#if any of this was insensitive I’ll rewrite it immediately

[chocotonez]

stray kids with a dyslexic s/o

a/n: praying my research was enough for this, please let me know if any of these descriptions are harmful/rude/inaccurate :,)

warnings/genre: reader can be insecure about capabilities, fluff w angst if you squint, g/n reader, hopefully somewhat accurate portrayals of dyslexia, but please let me know if any of these are disrespectful in any way <3

chan

-most accommodating towards your dyslexia, but like not in a patronizing way

-it’s just because most of what can be helpful is just second nature to him, like breaking down information into smaller pieces or writing large, reading things out loud like a dad at a grocery store, etc etc

-if you’re speech habits are affected by your dyslexia, he’ll always help you talk through your thoughts

-and if u ever feel insecure he’ll always reassure you and help you through it!! proofreading ur essays/emails, promising you’re never a bother or stupid, and he will literally never make fun of you for misreading/misspelling/missaying something

-it’s not really a massive deal to him, it just comes w the territory yknow?? he loves you for who you are, so he doesn’t really care to make it a major thing!!

-rather than seeing u as a dyslexic person, he just sees you as a person who has dyslexia ?? I hope that makes sense,, he just constantly reminds you on your strengths and what truly defines your capabilities

-but sometimes he does giggle a little if you make your phone font really large, but ONLY because it looks silly he swears <333

lee know

-I think at first he might struggle with it, especially if you two live together or are around each other a lot

-gets over it pretty quickly though, but I think he can be a little insensitive to the more emotional side of dyslexia?? like, he’ll forget you can feel insecure at times or you might have difficulties expressing something, so he’ll just be like “what”

-not in a cold way, just he sometimes forgets how to react

-doesn’t coddle you that much, if you need help he trusts you’ll seek him out of your own volition because the last thing he wants to do is make you feel incapable of being independent

-I think sends voice memos over texting already anyways, just finds it more convenient, but if you have auditory/processing issues he’ll literally transcribe his voice message to u

-it’s just about communication between you two, he doesn’t want to assume you need to be accommodated and it can make him seem kinda cold/avoidant about your dyslexia, esp if ur more sensitive??

-just reach out to him or he like “hey can you…” and he’ll immediately help you out in any way he can

changbin

-he doesn’t want to make you feel like you can’t be independent, but he’s very observant and attentive if you ever struggle/need something (he’s definitely mistaken you zoning out as being unable to process something a few too many times, but he’s trying)

-he uses google a lot for resources so sometimes he can be a little bit uninformed such as the time he asked if there’s “dyslexia glasses” he can get for you

-apologizes x100 if he ever asks you a disrespectful question, it’s not that he does it on purpose, but sometimes he’s just very curious but also very misinformed LMAO

-more emotionally accommodating, always encourages you and makes you feel better if any of your colleagues/peers look down on you

-puts a lot of effort in seeing your perspective and understanding your feelings, he thinks the way you feel because of your dyslexia is a lot more important than you being able to read a grocery list

-but if you tell him otherwise, he won’t hesitate to go and research into being more physically accommodating!! he never wants you to feel badly, especially if it’s from him doting on you just a touch too much

hyunjin

-very neutral on it?? not because he doesn’t care but more because he thinks it’s a bit strange to coddle you and baby you over dyslexia

-finds it uncomfortable when people give backhanded comments, even if unintentional, so he doesn’t want to patronize you or make you feel that way either

-but he’ll definitely look into helping a partner with dyslexia, or writing out a schedule for you in his neatest handwriting to help you organize your day (he makes the words pretty colors), or even just how to comfort you if your dyslexia ever gets in the way of anything

-would never tease you though unless he knew with 100% confidence you’d be okay with it, wouldn’t want even a sliver of insecurity to be caused by him

-similarly to changbin, he won’t go out of his way unless he notices you struggling, but this applies emotionally as well

-sometimes he can just know if you’re getting frustrated or struggling, so he’ll walk over and look at what you’re trying to write or read and help the best he can while reassuring you on your abilities :>

-it’s v nice especially if one of your symptoms is struggling with expression of feelings, as somehow he always just knows <3 but if he ever gets it wrong or makes you feel bad, he made you pinky promise to tell him so he can be a better boyfriend for u!!

han

-he probably accidentally patronized you a lot early on, because he didn’t really know how else to help you

-it was a bit overbearing, so once you told him that “yes I can read my texts on my own” he tones it down x90000, because ur a grown adult who just has dyslexia

-will always go out of his way to ask you if you ever need help with anything though, he doesn’t want to make you wait to reach out, or wait for him to notice

-also he because he might fail to notice if you’re having problems, especially in public or maybe at dinner with friends when ur fighting with a menu

-so he doesn’t want you to suffer in silence!! so he tries his best to help you in a respectful manner, and does a lot of research and reading into dyslexia

-likes to show off fun facts he learned, like naming off 12 recognized categories of dyslexia and ur just like ???

-“very cool babe!” -you after he somehow remembered an entire neurohealth article but didn’t notice you struggling with the grocery list he wrote out

felix

-he’s so patient and loving with you, and very empathetic

-he’s somehow a really good balance of knowing how to treat you or help you, or when you just need some time to think things through

-always reminds you of your intellectual capabilities or strengths, especially if he notices you getting nervous in situations where dyslexia might get in the way

-holds your hand but very loosely, like the others he really doesn’t want you to feel babied or a lack of independence

-but he’s so understanding if you sorta need that reassurance and accommodations, and he’s so incredibly patient and understanding about it as well

-but he’s still felix so if you’re 100% comfortable with him poking a bit of fun at you, just know he’ll recite that one Bella Thorn anti-bullying dyslexia ad LMAO

seungmin

-looks a lot into it to know what to do, but doesn’t go out of his way to make accommodations/alter lifestyle choices for you unless needed

-true neutral

-ur his s/o and you have dyslexia, cool, it doesn’t bother him unless it bothers you

-he can be kinda mean when it comes to your feelings though, might make a joke that’s a bit too far, but just let him know

-and if you struggle with expressing yourself, let him know and he’ll shut down any behaviors that might make you feel insecure

-sends you reminders to help you organize your schedule, makes sure to speak clearly and never gets annoyed if you need him to repeat/rewrite/read something out for you

-but other than that, it’s just another aspect to your relationship. he’ll never see it as a downside, and he loves you always <3 if you tell him he’s not doing enough, he’ll change, if you complain about a colleague clowning on you, he’ll go hire a hitman

jeongin

-“lol bella thorn”

-if you’re comfortable with it, he has a very playful approach to your dyslexia, making light jokes while you do the same

-if he asks you to wash the dishes or like go grab something, you’ll always respond with “is it because I have dyslexia 😞”

-honestly he does sometimes go a bit far with helping you out, exaggerating his writing to a point it seems ridiculous or speaking slowly like you’re a baby

-he’ll take it so seriously though if you ever express your discomfort with his actions, and he’ll always remember how you feel about certain things or if you struggled with anything in particular

-his search history,,,is a bit funny. ur not really sure how helpful a wikihow article from 2013 will be in regards to “reading to your dyslexic lover in dim lighting”, but you’re very impressed with not only the length of the article but also how jeongin practically has one for almost every single situation in which dyslexia might hinder you

-will still occasionally clown you for writing “if life gives you melons” one time though

[parrrty-animal]

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Freddy Fazbear

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Nightmare Freddy

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Nightmare Balloon Boy [Platonic Only]

Nightmarionne

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Bonnie

Chica

Foxy

Toy Freddy

Toy Bonnie

Toy Chica

Mangle

Balloon Boy [Platonic Only]

Springtrap

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Ballora

Funtime Freddy

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Phone Guy

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[jalebi-weds-bluetooth]

10 Times Arnav Singh Raizada Crossed The Line (Part 2)

Read Part 1

This is the continuation of my analysis of my favorite television hero - Arnav Singh Raizada. A man who has as much as qualities as flaws. And my endless inspiration to writing a thousand words! 

Recap: Arnav Singh Raizada is our perfect, tortured Mills & Boons hero. Sometimes it’s unfortunate when recent shows have aped his behavior and not the layered characterization that he had. However, sometimes (according to my own opinion) I felt that his character might have crossed the line. It’s moments where no explanations justify his behavior.

- Tearing the dori. - Arnav Singh Raizada does not apologize. - Blasting at Khushi for pranking, PRANKING him. - Telling Khushi her anklet, their almost kiss & she, does not matter. - Arnav Hypocrite Raizada - forcing an engaged Khushi to confess her feelings when he’s unable to do so.

Reminding Khushi of her broken engagement cause he can’t handle jealousy.

Manipulating & frightening Khushi with Akash & Payal’s divorce papers.

Telling Khushi he ‘faked’ his sickness to get rid of the ‘Swami’ tag.

Refusing to believe Khushi’s version of events.

Becoming Khushi’s landlord and blackmailing her (emotionally and financially) to get her to come back home.

Bonus

Telling Khushi that she does not have the brains, courage nor talent to face the real world.  

#6 “Tumhara rishta? Hua tha... yaad hai na?”. (S5, E10)

“Your relationship? It happened... do you even remember that?” - A foot in mouth Arnav Singh Raizada.

First Reaction: How to lose a woman in ten seconds ft. Arnav Singh Raizada. Are you bloody serious? THIS… out of all the valid things you could have yelled at her for, HER BROKEN ENGAGEMENT is what you taunt her with?

What’s wrong with it: 

Arnav arranges a party for Akash & Payal according to his own tastes. He never takes into account that his new sister in law might get intimidated in the new setting. This is a power move for Arnav and really not a party for Akash & Payal because nothing in the party is for them. From whatever we know about Akash, he is a quiet guy who enjoys little things in life - not necessarily wine and a cultural show. Payal feels left out. Akash’s discomfort is visible at the party as he keeps asking Payal if she’s comfortable. 

Arnav literally has this party for himself, and he can’t party. In general, Arnav acts like an entitled dick for these two episodes. In the previous episode he makes it clear that he’s aware how Khushi might feel left out and does not invite her to the party for her own sister. He’s insensitive, callous and mocking (and surprised as to why NK and Khushi mix well?).

And I LOVE that Khushi and NK chose to hang out with each other because Arnav is almost pushing her away to another man by his ‘generous acts’. Like if these two were not soulmates and born for each other, I was a minute away from being “Yeah Khushi, I think you should date the other guy who is more sensitive to you even though he’s lived all his life in another country and knows you for like 48 hours.”

Quick note: I’m not all that aversive to NK & Khushi being a pair. Now wait a second, it might be like oh Khushi really pushes their families to think that she and NK go well together. Well… she and NK have an instant connect like no other - even in the future NK is almost always able to tell when Khushi is disturbed or when something happens that demeans Khushi’s worth in the house. 

Also, imagine this, in the shoes of Akash - if I am Khushi’s friend and I’ve seen her go through a terrible engagement, incessant insults from my older cousin, and then I see her connect with my younger cousin who actually makes Khushi smile and laugh all the time…

I don’t think it's a mystery that I’ll ship her with a man who can make her smile. And no wonder why the Sangeet performance stuns everyone. Anjali & Akash more than anyone else (because I think they were the only ones who thought there was something else between Arnav & Khushi and they put that thought in the backburner until they see that shit… whatever it was has simmered all along).  

Track Rewrite: 

I’m just realising that I don’t have many track rewrite ideas for most of the foot-in-mouth situations of ASR. The dialogue that Khushi, here, says is amazing. She literally replies to him, word for word, and makes him see his own hypocrisy and also highlights that he’s furious about something else - that he does not want to accept, as usual. 

She states, in between lines, that she has given up reading his mind and trying to be gentle to him when he, frankly, doesn’t deserve that treatment. If anything, their sangeet rivalry and the win-lose situation just gets to my nerves at one point.

Head-canon: 

NK openly flirts with Khushi more on seeing how interested Nannav is with Khushi. NK never regards Khushi as his sister-in-law, for him Khushi always remains as his best friend and as the woman he understands best which he not-so-lightly rubs against Nannav’s face every now and then. He truly loves Khushi, but as a friend. It’s a pure, true friendship between Khushi and NK.

Public Service Announcement: 

Before planning a party please make sure you have a survey on what the people actually want in the party, especially if it's hosted for them. A party is not a party if you’re the only one enjoying it.

