#life would be so much better if i wasn’t so experienced in having friends exclude me and ultimately abandon me

[digitaldiseas3]

hate when i feel excluded by my friends for no realll reason and then i’m like oh maybe i’m just hormonal 😁 and then i realize it’s the wrong time of the month so it’s not hormones. then i’m like oh maybe its the 9pm rule! 😁 and then i realize the sun hasn’t set yet and it’s still early evening. and then i’m like oh maybe i’m just stressed! 😁 and then i realize i’ve already gotten my major stressors out of the way and i have nothing to be anxious about. like wow okay so this is just actually how i feel. there’s no driving force that would instantly qualify this feeling as irrational. i just feel like this tonight and maybe the reason i feel this way is Actually something. c o o l

[gor3sigil]

Before starting T, when I socially transitionned, I was surrounded by radical feminists who saw masculinity as gross and inherently evil, something to avoid, something to make fun of, something to destroy. The other transmascs in my friend group, sometimes, told me that they didn’t knew if they really were non-binary or if they just were scared shitless of saying “I am a man”. Because they saw this as a betrayal to their younger self who had been SAd and abused.

I saw many of my masc friends and trans men around me hate themselves, not outing themselves as men because it would imply so so much, it was like opening the Pandora Box. Even when we were just together, talking about our masculinity was always coated with bits like “I know we’re the privileged ones but…”, “I don’t want to sound like I have it bad but…”, “Women obviously have it worse, but last time…” and we were talking about terrible traumas we experienced while taking all the precautions in the world in the case the walls were a crowd of people in disguise waiting to get us if we didn’t downplay the violence we faced, or like crying and being upset and being traumatized and afraid and scared and to say it out loud would make us throw up the needles we were forced to swallow every second of every day living in our skin.

Most of us weren’t on T yet, some of us were catcalled every day and harassed in the streets or in abusive relationships nobody seemed to care to help them get out of because they were “strong enough” to do it by themselves.

I was using the gender swap face app and cried for ours when I saw my father looking back at me through the screen. The idea of transforming, of shedding into a body that would deprive me of love, tenderness, and safety, was absolutely terrifying. I knew I couldn’t stay in this body any longer because it wasn’t mine, but I also knew that if I was going to look like my dad, my brother, my abusers, it would be so much worse.

5 years later and I’m almost 2 years on T, and almost 2 months post top surgery.

I ditched my previous group of friends. I was bullied out of my local trans community. But let me tell you how free I am.

I was scared that T would break my singing voice: it made it sound more alive than ever.

I was scared that T would make me less attractive: it made me find myself hot for the first time in my life.

I was scared that T would make me gain weight: it did. But the weight I put on is not the weight I used to put on by binging and eating my body until I forgot that it even existed. It’s the weight of my body belonging to me, little by little. The wolf hunger for life.

I won’t tell you the same story I see everywhere, the one that goes “I started going to the gym 8 times a week, I put on some muscles, I started a diet and now I look like an action film actor”, in fact if you took pictures of me from 5 years ago vs now I’d just have more acne, I’d have longer hair and still look like I don’t know what to do with myself when I take selfies.

But the sparkle in my eyes, my smile, tell the whole story way better than this long ass stream of words could ever.

I want to say some things that I wish someone told me before starting medically transitionning.

It’s okay to take your time. It’s your body, it’s your journey, if you don’t feel comfortable taking full doses and want to go slow, the only voice you need to listen to is your own. Do what feels right.

If you feel overwhelmed, it’s okay to take a break, it’s okay to ask for support.

Trans people are holy. Everyone is. You didn’t lose your angel wings when you came out because you want to be masculine. You are not excluded from the joy of existence, from being proud of yourself, from being sad, from being scared, from being angry. The emotions and feelings you allowed yourself to feel while processing what you experienced when you grew up as a girl and was seen as a woman are still as valid as before. Nobody can take that from you. If someone tries to, don’t let them.

It’s perfectly normal to grieve some things you were and had before you started to transition, like your high soprano voice or even your chest. Hatching is painful. You can find comfort in things that don’t feel right, so making the decision to change can be incredibly scary and weird and you deserve to be heard and supported through this. Wanting top surgery doesn’t make the surgery less intense, less terrifying, less painful to recover from. When it becomes too much you have the right to take a break and take some deep breaths before going on.

You don’t have to have a radical, 180° change for your transition to be acceptable or valid or worthy of praise. Look at how far you’ve come already. It doesn’t have to show, you’re not made to be a spectacle, you’re human and it is your journey.

Oh, and last thing, you know when some people say “Oh this trans person has to grow out of the cringy phase where you think that you can write essays about being trans or transitionning or just their experience because it’s weird” ? If you ever hear this or see this online, remember all the people whose writing you read and, even if they were not professional writers, helped you more than any theorists did ? If you want to write, do it. It won’t be a waste. It can help people. Or it won’t, and even then, if it helped you, that’s enough.

Love every of my trans siblings, take care of yourselves. You deserve the world.

[easypeasylindyvesey]

I Think it’s Strange We Never Knew: Jimmy Vesey x fem!OC

Summary: After the unforeseen death of Abby’s boyfriend, one of the NHL’s star defenseman and her teammate, she severely struggles with managing her grief. She confides in Jimmy Vesey, who is not only another teammate of hers, but is one of the very few people she has a strong friendship with. That is until that night and the days that followed. Does this life-altering news change the trajectory of their personal perceptions of each other? Or does it entail a chance of crossing boundaries for the risk of moving on?

Word Count (excluding title and heading): 34,491 (whoops)

*(General) Warnings: (foul) language, mentions/discussion of death, suicide attempt (brief, closed door description), eventual confession of feelings, grief, panic attack(s), angst, eventual sexual implications but no smut, age gap

*Note: This story takes place in the future. Abby is 24-25 and Jimmy is 33-35.

APRIL 2027- part 1 (warnings: mention/discussions of death, grief, panic attack, angst, (foul) language)

Burnsville, Minnesota is a beautiful city. So much architecture, so many buildings, there’s literally everything you could have ever imagined. It’s only 15 miles from Minneapolis, so there’s even a greater opportunity to explore the sights. Only I wasn’t here for that.

I stand in front of the hotel mirror in my black halter top and black dress, with my black shoes, and my black purse, and my black, charred heart. Today is Ryan’s wake, and tomorrow is the funeral. His family wanted to wait until the season ended to arrange services so there would be more availability. The flight here did not feel real in any circumstance. God, I wish I could’ve boarded that plane with better reason.

I’ve been to my fair share of wakes and funerals. Actually, that’s a lie. Probably only 2 each. It’s because I’ve never experienced that much death in my life, that much mourning. Not until today. I mean, what are you supposed to converse about with people besides the dead body in front of you? Oh, I forgot. Ryan will be in an open casket. That just makes me even more terrified. I know that reaction is not going to go over well. Luckily, the wake is going to be broken up into groups of people so that the room is not completely bombarded, with family and close friends given the first look.

I never mentioned how terrible my sleep schedule has been these past few weeks. I’m going to bed around midnight, some nights close to 3:00AM, because all I can think about is him. His laugh. His voice. His hands and how they’d gently interlock with mine or hold my face. His continuous yet ridiculous rants. Fucking everything about him. I still can’t shake it. It doesn’t help that I’m living with another man.

Living with Jimmy has not been incredibly challenging. We don’t tend to speak much throughout the day. He knows I want to stay grounded in my solitude, but he always says he’s here if I need him. The sentiment is appreciated, but he needs to stop thinking I’m gonna fall apart in one motion. That already happened. It’s just disintegrating a lot slower than I thought it would. I pass the time by sitting out on the private balcony in my room. Listening to the city sounds somewhat helps, and I can get some fresh air. Maybe look for him in the sky. I haven’t found an earthly sign that he’s trying to communicate with me yet, but I’ll be damned to find one.

The car ride to the wake can be described using my favorite word: quiet. The two of us are sitting in the front of a rental Mercedes Benz, and I gotta say that this car is incredibly sleek. The seats are comfortable, there’s a lot of space, and it’s fast. It’s really cool, to be honest with you. Jimmy’s driving, again, because when does he not in this case? I don’t think he seems to mind it. He’s wearing a light blue button down and black dress pants with matching shoes. He’s gently holding onto the wheel as if he makes too abrupt of a movement, he’s gonna ruin the car somehow. Another thing that I can finally enjoy about the silence is that he’s stopped giving me those secret glances. I think he’s taken the long-awaited hint. For a man with a Harvard degree, you’d think he’d pick up on it faster.

We pull into the funeral home parking lot and back in to a reserved spot. The car gets put in park and Jimmy leans back in his seat, unbuckling his seatbelt before letting out a quick sigh. I see him look up at the moonroof and then back down at the wheel. I shift in my seat to look at him. His face is flushed and his right hand is shaking in its place on the overhead compartment.

“What is it?” I say quietly. I don’t want to freak him out. I already know he is.

He lets out another sigh, only this time it’s ragged. “It’s just a lot,” he breathes.

Now it’s my turn to give him my best puppy dog eyes. “I know,” I reply. “We can stay here for a few minutes. It doesn’t officially start till 1 anyway.”

“Y-Yeah, yeah, that’d be good,” he says, reaching into the cupholder to retrieve his water. I watch him open the cap and swallow 4 times before putting it back on. He’s nervous. But he’s acted so calm prior.

I stare out the main window. It’s been drizzling on and off so far today. I guess Mother Nature really wants to bring the appropriate weather on this type of occasion. At least it’s not pouring, or thundering, or anything like that. I would hate for the sky to have a meltdown today. I’d rather have it come in waves. Slow progression can still anticipate the worst.

I notice strangers making their way into the entrance of the funeral home. That’s when it starts to feel real. They don’t look familiar to me in any way. For all I know, they’re friends and extended family of Ryan’s that I never got the chance to meet, though he talked about them to no end. It was nice being able to hear about people in his life. I guess they meant a lot to him too.

I hear the engine turn off before Jimmy lightly taps my elbow, causing me to flinch. “Sorry,” he says in some form of a hushed whisper.

“It’s okay,” I mutter.

“You ready to go?” he responds.

“Not really,” I reply, “but I don’t think I’ll ever be.”

Jimmy opens up the drivers side door, so I take it as a sign to open up mine. I shut it behind me and he locks the Benz before we walk across the parking lot. The chill in the air did not help my nerves. In fact, it only made my heart feel colder. Currently, there’s no light that would bring it back to life.

He opens the door and lets me go in front of him before shutting it. We make our way to the reception area where we sign in. We’re gestured to a smaller room, I guess to wait in, before we actually go see Ryan. With the exception of Ryan’s family, they’ve only limited 8 guests at a time with 20-25 minute intervals. Given how many doors were closed, we’d be waiting a little while.

Of course the room we walked into was where the team stood, Lavi, the rest of the coaching staff, the equipment manager, everybody. I gotta say, they did a good job at organizing who goes in each room. I would rather be in a room full of familiarity than mystery.

My heart wrenches seeing the team. I haven’t seen them since my birthday celebration. I never ended up going to the mandatory team meetings, never responded in the group chat, never reached out individually. I couldn’t bring myself to do it. But now I’m faced with those incorrect choices when they all stop and look at me.

“Hi,” I say meekly. “It’s, uh, it’s good to see all of you. Sorry I haven’t contacted any of you until now.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Lavi replies. “We’re just glad everyone’s here together.”

I nod. “Yeah, uh, me too. Do we know how long until we go in?”

