#it speaks to an inability to comprehend the emotions of others effectively

[tapestryundone]

note to self i should make a post detailing just how bad hero is at being emotionally aware with others

[mackiebeth]

it's so sweet knowing that you love me (though we don't need to say it to each other)

Pairing(s): Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: You were born completely deaf, unable to fully learn how to read lips and constantly finding your hearing aids uncomfortable. On your venture for coffee, you find yourself overwhelmed (to the point of escape) when you are being spoken to by a (very pretty) woman who you cannot understand. Confusion and chaos arise on both ends. You return that same week, ready for the hateful confrontation that might take place. Fortunately, that "hateful" confrontation does not happen.

Warnings: none (a bit of angst, but then it's all fluff)

Word Count: 2.1k

Author's Note: this little collection of one-shots is still one of my favorite things to think about occasionally... perhaps i will consider making a third part if you give me some of your ideas on what the third part should consist of...

Main Masterlist | ao3 | Wattpad

Click Here for Part 2 to the 'Sweet' One-Shot Collection

...

From an early age, you realized that you were different from other people. When you would go to various places with your parents, random strangers always tried to talk to you. You couldn’t hear them, of course, considering the fact that you were born entirely deaf; adults and children alike never seem to understand that, though, and continued their quests of trying to get you to talk with your mouth rather than your hands.

Due to your innate inability to hear, you grew up learning sign language as your primary language. It wasn’t until you were four years old when you were lost in the supermarket, frantically trying to find your parents, that you realized the majority of people do not comprehend your language. Growing up in upstate New York, there weren’t exactly many people like you. There were not many people that felt ostracized by their community for something beyond their control, nor were there many individuals jumping at the opportunity to make accommodations for situations like yours. Thus, the most you were able to do in terms of communication was writing and reading in English and ‘speaking’ in sign language. Unlike some other people who were deaf, you were never able to learn how to read others’ lips, which frustrated you to no end.

And, honestly? It sucked. It was a lonely experience, and you spent many nights of your childhood (and adulthood) crying to your parents about it. It broke their hearts seeing their child experiencing such a cumbersome set of emotions and experiences that most do not even witness in a lifetime, and you knew they carried a pang of guilt about it all. You wish they didn’t, though, because you know it’s not their fault and that they have been trying their best to help you thrive despite your challenges. 

It wasn’t all bad, darkness, and negativity. In fact, there are many moments where you found your deafness as a sort of power or unique ability (instead of an inability). It allowed you to sense things differently. Your favorite way to decompress was feeling certain textures, especially the yarn blanket your mother made years ago, and putting on loud music so the vibrations would flow through the medium of the speakers and into your body via your fingers or your feet. Something about it all was therapeutic.

You received a pair of hearing aids as a child, but you did not necessarily prefer them. In circumstances where there were a lot of people in a given room, the sensations would become quite painful and confusing for your brain to untangle and compute all at once. Ergo, you only really use them on the occasion where you know prior that there were gonna be few people and low amounts of background noise, like when you are working one-on-one with a client.

Given that you were going to the local coffee place, you elected to leave hearing aids at home. You use your phone to place a mobile order, effectively removing the barrier of needing to talk to an employee to order. You walked into the shop and began your path towards the pick-up area. Reaching and sorting through the other orders, you eventually come to the realization that yours is not there. You figured that the staff was simply behind on crafting the drinks, so you wait for a few minutes.

As you anxiously played with your fingers, one of the employees approaches you. She was slightly taller than you, but she was also undeniably beautiful. Her long auburn hair was tied back, held in place by a mere tie. You caught a brief glance of her eyes, quickly noticing how green they were. In the presence of such a pretty lady, your anxiety began to rise. She gave a shy smile and began moving her lips to form words. Due to your overly anxious state and inability to read her lips, you rapidly became overwhelmed. You look behind her to see her coworkers behind the counter snickering at you two. Immediately, you assumed they were laughing solely at you, talking about how the only reasonable explanation for your lack of response was stupidity beyond any repair. 

So, you turned around and walked out of the door. You felt so embarrassed , more than you have ever felt since high school. All you wanted to do was go home and decompress.

Wanda stood there in a state of shock. One second, she was there trying to explain to you how she couldn’t make your drink because they were out of oat milk; the next, you were gone.

Did I say something wrong? Wanda thought to herself as she watched you escape her workplace.

Hanging her head in shame, she retreated to behind the counter where her coworkers, Bucky and Sam, were still laughing at her failed attempt to have a conversation with you. The brunette has watched you for a while from afar; she knew your favorite drink like the back of her hand, and she always tried to make sure your favorite spot in the corner of the café was kept neat and tidy for you. In her eyes, you were the most beautiful creature to walk on this planet. She would give up anything to know you as something more than just a customer.

Wanda let out a sigh of frustration mixed with sadness, leaning against the counter with her head in her hands. She finally broke the monotony of the undying laughter, “Would the two of you stop laughing? It’s not funny. Oh my god, that was so embarrassing.”

“Cheer up, little witch,” Bucky started. “There are more fish in the sea.”

“I don’t want other fish, though. I want her,” she tried to reason. “She’s so pretty, Bucky. And, after months, I finally worked up the courage to talk to her, and she just walked away from me.”

The latter part made Sam raise an eyebrow, “What do you mean she just walked away from you? Did you say something that could’ve upset her?”

“I don’t think so,” Wanda tried to think back. “I was just starting to explain how we were out of oat milk, so I couldn’t make her drink. But, before I could even give her some alternative choices, she just… left.”

Sam let out a hum, unsure of what exactly to reply. The three employees went back to work, yet Wanda was definitely not thinking about her encounter with you while making the various orders.

A few days had passed since the incident. Even though you vowed never to return to the coffee place (your favorite coffee joint), a conversation with your mother left you feeling more empowered and confident about it all. Her facial expressions and rapid hand motions displaying her anger at the workers forced a smile out of you. 

Thus, you decided that you were going to return to the coffee place the next morning. You repeated the same mobile order but decided to keep your phone in hand in case you needed to type something mean and vulgar at the employees who left you feeling humiliated the other day.

You grasp the handle and pull the door forward, granting yourself entry into the once comforting setting.

With a fleeting glance to the counter, your eyes briefly meet hers. It was too late to turn back now, so you cautiously walked to the familiar pick-up area. However, your drink seems to be missing again today. Great.

You look up to see the same woman from before warily approaching you, and it takes everything you have in your body to not flee the scene. Similar to the previous time she walked up to you, the girl began to speak again. She did not get very far before you opened the notes app on your phone and started to furiously type. By the expression on her face, you could tell she was surprised at the sudden action but waited for you to stop typing. 

After a minute passed, you finally turned the phone to show your message to the woman:

Hi, there. I’m deaf, and I don’t have hearing aids on at this moment. Anything that you’ve said, I did not hear… at all. 

You watched with patience as the other girl slowly and carefully skimmed the message. Her head tilted and her mouth opened to form an O-like shape, and you could pinpoint this moment with exact accuracy as the moment she realized that you were not (and were never) purposefully ignoring her — you couldn’t hear her; that’s why you must have left suddenly.

She shyly smiled and nodded towards your phone. With a quirked eyebrow, you offer it to her. She happily takes it from you to begin typing a message of her own:

Hi! I’m so sorry I didn’t realize before… I’m sure it must’ve been frustrating to just have someone talking AT you rather than WITH you. Is that why you left suddenly last time?

You weren’t really sure why you were surprised by her message, specifically the last part. Did she remember? After thinking for a few minutes, you form a reply:

Yeah, I guess… I was just very overwhelmed, and I saw some of the others laughing. I just felt bad, idk. So, I left.

You definitely did not expect the frown that appeared on her face when you walked in there today. She pointed to the phone, and you gave it to her once more. 

I’m sorry… if it makes you feel any better, they weren’t laughing at you or anything. Actually, they were laughing at me, not you.

As you read the new message, your face visibly contorted into confusion and disbelief.

What do you mean?

With the phone in her hands again, she typed: 

I’ve been wanting to talk to you for months, Y/N. The last time you were here, I finally tried to talk to you - at least about how we were out of oat milk for your drink. I guess they found you walking away without saying anything VERY comical. 

It was your turn to be in a complete and utter state of shock.

Oh… Wait, how do you know my name? 

She wrote her reply fairly quick: 

Who do you think makes your drink every time? ;)

As she passes the phone back to you, she personifies the wink in real life. Immediately, you feel the blood rush to your cheeks.

Well, I feel like it’s fair to ask for your name now - an 'eye for an eye’ type of thing.

She subconsciously bites her bottom lip as she slid the phone over with her reply:

Wanda. Wanda Maximoff.

Something about her name and connecting it to her made you feel… light. 

Well, Wanda, I’m here talking to you now, aren’t I? Why did you want to talk to me before? Am I that intimating?

It was her turn to fall victim to blushing, reading your questions regarding her apprehension of talking to you.

Intimidating? No, not really. Really pretty, though? Can neither confirm nor deny.

You released a small, quiet chuckle at her compliment; Wanda, on the other hand, has to remember for a second how to breathe because she heard you for the first time. She loved it, and she only wants to hear more. 

Give me your phone?

You sit there in confusion but comply with her unspoken request nonetheless. You give you her unlocked phone again, except you notice there’s no new message in your notes app conversation. You raise your eyebrow, showing you don’t really understand what just happened. Wanda, however, just winks at you again and slowly returns to her spot behind the counter. 

You never found out what she did at that moment on your phone until you receive a text a few minutes later from a foreign contact labeled “Wanda ;)”:

Wanda ;)  [9:47 AM]

Hey, sorry to cut our convo short - I had to help the customers. Meet me for dinner after work? 6 pm? :)

How could you say no to a request from her? You look up from your phone to see her biting her lip, hiding a smile as she makes drinks for other people. You look back down at your own device to respond:

You [9:48 AM]

I’ll be there. :)

You don’t remember being treated with such care and understanding before, especially by who was merely a stranger moments ago and has seemingly little experience with a person who is deaf. Wanda was different, though — a good different. She initiated a feeling of happiness and freedom within you that had not been experienced prior to that day. Most people did not consider trying to help you or finding different ways to talk to you, but Wanda did; moreover, she did so because she wanted to — she wanted to actually know you. 

It was increasingly evident that you were beyond infatuated with her. The night went so well, in fact, that you changed her contact from “Wanda ;)” to “Wanda <3” after you met her for your date that same evening.

End.

[qcellbit]

i dont expect everyone in the world to be medical experts but ive been seeing a lot of comments surrounding q!quackity after his last stream that have bothered me so i thought id clear a few things up (as someone who suffers from a brain injury).

i dont know if quackity the content creator has done his research into brain science but regardless of the federations canon goal with q!quackity, the brain is an extremely delicate organ and its impossible to surgically alter specific memories or traits. they mightve attempted to achieve something specific with their experimentation on him and regardless of whether or not theyve succeeded, theyve undoubtedly given him a brain injury. a brain injury can be caused by any manner of trauma to the brain and often results in:

nonspecific short and long term memory loss

difficulty comprehending written text

significant difficulty writing

significant difficulty speaking

confusion

psychosis (hallucinations)

emotional lability

bizarre and seemingly nonsensical behaviour

improvement is not a straight line and lapses in different areas of ability can occur at random completely disconnected from each other. q!quackity might have no trouble writing certain phrases one minute then be completely unable to write the next, but he might very well be emotionally sound throughout all of this. he may suffer from a long string of lapses in short term memory but be able to write the entire time - IF this is accurate to real life, which im currently treating it as since his symptoms all match my own.

and i cant believe this has to be said but please try to avoid laughing at any of these symptoms...? these are real effects that brain damage can have and giggling at and infantilising his inability to communicate is cruel. ive seen people making jokes about his "keysmashes" when that is something i myself and many other people with brain damage do when trying to text without realising.

[granulesofsand]

Selective mutism vs no talk program anon again. I should probably also add that the way verbal issues are presented are different for that alter and most others as they would not necessarily be too overwhelmed to talk but rather parsing the right words together is difficult and the body feels lightheaded. I know skills can vary throughout the system but I sometimes hear about high support level autistic systems saying individual alters can’t be nonverbal and we consider ourselves low support

Part 1: What you asked

🗝️🏷️ RAMCOA, programming, torture mentions

I don’t love how we’re talking about alter identities through the lens of the whole system, but I can help with the programming aspect of this.

This may be programming. If it is, it would likely be scramble or no-talk, depending on the perception of the alters effected. If you already know you have a history of programming, I would lean more towards that possibility.

Scramble progs mix up information both ways. While active, those effected might have difficulty comprehending speech from others or producing it themselves. It can change the way visual or tactile information is perceived as well. Scramble progs are sometimes tied to no-talk, but they don’t have to be.

Other no-talk progs target language, movement, or thought. This can look like inability to put sentences together, lack of understanding of known languages, clenched jaws, biting your tongue (usually not off), brainfog, sudden flooding of emotions or memories, lots of things.

Both are installed by torture, but the alters effected need not hold the programs and the programmed alters need not remember events. The more alters involved, the more complex the structure of the system.

Selective Mutism is associated with anxiety, but I don’t think it’s required for diagnosis. Alters are rarely diagnosed individually because it would be on the record of the whole system. If this alter ever speaks aloud, Selective Mutism might be accurate. I would not say that the system has Selective Mutism just because some speak aloud and some do not.

I have Opinions about alter-specific labels, so the rest is about that.

Part 2: the Opinions

🗝️🏷️ syscourse, alter labels

These use our system as an example because we exist this way and have these experiences as anecdotal evidence. It might be relevant to you, but here’s a TL;DR— alters should be able to identify with labels if they fit that description.

With our experience as a Deaf system, I have no qualms with an alter being Deaf. This is because Deafness is a subjective experience reliant on community and ability. An alter who is deaf/hard of hearing/similarly effected would be Deaf if they know and use a signed language and participate in the Deaf community.

Some systems are not as clear-cut with alters. Some systems share memories between members. Some systems consider themselves collectively one person. All of these are good reasons to refuse an opt-in label like Deaf, but ultimately no one else decides whether or not you are Deaf enough.

Alters are capable of producing varying presentations within a body. This is a well-researched phenomenon, and if it were not there are still many systems who live this reality. Some effects only appear the same, others functionally are.

We have asthma. The younger alters have not had treatment for asthma, so the body has severe asthma when they are fronting. Their brain maps do not include information about medications and their effects, only what they front for. They would also have mild asthma if they took the medication for a while.

Alters in our system qualify for personality disorders, for different heart conditions or digestive issues. All of these tie back to trauma, but every alter has a different set of life experiences to inform their health.

Similarly, support needs are going to vary by alter. One body may not be treated as having this variety, but that is because of an assumption of singular self. It makes sense that some alters have different symptoms, and what they ID as should be up to them.

Refusing an alter’s right to choose who they are is only proof that others do not see us as whole. If you are an alter who feels this way, you may adjust your labels accordingly.

It is not acceptable to treat every system like this without intimate knowledge of who they are and how they function, and even then it would be preferable to talk it out rather than make their decisions for them.

