#in my defense you people always talk about bizarre shit that happens there idk i guess i just accepted it as something normal for the show

[themthistles]

for years my mom talked about doctor spock's lessons on parenting she used to raise us and because i never watched star trek i just assumed that show doubled as educational material for parents when in fact spock she was referring to was a pediatrician and a writer and not the beloved character from the sci fi classic

[sapphire-weapon]

Do you have any alternate career ideas that you like for Leon? Like if he stopped being a cop as you said in your other ask or was magically released from the government. I'm not necessarily expecting a happy answer here but... (have you talked about this before? Weird deja vu suddenly...)

I kind of like the idea that he'd be good with dogs so I like to imagine him as a dog trainer. :)

I haven't talked about this, no, so idk man maybe I was still nerding out over Leon in a past life LMAO

Canonically, Leon has always been very technologically savvy, and there's just something about his personality in RE2make that just makes me feel like he was kind of an A/V nerd in school AND I DON'T KNOW WHY TBH.

Like, my brain is just like "there's no possible fucking way that Leon goddamn Kennedy -- ESPECIALLY Remake Leon -- made it all the way through college and never once worked tech or did camera work or editing on a student film. that's just not fucking possible." probably because i, myself, was a criminal justice major who did a lot of acting in college and i was not the only one and i know exactly the type of personality that doublefists those particular interests LMAO so many of the tech guys i knew were double majoring or at the very least minoring in political science or law or also criminal justice for some reason, it was so weird.

and now i'm for some reason imagining that one of the student films he helped shoot or edit was a porno and idk why. it just seems like the kind of bizarre circumstance he'd get himself into and doesn't know how because his life is just Like That

So, if there was no outbreak and Leon quit his job in the RPD, I could see him being a systems engineer with a secret dream of actually becoming a film editor but having absolutely no idea how to even start getting into something like that.

I also think it's possible that he'd consider going back to school and studying law with the intention of being a defense attorney -- because that's a way for him to actually help protect people in a way that doesn't feed the system.

Now, if Leon was to have never been kidnapped by the CIA but Raccoon City still happened, I think that'd be a little different -- because he doesn't come out of Raccoon City the same person he was going into it, so I don't see him leaning back on secondary interests he'd had in school.

Plus, he has a surprise daughter now LMAO

I imagine that he would've just taken Sherry back to his parents' house and tried to figure out a plan from there while he waited for word from Claire about Chris's whereabouts. (And, honestly, I think that's the reason why Leon insists that Claire goes off on her own to begin with?? He can get Sherry to somewhere safe -- he can take her to his parents -- and then, from there, he'd be able to focus on helping Claire fuck up Umbrella's shit.)

And in this particular scenario, I don't think Leon would be eager to jump right back onto the front lines. He's not ex-military like Chris and Jill, so he probably wouldn't see himself as a natural combatant. I can almost see him wanting to use the investigation skills he learned in police academy to pursue something like investigative journalism and help in the takedown of Umbrella that way.

Unless, of course, Chris put a hand on his shoulder, looked him dead in the eyes, and said in a firm but sincere voice, "We could really use a man like you out there."

Then, Leon's heart would melt and his "I'm a good boy 🥺" sense would activate, and he'd be joining up with the BSAA two days later.

And if he were to be released from his deal with the government at some point after his training was already finished, he would probably just up and join the BSAA on his own -- because, at least there, he'd be with friends and have a support system and wouldn't be chained by the neck to a government he didn't trust in order to do work he didn't always necessarily agree with.

[forcebookish]

reading your topmew takes makes me feel hopeful that not all people in this fandom are so... (idk how to put it kindly lol) focused on hating/bashing top as a character and/or topmew as a couple (if i have to see one more 'i skip their scenes/they don't have chemistry' post, i'll start blocking people haha). anyway, i love your blog and how much you love forcebook, i hope you have a great day! 💕💕

aaaa, thank you for loving my blog! and forcebook!! 🧡💙

you don't have to put it kindly, anon, i know i don't! and i'm not even anonymous lol fuck 'em. i strongly recommend you block those people, obviously they have no taste and their opinions are worthless💅

luckily, as loud as those idiots are, there are more of us than it seems! especially based on how many asks like this i get🥰 of course they could be the same three people haha, BUT i get a... not totally discouraging amount of notes on my topmew posts and i see more love than hate (but, again, i block a lot of blogs lol). despite tumblr suppressing the post, my topmew fic is still getting attention!

however, it is weird that i've seen so many people who don't necessarily hate topmew, but speak very... defensively about them if they have anything positive to say. "i don't care, i love them," "i fell for them," "sorry, they're actually cute," etc. i saw this shit about guncher too; i do not get BL fandom at all. wow, you like the lead couple in a BL drama. the lead couple you're... supposed to like and root for......

i'm just repeating myself but, ARE YOU NOT WATCHING BL??!??? IS THIS NOT WHY YOU ARE HERE???

equally bizarre, i've seen a couple people say shit like, "don't cancel me but [positive thing about top]." like? you're going to get "canceled" for liking/defending the character who hasn't sexually assaulted someone, secretly recorded someone having sex, drove under the influence, or destroyed his own phone to steal a sex tape? because he *checks notes* is kind of smug/mean (yeah wow no other characters in this drama are like that🙄) and was tricked/coerced into sleeping with someone other than his boyfriend? everyone else gets to do whatever the hell they want no matter who they hurt or endanger, while top is being sexually harassed, assaulted, tricked into sex, beaten, and bullied? lol this fandom is so backwards. i'm not bashing anyone (ok i'm always bashing boston lmao), but top is so far the only one of the boys who hasn't done something COMPLETELY INSANE. he's actually a normie compared to everyone else lol if they just said that was why they don't like him, i'd shut up. i mean, ok i wouldn't, but i'd at least understand/respect it. instead they keep making stuff up or twisting scenes for their own convenience.

i have yet to see anyone who doesn't like topmew have a good reason - and i'm not talking about personal taste, these are complete misreadings of what is happening on screen. it's not even a matter of opinion, they're literally just wrong lol

and how can you not love forcebook? come on.

unrelatable *flips hair*

anyway, thanks for giving me the opportunity to rant! i hope you have a great day too, anon!💞💞

[bittercoldbrew]

PLEASE tell me about the alien plant girls im so gay for anthropomorphic fem plants

omg thank you SO MUCH for asking and i apologize in advance for the infodump because i have been thinking about these alien plant people for literal years now, i love them so much. I first started thinking about these guys a little after TFA, because of an oc i was working on for a lil star wars fic that i have mostly abandoned by now--so sorry to the like 3 people who were reading my sidon ithano fic but tlj/tros really killed whatever passion i had for the franchise for a good long time :/ but Mando is great so i've been thinking about them'st again...