“There’s three rooms of Ryan’s friends and family ahead of us, so I’d say about an hour,” Chris says. “We tried getting in one of those rooms, but I guess they’re putting family first.”

I scoff. “We’re his family,” I mutter. “Bullshit.”

I make my way to an unoccupied chair over near the bar area and sit down to rest my already aching feet. I gotta say the rooms were set up really nicely. There were couches and chairs and a mini TV with a little fridge. It was spacious, but with everyone crammed in this room, I felt claustrophobic. I take a deep breath to control my bubbling frustration.

Quickly, everyone forms little groups to converse with. Yet, here I am on the outside looking in. I don’t think they’re avoiding me intently, more just giving me space. Again, I respect it, but it’s not like I’m gonna throw a hissy fit in this very moment. Or maybe it’s because they’ll know I won’t want to talk. So I pass the time fidgeting with my bracelet. Yeah, I chose to wear it. I guess I can see the ‘R’ as a reminder that he’ll always be linked to me in some sort of way, even if it’s no longer physical.

I watch Jimmy caught up in a conversation with Vinny and Laffy. He seems a lot more relaxed now. His face has returned to a normal color and his hands stopped shaking. Instead, they’re just swaying at his sides. I notice his watch reflect onto the ceiling light. He cracks that tight-lipped smile. It’s crooked, and it’s awkward, but it’s what makes him, well, him. It eases me to know he doesn’t feel restricted the way he did a little bit ago. He doesn’t have anything to release his anxiety, but for all I know, it’s pent-up inside getting ready to burst at any given moment. Jimmy’s always been calm, cool, and collected. There are times where I’ve seen him visibly frustrated and have a little bit of an attitude, but it would last for a short time before he returned to being even-tempered. He’s not the type of guy to yell and raise his voice when he’s upset. You can talk about anything with him and he’ll always listen before responding. He barely interrupts when someone talks and is always looking for a way to help if the person wants it. Sometimes, I really want to pick at his brain, wonder what he thinks, wonder what his true perceptions are of someone. He’s got the words, he’s got the awareness, and he’s got the right way on how to deliver the message. However, I can’t help but think if he has one person that he’s able to talk to about anything and everything. Given the current reality, I’m afraid he’s suppressing himself so that he can be there for others. All I know is that I would not want to be there when, and if, he blows up. I’d be scared.

I keep my distance from him for now. He seems content. I don’t want to disturb it. I feel that I’ve disturbed his life already anyway.

I stand up from the chair and make my way to a more comfortable looking seat, AKA the couch. It’s white with gold specs. It’s really fancy for a funeral home, I must say. I’m afraid to even scuff it up with my shoes, so I refrain from crossing my legs. I just sit there like a frozen statue, waiting for one of my worst nightmares to come true.

Thirty minutes have passed, and conversation is still flowing with the occasional light laughs and quick transition in topics. I’m staring at the door now, waiting for him to walk in, tell everyone it was all a trick and he faked everybody out. I’ll kill him myself before he’d even get the chance to admit it.

[kittiesjournal]

My Autistic Journey

It is typical to hear from autistic people that they grew up knowing that they were weird, different and out of place with other individuals and in social groups, and I am not excluded from that experience, however I wasn't the most aware of it as I grew up. I thought my differences were simply because I had different interests, hobbies and personality, not that my excessive “shyness”, restrictive and repetitive behaviours and sensory preferences weren’t something that would magically disappear when I got older. I remember having fantasies of how popular I would be when I got to high school… I was so terribly wrong. 

I won't lie, my memory sucks, I have a lot of trouble remembering autistic traits I had experienced in my early childhood. I find myself struggling to remember a lot of things from growing up unless I had paid special attention to those moments in time. However, the first moment I realised that I could be autistic was in Year 10, I spent so much time researching every single symptom I could. This revelation sparked a grand understanding of myself and I finally felt as if I could see myself better. The mirror before was always cloudy but now, I could now clearly see the glimmer in my eyes; a part of my true self. 

Things began to fall into place, this was the reason I felt so alien to the world around me, why I felt like I had never belonged anywhere. The year prior to my revelation; the dreaded year 9, was the worst year in my schooling. With an increase in my anxiety and depression, being bullied and being incredibly disconnected from my friend group at the time, it is no shock to why it was the worst. My social confidence and my skills are definitely lacking due to being autistic however the way i was treated within my old friend group did not help. I was constantly shut down and complained about when I would infodump about my interests, and excluded frequently. Now briefly, i would like to mention a funny little tale of my primary school years;

If I had a dollar for every time i was abandoned by my friends during break times after I had been in the bathroom, then  not being able to find them and ending up crying to my sister, I would have $2, which isn’t a lot but it's weird that it happened twice.

This, in my high school experience, transformed into being excluded from group plans and told things like “omg sorry we forgot to add you to the group chat - we totally will though”. Loneliness was my truest friend in that group. Although I had put on a mask constantly in hopes to be treated the same as the individuals in the group, I ended up, during break times, simply not talking. There would be maybe a couple words in response to questions but that was the first instance in my life my anxiety and uncomfortability caused me to become frequently non (or at least low) verbal. 

In response to my experiences with that friend group, I found myself repressing who I was and what I loved. I am still to this day afraid of info-dumping and often apologise after I catch myself doing it. I mask so much it instead feels fake when I am being my autistic self,  I believe I lost touch with myself. I felt so disconnected from people that it became hard to feel like I was truly friends with anyone. Many nights were spent crying because I am not normal, not like everyone else. I begged the universe to let me be normal. But of course, because im autistic, my brain just wasn’t built ‘normal’, I don’t understand how to socialise, I don’t understand non-verbal communications and don’t even get me started with understanding emotions. I could not understand why I couldn’t bond with people the same way they did with each other and often questioned why everyone was closer with each other than I could ever experience. I know that even now, I don’t think I could ever feel and experience friendship the way everyone does, and I missed out on that crucial part of life. It's like I'm on a different plane of existence, akin to the artificial intelligence in media that other characters may care for but never in the same, human way they bond with each other. Some nights I still cry. Some days I'm still extremely lonely.

In spite of all my troubles and loneliness I was lucky to find some light, in my later years of schooling and to the present time, I have some pretty amazing friends and I am slowly learning how to exist in friendships while being my more authentic autistic self. Weirdly enough, these friends are all likely to be Neurodivergent (i helped them realise) and i guess that makes it easier. Even though I have these amazing friends, I'm still learning how to be myself around them and I still at times feel disconnected - not knowing how to socialise and my other autistic struggles don’t just disappear. There have been many occurrences where I have completely fumbled and messed up in these friendships but they understand me better than any other friends I have had.

Some quick acknowledgements of two important people in my life;

I have had one consistent friend since year 4; my best friend and I am grateful for you, that you’ve been by my side while I've been figuring all of this out. Also I'm sorry that you’ve had to coincide with my autistic self since we were 10 (sorry i made you reenact frozen everyday).

And in addition to friendships, romantic relationships are another terrifying territory. I don’t know the right things to say, how often to talk and how to keep conversations flowing, flirting is a mystery, and I don't know how to show my feelings and at times it may seem harder to tell if I care. But, I promise I will. To my girlfriend, my dearest, I'm sorry and thank you for being kind and patient, for always supporting and encouraging me in all my ‘quirkiness’.

These experiences, my mistakes, help me grow everyday and due to the extensive support of those around me I felt encouraged and confident enough to seek a diagnosis for my autism. However my journey of getting a diagnosis was extremely rocky. The first time I had brought up my thoughts on me being autistic to my mother I was met with a “why” and silence, the second time she asked if I wanted to try and get a diagnosis - I obviously said yes. This began my experience with the company Autism SA. I completed a self-referral application to get an appointment, I was sent paperwork and forms to fill and send back, and was told I would have to be on the waiting list for 18 months. In the end I didn't have to wait the full 18 months, I got my appointment, I went in at 9:30am on the 6th of February and that afternoon I realised this was one of the worst days of my life. They told me I didn't meet the criteria (in the feedback report I received on a later date they wrote that I met none of the criteria - the biggest lie I have ever heard). The appointment was fraudulent, I felt so uncomfortable and anxious because this was something I had never done before with complete strangers, so I masked. They sat me in a room constructed for young children, just me and the speech pathologist and she asked me questions, but nothing too in depth about my autistic experiences. It was obvious she only knew autism as the basic textbook version of male-aligned traits, it was obvious that she; a neurotypical, allistic individual would never understand me. I have many regrets that day, i should have said more about my traits and experiences, shown a list of them, let myself not mask for once in my damn life -  maybe then things would have been different and i would be sitting here writing about how great it is to be able to receive help and be understood. Instead, that afternoon, I cried and cried and cried. For the first time in a while I cried in my mothers arms, I think in that moment she truly understood the autistic me. I had never felt so invalidated and unheard in my life, i felt more depressed and alone than i ever felt just existing as an autistic person in this unfit world. I still feel that way anytime i think about that day for too long, it's hard to write this all down. Autism SA told me it was most likely “just anxiety”, like what many AFAB individuals are told when they are actually autistic, as if my anxiety doesn’t stem from my autistic traits and struggles. 

This terrible moment in my life was of course not the end, life flows on and I had to as well- so I wrote a 5000 word document on all of my autistic traits to prove them wrong (i sent it to the psychologist who had been in charge of my assessment). 

After getting out the frustration and needing to feel validated for my experience, I am in a better state of mind. I read Chloé Hayden’s book Different, Not Less (and watched so many of her YouTube videos) and I felt seen, I felt inspired. So now, in my present self, I am learning to be my truest self, my special interests are accepted; I am creating art everyday and now I'm writing too. I let myself stim in around others and in public, i don't ignore my sensory struggles and instead i make accommodations and seek support for them. I can notice when I am burnt out and I take care of myself when I am. There has been so much I have struggled with in terms of my autism but I can write about those another time, for now this is one step. Now I am and always will be honest about who I am. I am autistic.

[merryfortune]

a picture worth a thousand words

Written for the Rarest of Rare Pairs Fic-a-Thon on Dreamwidth

Prompt: Any, Any/Any - Flowers in your hair

Title: a picture worth a thousand words

Ship: Asumi/Nodoka

Fandom: Healin’ Good Pretty Cure

Rating: T

Word Count: 5,997

Warning: Underage

Tags: Age Difference, Fluff and Angst, Pining, Crushes, One-Sided Feelings, Dates, Implied Chronic Illness, Oblivious Fuurin Asumi

   “Thank you so much, Nodoka, for inviting Latte and I to this festival.” Asumi said. 

   “Aww, Asumi, you are too sweet, you're a part of the family these days. How could we have a Hanadera day without you?” Nodoka replied, laughing slightly.

   Forcibly, even.

   She hadn’t even had a Hanadera day out since she was a child, before she became sick. So, she felt a little bit nervous. She was feeling a lot, lot better these days and her parents were cautiously optimistic that they could have days like this. Day trips in the next town over and things like that but the what if still negged in the back of their heads - and even hers.

   But that worry that her health would decline suddenly and ruin the fun wasn’t what was causing Nodoka to already peter out. There was something else that weighed on her mind, not just her illness. Something that regards Asumi…

   Her parents had even, privately, asked the night before, “Are you sure you want to bring Asumi along?”

   The answer was, of course, a resounding yes.