If an alter is nonverbal in the same way a singlet is nonverbal, they should be able to choose that label accordingly. It may well be that this protector is nonverbal rather than SM, or it may be programming. They should have the space to determine which seems to fit best and how to proceed.

We have many alters who are nonverbal, but some of us were tortured into behaving otherwise. We were stuck between a rock and a hard place, and if we had not split someone who could do what was asked, we would have died.

We maintain relationships by alter rather than as a body, so many of our friends know our body as nonverbal because this is all they will ever see. Alters have the experience of being nonverbal all the time, they should be allowed to find peers who understand them.

I don’t see this as the same as race; you cannot change the body’s race, you cannot have the experience of another body’s race. An alter can have experiences with many other things. It is little more than the Deaf community gatekeeping from those who are HOH or use cochlear implants. Sometimes we do belong, and we are not wrong for existing.

[stevenshultze]

How Premature ejaculation affects Marriage

Introduction

Marriage is a stunning connection of two people that is based on love, trust, and intimacy. However, it has its share of difficulties, just like every relationship. Premature ejaculation (PE) is one such issue that can have a substantial negative influence on a marriage.

I. Knowledge of Early Ejaculation

Let’s first examine premature ejaculation to better comprehend its effects on marriage. A sexual disorder known as premature ejaculation is characterised by an inability to regulate ejaculation, which causes ejaculation to occur during sexual activity earlier than anticipated. This frequent premature ejaculation causes occurs with little to no sexual excitement, which upsets and irritates both partners.

II. Poor Communication

Premature ejaculation has a number of negative effects on marriages, one of which being a breakdown in communication. When a guy has PE, he could feel inadequate, humiliated, or ashamed, which makes it challenging for him to talk to his partner about the situation. On the other side, the absence of sexual fulfilment may cause the partner to feel unappreciated or underwhelmed in the relationship.

Couples should place a high priority on open and honest communication to address this influence. Both spouses can better grasp the difficulties and cooperate to find solutions by honestly discussing the problem without assigning blame or passing judgement.

III Reduced Sexual Satisfaction

Sexual pleasure is one of the most obvious effects of premature ejaculation for both parties. owing to his inability to control his ejaculation, a guy who is suffering PE could feel unsatisfied, while his partner might feel disappointed owing to the briefness of the sexual encounter.

Intimacy and sexual desire inside the marriage may suffer as a result. Over time, it’s possible for both parties to start to link unpleasant emotions with having sex, turning it into a source of tension and worry rather than enjoyment.

Couples can investigate a number of options, including:

1. Seeking Professional Assistance: Receiving advice and therapy for PE can be obtained by speaking with a medical professional or therapist who focuses on sexual difficulties.

2. Knowledge: Sexual education may provide for more enjoyable sexual experiences for couples by teaching them about sexual positions, methods, and strategies to extend sexual activity.

IV Stress and frustration related to relationships

Premature ejaculation that occurs frequently can strain and frustrate relationships. As was previously noted, men with PE may feel inadequate and frustrated, and their spouses may sense disappointment and resentment. This mental turbulence may affect many facets of the marriage, causing conflicts, stress, and perhaps even thoughts of divorce.

Couples might think about addressing this effect by

1. Couples therapy: Seeking professional assistance can give both spouses a secure setting in which to discuss their thoughts and find answers.

2. Stress management: Developing coping mechanisms for the emotional stress brought on by PE might benefit both couples.

3. Supportive atmosphere: One way to lessen the emotional strain is to create a supportive and understanding atmosphere where both spouses feel heard and cherished.

V. Effect on Self-Esteem

A man’s self-esteem and confidence can be significantly impacted by premature ejaculation. Feelings of inadequacy and insecurity can result from repeatedly failing to satisfy one’s spouse sexually. These emotions can damage a man’s whole sense of self-worth and self-esteem, spilling over into other aspects of his life.

The marriage may also be indirectly impacted by this effect on self-esteem. A man who is experiencing poor self-esteem may become less emotionally invested in the relationship, emotionally withdraw, or even develop mood swings and despair more frequently.

Individuals with PE might think about the following options to address this impact:

1. Individual therapy: Self-esteem problems may be addressed and techniques for boosting self-confidence can be obtained by seeking therapy or counselling.

VI. Possibility of Infidelity

Premature ejaculation can occasionally cause irritation and discontent, which might lead one or both partners to consider adultery. When one partner has sexual and emotional dissatisfaction on a regular basis, they may look for fulfilment elsewhere because they think they will not be able to achieve it in the marriage.

Couples should give the following top priority in order to avoid the possibility of infidelity:

1. Open Discussion: Partners can find strategies to increase their sexual happiness inside the marriage by fostering open and honest dialogue about their wants and aspirations.

2. Professional Assistance: Getting help for early ejaculation can greatly enhance sexual performance and happiness and lower the probability that a spouse would look for sexual fulfilment outside of the marriage.

Know more- Premature Ejaculation: Differentiation from ED and Cure

Conclusion

A common sexual condition that can seriously harm a marriage is premature ejaculation. It may result in a breakdown in communication, decreased sexual pleasure, marital tension, and emotional upheaval. However, it’s critical to understand that PE is a curable illness, and that with the correct assistance, couples may successfully traverse these difficulties.

The key to minimising the negative effects of premature ejaculation on a marriage is to prioritise emotional connection, seek expert aid, and engage in open communication. Couples can overcome this frequent sexual dysfunction by cooperating and finding strategies to experience a meaningful and gratifying sexual connection. Keep in mind that a happy marriage is based on mutual love, trust, and the capacity to overcome obstacles.

[bearbos-kindledtales]

4. The Weight of Misunderstood Emotions 

Within the realm of family conflicts, Bearbo found himself navigating treacherous waters, particularly when it came to asserting his own rights. It was a delicate balance between defending his beloved siblings and questioning his own worth. In these heated arguments, emotions often took center stage, engulfing Bearbo in a whirlwind of uncertainty. 

His mother, quick to downplay his emotions, dismissed his tears and passionate outbursts, labeling them as excessive and unwarranted. She failed to grasp that for Bearbo, these matters held immense significance, as they touched the very core of his being. Instead of addressing the underlying issue, the focus shifted to questioning why Bearbo was so emotional about his own actions, leaving him feeling invalidated and misunderstood. 

Caught in the tempest of his own emotions, Bearbo struggled to maintain composure. Words slipped from his tongue in moments of frustration, unintentionally causing further confusion and miscommunication. This tendency, a symptom of his undiagnosed ADHD, added another layer of complexity to the already turbulent dynamics at play. Bearbo felt as if he were speaking a different language, constantly misunderstood and frustrated by his inability to effectively express himself. 

The challenges of living with undiagnosed ADHD began to take their toll on Bearbo's well-being. He found himself at odds with a world that expected him to conform, to simply "power through" and force himself to comply with tasks he couldn't find the internal motivation for. It led him to believe that he was lazy and stupid, incapable of meeting the expectations placed upon him. These feelings of self-doubt gnawed at his soul, fueling a sense of inadequacy that seemed insurmountable. 

The realm of chores, a common battleground for many families, became a perfect storm for Bearbo. He struggled to find logical reasons for his inability to complete tasks, often plagued by an overwhelming feeling of resistance within his own being. While his parents demanded explanations, his mind became clouded, making it nearly impossible to articulate the complexities of his struggle. 

In those instances when Bearbo did have a legitimate reason, such as forgetfulness, his parents failed to trust his words or accept them as valid. Instead, his mother would point out how Bearbo excelled in other activities he enjoyed, dismissing the fundamental differences in his ADHD brain. The lack of dopamine release that accompanied completing mundane chores made it an uphill battle for Bearbo, a battle that his parents struggled to comprehend. 

At the time, Bearbo found no solace in knowing there was a name for his struggle. He internalized the notion that he was simply lazy and stupid, unaware of the underlying neurological factors at play. The weight of these beliefs burdened him, leaving him feeling lost and overwhelmed. 

In the midst of this turmoil, Bearbo turned to the teachings of philosophers who embraced the essence of Hakuna Matata—an ideology rooted in finding peace and letting go of worries. He clung to the notion that everything would eventually work out, hoping to find solace in a world that often felt chaotic and unforgiving. 

Despite his doubts and battles, Bearbo's resilient spirit endured. He continued to seek understanding and acceptance, yearning for his parents to truly listen and comprehend his struggles. It was a journey marked by frustration and self-discovery, as Bearbo grappled with his own emotions and searched for a way to bridge the gap between his unique perspective and the expectations of those around him. 

>> Next: 5. Bearing the Frostbite >>

[agape-philo-sophia]

➝ How Consciousness Expresses, How Our Brains Function, And How Our Emotions SHOULD Be Cultivated To Operate Within The Parameters Of Their TRUE Design - That Of a Moral Compass 🔑

Most people, when asked what Consciousness is, will reply that it is the state of being awake. That is most certainly true, for that it is. But when people reply with this answer, they are almost always talking about the state of being physically awake. This is not the kind of Consciousness we're talking about here. For one could be physically awake and still be largely or totally unconscious in their overall awareness.

If we consult a standard dictionary of encyclopedia, we find that Consciousness is commonly defined as "the characteristics of a being generally regarded to comprise qualities such as subjectivity, self-awareness, sentience, sapience, and the ability to perceive the relationship between oneself and one's environment."

Subjectivity means one's own perceptions of one's existence. Self-awareness means that one is able to ponder and comprehend the fact that one is actually aware of one's own characteristics and perception - being aware that you are aware, so to speak. Sentience is the capability of having perceptions and feelings. Sapience is discernment or wisdom - the ability to know that some things are more desirable than others if a particular condition or outcome is preferred.

This definition of Consciousness does an overall good job of accurately describing the condition. But we could express the basic definition of what Consciousness actually is in a more concise and simplistic way. Keeping in mind and building upon the popular dictionary definition, one could say that at its essence, Consciousness is the ability of a being to recognize patterns and meaning with respect to events taking place, both within oneself and in the external realm in which the self exists and operates.

This ability is the fundamental driving force of all Creation. It could be said that all of Creation itself IS Consciousness in various forms and states of awareness. Consciousness is required for matter to exist. Consciousness creates the observable effects we perceive in our world. Everything that exists in the seemingly "external" domain first exists as a construct in Consciousness before becoming manifested through form.

Consciousness, or the lack thereof, is the agency responsible for the conditions in which we find ourselves, in all times and all places. It is responsible for the current conditions of Earth and all the people and animals living upon this planet. Almost anyone who is asked the question "Do you think that things are perfect just the way they are going on this planet?" will respond "No" and say that they think that things could, and should, be much better compared to the way things currently are. Yet, while most are aware that something is not quite right with what is going on here, few people can cut to the core of the problem and recognize it for what it is that causes all the suffering and negativity human beings seem to perpetually experience on Earth.

The root of all the problems we experience, indeed of all the problems humanity has ever experienced, lies in the Consciousness of the individual human beings alive on this planet at any given time. Our apparent inability to alleviate our suffering, brought about by the manifestation of these problems, is always caused by one thing: an imbalance in Consciousness which leads to a diminution in conscious awareness. The less Consciousness we have, the less we recognize the patterns of behavior and event which lead to suffering. When we work to increase our Consciousness, we develop more of the ability to recognize patterns which lead to negative results, and we therefore become more capable of avoiding negative outcomes and creating positive results and conditions.

The purpose of our collective existence is to steadily increase our conscious awareness until we can master our ability to develop sapience, the ability to make correct conscious choices, utilizing proper discernment, to bring about positive effects, conditions, and relationships in our world. This process is the goal of the spiritual journey and the manifestation of the Will of Creation. It is the Evolution of Consciousness.

At the current time in which we live, humanity has arrived at a critical point in this evolutionary journey. Human beings simultaneously possess (perhaps for the first time in our existence, to this degree) the ability to create a veritable paradise on Earth - in which the suffering of the beings of this world could be virtually eliminated once and for all - and the ability to destroy not only all human life, but the lives of every living thing on the entire planet. One situation is miraculously promising, the other incredibly horrific. The fact that they both exist in simultaneous juxtaposition with each other certainly makes the time in which we are living quite interesting and exciting.

While these two potentialities are competing with each other, so in fact is the increase and decrease in human Consciousness. We are seeing Consciousness growing with amazing acceleration and in greater numbers of human beings than at, perhaps, any other time in history. Side-by-side with this process, we are also seeing the Consciousness or more people hijacked, shut down, and quite possibly destroyed by the forces of Fear and Evil than at any other time in history as well.

What is required to transcend the conditions of suffering in which we currently find ourselves is an increase and acceleration of this process of conscious awareness on the level of the individual, and then on a global level. This global awakening will only take place once enough individuals have made enough conscious change within themselves in order for these energies to spill over into the collective Consciousness of humanity, upon which time this change will accelerate even faster and become habituated.

While it is true that we are going through a dark period before this light of awareness emerges in its full presence, I prefer to see the situation as hopeful rather than bleak. More and more people are becoming Conscious, Aware, and AWAKE. The change in Consciousness, this paradigm shift, IS happening, and nothing can hold it back, for it is our birthright.

When we emerge out of this evolutionary cocoon, our metamorphosis will be complete, and we will awaken to a new day and a new world. The end of the journey will join with a new beginning to complete the circle. And we will truly know ourselves for the first time.

Yin & Yang Energies

A mystical concept derived from Taoism that is extremely relevant in a study of the working of human Consciousness is the idea of the Tao, a balance of polar energies inherent in all Nature. Taoist tradition teaches that if we are able to strike a balance between these polar forces, and harmonize these two competing polarities within ourselves, justice and order will result within and around us. Falling prey to a perpetual imbalance of these energies would result in the experience of suffering and chaotic conditions. This makes perfect sense when we understand the properties of these polar energies.

To do this, let's begin by analyzing the basic symbolism of the Tao symbol. It is comprised of a circle, inside of which are two inter-locking swirls, one light and one dark. Inside each swirl is a smaller dot which is the opposite color of the swirl itself. The circle represents all of Creation. A circle is never-ending. It has no beginning or end. It is a perfect shape, as it has no corners, rough edges, angle, or irregularities. Thus it represents God, or Creation itself, the All-That-Is.

The two swirls represent change, of which all Creation is comprised. All that exists is in a constant state of change. All matter passes from form to form in an endless dance of Creation. Life itself is change. Inability to change is the equivalent of death and non-existence. Therefore the two swirls inside the circle represent this ever-changing dance of matter taking place within the whole of Creation. The two dots within each swirl represents the idea that, no matter how deeply into one polarity or the other we may travel, the seed of the opposite energy is always carried within each polarity.

Let's now examine the expressions of the polar energies that comprise the Tao. The light area is called Yang. It represents the following general qualities: Light, Solar, Day, Masculine, Active, Analytical, Dominant, Aggressive, Left-Brain, and Right-Body. The dark area is Yin, which represents the expression of the following qualities: Dark, Lunar, Night, Feminine, Passive, Intuitive, Submissive, Right-Brain, and Left-Body.