anyway i am sticking this under a cut because a) im very attached to these characters and if someone steals my shit i will kermit and b) sweet jesus this got so long, i am so sorry

in the SW universe at least, these plant people (that i still for the life of me cannot settle on an actual name for) were the primary inhabitants of a dwarf planet way out in wild space; they had a pretty symbiotic relationship with a race of sentient insectoid people (basically human-sized bees) who could travel between the planet and their home on one of its three moons (affectionately called the Honey Moon). what the plants didn’t know was that the bees were also able to travel to different planets, and had been doing so for a couple centuries before everything went to shit--but we’ll get to that in a bit.

the plant people weren’t particularly interested in the galaxy around them--they had a decent understanding of astronomy and cosmology, but little cultural interest in journeying to the stars. since the planet was pretty small and distant from the galactic core, it was pretty rare that a visiting ship would even pass them by, and scanners didn’t register them as genuine life-forms separate from the natural flora, so even if someone happened to end up out there it’s not the sort of place anyone would really choose to land. on rare occasions, a pirate or smuggler would try to hide out on what they thought to be an unoccupied planet, and would return to the Outer Rim with tales of mobile, sentient trees and bizarre, organic cities found on some uncharted world; likewise, occasionally a plant person would turn up at the local bar with tales of crashed space-ships and strange aliens that seemed almost like people. neither would ever be taken seriously.

the plants aren’t a particularly verbal people. they understand spoken language (a somewhat-modified Basic, at least, which is what the bees speak hmm i wonder where they picked that up from) and many can talk, but most don’t really bother learning to do so. mostly they rely on an ESP-like combo of pheromones and body language, highly attuned to the point that it’s essentially a kind of telepathy. i think i mentioned in the tags on that post that my character Antheia is sorta kinda a jedi? for these people, force sensitivity tends to manifest as an extra-extra-sensory-perception that causes you to be hyperaware of every living thing in your environment, not just the other sentient ones.

this made her uhhh extremely off-putting as a youth, easily distractable and often disinterested in the other people in the small community she grew up in, where she was already pretty disliked to begin with. there’s quite a lot of diversity among the plant people (a wide variety of skin tones/textures and body types, though few if any secondary sex characteristics; four limbs are most common, though occasionally some have two or more sets of arms; different types of leaves/vines/blossoms/etc in lieu of hair), and though they have a barter-based economy there’s still a lot of classism that’s mostly based around lineage (and thus evinced by one’s appearance and the traits one manifests). to protect (or attempt to bolster) those lineages, prospective parents can apply for a spot in a nursery, where their offspring are propagated and tended--mostly just through infancy before going to live with parents, though sometimes longer, and the very high class have private nurseries that will do all the rearing so they don’t have to.

But, on very rare occasions, certain wild plants will spontaneously develop sentience, and even more rarely will survive on their own long enough to find their way to a community. Hundreds of years ago (or “before the bees could speak”, which is their version of “once upon a time”), these spontaneous growths were revered and cherished, and whoever was first to encounter one would see it as a great honor to be responsible for their care and upbringing. now, with a much more striated society, these “weeds” (derogatory) are considered inferior, feral, dangerous. fortunately for Antheia, the man who found her, tangled in marsh reeds under the light of the Honey Moon, didn’t buy into any of that bullshit. he was a really sweet dad, very attentive and doting on his increasingly-strange adopted daughter; they were very close. but the older she got, the more her unusual ability developed, and the more he realized he was well out of his depth to help her understand that part of herself. eventually, she’s sent away to a kind of temple/convent for other people like her, where she’s trained to hone and control her extra senses, rather than be overwhelmed by them.

many years later, the sudden appearance of several large starships in their atmosphere turns their society on its head. it turns out, the bee-people have been traveling to other planets, forging alliances, brokering deals; they claim they just want to facilitate inter-planetary trade. Antheia is among the first to mistrust these invading aliens and their fleet of well-armed droids who seem hell-bent on mining their planet (which is, apparently, rich with cortosis, which--thank you wookiepedia--is apparently capable of repelling lightsabers and blasterfire alike). She flees her convent, joins up with an underground network of resistance fighters, discovers that her hyperawareness makes her a truly formidable force on the battlefield, and helps lead her people in defending the sovereignty of their home. And then things take a turn for the worse...but we don’t need to get into that right now.

ANYWAY.

my other oc, Shoal, is from the same planet but not even remotely star-warsy; either from a different time period well before the droid incursion, or just like an AU of my own stuff, idk. but she’s great, i love her deeply even though i dont really know what i even want to do with her yet. i mostly just was thinking about what a normal, average person in this world would be like, but then i got too attached. she’s also one of the spontaneous “weeds”, a semi-aquatic plant girl that washed up on a sandbar that occasionally connects a small island with the mainland when the tide is out. she was sort of “found” by multiple people at the same time, since they were making their way across to go trade goods at the mainland market, so to avoid the confusion of who should be responsible for her, she’s just sort of raised by the village as a whole. they name her Shoal, since that’s where they found her (it started as a joke, but then no one could agree on anything else to call her so it just sort of...stuck).

she grows up without realizing that it’s a pretty unusual upbringing. as a teen, she gains the reputation for the island’s best fisher (it helps that she can breathe as well underwater as above, and she’s always been a good swimmer). one thing that’s pretty consistent among all the plant people are their teeth--they all have long, sharp incisors and canines because sexy and also as more of a defense mechanism than a dietary one. they don’t eat much, typically absorbing nutrients from the sun/water/air/soil (mud baths are such a beloved experience, like for the most part they are very dignified people but find them some good mud and they will wallow for days) but when they do it’s pretty meat-heavy. they don’t really enjoy the process of eating very much, especially because they don’t have much gut bacteria so they typically have to swallow some stones to break up their food and nobody wants to do all that. but, at least in the coastal towns near where Shoal grew up, fresh-caught fish is considered a delicacy, and they can trade for quite a lot in return.

as she gets older, though, she starts getting restless. she loves her village, but it’s all she’s ever really known. also, it is so hard to even consider dating when literally everyone your age is practically your sibling, i mean, yeesh. so one day she just packs her bags and says her goodbyes and waits for low tide, then sets off to find her own way in the great wide world. she stops wherever she can, sees everything she can, but eventually settles down working at a tavern in a medium-sized town that’s mostly acclaimed for being a crossroads between bigger and better places. she likes it there, likes getting to know lots of new people and hearing about someone else’s travels more than she actually liked traveling herself. after a few years, the tavern-keeper retires and decides to leave the place to her, and she finds she’s become a permanent fixture in this new community. that’s really all i have for her so far, and i have no idea whether i’ll ever actually do anything with this character lol, but still she is very precious to me so i hope i find a story she’d be a good match for sometime soon.