#7 “It is so sad Khushi, ki Akash ka phone mere paas hai.” (S6, E19-21)

“It is so Khushi, that I have Akash’s phone with me.” Arnav, holding Akash’s phone while Khushi frantically dials Akash to ask if he knowingly signed the divorce papers, and make him aware of the same. Arnav makes Khushi think it’s Akash’s divorce papers - Akash actually signed some random office papers. 

First Reaction: I know the context of everything but that was a low blow. I KNOW ARNAV DOESN’T KNOW HIS KHUSHI BABY IS INNOCENT but somehow this part is tough to digest.

What’s wrong with it: 

Abuse of power - as simple as that. Of course we’re all immediately swayed to Khushi’s feelings because we know she’s an innocent bub. But to Arnav she’s the woman who’s breaking his sister’s house so he probably feels justified in torturing her with the idea of breaking her sister’s house. I get it, it’s a tit for tat situation. 

But if we’re thinking deeply, this is not just an average argument that they always have - Khushi literally is going through a mental breakdown to stop Payal. This could have easily gone out of hand. Just saying.

Track Rewrite: 

A necessary evil to establish the tighthold Arnav has on Khushi regarding the marriage. I don’t appreciate the immediate comedy, romance or smugness that follows. The scenes are great - individually. But BUT BUT I feel this event would trigger a more serious reaction from Khushi because she has always been very serious when it’s about her sister.

If I had to rewrite this, everything happens the way it is but instead of the childish thing of her jumping into the pool (I know she’s childish but we have infinite opportunities in the future to prove that), she would grow very serious and threaten Arnav to never, ever touch her sister’s marriage. 

I would assume she would become very serious for a few days, and then resume to her usual antics. Arnav’s anger is well justified - on one hand Khushi has the galls to threaten him about her sister’s marriage when she’s breaking his, on the other hand he also would never do any damage to Akash’s marriage.

Head-canon: 

Bua ji, for as much as she’s crossed with Khushi, actually had a wedding trousseau for Khushi (she starts wearing all the anarkalis and salwar kameez post this trip to Gupta House). There’s actually a very emotional moment between Khushi and Bua ji where Bua ji tells her she bought new clothes for Khushi when they were buying things for Payal. 

So yeah, just an emotional, almost mother-daughter bond between Khushi and Bua ji where the latter expresses her disappointment in the way Khushi married but also loves her beyond everything. 

Here Bua ji says that she’s upset with Khushi because she’s their own, if not she won’t have even bothered. Also, Garima and Bua ji have a talk in between where they miss Khushi immensely and find it difficult to live in a house without the two daughters. 

Garima and Bua ji have a mature talk, as adults, wondering if what Khushi did was a return to what they did to Khushi and then they receive Anjali’s call to attend Holi.

Public Service Announcement: 

Don’t manipulate! Also, always check with your spouse for any assumptions you might have against them :) Communication is key. For more enquiries about relationship troubles regarding assumed infidelity or hiding secrets - contact Dr. Jalebi S, your own sweet relationship expert. But yes, don’t hide stuff from your partner if it involves their family and DON’T MANIPULATE AND PLAY MIND GAMES!

#8 “Kitna bhi jaan lo, kabhi kabhi kisi ko pehchaan na bohot mushkil ho jaata hai. Kal raat mujhe kuch bhi nahi hua tha. Main bilkul theek tha.” (S6, E46) 

“Irrespective of how much you know someone, sometimes it can get very difficult to (truly) recognize someone. Last night, nothing happened to me. I was absolutely fine.” Arnav Irony Singh Raizada. Doesn’t the first line apply to himself too? He thinks he knows her, but he does NOT. 

First Reaction: YOU SON OF A BACHELOR! YOU WERE NOT NOT SICK! 

What’s wrong with it: 

I don’t like how Arnav’ perennially pissed with Khushi the minute he got up. Pfft, Khushi’s beautiful and seeing her wonderful face in the morning was a great moment for a Rabba Ve moment because of the sweet Rabba Ve they had the night before! I love Arnav’s discomfort in knowing how Khushi took care of him while he was asleep, while no one was there to watch. Because for him, it was crossing borders on what their marriage was beginning to seem.

And then the whole I was not sick, bleh, and then Anjali (I love her, wonderful woman) but for the life of me I couldn’t understand what in the world she was trying to explain. Because really, no way had Arnav lied to Khushi to make her feel better/less guilty.

Rather he was belittling and mocking her efforts.

There’s one thing about hiding intentions, there’s another about forcing and painting someone’s actions in a romantic light - that’s not right.

Arnav is a master at hiding his intentions. Whenever he yells at Khushi where she’s gone - it means he’s worried. When he tells Khushi he doesn’t need her help - well he actually needs it. When he’s ignoring her - he wants her to stop ignoring him, etc.

So we know Arnav when he hides intentions. Hence I felt the Anjali-Arnav scene was forcing the viewers to sympathize with Arnav and be like heh, he did that to make Khushi feel less guilty. I anyways sympathize with Arnav given the battle he’s facing internally... so this one scene felt odd.

Quick note: I have a love-hate relationship with Khushi eating all the food scenes and embarrassing him in his office with wifey behavior. Also, Arnav has a very telling body language when he lies - he speaks very fast, and does not meet her eyes and in many cases, physically turns away from her while speaking.

Track Rewrite: 

Just… let’s put the wonderful Anjali/Arnav moment somewhere else in the story where Anjali notices Arnav actually lying to make Khushi feel better. Cause Anjali does hit the nail in stating that her brother never reveals what he feels.  

Also, I love the entire Gupta House adventure that they have but there’s a part of me that wished it happened at another time.

Like if it happened at the time it did, then oh God please change what triggers the marriage reveal.

Otherwise the entire thing can happen when Arnav decides to stay in Gupta house cause Khushi won’t be coming to Raizada house (post his great “You’re the biggest mistake of my life Khushi”). In a way it would be hilarious that Arnav is trying to win Khushi back but also is facing extreme discomfort at the lack of luxury he’s become used to - classic ASR. 

And probably Khushi suffocates him with a recall to the ‘Swami’ track and makes his life a living hell in her house. Made for each other that they are.  

Head-canon: 

Arnav and Khushi get used to and look forward to having meals together. Arnav, rarely, eats alone ever again. It’s a development Nani and Anjali are very happy to see.

Public Service Announcement: 

Don’t eat all food if you have a diabetic partner. Also, don’t try to understand everything your sibling does - try questioning them instead of justifying. Try drinking coffee instead of tea if you’ve been awake all night <3

#9 “Tumhe kya lagta hai, agar tum uss raat mujhe bata deti toh kya main aankhein band karke tumpe vishwaas kar leta?” (S7, E15-17)

“What do you think, if you told me your truth that night then I would’ve believed you without a doubt?” Arnav, to Khushi, after she’s told her side of the misunderstanding. And with that, every fan’s highest hopes dashed and worst dreams came true.  

First Reaction: NO ARNAV DON’T… NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO 

What’s wrong with it: 

He refuses to believe her. He has a choice, he has heard both sides of the story. And he refuses to believe it. But my biggest problem - Khushi pretends she has no idea what moment he’s referring to?

Girl, you’ve been forcefully hugged by Shyam only once in your life and until and unless you’re amnesiac you would remember that traumatic moment. I am just so upset that Khushi does nothing nor says anything concrete when he says he doesn’t believe her. She doesn’t say Shyam molested her.

She puts it on Arnav. That what he knows isn’t true. That he doesn’t deserve the truth, which is a good argument but state more! Then she goes silent *argh*

Her argument starts strong, but ends up terribly. She just ends up saying all the things that don’t matter!

Track Rewrite: 

Khushi should have told why she went to the terrace that night. That she thought it was he who asked her to come up. That Shyam harassed her. That Shyam has continuously harassed her. That Arnav’s not the only one who threatened the safety of Payal’s marriage - Shyam threatened it too.

No matter what Khushi did, somehow Payal’s marriage always ends up on the line. If she tells, Payal’s marriage is threatened by Shyam and because she didn’t, Payal’s marriage was threatened by Arnav.

ALSO KHUSHI APOLOGISES FOR HIDING THE TRUTH!

It should’ve been a clash of their ideologies, their personalities, her heartbreak over the fact that he doesn’t know she loves him, his disbelief that the truth is too good to be true (and essentially confusion because if Khushi loved him all along then it meant that he misunderstood her all along and he’s not great at seeing his own mistakes). She would’ve been too angry to make amends - not until she realizes he’s leaving for London and his mistake doesn’t matter.

Here’s a fic that I wrote that covers this. 

Head-canon: 

Akash and Payal are the only ones who later get to know the entire thing as this topic affected both the marriages deeply. Nani also knows, but of course not the part that he forced her to marry for six months by threatening Payal’s marriage.

Public Service Announcement: 

Lies rarely do good. And be careful to analyze any traumatic event from all angles! What’s visible is not what happens and what happens is not visible!

#10 “Khushi, tum kiraya kamkarwana chahti ho? Toh tumhe mere saath ghar aana parega.” “Nahi.” “Okay, mere paas koi choice nahi hai. Mujhe tumhara ghar girwana parega.” (S8, E21-22) 

“Khushi you want to reduce your rent? Then you to need to come home with me.” “No.” “Okay, then I have no other choice. I will have to tear down your house.” - Arnav to Khushi. The most inappropriate sentence anyone can tell to another. Given that they are husband and wife, it’s even worse. 

Quick note on the photos: Khushi Kumari Gupta, not believing the man she married in all three scenes. Arnav Singh Raizada, lying in all three scenes. 

First Reaction: 

Everybody… yeah… don’t really rock your body… yeah… Stupid. Singh. Raizada’s. Back!

Oh my God stupid Raizada is back again! Brothers sisters everybody’s sayin’…. Not really gonna bring Khushi back nor gonna show anyone anything how… *continues butchering Backstreet’s Back* I gotta question for you (yes I do ASR so) you better answer now..

Are you original? Yeah

Are you the only one? For Khushi, yeah

Are you sexual? Very, but that’s not helping… Noooo

Are you everything Khushi needs - Yes but you need to shut up.

Are you - SHUT UP AND SAY SORRY

AND MEAN IT IF YOU’RE SAYING SORRY - IN FORTY EIGHT HOURS YOU SAID SHE’S THE BIGGEST MISTAKE OF HER LIFE, APOLOGISED AND FOLLOWED IT UP BY THREATENING PAYAL’S MARRIAGE, MADE HER WORK FOR YOU AND BOUGHT THE HOUSE SO YOU COULD HIKE THE HOUSE FEES AND THEN LITERALLY TOLD HER YOU CAN DRAG HER OUT OF THE HOUSE… and you think she’ll come back?

DUDE, what are you smoking?

What’s wrong with it: 

Boy… no. No. Ask NK, Nani, Payal or even Lakshmi (talk with the people who understand Khushi!) on how to appease Khushi. A part of me was really upset with this track cause although I understand that Arnav is never really gonna do a full blown redemption and they need to stay true to his character, I didn’t see how ANY of his actions would get Khushi back…

It’s not wrong that he was upset at Khushi for visiting Anjali - even I was! Like seriously, Khushi, despite her best intentions, really does make the biggest mistakes! However, implying that Khushi’s existence is the reason why Shyam cheated Anjali was shit. On top of that he calls his marriage a contract, blackmails her about Payal, is unable to wish her a happy birthday, becomes her landlord and stops all utilities (hence now blackmailing her using her family) to get her back?

I don’t see the sense. I try really hard and I’m team Arnav but for me him becoming her landlord was just flexing his money and power. It was a low blow, and it’s really not funny how he keeps threatening the peace of her family but get’s pissed off when Khushi, unintentionally, disturbs his family.

It does not matter that Arnav would essentially not carry on with his threat, to Khushi he would and that’s what matters (cuts off electricity and water to prove his point and it does cause inconvenience her family). It’s just a very unhealthy atmosphere over here. The little moments are great, independently, but apart from that I just found this to be a very troubling scene.