A human being's Consciousness is comprised of all of these energies, as is the Cosmos. This is why it may be said that we are created in the image and likeness of God. Neither of these sets of opposing energies should be seen as being all good or all bad.

Our Consciousness contains all of them. A balanced and fully-functional Consciousness will contain all of these qualities in balanced proportions. This balance is the essence of the key to mental and physical health, and the ability to think critically and make decisions that will result in prosperity for the individual and society as a whole. When these energies are thrown out of balance, and one begins to severely dominate the other, suffering and chaos are the result.

One of the oldest symbol sets in human antiquity contains many parallels to the concept of the Tao. Known as the Blade and the Chalice, these two symbols also represent the competing masculine and feminine polar energies. The Blade was depicted as an upward-pointing triangle. This served as a rudimentary phallic symbol, representing the solar, masculine, Yang energy. The Chalice was a downward-pointing triangle which represents the feminine womb, calling to mind the qualities of the lunar, feminine, Yin energy.

When these energies are combined in a balanced proportion, a third symbol was used to represent their harmonization. It is the Blade and the Chalice interlocked in the form of a six-pointed star. This symbol later became known as the Seal of Solomon in Judaic, Islamic, Christian and Alchemical mystic traditions. The seal represents the combining and harmonizing of the sacred masculine, or Solar energies with the sacred feminine, Lunar energies (hence the term "Solomon" - Sun and Moon), to create the "blazing star" of awakened Consciousness. It is only possible for us to exist in balance with our natural environment (which is made of these energies) when these two divine energies are working in unison within ourselves.

This concept of balancing the energies within our Consciousness, so that we harmonize ourselves with the divine proportions of these energies found in Nature, is called the Hermetic Principle. Named after the Greek god Hermes, the Messenger of the Gods, this idea has also been expressed by the adage "As Above, So Below; as Within, So Without." This conveys that that which takes place within our consciousness is reflected without to our perceptual surroundings. If our consciousness exists in balance and harmony, our external conditions will reflect this internal harmony and order. Consciousness thrown out of balance will create chaos and disorder in our external reality.

One can appreciate the simplicity and beauty through which our ancestors depicted these concepts through symbolism. In undertaking the study of this symbolism itself, we begin the task of uniting these opposing polarities within ourselves. Grasping the true meaning of these symbols assists us in this task - a task which is one and the same as our journey of spiritual development and Evolution in Consciousness.

The Threefold Nature of Consciousness

As human beings, we express our Consciousness in three distinct ways. This threefold nature of Consciousness has been referred to in various ways in many spiritual, mystical, and religious traditions throughout time. Some have explained it as Body-Mind-Spirit, while in other circles it has been called the Law of Three. Many traditions have described this aspect of Consciousness as the Holy Trinity - the Divine Father, the Divine Mother, and the Divine Child - symbolic descriptions for the manifestation of three vehicles of expression within one being.

The first way we express our Consciousness is through our Thoughts. In relation to the concept of the Divine Trinity, thoughts could be seen as the Creator God, God the "Father", as it has been termed in Christian traditions. Our thoughts precede all other ways in which our Consciousness manifests, either internally or externally. Everything that comes into manifestation in our external experience first existed at some point in time as a thought in Consciousness. Thoughts in and of themselves are purely non-physical and are not manifested as form in the material realm. They travel as electrical impulses in the synapses of the brain, and they do not arise from any pre-existing material things. Thoughts equate with the Mind in the Body-Mind-Spirit model of Consciousness. After arising within the Mind, our thoughts take on the role of Creator in our observed reality, as they do indeed create that which manifests within us and around us.

Emotions are the second expression of our Consciousness. They could be described as the internal manifestation of the reaction to our thoughts. As an internal expression that is felt within ourselves, emotions relate to the feminine principle of the Tao, the Yin polarity. In the Holy Trinity model, emotions are the Divine Mother, the Sacred Feminine of the Divine Family. In the Body-Mind-Spirit model, emotions are the Spirit, the felt presence of our experiences, which act as a balancing mechanism between our thoughts and our actions. Emotions are felt internally within our bodies through the creation of chemical transmitters produced by our brain and nervous system. This occurs after we have an initial thought about the concept or situation at hand. It is then internalized and felt with the body through the emotions.

It is interesting to note that in the Western Christian tradition, this feminine principle of our Consciousness has been removed from the Trinity and relegated to the genderless Holy "Ghost" or Holy "Spirit," connotatively suggesting that it is deceased, or at the very least, no longer in manifested presence. It has become a "ghost." The recognition of this "downgrading" of the Sacred Feminine aspect of emotion is important to keep in mind while reading further, as we will continue to see this concept symbolically repeated in significance ways in later sections.

The third aspect of the Trinity of Consciousness is our actions. Through our actions, we express our Consciousness in the external material realm in which we exist. Actions could be seen as the Divine Child of the Trinity, as they are the "offspring" of our thoughts and emotions. Actions are naturally equated with the active, masculine principle, the Yang energy of the Tao. To one degree or another, actions, as physical expressions, are carried out with our body. As such, actions are the Body component of the Body-Mind-Spirit model. In the Christian model, actions are the "Son" of God, the product of God the "Father," our thoughts, and the Divine "Mother," our emotions.

The most important thing to keep in mind about this threefold nature of our Consciousness is that it requires unification in order to us to function optimally and experience happiness in our lives. This means is that if these aspects of our Consciousness become imbalanced, they can soon become completely fractured and we will then experience this "tearing apart" of Consciousness through suffering in our lives. This occurs when our thoughts emotions and actions are in contradiction with each other. For example, while we may think and feel a particular way about some aspect of our lives, we may still be persuaded, for whatever reason, to take action that is in disagreement with our thoughts and emotions. This betrayal that takes place within ourselves is called Opposition, for when one component of our Consciousness betrays another, we are in Opposition with ourselves.

The state of balance or harmony between the three aspects of our Consciousness occurs when we have unified our thoughts, emotions, and actions. As we think, so we feel, and so we act. There is no contradiction between the three expressions of our Consciousness. When we live our lives in this mode, suffering begins to diminish and we are imbued with powerful creative and healing energies. This state is the inverse of the state of Opposition. We are no longer in a state of internal betrayal, and therefore this balance is reflected in the external conditions we experience.

The highest form of this state of balanced Consciousness is called Non-Duality, for the three aspects of our Consciousness have become united as one, and are no longer in Opposition with each other. This state of Consciousness has been called by other names such as Buddha Consciousness, Christ Consciousness, Enlightenment, Anointing, Full Awakening, and many others. Whatever one may call it, it essentially means the same thing - the uniting of yourself, so that your thoughts, emotions and actions do not betray each other. Through the process of uniting the threefold aspect of our Consciousness within ourselves, we pass from Opposition to Non-Duality, and we become one.

The Triune Brain

A basic understanding of the structure of the human brain is necessary, if one truly wishes to understand both the basic dynamics of Consciousness, and the situation in which humanity currently finds itself. The brain is generally recognized as the seat of Consciousness in the body. While I would never claim that Consciousness is limited to the brain, the brain is certainly the organ through which we most directly connect to Consciousness on the physical level.

As we've seen previously, our Consciousness - our means of expression while in physical form - has a threefold nature: Thoughts, Emotions, and Actions. Just as our Consciousness itself, has a three-in-one nature, so, in fact, does the human brain.

The idea of a threefold brain was proposed in the modern era by American neuroscientist Paul D. MacLean, who correlated human behavioral manifestations with the physiological structures inherent in the brain. His research led to the formulation of a concept now known as the Triune Brain. The Triune Brain model shows that what we generally think of as the human brain is actually three complexes, or three smaller brains that work together as one in order to provide the functions necessary for human survival and expression.

Continue here: https://www.minds.com/blog/view/803286994527223808?referrer=MindCom

[writingraven]

Writing Emotion

Anger

✺

Physical Effects

↦ aggression

↦ arguing

↦ blaming

↦ brooding

↦ clenching fists

↦ clenching jaw

↦ controlled tone

↦ criticizing

↦ complaining

↦ crossing arms

↦ crying

↦ demanding

↦ face flushing

↦ frowning

↦ grinning

↦ hot flashes

↦ inability to listen / comprehend

↦ inappropriate reactions

↦ insulting

↦ impetuosity

↦ increased pulse

↦ irrationality

↦ irritability

↦ losing control (thoughts and actions)

↦ physical reactions, often violent

↦ pupils dilate

↦ rigid

↦ risk taking

↦ sarcasm

↦ slow, unsteady breaths

↦ speaking unusually slow or fast

↦ staring

↦ stomping

↦ sweating

↦ teeth grinding

↦ tense

↦ threatening (verbally or through gestures)

↦ tight-lipped smile

↦ tight muscles

↦ tunneled vision

↦ twitching

↦ withdrawing

↦ yelling

✺

Prompting Anger

⇨ Know What Triggers Your Character

⤠ anger is a secondary emotion, meaning it will be caused by a primary emotion (embarrassment, distress, etc.)

⤠ commonly, anger is caused by the underlying fear of being harmed (physically or emotionally)

⤠ think of your character’s fears and triggers

⤠ the reason behind the anger will affect the type of anger and the reaction

✺

Types of Anger

⇨ Dry vs Wet

⤠ Dry: sharp, stern, threatening, rage, seeing red, being done & vengeful

⤠ Wet: emotional, crying, trembling, screaming, being hurt & embarrassed for caring so much

⇨ Types Described by Therapists

⤠ Assertive Anger: a constructive form of anger in which someone expresses their emotion in a healthy, safe way

⤠ Behavioral Anger: impulsive physical reaction often expressed through violence

⤠ Chronic Anger: continuous, low-level feeling of anger/resentment/frustration often impacting health, relationships, and self-esteem

⤠ Destructive Anger: unhealthy response to anger commonly expressed through verbal/physical actions to hurt others

⤠ Judgmental Anger: response to a perceived injustice which can be expressed through criticizing others and can cause feelings of loneliness or low self-esteem

⤠ Overwhelmed Anger: sudden response due to stress reaching a boiling point

⤠ Passive-Aggressive Anger: avoidant response that includes emotional suppression, often expressed as sarcasm or pettiness

⤠ Retaliatory Anger: reaction to a direct attack, verbal or physical, in which anger is usually directed back at attacker

⤠ Self-Abusive Anger: anger directed inward, often caused by shame and low self-esteem

⤠ Silent Anger: non-verbal reaction to anger in which someone closes themselves off and does not communicate

⤠ Verbal Anger: aggressive anger in which one lashes out at another through verbal attacks; often feels guilt afterwards

⤠ Volatile Anger: explosive and destructive response that makes it hard for person to communicate or express themselves

✺

Writing Anger

➵ describe body language

➵ describe facial expressions

➵ describe physical side effects

➵ show character’s behavior

➵ show character’s inner dialogue

➵ show other characters’ reactions

➵ use short sentences and sharp words to build tension

➵ avoid using the word ‘anger’ or any synonyms; using the word is an obvious sign that you are telling the emotion instead of showing it

[senadimell]

Many unformulated thoughts about The Scarlet Pimpernel, but one key point about the core relationship that was really striking to me:

It was never Percy’s intelligence that Marguerite was attracted to. It was the fact that he was utterly devoted to her.

So there’s a line in the book that says something to the effect of “she’d never been in love before and didn’t think it was something that would happen to her. She figured she was just not a person capable of loving.” But then Percy shows up and adores her, and she doesn’t necessarily reciprocate right away, but she enjoys being loved and goes along with things.

Importantly, Marguerite is established as extremely intelligent from the beginning. Percy is...not. Even before he leans into foppish shallowness, people are willing to believe he’s not sharp. There’s a discussion of his mother and Sir Percy inheriting ‘madness’ that suggests people are willing to believe he has an intellectual disability, though obviously there’s different terminology being used given the time period.

While Percy turns out to be an intellectual match for his wife, it’s not his intelligence that Marguerite falls in love with. She doesn’t bemoan how clever he used to be—she laments how he used to love her.

This is important.

Marguerite thinks he cannot comprehend how she was entrapped into betraying people to death, and while at least some of this belief in his slow-mindedness may have developed after the fact, it was still rooted in a sincere belief that he was unable to comprehend the situation that she was in, and his inability to understand broke his love for her because he believes her to be a murderer. However, while she does grow disillusioned with his foolish behavior and apparent lack of intellect, she’s not mourning the intelligent man who courted her. She’s mourning a man, perhaps a simple man, but an honest one who she thought she could grow to love.

As for Percy, his falling-out with Marguerite happens because he had to find out how about her role in an execution from other people, and then when he turned to her for an explanation, she offered none. He loved her and he hoped for some emotional intimacy or confidence in return, but instead, she closed herself off and he’s hurt and offended.

Then it all goes downhill, because as he closes himself off and cultivates an overly foolish reputation, she starts to hurt him in the hopes that it will provoke some emotional reaction. If he can’t love her, maybe he can hate her (which is cruel, ridiculous logic but pretty human). Percy responds to this by hiding every scrap of emotion and never rising to the bait, always allowing her to make a fool of him, and never fighting back, and in private, he goes to the aid of French nobility without even dreaming of confiding in his wife. Meanwhile, she snipes at him and secretly despairs until she is truly trapped and finds herself utterly without confidante.

Why does this matter? Because the Scarlet Pimpernel is a romantic superhero that all the women love. If someone falls in love with Superman while being a-okay trashing Clark Kent, it’s going to be hard to accept that love as genuine. It’s really important to the story that Marguerite falls in love with Percy again before she ever realizes he’s the Scarlet Pimpernel and before she realizes how clever he actually is.

“Rather did I speak of a time when you loved me still! and I...oh! I was vain and frivolous; your wealth and position allured me: I married you, hoping in my heart that your great love for me would beget in me a love for you...but, alas!”

and then, later on:

The lazy, good-natured face looked strangely altered. Marguerite, excited as she was, could see that the eyes were no longer languid, the mouth no longer good humored and inane. A curious look of intense passion seemed to glow from beneath his drooping lids, the mouth was tightly closed, the lips compressed, as if the will alone held that surging passion in check.

Marguerite Blakeney was, above all, a woman, with all a woman’s fascinating foibles, all a woman’s most lovable sins. She knew in a moment that for the past few months she had been mistake: that this man who stood here before her, cold as a statue, when her musical voice struck upon his ear, loved her, as he had loved her a year ago: that his passion might have been dormant, but that it was there, as strong, as intense, as overwhelming, as when first her lips met his in one long, maddening kiss. Pride had kept him from her, and, woman-like, she meant to win back that conquest from which had been hers before. Suddenly it seemed to her that the only happiness life could every hold for her again would be in feeling that man’s kiss once more upon her lips.

Percy does happen to be the intellectual equal to his wife. But that’s not how he wooed her. 

I guess the really important thing to me here is that Marguerite was really awful to Percy, and she realizes it and regrets it, and tries to make amends before she ever realizes her husband is a dashing superhero. Heck, she asks for help protecting her brother and believes he'll be able to make things okay even before learning of his secret identity. She’s willing to love him even when he’s still slow Sir Percy Blakeney. It’s not his intellect or lack thereof that offends her, but their total lack of emotional intimacy (that started with her), and she’s willing to overcome the gulf between them by being vulnerable first.