   Nodoka adored Asumi, after all. She loved her company and felt so safe around her, they of course shared the entwined secrets and destinies of being Pretty Cures together but there was something else. It wasn’t just that Nodoka adored Asumi, that she loved her, she liked her in another way, as more than an honorary member of the family or a beloved friend.

   Nodoka had a crush on Asumi and that was a bit of a problem.

   She wasn’t sure when it had started but it was undeniable that it had culminated in a crush. The murmur of her heart, the faint blush in her cheeks, the way that being around Asumi - from eating meals together, doing laundry or fighting monsters, it didn’t matter - made everything more magical for Nodoka. She couldn’t help herself and she often got in tangled messes of, was it right for her to feel this way?

   In a certain vein, she and Asumi were a lot alike: they were both experiencing the world together for the first time. Nodoka had spent so much time with no one at her bedside, staring out into the hospital courtyard, wishing for more company than what the nurses could provide. She was missing milestone after milestone, her elementary diploma, the photos in the spring. Her first friendship, her first crush and Asumi, a sylph breathed into existence by a power far grander and holier than anything else…

   Nodoka wanted to show Asumi, and by extension herself, all the thrills and spills of real life that she had been excluded from by virtue of not being well enough for it. She wanted to hold hands, get muddy and messy, and laugh and cry and just… be.

   Asumi was much the same way as she seemed like such an airhead to people who assumed she was an adult but really, she was a trick of the light. One day, Asumi would have to return to the Healing Garden, when evil had been cured and vanquished but until that day, Nodoka wanted to spend as much time with her as possible, to make sure she had so many pleasant memories to go home with.

   She imagined one of them wouldn’t be a confession but what if?

   No, she shouldn’t get overeager. And yet…

  “So, what are your plans for today, Asumi?” Nodoka’s Mother asked cheerily. “Thank you for joining us but you are more than welcome to explore on your own if you like. We always make you babysit Nodoka, after all, so if you want some time on your own, feel free.”

   “Oh, very kind of you.” Asumi said and she glanced at Nodoka in the back seat to her left. Latte in between them in a pet carrier. She giggled. “But it's my pleasure. I’m more than happy to keep looking after Nodoka.” They both knew it was the other way around with them anyway.

   “Are you sure?” Nodoka’s Mum asked, worried.

   “Yeah, especially because Nodoka,” her Father stretched his hands without them unwrapping the wheel, “if you want to have some time to explore alone, too, I think you are more than old enough to have a short wander alone.” He sounded silly, he knew he had peers who trusted their children a decade or less younger to be alone but theirs were healthier and haler than Nodoka so…

   “Oh my.” Nodoka gasped. “I-I’m happy to spend time with all of you. I-I’d feel lonely otherwise.”

   “Ah, yes, of course.” her Mother laughed awkwardly. She should have realised…

   There was a moment of silence before the car turned right with her Father piping up, “Ah, we’re here.”

   “Yay.” Nodoka smiled.

   Though parking was at a premium. It was a busy day today apparently with the morning markets and lovely spring weather. The car inched along until they finally found somewhere to park but once stopped, they were all able to get out and have a stretch.

   “Aah, I feel alive.” Nodoka told herself as she loosened up her muscles tight and sore for sitting so long.

   She looked into the face of a cool, vernal wind that caressed over the area. From the carpark, she could see dozens upon dozens of colourful stalls either side the small river that through the town over in two. The riverbanks were gorgeous with freshly sprung cherry blossoms and other flowers. People overflowed and some were even walking dogs. The hustle and bustle had a charming ordinance to it with all the movement.

   “Where do you want to go first?” her Mother asked and stepped closer. “There’s also an artist’s museum nearby, too, if you want money to visit.”

   “I’d like that, please, Mum.” Nodoka chirped.

   Her Mother gave her a little extra pocket money to top Nodoka up and that was that. She linked arms with her husband and Latte was let out of her crate so now, they were off to do whatever they liked. They could trawl the markets for hidden treasures, visit the art gallery, or admire the spring bounty of the river.

   For Nodoka, she decided she wanted to visit the museum first as she would hate to overspend at the markets and miss out on it. Her parents, hand in hand, decided they would go be a lovey-dovey couple together down on the riverbanks and greet the newly bloomed cherry blossoms. Asumi seemed undecided, her eyes skating down either aisle of the markets on both sides of the river.

   “Would you like to come with me?” Nodoka asked, her heart skipping a beat. “I want to go see the artworks first.”

   It was silly and she knew it was silly but Nodoka simply could not help herself. Some teeny tiny part of her brain wanted to consider this a first date with Asumi. It wasn’t. It really wasn’t and yet, the flutter in her heart, the sweat in her palms. This place was picture perfect for lovebirds, just take her parents for example and if one needed more, there were plenty in a brief headcount of the marketplace. 

   So, Nodoka held onto this crush of hers. She wouldn’t dare breathe a word but she would savour it just in case because it was an important experience to them both, a breath of fresh air beyond the humdrum and monster fighting they were used to in Sukoyaka City.

   “Sounds good to me.” Asumi replied and Latte yipped in agreement.

   Though Latte would prove a problem once they arrived at the threshold of the artist’s museum on the other side of the car park. 

   The museum was situated at the top of a hill. A gravel path wound from the bottom of it and fed from the carpark. In between was a luscious, overgrown garden that gave the feeling of having been protected woodland. The trees matched the ones that lined the nearby riverbank immaculately but the pond, with its fountain, was very obviously human installed. As was the wooden log seating and skipping stone steps that Nodoka had fun hopping as long as they made it to the top.

   There was a courtyard with a dining set at the top of the hill - and so was a sign, No dogs allowed with the exception of service dogs. The blinding white sign with red logo was blatantly obvious set amongst the gardening and even naturalistic house turned into the museum. 

   “Oh dear.” Asumi observed. “I think Latte and I will just wait outside whilst you enjoy Nodoka.”

   Nodoka’s mouth squirmed with the beginnings of a pout. It's not like this would have been a date but having one on one time with Asumi, in somewhere as mystical as an art museum, it would have been nice. She didn’t want to be the only one to experience it but she put on a brave face.

   “I promise I won’t be long.” she chirped.

   “No, please, take your time. Don’t rush on our account.” Asumi assured her.

   “Okay, Asumi.” Nodoka backed down.

   Asumi farewelled her and sat down at the dining set. There appeared to be a cafe conjoined to the museum and a waitress kindly set down water for her and organised a bowl for Latte. That was a little relieving for Nodoka, knowing they would be cared for and entertained by people watching, but not quite good enough as she stepped into the refrigerator cold museum for herself.

   She was barraged by reception, paid for her ticket and guide book then let into the stage where the art could be seen. She read the story of the artist: quite the tale of reviving a dying talent in dyeing. She resonated with it, somewhat, as the artist described himself as being frail and sickly as a child, his patience for his craft rewarded well after his forties and now, his former home had been turned into a museum.

   He turned kimonos into his canvas, portraying a story of seasons which was niche and observant. Every single one plotted the course of a year and all the variations in the season, both minute and macro. Nodoka could have walked in circles, utterly mesmerised by the tens of kimonos on display and a little heartbroken that the artist never completed his set but even so, she adored them. They were beautiful and the ones from his vernal body of work were her favourite.

evolution of it. How his colours and motifs in the dyed fabric thawed from winter and eventually played with overbearing warmth with summer but there was one in particular that she stopped and stared at longer than all.

   She wondered what it would be like, to wear this kimono, to feel the sun on her back and drink tea with Asumi. The mishmash of twilight, with purple skies and greenery underneath, the windchimes and the mountain… All of it reminded Nodoka of her ill-advised crush the more she studied it for symbolism of her own life rather than the artist’s. These were men’s costumes and yet… It would be majestic, she had no doubt as she committed the kimono to memory as photography was not allowed in this hallowed hall.

   Eventually, after forty-five minutes or so, Nodoka decided that she had had her fill of arts and culture. She left feeling dizzy, that peculiar and almost effervescent feeling that resembled leaving a cinema after sitting through a long and beautiful movie. Although, stepping directly into a sunbeam and warmer air likely didn’t help either since the inside of the gallery had been such an ice box.

   “Woah.” Nodoka mumbled, she put her hand in front of her face to reduce the glare.

   Asumi waved her down from across the courtyard with Latte yipping and bouncing at her feet. Nodoka smiled and that fugue state wore off as she darted across the cobblestone courtyard littered with pale, pink petals. They were everywhere.

   “Did you enjoy?” Asumi asked.

   “Yes, I did.” Nodoka excitedly replied.

   “I’m glad,” Asumi replied as she began to get up, she ravelled Latte’s leash around her hand, “what was your favourite artwork?”

   They began to walk off together, down the hill and almost through the foliage of the wooded garden. Nodoka giggled, as if she didn’t have the most straightforward answer.

   “Gosh, so hard to say, they were all so beautiful, but…” Nodoka’s voice trailed off.

   When she closed her eyes, she could still see the sparkling gold embroidery of the kimono that reminded her of her feelings for Asumi. The way it conveyed shifting sceneries and swaying leaves, the purple skies and verdant grasses underneath it. 

   “But?” Asumi prompted her as they passed by the carpark again.

   “My favourite was called Windchime and depicted a mountainside from the artist’s home, framing it with his decking, with a windchime blowing in the tiniest corner of the kimono.” Nodoka explained.

   “Sounds pretty.” Asumi agreed.

   “It was.” Nodoka murmured.

   They walked a little further, making small talk until Asumi’s tummy growled unexpectedly.

   “I had an iced chocolate whilst waiting for you,” she laughed embarrassedly, “but now I think I need to eat something for real.”

   “Mm, mm, i’m hungry, too.” Nodoka said. “What are you in the mood for?”

   “Oh, good question.” Asumi said as her eyes went wider than her stomach as she looked upon the line-up of stalls they had made their way to.

   Her timing had to be immaculate as they were on the cusp of a nice busy district of food stalls. Takoyaki, yakisoba, waffles and dorayaki, fried chicken and more. The sights and smells and sounds of this busy area were mouthwateringly good but did leave both Nodoka and Asumi with choice paralysis. 

   So, they better have a good look before deciding.

   The two, with Latte in tow, strolled up and down the various food stalls, marvelling at the way cake batter was spun or how grilled meat sizzled on the hotplate. It looked all too delectable but oddly affordable, too, if they wanted, they could have a feast. Everything that looked good looked even better on pennies and dimed, it seemed.

   In the end, Asumi ended up with a box of takeaway yakisoba smothered in brown sauce and crispy underneath and Nodoka got a skewer of chicken for herself but more importantly, a bag of taiyaki for dessert. They stepped out of the way of people, allowing the deluges to pass, coming and going either way and ate with gusto.

   “This yakisoba is so good!” Asumi squealed. 

   She had gone for the supersized helping and was already halfway through it. She had a smudge or two of sauce on the corner of her cheek and a circle of spring onion stuck to her bottom lip. She glanced at Nodoka with a smile who held onto her chicken skewer with the best bits nibbled off.

   “Yeah, mine’s good, too but I’m saving room for dessert.” Nodoka said as she offered a serviette to Asumi.

   “Oh? Do I have something on my face?” Asumi sounded surprised.

   “Only a little.” Nodoka sheepishly replied.

   Asumi accepted the serviette and Nodoka pointed on her face where the sauce was on Asumi’s. She poked and prodded along, flirting with colder and warmer. It was honestly annoying! Nodoka just wished that she could reach up and dab it clean on Asumi’s behalf but that seemed like crossing the line. Especially since that was such a cliche in many a slice-of-life J-Drama, surely.