Track Rewrite: 

Oh I have a lot, LOT of theories for this one:

- Khushi first thinks Arnav has bought the house from her landlord so as to stop the harassment and Arnav is guilty AF because he didn’t expect that. Bua ji enters right when Arnav talks about the truth of the marriage. She hears everything, and asks Arnav to leave her house, forever. She goes all ‘Haye Re Nandkishore’ on him. DRAMA. #BuajiRoxx

- Landlord shit doesn’t happen. Khushi leaves the house, Arnav decides to stay at her house since she isn’t going back to Shantivan with the promise to reminisce all the sweetest moments she shared. Khushi kills him with the ‘Swami’ shit, again, and Arnav ends up being irritated due to lack of adjustment but also does everything possible to get Khushi back. They have their Rabba Ves and then he brings her back and gives her the sweet gifts.

- She returns home (just like in canon) but distances herself from all the Raizadas (and does not jump into making Raksha Bandhan celebration - ugh, women are not always obligated to keep their sasuraal happy)! For a few days she becomes just like Arnav - unemotional, unaffected, orderly and unexpressive. Akash, having repaired his relationship with Payal and hence having gained a deeper insight, helps Arnav overcome his marriage issues.

Head-canon: 

Khushi and Arnav have a conversation where she asks him when, where and why did he transfer the house’s papers to her name. It’s an important and tender moment. Arnav gradually comes to know Khushi married him more because it was he who proposed marriage. Khushi gradually comes to know that Arnav, never, would threaten Akash-Payal’s marriage. 

Did she accidentally come across the ‘office’ papers that Akash had signed? Did Arnav actually play a role in smoothening Akash-Payal’s relationship post the Shyam reveal - anything on those lines.  

Public Service Announcement: 

IF YOUR PARTNER ISN’T COMING BACK HOME AND YOU THINK BLACKMAIL IS A SOLUTION THEN MESSAGE DR. JALEBI/S IMMEDIATELY. YOU NEED HELP. At this point, irrespective of star crossed pyaar, I’d 9/10 recommend separation, break, counseling.

Bonus

"No you can’t. Kyunki asal zindagi main guzara karne ke liye paise chahiye hote hai. Aur paise kamane ke liye akal chahiye hoti hai. Himmat aur confidence chahiye hote hai puri duniya ka saamna karne ke liye. Apne sapne pure karne ke liye. Aur tumhe inn sab main se kuch bhi nahi hai.” (S11, E2)

“No you can’t [face the world on your own]. Because to face the real world you need need. And to earn money you need intelligence. You need bravery and confidence to face the whole whole. To fulfill your dreams. And you have none of these.” Arnav, to Khushi. The moment when Arnav forgot that Khushi was the sole breadwinner of the Gupta’s and Khushi forgot that Arnav is a multimillionaire.

First Reaction: WHAT ARE THE WRITERS DOING? WHAT IS THE CHANNEL DOING? WHAT IS ARNAV DOING? THIS LEADS TO A FASHION SHOW INSTEAD OF AN ACTUAL CHAT - WHAT IS KHUHSI DOING? WHAT AM I DOING??!! Should I stop watching the show?

What’s wrong with it: 

I really liked Arnav and Khushi’s difference of opinion when it came to raising Aarav - not where she is being stupid and asking to burst crackers (she is retracting on so many of her characteristics right now I can’t keep a track). I did not like the second half of the argument because it really took the characters several notches down on their growth/development. 

I really liked Khushi stating to Arnav that - hey, buying happiness with money can work with adults but terribly spoil children. But then what followed, without a hint of apology, into an embarrassing and terrible Fashion Pageant that completely missed the point of this argument!

Neither parent thinks it’s important to sit and have a calm chat with Aarav. Arnav is a ‘yes’ man around him. Khushi is there to heap the values instilled on her. Is anyone trying to make Aarav understand, no? And Arnav’s evident lack of respect for Khushi will translate to Aarav. 

They’re both bad at parenting and this could have been a really nice track that they could have wrapped up in a few episodes but no.

Aarav never learns. Arnav gives a half assed dialogue about ‘oh I know Khushi you’re talented’ and Khushi spends the next 10 days behaving like an 8 year old, not chatting up with Aarav about behavior issues, and thinks winning a Fashion Pageant is being courageous, talented, determined and independent.

*throws head on wall*

Track Rewrite: 

Oh I HAVE TONS but I’ll explain my favorite one. First of all, I’ll let that argument be because it is natural that this is where Arnav and Khushi might conflict. But instead of Khushi’s childish sulking that puts Arnav into a ‘oh let’s make her jealous, call her to office, appease her by some shitty ASR plan and probably apologise somewhere’ and Khushi going all ‘haww, he called me brainless, now I’ll prove so by stupidly acting like a kid in his coat’-

Arnav and Khushi stand still when they realise he has crossed a line and he storms off, leaving a very quiet Khushi alone. They both walk on eggshells, neither’s ego letting the argument down. It seriously hampers their relationship. They just don’t speak and anything small leads to a big argument. 

Khushi spends an enormous amount of time in her catering service in an attempt to prove herself, becoming a bit crazy behind earning money which makes her off character. Arnav throws himself in office, and is almost happy when he realizes Khushi’s catering service does not earn even half of his monthly profit, annually. A competitive streak drives a wedge between them. This goes on - that troubles the entire family, and stops until Aarav misbehaves with Anjali.

This breaks the ice wall between Arnav and Khushi, draws them out of their workaholic spheres. Bua ji, Payal, NK reprimand Khushi for being absent in raising Aarav, her obsession to make Aarav religious and traditional without making him understand the reason of the values and above all, competitive with her husband that she grandly declared she can’t live without. Mami, Nani, Akash reprimand Arnav for pretty much the same.

When Arnav and Khushi talk to Anjali, she again reprimands the both of them in terms of parenting, marriage and the coexistence of both. Arnav cannot buy upbringing, manners, ethics, respect and character through money. Khushi cannot instill goodness, kindness, generosity and honesty by piling beliefs of the Lord. If that was the case then her husband - who would get all the money he needed from Arnav, and believed in all the Gods - would be a good man.

Arnav and Khushi talk to their son, together, to figure out his actual problem of fitting in. Aarav is surprised to learn both his parents were orphans. He truly bonds with them after getting through his adjustment fears and issues. In teaching Aarav, Arnav and Khushi realise what truly matters - their love. And that they had forgotten how similar they were. 

With Aarav they have met another person who is just like them - alone, afraid, orphaned and lonely who’s standing at the same point in life where he either turns himself into a man with absolute belief or none at all. And with parents who have faced the extremes of fates, Aarav might just have the perfect upbringing.

Hence, Arnav and Khushi patch up with an emotional, tear jerking hug. They end up recounting each other’s stories and realize how far they’ve come along. They never had a name for their love and after all the hatred, denial, lust, acceptance, confession, purity, marriage and parenthood - no one name’s going to fit either.

Head-canon: 

Aarav, although behaviorally like his father, grows up to be a complete Mumma’s boy. If anyone thought Arnav is super protective about Khushi, well Aarav is ten times more protective about his mother. Also, internally Aarav is a big fan of Hindi cinema, loves sweets and has the most outrageous dance moves. But he’s also an introvert so he would kill anyone who pointed out on those.

Public Service Announcement: 

Adopt children when you are ready. Having a child can take toll on a marriage so COMMUNICATE - COMMUNICATE WITH YOUR SPOUSE, YOUR CHILD AND YOUR SUPPORT SYSTEM!

Phew, this is the end of this post and I sincerely hope you liked it! Feel free to send your thoughts through asks/notes/etc. 

[ineverhaveanynormalfans]

Undisclosed - Chapter 2

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Warnings: Canon divergent, canon rewrite, hints of consentual non-monogomy, minor mentions of sexually explicit content.

Pairing/s: Emily Prentiss x Dr Olivia Prentiss (OFC), Spencer Reid x Olivia Prentiss x Emily Prentiss

Authors Note:

Spencers POV from the restaurant and a continuation of the dinner.

Word count: 1589

AO3

The woman following Emily back into the restaurant captured Spencer’s attention immediately. Part of it was the obvious bond between the two, Spencer could see the elevated heart rate at Emily’s throat and the wide pupils and broad smile evident on the new woman’s face showed a deep level of affection possibly love. She was shorter than Emily’s 5”8 even with the high wedge boots she was wearing, he estimated her to stand around 5”3 in bare feet. Wavy brown hair fell to her shoulders and her eyes were the brightest green he had ever seen on an actual human being. Her figure was closer to Penelope’s than Emily or JJs slim physiques but her style of dress wasn’t anything near as exuberant as the tech genius. She was wearing close-fitting jeans and a light grey sweater with a faded logo and the bag she was carrying looked to be a carry on for travelling. He had just noticed the matching rings they were both wearing when those unique green eyes met his and her smile shone brighter. He beamed at Emily’s wife and waved in his signature awkward style which seemed to delight her if the sweet peal of laughter was any indication. JJ reached over and squeezed his arm as she got up to go and hug the new arrival and Spencer followed, holding back a little as the team crowded in to give their congratulations and welcomes.

Between the rush of questions from Penelope and Rossi’s toast, he didn’t manage more than a verbal congratulations and a wave over heads. Emily had winked at him, she knew he would welcome Olivia when they could get a quiet minute so he sat back down beside JJ and the conversations began again. He had just cut short an explanation of the benefits of spices in a healthy diet at a look from JJ when people started switching seats to talk to others and Olivia dropped into the seat beside him. ‘Hi,’ she beamed, mirroring his wave from earlier instead of reaching to shake his hand. Emily must have told her about his aversion to bodily contact with strangers and his hand seemed to take on a life of its own, mirroring her movement. She spoke with a softly lilting accent, not English, maybe Scottish or Irish. It took him a moment to realise she had asked him a question, he had been lulled in by her voice. ‘I’m sorry I got distracted trying to place your accent.’ He could feel his cheeks flaming but Olivia laughed kindly and put him at ease, an unusual feeling for him with someone so new.

‘Go on then Dr, what’s your guess?’ Spencer was battling against being swept away in her warm smile, and focused on the few linguistic tells he had heard so far. ‘English is your first language and the tempo suggests northern British isles, although Southern Ireland could be a distinct possibility also. You’ve spent time in London, your natural accent is masked slightly and you seem to be conscious of slowing down your natural speech rhythms.’ She was nodding along, not giving him much feedback and he became aware that the rest of the table was watching them. His eyes flickered to Emily who was sitting back in a chair opposite them, a glass of wine in hand, watching their interaction with interest.

‘I think Ireland for sure, but I can’t tell what part, moved around a lot maybe?’ Tara guessed from beside Emily and that set everyone else off. Ireland was the consensus, and Olivia was giving nothing away, merely smiling and nodding interestedly as the profilers worked. Eventually, all eyes returned to Spencer who had yet to give a final answer. Emily was watching her wife and grinning widely, clearly loving the banter. ‘She’s not gonna give you any more hints Spence, I’ve played poker with her, she won’t break.’ Olivias cheeks flushed and Emily’s followed, there was a story there but Spencer would pursue that another night. ‘Northern Ireland, possibly near the border with the Republic but along the west instead of the south.’ Her eyes widened with surprise and she laughed vibrantly. ‘Bravo Dr Reid, that’s the best guess anyone’s ever given. I’m from a wee village between Derry and Donegal.’ Her true lilt shone through now and there was a chorus of ahhh and now I hear it's from around the group.

Conversations struck up again and a fresh round of drinks was ordered before Spencer spoke, softly enough to reach only Olivia's ears. ‘Do I get a prize for guessing correctly?’ His heart thumped so violently in his chest he was sure she must hear it as he did his best to sit back casually and await her response. To any onlooker, this move could seem bold, insensitive even and more definitely inappropriate but Spencer hadn’t only been placing Olivia's accent while he studied her over dinner. The dynamic between her and Emily was rooted in love, yes but it was more complex too. The way they moved, in constant awareness of the other, spoke to a different kind of relationship and Spencer was pretty sure he knew it’s nature. Before Emily had faked her death to chase down Ian Doyle they had spent a few evenings and weekends together, something Spencer was sure nobody in the BAU, not even Jennifer, knew about. Their relationship, while strengthened by friendship, was purely sexual and Emily had taught him a great deal about alternative sexualities and kinks. On her visits back here there had been a few conversations after many drinks in which Emily had admitted to having a similar dynamic with a new partner, one she was convinced he would click with too. He’d been intrigued ever since and had not missed the slight inflexions of Emily’s words when she spoke to him over the last few days.