[sevenofsorts]

Monday:

She’s started baking again. The other members of the Syndicate drop by sometimes to taste-test her recipes, and she shows them the progress she’s made in the construction of her underground city. They compliment the flower paths outside the city, the bridges and floating lanterns and the gorgeous high ceilings and furnishings within, the little subterranean forest and the waterfall, the decorations and details that make the cavernous space cozy. They see what she’s built and they praise her for it and it is exhilarating. She’s grown stronger day by day with the Syndicate in her corner; they pull her up to stand on equal footing with them, and when she expresses her concerns, they listen.

There are days, however, when she can’t bring herself to bake; on those days the heat of the furnace crawls uncomfortably against her skin and the knife block rattles in the corner with each item she sets down on the countertop. On those days she’ll climb. Buildings, mountains, trees—anything that’ll get her to a height where her lungs strain from lack of oxygen and the ringing in her head eases. She jumps, sometimes. They don’t know she does this. They don’t need to know; she’s strong enough to deal with that herself.

Yesterday was their leader’s birthday, and she’d left the party with leftover cake and cookies and brioche. Today is a good day; maybe she’ll share the cookies with Jack.

—

Tuesday:

He’s called the harbinger, the omen, the angel of death. Crows perform at his bidding and the great, lumbering bears of the north shake the ground as he directs them. He emerges from impossible battles with nary a scratch on his body. People across the earth have speculated that he’s a demon, or contracted with a demon, or one of the acolytes of the Blood God like the Blade. He likes to collect these epithets and rumors; when his crows perch on his shoulder to recount the news of the land or messages from his allies they update him on the tales they tell of the angel. They’re all wrong, in the end. Death herself graced him with her favor long ago to act as her representative on the mortal plane.

She’s been dormant recently; her absences had never affected him so strongly before, but ever since he’s entered this land, he’s felt weaker, more fragile. He watched his son destroy the country he founded with a haze across his vision, and then he killed his own son, and the act of it didn’t register until days later. Months fly by in a blur and the only person who can enforce any sort of focus is the Blade and so that simmering anger became his own and it fed into his own pain. There was something rotting in the land and it killed his son and he felt it his duty to purge it with the same TNT that destroyed his wings. He doesn’t regret it.

Today, he finds some measure of peace in building his training room. His son is back and everything is not-quite-broken and his body still aches.

—

Wednesday:

There are too many variables, too many uncertainties. He’s placed his fingerprints on too many projects and lives, and the guilt of his cooperation and his associations claws at his lungs. Dream, neutrality in the midst of war, Dream and his prison and the damned prison rules, Quackity, Las Nevadas. He doesn’t know what he considers his worst fuck-up: Tommy’s death, the torture he’d permitted in his collaboration with Las Nevadas, his betrayal of Ponk’s love and trust, or his inability to save anyone during the banquet.

The hotel stands as a testament to his failure to protect the youngest resident of the land. He plans detours around that plot whenever he travels between the bank and the prison; the little robot stationed by the hotel tells him the boy doesn’t come by anymore, and he knows automatons don’t feel emotions, but he grieves for it anyway. He sees his valentine walking along the wooden pathways and his heart aches to see the damage he had caused. He checks the prison’s security footage and he tells himself guilt has no place in his heart for what happened. He’s surprised the captain and the god and all the rest of the banquet victims still talk to him. But they do, and it gives him hope. His friends are back and free and even though one of them is trying to start a little scuffle with a god, today he’s having fun throwing weednip around and sliding down the pyramid with his closest friends.

The present’s a gift, and he intends on cherishing this moment.

—

Thursday:

He’s building a pub because Wilbur owes him a pint. He knows that man can’t be completely trusted, not now. Not since he died by his crossbow. But it feels good to be acknowledged as someone worth an apology, someone important. He has been abandoned and pushed aside and pushed into lava pits and into hell all within the span of a few months. No one cared. He hates it, he hates the way he’s been made irrelevant and a shadow of his friends’ stories. Even his plans for revenge had been inconsequential, unfruitful: the boy had lived and his accomplice had left him to brood in his own anger.

He’s held his grudges close to his heart and he’s let them fester and he won’t admit he’s tired of it all. If he lets go, then it all disappears and he’s really, truly dead, and if this is his afterlife, if all he can do is lag after the people he cares for, then it’s a fucking shit deal. So today, he’s continuing his work on the pub because he burned down his own home and because the hotel feels too sterile and empty, because he wants to have a space built with his own two hands where he can speak and someone will finally, finally listen. It’s not quite moving on. He’ll take it anyway.

—

Friday:

She tries to live by the code of kindness and reciprocity; that’s how she lived on the high seas of her youth, or so she suspects, based on the journal she found at the site of the shipwreck. Since the day she joined this land, she has made friends and found love and taken the young residents under her wing and vowed to fight against evil. She gives stacks of items to those who need them and she fixes up the holes in the road and offers therapy on difficult days.

The world isn’t as kind as she is. A country was erased from the map for grudges she still doesn’t understand, and no one will tell her the why discs, of all things, are so important. Two boys would have lost their lives to a monster she housed, had it not been for the money Tommy paid a mercenary for his aid. She mourned the loss of Tommy’s life as she fought to keep the hotel in his name, and when he requested therapy upon his resurrection, she was horrified at the effects of trauma he’d exhibited. The friends she’d tried to pull out of the Egg’s influence celebrated a young boy’s death and killed her son. And now this man has taken her friend’s turtle hostage for no reason she can comprehend.

She’s tired. She’s breaking; they’d presumed her kindness was a weakness and maybe it is. Today, she plans on destroying the red menace on the edge of her son’s land. It’s her turn.

—

Saturday:

He’s not sure how many sandstone blocks he’s carved out of the desert at this point, nor how many quartz chips and gold nuggets he’s pulled out of the Netherworld. The villagers know him by name and chat with him when he stops by to trade for emeralds and other goods. His hands bleed gold ichor from the opened blisters dotting his hands, and burns line the edges of his fingertips. Lately, his whole world is rushing by in colors of beige and yellow, green and white and blue. The color red started it, the scramble to build more and more—and it stopped it too, if only for a little while. Ponk asked him for permission to build on his land, told him it was a gift: a peace offering and an apology and a new beginning. It’s a silly build and it doesn’t match the aesthetic of the rest of his summer home, but it warmed his heart, to see the giant red refrigerator rising up from the top of the sand dunes for the first time. Ponk built it just for him. Quackity told him he was alone, and that he didn’t matter if he didn’t assert his powers like he did in the past, and he was wrong. Ponk stays, loves him for who he is now and not for the destruction he wrought.

He doesn’t know what to do now; his father destroyed the build for some grudge she holds against his friend, and he’s exhausted. He’s tired of being pulled into conflict. A vacation from all the tension occurring on his land would not be unwarranted, at this point—a few days, a week. It sounds relaxing—and he’ll do it, he’ll take a vacation, and he’ll tell Ponk that he’s in charge of the summer home later today. He has some packing to do.

—

Sunday:

He likes to splash around the pools and fountains in Las Nevadas when he has to visit. Sometimes he’ll climb up the needle and lean on the bannisters to feel the fresh air ruffling his hair and he thinks about jumping—the air turns hot and stale and the ground burbles up in orange and red—but his brother pulls him out of it, usually. Otherwise the place is boring. He’s not allowed in the gambling den or the club, so he hovers around the forests away from Las Nevadas when Wilbur and Quackity want to speak alone.

Today is one of those days. It’s fine by him; dealing with the two of them together makes him uncomfortable, with the way they push and pull him to their sides. The cigarette smoke lingering on their breaths remind him of the ravine, the explosions from the first war-second -Logstedshire-doomsday-nukes-prison. He’s escaped, for now. The air of the forest is crisp; he can spot flowers in the meadow ahead and he plucks them to form a careless bouquet. Alliums, lilies-of-the-valley, daisies; poppies and cornflowers and dandelions. He threads them together to form crowns and rings, places one on his head and cradles the rest to his chest to stash at home. It’s been a while since he’s made them; before he moved to this land he’d make them for his brother and his brother’s father, the dogs and cows and sheep around the farm. He feels like a child again and his lips twist at the bittersweetness. He’s found himself a bubble and soon Wilbur will barge his way in to speak of his loyalties and Dream and whatever the fuck he’s stormed up with Quackity, but for now, he’ll pick flowers and make chains and chains and chains that, for once, won’t drag him down.

—

  Monday’s child is fair of face.

Tuesday’s child is full of grace.

Wednesday’s child is full of woe.

Thursday’s child has far to go.

Fridays’ child is loving and giving.

Saturday’s child works hard for a living.

And the child born on the Sabbath day is bonny and blithe, good and gay.

[eganantiquus]

Capitalism: Its Effects on Heaven, Hell, and a Few Others // A Good Omens Meta

I think the discussion about capitalism in Good Omens is a very interesting one to have- specifically in how it relates to Heaven and Hell. I saw a post about it recently, about the Quartermaster saying Heaven would “take the sword out of [Aziraphale’s] celestial wages,” which begs the question: does Heaven have money? A system of checks and balances on the Angels’ miracles, perhaps? Heaven is, after all, the original monopoly. But how does that affect them? Or affect Hell, for that matter? (Keep in mind, I will primarily be discussing events and dialogue from the TV show, as that’s the canon I’m most familiar and comfortable with extrapolating on.) So let’s move out a bit to take stock of the bigger picture. First of all in this discussion, let’s remember that the entire structure of Heaven and Hell blatantly showcases the shittiest parts of capitalism. As a reminder, the cons of capitalism can include: a monopoly on trade, goods, or services; social/emotional necessities ignored in the pursuit of profit; lack of concern for the environment; driving need for exponentially increased profit, allowing no space for slip-ups or less-profitable cycles; Inherited wealth, and big gaps in economic equality, which creates social divisions, which cause people to resent their fellow citizens. Let’s first take a look at something we’re all familiar with. Heaven’s and Hell’s relationship with Crowley and Aziraphale. Both Heaven and Hell have an inherent monopoly on basically everything, which is something we see both Crowley and Aziraphale struggling with in different ways throughout history. They want to exist outside of the hierarchy, but there literally isn’t any outside. In terms of social/emotional needs… do I need to go into the trauma and anxiety that Heaven and Hell instill in Crowley and Aziraphale? A post for another time. And it’s apparent, however much they try to hide it, that both of them fear authority, and would do practically anything to get away from it. So, they wiggle out from under it in whatever ways they can. (See: the “arrangement,” Crowley’s “there’s more to evil than killing people, eh?” and Aziraphale’s “Well, if you put it that way, Heaven couldn’t actually object… ”) Lack of concern for the environment can be extrapolated to Heaven and Hell’s lack of care for humanity. (See also, uh, nuclear Armageddon.) Inherited wealth/prestige is definitely a thing: see the Archangels lording their power over the lower Principalities. There’s a bit more room for mobility in Hell, where doing more evil deeds = more prestige & (...dis)honor? Anyway, this is where Hell begins to deviate. Exponential need for profit in Heaven and Hell translates to their increasing intolerance of Aziraphale’s *ahem* lies. Hell is more lenient in this area too- perhaps because of their disorganization. So Heaven and Hell are capitalistic. But in what capacity, and what is the effect on their respective denizens? In practice, who’s the winner in this capitalistic structure? Hell isn’t, no matter how inherently hellish capitalism might be. They’re clearly the losers in this situation- they’ve got terrible service, (see: Hastur having to “[wait] for maintenance to come and fix another bloody pipe,”* and the Demon Eric’s “we don’t get this view down in the basement.”) lack the organization to rise up against Heaven, (see: the frankly concerning lack of organized preparation for The Great War) and are constantly put down. They all have to fight for their positions, and are intimately familiar with what the failure to succeed in this “business” means. Not to mention that their entire hierarchy is performance driven, showing the capitalistic values they, for lack of a better term, grew up in, are still ingrained in all their practices. Heaven is at the top of an office building, has views of the entire world, is clean and obviously well organized. It’s clear what the hierarchy is there- everyone walks in lines, Gabriel always stands slightly in front of Michael and Uriel and Sandalphon, all of the higher Angels we see interact with Aziraphale treat him like he’s less than them. Heaven clearly benefits from the organization and driving force that capitalism provides, while Hell is just getting by.

To dive further into what the effects of capitalism are on Heaven and Hell, let’s go into depth more about Heaven and Hell’s respective war preparation to analyze their motivations.

Hell’s war preparations are disorganized, at best. All the Demons of Hell, gathered around two ‘generals,’ getting ready to hear a pep talk best described as being far from premeditated or sophisticated. On top of this, the second something goes wrong, Beelzebub says it. Just like that, to all the Demons. It makes me cringe every time I watch it, to see the rest of the Demons turn to each other and wonder if they’re following the right leader. The thing about this, though, is that they don’t have another option for a leader. This is the place for the people who couldn’t make it in Heaven, the outcasts and Fallen, so they don’t care. There’s nowhere else for anyone to go. Hell is far more transparent about their hate, their evil, but also about their vulnerability. Perhaps not individual vulnerability, (see: Crowley needing to be Cool and Collected at every moment) but in their overall anxieties and problems, Hell is very transparent. There is no need to hide the problems Hell has, because there’s no worse place to go. In this way, Hell has accepted their fate at the bottom of the totem pole.

Now let’s talk about Heaven’s war preparations. When Aziraphale arrives prematurely in Heaven, his “whole platoon” is “waiting” for him. So, Heaven has an organized war effort. They have uniforms. They have someone checking everyone in, putting them into place. (Where do they all line up to go to war? Where does the war Occur?? Questions for another time.) However, here is the interesting part: Heaven’s whole spiel to get everyone motivated, unlike Hell, is based on fear. While Hell brings up the actual motive for fighting, saying “we lost” and “we have had thousands of years to… get smarter,” Heaven tells Aziraphale that he’s a “coward” if he doesn’t fight, while not providing any reason besides ‘he’s supposed to.’

Here lies the beginning of the difference between Heaven and Hell: their motivators. Now let’s talk about how they carry out justice, and how that is an indicator of the effects of capitalism on them both.

Hell’s trial for Crowley is a mockery of the word, let’s be perfectly clear. They don’t provide him with a defense, and have an implicitly biased jury. However, it is a trial. A trial with evidence presented against him, a prosecutor, and a judge, and everything. What’s so interesting to me, about this, is that they don’t think for a minute that there wouldn’t be a trial. If they had thought such a thing was possible, they would have taken the opportunity. But they didn’t think of it. And that is what is so important here. Hell is the one that carries out a just trial. And I think that really speaks to their experiences as the Fallen. They know what no mercy looks like, what it is to be cut off from God’s love, with no hope for recompense. And, however evil they are, they know how much that hurts. Hell is just because they were given no justice. 