   Luckily, she got it in the end and wiped it away. Only for it to not matter in the end as she ate more out of her takeaway container. Nodoka let her stomach settle, however, before opening her lukewarm bag of crispy, cakey, custard-y treats. 

   It had been so hard to decide between the little old lady’s four flavours on offer: classic red bean, smooth chocolate, sweet strawberry, and vanilla custard. In the end, Nodoka went with the custard flavoured filling for her little taiyaki fish since the mild flavour of it would make anyone who hadn’t tried it before happy and she was hoping to share some with Asumi.

   When Asumi finished her food, she closed the box and smacked her lips together contentedly, “Aah, that was the good stuff.”

   “You did look like you enjoyed it.” Nodoka said. “Dad would even say you were saving some for later, haha.”

   Asumi laughed, recalling a couple instances where Nodoka’s Father had playfully admonished her in that way too over dinner. She covered her mouth with her fingers, sort of checking to make sure she didn’t need to wipe anything away again.

   “Anyways,” Nodoka awkwardly brought up, “did you want some taiyaki to go with it? They’re only small.”

   “Oh, yes, please.” Asumi replied.

   “Great.” Nodoka chirped.

   She smiled and her heart skipped a beat. A fantasy in the back of her mind got away faster than she was actually able to articulate her nervous system with the instructions of opening the bag and distributing taiyaki. All she could think about was a little, rose-coloured hued scene of feeding Asumi the taiyaki and her swooning, thanking her for such mindful choices of filling.

   “H-Here you go.” Nodoka stammered as she still had that vision of herself feeding Asumi the taiyaki.

   She knew, obviously, that her little daydream was just that. A dream. But the reality was more mundane, and worse off, than her reverie. Asumi accepted the taiyaki with a sunshiny smile and promptly fed it to Latte instead of herself.

   “Eh?” Nodoka’s thoughts got caught in her throat as her eyes bugged.

   She watched as Latte bounced up and snatched the treat from Asumi’s fingers. Latte looked so happy and her tail wagged. She chowed down on it with great enthusiasm and Asumi admired how cute she looked when she was happy. Nodoka was too stunned to speak, flabbergasted. Were magical talking dogs even allowed to eat taiyaki? Her stomach went queasy thinking about the possibilities if the answer was no but fingers crossed that Asumi knew better than her.

   Even though Asumi needed things like knives and forks or shampoo and conditioner explained to her…. Riiiiiight.

   “Thank you for offering, that made Latte so happy. No wonder you are a Pretty Cure.” Asumi praised her.

   “Y-Yeah, no worries.” Nodoka replied.

   “Wuff, wuff.” Latte chimed in, no doubt being polite in her own secret language of the Healing Garden.

   Well… As long as someone enjoyed it, Nodoka supposed. Even if that’s very much not what she was intending nor imagining but Latte sounded happy, Asumi looked happy, so that was good enough for her. 

   “Let’s, um, let’s go and look at all the other stalls now, if that’s alright.” Nodoka awkwardly suggested.

   “Yes, that would be wonderful.” Asumi agreed.

   They tucked their litter away in Nodoka’s reusable tote bag and went along their merry way. They passed by Nodoka’s parents who were on their way to visit the art museum and assured them all, there were plenty of darling treasures ahead for those with their eyes peeled. That made Nodoka worry for her wallet’s health - as well as her parents as she saw that her mother had a brand new door stopper underneath her arm. It was handmade from scrapped fabrics and charmingly styled in the shape of a duck.

   Still, further along from the food stalls, they gave way to bagged, perishable goods like hard candies and cakes to the more of the handicrafts. They saw children’s clothes for sale and jewellery. They even passed by the stall which was making those handmade door stoppers amongst other items like tea towels and washcloths. At the very end of the loop of stalls and the little bridge across the river, they saw more of the woodworkers and antiques.

   It was truly a flea market out this way now. Odds and ends and all sorts of treasures in between, Nodoka marvelled at them all and as did Asumi. They all saw all sorts of trinkets which were begging to go home with them but from what they saw, there was something that stuck out in Nodoka’s mind especially.

   She didn’t want for much, after all. She had spent so long in a hospital that she felt guilty for wanting more than she could pack in a suitcase. Digital books were more her friend over physical paperbacks, for example. She preferred to dress light to pack light. Even though she had moved back into a room she could completely and totally call her own, Nodoka felt apprehensive about decorating it with more than perishable goods like flowers.

   Even so, for all her angst, there was something Nodoka had passed by and thought would make a good souvenir, so utterly perfect for her apprehensions towards materialism: a set of ribbons. Cute, shiny, silky ribbons that could be used for all sorts of things from hair accessories to being the final touch on a gift. She liked the idea of purchasing some ribbons, not only for herself but her friends, too. Hinata and Chiyu would likely enjoy them and Asumi as well, she was sure.

   So she and Asumi looped back around now that they had seen everything on display at the bazaar. Asumi, having limited funds and even more of a reason than Nodoka to be adverse to hoarding, hadn’t seen anything that caught her eye for more than a few seconds of appreciative window shopping. Still, she was more than happy to accompany Nodoka as they wandered to double back on the stalls they had passed to find the one that Nodoka was after.

   Nodoka bounced happily on her heels in front of the stall once they had found it. The stall belonged to a local paper and stationary goods shop, it helped them move out of trend stock and promote their business on the main street of the town.

   “Welcome back, did something catch your eye?” 

   “Yes, thank you, I would like to take these ones, please.” Nodoka said.

   She pointed out the multi-pack of ribbons in packaging, four reels of solid coloured ribbon were bundled together, perfect for sewing or scrapbooking, Nodoka would think. It was surrounded by other things, too, which looked interesting like ink stamps and washi tape and a pair of scissors with plush-looking safety handles. Upon seeing the scissors, Nodoka had a flash of a realisation.

   “Actually, I’d like this one too.” she told the middle-aged woman and pointed to the scissors.

   “Yes, of course,” she replied with a smile, “and do you need a bag? No extra charge.”

   “Thank you, I’d appreciate it.” Nodoka replied.

   The stall-holder put away the ribbons and the scissors inside of a crisp paper bag for Nodoka. Nodoka, in turn, gave the lady her money and she got some change in return. All in all, a wonderful little exchange that had the woman kindly waving Nodoka and Asumi off.

   Nodoka was all smiles as she walked side by side with Asumi. Latte trotted along too on her leash and so was very surprised when Nodoka ducked to the side of the road to pause and ergo, Asumi had to as well.

   “Before we go too far.” Nodoka piped up. “I want to give you something, if you don’t mind.”

   Her heart started to tremble. This was date behaviour, wasn’t it? Walking around, enjoying the sun and food and the pleasant weather. To top it off with a gift, well, that got Nodoka’s ever precocious heart a little bit more excited than usual as she opened up her bag. 

   She tore open the packet of ribbons and brandished her scissors. She, of course, chose the purple of the quartet to cut a strip: everywhere she went, she swore she saw the colours pink, blue, yellow, and purple as a quartet. She measured haphazardly and cut once what she thought would be a reasonable length.

   “Here you go.” Nodoka said. “I think it would look cute in your hair.”

   She handed Asumi the ribbon and Asumi admired it. She rubbed it between her fingers and smiled softly. Nodoka took a breath but could feel her heart stop.

   “Thank you, Nodoka,” she replied, “but…”

   Eh? But? Nodoka blinked stiffly.

   “I think I would rather use it to tie up Latte’s hair.” Asumi said. 

   “Oh, um, no go ahead. Be my guest, it's your gift, use it how you see fit.” Nodoka quickly assured her.

   Even if her words were contrary to her feelings. As long as Asumi was happy and had purpose for her gift, that was enough for her. Her heart began to thump, upset, in her chest despite her thoughts.

   “Do you mind cutting it in half again?” Asumi asked and held the ribbon up. After all, it was too long for a dog.

   “Not at all.” Nodoka replied through gritted teeth and a big smile.

   She cut the ribbon again and it flopped limply in two either side of the scissor’s blades. Asumi smiled cheerily and crouched down. She tied up the extra long hair on Latte’s ears with the ribbons, manoeuvring around the ribbons already festooning her but now she looked even more festive for the festival. Asumi cooed elatedly over the gift but it only went to make Nodoka feel bittersweet.

   “Thank you, Nodoka, what a thoughtful gift.” Asumi said as she reared back to her full height. “Are you going to give Hinata and Chiyu your ribbons too?”

   “Yup.” Nodoka confirmed.

   “You're such a thoughtful girl.” Asumi praised her.

   And not only did that make her gift worth it for Nodoka, so did what Asumi did next.

   She petted the top of Nodoka’s head. Her hair was warmed by the sun and Nodoka blushed slightly, staring with her crush as blatant as the nose on her face yet Asumi seemed oblivious.

   “Let’s go walk along the river, it’s the only thing we haven’t looked at yet.” Asumi suggested.

   “Yes, let’s, the whole festival is for the cherry blossom viewing after all.” Nodoka agreed, feeling light-headed.

   She let Asumi walk a few steps ahead. Latte led the charge and Nodoka followed along, quickly catching up as they edged along the stalls and around the corner to the bridge. Either side of the bridge were stairwells down into the greenery that laced the sides of the river.

   Down here was where the magic was and so, the largest number of people. It was far busier here than in the markets and that was saying something. Still, entering the deluge, especially under such pretty scenery, it was breathtaking for both Nodoka and Asumi as they joined this crowd to admire and view the riverside cherry blossoms.

   The river was narrow but bustling. It flowed quickly and was full of life. Frogs croaked on the rocky outcrops and ducks swam followed by ducklings. Koi fish darted about underneath the water which was pristine. It was almost see-through, obscured only by the plant life such as grasses and algae. It was beautiful and incredibly inviting for not only Nodoka and Asumi but many other tourists, too, eager to enjoy its beauty.

   The pair trod carefully as earth underfoot was soft and loamy but ultimately stable. A path was already beat down by everyone else before them as evidenced by the various shoeprints. Around them, along the cavalry of cherry blossoms, tree roots peeked through the ground, too, here and there and were scattered with flower petals which drifted on the breeze. Overhead, the foliage and flowers were all they could see with little deltas of bright blue sky occasionally.

   Nodoka breathed in deep and she was able to detect the subtle perfume of the cherry blossoms. It was wonderful. Especially mixed with the delectable, wafting scents of the nearby food stalls and the pleasantry of the breeze. When she paused, she savoured it all. The sights, the sounds, and of course, the company.

   It was quite the lovers lane down here, she noticed with a scant blush. She watched couples take pictures with the trees or hold each other's hands. It made her envious as she glanced at Asumi and was struck by the most powerful wave of her crush yet.

  Oh my…

   Asumi was beautiful. She was ephemeral, a trick of the light, a sylph made of the wind and of memories no one remembered. But she looked so perfect in the shafts of sunbeams coming through the cherry blossom trees, she was being dusted with their petals, too. The wind played with her hair adorably as she had that key vacant look in her eyes.

   Her mind was so unknowable, so far away at times. Nodoka held her breath and felt her heart race. She could feel a teenage impulse bubble up. What if now was the time? To let her know? But Nodoka allowed such impulses to wash over here. She knew that, just like the wind whom she had an affinity with, Asumi would one day pass her by, slipping through her fingers so there was no use prolonging such inevitability with feelings as trivial as a lovesick crush.