[marewriteblr]

Traits And Quirks For Characters In Fantasy (list)

idk if I’m the only one, but when creating characters for my wips, I like to google lists of traits and quirks to give a bit more depth to them. and since I mostly write fantasy, I thought my characters deserved some more fantasy-related traits and quirks, so here’s a list of 150+ traits and quirks for characters in a fantasy setting!! hope it helps some of you too

has tattoos that keep changing

bad vision—takes magical potion to see clearly

addicted to magical food or drink

weird things happen when they laugh, sneeze, cough…

sees things that aren‘t there—or are they?

speaks in rhymes

has a wandering scar

has a wound that never stops bleeding

shows symptoms of a curse but pretends to not know how they got it

physical signs when lying, eg hair growing unnaturally fast

can summon any mythical creature easily

has a mythical creature for a pet

brings a slight breeze with them whenever they enter a room

was dead once

refuses to eat certain type of food for no specific reason as though it were amoral or inethical

obsession with a particular period in history

obsession with a magical creature/species

doesn‘t dance or make music because weird things happen

haunted by a ghost, their best companion

always has a candle lit (eg for their ghost companion)

can speak a mystery language only very few people understand

can turn the light of single stars on and off as they please

used to be part of a secret society

wears shoes with wings, no one knows if they actually work

can predict the future correctly for a ridiculous/bizarre reason

lives at court, no one knows why or where they came from but they let them stay

can only talk in questions or riddles

always seen reading spell books though they can‘t do magic

always seen reading books though they can‘t read. bonus if the reason for this is magical

tells everyone about the time they did something they‘ve certainly never done

tells everyone they used to be a dragon, is obviously lying

is actually blind, no one has noticed

never speaks, only talks to people telepathically, they’re used to it by now

has blood of unnatural colour, tells the weirdest stories of why that is—story changes every time

sacrificed 7 years of their life to magical creature who might claim them any minute

sacrificed a body part, determined to get it back

sacrificed their good looks

always learning spells by heart and seen using them the next day as though they’d prepared it for the occasion

has a secret identity, eg can do a certain type of magic and sneaks out to commit crimes/perform on stage/meet their companions…

keeps getting into trouble because people are convinced they have magic, but they don’t

belongs to a human/non-magical species but was kidnapped years ago and never went back

is actually a ghost

is immortal but doesn‘t know anything about history—can tell you all about the migration of dwarf antelopes on their continent throughout the centuries though

always corrects people on history/mythology facts with things they can‘t possibly know if they weren‘t there themselves

allergic to magic. bonus if they‘re a powerful wizard or deity

obsessed with knives and swords. you can fight them but they‘re more interested in the crafting of your blade

allergic to a certain spell and only that spell for no apparent reason

always has a certain item or food in their pocket in case they need to bribe a magical creature today

miscorrects others‘ pronunciation of spells and pronounces them wrong themselves (eg emphasis on wrong syllable)

talks in a fake elf accent to piss off elves

pretends to be a species they clearly aren’t judging by their appearance, and gets defensive when told so, calling people racist

gets themselves into trouble by trying to seduce nymphs when drunk. also an alcoholic

is cursed to never remember any names—has forgotten their real name a long time ago so no one can ever have that power over them

introduces themselves with a different name every time they meet someone

heavily worships an evil trickster god

ominously refers to themselves in third person

doesn‘t walk but jumps from roof to roof instead

predicts the future but is always horribly wrong

challenges people to a quest all the time

seems to know every person in the entire kingdom

seems to be enemies with every person in the entire kingdom

spends a lot of time in dimly-lit taverns seeking opponents for a strange board game

likes to look for bizarre monsters deep in the forest

talks to their dagger

talks too much during sword fights

gets involved in sword fights but only ever carries a paper sword with them

makes up crazy and hardly believable stories when asked about their past to hide their guilt

collects a particular type of item that can only be found on adventurous quests to dangerous places

has large horns on their head despite their species having no such thing, refuses to tell anyone why

never seen eating

never seen sleeping

takes every time anyone mentions something being hard or dangerous to do as a challenge to try it

wears an eyepatch solely for the looks of it

collects dangerous enchanted jewellery

random hissing

an excellent storyteller, like unnaturally excellent

politically involved and fights for giants‘ rights

has a finger that‘s mysteriously shorter than the others

is best friends with a demon

is nocturnal but loves sunlight

pretends to be completely resistant to pain

always sneaking around

has a tattoo that keeps dis- and reappearing

enchants people with their acting

has a wooden prosthesis

doesn‘t wear shoes

changes eye colour every day

wears gloves all the time and tells people it‘s for their safety

hears the trees talk to them

believes the apocalypse is near

pretends to be immortal

breaks into people‘s homes to steal food. no jewellery. only food

pins pressed flowers to their walls

believes that flowers grant wishes

has random visions of other people‘s pasts that aren‘t necessarily true but always get them into trouble

strongly believes in reincarnation

talks in a different accent every day

is convinced they are cursed

sees every minor conflict as a challenge to a sword fight

fights their battles using nothing but darts

is an archer and also blind or missing an arm

accidentally stabs themselves. a lot.

always carrying poison around „just in case“

is at fault for the fall of a mighty god

knows all about mythology

always up to date regarding drama and gossip between the gods

immediately scared they’re about to be cursed whenever someone raises their voice

still mourns over the death of a friend

whatever they touch breaks instantly

chews on their wand (definitely not a good idea)

always wears their hair tied up into a bun, is longer than rapunzel‘s when worn loose

brags they were good at picking locks but actually just hit it really hard until it breaks

accidental shapeshifting

still waiting for an ominous prophecy to foretell their destiny

makes weird/seemingly unnecessary bargains with strangers

has something slightly off about their appearance that makes people stop in their tracks to watch them

unhealthy obsession with cloaks

is a great fan of wizards. collects wands and hats like action figures

horses don‘t like them, they ride a wolf instead

sings the spells they use

constantly mumbling to themselves or someone others can‘t see

can duplicate themselves but can‘t do math so they‘re always a bit confused

has a leaf sticking to the back of their hand. don‘t ask them why

is a painter, travels very far to obtain a particular kind of paint

sketches their dreams in a book after they come to them at night

always seems to be charged with electricity

freckles on their cheeks dance when laughing or when light hits them

makes up prophecies and tells strangers about them

grows wings when high up due to fear of falling

gets arrested regularly for pranking nature spirits and deities

sneezes when using magic

insomniac, needs a particular spell or magical food/herb to fall asleep

magic makes them fall asleep (when they use it or when others use it nearby)

mixes the weirdest potions all day

can‘t eat spicy food, literally breathes fire

necromancy but only to revive their dead cat

turns the same colour of any food they eat

dreams of becoming a knight

horrible short term memory but can easily recite anything they read two centuries ago

makes their eye colour look white just to mess with people

can‘t remember spells for shit. says them incorrectly which always goes horribly wrong

terrible handwriting. bonus if they’re a messenger who has to send important letters on a daily, causing things to go very wrong

can correctly guess anyone‘s magical power on a scale from 1-10. is stupid enough to point it out aloud, too

wears cloaks that are way too long

carries a fake sword on their hip

carries way more weapons on them than necessary

uses their dagger as a toothpick

plays with dagger when thinking

supernaturally heavy sleeper

gets the different species mixed up a lot

tells everyone how many people they‘ve killed in their life

a die hard fan of a well-known assassin

a die hard fan of shakespeare‘s puck

desperately wants to be abducted by the fae

heavily affected by the phase of the moon

[its-love-u-asshole]

Twelve Hours [Ch. 3]

Pairings: Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei

Summary: Kuroo Tetsurou has dealt with a lot since he was eighteen, each year bringing the same depressing challenges on the same depressing night. He expects this time to be no different, but the universe is trying desperately to prove him wrong in the most bizarre ways imaginable. So screw it, Kuroo’s only choice is to buckle in and hope he doesn’t die. Easy enough. And hey, with some new allies at his side, maybe he has a chance. Who knows? At least Kuroo is sure of one thing in life when it comes to March 15th, and he stands by this unwritten law, no matter what happens:

If you try to kill pizza delivery boys on Purge Night, you’re irrevocably a bitch.