Heaven, on the other hand? There’s no preamble to Aziraphale’s “trial.” There isn’t even a trial. There’s just the characteristic fake-niceties boiled down to their basest component: a complete lack of empathy for anyone who deviates from the norm. (See Gabriel’s “into the flames,” and “don’t talk to me about the ‘greater good,’ sunshine.”). And, oh yeah by the way, what kind of good and just society uses capital punishment? Isn’t that the exact sort of thing Heaven should be above? I should sure hope so! Their believed moral code, the idea that because they’re Angels, divinely Chosen by God, that whatever they do is predestined to be right, has all the flavor of a strong dictatorship. So convinced are they of their superiority that even outright capital punishment is not below them. This is an interesting contrast to their motivation of fear that we looked at in the previous section. Perhaps higher Angels use fear to keep Angels in line, but feel exempt from the process itself. Very similar to the way big CEO's in the human business world accumulate wealth and power while their workers work paycheck to paycheck.

So Heaven is fundamentally bad, and Hell is fundamentally… good?

Not quite. 

Both Heaven and Hell are operating under the millennia of repressed trauma and baggage that came with the first war. For example, let’s look at their refusal to see nuance in the issue of war Take a look at Gabriel’s “We can fight! And we can win!” to Aziraphale and Beezlebub’s “Don’t you want to rule the world?” to Adam. They can’t comprehend that someone would want to, or, for that matter, could look at the structure of The Way Things Are and go, ‘No, this is not for me, I think I’ll just do this quietly over her instead.’ Heaven and Hell have each been indoctrinated in their own ways, by God and by Heaven and by their own inability to look past their instructions.

So, Heaven and Hell operate under the guidelines of a capitalistic system because of their respective experiences with authority and punishment.  

What does this say about Crowley and Aziraphale? That they’ve managed to dodge this system (mostly) altogether, and made one of their own… based purely on joy, mutual respect, and They still have their issues, (See: Being unable to communicate effectively. When? Oh, just for all of history) but for the most part, they’re living their own lives. It takes an especially strong will to stand up to a faulty administration, even if the standing up part consists of drinking a lot of wine, sliding around killing people, and consorting with an enemy who’s actually quite nice. It takes what a lot of Angels and Demons, simply put, don’t have. Like Hastur, who doesn’t have an “imagination.” Crowley invented one for himself. Crowley and Aziraphale practically invented free will for themselves, too. Part of their ability to so wholly reject their ‘upbringing,’ if you will, must be connected to the fact that they spend so much time around humans. If we go with TV show canon, they’re practically the only ethereal/occult entities that are on Earth for any long period of time. Of course they’re going to catch on from the humans. So Crowley and Aziraphale are the only celestial beings who have been able to get free of this terrible system, and so are able to better ‘guide’ the humans, which inevitably leads them to attempting to stop armageddon. (And of course, the apocalypse, according to Aziraphale, is something no “reasonable person would permit!”)

This brings us to the humans. Specifically, how Heaven is supposed to guide them. Heaven doesn’t, insofar as we are aware, care about the humans. Perhaps other Angels do, ones who have walked among them. But for the most part, especially with Gabriel, Michael, Sandalphon- the people in charge- the humans are an afterthought. They’re one knight on the chessboard, easily moved, taken, and discarded- perhaps with a bit of regret, but dispensable all the same. In this way, the exponential growth mindset that Heaven has goes to show just how far they’ve deviated from God’s design. Now, far be it from me to speculate on the nature of the Ineffable Plan, but as far as I’m aware, the Angels were created to love humanity, and to nurture them. Doesn’t sound like what they’re doing at all, does it?

So in this way, we can see that both Heaven and Hell have gotten the short end of the metaphorical capitalism stick. Hell, at the bottom of the ranks, desperate to climb back up and regain their glory, but unable to do so because of the weight of their Falling trauma; Heaven, in all its Jeff Bezos glory, unable to see the consequences of their actions close up because of their disassociation with “reality.” 

Capitalism and economics in general are incredibly nuanced things, and I do not at all pretend to fully understand them. However, I fully enjoy imagining how the complex dynamics of Good Omens universe Heaven and Hell deal with the repercussions of existence and their own actions through the lens of capitalism.

*side note from paragraph seven: I think maintenance work would be a more fitting job for Crowley and Aziraphale, and frankly, I would love to read a fic about that.

[muselexum]

♠. Overdue Birth and Related Effects

[ originally posted here ]

Due to being kept in the womb far past his normal due date, Ace has had to face the long term effects of it. While he was fortunate enough not to have any blaring physical disabilities from the abnormal pregnancy, his neurological development was effected.

“Post-term children have a considerably higher risk of clinically relevant problem behaviour. They are more than twice as likely as term-born children to have clinical ADHD,” concluded a study of 5,145 Dutch babies published in the International Journal of Epidemiology.

Modi said its findings were “perfectly plausible [because] we know that birth after your due date is associated with a whole range of problems. If your baby stays in the womb for too long they are more likely to be a stillbirth, or weigh too little or be more likely to have a neurological disorder, because the longer a baby stays in the womb the more likely the placenta is to stop functioning normally.” [x]

These are real studies done on overdue children, typically around a month overdue. Since Ace was overdue for much longer than that (to an absurd degree), the effects on him are more severe.

ADD [x]

Probably what has had an impact on him the most, Attention Deficit Disorder has been something that Ace has lived with for many years. He is not aware he has it.

Trouble concentrating and staying focused. Poor listening skills, and struggling to complete tasks.

Periods of hyperfocus where he gets absorbed on completing one task. This is a type of coping mechanism, where one distracts themselves to tune out chaos/overbearing things.

Disorganization and forgetfulness, from having a tendency to procrastinate, always being late, and having a knack for misplacing things.

Impulsivity is a big one, from having poor self control to having trouble behaving in socially acceptable ways.

Emotional difficulties. Easily flustered and stressed out, explosive temper, low-self esteem and self-worth.

Dyslexia [x]

Ace has always had difficulty with language, but especially with written language. From a very young age he realized that something was ‘not normal’ about him, because he just couldn’t understand words on paper like Makino or other people.

Because of his dyslexia, Ace tends to avoid reading all together. He has never sat down and read a book, he lets other people read the newspaper and regurgitate the information to him, and just goes about his life that way.

Early developmental stage:

Late talking - He was around 3 or 4 when he really started to form proper sentences. It certainly didn’t help that he was being raised by a group of bandits that couldn’t care for educating him beyond basic life necessities or getting him to hit developmental milestones.

Adolescence stage:

Reading well below the expected level for his age

Problems processing and understanding what he hears

Difficulty comprehending rapid instructions

Problems remembering the sequence of things

Difficulty seeing (and occasionally hearing) similarities and differences in letters and words

Inability to sound out the pronunciation of an unfamiliar word

Difficulty spelling

Adult stage:

Difficulty reading, including reading aloud

Trouble understanding jokes or expressions that have a meaning not easily understood from the specific words (idioms), such as “piece of cake” meaning “easy”

Difficulty with time management

Difficulty summarizing a story

Difficulty memorizing

Difficulty doing math problems

Ace is actually quite intelligent if people give him the chance to open up and have discussions, but because of certain behaviors, he can come off as “dense” to those that don’t know him well.

Hypersomnia [x]

Hypersomnia is characterized by excessive daytime sleepiness. People with hypersomnia can fall asleep at any time, anywhere, which can sometimes be dangerous for themselves or those around them. Hypersomnia tends to by tied in with narcolepsy, a neurological disorder that affects a person’s control over their wakefulness.

“People with narcolepsy experience excessive daytime sleepiness and intermittent, uncontrollable episodes of falling asleep during the daytime. These sudden sleep attacks may occur during any type of activity at any time of the day.”

Ace’s symptoms:

Excessive daytime sleepiness (EDS): In general, EDS interferes with normal activities on a daily basis, whether or not a person with narcolepsy has sufficient sleep at night. People with EDS report mental cloudiness, a lack of energy and concentration, memory lapses, a depressed mood, and/or extreme exhaustion.

Sleep paralysis: This symptom involves the temporary inability to move or speak while falling asleep or waking up. These episodes are generally brief, lasting a few seconds to several minutes. After episodes end, people rapidly recover their full capacity to move and speak.

[icharchivist]

first: WAHHHHHHHHH 😭😭😭 I got so emotional!!! so emotional!!!! so much that I can’t even do this first second pattern bc I have SO MANY thoughts!!!!!!! I’m writing this in my notes instead of straight into the askbox so u know it’s serious business™

ok so debut night!!! I was like ahah yeah it’s a tragedy whatever it’ll be fun to start out with and then the voice acting was SO good that it knocked me out of the park and I almost cried haha. it’s crazy how good the voice acting in a3 is like I love how the dialogue and voice acting works well together bc like it’s limited but so effective!! u can so very clearly see and understand the style they’re going for. especially like tsumugi’s death scene... the Talent jumped out it really did... uh and ok so. I think I may be a littleeee confused abt the play bc I had always interpreted tasukus last lines as raphael to be like abt his being secretly in love with michael. but now that I’m actually reading the line that’s like oh don’t fall for a human it only ends in misery I know that all too well or whatever... ig the implication is that raphael was in love with another human / the same lady michael was in love with in the play. side note I had to go back and edit the proper names in instead of tasuku and tsumugi lol... but speaking of!! speaking of the voice acting and the play itself I 1) love how blatantly obvious it is when tsumugi goes for that grander, tasuku like style of delivery!! like u could just so easily feel the difference it was wild... and 2) tsuzuru is once again spot on with his writing, lol... I felt that like raphaels inability to save or help michael really parallels how tasuku feels abt tsumugi so well, and it’s wonderful that they r able to resolve things and tasuku can properly compliment him on his acting where the angels fail to do so. it’s very good. and I think the play rly highlights (for me at least) that like. to tasuku, it was tsumugi who was sort of an unreachable existence. like were he to idolize and respect someone’s acting, it would be tsumugi. and I think that like caring carries over into their roles really well, because I think in michael’s love for a human tasuku sees like... tsumugi’s style of acting. the heart that he’d lost while within the god troupe. mb I’m losing my mind a little but ah. the play rly works with their relationship so well!! im very excited to see the other winter ppl get main roles tho—same for all the troupes!!! now this ask is too long so I’ll have to do another part lol

going to start off this second part of the ask abt hisoka bc oh my GOD. hisoka. like I was just thinking “hm where r the winter troupe cgs anyways” and then BAM. hisoka CRYING???? especially since he doesn’t seem that emotional it was a really hard hit!!! and who tf is august.... ok well actually theory time!! skipping ahead to the end theres that note that like mentions December and April and. not to expose my friend but very many years ago (a couple years before a3 was launched, at the very least) she wrote this story where there were like 12 orphan assassins and they were all named after months. I remember the main dude was named dec lol. coupled with my “hisoka is capable of murder” bit? listen.... I’m not saying anything but I’m also not not saying anything if u feel me. also I feel like assassin / thief with mysterious background is a common trope!! that was silver from the pokémon adventures manga too... why is this my reference point lmao. anyways I’m unclear if assassins would make it into a3 but like.... if the yakuza and supernatural stuff makes it in...

okay moving away from conspiracy theories and into emotions!!! the quotes from like EVERY mankai actor before the final production made me SO emo... and yay!!! they won!!!! (though admittedly I almost had a heart attack when no one clapped) but they won!!!! that ending cg!!!! and I adore how sakyo immediately goes after god troupe man (I know his name is reni I just don’t feel like calling him that) for the money lol it’s just so sakyo-like. also I love the lil mixed troupe interactions!! I found the game night ch so fun.... ahh, now I wanna reread that ch since it was so good lol

all in all I was super satisfied ahh!! I am SO excited to start up spring troupe again (HELLO character development!!! and chikage) and I’m even MORE excited to get thru all the act 1 events!!!! as a final note, is there any way to reread or replay the flair conversations? I didn’t want any spoilers for the plays while I was doing the practices for them so I kinda sped thru the first time ahah...

HELLO FRIEND IM SO HAPPY TO GET SUCH A LENGHTY ASK ABOUT WINTER IM LKDJFLKDJFLKFD  Winter makes me feel shrimps emotions (i know the whole “shrimps can see more colors than humans can’t comprehend” thing has been disproved but i’m not letting go of that expression, i REALLY feel emotions humans can’t comprehend anymore and i’m going to make it everyone else’s problem)

1) First about the voice acting, rIGHT this is just so fascinating to me!!! I remember after act 2 i came back to reread the main act 1 chapter and i was so thrown out by how GOOD the voice acting was, especially for the first few troupes having to convince you they’re not comfortable or good at acting yet. Winter whole thing is that they’re more subtle and mature and you really feel that with their voice acting, Tsumugi’s voice especially knock it off the park anytime he’s on screen. 

2) Second: what does it say about me that i’ve never, ever considered your reading a possibility because i was so set on “oh Raphael you’re in love with Michael sooooo bad you see it as a tragedy already because you can see him throw his life away” i didn’t even consider “maybe Raphael went through that too”. Though i guess if we’re going with that reading i can totally see “The Woman” they let themselves consumed by easily be a representation of acting or even more the God Troupe, with Raphael/Tasuku knowing to step away before it consumes him completely while Michael/Tsumugi, by his love and passion, pushed himself until he broke, which fits and it hurtsssss god Winter plays hits so hard.

3) Third: oh god yeah when Tsumugi goes for Tasuku’s acting it’s just. It makes me SO uncomfortable, i’ve experienced this scene like three times by now and the third time i was just “can i skip it i can’t go through this again i can’t Tsumugi i love you i can’t do this”. It doesn’t match the play at all and it just throws everyone off balance, and Tsumu you could have told theM YOU WANTED TO DO THAT.... god

4) Fourth: I LOVE YOUR READING SO MUCH I LOVE IT I LOVE IT YES YOU’RE RIGHT!!! Just as we follow Tsumugi let his passion consumes him until he breaks, Tasuku’s character arc really jumps out in Raphael, like, everything you say!!!  The way Tasuku/Raphael knew how the feelings Tsumugi/Michael felt would hurt him on the long run but he didn’t know what to do about it until it was too late, the regrets and the way Raphael voices his frustrations.... Tasuku struggles to be honest without acting (Tasuku pls i love you) but having such a role really help him expressing all he feels about Tsumugi and i’m HHHH this is so good so so good!!! but yeah i also love that Tasuku finally manages to actually compliment Tsumugi naturally, that he understands he can’t let him destroys himself again and it’s just gnhhhhh Tasuku is so kind and considerate and i care about him so much....!!!

5) Fifth: “i’m losing my mind a little” winter mood, winter mood winter mood- (though every troupe’s mood tbh but Winter is gnhhhhh kdhd hdhjf??? you feel me) (i am BIASED i can’t help it TwT) but yeaH i’m looking forward to see how you react to the others plays because the roller coaster juST BEGUN!!!

Onto part 2... Winter Troupe Chapter Feels... 2!