   Spending time with her was more than enough, Nodoka contented herself as she admired Asumi from afar as enough petals got stuck in her hair to form a crown upon her head. 

   “Asumi.” Nodoka piped up through the ordinance of her thoughts. “Can I take your picture?”

   A picture was worth a thousand words after all. They lasted longer than just looking or so the saying sort of went. It would be something she could hold onto for as long as she liked. Even forever if she wanted. Nodoka could even make it her lock screen on her phone.

   “Of course.” Asumi replied. 

   Nodoka smiled.

   She produced her phone from the depths of her tote bag and she awkwardly wielded it. She wasn’t anywhere near the skill level as Hinata, a selfie aficionado and content creator-in-training, but it was good enough. The scuff would make it all the more precious as a memento as Nodoka focused the lens and did her best to channel a professional photographer.

   Asumi’s figure warped and distorted on the phone screen. Nodoka watched her through her phone’s camera until it settled and she did her best to get Asumi’s most flattering angles. Her face at the three-quarter position, her gaze elsewhere, she was showered by petals and amongst the cherry blossom trees as a backdrop with Latte at her ankles and then.

   Snap.

   Nodoka knew she had taken the perfect photo as a souvenir. She had gotten Asumi’s likeness as a full body and, of course, just her as a portrait. Nodoka exhaled and it felt good. She could feel nervousness dissipate from her body upon that exhale. 

   “Would you like to see it?” Nodoka asked.

   “Of course.” Asumi replied.

   Nodoka nodded and Asumi drew in closer, she clustered to Nodoka’s side and peered over her shoulder. Nodoka showed Asumi one of the full body shots with Latte smiling a doggy smile at the bottom of her skirt. They both looked perfect.

   “Aah, thank you.” Asumi said. “It looks great.”

   “I’m glad.” Nodoka chirped.

   But before either of them could coo over the photo further or chat about something else, there was a crackle in the air. Someone, somewhere nearby, had a microphone and wanted everyone’s attention.

   The speaker laughed and it turned to static, “Thank you everyone for coming to our festival and making it quite the success for our town. Now, please enjoy some music from our community band to round out our afternoon.”

   The microphone went silent but in its place, a rising crescendo of brass and wind instruments began. They played sequences from traditional Japanese music but mixed in use of western elements, too. It was eclectic yet somehow perfect for the sunny day. 

   Nodoka’s phone buzzed and clicked the push notification from the text message. It was from her mother and she was suggesting that they meet back at the car in ten minutes, so they could arrive home in time for a reasonable dinner. She replied that she, Asumi, and Latte would see them soon but first. Just a few more minutes underneath the cherry blossom trees with the music in full swing.

   It could not have been more splendid.

   But all good things had to come to an end.

   “Are you ready to go home, Asumi?” Nodoka asked.

   “Yes, I’m tired. I think I will sleep well tonight.” Asumi replied and she emphasised her point with both a sigh and stretch.

   Latte barked irritably and Asumi laughed.

   “Latte is looking forward to not having to wear the leash anymore.” Asumi translated.

   Nodoka crouched down and patted the top of Latte’s head, “Don’t worry, we’ll be home before you know it.” she assured the puppy.

   She raised herself back up again and Asumi glanced around, seemingly have forgotten which way the car park was. Nodoka giggled to herself and took the lead. They passed by the cherry blossoms for the last time and they were even more breathtaking upon goodbye.

  Asumi, Nodoka, and her parents reconvened at the carpark shortly later, tuckered out from quite the day at the markets. As the presenter had said, the festival had been a success and they could attest to that as it had been so much fun. 

   Nodoka’s Dad opened up the boot, stored away their various bags and seemed rather tired. Contentedly tired, of course, but still tired. The boot closed with a thunk and the doors swung out with the click of the car keys’ centre button.

   “Did you two have fun?” Nodoka’s Mother asked as she sat in the driver’s seat this time.

   “Yes, lot’s.” Nodoka chirped. “I think I enjoyed the museum best of all but the music after lunch was lovely, too.”

   “I enjoyed the museum too, that artist was a very talented man.” her Mother agreed.

   “Mm, indeed,” her Father hummed, “the intricacies of how he planned his artworks, clothes do not seem that different to architecture to me now.”

   His wife laughed at him, silently chiding him for always thinking of work even on his day off. Though, through her giggles, she piped up, “What about you Asumi?”

   “It was fantastic. I always love spending time with Nodoka and Latte.” she replied.

   She finished fiddling with the clasp on Latte’s crate. Latte yipped inside and Asumi cooed. The car revved slightly.

   “Uh, oops, is everyone buckled up?” Nodoka’s Mother asked.

   “Not yet, not Asumi.” Nodoka pointed out and she acted without thinking.

   Forgive her, she was a girl with a crush after all. Fizzy with her feelings and the private knowledge that she could revel in that without it going anywhere. Especially with someone as unlucky and oblivious as Asumi.

   She leaned across and pushed her arm past Latte’s crate. That made things even more difficult but Nodoka was able to get Asumi’s seat belt’s metal hook to click into place inside of its plastic holder. Asumi was surprised but Nodoka was so deft, she couldn’t complain.

   “Am now.” Asumi said.

   “That’s good.” Nodoka’s Mother replied.

   “Let’s rock and roll.” her Father added.

   Nodoka’s Mother reversed out of their place in the car park carefully. Nodoka leaned to the side so she could better see out the window and farewell this magical marketplace. She set her hands down either side of her, holding onto the plushy foam of the backseat and glanced at Asumi from her peripherals, over Latte’s crate that jittered with motions of the moving car.

   Today had been a really good day. Was it a truly date with Asumi? No, not quite, if at all but she couldn’t have been happier. Her heart felt full, her eyes were sleepy, and she had plenty of memories and laughter to take home with her. All of it to stew with how enamoured she was with Asumi who was nodding off in the seat opposite to her.

[mostoin]

He picked up the poppies Jimmy had strung together before giving up. “Need help with this? Name’s Scott.”

Jimmy looked at him in confusion for a second. “Jimmy.” “Good to meet you, Jimmy!” His fingers were smoothly and weaving the poppies he had plucked. “See just like this, wrap it around the first flower, behind its own flower and voilà!” Scott handed it back to Jimmy. “You try, avian boy.” He took the crown, and plucked a flower next to him, trying his best to weave it among the others, but failing a few times before proceeding when Scott put his hand over Jimmy’s guiding their moves. After successfully adding two flowers, Scott removed his hand and leant back, simply looking at Jimmy and the horizon covered in poppies, and the sun setting into them.

“But what are you sitting here for?” Jimmy held back his answer, before shrugging. “Wasting time, I guess.” “Hmm.” Jimmy fingers worked on the crown, having found a rhythm while he spoke with Scott. “What about you then? Since you ´do not live in a human village´?”

“Let’s just say that I don’t live in a human village uhm… anymore.” He chuckled dryly. “I am from the color village, across the hills, but let’s just say I left. On an adventure you know.” Jimmy froze for a moment, on an adventure. Jimmy could remember when he went on adventures, back when his wings where new and fully-functional. “Have you… experienced anything interesting? On your adventures?”

“I have seen a pretty, avian sitting alone in the sunset weaving a flower crown. I would count that as quite interesting.”

The compliment was seemingly too much for Jimmy, he wasn’t exactly used to them after all. He folded his ear-wings back out from his hair half-way covering his face, causing Scott to let out a laugh.

Afterwards they sat in silence until the crown had been finished, at least if you exclude Scott’s joyful humming, and when it was Jimmy let out a proud exclaim. Holding it forward to show it of. “Yes, Gem will be so proud!”

Scott tilted his head, “Gem? Who is that?” Jimmy smiled, turning towards him, placing the  crown in Scott's hair. "Here, you helped me finish it, so you get to wear it." "Oh, am I beautiful?" "Very." Then they laughed, they laughed and laid down beside each other in the poppies.

"So, who is Gem?" “My friend, she taught me, or tried to teach, me how to make a flower crown. or tried. She is always wearing one so, that's why."

They laid in silence for a moment before Jim got up, turning back to Scott. “It’s getting dark, I better head back home.” Scott’s face lit up with excitement. “To the isles? Is there um… any chance I could come?” It took a moment for the question to get through to him, but when he did his face turned red and he stepped back. “What?” His reaction made Scott laugh,  “Because I’m adventuring! I don’t have a place to stay.” “I…”

Jimmy knew he wouldn’t be able to carry another person, for Peril he’s wings could barely carry himself. But Scott had seemed so… he had so enjoyed getting to know him. Scott sounded brave and enthusiastic and so… in love with the world, with life. No matter what it was he had left behind in the color-village. Jimmy didn’t want to disappoint him, didn’t want to reveal to him just how useless he was as an avian and as a person.

He pressed wings close onto his back, covering the misshapen one with his healthy. Scott seemed to notice his reaction. Because his face also changed to a more worried expression. Jimmy stepped back, “I... I’m sorry, I can’t.” He looked away, seeing Scott get up as well out the corner of his eye.

“You can… If you need a place to stay, I’m sure you can stay with gem. She owns a little shop in the edge of Loré village, it’s named ´Faun finds´. But the village takes a while to get to from here.”

Scott furrowed his brown, muttering the name of the shop under his breath. “She is a faun, yes. She drives the shop with her brother, just say you know me they will let you stay.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah sure, thank you. Same place tomorrow?” Even though the question surprised him, it did made him smile. This being, this brave, happy adventurer wanted to spend time with him. Somehow that made him a little less mad at the fact that he couldn’t be among the other avians.

“Nah, I will be visiting the village anyway, no need for you to track out here.” They exchanged a smile, and a goodbye. Jim watched as Scott turned around and walked away towards the village disappearing among the poppies. Making sure he was out of side before spreading his wings. Quickly running his hand over the ruffled feathers on his damaged wing, he was in need of a preening, before setting of and flying uneasily up to the isles landing by his hut, looking out over the isles, seeing the town square pavilion and the upbroken main line street.

He smiled to the dying sun. Maybe this encounter, this blue-haired adventurer, was the start of something new.