If he wasn’t mistaken, and he rarely was, Olivias attentions on him when they walked in were as appraising as he had been. The friendly challenge to guess her birthplace had practically confirmed it, she kept his eye contact for longer than a true submissive but she did always break it first and looked to Emily for her cues. Now, with play firmly in her hands, he watched her as she carefully chose her next move. ‘That’s not for me to decide Dr Reid.’ Her voice was little above a whisper but its impact was vast. Arousal flooded his body causing his cock to chub up in his boxers and he shifted slightly to cross his legs and his it. Across the table, Emily was smiling in a way that suggested she knew exactly what was going on between them. The game was most certainly on he thought and grinned to Olivia as he willed his blood flow to return to normal. It was at this rare moment of happiness and hope that Spencer felt his phone vibrate in his jacket. Extracting it and seeing the Vegas area code brought him crashing down faster than a cold shower. Grimacing apologetically he excused himself to Olivia and slid his thumb across the screen to attempt to deal with his mother’s latest downwards spiral.

By the time he had talked her down and ensured she was safe the rest of the BAU was exiting the restaurant. Hotch passed Spencer his satchel and they exchanged small nods and tight smiles, neither wishing to draw attention to Spencers problem. A series of goodbye hugs and promises to have brunch the next time they were Stateside floated in the cool night air and suddenly Olivia was standing in front of Spencer. His eyes had been downcast, looking at nothing in particular but her height put her squarely in his line of sight. Her face was perhaps the most lovely thing he thought he had ever seen and this broke his heart a little more but with her warm smile and sparkling green eyes focused just on him he pushed all of those thoughts aside. ‘It’s been lovely to meet you Olivia. You and Emily seem very happy together.’ The short brunette grinned and looked over her shoulder to where her wife was making fervent promises to Penelope that it wouldn’t be years before they were back.

‘She’ll do.’ Olivia said jokingly, eliciting a genuine laugh from him. ‘Your prize good doctor.’ She was holding out a business card which Spencer took, turning it over in his hands. The front contained only her name, an email and a work phone number. Noting the lack of job title Spence flipped it over and saw a mobile number handwritten across the back. He looked up at her, searching her face with curiosity. ‘Thank you? I’m not sure what you want me to do with this.’ She chuckled and stepped closer to him, placing a hand on his forearm and leaning up on her tiptoes to place a kiss to his cheek. Lingering there, she spoke so softly the drumming of his heart almost eclipsed it. ‘That’s your next guessing game. Gimme a call, you can gather clues. I’ll give you a virtual Whovian tour.’ She stepped back, giving him the briefest wink that stopped his heart entirely and gave Garcia a last hug before getting into the taxi with Emily and driving away. Pocketing the card and smiling to himself Spencer clambered into the next one with JJ, Hotch and Tara to head home, the tiniest spark of hope glimmering in his melancholy heart.

[blackasteriia]

13!

Super Duper Deep Character Questions

||First question is shown but the rest is under the cut because it’s a doozy||

13.

Thank you @lunsai for the fantastic header. 

Let’s talk about Nomura’s portrayal of Xion’s gender in canon! We are introduced to ‘Xion’ through the eyes of Roxas. He sees a silent, hooded figure who he feels an immediate connection to. Xion does not speak to him for almost two weeks. They run a mission or two together. Then she removes her hood and he sees a young girl. She uses she/ her pronouns. Although there are attempts to misgender her, Xion seems uncomfortable with attempts to enforce a different gender than ‘female’ on her. Then, we have a conversation where we hear Xemnas’ --and assumably Nomura’s-- explanation of Xion’s gender. He says:

“But then through Roxas, Sora himself began to shape ‘it’ into ‘her’ giving Xion a sense of identity.”

Xemnas doesn’t care about Xion’s gender. He cares that she’s trapping Sora’s memories and ensuring that the keyblade remains in his use. However, the explanation of Xion’s gender leans into Nomura’s opinion of her character. Xion is not real to him. She is a fake person. Sora’s impression of Kairi, nothing more, nothing less. Her sense of identity comes from Sora’s memories that she stole from him and Roxas. Sora wanted her to be Kairi, so he made ‘it’ into ‘her.’ I know that Nomura doesn’t believe Xion isn’t a real person because she died at the end of the game. When he removed Sora from her character, there was nothing left of her. He even showed that with all of Sora’s memories, she is just Sora after all. Now, here are some of my observations:

1. It is terrible writing to build a character’s arc on them developing their own identity and personhood, then rip it away at the end. Xion’s story arc literally proves Xemnas right by its ending. 

2. Xion’s ‘gender’ is subjective to Roxas’ experience of her. She is a girl only in the sense that Roxas wanted her to be one. As soon as she has enough of Sora’s memory, she visually becomes a ‘boy.’ Well, that’s kinda gross and objectifying isn’t it? It’s almost like Nomura wants all his protagonists to have their own pet Kairi-- 

3. Xion’s story is parallel --yeah, I’ll go with that word-- to the experience of being transgender. I have zero faith that Nomura intended that. Yet, we have a character that is assigned one gender at birth (although it is a non-gender, I guess?). Who identifies as a different gender. Who deals with misgendering and other attempts to force them into their assigned gender. Hell, it’s almost a good story. Saïx,the guy misgendering her, is treated with contempt. Well, it’s good right up until she’s murdered and the guy abusing her is proven right by de facto. It’s Nomura, though, can’t win it all.

Hey, you know who is a character that is a lot like Xion? 

Steven Universe. 

No, no, no, come back I’m not joking. Spoilers for season 5 of the show, though. 

Steven Universe is a character that identifies as a boy. He has his mother’s gem and many people who see him, see her instead of him. Because of this, Steven is constantly misgendered and referred to as ‘Rose,’ or ‘Pink Diamond.’ Steven is compared through-out the show to Rose and struggles to live-up to her immense legacy. However, he affirms that he is a boy and that he is Steven. He wants to save the Earth and fulfill his destiny is his own Steven-y way. Through-out the series, we see him grow and mature into a heroic lead in his own right. In Season 5 we are introduced to White Diamond. White Diamond plays a role that could be considered akin to Pink Diamond’s mother. White Diamond claims that Steven is just another ‘trick’ and ‘game’ of Pink Diamond. Pink Diamond is hiding behind Steven in order to shirk her duties. So that White can restore her family, her home, and the order of the gem society, Pink must return to her station. To White Diamond, the problem is Pink being convinced that she is a boy named Steven Universe. Pink is so deluded she is even, ‘deceiving herself.’

So, to prove her point, White Diamond removes his gemstone. Steven was born with this gemstone, he has never lived without it. We have been told that he is both human and gem. That Rose ‘gave-up her physical body’ to have him. It is not inaccurate to say that apart of him is literally his mother. This is the most critical question of Steven’s character, is he, after all, really just Pink Diamond hiding? White Diamond risked killing Steven to return Pink Diamond. The gemstone glows and out emerges-- Steven. Pink Diamond is gone and its time for everyone to accept it. Steven then embraces himself and reunites with his gem in a heartfelt scene. White Diamond is left to throw a temper tantrum, but eventually learns to appreciate Steven for who he is. 

Now, can you imagine if Rebecca Sugar decided that Pink Diamond popped out of the gemstone instead of Steven? What kind of message would that send? Steven was never Steven. He was only Pink Diamond pretending to be Steven. He was never ‘him,’ only she pretending to be him. It would also work against Steven’s character arc. You know, his arc to establish himself as an independent and unique person, worthy of love, outside of his relationship to Rose? Yeah, that arc. So, now look at Xion’s character arc. Xion’s arc where her independence and identity were stomped on, thrown into the trash, then outright erased. Xion’s arc where she was constantly told ‘you don’t deserve to exist’ even though all she ever wanted was a life of peace with her friends. Xion’s arc which ended in her murder and her abusers absolved, with no consequences for their crimes against her. Xion’s arc where everyone who insulted, degraded, and oppressed her, was proven right. Now, look at Steven’s character arc. You tell me who did it better. 

Steven’s story, like Xion’s, has echos of the experience of being transgender. (Quick disclaimer: I am cis and I will never be able to represent the experience of someone who is transgender as well as someone who actually has that identity. I will do my best though and please let me know if I misrepresent something.) He is misgendered and dead named by characters who struggle to accept his (or really, Rose’s) change in identity. Neither Xion nor Steven’s characters are one-for-one and I don’t think they have to be? His character arc works to affirm the lesson of self-love and acceptance of identity that the show hammers on in every episode. I have no idea how intentional Steven’s story is. I do know that Rebecca Sugar is a fantastic writer, with a deep understanding of her characters, and who understands queer identity. Any other outcome than Steven emerging from that gem would cause more harm to young, LGBT+ viewers than good. Xion dying at the end of 358/2 Days is an insensitive, cruel, and needless message of the ‘villain wins, your abuser is right’ directed right to the viewer. 

Okay, so now that’s all cleared-up. Let’s do better by Xion than literally everything Nomura has ever done. 

First of all, Roxas is not the deciding factor in Xion’s gender. We can keep the influence of Sora’s memories or whatever, but ‘Sora wanting it to be Kairi’ is not a good enough point. So, let’s rewrite that. 

No. i had no biological sex and no gender identity at its inception. Whenever I refer to ‘No. i’ on the blog, I refer to it with neutral pronouns. I do this because No. i is not fundamentally Xion. Vexen could recreate a thousand No. i and none of them would be Xion. More than that, not all of them would be girls, or even boys, or individuals that don’t fit between the hard dichotomy. They could be anything or anyone they want. Xion however, came about when she was: named by Xemnas, lived under the influenced of the Organization members, experienced Sora’s memories, and made fundamental choices about her identity. Xion is a gradual creation and unique person who can’t just be ‘remade’ from notes. One of the influences on Xion was Larxene. An incredibly brief and one-sided influence, but effective nonetheless. 

I once joked that Xion saw Larxene beat up Demyx one day and decided that girls are cool, therefore she wants to be one. Well, a year later, that is effectively blog canon. Gender is arbitrary and really more based upon our expression than any hard limits anyway. Xion learned from Larxene a few things:

1. girls are cool, boys drool

2. feminine expression and style is badass

3. making boys terrified of you is fun

4. be sassy

And Larxene uses she/her pronouns, and calls herself a ‘girl.’ Therefore, Xion will use she/her pronouns and also call herself a girl. And because Xion thinks of herself as a girl, that’s enough for her to be one. The influence of Sora’s memories may’ve pressed upon her the appearance of Kairi, but that’s only because Xion agreed with that image. Kairi was a suitable blue print to ‘be more girl’ and therefore more badass. 

If you ask Xion about her gender she’ll just tell you she’s a girl. I don’t think she’ll ever really evolve past that either. It’s not complex to her. She dresses how she wants. She likes sort’ve feminine clothes too, purples, red, blues. Boots are pratical and shirts should be comfy. The next thing about gender is that we can choose how we express it and what it means to us. As an adult Xion can look at her gender as apart of her identity, one way she can define and describe herself. As someone who has fought so hard and struggled for so long to establish herself as a distinct person, the affirmation of Xion’s gender is powerful and meaningful to her.

[notbang]

that cat’s something i can’t explain

read on ao3

1.

“Rebecca,” Nathaniel says in surprise when he spots his girlfriend weaving through the Mountaintop lobby, flour-dusted apron and all, making a very determined beeline in his general direction. “What’s going on?”

As soon as he says the words, he expects her haughtiness—an affronted why can’t a humble pretzel maker visit her lawyer lover on the top floor, perhaps, or something equally colourful. The closer she gets, though, he can see she’s vibrating with something other than deliberately cloying indignation.

“What’s going on,” she says emphatically, dropping her phone on the front desk with enough force that its momentum slides it towards him, “is that if I had to be subjected to this monstrosity, then so you do you.”

He stops the phone before it can ricochet off the edge of the counter, eyebrows raised as he unlocks the screen.

“Now that we know a love of the theatrical arts is something which we both share—”

“Wouldn’t say ‘love’,” Nathaniel interjects.

“—we can have these very important cultural discussions together.”

He makes it approximately twenty seconds into the video before he turns it off.