Rating: T

Tags: Purge AU, mentions of violence but nothing graphic or too bad, no character deaths here okay, this is borderline crack and idk what I was thinking, first meetings, other characters, shenanigans and just…a lot of fun (it seems angsty but its not)

Note: Woohoo I remembered to post this today lol. I’m excited for this chapter and the next because the plot is really starting to pick up, so I hope you all enjoy! Thanks to @emeraldwaves for reading this over!

AO3

The first thing Kuroo noticed about Tsukishima's home was the sheer number of books he had. The walls were lined with towering shelves, volumes upon volumes staring Kuroo down. Some were flimsy with unreadable spines, while others sparkled with an untouched gleam. He wondered how many of these the blond had actually read, or if maybe he could borrow a few sometime.

However, the books were pretty much the only personalized aspect of the home. No pictures on the walls, no posters, nothing but frames with generic stock photos of fancy cars placed in them. It didn't fit Tsukishima's vibe at all, and Kuroo squinted at the unfitting splashes of color as he peered around the home. He was satisfied to find a disorganized and impressive collection of DVDs though. Guess he's not a robot...

Not that Kuroo expected that.

"Your curiosity is burning holes in the wall," Tsukishima's voice floated from the kitchen, and Kuroo was greeted with a sight much too casual for such a grim day. Tsukishima sat atop the counter, despite the barstools nearby, munching on his second piece of pizza.

Kuroo laughed, sheepish at the thought of being watched. Where were his manners? His mother had raised him better...

"Sorry, but, I kinda don't get it," Kuroo said, gesturing to the second floor. By his count, the home had at least three bedrooms, probably spacious too. Hell, the living room was the size of his apartment. The kitchen shined from a fresh polishing, adorned with granite countertops and all the latest kitchen appliances.

It was a family's dream home. Anyone's dream home. So...

"You don't get why I'm here alone," Tsukishima stated, picking at a piece of burnt crust with his finely trimmed nails. Kuroo winced. There went any hopes for manners...

But they were kind of breaking a lot of rules already. Why not cut the crap?

"Uh, is the rest of your family...hiding?" Kuroo asked. And if so, why weren't you?

"I live here by myself, no one's hiding, no one's out of town. It's just me." Tsukishima took a bite of his pizza, staring resolutely at the dark wood floor.

Kuroo wondered if he should change the topic. It wasn't his business to pry, and if Tsukishima wasn't going to willingly offer up more information then--

"My parents and brother used to live here, but they moved away when the Purge started," Tsukishima said, shrugging. Noting Kuroo’s intense stare, Tsukishima squinted, debating on how many personal facts to give away. In the end, he must’ve decided he didn’t care. "I think mom and dad still live in Japan, but my brother and I don't talk to them anymore. Things...went sour."

Oh.

Kuroo didn't have anything to say to that, for fear that he'd end up word vomiting questions at the blond. He'd always been a bit of a gossip, unable to resist knowing every little thing he could. This felt calmer somehow, less urgent. His curiosity was still present, but he figured Tsukishima would give him the answers on his own.

Kuroo could play it cool, one small question at a time.

"It's a beautiful house," Kuroo told him, chuckling at the way Tsukishima frowned to himself. Or maybe not. Homes were only as good as the memories made in them. "What about your brother?"

Caught off guard by the mundane question, Tsukishima sat up, finally blessing Kuroo with a glimpse of those bewitching eyes. Much better.

Hopefully Kuroo hadn't stepped on a landmine.

"...Europe," Tsukishima answered after a beat of silence, his shoulders relaxing. Kuroo took the opportunity to cross the gap, taking a seat in one of the barstools next to where Tsukishima perched. "There's a good hospital there he likes, and his wife is there. Since he's in a wheelchair now, he needs all the peace he can get."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Kuroo said, biting his tongue.

"Don't be," Tsukishima said, his smile soft, directed in the distance. "He's happy there. No more Purge, no more problems."

"Ah, I love that song!" Kuroo exclaimed, helping himself to pizza. After all, he'd risked his life to deliver it. He was entitled to a slice.

Plus, it helped to keep his mouth shut. Tsukishima rolled his eyes, but the smile didn't fade, and they ate in comfortable silence.

Kuroo kept looking around the house, his enthusiasm falling from seeing the bare walls, the lack of possessions. If Tsukishima's family no longer lived here, the rooms must've been empty too...

The poetic, nerdy side of him wanted to make some metaphor to the Purge, but he didn't have it in him. When the night was over, maybe he'd come back and help Tsukishima paint a wall or two.

Also to nag him, because wow.

"I don't care what you say, living in this huge house all alone makes you the biggest target," Kuroo said, gesturing wildly to the large space. Tsukishima's rottweilers raised their heads at the sound, before deciding they didn't care enough to rise from their beds. "How are you not dead yet?"

"I told you, I'm prepared." Tsukishima waved his hand at nothing in particular, not at all quelling Kuroo's anxiety. "Not just the dogs, or the metal detector. There's cameras, there's weapons...and other things I’m not going to disclose to a stranger. Relax. Besides, it's a wasteland out here, nothing has happened since year one."

Huh, that was interesting. But Kuroo supposed rich people would try anything once.

"Oh? What makes you think it won't happen again," Kuroo said, chewing on his second slice. He glanced around the home suspiciously, wondering where Tsukishima hid the weapons. Surely, there must be some downstairs in the event of an attack.

Tsukishima went quiet, and the silence settled in the air like lead, weighing it down. Kuroo turned back to see the blond staring at him impassively, but with eyes that screamed a thousand words. "Because the perpetrators are gone. I told you, my parents moved away, didn't I?"

It made Kuroo nearly choke from swallowing too fast, the chill of the words shocking him into newfound sorrow.

Guess avoiding landmines wasn't his forte in the end.

"I'm, I didn't mean--"

"I know, I don't mind," Tsukishima said, carrying on like nothing was wrong. Worrisome. But Kuroo knew better than to trust Tsukishima’s facade, because that was a play straight out of his own book. "It happened a long time ago. We're safe now."

Kuroo didn't know if he was referring to themselves or Tsukishima and his brother, but either way, he accepted it.

And anyways, it wasn't his turn to ask a question now.