Illustration for 'The Canary Icarus' - Chapter 2

[thranduel]

i really do think romantic byler and platonic elmike is better and healthier for all the characters and it would be so adorable and here’s why

mike and el just don’t work well together in a romantic relationship to me at all for many reasons (they can’t be themselves around each other, they lie to each other, they pretend to be people they’re not, they become so consumed with each other that they forget about people around them and exclude them, they don’t have private little talks where they can tell the truth, etc.) but i think their friendship would be so strong and beautiful, and i can imagine el would be so supportive of them and even a little bit protective of will. like if she finds out mike does something to upset will, she would put him in his place for sure lol. when mike and el need advice they could go to each other and i feel like they would actually be able to be themselves if they’re not in a relationship. they don’t have to try to be cheesy or lovey dovey. they can just be who they are and have fun and i honestly think that’s what they both need, especially el. just look how she was the happiest she had ever been when she was shopping with max and discovering herself. no one was telling her what to do and she wasn’t rushed into that friendship, she chose to go to max and she got closer to her at her own pace. the romance with mike after a week of knowing him was way too quick and unnecessary, especially after she had just escaped the lab she was raised in. and i just really don’t like how mike constantly refers to her as “his superhero” and depends on her so much and romanticises it, especially in the monologue. that’s not all she is and she doesn’t want to hear that all the time. in the car monologue with will, mike even admitted that he felt like it was dumb luck that superman landed on his doorstep and it just sounds like the only reason he became so fascinated with her was because she had powers and then he felt lucky because he got her attention and he never had that with any other girls. obviously he loves her for who she is too, there’s no doubt about it, but i think he’s obsessed with the idea of dating a superhero and that’s what’s strange to me. it’s like he feels cooler and better about himself for being in a relationship with someone with powers and i just don’t think that’s fair to el because she’s so much more than that. and the only reason why he let her stay was because he found out the bad guys were after her and then discovered she had powers. it wasn’t love at first sight and it wasn’t because of her personality, because he barely knew anything about her and they had barely talked. i don’t know, the whole thing is just messy to me and i think they would be so much better as friends and it would be really sweet to see that side of their relationship develop

i think mike and will in a romantic relationship would be beautiful and work well because they’ve known each other most of their lives, they know each other better than anyone else, they can be themselves when they’re with each other, they’re always on the same page, they have experienced similar struggles all their life, they share the same interests and they can give each other what the other needs in a relationship. will has always needed mike (he even said it in the car monologue) and finds comfort in him because he’s his safe place, and mike has always been a protector who has always looked out for will from the moment he saw him sitting alone on the swingset. and doing things like that for people makes mike feel happy and worth something, and will also feels happy and worth something because he’s getting the love and acceptance he deserves. after hearing that car monologue, we know that mike is insecure with who he is and wants to be that type of person for someone and will admitted that’s exactly what he needs. not only that, but that scene also showed us will looking out for mike and protecting him, which i found really beautiful because usually it’s always mike protecting will. but in that scene, will hid his own feelings and used eleven’s name to cover it up so that he could help his best friend’s relationship even though he didn’t have to do that at all. when he saw mike was upset, that’s when he decided to show him the painting. even though it was supposed to be his own special moment, he did whatever he could to make mike feel better about himself even if it meant hurting himself in the process. will was protecting mike in that scene, and even though it was absolutely heartbreaking, it was beautiful in a way because it shows us how much mike means to will. i truly think they do bring the best out in each other and we see it in every scene where they’re alone together. i know mike hasn’t been great recently but i’m really hoping that it’s all because he has internalised homophobia and repressed feelings, and that one day he’ll realise the car monologue and painting was all about will’s feelings. i want him to know that the speech about being the heart was from will and he meant every word he said, because mike has always been his heart. i hope that makes him finally realise and accept his own feelings and will’s feelings for him, and then they can be happy together, because this makes the most sense for the characters and overall story and it would be one of the most beautiful relationships in television.

[utilitycaster]

Wizard Breakdown Tracker #3, episode 133

Greetings and salutations to the exercise I have set upon myself, which is to say deciding the relative mental stability of Wizard NPCs who have been subjected to the Mighty Nein. My intent is to do this at least until Trent Ikithon has fucked off this mortal coil and/or been thoroughly deposed and humiliated.

As a reminder Caleb Widogast is a member of the Mighty Nein and a PC and therefore excluded from these calculations. Wizards who haven’t been seen or heard from lately and about whom I don’t have anything funny to say about will not get a full blurb, but as they re-enter the main narrative so will they re-enter the list. Currently, this is the Essek Thelyss Show ft. Trent and the Volstruckers with guest appearances by Yussa and Allura.

Currently sidelined: Oremid Hass, Known Gem Wizard Hotsauce Lutefisk (I am going to reuse this stupid joke name for him until it doesn’t make me laugh at my own joke anymore, which will probably be never), Pumat Sol (who I hope is having a great day), Ludinus Da’leth (who I hope is not but in true laissez-faire rat bastard form, probably is).

Vess D wasn’t there/morning time in Eiselcross or at her job or anywhere/they snuck in and took her life/and we noticed that her spellbook’s gone and that she’s covered in red eyes.

Trent Ikithon: Okay with the caveat that it’s been a very long time since I saw the entire movie and our only update is Artagan taking a moment from his busy schedule of traveling the globe in the direction of the sun such that he is always technically day-drinking to tell Jester that Trent’s biding his time, I’m getting real Disney Hunchback of Notre Dame Frollo vibes. Except instead of Catholicism and lust, it’s nationalism and an unquenchable thirst for power and control, and also he does not feel guilty in the slightest. He’s not at Hellfire levels yet but he will get there and I am slightly disappointed that due to the constraints of a D&D game we do not get an even more fucked up version of the song Hellfire.

Conclusion: 6/10. Slowly stepping it up. Also here’s the great thing: while we know Caleb is going to come after him next, he doesn’t, and the Nein didn’t tell any world governments about the threat of the city unless you count the Tal’Dorei Council via Allura, which means for all intents and purposes they just disappeared into Eiselcross...except Trent also knows Caleb disappeared for five or six years once before and reports of his death were greatly exaggerated. If Caleb weren’t dedicated to the noble goal of ending the Volstrucker program ASAP, he could just chill for a year or so and then pull a really stellar Surprise Bitch move and maybe just get Trent’s heart to explode.

Essek Thelyss: He got a good night’s trance and weird physical affection from a giant ape Caleb and he was healed by Caduceus and he had a serious conversation with the first true peer and one of the first friends he’s ever known about how high-level wizardry may not necessarily corrupt absolutely. And, of course, soup. I mean they are about to head into a terrible battle but he’s at full health and spells and he’s a valued member of the team and his friends love him SO MUCH.

Conclusion: 5/10. There is a distinction between a breakdown and being in a very high pressure situation, and he got some nice moments of respite this week. With that said do I think that post-battle, should he survive (HE BETTER) a whole lot of anxiety will come crashing back? Yeah.

Astrid Beck: With Trent in a holding pattern he’s got to be turning up the mind games on her; I have to imagine he suspects and then she suspects that he suspects and it’s a whole mess, but I’ve said that already. But also just like, in general, I think her speech to Caleb back when he first contacted her was genuine in many ways and specifically I think she was likely to have been Trent’s New Golden Child and then suddenly that got yanked out from under her for still more mind games; I think her difference in demeanor between that meeting and the dinner was partially Trent being present, but partially her having realized in the interim that she will likely never have anything to show for two decades of pain and doing terrible things and nonstop bullshit.

Conclusion: still keeping her at 8/10 until further notice but like. Astrid’s having a bad time.

Um actually Eadwulf is the monster? The hero’s name is Grendel: Okay meanwhile here’s my totally unsupported Eadwulf headcanon of this week which is that he meanwhile always knew he was not the favorite and probably never would be and while I doubt he ever had particularly noble goals I would not be surprised if he had an exit strategy. Personally I hope he tries card-counting in that casino in Ank’harel and gets kicked out posthaste and then tries being a wizard/some kind of divine caster multiclass in Vasselheim and also gets kicked out but finally becomes like an old-school hermit figure somewhere in the woods of Issylra and Campaign 3′s party runs into him.

Conclusion: also keeping him at 4/10 until further notice.

Allura Vyesoren: It’s time to acknowledge that this episode covered a span of like...8 hours? And presuming the Nein are sort of trying to keep a normal sleep schedule, maybe, and using a comparison of Eiselcross being at a comparable time zone to say, Nicodranas, and it’s 5 hours into the night for them, and we know that around mid-day for Nicodranas was early morning for Emon...honestly she’s probably relaxing with a glass of wine. Unless Wensforth contacted her.

Conclusion: I’m going to let Allura have a good day. She’s at 2/10 because the threat of Aeor will be in the back of her mind but also she’s seen a bunch of idiots kill dragons and Vecna and they didn’t even have a wizard.

Yussa Errenis: Experiencing a great disturbance in the Astral Sea, as if millions of voices suddenly cried out in terror and then just like, kept doing that.

Conclusion: I decided to really go all out last week on the infinity jokes and left myself nothing to go on, huh. Anyway this breakdown goes to 11 (out of 10).

[animated-antagonist]

Qibli has a terrible arc

HEAR ME OUT.

Before you attack me for this, I genuinely don’t care if you like or hate him. I never loved him, but he wasn’t as bad as moon. Sometimes he’s funny, I like his interactions with winter, but I never really cared about him. But the way his mind was described in moon rising made me excited for his pov in book 10.

Then I read it and realized that he’s a boring, whiny, obsessive character who I was immediately sick of.

Darkness of dragons as a whole is a fucking mess from start to finish. And because I have nothing better to do right now, im going to explain why.

This is all my opinion, and it is based on story structure and character arc guidelines and stuff that I have learned recently. Feel free to disagree. Qibli is a decent character with his charm and humour, but he has the worst character arc out of all wof books. Yes that includes the hive queen and dragonslayer.

 Ok so first, what I like about qibli: like two things: his relationship with winter, and his sense of humour. I like his playful banter with the shiny ice dragon prince. It’s entertaining. And he does have the occasional joke that manages to somewhat amuse me.

 Literally everything else about him is awful. So let’s talk about that.

 Memorable characters are driven by three main things: desire, fear, and misbelief.

 Winter’s misbelief is that his life’s worth is determined by a ranking on a wall and what his tribe thinks of him. This also results in him believing that working with others and expressing love and trust are signs of weakness. He’s afraid of being a disappointment to his tribe because he’s experienced that feeling in his past already, and never wants to face it again. And yet … he does want more. He’s more open and caring than the rest of his family, and in the two backstory scenes we get, it’s clear he’s far more willing to bend the rules to be even a little more free.

 Peril’s misbelief is that she’s too dangerous to make her own decisions. Therefore, she’s instantly loyal to anyone who expresses a hint of interest or affection to her. This leads to her being easy to manipulate, and Scarlet does just that. She’s afraid of displeasing the people she’s loyal to, but she does want to be free. But her backstory and eight years of living by Scarlet’s orders and not having a single thought of her own has lead her to subconsciously believe that she constantly has to have someone make all her choices for her. She doesn’t go after Scarlet for her own benefit, it never crosses her mind once. She’s doing it because she knows it will make Clay happy, and not herself.

 Turtle always wanted to be a hero. That’s literally in the book blurb. But the Snapper incident in his backstory makes him doubt that he will ever be anything more than just another SeaWing prince. Thanks to his mother’s stories, he believes that in order to be a real hero, he has to do great, epic things like slaying whole armies by himself. He wants to be a hero, but his misbelief and fear of being noticed get in the way of his wants.

 And they all grow and overcome their fears and misbeliefs. Winter realizes that his friends would never hurt him the same way his family would. He realizes that it’s okay to love and be loved, to trust and be trusted. He goes back to his friends because he knows that, even if they can be annoying some times, it’s so much better than having his worth determined by a family and tribe that never approved of him and probably never will. Peril discovers that her misbelief is leading her to make the wrong decisions. Her growth is so strong that she can take off an animus touched object. She knows she’s right. She can make her own choices, and she’s done letting others use her as a toy. Turtle saves his sister, not by taking down an army, but by tossing her his enchanted stick to keep her hidden from Darkstalker. In doing that, he’s proven that he’s evolved and changed as a character. They all still have doubts at times, but that’s normal. These three characters have some of the best arcs I’ve ever seen.

 Now back to Qibli.

 His family told him he was worthless and couldn’t do anything as an ordinary dragon. This sparked the misbelief that he has to have power, or in this world animus magic, to have worth. He’s afraid of being worthless, and wants to feel valuable. That’s a great setup for a great character. Qibli could have, and should have, been one of the best wof characters of all time.

 But no he fucking sucks.

 I’m going to focus on him as a character here. The Vulture stuff is boring as hell and I don’t care to talk about it. The whole book is shit and I will never read it again, so let’s continue.