This isn’t the first time he’s found himself completely miffed by one of Rebecca’s outbursts, but even in his bemusement it’d be disingenuous of him to paint it as one of her qualities he considers skewed towards the negative. There’s always been something so captivating in the way her feelings tend to command the entirety of her tiny frame, expressing endlessly outwards, always making her seem so much more than what she is.

Still, he’s at a loss for what to offer her in return for her obvious discontent, and he settles for stating the obvious, well aware she’ll hand him precisely the response she was looking for soon enough.

“Don’t see it?” he offers, tone tentative and polite.

Predictably, she scoffs at him, jabbing two accusing pointer fingers in his direction. “Ha. Don’t see it. I wasn’t planning on it, was I? But then they had to go and make it terrible, which is how they reel you in! And not just plain old terrible, either—it’s, like, the uncanny valley, haunt-your-dreams kind of terrible that cancels out how terrible the source material already is, because that’s how negative integers work, for some reason, and now it’s like this… furry train wreck I can’t look away from,” she finishes, gesticulating wildly and scrunching up her hands into frustrated little cat claws.

“Did Nathaniel finally admit he’s a furry?” Maya whispers with conspiratorial glee, popping up unannounced on Rebecca’s immediate left.

“Ugh, Maya, go away,” she groans.

“You don’t work here anymore—you can’t just boss people around,” Nathaniel says, before straightening his shoulders and adding pointedly, “Maya, go away. Please.”

Rebecca raises her eyebrows as the office assistant pushes her glasses up her nose, pouts and scampers away. She leans across the desk to give him a blatant up-and-down. “Wow, look at you—dolling out pleases like you’re Oprah or something. So cordial, yet commanding. It’s kind of sexy, in a Miss Manners kind of way.”

“Don’t you have a storefront you should be manning?”

“I’d be able to hear the fire alarm from here,” she defends, then pushes up on her tip-toes to plant a kiss on his right cheek. Nathaniel pauses in his photocopying, ears pinking, then reciprocates with a brief press of his open palm to the small of her back.

He clears his throat. “I’ll see you at lunch,” he calls after her, but he’s certain she doesn’t hear him, already having summoned Maya back, strangely intent on correcting her opinions on something involving, if he’s heard correctly, Taylor Swift.

2.

When he makes his way down the hall back to her bedroom, still towelling his hair, there’s a message notification waiting on his phone from Rebecca.

“What is this?” he asks, waving his screen at her.

She doesn’t even glance up from the novel she’s reading, a stray lock of her hair looping around her finger in an absent spiral. He watches the movement for a moment, transfixed, until she disengages the curl to flick the page over and finally responds. “It’s Hermione after she messes up her Polyjuice potion in Chamber of Secrets. Obviously.”

“Okay.” Then, after a beat, “Why am I looking at it?”

“Because Paula doesn’t understand musicals or Harry Potter or memes, so it had to go to you by default.”

“Do you understand memes?”

“Plus,” she says, ignoring him, “you’re, like, romantically obligated to find every message I send you entertaining.”

He plugs his phone into charge before joining her on the bed, shuffling as high up on the pillows as he can manage to keep his toes from skimming the end of the mattress when he stretches out. It’s not entirely successful, but if he bends at the knees a little and curls on his side, he knows from past experience he can make it work.

“Am I, just. Even the ones composed entirely of emojis?”

She grins. “Especially the ones composed entirely of emojis.”

Rebecca ditches her paperback in favour of wriggling into his warmth, murmuring her contentment when he slips an arm around her waist to draw her close and drop a chaste kiss onto the crown of her head. Her hair’s still damp and smells vaguely floral, like her shampoo, and he lets his lips linger there, breathing her in.

His phone vibrates twice on the nightstand.

When pulls back to peer down his nose at her, she’s not-so-subtle in her attempt to conceal what she’s cradling innocently between their chests. He sighs, feigning exasperation. “You just sent me a cat emoji, didn’t you?”

“I absolutely did not,” she says solemnly, then, dissolving into laughter under his scrutiny, confesses, “It was more like five. And I think maybe a llama by mistake?”

3.

“It’s like they didn’t even try,” Rebecca announces loudly in the vicinity of Nathaniel’s ear, rudely jerking him back from the precipice of sleep.

“Oh good,” he sighs, blinking his eyebrows higher up his forehead in the darkness. “This again.”

He grunts out his disapproval as the bedside lamp clicks back on, casting half the apartment in dramatic shadow as it burns his retinas with its unexpected blinding light.

“And I’m just saying,” Rebecca continues, oblivious or in the very least unconcerned with his state of obvious discomfort, apparently immune to any such adjustment period of her own, “did anyone consult TS Eliot before reinventing his heartfelt poetry as a vaginal yeast infection in musical form?”

Nathaniel’s nose wrinkles to match the pre-existing scrunch of his face. “What?”

“Never mind, it was a whole a thing. My point is, no film is an island unto itself. People signed off on this. Multiple people looked at those designs and said, you know what’s gonna add a layer of appeal to a musical that already has no plot? Stripping it of its one redeeming feature—AKA the crazy 80s hair—and replacing it with horrifying, humanoid heads that somehow manage to look furry and bald at the same time.”

Even if Nathaniel felt remotely qualified to comment on the topic—which, for the record, oddly flattered though he is at Rebecca’s pervasive belief that he might be, he decidedly is not—it’s late, it’s a weeknight, and he really just wants to sleep.

“If you hate it so much, rewrite it,” he says before pointedly rolling away from her with a yawn and yanking the covers up over his shoulders.

She follows him, flicking him hard in the back of the neck where his nape’s still exposed above the blanket. “Not cute, dude. You don’t get points for that one anymore. And you can’t ‘rewrite’ CGI. Even if you could, a thousand rewrites isn’t gonna change the eyesore that I—nay, humankind—have been subjected to.”

Nathaniel buries his face in the pillow and groans something that resembles her name before it gets jumbled in its muffled pass through the cotton.

“Rebecca,” he says once he’s resurfaced, trying again, tone still undeniably clipped as he scrubs a palm across his face. “I have a deposition first thing tomorrow. Do we really need to have this conversation now?”

She wilts visibly, chagrined, eyes flicking to the clock at his bedside that may as well have ABSURDLY LATE splashed across its interface in red LEDs. “Sorry,” she says meekly, officially rebuked, sinking back into the sheets and switching off the lamp.

The room is blissfully silent save for the collective electronic hum of his appliances, but despite the stillness, Nathaniel finds himself unable to drift back off. Without opening his eyes he pats around beside him until his fingers connect with the phone he’d known with every fibre of his being she was still holding, confiscating and discarding on his nightstand, out of reach.

“Go to sleep,” he admonishes.

“I was just—”

“Sleep,” he repeats, voice gruff with exhaustion, enfolding her firmly in his arms as a preventative measure, practically able to hear her calculating the device’s retrieval in the dark.

4.

“What are we dealing with, here? Minor song lyric alteration? Beloved song exclusion? Reinforced misogyny? Racially insensitive miscast?”

Nathaniel startles at the sound of the door opening, Paula spilling into Rebecca’s house like she lives there and depositing her bags in the entryway with a dramatic thud.

Rebecca, by comparison, is unperturbed by the intrusion, swivelling on a breakfast stool to look at her friend and shake her head. “We’re not talking misdemeanours here, Paula. We’re talking big league. Like, DEFCON-5.”

“Oh,” Paula says. She clucks in feigned sympathy and shoots a knowing glance in Nathaniel’s direction. “This is about the singing cats, huh.”

Even focused as he is on rinsing out her blender, he doesn’t miss the way Rebecca shrinks guiltily away from him in his periphery.

“Did you call an early morning emergency meeting of your girl mob to discuss a movie trailer you didn’t like?” he asks, careful to keep his tone light.

“It’s gurl group, but you know that, and no—Valencia is in town for her sister’s birthday and Heather’s working at this Home Base today and Paula’s new job means she has to like, actually do work now, so breakfast is the only time all of us were free.”

As if on cue, Heather and Valencia sidle through the open doorway.

“Oh, he’s here?” Heather drawls with an exaggerated grimace when she spots Nathaniel. “Looks like you’ve already found someone to rant about your dumb movie to, so I’m gonna just—”

Her attempt to pivot on the spot and leave is thwarted by the arm Valencia loops through her own, catching her before she can re-cross the threshold.

Nathaniel wastes no time in whipping his head around to aim an aha look in Rebecca’s direction, and she’s just as quick to defend, “Yeah, okay, so it’s on the agenda. Amongst other things.”

“Is that so. Like what?”

“Like… topics I don’t know about yet because nobody ever responds to my requests to send me their items for the agenda.”

“God, no more agendas,” Paula grouches, reaching for a mug from the overhead cabinet. “Or meetings. My entire life is meetings and agendas and scheduling conflicts. Can’t we just have a good old fashioned rendezvous? I feel like nobody ever rendezvouses anymore.”

“Ooh, or how about a tryst,” Rebecca suggests, waggling her eyebrows.

“Girl, you know I love you,” Valencia says, “but I’m not trysting with you. I have a fiancée.”

Heather hums, drumming her fingers against the countertop as she hoists herself up onto a stool. “So full disclosure, Hector and I saw the Cats revival with his mom last year, and I liked it. I think the lack of plot worked in Hector’s favour.”

“There’s no accounting for taste,” Rebecca says, wistful.

“You liked The Lion King,” Nathaniel feels obligated to point out. “That’s technically about digitally rendered singing cats.”

“I tolerated The Lion King because of my deep fondness of the original and because I knew I could bully you into seeing it with me because of its zoological themes,” she corrects. “Anyway, that remake’s issue was that it had no soul. This remake’s issue is that it’s, like, demonically possessed, or something. Which, to be fair, cats, as a species, generally are.”

“Rebecca,” Valencia begins, voice all saccharine and scathing, “need I remind you of one of the many occasions you broke up with this one—” She jabs a thumb in Nathaniel’s face, making him frown. “—with the intention of adopting an entire shelter’s worth of felines?”

“That was a different time,” Rebecca dismisses. “I was punishing a version of myself I wasn’t proud of by resigning her to the fate I believed she deserved.”

Nathaniel tilts his head, bemused. “Huh?”

“Oh, she wanted to be a crazy cat lady,” Heather translates, enunciating loudly, “because she couldn’t bone you in the stationery closet without feeling bummed about it anymore. Just, like. While we’re on the subject of trysts.”

“Heath-er,” Rebecca hisses, kicking her ex-housemate in the shin.

Parsing their less than stellar communal romantic track record with a group of women all too happy to gang up on him afforded the slightest opportunity isn’t high on Nathaniel’s to-do list for the morning, and a flick of his wrist to check his smart watch is all the excuse he needs to make a timely escape.

“On that note,” Nathaniel says, snatching his car keys off the counter, “I’m going to leave you ladies be.”

The conversation barely dips as he sees himself out.

5.

“So in between your being typecast as our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, you didn’t happen to don, say, a unitard and leg warmers, did you?”

“What?”

He knows he should be used to this by now—this tendency towards unexpected tack-changing that he’d liken to a dog with a bone, if the cliche didn’t feel somewhat inapt, considering. It’s not like he’s unaccustomed, after all this this time, to Rebecca’s one track mind. It’s just that up until this point, most of the tracks she’s been fixated on treading have usually, admittedly, served his own interests as easily as her own.

“Just checking, because for the record, it’s kind of a massive deal breaker for me.”

She flops into his side, not entirely-unpleasantly sticky, or in the very least, skin virtually indistinguishable from the slick of his own. Rebecca’s ability to pick up intelligible conversation immediately post-coitus is a talent he does not share, and as the golden fog of afterglow suffuses through his bloodstream he takes his time meandering back towards the realm where articulation is possible, content in the knowledge his bedmate will happily barrel on without him until he catches up.

“Just kidding,” she seems to feel the need to clarify, even in the absence of any protest on his behalf. “The knowledge that you were a theatre kid is such an aphrodisiac to me that it well and truly trumps any potential feline faux pas.”

“Wasn’t a theatre kid,” he corrects, the response so automatic he’s not sure it counts as cognitive function.

“Agree to disagree,” Rebecca says, earning herself an exasperated sigh.