"No offense, but I never expected you to be delivering pizzas on Purge night," Tsukishima said a minute later, not sorry at all. "You were top of the class. At the start, anyways. I expected you to be a lawyer or an accountant. Although, your hair kinda ruins the image."

Oh, so you've got jokes now.

Kuroo poked Tsukishima's thigh enough to make him jump. Little shit. "Hey, this hair is a winner. And I've got time. I'm trying to make a little extra money is all."

He didn't go into his crippling doubts and unrealized dreams, or the fact that the year in question was the last time he'd been top of the class ever, but the blond didn’t have to know that.

"You must be desperate then," Tsukishima said with a smug smile, though it was ruined by the red stain of pizza sauce. It was less desperation and more...something Kuroo wouldn't think about, mostly because he wasn't 100% sure.

"Says the one who would try to fend off an attack by themselves," Kuroo shot back. "Well, and with the boys over there."

The rottweilers 'boofed' at the attention, but otherwise, they stayed put. At least they'd probably defend their master to the end.

"You don't know anything about how I purge." Tsukishima hopped off the counter, disposing of his trash in one of the bins. Kuroo followed suit, but didn't take his eyes off the blond. The subject was...a dicey one, but...

"You purge?"

Just the inquiry itself made Kuroo sick. He wanted to like Tsukishima, already did, but...Kuroo hated the Purge, hated anyone who thought it was okay. It brought nothing but strife and death, and he didn't care if people were working out excess energy or desires, they were part of the issue. Kuroo never purged willingly unless it was self-defense.

He watched Tsukishima as he walked over to one of the shitty car paintings, his nose scrunching up at the gaudy orange color. Yeah, same.

"Once, only once," Tsukishima said after an eternity. His voice was barely audible despite the emptiness of the home, but Kuroo was determined to hear every word. "I don't...I didn't want to. I wouldn't do it again."

Tsukishima turned away, facing the wall, but Kuroo could hear the guilt, saw how his shoulders tensed up. The relief was back, along with the new need to comfort the blond in any way, shape, or form.

"The first year?" Kuroo asked, assuming. After all...if that was when his parents...yeah.

Tsukishima shook his head. "Year two."

And well, Kuroo could tell the conversation was over after that.

--

They ended up watching Jeopardy reruns, and for the first time in a while, Kuroo felt smart.

"I don't understand how you possibly know this much about chemistry and math formulas," Tsukishima said, digging a spoon into a tub of ice cream. Kuroo noticed the other hadn't stopped eating the whole time he'd been there. Maybe it was a nervous tick...a Purge ritual, in his own way.

But yeah, Kuroo was kicking ass.

"Guess my brain remembers more than I thought," he said triumphantly. "You smashed the romantic literature category too, so I had to fight back."

Now all the books made so much sense...

"Also," Kuroo began, eyeing Tsukishima with fake suspicion. "Should I be concerned about how well you answered the 'you call that a knife' category?"

And he at last managed to get a full, genuine laugh out of Tsukishima. Much better than the gunshots and explosions outside.

"I told you, I'm prepared," Tsukishima said with a hum, scooping at the last bite of cookie dough ice cream. Kuroo followed the way his lips pressed against the spoon, suddenly craving the sweetness himself.

A few seconds passed however, and Tsukishima's neutral frown had returned, bleak as ever. It didn't matter what they did, Kuroo could tell the guilt from earlier had remained in Tsukishima's mind, as well as the reminder that it was the worst night of the year. Kuroo may not have known anything about Tsukishima’s own experience with it, but he wanted to help.

Even if it meant bringing up things he wanted to forget.

Ironically enough, the new category on screen was 'live long.'

Ha. He could dream.

"You know, it's okay if you've hurt people," Kuroo said. "I think we all have. Don't get me wrong, I hate the Purge, but sometimes you can't avoid it."

He let the words sit in the air, hoping they didn't anger Tsukishima. Kuroo wasn't trying to baby him or anything, it was how he truly felt about the situation. It pissed him off, but it wasn't totally useless advice.

This might've been too much for two strangers. We're not exactly strangers though, right?

Kuroo didn't want to be.

A few seconds later, he heard Tsukishima exhale, as if he hadn't breathed in hours. "I know. I don't regret what I did. More that I had to do it at all."

Yeah, if that wasn't a mood. Kuroo could've done so much more with his life if he'd just been free of this stupid holiday. It forced him into corners and boxes, ones he'd rather not inhabit. He understood. Regardless, he couldn't shake the intensity of Tsukishima's secret, if it could be called that...

So, he did what he did best. He asked.

"What did you do? If you don't mind me asking," Kuroo said, voice dropping to a whisper. Oof, alright, coulda done that better. It made him sound like he would cut and run at any moment.

Sensing their master's tension, Tsukishima's dogs hopped onto the couch, nuzzling them both. Kuroo needed to look into a therapy dog himself. Tsukishima smiled as he massaged one of the dogs’ heads, mulling over his answer while Kuroo tried to remember how to breathe.

"Nothing like murder, sorry to disappoint you," Tsukishima revealed. Disappoint? That's the biggest relief in the world. The air blew out of him, and Tsukishima snorted, but fuck it, Kuroo didn't have time to be embarrassed.

"I robbed someone. Someones. And it was a lot of money," Tsukishima said. "My brother needed surgery, I needed a way to get away from mom and dad. Back then, it made sense. Now I'm not sure, but it's done."

It was like he’d read it from a book or something, emotion detached, but Kuroo figured that was another form of coping. Tsukishima glared at the television, burying his face in the nearest pillow. He huddled in on himself, the sign of reservation and hesitance. Not used to sharing then huh...

Kuroo guessed he was the same. No one really talked about the Purge. The last time he'd brought it up had been.... he couldn't remember.

Wow.

Sighing to himself, Kuroo smiled, because there didn't seem to be a proper expression for such a feeling. But Tsukishima, who didn't give off the most open of vibes, had opened up to him. So, he was happy. As happy as he could be.

"Thank you," Kuroo said, smile growing at the sudden shock on Tsukishima's face. The blond turned so fast it had probably hurt his neck. "For telling me I mean! I don't think you should feel bad though, at least you did it for the right reasons. That's more than most can say."

Seriously...

Not that most others would care. Kuroo allowed himself to indulge in the small fantasy he'd created in Tsukishima's home though. That it was a normal, quiet night, and they were just hanging out. The weight of his weapons blurred the illusion a bit, but it would have to do.

Tsukishima stared at him, eyes glimmering, until he slowly nodded and turned away.

Kuroo watched the reflection of the bright blue Jeopardy screen bounce off the contours of Tsukishima's face as he sat, the cogs in his mind clearly working.

Tsukishima never seemed to stop thinking. Kuroo knew firsthand how it was as much a curse as a blessing.

But eventually, Tsukishima must've reached a conclusion. And oh, what a conclusion it was.

"You're kind of a disaster," the blond said a moment later, and Kuroo laughed so loud it concerned him. If a murderer had been in the house, they'd have been found in no time.