 Again, Qibli is set up to be an excellent character. When he goes to find Ostrich, he brings with him Anemone’s bracelets, which makes perfect sense. He doesn’t want to be powerless, so of course he’s going to bring that magic, that power, with him. More setup that goes no where, because when he uses them, he doesn’t even face consequences.

 Pausing here because I hate it so much.

 CONSEQUENCES ARE WHAT MAKE CHARACTERS GROW. If they face ZERO consequences for their actions, they won’t LEARN anything. Qibli using the bracelets works for his character, but I just cannot believe that Thorn would just let him walk away after burying the ENTIRE FUCKING KINGDOM in sand. I hate it so much. Qibli just getting a free pass and facing no consequences is so bad. He doesn’t even express that much remorse or guilt. That could work for a negative character arc (which I genuinely would have preferred from Qibli but I’ll get to that later) but for a positive arc? The magic and power he craves so deeply just got his entire kingdom buried. He should have so much more internal conflict now, because the thing he wants so badly just did more harm than good.

 Okay. Next part. This one isnt’ really related to his character arc, just more of him being a kinda jerk for a few seconds. Winter expresses great concern over travelling over Darkstalker’s teeth, and Qibli just teases him about it. Winter has known about Darkstalker’s malice his whole life, was brainwashed by him, and is truly terrified of him. If Qibli had teased him about anything else I wouldn’t have an issue, but Winter was scared for his life in this moment and Qibli just completely ignores it. Or maybe I’m wrong I haven’t touched the book in years because I hate it that much.

 Back to his ‘arc’.

 Wait no this is an issue I have with the book: the cliffhanger of book 9 was Turtle losing his animus magic and they just kinda fixed it in two seconds here. It’s very upsetting and kinda comical that they fixed it so effortlessly lmao.

 Back to Qibli.

 Uh nothing happens for a while. Just boring Moonbli WHICH, might I add, is the worst wof ship (excluding problematic ones ofc). They have zero chemistry and honestly I find Qibli a bit obsessive. He always thinks ‘what would Moon do’ or ‘will Moon love me if I do this?’ which yeah it ties into his ‘I want to be loved and have value’ motivation but it still feels a bit excessive and annoying at times. Pair that with his constant nagging about how ‘oh no if only I had that gosh darn scroll!’ or ‘how can moon ever choose meeee when she has winterrrr’. Moon described his mind to be fast and full of commotion, but we never see any of that in this book. It’s just constant whining and complaining.

 Then he goes another step further and blames Winter for getting angry at Moon for??? being friends with the dragon who just tried to murder his whole tribe???? Moon’s a fucking idiot for continuing to be friends with Darkstalker after everyone keeps telling her how bad he is. KINKAJOU, HER SUPPOSED BEST FRIEND, tells her all about what Darkstalker did to Turtle, and Moon’s just okay with it??? And then when Winter confronts her about still trusting Darkstalker after everything he’s done not just to the IceWings, but her friends as well, that Darkstalker brainwashed Winter and he’s not okay with it, Qibli calls him self-righteous for exploding with fury. What else do you expect?? This moment killed all three ships for me. It was an unnecessary event that’s only purpose was to give Tui a reason to make Moonbli canon instead of Winterwatcher.

 Onto the climax (which by the way is like the only semi decent part of this whole book). Qibli again uses his power to save the day. SERIOUSLY??? Ok fine it makes sense because this book has zero structure whatsoever. Qibli doesn’t have to make the impossible choice at the end of act one. He doesn’t face a goal shift at the midpoint. He doesn’t look a disaster right in the face. You cannot convince me that he’s changed at all over the course of this book.

 Because he doesn’t. He uses magic at the climax and boom everything is fixed. I like the concept of the empathy spell but it just doesn’t fit with this kind of character arc, unless it comes before the dark moment and fits into the supposed victory plot-point (thinking again now I think it sort of does but I’m too lazy to go change things so deal with it).

 And then oh no we get the temptation plot point! This is often my favourite plot point in stories that have it because we get to see the protagonist drop their misbelief and refuse the offer because they’ve changed! Reading this and thinking, oh wow he’s going to refuse it because he’s gone through a super dynamic character journey and arc!’ … then realizing no he’s not, because Tui forgot to include that and now makes Qibli refuse the offer for completely different reasons.

 See in a book with a good character arc, the character will refuse this offer because they’ve outgrown it. They no longer see value in it because they now have something greater to live for. I like this plot point much more than darkest moment if I’m being honest. So Darkstalker offers Qibli all he’s ever wanted: animus magic. Will Qibli accept, or decline? And why?

 He declines. But not for the right reasons.

 Qibli doesn’t refuse Darkstalker’s offer because he’s changed or grown. He doesn’t refuse it because he now sees no value in this because he’s seen happiness anywhere else. He refuses because he knows he can’t trust Darkstalker.

 … wow.

 i hate this book so much istg

 If Qibli had gone through a dynamic arc, he would have refused for better reasons.

 It’s just so disappointing. He has no reason to refuse that other than the fact that Darkstalker is untrustworthy. Holy shit.

 I take character arcs and story structure very seriously, and Qibli is just AWFUL when it comes to this.

 After three books that had such epic, emotional character arcs, DoD feels like a downgrade. And that’s why I think Qibli is a terrible character.

 But hey you know what COULD have worked?? Giving Qibli a NEGATIVE arc instead!

 I know he’s Darkstalker’s foil. That’s cool I don’t care. GIVE HIM A NEGATIVE ARC!! I would have LOVED IT SO MUCH MORE if Qibli accepted Darkstalker’s offer and arc 3 was all about all the other protagonists coming together to stop him and Darkstalker. That would have made a much better third arc. And you can bring in the other tribes if you want to I don’t care just find a way to make it work.

 It would have made so much more sense and fit the story so much more if Qibli accepted Darkstalker’s offer and became an evil animus alongside him. It also could have given Moonbli more time and chemistry! I still would have shipped Winterwatcher because well, Winter, but I probably wouldn’t hate Moonbli if this was the way the story went. Or maybe Qinter could be a thing. Imagine like a really emotional moment where Qibli is about to kill Winter and Winter just talks to him or something idk something romantic and sad. Would be great because there’s zero mlm rep in wof.

 Fuck it I’m gonna make an au about this.

 Yeeah that’s my rant over. I don’t hate Qibli as a character and I think he had so much potential but the way the story is written, I honestly thought he would have a negative arc instead. Wow I really want that au now I can’t stop thinking about it haha. But yeah Qibli is charismatic at times and a bit fun but his arc is terrible. Moon had a better arc than Qibli. MOON.

Sorry if this came off as aggressive at times I just wanted to voice my opinion. If you like him, that’s cool! I just don’t. He’s not one of my favourites although he could have been. Missed potential in my opinion. This is a very long rant so if you’re still reading this … thanks lol.

 Have a good day/night. Im gonna make that au now lmao.

[freddiekluger]

Why Cap Being Internally Closeted Is Not Only Possible, But Valid Representation 

i wrote this to a lot of mitski and onsind, so you can’t blame me for any feelings that bleed through

now i don’t know if it actually exists, but i’ve heard of there being a lot of discourse surrounding the captains story arc regarding his sexuality- i believe the general gist is that having a queer character that remains closeted to themselves is either unrealistic or ‘bad’ representation, and as someone who really treasures the captain and relates to his story so far a lot, i thought i might break this down a bit. 

i’ve divded up every complaint i’ve heard about this into four main questions which i’ll be covering below the ‘keep reading’, because this is gonna be pretty comprehensive. full disclaimer i reference my experiences as an ex-evangelical non binary butch lesbian a couple times, and i spent a year studying repression and the psychological impacts of high demand sexual ethics for my graduating sociology paper, so this is coming with some background to it i swear

the big questions:

can you EVEN be gay and not know it????

but isn't this just ANOTHER coming out arc, and aren't we supposed to be moving beyond those?

but if cap can't have a relationship with a man because he's a ghost, what's the point?

since cap's dead, isn't this technically bury your gays, and isn't that bad? 

1. "but is it really possible to not know? Isn't that bad representation?"

short answer: no and no.

before i get into the validity of the captain's ignorance about his own orientation as 21st century rep, let's break down how the hell the captain can be so clearly attracted to men and still not even consider the possibility that he might be gay, as brought to you by someone who literally experienced this shit.

the captain's particular situation is both a direct result of the lack of information around human sexuality he would have had (aka clear messaging that it's actually possible for him to be attracted to men. i don't mean acceptable or allowed, i mean physically capable of happening- the idea that orientations other than heterosexual exist and are available to him, a man), and a subconscious survival mechanism. the environment in which he lives is outright hostile to gay people, while the military man identity he has constructed for himself doesn't allow for any form of deviation from societal norms, let alone one so base level and major. as a result of this killer combo of information and environment, instincts take over and the mind does it's best to repress the ‘deviant’ feelings until a. one of these two things changes, or b. the act of repression becomes so destructive and/or exhuasting that it becomes impossible to maintain. the key to maintaining a long-term state of repression of desire is diverting that energy elsewhere, and a high-demand group such as the military is the perfect place for the captain to do this (this technqiue is frequented by religions and extremist ideologies worldwide, but that’s not really what we’re here to focus on). 

while the brain is actively repressing ‘deviant’ feelings (aka gay shit), this doesn't mean you don't experience the feelings at all. when performed as a subconscious act of survival, the aim of repression is to minimise/transform the feelings into a state where they can no longer cause immediate danger, and something as big as sexual/romantic orientation is going to keep popping up, but as long as the individual in question never understands what they’re feeling, they’ll be able to continue relatively undisturbed. you know how in heist movies, the leader of the group will only tell each team member part of the plan so they can’t screw things up for everyone else if they get caught? it’s kind of like that.

this is how the captain appears to have operated in life AND in death, and it’s a relatively common experience for lgbtq people who’ve grown up in similar circumstances (aka with a lack of information and in an unfriendly-to-hostile environment), and accounts for how some people can even go on to get married and have children before realising that they’re gay and/or trans. 

personally, while i can now identify what were strong homo crushes all the way back to childhood, at the time i genuinely had no idea. there was the underlying sense that i probably shouldn't tell people how attached i was to these girls because i would seem weird, and that my feelings were stronger than the ones other people used to describe friendships, but like-like them in the way that other girls like-liked boys? no way! actually scratch that, it wasn't even a no way, because i had no idea that i even could. i even had my own havers, at least in terms of the emotional hold and devotion she got from me, except she treated me way less well than cap’s beau. snatches of the existence of lgbt people made it through the cone of silence, i definitely heard the words gay and lesbian, but my levels of informations mirrored those that the captain would have had: virtually none, beyond the idea that these words exist, some people are them, and that's not something that we support or think is okay, so let's just not speak about it. despite only attending religious schools for the first couple years of primary, until i got my own technology and social media accounts to explore lgbtq content on my own- option a out of the two catalysts for change- the possibility of me being gay was not at all on my radar. don’t even get me started on how long it took me to explore butchness and my overall gender, two things which now feel glaringly obvious. 

when shit starts to break down, you can also make the conscious choice to repress which can delay the eventual smashing down of the mental closet door for a time (essentially when the closet door starts to open, you just say ‘no thanks’ and shut it again by pointedly Not Thinking About It). in the abscence of identifying yourself by your attractions, it becomes quite common to identify with a lack- in my case, this meant becoming proud of how sensible and not boy crazy i was, and in the captain’s case, this means becoming proud of how sensible and not sensuous/wild (aka woman crazy) he was, identifying with his LACK of desire for women and partying (which, even in the 40s, involved the expectation of opposite sex romances and hook ups). i’m not saying that’s the only reason he’s a rule follower, but i think the contrast between About Last Night and Perfect Day pretty much support this. (the captain getting on his high horse about general party antics that he inherently felt excluded from because of underlying awareness of his difference & his tendency to project his regimented expectations of himself onto others, vs. joining in the reception party, awareness of how the environment supports difference in the form of clare and sam, and relaxing his own rules by dancing with men- the captain doesn’t mind a party when feels like he has a place there.)

so the captain was operating in a high demand, highly regulated environment (primarily the military, but also early 20th century England itself), with regimented roles, rules, and expectations. working on the assumption that he wouldn't have had out/disclosing lgbt friends, he would have had little to no exposure to lgbt identities, and what information he did receive would have been hushed and negatively geared. while my world started to open up when i started high school was allowed to have my own phone + instagram account, resulting in me realising something wasn't quite 'right' within a few years (making me a relatively early realiser compared to those who don't come out to themselves until adulthood), in life the captain never had that experience. he didn't receive the information he needed, his environment didn't grow less hostile. with the near-exception of havers related heartbreak, his well disciplined and lifelong method of repression never became destructive/exhaustive enough to permanently override the danger signals in his mind and allow him to put his feelings into words. neither of the most common catalysts for change happened for him, so he continued as usual, even after his death.