6) Sixth: DLFJDFKLDF HISOKAAAAAAAAAA I LOVE HIM SO MUCHHHHH. Hisoka crying fucked me up so bad!! so so bad!! Like on my first read i didn’t know what to think of him as he starts out very apathic to his troupe and then the more it goes on the more you can feel he starts to open up and i’m soft for this sort of slow burn, but then this whole scene happened and it HIT ME IN THE FACE, he was crying, i was crying, we were all crying, the Unopening Door opened a flood of emotions i can’t cope with. He sounds SO VULNERABLE during that scene and i know all of the Winter Troupe united on “taking care of him” but that’s really the moment i went “i care you and i will keep taking care of you” and look at me now. Thanks funky little scene for ruining my life. I’m glad you liked it i’m aldhjflkjdfkd Hisokaaaaa.....

7) Seventh: I am not commenting on the theory but 👀 that’s so highly specific your friend has a galaxy brain i love it. and i love the idea of “well we have yakuza and supernatural entity what’s an assassin adding himself to it” dLKFJDLKF i know everyone in Mankai calls Izumi out everytime someone joins but that’d be peak. I’m not going further about what December and August and April are all about but i love this plotline sO much, the few mentions of August when Hisoka regained his memories for a minute still haunts me, the guilt he seems to feel and this pain i’m just... godddd such a good set up. I love this plotline.

8) Eigth: EMOTIONS!!  Oh GOD YEAH THE ENDING WITH ALL THE OTHER ACTORS... I cried so hard it’s just. It really shows you it’s not just the culmination of the Winter chapter but of all the act 1 main plot and it really makes you feel how much of a journey you’ve been onto!! A3 is so good at showing you the growth of its characters that especially by the end of Winter you really saw how all of them grew in their respective chapters and how cozy they felt in their new home in the remaining chapters, and the fact this chap has those defining character arc’s lines really drive home “oh my god that was a journey” i love them sO MUCH.... 

9) Ninth: wE WOOOON!!! They’re all so good i just. i’m gonna cry just thinking about it dlfdjlfk i know like, the game has so many content so you know it can’t end at the end of Winter but the suspense really was there. BUT YEAH LMAO I LOVE SAKYO DOING THAT IMMEDIATLY, man sure has the eyes on the prize and we love him for that.  AND THE GAME NIGHT SCENE they are all sO CUTE and sWEET and they’re a family now and i’m hHHHHH i love a3 a normal healthy amount that isn’t just making me cry thinking about how all of them grew so close even through mixed troupes.

10) Tenth: I am SO happy you were satisfied with the plot so far!! I’m genuinely so happy that you decided to take that journey with us and that you shared all of this with me, and i’m so so happy you liked it!! There is still so much content and all of it is so worth it! 

11) Eleventh: Yes!! The flair conversations are all readable on the Mini-Chat tab! So they’re easily accessible and they’re sorted in a way that’s easy to read so you can feel comfortable skipping the flairs if you want until you have seen the stories the flairs are all about. They’re all kinda set during the rehearsals (except for some crosstroupe conversation that wouldn’t make sense if they were like how the Summer Troupe talks with the Spring Troupe in their Flairs DKLFJDF but it’s okay what is a timeline anyway) so some of them are set pre-development and it’s wild to get back to them. I love rereading Flairs i get emotional everytime.

ANND That’s it for this ask! i had a blast reading through your thoughts and i’m so happy and excited!! i’ll send you the drive now so you can start digging through it whenever you feel like it :3c good luck grinding for act 2, meanwhile i hope you’ll have fun with all the act 1 events i compiled for you!!

(side note i need to update the drive too but it’s mostly act 2 content anyway, the only two act 1 things i need to update on it is Sakuya’s birthday card i think?? i think Itaru’s is already in act 2 so i’ll try to get around to it eventually but it’s so far away anyway) (edit: i forgot that the three cards i got for the latest revival are from act 1 DLKJFD okay so i’m missing three cards -)

The drive has backstages and event stories and it may be a lot and overwhelming ahah. Focus on the event stories for the plot and go back to the backstages whenever you feel like it, no need to read them at the same time, unless you want to in which case everything is set up for you :3c and there’s a file with cards that aren’t associated to events too so... lots of goodies hanging around. I’ll send it to you in DM ;O 

Take care and thank you so much for all your thoughts! my inbox remains wide opened for any others thoughts you may have as you go further into it :3c

[arcticdementor]

Kayfabe is a treasured part of pro wrestling culture. Kayfabe refers to the commitment of everyone involved (the wrestlers, the refs, the announcers, and to a certain degree the fans) to maintaining the shared fiction that pro wrestling matches are unscripted. (Wrestling is real, in the sense that the athletes are taking real punishment and risk really getting hurt, and there is a degree of improvisation, but the outcomes are predetermined.) Kayfabe has had a kind of mythical importance to many in the pro wrestling community: you keep kayfabe no matter what, even in the event of serious injury, out of a sense of sacred commitment. Crucial to understanding kayfabe is that it is not an attempt to deceive the audience. Modern wrestling is in some ways perfectly open about the scripted nature of the matches. Fooling people is not the point. If every fan signed an affidavit saying they knew the outcomes were predetermined the wrestlers would still keep kayfabe, out of commitment to the culture. Kayfabe is a mutually-approved illusion. It is artifice, but it is mutually agreed upon artifice, a consensual fantasy.

Our current political culture is kayfabe.

The illusion that we pretend to believe is that we are in some sort of uniquely politically fertile moment for progressivism and social justice, that we are experiencing a social revolution or “Great Awokening.” Further, we keep kayfabe by acting as if we believe that certain policies like police abolition or abolishing border enforcement (or if you prefer utterly meaningless sloganeering, “abolishing ICE”) are tangibly viable in anything like the near future. I say that these are kayfabe to emphasize my belief that most people who endorse these beliefs are well aware that they are not true, and to underline the sense in which the commitment to unreality is mutual, an expression of a strange kind of social contract. Most thinking adults comprehend the current moment and understand that the hand of establishment power and the influence of social inertia are as strong as ever. (Why would you feel otherwise?) But because people have understandably been moved by recent righteous calls for justice, they feel they must accept the fiction of a new awakening to show solidarity with the victims of injustice. This is emotionally understandable, but strategically counterproductive. And indeed one thing that has defined these new social movements is their relentless commitment to the emotional over the strategic.

…

Living in a culture of political kayfabe is a strange experience. It feels the way that, I imagine, it feels to live under a truly authoritarian government, where you’re constantly having exchanges where everyone involved knows that what they’re saying is bogus but you push right through the cognitive dissonance with a smile on your face. Only you’re not compelled by the fear of torture or imprisonment but of vague-but-intense social dictates, of the crucial priority of appearing to be the right kind of person. So often political conversations today have this dual quality where you feel forced to constantly evaluate what your interlocutor actually believes even as propriety compels you to take seriously what’s coming out of their mouth.

A major negative consequence of our commitment to kayfabe lies in our acceptance of behaviors we would ordinarily never accept, under the theory that this is such a special time, we need to shut up and go along with it. Take our broken discourse, as frequently discussed in “cancel culture” debates. My experience and my intuition tell me that almost everyone in the progressive/left/socialist world knows that our discourse norms and culture are totally fucked up. Trust me: most people in liberal spaces, Black and white, male and female, trans and cis, most certainly including people in academia and media, are well aware that we’ve entered into a bizarre never-ending production of The Crucible we can’t get out of. They’re probably just as sick of Woko Haram as I am.

But they’re either empowered and enriched by this state of affairs, and don’t want the party to end, or they’re holding on for dear life trying not to get their lives ruined for speaking out of turn. Look past self-interest and self-preservation and you’ll find that everybody knows that the way left spaces work now is horribly broken and dysfunctional. The problem is that thinking people who would ordinarily object don’t because they’ve been convinced that this is some sort of special moment pregnant with progressive potential, and that is more important than rights, compassion, or fairness. So we maintain a shared pretense that things are cool the way you go through the motions on an awful date where you’re both aware you’ll never see each other again.

If I say “cancel culture,” normies indeed don’t know what I’m talking about, because they are healthy, adjusted people with a decent set of priorities who value their own time and lives too much to get caught up in all of this horseshit. But if I say “cancel culture” in front of a bunch of politics-obsessed professional-class shitlibs they will pretend to not know what I’m talking about. They’ll put on a rich fucking show. They do an impression of Cletus from The Simpsons and go “cancel culture?!? Hyuck hyuck what’re that? I’m not knowing cancel culture, I’m just a simple country lad!” These are people who have read more about cancel culture in thinkpieces than I read about any topic in a year. But pretending you don’t know what cancel culture is happens to be a key part of the performance, a naked in-group signifier, so they pretend. The “I don’t know what cancel culture is” bullshit performance is kayfabe at its most infuriating. I know you know what cancel culture is because you’re currently using it to demonstrate your culture positioning by pretending you don’t know what it is. You fucking simpleton.

People say and do weird shit and it’s all wrong but you just pretend like it isn’t. Who wants to be the one caught making waves? When you’re in a group of people and someone engages in something patently ridiculous - when, for example, someone says “AAVE” in an ordinary social situation with no academic or political reason to use jargon, even though everyone there knows the phrase “the way Black people talk” is more elegant, useful, and true - and the moment passes and there’s this inability to look each other in the eye, when everybody starts studying their drink and clearing their throat, that’s life under kayfabe.

Getting to this is not normal. It’s not a healthy state of affairs. It can only happen when people come to believe that self-preservation requires pretending things are OK.

…

It is at this point that people say that “defund” does not mean “abolish,” which is true, and Defund the Police indeed does not mean “abolish the police.” Defund the police means nothing, now, though I’m sure that the people who started using it had noble intentions. At this point it’s a floating signifier, an empty slogan that people rallied around with zero understanding of what semantic content it could possibly contain. If it’s meant to be a radical demand, why use the vocabulary of an actuary? If it’s meant to mean a meaningful but strategic drawdown of resources, why use it interchangeably with “abolish”? I cannot imagine a more comprehensive failure of basic political messaging than Defund the Police. Amateur hour from beginning to end.

I take the political concept of alternatives to policing seriously, in the same way I take many political ideas seriously that are not likely achievable in my lifetime. I know there are deeply serious people who are profoundly committed to these principles and who have thought them through responsibly. I appreciate their work and become better informed from what they say. But their ideas did not reign last year. A faddish embrace of a thoughtless caricature of police abolition reigned, pushed with maximum aggression and minimal introspection by the shock troops of contemporary progressive ideas, overeducated white people with more sarcasm than sense.

Policing will not end tomorrow or next month or next year. And whoever you are, reading this, you are well aware of that fact. The odds of police abolition in any substantial portion of this country are nil. Indeed, I would say that the likelihood of meaningful reduction in policing in any large region of this country, whether measured by patrolling or funding or manpower, is small. Individual cities may reduce their police forces by a substantial fraction, and I suspect that they will not suddenly devolve into Mega-City One as a result. (Though I can’t say initial data in this regard is encouraging.) I hope we learn important lessons about intelligent and effective police reform and more sensible resource allocation from those places. But the vast majority of cities will not meaningfully change their policing budgets, due to both the legitimate lack of political will for such a thing - including in communities of color - and broken municipal politics with bad incentives.

…

Living under kayfabe makes you yearn for plainspoken communication, for letting the mask fall. The professed inability of progressives to understand why woke-skeptical publications like this one keep succeeding financially is itself a slice of kayfabe. They know people are paying for Substacks and podcasts and subscribing to YouTubes and Patreons because it’s exhausting to constantly spend all of your time pretending things that don’t make sense make sense, pretending that you believe things you don’t to avoid the social consequences of telling the truth.

When you’re someone who spent the past several decades arguing that the American university system is not hostile to conservative students, that it doesn’t try to force extremely contentious leftist views onto students, and then you watch this video, how do you react? I think many people, most people, even most people committed to the BLM cause, see that video and wince. That is not how we get there. Browbeating 20 year olds for not parroting your politics back at you is not how racial justice gets advanced. But if you’re caught in this moment, how do you object? Acknowledge that, yes, in fact, it is now plainly the case that many professors see it as their job to forcefully insist on the truth of deeply controversial claims to their students, berating them until they acquiesce? Well that would be an unpleasant conversation with the other parents when you pick up your kid from Montessori school. So you just choose not to see, or keep you mouth shut, or speak in a way that maintains the illusion.

I mean there is the absurdity of what she’s saying to contend with - the now fairly common view that policing was literally invented in the antebellum South purely to enforce slavery, because in ancient Rome if someone came in your house and stole your stuff you’d just be like “oh damn, that sucks.” Is there a relationship between modern policing and slavery? Of course. Does the legacy of slavery and Jim Crow infect modern policing at every point? Sure. Should we make political and policy decisions that recognize that historical influence on policing, especially given the racist reality of policing right now? Yes. But what good does it do anyone to pretend that the concept of “the police” is 250 years old? Why on earth would we get the correct shit we do believe tangled up with this bizarre shit we don’t believe? (The professor in that video does not herself honestly believe the police were invented to support African slavery in 18th and 19th century America.) Because this utterly ahistorical idea is being promulgated by people who claim to speak from a position of justice, we are forced to assign seriousness to it that it hasn’t earned, seriousness that it could never deserve. Because we live in a world of mutual delusion. Because of kayfabe.

…

And the fact that some will wrinkle their noses about this piece and its arguments, go about their days of progressive performance art, and pretend they don’t believe every word they just read? That’s kayfabe, my friend. That’s kayfabe. And we’re trapped in it, all of us, you and I. You know it’s all bullshit. Will you keep the code anyway? I’m willing to bet that the answer is yes.

[animegenork]

Fruits Basket Season 2, Episode 16

Okay, so I know I express my love for just about every Sohma every single week, but I must stress how much I love Momiji. Rabbits are my favorite animal, and he is the Rabbit and every time there’s an episode like this for him I end up crying.

So, yeah. This week’s episode made me cry!

Once again, Fruits Basket pulls off its special sort of magic in which the subsequent storylines/developments end up tying closely together, and I can’t help but admire the sheer skill it takes to pull off writing like that.

We open (after the theme song) with Tohru realizing Uo’s pining for one of the Sohmas, but based on Tohru’s brief interaction, Uo’s like, “Nah, can’t be him.” I think that speaks to how Kureno acts in front of the Sohmas as opposed to when he’s outside the Sohma estate and the effect of the family in general. After all, most of the Sohmas do the same thing once they’re outside the estate; ironically, they feel much safer the farther they are from Akito. Yuki and Kyo are some prime examples of this pattern, and I just think it’s really interesting to point out how Kureno exhibits it as well. We don’t know much about this guy, but after - what - three episodes (?) featuring him in some way, we can tell that he has some huge burden on him that is Sohma-based.

What else do you do when your friend clearly wants to see this guy but won’t pursue any leads about him? GO TO THE SOHMA ESTATE, OF COURSE!

Seriously, Tohru is just amazing. She’s shouldering everybody else’s feelings and trying to hep them the best she can, all while wondering if she’s selfish for doing it?? There is a reason she is so beloved by just about every character in this series! You want empathy incarnate? YOU GOT IT!