Well then. Here I was, trying to be nice....

"Oh? Never heard it said that easily before," Kuroo said, in between breathless gasps. "I was only trying to help."

"I wasn't finished," Tsukishima said, but his smirk told Kuroo the pause had been deliberate. Bringing his legs down from his chest, Tsukishima turned towards Kuroo, inviting, and Kuroo mirrored him. "You're a disaster, but..."

Kuroo arched a brow, intrigued by the light blush on Tsukishima's face that the television's glow couldn't hide.

Tsukishima sighed. "I guess, I wish I had talked to you sooner."

It took a moment for Kuroo to understand, but when he did, he felt the guilt creep up again. This time he wouldn't forget Tsukishima.

Yeah, me too.

And with any luck, he'd leave a good impression.

Smiling at each other, the moment seemed too perfect. Like some missing piece, Kuroo had at last reconnected with someone he didn't know he'd lost track of. It stumped him, but he felt like pieces remained missing, like he'd overlooked some things. They both had.

They could figure it out another time. For now, Kuroo wanted to sit in this moment, and pretend he didn't ever have to leave.

But, such was wishful thinking.

A crash rattled the whole house, breaking the moment like glass, and the alarms in his head began to sound like war sirens. Tsukishima reacted instantly, no time for shock. They were off the couch just like that, and Tsukishima's dogs were peeling off in the direction of the crash.

It didn't take much organization after that. There was no time for any other thought except survival. He exchanged a look with Tsukishima, and the blond nodded, wasting no time in pulling up the floorboards below them.

Oh, so that's where he hid them. Clever.

He'd admire later.

He took the machete handed to him, his mind racing with escape routes and strategies. He wondered what the best course of action was, if people could be waiting outside, how fast they could get to his car, everything.

Tsukishima's choice of weapon managed to break him out of his Terminator Mode™ because what the fuck is that?

"Is that a fucking flamethrower? That's not an authorized weapon," Kuroo sputtered, earning him a scathing glare as Tsukishima picked up the heavy artillery with ease.

Tsukishima paused, giving Kuroo a look that was equal parts hot and infuriating. "What are you a boy scout now? If I'm trying not to die, I'm going to use whatever the fuck I want."

"That violates so many laws."

"This whole night violates laws, like my right to living," Tsukishima said, standing up and marching in the direction of the crash, no signs of escaping. And uh....yeah, Kuroo couldn't argue with that. He followed Tsukishima, watching his back, and despite the tension he could hear the blond's irritated mumbling.

"The first night in over four years...coming into my damn house...it's the shittiest house on the block..."

If Kuroo had not been in full battle mode, he might've found it cute, but they had more pressing matters.

Like the huge hole where one of Tsukishima's bay windows used to be.

"Oh shit," Kuroo said, his footsteps slowing as they entered the room. He moved to face the hallway, in the event someone had already snuck in, which was more than likely considering the new entrance. The window, which had taken up a good half of the wall, had been obliterated, leaving chunks of glass littered around the hardwood, and on the grass outside. From where they stood, Kuroo could see the rest of the cul-de-sac, leaving them completely exposed. Fuck.

Okay, so he took back what he’d said about the flamethrower.

"That was bullet proof glass...how," Tsukishima mumbled, eyeing the shards on the floor with disbelief. It was then they both noticed the tire marks leading into the home, the black streaks staining the floor.

Not car proof though.

The fact someone was crazy enough to ram the side of the house with a car made Kuroo all the more worried. They were committed. Kuroo didn't dare walk outside to see if a car was there though, he wasn't that stupid.

The room had been barren aside from some dusty boxes, the remnants of what used to be a formal family dining room.

As if reading Kuroo's mind, Tsukishima huffed humorlessly. "At least this room's not important."

"We should get to my car," Kuroo whispered, and Tsukishima thankfully agreed. As equipped as they were, a fight wasn't preferred. Regardless of if no one had gotten inside, now anyone could. There were nine hours left in the Purge, and Kuroo didn't want to tempt fate.

"Let's go," Tsukishima said, forgoing any shoes as the reality of their situation set in.

If only they'd left right away.

"Wait," Tsukishima said, eyes darting down the hallway. "Where are my dogs?"

They both froze, listening for any barks or the patter of paws on wood. Nothing. In fact, with horror, they both realized they hadn’t heard anything in several minutes.

Silence meant death on a night like tonight.

Oh no.

"Don't worry," a voice said, coming from the direction of the garage just around the corner. And in that brief second, Kuroo knew they'd lost. He caught Tsukishima’s frustrated expression as the blond closed his eyes, cursing their foolishness.

"I took care of them for you," the voice continued, and Tsukishima stepped in front of Kuroo with trembling shoulders. Not from fear, but pure, limitless anger.

He may have hated this house, but goddammit, it was still his house. The notion became crystal clear to Kuroo, given how Tsukishima was prepared to take the first shot.

The garage door opened, and they both tightened their holds on the weapons. They were exposed from three angles now. The garage, the front of the house, and the side. Kuroo only hoped no one had snuck into the living room. The garage, and his car along with it, were now non-options. It would take a miracle now, or in less naive terms, it would probably take Tsukishima's damn flamethrower.

Kuroo definitely took back what he said earlier.

Either way, his chances of making it out alive now were slim, but hey? The night hadn't been as awful as he would've thought.

If anything, Kuroo was glad Tsukishima didn't have to face this alone, that he'd decided to stay.

He needed more time to come to terms with the rest of his regrets, but he wasn't given that luxury, because the next thing he knew, a group of masked men flooded the hallway, guns armed and ready.

[obscurum-passagium]

The Hidden Staircase

I wrote something kinda quick and messy about the trope of hidden staircases/mysterious buildings in Nancy Drew games/mystery novels of this flavor

As someone who’s studied everything from castles to Georgian manor houses, I’m starting to think you can’t have some of the sleuthy mystery genre without these old grand houses. And nor can you have them without a precise moment in time, or a precise culture that creates a class division, or a new class structure, in which these houses can be misunderstood.

What I’m talking about here are hidden staircases. Old houses—be they Victorians or castles—slowly revealing their more sinister sides alongside the developing mystery. A small hidden antechamber, a panel in the sitting room slides open to reveal a small staircase, a trap door in a turret drops into a hidden room no one knew was there… or did they? Is it a mysterious contraption rigged by the previous owner to hide dark secrets, or is this tiny staircase leading to a creepy little attic room just a servant’s staircase to the maids’ quarters?

The first World War forever changed the structure of class in England which is… far too complex a thing to explain in something about locations in Nancy Drew games. But you have a highly structured society of upper, middle, lower/working classes pre-WW1, and a huge dissolving of this afterwards. Before the war, most working class people would’ve worked in service (that is, as a maid, groom, footman, etc) at some point in their lives, making them very familiar with these great houses. To them, a small, hidden staircase is no mystery, nor is it anything sinister. Those in service are meant to be invisible to their employers, which means all evidence of them being in the house and living beside their lords and ladies (and what have you) are meant to be tucked away. That’s how the house is meant to exist so it can operate as desired.