Once the drumbeat of his pulse has slowed in his ears, he cracks an eyelid, suspicious of the lack of movement and sudden cease in chatter from the woman sprawled out across his upper torso. Rebecca’s gazing up at him as if she’s been patiently awaiting his full attention, chin resting on her stacked hands, a lazy, satisfied smile stretched across her features.

“You know, for someone who claims to hate Cats,” Nathaniel tells her with amusement after stretching to peck her on the mouth, “you kind of talk about Cats a lot. Some might even describe you as off-puttingly passionate on the subject. Not me,” he backtracks at her incredulous glare, tucking her hair behind her ear with affection. “I find your aggressive diatribe charming.”

Suitably placated, she drops her head back down against his shoulder. “They do say there’s a fine line between love and hate.”

He skates his hand down the bare expanse of her back, letting it settle in the dip between her hips. She undulates with the caress, thighs parting and sliding to bracket one of his. If she’s gunning for a second round he’s still got his refractory period to contend with, but there’s always other ways to keep her occupied, his loose-limbed lack of focus notwithstanding.

She doesn’t push it any further, though, apparently content for now in her own come-down, and he’s just about to give in to the pull towards sleep when it occurs to him what he’s neglected to ask.

“Did you?”

Rebecca’s even breaths, which up until now have been fanning rhythmically across the damp of his throat, catch and falter enough that he takes note of their telling absence.

“Hmm? Did I what?” she deflects, and his eyes narrow at the way she doubles down on the suggestive patterns she seems intent on tracing across his pectorals.

Determined not to be swayed, he shifts beneath her, laughter rumbling through him and muscle mass quaking like tectonic plates beneath the surface of his skin. “Oh, you so did,” he grins, pleased to have been on the money with his flicker of suspicion, eager to bask, as always, in any correct insight he’s managed to garner into his girlfriend’s endlessly multi-faceted brain. “This whole time there’s been incriminating photos of you somewhere wearing tacky fake-fur and an unseemly wig. There’s no hiding your shameful history, now—the cat is out of the bag.”

Rebecca smacks him on the chest, unimpressed, and he can see every telltale corner of her mouth at which the scowl fails to conceal the twitches of her laughter. “So what if my vendetta is somewhat rooted in past trauma? It doesn’t change basic fact, which is that the mere existence of Cats—animal, musical or movie—is a plague against mankind. And for what it’s worth, I didn’t need the wig—my early adolescent frizz was unseemly enough all on its own.”

Where late-night exhaustion-fuelled irritation existed only a few evenings prior, Nathaniel finds himself suddenly capable of only overwhelming fondness. “I think you would have made a very fearsome cat,” he tells her seriously. “All feisty, and nimble.”

He takes two locks of her hair, twisting them up into faux-ears on the top of her head until she bats his hands away, failing miserably at stifling her giggles.

“Stop that. You’re one adjective away from me adding myself back into the Mountaintop text chain just so I can make Maya’s week.”

“Uh-huh. Because I’m the one between us whose levels of preoccupation are concerning.”

He rolls her beneath him, nuzzling his nose against hers in an exaggerated way he can tell irritates her to no end given the context, but muscle memory wins out and she melts into it, the frown lines easing from her forehead as she moulds her mouth against his.

It’s only a matter of time before she’s pressing insistently against him, appetite predictably reawakened, and every sordid pun he could torture her with right now tingles at the ready on the tip of his tongue. But then she sighs into him with a kind of giddiness that sends his mind shattering into static, and as he nips and noses his way down past her belly every teasing thought disintegrates into the ether as he touches her until she’s arching, unraveling, drawing out his name in what can only be described as a delighted purr.

[emospritelet]

Kiss of Life - chapter 1

Yes, it’s the rewrite of KoL that no one asked for but which you’re getting because I’m publishing this thing to AO3.  Dr!Gold and Candy Striper!Belle, the definition of which I’m kind of playing fast and loose with as the plot dictates, but in my defence Storybrooke General is a hospital in a small town and therefore more flexible with its staff.  Oh, and this fic is extremely slow burn because these two are idiots.

AO3 link 

Winter came to coastal Maine with biting winds and the first flecks of snow in the air, and Belle French shivered as she hurried along the street to Granny's diner, fallen leaves cartwheeling ahead of her in flurries of red and orange.  It was early November, and the ground was already sparkling with frost each morning, her father bringing plants into his florist shop each night to keep them from the worst of the cold.  She thought she had grown used to the north-eastern US, after so many years in Boston, but the winter wind was bitter, and she tugged her coat close.

The diner was blessedly warm as she entered, and she sighed in relief, smiling as she spied Mary Margaret Blanchard waving to her from a table near the window.  The young woman was a year or two older than her, pale-skinned and small-featured, her dark hair in a pixie cut above black jeans and a grey sweater.  She was one of the first to have welcomed her to the town a week earlier, and had introduced Belle to some other women around her age.  Mary Margaret taught at the elementary school, but she was also very involved in the local community, and it was through her that Belle hoped to be able to find work.  Another young woman, Ruby Lucas, had offered her a job waiting tables in the diner, and while Belle was grateful, she had done more than enough of that while studying.  Besides, the post was part-time only, and Belle really needed something more substantial if she was ever to get her own place.

Ruby came bouncing over as Belle slid into a seat opposite Mary Margaret, pad in hand and a pencil poised to take their order.  Shining dark hair was held back from her face with a red hairband to match her lipstick, a tight white blouse hugging her curves above a pair of red shorts that Belle was sure must be freezing anywhere but the humid diner.

"Hey, Belle, Mary Margaret!" she chirped.  "What can I get you guys?"

"Hot chocolate, please," said Belle.

"You want cream?" asked Ruby.  "Chocolate flakes? Marshmallows?"

"God, the works," said Belle, making her grin.  "I'll have cinnamon on top, too.  Mary Margaret?"

"Sounds good to me," agreed Mary Margaret, flicking dark hair out of her eyes. "How soon until you get off, Ruby?  You could join us."

Ruby curled her lip.

"I have three hours left on the clock," she grumbled, but then brightened. "How about we do a girls' night, though?  Friday?"

"I'm in."

Belle nodded her agreement, shrugging off her coat and unwinding the scarf from around her neck as Ruby trotted off with their order.  Mary Margaret put her head on one side.

"Any luck?" she asked, and Belle shook her head.

"Nothing that gives me the hours I need," she said.  "Oh, I could get two or three jobs, if I wanted, but there's never any guarantee the shifts would line up.  I need something that's full time, no scurrying around town trying to scrape together enough hours, you know?"

"Well, I did have one idea," admitted Mary Margaret.  "I help out at the hospital a couple of afternoons a week.  They're always looking for new staff.  Lot of turnover, you know?  Part of me thinks it might be the nurse in charge, but then I tell myself to try and be a better person."

She grinned, eyes twinkling, and Belle leaned on the table.

"But I don't have any medical qualifications."

"Oh, it's not a nurse's post," Mary Margaret assured her.  "You'd just help out with bed-making, fetching and carrying things for the nurses, making the patients more comfortable, that kind of thing."

"And it pays okay?"

"Minimum wage," said Mary Margaret, pulling a face.  "You're not likely to get anything more than that in this town anyway, though."

"Yeah, so I'm starting to see," sighed Belle, feeling a little dejected.  "Still, I have to start somewhere.  Any idea who I need to talk to?"

"I can get you an application, if you like," said Mary Margaret.  "Like I said, they're always hiring.  Just - try to ignore Zelena."

"Who's Zelena?"

“Well, come on, keep up!”

Belle rolled her eyes at Nurse Zelena Mills’ back as the woman stalked along the hospital corridors in her navy-blue scrubs, reddish-blonde curls tied back in a tight bun.  The first day of her new post had not had the best of starts.  Zelena had the task of showing new candy stripers the ropes, and appeared to have taken an instant dislike to her, though Belle couldn’t think why.  Mary Margaret had been right about the post paying minimum wage, but that was better than nothing, and at least she felt as though she would be doing something useful.  She was determined to make a success of it, and so she tried to look past Zelena’s curling lip and snide remarks.

“You'll need to ditch the heels and get some flats,” said Zelena, over her shoulder.  “You’ll be running around all day, and I don’t have time to wait around for you to totter about in those ridiculous things.”

“Oh, I’m used to them,” Belle assured her.  “I can run in them and everything.  It’ll be fine for today.  Do I need to wear scrubs?”

Zelena sniffed, glancing back.

"Of course not," she said witheringly.  "Are you a trained professional?  We don't want the patients or their families thinking you know what you're talking about, don't be ridiculous!"

Belle dug her nails into her palms to stop herself making a sarcastic reply.  It wouldn't do to get fired before she'd even started.

"You can wear your own clothing, but keep it simple: slacks or skirts with shirts," Zelena went on.  "Nothing too revealing, mind, this is a hospital, not a bar.  Get rid of those ridiculous shoes.  And make sure you wear your I.D. at all times."

"Right," said Belle, wanting to stick out her tongue.

“Well, let me show you the long-term ward,” said Zelena ungraciously.  “Mostly empty at the moment, thank goodness.  We have a coma patient, but you’ll be pleased to know he doesn’t require much attention.  Terrible conversationalist.”

She snickered at that, and Belle frowned at her insensitivity as she pushed open the door.  Zelena froze immediately, sucking in a breath, and Belle almost ran into her.

If tubes and wires had not been connected to his body, the man in the bed in front of them could have been sleeping.  The ward was light and airy, the beeping of machines and the somewhat clinical smell making it very clear that this was a hospital, and not a convalescent home.  A doctor was looking the man over, making notes on a chart.  He was short and slender, a gold-handled cane hooked over his forearm as he inspected the chart in his hands.  Brown hair streaked with silver fell around his face, and Belle’s breath caught as he glanced around, dark eyes fixing on hers.  His face was angular, with high cheekbones and a sensual lower lip that for a brief, incredible moment made her wonder what it felt like to kiss him.  She could feel herself start to blush, and the man’s eyes crinkled as he smiled before glancing at Zelena.

“Miss Mills,” he said, in a warm, Scottish accent that made Belle’s abdomen tighten.  “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Dr Gold,” simpered Zelena.  “We must stop meeting like this.”

The harshness had gone from her voice, replaced by a breathy sweetness that made Belle want to giggle.  Dr Gold looked bemused.

“We must stop meeting in the hospital where we both work?” he said, puzzled.  “Well, if you say so.  Are you going to introduce me to your friend?”

“Oh, this is Miss French, taking over from Miss Boyd,” said Zelena, waving a dismissive hand.

Dr Gold took the cane from his forearm, getting it underneath him before taking a step closer, his eyes on Belle’s, a smile lifting the corners of his mouth.

“Delighted to make your acquaintance, Miss French,” he said.  “I hope you enjoy working here.”

He gave her a tiny bow of his head, his hair shining in the light, and walked off, his pronounced limp providing a reason for the cane.  He moved quickly enough despite it, his uneven stride fluid, and Belle could feel her heart thumping as she watched him go.

"That's Dr Gold," said Zelena sharply.  "The most senior doctor in this place and very important, do you understand?  I very much doubt you'll need to speak to him regularly, but if there's anything he asks you for, you're to give it priority."

"I'll do my best to follow the example I'm given," said Belle, turning to her with a bright smile, and Zelena's eyes narrowed.

"See that you do," she said.  "Now let me show you the canteen.  You get a half-hour break.  Don't make me come looking for you or there'll be hell to pay."

She stomped off again, and Belle rolled her eyes, sticking out her tongue.  She was beginning to understand why her predecessor Ashley Boyd had left after only three weeks in the role.  Still, she had dealt with unpleasant people all her life, and she could handle Zelena.  Dr Gold had seemed far more amiable.  Yes, she was looking forward to working with him.