Anyway, Tohru ends up bumping into (literally) Momo, who is Momiji’s little sister. Not that she knows that. Or does she? She helps Tohru sneak in, and they see Momiji playing violin. Damn, that boy can play. Puts my ten years of crappy playing to shame. The great thing is, Momo asks Tohru to ask Momiji if he’ll be her big brother, and the irony, paired with the fact that she wants to get to know this boy she barely knows is so sweet and adorable. NOT TO MENTION! She’s doing all this despite what her (and Momiji’s) father wants.

Now, I understand what Mr. Momiji (that’s what I’m calling him now) is trying to do. Thrusting Momiji into his mother’s life could disrupt the memory suppression she begged for. Also, it would be confusing to Momo - why does Mom not remember Big Bro? That sort of thing. However, Momiji himself makes a good point, too - his father’s being a wee bit selfish in trying to protect this happy little bubble he’s got. Where does he stand? (I would put up the “That ain’t right!” gif again but let’s not get ahead of ourselves.)

This entire escapade is beautiful to comprehend, because, as Tohru explains the Momo thing to him, Momiji starts crying because he’s happy. What’s important to understand about Momiji is that, for the most part, he’s only playing at happiness. A lot of us do. The thing is, Momiji is fantastic at masking his own emotions, especially considering Tohru genuinely does make him smile. He’s sad that his father basically makes him live separately from his family, but he does it anyway, because he’s always taking care of others. He says, “I can only be this happy because there’s someone who will cry for me.” Similar to Tohru, Momiji is ALWAYS thinking of others before himself, despite what his innermost desires tell him. So to have Tohru think about him and tell him that something he desires - that is, the chance to get to know Momo - is okay fills him with a joy he probably experiences rarely.

I. Love. Momiji.

Momo desperately wants to see Momiji, and Tohru sees a connection between this situation and Uo’s. She wonders why it is that being unable to see someone makes our feelings intensify - really, it is a CRAZY phenomenon emotionally, if you think about it - and realizes that Uo is a lot like Momo: she wants to see someone she physically cannot. Of course, Uo herself has no fault in this, and really, neither does Kureno. Like every other Sohma, Kureno is trapped by the family and by Akito’s expectations.

When Tohru finally ends up meeting up with Kureno (after some... bad attempts at hiding), we see a glimpse of someone who I honestly thought was Akito at first. Until he said “Akito” and I realized who exactly it was.

Not looking forward to the formal introduction.

But anyway.

Tohru asks Kureno if he knows Uo, and he does his equivalent of the “pffft nO” reaction. Suuuuure, Kureno, sure. Tohru continues and tells him how Uo misses him, that it takes a lot for her to outwardly complain about something (and in so saying “She likes you!!!!”), etc etc. His answer, however, is that he doesn’t plan on seeing her. He has other responsibilities (Akito) to, and that’s what he keeps telling himself. When asked if it’s because he’s part of the zodiac, he denies it, but doesn’t explain further. (THIS IS IMPORTANT: WATCH HOW HE LOOKS AT THE BIRD THAT FLIES OVERHEAD AS HE TRIES TO SAY SOMETHING ABOUT IT. THIS IS IMPORTANT LATER.)

Tohru has one of her moments where she goes on a tangent about how his feelings may change later about seeing Uo again, and he doesn’t respond. Which is understandable. They barely know each other and here she is totally picking apart his brain like a GENIUS. But in any case, he decides not to do anything about her sneaking around the Sohma estate and reveals that Momiji followed her.

Such a cute bunny.

Later, Tohru’s on the roof AND WE GET TO SEE KYO! He asks her what’s wrong, and she’s thinking to herself about Uo’s situation again. This poor girl needs some sleep, man. Kyo says something about how if she finds someone she loves, he’ll be there to help her out.

I could tell it killed him to say that.

This speaks a lot to Kyo’s feelings for Tohru; he’s already accepted that he despite what he wants, he probably won’t be able to stay by her side forever. The idea of anyone else loving her definitely kills him (Momiji pushed this particular button a while back, if I’m remembering correctly). But he wants to be there for her in any way he can, because he loves her.

Dammit, Kyo.

Tohru starts crying again, and neither of them are really sure why. Her heart broke a little bit during this episode for Uo and Kureno’s inability to be together, and I think she starts crying because she knows the exact implications of Kyo extending some kindness her way. She knows what’s at stake with him, and she doesn’t want to think about a point where she won’t be able to see him anymore.

How is it we’re only on episode SIXTEEN of this season?! I’ve gone through enough emotions to last at least two years, all in the past two-ish months. Like damn. Fruits Basket does not fuck around when it comes to this stuff.

I couldn’t exactly tell by the title or the voice what next week is going to bring, but if this week had anything to say about it, I’m not done crying over these characters.

Prepare thyselves, friends. This rollercoaster ain’t even CLOSE to ending.

[mintseesaw]

Mad Passion

Pairing: husband!namjoon x reader Genre: smut, fluff, arranged marriage!au Word count: 5.7k Warning: jealousy, possessiveness, mild teasing, unprotected sex

Part 1 | sequel

One of his men said he’s been working in his office at home all day, when you squeezed an information about his location. In some days, he was barely home. Some weeks even spent outside the country for business purposes. So it came a surprise for you to know he’s at home.

Pushing his office door open, you were instantly met by an intense atmosphere, seconded by the booming voice of Namjoon barking instructions to the caller you are unable to identify of. By the sound of his voice and the manner he talks, it could be one of his men. His one hand resting on his hip and his back is facing you, keeping your presence yet unknown to him. Your intention when you came to his office hanging in the air, while calculating your next move. Should you leave and come back later?

Your feet stepping back discretely to create no sound that would make him aware of your presence, or else, he would realize your entrance to his office unannounced. Half scared that he will divert his anger to you.

You were not anticipating his next move. In fact you thought he was too preoccupied from the conversation to even care of moving. Your calculated steps were cut short when he abruptly turns around. He stops mid-sentence at the sight of your presence. His tensed shoulders visibly relaxing. His eyes softening as they lock with your widened ones. His silence didn’t last long, but it was not to speak further with the person on the other end of the line. It was to cut the conversation which seemed to have been going on for longer than you estimated. This time, it was in a much calmer tone, of which his voice still laced with ire with the cause you have no knowledge of.

“Do you need anything, y/n?”

He was curious. You never go to him on your own will, unless if he asks to. When he does, it always comes out as an order. A command that no one will dare say no to. Your attention is always directed to anyone—anything but him. And seeing you here so suddenly piques his curiosity.

“You didnt have to do that, I was about to leave and come back...later.” You spoke, uptight, and your hands fidgeted. His eyes caught it.

Did he make you nervous? You shouldn’t have witnessed him in that state. Among the things about him that he does not want you to see or be aware of, the first on the list is his temper—the untamed beast in him. Now he suddenly finds the need to assure you. That even how angry he can be, never would he lay his hands on you.

Why are you here, again? He recalls you have yet to fill in his curiosity. When was the last time you went to him, again? Was it 2 months ago? When you came to inform him about your decision to go back to the coffee shop you used to work at. Not to mention that it was also the cause of your first serious argument with him. Your decision without consulting him had severely bruised his ego. A wife wants to work at a local coffee shop when your husband could probably be wealthier than all the all the coffee shop owners combined in the city.

He was furious. But his intimidating aura didn’t hinder you to fight back. Of course he has his ways to wring off the reason out of you.

“I just did. Now, do you need anything? Is your card not working?” Concern oddly laced in his voice. You noted.

He gave you the black card, limitless expenses for your needs. If not for his harmless threat which you took in seriously, you wouldn't think of accepting it. Your father gave you one when you went to college. But your will to live independently has you neglecting their financial assistance to your basic needs.

“The black card is not my concern. I didn’t come here just for that.” Your body language— the more he watches it, makes him aggravated the longer you talk in circles, not giving the answer he desires to hear. He took a step forward so that his thighs are pressing against the corner of the desk’s glass surface. He would have gone closer in the absence of it. As your wandering eyes stop at his peering ones, he made sure to leave no trace of emotion in his features, despite having mixed-emotions being with you in the same room.

“Then tell me.” He pressed, growing a little more impatient at your lack of cooperation.

“Your men...the ones who guard me… they harassed my friend.”

That’s it? That’s what made you come to him? A bead of jealousy nurtured through your concern with someone you care about, suddenly enveloping his mind. Your bodyguards are there for the exact same reason. Not only for him to be knowledgeable on your whereabouts, but to protect what solely belongs to him from everyone who threatens to steal you away from him as he’s not always with you to do it himself. The ones closest to you are no exception. They had to keep their distance for their own safety.

“They are protecting you.” Namjoon stated, dangerously calm to believe it is purely casual. He almost wants to shut off the subject and ask you about your day, instead.

When the words went past his lips, slowly comprehending his short statement, your eyes grew wider.

He definitely knew. Everything is reported to him. Every single thing that you do outside under your bodyguards’ watch, he’s full aware of it all. Except when you’re in the vicinity of the mansion.

“Y-You knew?” You stuttered in shock, for you expect the event that occurred just this morning was left unknown to him. You purposely want let him know so you can ask him to change the men in-charge of your security, condemning their inappropriate way of guarding you.

His lips pressed together, if it was to avoid answering your question, you’re not sure. But his silence confirmed it.

“Did y-you tell them to hurt him?”

Violence is not what he ordered for his to do, unless the incident calls for it. What his men did to your friend was not considered violence, he was warned. That you’re not allowed to be touched. Not when you’re legally bind to him. Not ever.

“They are protecting you, y/n.” He insisted, although his composure remains calm and collected, far from what you caught sight of earlier.

“He’s my friend! He’s incapable of hurting me!”

He stood still, his eyes lingers on you, as his lips formed a thin line, having no intention to speak yet. If someone else is treated with his silence and under the scrutiny of his piercing eyes, they would be shaking in fear by now. His thundering voice indicates an imminent adverse, but it is a better option than his silence. Being unable to elicit a reaction from him is the worst kind that can be likened by the calmness of the sky before it devastates the area where a storm lands. By the looks of you now, your head tilted to be able to return his gaze unaffected by his dark stare. He smile inwardly in the guise of the blazing fire of his jealousy, admiring your tough display.

You spoke further amidst his silence, “I didn’t even agree with having bodyguards in the first place.”

“I make the rules here, wife.” He simply reminds you.

His anger is something you wouldn't want to challenge but you have to set your boundaries in this marriage. Although you know, deep in your heart, he’s incapable of violence, him under the influence of his temper is a different story. “Do whatever you want, I don't care. Just...don’t touch my friends, Namjoon.” You stated, mentally shaking away the fear at the thought of being preyed under his fury.

“I cannot promise you that.” A side smirk slowly creeping up in his face, and a shiver ran down your spine from the sight of it.

A captivating man tainted with darkness. Someone you didn't want to get yourself involved with despite the fact that he’s the only man ever elicited a certain emotion within you. If only you were given the option to choose your future, you wouldn’t marry someone like him. Even if you might possibly have unrequited feelings for him.

You swallowed hard.

“Why?” You asked in a breathy whisper.

“I told you, sweetheart, I’m protecting what’s mine.” The endearment left you stunned. He was able to capture it under his scrutiny.

You have no idea how you recovered from your mild flabbergasted state. The next thing you know is you’re opening your mouth to remind him the real score between you and him.

“We both know what kind of marriage we have. There’s no need to stake your claim.” You challenged, feigning bravery with your unwavering stare.

“It doesn’t change the fact that you're my wife.” His smirk didn't falter and it’s severely affecting your agitation.

It was no longer the case when you spoke again. “I may be your wife, but you don’t own me.”

Like a breeze washes over you, you froze as his eyes grew darker piercing through yours, so sharp that you think it could almost hurt you, physically.

“What did you say?” He dangerously drawled, so painfully excruciating. You didnt dare speak again. Too consumed with fear to anger him further.

He strutted slowly, and with his towering height, he was able to close the distance with three long strides. His sudden move surprised you, that it was already too late to step back as he caught both of your arms, making sure to keep you immobile.

“Namjoon...“

You slightly flinched and your head lowering so you wouldn’t meet his dangerous eyes when he dipped his head to whisper right next to your ear marking you through his words alone. “You belong to me.” You didn't know how you gathered the strength to squirm in his captive. To get away from him. Having the obvious advantage, he didn't even budge as you try to push him away.

“You’re not going anywhere.” He stated so casually but in a lingering tone of warning. As if he would do something if you try to disobey him.

Your temporary inability to see his face seems to give you comfort under the severe effect he has from your proximity with him.

Namjoon is too close to your liking. His hand traveled to your cheek, then traces his fingers down your chin to level it up to his gaze. His dark eyes scream danger, but you were left unmoving from his arms. It should have made you fear for your life, for your security, so you should have tried to step back to protect yourself. But his nearness was making you strangely mute.

The sight of him alone activates your senses. He was not your first, but for you to desire someone requires your attraction towards the person. Namjoon is exquisitely attractive, a beautiful man, whom you’ve admire with not only for his physical flawlessness but also for his exceptional intelligence and his soft heart you’ve witnessed with your own eyes.

And right now, the tiny space you have in between is not helping your effort to clear away the wild thoughts running around your head. In fact, it severely adds up to your pooling desire of him. One which has never been satiated after your first and only night with him. The same night you married him in a civil arrangement.

The way his eyes never faltered, raking you all over sensually. He moved his head, burying his face on your neck. Taking in your alluring natural scent. The move alone shoots a sensation right at his length that is hardening the longer you stay this close with him when he can just do anything he wants. Anything. To relieve his long, unsatiated desire inside your deliciously tight core.

Namjoon’s hand loosened its hold on your arm and instead, circled it around your waist which allowed him to pull you further against him. The force of his pull without any kind of resistance from you causes a hard impact on your bodies. His move was fast and calculated, because the moment your chest collided with his, his palms cupped both of your cheeks and crashed his lips to yours. It didn’t prepare you enough, and you were left unresponding for a second before your needle-like strength to repel his deed, to fight your own need, gave in.

Entirely envelope with desire, you remained submissive under his hot kisses. His mouth, sucking and biting and playing with your tongue. It was there. His possessiveness. You can feel it through the manner he takes your mouth, to the way he keeps you close to him.

And your clouded mind is willing to be marked again in any way that he would.

Until you felt something on your stomach. A hard bulge. The proof of his arousal. Suddenly, guilt flicker through you—for what? Namjoon is your husband. Sticking for your conscience, you mustered up all the strength left in you to resist his advances.

“Stop…” It came out a sound of weak muffled against his dominating mouth.

“You don’t want this?” He echoed, tearing his mouth away from your bruised pair of lips just to suck a spot on your neck. The spot he once marked, and bruised it purple on your first night together.

“Why is that so hard to believe...” Namjoon darkly whispered.

Your hand unconsciously went up on his hair, tangling your fingers in between his locks. Your grip was firm but not enough to extract a sensation of pain from his scalp—until he went further down to nuzzle your clothed breast, his other hand squeezing the other that you let out a sound of strangled moan mixture of pain and bliss that your hand aggressively pull his hair.