[You can argue some logistical problems here with me mainly citing England, as Nancy Drew is an American invention, but tropes can be borrowed and she does, after all, travel]

But something happens after the war when new money comes in, specifically I would say in the 1930-40s, of people who have never been a serving class, coming in and either buying these grand old houses or just seeing them for the first time as someone who is not meant to be hiding themselves away in these “secret” places meant for servants. If you pair misunderstanding with a tension for the old ruling classes who built these houses, a hidden staircase can become nefarious and ripe for mystery.

None of this is to suggest that everyone interacting with these houses in real life early on was fucking stupid or totally without context, but it does make sense in helping create a trope for mystery novels. That mystery becomes greater and greater as more time passes and we entirely forget the presence of a serving class in great houses. The misunderstanding is most notable, as it is almost unbearable, when it comes to castles, their entire logic being so wholly different from the modern conception of what a living space is and how it functions.

Granted, castles are nefarious structures. They’re fortified military bases with countless features designed explicitly for defense and being able to kill people. But is everything in it sinister? The standard thickness of castle walls (eight, ten, twelve, I’ve heard even sixteen, feet of solid stone) necessitates some layouts and features that are wholly bizarre to us. An 8 foot deep window seat in the king’s privy chamber ends up having a “hidden” door in it that goes up to a separate chamber in the king’s tower. A chamber in a separate tower has a trap door in it, perhaps under where the bed may have been, accessing a cellar that has no other entry point, only one small, iron-grated window high in the wall.

None of this is intended to be strange, mysterious, hidden, or nefarious. The “hidden” window seat door only seems hidden to us because that’s usually not where you put a door, that’s not a standard flow to a living space. But to those living in it—and I’m specifically referencing Conwy castle here, so to Edward I, the king who built it—this was perfectly normal. The trap door in the tower room is not a dungeon (though there is an oubliette in a separate tower) only a store room for valuables that need to be kept as secure as possible. None of this was set up originally to be a mystery, it has only become mysterious with the passing of time.

So the mystery comes about when you do not have the context or natural understanding of the space. Castles, manor houses, even old Victorians in their unconverted states, are weeping with mystery to us in our modern world if we have not studied them.

If we’re speaking specifically about Nancy Drew games, this trope of a mysterious location is absolutely a must. It is always the fifth or sixth hidden character in the game and enriches the game’s initial mystery. Which brings me to my main point: these are the kind of “hidden staircases” Nancy Drew games need.

In newer games we can plainly see an understanding for the need of mysterious locations full of odd secrets, passageways, perhaps even puzzles, but the writers seem to have forgotten how the trope operates and where it comes from. You can play around with this trope and do it brilliantly, like in FIN with the seat contraption that takes us to the hidden magician’s room. That too relies on lost knowledge. Or even SSH, which has its multi-layered ziggurat temple to slowly discover. But too many games attempt it and fail, or aren’t aware of how the trope came about in the first place, and thusly don’t know how to use it properly.

This shows up most notably to me in GTH and CAP. GTH I love for its atmosphere, but the mansion itself has more things wrong with it than right. There are some hidden places, one staircase that leads into a hallway wall we can peek through, but it experiences an absence of the right kind of hidden staircases that a manor like this would’ve undoubtedly had. MHM manages it, in a more diet form, with a dumbwaiter, a downstairs bar area and that skinny white staircase, which I can only assume is meant to be a servant’s staircase.

Castle Finster in CAP is its own special nightmare. There’s no way it was ever a real, fortified castle that has now been converted into a hotel. It exists, in some impossible space, not by the logic of what a castle is, and what innate “mysterious” things a castle has in it for us to explore, but by what a Nancy Drew Game needs because… idk, there’s always hidden stuff right? Doors that slide open when you pull a lever in a fucking glass furnace, right? That’s mysterious! That’s a Nancy Drew mystery game location, right?

It’s shit, though, really. And in conclusion, and to subtweet the writers that have completely missed the point of mysterious locations and why this trope exists and how it works, study an actual castle before you go about writing one in your game and placing a mystery in it. This trope exists for a reason, and that reason is not gratuitous mysterious garbage.

[canaryatlaw]