[violetsystems]

#personal

The weather is back to being amazing again.  This is the horrible curse about Chicago.  For maybe five or six months out of the year, the temperature is gorgeous if not sometimes extreme.  Now that the AC is on, my cat sleeps like a human in bed often.  A little human.  I wake up a few times a night to find her in different spots.  Mostly just waiting for me to feed her wet food in the morning.  I still feed the cat outside my door.  My immediate neighbors do as well.  I think when you think about common ground between people in society you have a good starting point there.  They share the porch here.  Sometimes it’s a little claustrophobic.  But it is never trans or homophobic.  I think people like myself who openly identify as straight and cis could do a better job at empathizing.  But people are already bothered enough by society to where I try to tread lightly as to how I do this.  Nobody wants to be patronized.  It’s tacky.  So it’s always the little things in this neighborhood that communicate the most.  Hanging a plant for your elderly neighbor.  Shoveling the snow early in the morning in the dead of winter.  In the summer, it’s a little easier to be patient with the ways people try to communicate.  And then there’s the glaringly obvious clues that people don’t really give a shit.  I went to do the laundry yesterday.  It’s a small building so not a lot of traffic down there.  The trash is usually filled with laundry supplies.  I went down there and somebody had deposited a U Kotex tampon box in the trash.  This act alone baffles me but it’s such a familiar thing.  I would call it a microaggression.  And here’s how I would explain it.  Back when I was shoveling the snow, somebody had scrawled a message in my immediate neighbor’s doorstep.  Part of it had been snowed over but the message I could read simply said “Gay people live here.”  I couldn’t tell who wrote it.  I worried that my neighbors didn’t.  In short, I cared silently about how this would be perceived.  So I erred on the side of being inclusive and shoveled it last.  Either way, it was information I could choose to respect or neglect.  Months later, finding a tampon box in the shared laundry room when you know some of your neighbor’s identify as nonbinary at the least is sus.  I did the same as I did back in winter.  I disposed of it before anyone got the wrong idea.  Again I’m no detective.  But it’s obvious to me people don’t care about how that might make somebody feel.  I do.  I don’t go knocking on somebody’s door and loudly exclaim “why are you throwing your tampon box in the trash?”  It could have been them for all I know.  So like I do often, I fix the situation before an incident arises.  And nobody knows it was me.  I know for a fact certain neighbors of mine are completely passive aggressive.  The couple behind me definitely gets off on not locking the gate behind them.  It just so happens my immediate neighbors and I are the ones who seem to get targeted for package theft.  I’m used to being targeted and smeared.  When I see other people getting fucked with it largely concerns me.  I can’t always erase the fact that people often play elaborate pranks on me in public.  Where I live and sleep is a different matter.  The problem with microaggressions in society is pretty simple.  Bullying never went away.  It’s normalized as a badge of courage.  A rite of passing in society.  A hazing and a reprogramming of sorts.  Some of us feel pressured by society to fight back.  To act up.  To tear down.  And then some of us have fought that battle alone for years only to be ostracized and explained away.  I spoke with a friend recently about being bored with Chicago and alienated.  They replied flippantly “Well everybody knows you aren’t really a big fan of being social.”  Everybody also knows I flew to Asia fourteen times by myself over a five year period.  The attention to detail only goes so far before it has jumped the shark.

Any sort of a sacred communication, writing or otherwise will eventually degrade into noise.  People in Chicago definitely don’t like you being you outside of a clearly, organized group.  I was reading something about Pride recently how the organizers did not want police involved at all.  It sounds like a no brainer to me.  Pride started as a riot.  A necessary response to oppression and repression.  As an aging straight white man I don’t really see myself at pride.  Neither do I see police belonging there as well.  And yet.  The police feel left out or something?  When Black Lives Matter makes a valid point about police being the number one threat to the very definition of the movement this is a threat how?  When you’ve had your civil rights shredded daily in broad daylight just being a regular person and I mouth the words ACAB all of the sudden I’m a threat to society?  Somehow me opening my mouth and speaking up for other people makes me a target.  And yet I do it pretty clearly and succinctly under my rights of freedom of speech.  It gets abused.  Toyed with.  Tampered with.  Just like any basic infiltration of any cool thing or movement here in America.  No matter how many years I see these people try to throw a wrench in independent movements thinking for themselves, I’m struck at how amateur they become.  America can’t have you thinking for yourself without supervision.  It bullies people into being afraid.  It infiltrates with a smile and a well meaning look only to poison the well and look back accusingly.  “Why aren’t you thirsty?”  It sticks it’s fucking nose into everything and acts like its the champion or savior when it has done nothing except play the villain.  Good cop.  Bad Cop.  Still a fucking cop.  And it doesn’t actually have a leg to stand on.  It uses other people to do it’s dirty work.  Pits movements against each other to neutralize dissent.  It takes over the core history and rewrites itself into the story as the main character.  It buried people’s authentic narratives in favor of lumping them into a moderated congregation.  It talks but never lets you speak.  When it does, it talks over you and mansplains everything you’ve been saying all along wrong.  It’s baked into the culture.  Traditional American doublespeak is an advancement of Orwellian lying.  People think they can smile so sweetly and say absolutely nothing of substance.  That these little pockets of resistance need to be ironed out and managed.  That autonomy isn’t an actual survival reflex.  Of all the people you know who have been fucked with and survived.  It’s me.  And I am just some normal dude on the internet.  And yet I can’t speak loud enough in mainstream society to get people to understand I have a point.  That people gaslight, gatekeep, and gestapo their way into putting you in your place.  The shit I’ve seen here in America let alone Chicago would have Germany in 1940 blushing.  And yet, I don’t really put up with any of it.  It’s fucking clown show level cosplay.  Rich people who think they can walk through walls of ethics, privacy and culture to throw around their weight.  People don’t like me these days because I interfere with them directly making a profit.  Imagine that.  I’ve been targeted for everything.  Made to look like I’m crazy, old and alone.  And now I have to deal with billionaires afraid of where I’ve invested my meager retirement funds.  And I deal with it everyday.  Sharks swimming around me in Teslas and T-Shirts trying to intimidate me into throwing in the towel.  After the towel was thrown at me repeatedly.  I can’t explain how ridiculous this is.  I can explain how insensitive it is to throw a fucking tampon in the laundry room when your neighbors are gender queer.  And then as an ally, people think it’s my job to confront this.  I do.  I put all in the trash where it belongs.  Where the racoons and my civil rights still dwell.  You don’t need these people in your business.  You don’t need to feel guilted by the oppressor into thinking there is something wrong with you not trusting authority.  They openly lie, plot and spread deceit.  So don’t let them into your scenes, movements or personal lives and move on.

This is easy to say when you live outside the blast radius of culture war.  I happen to enjoy the freedom of living in a city just as much as everybody.  It is something else to manage the personal and organizational politics therein.  New York to me is a little less pretentious and stuck up about the status quo than the midwest.  The midwest is clingy and clumsy about how it asserts it’s power in a vacuum.  And Chicago right now is just one huge lawless fucking vacuum.  I would love to write about it.  Maybe even sit down for a chat with the Mayor about how she plans to fuck up the next two years of being half in control.  But we all know I’ll never make it as a journalist.  I’ll never have the opportunity here to be acknowledged as a writer.  I’ll never be recognized for anything I’ve ever done because it would require an inconvenient truth to be brought out into the open.  You only make it in this town if you are connected.  You only get to be free if you let the powers that be have their say.  It’s only ok to survive if you are transparent in everything you do.  And when you are, your information is spread out to the point it’s a liability at best.  People already know everything about you including where you fit in the hierarchy of capitalism.  I belong on the outskirts with all the “freaks.”  Being bullied like it’s 1990 all over again.  These people never learned to be better.  So they simply get off on judging everybody else by their lackluster fucking standards.  You can stand up to them.  You can learn how to tell if someone is being genuine or trying to subvert your power.  You can say no.  You can not let these fuckers into your most trusted places and spaces.  And you can fuck with them back if they do.  For me, it’s not a good look for me to take the bait.  This entire process has been hopeless to me.  I have learned nothing good about how real society operates at its bitter core.  What I can tell you is this.  People tell you whatever they think will make you feel good.  And if you question their motives, they will make you feel guilty first before getting caught in a lie.  If you catch them in a lie, they act like you are crazy.  And this is the rhythm of how protest, resistance, and freedom is squelched in America.  Nobody is fighting back.  I would know.  Because I am literally exhausted making this point as an ally for years on the internet.  We need to organize and yet we’re too busy ripping each other apart.  We know we have common ground.  We know we connect in genuine ways still.  And people are scared to.  They’re just coming out of their shells.  I think the whole point of things like Pride were to create autonomous zones where people could feel free.  To feel like they weren’t judged or watched.  I know what it is like to be surveilled on levels I’m embarrassed to share.  I live that hell every day of my life for reasons unknown.  I don’t know how it was brought on me.  It hurts.  Every fucking day of my life to be watched and misunderstood.  I created a sacred space for myself to communicate this.  A place where I can be proud of who I was and talk about it.  A place where I could catch my breath and continue to resist and to think.  And there’s no shortage of right wing nuts who argue their stupid clubhouses need to be protected by a flag most people wipe their ass with.  Respect is a two way street.  I’m just directing traffic.  And I’m warning people around my neighborhood specifically.  I’ve seen the passive aggressive judgmental bullshit go too far and I’m not going to let it go by unnoticed.  I know just who is completely full of shit out here and why.  And people trust that I know because it’s my job to pay attention to detail.  I don’t get paid shit to be a good person.  But you don’t get away with being racist, homophobic, transphobic or any other shit like that on my watch.  I will let you know on site.  One tampon at a time.  <3 Tim

[mybacklogbattle]

An Interview With The House in Fata Morgana Localization Team

Adventure games have undergone a renaissance as of late. With numerous Game of the Year awards and high praise lauded onto Telltale’s The Walking Dead: Season 1, games such as the reimagining of Sierra’s King’s Quest, Dontnod’s fantastically told Life is Strange, and Supermassive’s Until Dawn have all garnered critical acclaim and continue to push the genre forward.

While western developers focused on the genre continue to look ahead, visual novels - a subset of the adventure game genre - are also beginning to see continued growth. Titles such as the Zero Escape and Danganronpa series are helping open players’ palates to new experiences unique to this form of expression. And while these franchises have yet to become household names, their impact is slowly being felt by players who want rich, deeply told stories but with an eastern twist.

My journey to discover more visual novels beyond the aforementioned series lead me to watch an independent film directed by Anne Ferrero called Branching Paths. The film featured more than a dozen Japanese independent developers and doujin and chronicled the rise of the indie scene in Japan over the past several years. But one game featured, in particular, piqued my interest.

That game was The House in Fata Morgana.

Interested in the process of bringing this title for the western market I sent an inquiry to the game’s publisher MangaGamer and spoke to them about what it means to bring the title to a new audience, the challenges they faced with localization, and a possible PlayStation Vita port. Because a man can dream, can’t I?

This interview was conducted by Alex, one of the hosts of the Backlog Battle Podcast. Please note that some of the images used may be considered spoiler material.

Backlog Battle: Can you give us a little background about who you are and what you did for the game?

BlackDragonHunt: Hey, I’m BlackDragonHunt. I handled both the translation and localization programming for The House in Fata Morgana – essentially, I was responsible for both making the text into English and actually putting it into the game and making sure it displayed on the screen properly.

ritobito: Hey! I’m ritobito, editor of The House in Fata Morgana and its upcoming pre-sequel, A Requiem for Innocence. Essentially, I take BDH’s translated text and made it even better. Or that’s the idea, anyway! BB: Can you name some of the games you’ve worked on prior to this?

BDH: As far as translation goes, Fata Morgana was my first official release. I also did an 18+ action-oriented visual novel for JAST USA, but that one’s still not out yet.

Programming-wise, I was fully responsible for work on Princess Evangile and MYTH (both available on Steam), and I’ve provided assistance with a handful of other games, such as Go! Go! Nippon! 2015, Tokyo Babel, and Himawari -The Sunflower-.

rito: I edited Sonicomi for JAST, as well as Gahkthun of the Golden Lightning and The Shadows of Pygmalion for MangaGamer, among others.

BB: Prior to working on the game, have you ever heard of The House in Fata Morgana before?

BDH: I’d heard of the game in passing, but only because I knew we had the license for it. I was only doing programming for MangaGamer at the time, so it wasn’t until I was assigned to work on it that I actually sat down and dug into it for real. I certainly never expected it would become one of my favorite games ever.

rito: I hadn’t! I remember the night when I was assigned to it as editor, and I just drooled over the art and premise. I figured it would be my kinda thing, but hoo boy, talk about an understatement.

BB: What made MangaGamer decide to choose The House in Fata Morgana as the next project?