He left the sensitive mound then went back north to trail kisses on your jaw, chin and on the corner of your lips. His mouth which you crave to touch with your mouth—intentionally avoids your lips.

Your voice croaked breathily as you plea for contact, “Namjoon,”

“You don’t want this, right?” He teased seeing as you’re visibly delirious from his ministrations when he pulled away. Your body feels hot and your limbs—like a jello, that you would have met the marble floor sooner if not only for his firm hold around your waist. His reflex further let your bodies even closer. You didn’t care. But the one thing which you anticipate impatiently is not happening it seems. Namjoon is doing nothing other than keeping you standing on your toes.

“Please,” you couldn't believe you’re hearing yourself beg, barely recognizing your voice.

“Please what, sweetheart?” He murmured against the skin of your throat, nibbling it. You heard him, but his words went past your ear without being comprehended. Too delirious to heed on anything but his kisses. Your eyes are tightly closed, thus, your temporary inability to see made you much more sensitive from your other senses. Especially your sense of touch.

His mere contact reminds you he’s this close to you, trailing hot kisses from your neck and shoulder. Excitement bubbles up in you when his hand traveled down the waistband of your pants, skimming inside so he can palm you through your wet underwear. To feel your arousal. The simple act left you even more desperate than you already are.

You want more of him, and you want him to touch more of you.

“How come you’re soaking, sweetheart?” He taunted sensually.

No reply came out of your mouth, throwing your head back crying instead, as you felt him thumbing your sensitive nub. One of your hands flew to his shoulder over his back to find something to cling on. The other tightening their grip on his hair.

His assault didn't stop as he continued to strum your bare clit and you’re not even sure how long you’ll last before reaching the end from having no sexual activity since you married him.

To your delight, Namjoon inserted two long fingers into your leaking hole which made you cry from the abrupt entrance. Stretching your walls enough to make you writhe in his captive of which is initially to keep you intact on the ground. He didn't give you time to adjust as he fingers started stroking deep inside you.

The sight in front of him is what he’s been fantasizing to do to you. To make you feel good...and more.

When he curled his fingers inside your hole sucking him tight, a particular moan emitted past your beautiful, luscious lips. His name left your mouth repeatedly.

A fucking music to his ears. His dick jerking at the sound alone, suffocating his intensifying arousal that the painful restriction of his slacks is getting too difficult to ignore. He suddenly withdrew his hand.

And then all the sensation stops. You suck a deep breath, surprised and deprived at the lost of contact. A sound of protest came past your throat, too desperate for a proper release. Your eyes snapped open, wanting to know why he briefly stopped. Ready to beg for more.

You couldn't see his face, as he has it buried in your neck.

“Mine.” He claimed. His ragged breathing is doing nothing but amplifies your hunger. He had you all weak and motionless when all he did is kiss you and touch you down there.

He grinded his bulge against your center which you gasped in return. “You want it, my sweet little slut?” He taunted playfully, tormenting you further. His mouth found the shell of your ear, biting it gently.

“Yes,” You responded in a breathy whisper.

“You’re mine.” He went further. A strong arm circled your waist, silently taking you with him as he strutted forward, your feeble strength easily allowed him to push you into the long tuxedo couch far across his furnished table. He spun you around and coaxed you down so that you’re kneeled on the cushion, your arms instinctively planted on top of the inside back for support, anticipating his move. He remains where he stood, right behind you.

“Namjoon.” Whining, disregarding his claim earlier when he seems to have no plan to take you yet.

“Right, sweetheart?” He attempted, fishing for your submission. You felt his fingers hooked on the thin waistband of your panties, then harshly pulled it together with your pajama bottoms. His moves are precise when he nudge your knees up one after the other using his hand to fully remove the material off of your feet while you’re slightly trembling from the prolonged anticipation. His hand went in between your ajar thighs to part them further, caressing the inside of your thighs and teasing you more.

The new position gives you no opportunity to see see him clearly. And even though he is close, by the way he has his hands are rubbing softly on the skin near your center, it was not enough. You want to watch him—observe his features while you two are intimately connected.

”Did you say something, baby?”

What? You were uncertain what he’s referring to.

And then he pressed his hips behind you, grinding his crotch into your bare, leaking core. His hand sneaking past for your stomach, flicking your clit in a circular motion.

“Oh fuck yes yes.” You moaned, not minding how desperate you sound.

“Oh my—“ His thumb rubbing your clit mercilessly. Two long digits from his unused hand once again found its way inside you, “Namjoon!”

You became too sensitive that you’re sure you can come any second, now.

Your high-pitched voice echoed through the room when he withdrew his hand for the second time of the night. Crying out, “No, please… please…” Attempting to peer behind your shoulders to look at him, his hand on your shoulder firmly kept you in place restricting you from doing so.

Then you heard a belt buckling. That was the only your senses allowed you to know and then his hand is back on your skin. This time it was on your waist that he is clasping tight, keeping you securely close to him.

“You want to cum, y/n?” He asked so suddenly. You didn't know why he still needs to wring it out of you when the mere sight of you already provides the answer.

You vigorously nodded. “Yes, please.” If it weren’t for your clouded mind, you wouldn’t be so vocal about your desire towards him.

The cushion beneath your knees dipped a little as he placed his foot up near your right leg. Your core clenched and your head thrown back when he unexpectedly rubbed his hard length into your center. Sliding it painfully slow. Wanting more, wanting it where you ache the most. Please...

“Then who do you belong to?”

“Namjoon, please.” You. The intention to verbalize the word was restricted down your throat. Choking, when you felt the head of his cock at your entrance. He stilled when you left no respond from his question.

“Answer me!” He demanded dangerously.

You gave him what he wants to hear, hoping that he would give in.

“I’m yours, only yours—fuck!” The moment Namjoon heard the magic word, he bucked his hips, ramming his dick inside you in a ruthless pace making you scream from the excruciating intrusion. Your back arching, your eyes rolling from the back of your head from the severe stimulation. Too much of what you can take. His hard and thick length filling you so full, being extremely stretched that the pleasure was overpowered by pain. But you didn’t mind. It has been too long since he last fucked you that you can take anything that he offers. On the other hand, the sounds pouring from your mouth indicates how good you feel despite the pain.

Your thighs trembling from the pressure of keeping you in your position, your body quivering from the endless pleasure as Namjoon brought you to your peak.

“Fuck!” He growled, “You’re gripping me so tight, sweetheart.”

His hands firmly planted on your waist and the faster he thrusts into you the tighter his fingers dig onto your skin that you’re certain they will leave a fingerprint on your skin. Meeting you halfway as his hands on your waist pull you back to him every time he slides off emptying your walls then quickly fill you again, stretching your walls deliciously.

He kept his pace fast and hard.

“Nam— shit! Oh God!” You moaned, loudly.

If there is energy left in your body, it probably lies in your hands and knees trying to keep yourself up as he pounds you relentlessly.

“That good, huh?” He said in between his thrusts, giving your behind a faint slap.

He feels good, knowing where to stroke, and when to go fast making your walls involuntarily convulse around his thick shaft. It hasn’t been long, but you knew you’re already close, you could feel the familiar building up at the pit of your stomach and spreading rapidly to your abdomen.

“Please…I-I’m…” You stammered, feeling too lost for words that you couldn’t find the the strength to finish your statement.

“You’re what, baby?” His tone is controlled, concealing any hint of desire in his voice.

His strokes were fast and deep. You could feel it coming down on you.

“Namjoon, please!” You beg deliriously for him to keep going as you feel it approaching.

The way his palms dug deeper on both of your sides indicates that he knows you’re close. His thrusts went abnormally faster that you stopped breathing, mouth ajar as you suck in oxygen but never releasing a breath out.

Despite feeling too lost from the intense pleasure, his sounds laced with pleasure didn’t escape your senses. His steady strokes on your walls and the grunts coming past his mouth pushing you further in the brink.

“Namjoon!” You whined before a scream ripped out of you as an intense orgasm hits you. The remaining strength you have suddenly evaporating as pleasurable waves wash through you, making your head fall forward on the inside back cushion.

He just fucked you. In his office. Is it a regular thing for him to do it here? It shouldn’t matter, because for you, what you two physically shared gives you something. Another memory to recall of. Especially when you’re yearning for him, wishing that things are different. That he sees you as someone he’s attracted to or someone he has genuine feeling with. And not someone he’s obligated to tend to, someone he can fuck only because it’s his right.

Your clenching insides stutter his strokes impedes him a little to go even deeper than intended, but nonetheless your convulsing muscles has put him on edge. Your walls choking his length tightly is enough to feel himself nearing the end. Few thrusts in and out after your orgasm and he’s already coming undone moaning your name for the first time and spilling his seed deep in your core. Wishing that you’re not on birth control so he could possibly make you conceive.

Feeling him intimately— it’s different. And it doesn’t matter if it’s not the same for him. You’re not asking for his feelings to reciprocate yours. For now, you can be complacent despite having no assurance that your emotions will be secured in the future.

Bearing your last memory, was when he urged you to lie down and wiped you clean, not realizing that darkness is already enveloping your senses. Unaware of what has occured after that.

Unknown to you, Namjoon carried you towards your shared bedroom.

When he came back to you after he disposed the used tissue, he expected anything but your figure sleeping soundly on the couch, with your head lying uncomfortably on its arm. If only the couch is appropriate to be slept on, he would let you sleep on it while he watches you across his desk.

When he has placed you on the mattress, covering your body up until your shoulders with the thick cover, he discarded his work attire which he was unable to do so when he has ravished you earlier.

His hunger has been long overdue that even the sense of unbuttoning his dress shirt was disregarded as he could wait no less than a moment.

He proceeded to the large bed beside you after putting on a sweatpants. To watch you for a while before sleeping.

There was never a night that passes without him watching you while you sleep. It was always you who sleeps first and he makes sure you are when he enters the room late at night. His days and nights are always spent at work, intentionally. He permits no time for himself to see you or talk to you longer than the simple greetings, because your presence —he craves for it, despite showing no emotions every time you’re around. The least he could do is to pretend.

It was four years ago—the first time he saw you. At a coffee shop. He knew there was something extraordinary with you aside from the fact that you seemed unfit to be there despite wearing the same uniform like the rest of the baristas. Out of place. To be behind the counter, taking orders from strangers, customers.

He was infatuated, even though the only thing he knows about you is your name and the coffee shop you work at. He has all the connections and sources to dig information about you, but he restricted himself from touching your life—even as having a glimpse of it. For several months—ten months to be precise he complacently watch you from afar. Stopping by on the cafe for a few minutes on his way to work. Time passes so quickly because when you’re gone, nowhere in sight inside the establishment, months seemed only days. He has the means to search for you, but it would be useless. He wouldn’t have you, anyway. Someone like him does not deserve to have you in his life.

He was only infatuated. That was what he kept reminding himself of whenever an image of you regularly visits his mind. It was nothing but a mere admiration.

None of his wildest dreams of you have prepared him for what was offered to him years after. Merging of companies he does not need, thus, all that attempted to offer him have been turned down without taking a first look on the proposals. 

But one among all those stood out.

It was you having his last name— if he accepts your father’s business deal.

The infatuation has gradually nurtured the longer he has you in his life. Yet, until now, he’s not making a move that could, perhaps, get you to like him. Or at least, will make you comfortable around him.

What did he to deserve this life? To have all the things his money could afford, and to have the woman of his dreams. Although the latter holds the much more relevance than the other.

He scooted closer so he could reach for your hair and cheeks. Stroking light caresses as not to wake you up. You look so peaceful, so pure, like an angel, and small compared to his figure. He was rough. There was no he couldn’t have physically hurt you. If there was any indication of any pain you’ve felt while he was ravishing you raw, he’s certain he didn’t see or hear one. You took all of it, responding only with pure bliss.

His heart skipped a beat when you stirred, whispering his name as your brows furrowed like you’re calling for him. Although out of conscious, you have found him through your searching hand and snuggle deeper into him burying your face further in his chest.

He stilled in his position for a second, before hesitantly circling his arms around you.What would you think when you wake up with him cuddling you like this? He has no idea. And he shook his conscience away, embracing the chance to touch you. Twice of which he only got when he initiated an intimacy with you. His lips pressed softly against the top of your head before closing his eyes shut.

You woke up at the unfamiliar sound of a phone ringing. It must be his phone. Your intention to stir, to turn to the other side halted from something hard and warm wrapped on your waist. The object is warm and seems like a human—is it...him?

The blaring noise rings your ears as it was kept unanswered. Your eyes fluttered open, momentarily seeing nothing, as your nose is flushed against his warm neck. Tilting your head, you recognized the familiar room. The master’s bedroom. Your last memory was in his office. How you got here remains a mystery to you, yet. You wiggled a little in an attempt to pry his limbs off of you.

And while you attempted to move, you heard him groaned. Is he awake? Your cheeks heat up when you realized he’s half naked. However, you made no move to push him away. Although your head is now on the pillow next to his, while your body remains locked in his arms..

You crane your neck to see his face. With his eyes closed, he reached out for the device in his bedside table as if he knew where he placed it before he slept last night.

He pressed the phone right on his ear. His eyes traveled to your figure the moment he peeled them open. A flicker of surprise hinted in his eyes before it disappears.

You heard him spoke briefly then put his phone back to where he got it from. It was unclear what it was about and why he seemed to abruptly cut the call short as your mind is still clouded from being forcefully woken up by the loud ringing of his phone.

His bare chest giving you a silent reminder about what happened last night. You’re even scared to discover whether he wears something to cover his bottom or it’s just the duvet doing the job. You hoped it’s the former.

“Good morning.” He greeted softly with his morning voice. Raspy and low.

You didn’t know how to act like you normally used to, especially after what happened last night. The things you did last night—there’s one thing to sum it up. You’re desperate to be fucked. It gets much clearer now, further recalling all the details that occured. The tinted crimson visible on your cheeks never fading. You’re ashamed, does his perception of you change now?

“Good morning, Namjoon.” You replied shyly.

Hesitantly, you spared him a glance and created a little movement to give him a signal that you’re getting up. His arm that’s securely wrapped over your back fell on the bed to give way.

When you have stood up and is on your way towards the bathroom, he spoke not to your expectation, “You have classes today, right?”

“Yeah.” You turn on your shoulders to peer at him. He was already sat up on the edge of bed. A sigh of relief past your lips silently as you notice a fabric poking through the duvet that is covering his lower body.

“I’ll be working all day here in my office.” He casually stated.

Your eyebrows forming a line in confusion. Why is he sharing this information all of a sudden?

“Okay? That’s...good I g-guess.”

He chuckled, “What I mean to say is, maybe, you want to go out tonight?”

Your eyes remains at him, “Like...dinner?” You trailed.

“Yeah, if you’d like that then we’ll have dinner.” He nodded.

“Uh...I’m fine with that, if you’re not busy?”

He gave you a smile one that showed his dimples.

You clearly don’t understand what just happened. He asked you out? He never did that before. What has changed?

Hope you enjoyed reading the first part.

mintseesaw © 2019