Today was....ugh. I mean it was mostly fine but I'm just in a rotten mood right now because of a few circumstances. But we'll start from the top (like we always do). Alarm goes off at 7 am, I manage to get out of bed even though it's gross and rainy and literally my least favorite type of weather, it's not like I really have a choice at this point. Gotta get those damn hours in. So I make it to work without incident (I came very close to getting through the metal detector without it going off....I swear it was like a second delayed. One day) then when I got up to my office I quickly finished off the timeline I was working up for the polish kidnapped twins (I'm not gonna take the time to explain that right here, so Tuesday night's post if you'd like to know more) mainly just adding the doctors report, then gave that to the lawyer, and then was effectively out of work. So I told everyone that and just like, hung out for a while to make sure they knew haha but nobody really had anything for me so I shrugged and said okay, I'll work on trial ad, which was a good move. I never really know where I'm gonna go with these things when I sit down to write them, which is true for a lot of the things I write. Some of it is basically done for you if you have a deposition transcript or something similar, but crosses are still different and such. So I got the direct and cross mainly hammered out throughout the day and I'm pretty satisfied with them. The case is being charged as first degree murder, and the defense is putting up a justifiable self defense defense, but the facts of the case very much indicate that it's actually a second degree unreasonable self defense case (which is when a person has a genuine belief their life was in danger, but that belief was objectively unreasonable). But we have to argue our side and why it shouldn't go to the other, so it's interesting. But yeah, I messaged my partner back and forth for a while and we got some good stuff done. I also had some inspiration to go to the stans donuts website and write to them about the incident I witnessed there about 3 weeks ago now. The inspiration came from a Facebook friend who wrote into the "not your mother's" brand of hair products about how their labeling saying "you have so much shopping and everything to get done how would you have time to shampoo your hair??" and pointing out the people really in need of the products are those that don't have the time to wash their hair because they're working very hard to make a name for themselves, and the company actually loved the idea and are now changing the message on all of their products, which is like, super awesome. So it somehow gave me the idea to report the incident. I tried to make it very clear that I did not want to get any fired or in trouble here, and that I genuinely think the male workers just didn't know any better, and that's the issue I have. So I told them what happened and how disturbed I was by it, and how I very strongly felt that if there was a female employee present there is no way in hell she would've let them kick the girl out. So I really just encouraged them to share this kind of stuff with their male employees so they can actually recognize this kind of situation and not throw someone out because they were "causing trouble" when really they were the victim of harassment and you just threw them out right to where their abuser was. So I felt good about that. Somewhere in the afternoon I got an assignment to look up cases and statutes in an old motion they were using as a template for a new one, and wanted to make sure all the case law and statutes are still valid law (the legal term for this, for some strange reason, is called "shephardizing"). So I basically went through and came up with a detailed list of the cases their cases had cited to and such, and I thought it was pretty well done. Around 4 I heard we were getting a TC in right now because our courtroom was on "duty" week, which means they stay up all afternoon to handle any cases that would've gone to a different calendar but that one is down for the day already. It was just a stip because the mom couldn't get her lawyer there, so it without TC without prejudice (meaning they can re-litigate it in the future, but they have to take TC within 48 hours of taking PC so it's somewhat frequent to do it that way). The petition was something alright, it was like, substance abuse, BITING YOUR CHILDREN and a bunch of other bizarre things that the correct legal term for is "yikes." She also messed up her children's birth dates when going over them with the ASA....whoops. So that was mildly entertaining at least. So when that was mostly over I went back upstairs and put the finishing touches on what I was working on and sent it over before heading out. Oh, I forgot to mention, my back has been insanely killing me for the past 24 hours or so, to the point where I had to take my heating pad to work with me today because I knew there would be no way I could even function without it because it's just so damn bad. Ugh. So for that reason I did not go to kickboxing, which of course I already expressed my annoyance at the other night, so I just went to Starbucks instead and started typing up my opening statement. It's so funny, cuz I sit down at the computer and just type "opening statement" as the title with no idea what I actually want to write, but then my brain just goes, and a couple minutes later I have some well-crafted paragraphs with a solid theme running through. The whole thing about this case is the victim was this bigger guy and the defendant is smaller, so you know the defense is gonna be all about how much bigger he was and how much he feared for his safety, so I decided the best way to rebut that narrative was to turn it on its head and go with the "big lovable teddy bear" persona instead. I decided that instead of being called "William Jones" his friends called him "Willie" and will proceed to only refer to him as that for the entire trial, just because I know that kind of shit endears people and it works very well, lol. So I got this whole thing worked up about how the defendant thought that just because of his size he had to be a threat to him, and he was a threat he was going to eliminate, by any means necessary. I think it's a fairly good way to flip the other narrative to make it work to our advantage. I almost wished I could've brought race into the problem, but none of the races of the parties were specified and I think it would've been wayyyyyy stepping over the line to pull out of thin air that the victim was black and the defendant was white so I could make my narrative about prejudice against the "big scary black guy" who was really just a big sweetheart. I recognize that that would've been way out of bounds though so I didn't go anywhere near it. A little past 7 I start walking over to church for small group, only for one of my small group leaders to pull up to the curb in her car and drive me the rest of the way, lol. We had a bit of confusion at the beginning because the church is like going nuts getting ready for Easter (I shit you not, they have a like, 8 food tall paper mache carrot in the kids section and I have no idea why) and the rooms were being cleaned so we got shuffled around a bit but eventually ended up in our regular room. The guy I was talking about last week was there of course, and we didn't get to talk quite as much, but there was definitely an undercurrent of something going on there, and I started like teasing him lightly and just kind of laughing and idk, it's just nice. Like if it doesn't go anywhere I won't really be disappointed, but it would be cool if it does. I just don't want to get my hopes up over nothing, not this early at least. I had like, a really hard time focusing in small group today for some reason I can't identify, but we talked about the similarities in the stories of Cain and Isaac which I thought was interesting because you never see Cain portrayed through any sort of redemptive arc, and he never really achieves redemption in the story, but God does give him another chance. And we talked about why God would've liked Abel's sacrifice and rejected Cain's, and all I could think of was that I was definitely told as a child in Sunday school it had something to do with God wanting sacrifices in meat, not fruit and vegetables and that's not exactly in the bible haha so that was interesting. It was a "knowing God" week which are great of course, but I really love the "loving others" weeks because you know that's kind of my thing. But anyway. We ended, I walk down to the blue line station and get onto the train, anddddd here's where everything starts to fall to shit. As soon as I sit down I'm aware I'm being watched, but I just ignore it and try to do my own thing, but pretty soon this guy is trying to get my attention, and just how he's looking at me makes me immediately uncomfortable. I knew, unfortunately, where this was going. So he starts telling me how pretty I am and I try to just be like "thanks" and turn back away but then he starts saying how he doesn't see a ring on my finger and I was like "uh no, I'm not married" at which point he takes it upon himself to move into the seat right next to me and is literally inches away from me and okay I am VERY uncomfortable at this point. So I go with my one tried and true excuse, and just blurted out "I do have a boyfriend though" (which, of course, I don't). But, thankfully, that did the trick and he backed off, but he made it VERY clear that was the only reason he was doing so, because he didn't want to cause any trouble with my "boyfriend," otherwise we could be together. And I'm just sitting there so ridiculously uncomfortable and while all of this is happening, there are other people in the car. I make eye contact with a few of them when he's right next to me and I'm certain the panic was very clear in my face, but not one even batted an eye to do anything about it and I just.....god, I hate that so much. I hate that I have this picture of myself in my mind telling any guy to fuck off if he tries to do anything, but then when something actually happens, I turn into a scared little girl who just tries to appease him in the easiest way to get out of the situation. Like goddammit, I should be better than this. I'm a feminist, dammit. I shouldn't have to resort to telling a man I have a boyfriend to get him to back off, I should assert that I'm not interested and that's enough. But I didn't, and I kind of hate myself for it. Next time, maybe. It depends on the context too of course, how many people are actually around, so if the guy decides he doesn't like my answer he can't somehow grab me without anyone seeing. The other question it brought to my mind has to do with intersectional feminism, and it is admittedly something that's been brought to my head on several occasions lately- that when a man makes me uncomfortable, does it have to do with his race? It's not like white men never make me feel uncomfortable, they do plenty of the time. But sometimes when a black man makes me feel uncomfortable I feel a stab of guilt somewhere that that probably has to do with a racist view I have somewhere deep down, but like, I don't know, I don't think race is the determining factor but it might be there?? And of course I don't want that. But then I'm faced with situations like tonight where the man who was harassing me was black. What does a white feminist do while being harassed by a black male? How does intersectionality work here? This is me genuinely asking, because I'm just not sure how I'm supposed to feel about any of this. Like should I not have as much feelings of misogyny about the situation as I would if it were a white man? I'm totally convinced I would've been just as uncomfortable if it had been a white man. I just....I don't know. I don't have any answers, just lots of questions. Sigh. I was going to switch compartments at the next stop but thankfully the guy got off instead and I breathed a big sigh of relief (while sparing a glare for those who sat through the incident and did nothing). When we make it to my stop, the bus is "delayed" 2 miles ago like it was two weeks ago with no telling how long it'll be delayed, and after all that I was like nope fuck this shit, so I just get a Lyft home because I'm tired and upset and my back hurts and I just want to go home, dammit. When I did get home I watched the episode of powerless I had recorded while I was on my computer and shortly after started getting ready for bed, and that was my day. I'm just......gah. I'm so frustrated. With men, with society, with myself for not being as strong as I pretend to be. I'm just so frustrated. But anyway. Sleep is definitely needed about now, so I'm gonna go do that. Goodnight my dears. Rest well.