John Pickett: (Editor’s note: John Pickett is the Head Translator/Marketing Manager at MangaGamer) In many ways our acquisition of Fata Morgana was a stroke of luck. One of our industry connections was fairly close to Novectacle when he heard about other parties reaching out to them about possible localization, so he recommended they speak to us as well.

While Novectacle was very much interested in expanding their title to the West, they still had a lot of ideas they were working on developing for the game’s universe (like the side stories and extra chapters included in our upcoming release of The House in Fata Morgana: A Requiem for Innocence). As we talked to them about the title and their company, we found it was something we could really enjoy ourselves, and something we thought the West needed to help show players of all ages the kind of quality stories Visual Novels can offer. After that we made them our offer, which they found much more appealing since they could trust us to complete a quality localization while they focused on development of the world and story.

BB: Because someone will want us to do so, I gotta ask: Is the process of localization, in general, easy?

BDH: Anything but. It’s a constant battle of words, trying to find exactly the right word or phrase to convey an idea, getting the flow and rhythm and voice down. It’s a lot like creative writing, only with a nice helping of literary analysis on the side. The story’s already there, so you’re not writing to communicate your own ideas – you’re writing to communicate *someone else’s* ideas.

rito: It greatly depends on the project, but in general, no, not really! There are so many factors to take into account, such as a project’s length and the complexity of its subject matter (a fluffy slice-of-life moege is most likely going to be a good bit easier than, say, a heavily philosophical chuuni sci-fi game). Things are especially variable for the editor — a polished translation right out of the gate is going to require a heck of a lot less time and effort to edit than a rough, literal translation that will essentially require a full rewrite, and either scenario is quite common in localization.

Fata Morgana falls much closer to the former!

BB: Can you give us a little bit of insight on your localization workflow?

BDH: It’s not always an option, but my first step is generally to play through the game and get a feel for the characters, the tone and atmosphere, the style, that sort of thing. While I’m reading, I’ll usually make note of any important terminology/catch phrases/character quirks/etc. and try to iron as much of that out as I can ahead of time. And once I’m done with that, I’ll actually get started on translation. Editing follows not far behind, so I make sure to keep in regular touch with my editor about major localization decisions, and we’ll often go back and forth tossing ideas around for difficult lines until we come up with something satisfying. Then repeat the cycle again and again for X months until it’s finished and I decide I want to rewrite everything but I can’t because the game would never come out.

rito: In the case of Fata Morgana, I began the editing phase fairly late in the translation process, so I was fortunate enough to be able to read through most of the game with BDH’s translation already inserted. As BDH said, being able to read through a game beforehand isn’t always an option, but it’s something I like to do whenever time permits.

Really, though, the editing process isn’t all that different from translation in terms of workflow. Paying close attention to things like character voice and quirks (already adapted quite well by BDH, mind you!), style, tone… and making sure it all comes together elegantly in the end. BB: Aside from doing a fantastic job with localization, were there any other goals you imposed upon yourselves personally when tackling this game?

BDH: Fata Morgana tackles a lot of really heavy subject matter with care and respect, and I wanted to make absolutely sure that came through in the translation. It’s a very delicate balance portraying *characters* who are insensitive and disrespectful with regards to these topics without the *game* itself appearing the same way, and it was one of our top priorities to make sure we got that right.

rito: Getting everything done on time was a pretty big goal! But yeah, riffing off of what BDH said, I absolutely wanted to handle the game’s sensitive topics with care as well. For instance, I didn’t want anything to jump out as overly jarring, unless I was reasonably sure that it was meant to be so (and this was certainly the case at times)… but at the same time, I absolutely wanted to ensure that the dramatic, emotional moments had the biggest impact possible. Man, I love them emotional gut-punches.

BB: What were the challenges you faced during localization?

BDH: For me, the historical aspects were a big hurdle. The game takes place across a variety of time periods, each one with its own historical and cultural background that inspires events. I’m not a huge history buff though, so I spent a lot of time researching and asking questions to try and better understand that context.

rito: Yeah, the historical stuff was tricky. On my end, I wanted to sprinkle just enough archaisms and old-fashioned language to make each era stand out, without alienating the reader. At first, I toyed with the idea of going ham on each era’s language, adapting to period-appropriate dialects and such, but it became evident almost immediately that, even if I were able to accurately do so, it would take a tremendous amount of time and effort and very likely rub the reader the wrong way. Not to mention the question of what to do in chapters set even before Early Modern English, in France, etc. BB: How has The House in Fata Morgana been accepted by the western audience thus far?

BDH: The reception’s been pretty amazing so far. I’ve seen so much love from nearly everyone who’s played it, and I couldn’t be happier.

rito: Overwhelmingly well! I had the utmost confidence that others would adore this game as I had, so I’m hardly surprised to see glowing praise for it week after week. And that’s another exciting thing — even a full year later, word continues to spread thanks to the incredibly passionate fans.

BB: What are your thoughts on the visual novel genre in general?

BDH: I think the combination of visuals, audio, text, and interactivity allows VNs to tell a wide range of compelling stories that couldn’t exist in any other form. It’s a medium with a rich history and broad selection of games with something to offer almost everyone, in both Japanese and English. But while the market’s certainly growing, many incredible titles still go sadly unnoticed outside of a small circle.

rito: It’s such an incredibly accessible, versatile genre. If you’re craving a strong story with a powerful payoff, it’s so easy to hop right into a VN. From a creative perspective as well, VNs make it incredibly easy to tell that story, allowing aspiring writers and game developers to share their creations with the world far easier than if they were to make a traditional game.

BB: What are your favorite games in the genre?

BDH: Fata Morgana, obviously. Other favorites include Steins;Gate, Ever17, the Flowers series, and the Clockwork Ley-Line series. I could go on for a while.

rito: I love the “Infinity” series (Ever17 and Remember11, in particular), Liar-soft’s Steampunk series (Gahkthun, Sona-Nyl, and so on), Code: Realize, Steins;Gate, Kara no Shoujo… and of course the “hybrid” games such as Danganronpa.

BB: With the increasing popularity of visual novels such as Zero Escape and the Danganronpa series on consoles, will the Vita version ever see the light of day in the West?

BDH: I certainly hope so!

rito: Vita Means Life. Never say never!

BB: Would you like to say anything to anyone who’s thinking about picking up this game?

BDH: Fata Morgana is a wholly unique game that takes advantage of the visual novel medium to tell a story that wouldn’t be possible in any other format. It’s a heartrending tale that deals with subjects you don’t often see broached in *any* medium.

If you’re on the fence, download the demo! It’ll let you try the first two chapters in their entirety for free.

Also be aware that the game gets into some *very* heavy, potentially distressing subject matters. We put out a content advisory before release – which you can find here: http://blog.mangagamer.org/2016/05/12/the-house-in-fata-morgana-content-advisory/ – because we want everyone to be able to engage with the story on their own terms.

rito: Definitely check out the demo — that’ll give you a good taste of the game’s juicy story, even if it’s just an appetizer for the feast that follows. To say nothing of the masterful artwork and music, if you enjoy stories filled with wholly human struggles, exploring the extreme highs and lows of humanity with no stone left unturned (and no loose ends left dangling) by the end, this is definitely the VN for you.

Everyone involved in this game poured their hearts and souls into it, and the end result is a game that I truly consider a masterpiece.

The House in Fata Morgana is available on Steam as of this writing for $24.99.

[doureallywannakno]

Room for dessert?

Here I am staring at my laptop for a good five minutes because I don’t know where to start. I thought it will be easier since everything happened yesterday but I can’t put my words together....

On my past blogs I tried my best not to be specific just cos I was scared that he will eventually read my blog. But tbh though he will never know about this unless i purposely share it on my other social media. 

It was early March when I’ve become aware that this fling is officially over. I was sad. But it didn’t hurt as much as it did when i got my heart broken with loves. I prepared myself for this rejection and I know I will be able to surpass it. Firstly, because all these months we’ve been going out my mind was thinking more than my heart. But most especially, I know my best friends will be there to remind me that this lost is not really a lost but a gain for me. 

It’s been almost three weeks when we kinda started talking again. Well on Snapchat. He became more available recently. In my head i was like “i’m right he will always just be there” but however even though he went back to normal, I didn’t. Mainly because this time around I wasn’t attached to him anymore. I’m at IDGAF vibe s/o to DUA LIPA gurllll u got me. lol. 

Last Sunday (April 15) He called to ask something about work. Then as soon as I hung up he texted me asking what time I’m off, I said 6:30 and I thought he asked so he could come by and maybe he needs my help to shop. But I was wrong. He said he wanted to hang out after work but I said I can’t because I have plans after. Which is true btw. Then I said “I’m free Monday and Tuesday I think” and he replied okay. It was Monday, even though the-typical-bianca would be normally waiting for him to ask me to go out again. I wasn’t. Lol because i’m too hangover from last night I just really wanna go home after work and sleep. However, later that day he asked me if I wanna do something after 11 pm.... At first I was like thats odd, he never asked me that late. but then i figured he was doing school stuff at school. And the-typical-crazy-bianca would have said YEAH SURE but nope like i said im too tired and im at the “idgaf” vibe lol so i told him i’m going to pass cos i’d rather stay home. then he replied with “i’ll just come over and chill there” and the-typical-crazy-bianca obviously said SURE hahahahahahah bye. As it gotten more late, I had a feeling he wouldn’t come anymore. cos i told him i’ll be sleeping and he should just knock and my brother will the door for him. Which i knew even before saying it that it could scare him off. But I was like, if this guy has good intentions for me he wouldn’t be scared of my brothers. It was almost 15 mins to 12 mn when I asked God, that hey if this guy is really for me he will come before midnight... he didn’t. 

Tuesday morning, he messaged me like nothing happened last night. he acted weird and tried to be normal. And for the third time around he asked me to hang out. Okay I was going to straight up say no to him but then he said “you said you’re free today..” and then I realized i really need to see him one last time just to assure myself that this is really not working out and also to get the watch my friend gave to me. so we met up, went to Mary Brown’s and i seriously thought he’s the one paying since he’s the one who asked to go out. but putangina niya. as we were looking at the menu, and i asked him what he’s getting he right after said “you’re paying right? mayaman ka naman” Dude!!!!! Thank you Lord I’M GOOD AT HIDING MY EMOTIONS COS I WANTED TO SCREAM AT HIM lol He was immediately an off for me. Yeah it could be a joke. but damn, i havent seen you in so long we havent been talking like how we used to and you asked me to go out expecting i’ll pay for you? What a jerk. The-typical-bianca will let that go. And i did i swear. The guy doesnt work. I’m very understanding as you can tell. However, as we were eating he mentioned that him and the girl he likes from months ago have been not okay these past weeks. Immediately, in my head FUCK this guy has been trying to talk to just cos he doesn’t have anyone. I knew right when he said those he was just using me for company. The-typical-bianca obviously have let that go and understood him. Cos hey i’ve been in that situation before.....

As he was parking to my house he asked “are your brothers home? is there anyone i should be scared of?” hahaha i was laughing internally knowing i was right he got scared last night. We went to my room, i brought spoons for the ice cream he bought before driving back to my place. Then as he was rewriting his notes and eating his mint chocolate ice cream... his phone rang. and i saw her name on the screen. he answered like a kid so happy to get his ice cream. i overheard him saying to her that he’s at home when obviously he was at my place. he also said to her to give him an hour and half so i guess they can play fortnite. As soon as I heard that, my heart broke.. I was deeply hurt. It reminded me so much when Gabs will always leaves me when he gets a call from someone. It brought me back to times I was used so badly for being nice. It slapped me one more time of how stupid i am. I know i will always be nice. but i just dont understand why people take advantage of me. how can these people be so insensitive. Just as he was packing he stuff to leave, i saw he took his watch that he gave me the first weeks we’ve been going out. and then i saw on his other hand he’s wearing my other watch.. thats when he said “babe i’ll take this watch now okay” and im like in my head tangina mo gago ka but i said “nope you’re not taking any of my watch :)” then he said “but this is the watch you don’t like” and i responded with “nope my watch is my watch they will stay here with me theyre not going anywhere” then he immediately took off the watch and said “i’m leaving babe” babe mo mukha mong gago ka. then i just said “gooood byeeeee :)”