BUT, and here’s where we come to why this is actually great representation, arrival of mike and Alison represents the opening up of new world. for the first time, the captain is actively made aware of the fact that his environment is no longer hostile, and better than that, it’s affirming. he’s also getting access to positively geared information about lgbtq people and identities, so option a of the two catalysts for change is absolutely present, and resoundingly positive. 

the captain’s arc is also relatively unique as it acknowledges the oppressive nature of his environment, but actually focuses on the internal consequences, and the way that systems like those that the captain lived in succeed because they turn us into our own oppressors. for whatever reason, we repress ourseslves, and often can’t help it, and i find that the significance of the journey to overcome that is often overlooked in more mainstream queer media. perhaps it’s just not very cinematic, or it remains too confronting for cishet audiences, but ghosts manages to touch on it with a lovely amount of humour and hope. Jamie Babbit’s But I’m A Cheerleader is another favourite piece of queer media for the same reasons.

not only does it show this, but as the captain continues to get gayer and lean into some of his less conventional traits (like an interest in fashion and the wedding planning), it shows lgbt people who have been or are going through this that there CAN be a positive outcome. it takes a lot to unlearn all the things that have painted you as wrong, especially when a massive institution is desperate to continue doing so, but you can do it, you can be happy, and it's never too late. (i've been meaning to say that last point for ages for ages, but a mutual beat me to it here)

2. not just another coming out arc

i absolutely support the demand for queer stories that don’t center around coming out (it’s like shrodinger’s queer: if you’re not coming out on screen, do you really even exist?), but i don’t align with the criticisms that the captain should already be out. for the reasons mentioned above, the captain’s particular story is fairly different to the ‘young white teenager who mostly knows gay is fine, it’s just everyone else that’s got the problem, but have a unremarkably straight sounding soundtrack, a trauma porn romance, and a cishet saviour’ that we keep seeing. the captain’s ongoing journey with his sexuality emphasises the overaching theme of the show: recovering from trauma and humanity’s endless capacity for growth, and i think that’s worth showing over and over again until it stops being true.

additionally, while the captain’s journey regarding his gayness is a big part of his character and story, ghosts makes it clear that it’s not the ONLY part, and being gay is far from his ONLY characteristic or dramatic/comedic engine. the fact that i’m even having to congratulate ghosts for doing that really shows how much film and television is struggling huh.

while all queer media is, and should be, subject to criticism, i think if it helps even one person then it absolutely deserves to exist, and i can say i’ve found the captain’s journey to be the lgbt story i’ve found that’s closest to my own, which says a lot considering he’s a dead world war 2 soldier who hangs out with other ghosts including a slutty Tory, a georgian noblewoman, and a literal caveman. 

3. if captain gay, why he no have boyfriend???? 

another complaint that’s been circulating is that since the captain doesn’t, and likely won’t, have a boyfriend, that makes him Bad Representation because it follows the sad single gay trope. i kind of get the logic from this one, and a lot of it is up to personal interpretation, but part of me really enjoys the fact that the captain’s journey towards accepting himself is separated from having a relationship.

coming out is often paired with having romantic/sexual relationships (either as the reason or reward for doing so). my own struggle with repression didn't end the second that came out, and i still struggle with letting myself develop & acknowledge romantic feelings as a result of actively shutting them (and most other feelings in general) down for years, and statistics show that lgbtq youth in particular tend not to live out their 'teen years' until their twenties. by not giving cap a relationship straight away, ghosts separates the act of claiming identity and sexual orientation from finding a partner (two things which are, more often than not, separate), and also provides some very nice validation to folks who have yet to have the relationship they want, especially when lots of mainstream queer media is now jumping on the cishet media bandwagon of acting as if every person loses their virginity and has a life defining relationship at sixteen. it’s essentially a continuation of the earlier theme of “it’s never too late”, and who’s to say the captain won’t get a gay bear ghost boyfriend to go haunt nazis with??? people die all the time, it could happen.

(also, i think him and julian will have definitely shagged at least once. it was a low moment for both of them and they refuse to speak of it.)

lots of asexual/ace spectrum fans have come out to say how much they’ve loved being able to headcanon cap as ace, and while that’s not a headcanon i personally have, i think it’s brilliant that ace fans feel seen by his character- we’re all in this soup together babey (and sorry for cursing everyone still reading this with that cap/julian headcanon. i’m just a vessel)

4. “okay, but cap’s a GHOST- doesn’t that make this Bury Your Gays?”

this is a bit of a complex one, but i’m going to say no as a result of the following break down.

Bury Your Gays (BYG), aka the trope where lgbtq characters are consistently killed off (and often with a heavy dose of trauma, while cishet characters survive) is probably one of my least favourite lgbt media tropes. BYG has two main points:

1. the lgbt character is killed, thus removing them from story entirely- hence the use of the phrase ‘killed OFF’ (killed off of the show/film)

2. the character’s death reinforces the perception that lgbtq people’s lives must end in tragedy, instead of being long and fulfilling, or are inherently less valuable. bonus points if the character is killed in a hate crime or confesses same-gender love right before they die (that one implies that queer love genuinely has no future!)

not every death of an lgbtq character is bury your gays, and i personally feel that the captain is an example of an lgbt death that isn’t. 

first of all, while the captain is dead, so are the vast majority of characters in ghosts. the premise of the show means that death is not the end of the line for its characters- for most of them, it’s the only reason we get to see them on screen at all. as such, the captain being dead doesn’t remove him from the story, so point one is irrelevant.

at the time of posting, we don’t know how or why the captain died, but we've had nothing to suggest his death was in any way related to his latent sexuality, so his mysterious death doesn’t actively play into the supposedly inherent tragedy of queer lives, nor the supposedly lesser value. that’s as of right now- since we don’t know the circumstances of his death it’s a little tough to analyse properly. while the captain’s life absolutely features missed opportunities and it’s fair share of tragedy, hope and growth (which seems to be the theme of this post) abounds in equal measure. the captain may not be alive, but we DO get to see him growing and having a relatively happy existence, that for the most part seems to be getting even better as he learns to open up and be himself unapologetically- that doesn’t feel like BYG to me.

while writng this, it’s just occured to me that death really is a second chance for most of the ghosts, especially with the introduction of alison. from mary learning to read, to thomas finding modern music, they’ve all been given the chance explore things they never could have while they were alive, and hopefully grow enough to one day be sucked off move on.

in conclusion,

i love the captain very much and i hope his arc lives up to the standards it’s set so far. i don’t know where to put this in this post, but i’d alo like to say i LOVE how in Perfect Day, the captain wasn’t used as an educational experienced for fanny at all. i am very tired of people expecting me to be the walking talking homophobe educator and rehabilitator, so the fact that it’s alison and the other ghosts that call fanny out while the captain just gets to have fun with the wedding organisation made me very happy.

here’s a few other cap posts that i’ve done:

the captain’s arc if adam and the film crew stayed

a possible cap coming out 

the captain backstory headcanon

if you’ve read this far,

thank you!

also check out @alex-ghosts-corner , this post inspired me very much to write this

[landonkirbyappreciation]

So if you really look at everything and how everyone reacted/reacts to Landon being in danger or "dying" (excluding Hope & Rafael) and you compare it to how they react when it comes to Cleo, Alyssa, MG, Josie..... literally anyone else being in danger .... there is a difference and that difference is in one fundamental attribute the type of species they are. The school, the squad (excluding Hope & Rafael), Dr. Saltzman they all will do everything and anything for a student/classmate/friend who is a vampire, Witch or Werewolf, they will cry and worry about them and their safety with a deep feeling. But when it comes to Landon non of them give a shit, why it's because Landon isn't one of them, he's something completely different, he's part "monster" he's the son of Malivore. Even when he was a Phoenix he was still a outsider because he wasn't one of the 3 species. Hope and Rafael care about Landon(for who he is) because they know what it feels like to feel alone, a freak, out of place, unwanted they understand that feeling better than anyone especially Hope. Everyone else doesn't, and it's because Landon isn't one of them that they don't care for him or feel anything for him on that regard. Since the witches tend to always stay with the witches(their coven), the werewolves have their pack and if you're not apart of it they don't care. The vampire stick with the vampires to a fault in way(given how they acted in s1 when Kaleb got locked up for drinking human blood and found out Mg was the reason). I mean Kaleb even had that saying back in s1 "vamps before tramps". Not to mention that in 3x16 Kaleb, Mg and Alaric cared more about finding Cleo than Landon, heck Alaric even said we lost one of own but was only talking about Cleo and not Landon.But what makes that whole thing worse is that for Landon his whole life. If you think back to s1 he told Hope "I needed help and you came. That's never happened to me before." Even in 1x16 when he saw Hope you could see it in his face that he was surprised that Hope actually came for him. I mean can you imagine growing up like that? To grow up not only unloved, but scared everyday of your life. Never knowing if the next home you get sent to would be a good one and if you'll be safe there. Wishing more than anything that someone anyone would care enough to come and safe you, take you away from that place. And I honestly feel like when Landon really does come back his mind set will be there "I can't believe Hope came for me".

P.S lol don't mind me I kind of fell down the Landon Kirby Rabbit hole today.

Yep, they definitely act very differently towards Landon and seem like they couldn’t care less about him, but I never thought of it being because of his species, but that’s very interesting. They have criticized him because of his Phoenix powers before, and have viewed him as weaker because his powers aren’t like the supernatural abilities that vampires, witches, and werewolves have. So he has been an outsider for being a Phoenix in that way, plus the fact that he is Malivore’s son, so you bring up a good point. It hasn’t actually been talked about in the show (except for the insults about him being weak because of his lack of “useful” powers as a Phoenix) but who knows, maybe it does have something to do with the way they treat him.

And yeah, exactly, Hope and Raf truly love Landon. And they have a better understanding of him and a stronger connection because they’ve had similar experiences like he has. But even without them having gone through similar things, they still just care about Landon, as they should, and they value him. Because you shouldn’t have to have those things in common with someone in order to care about them and value them. So even if the other characters can’t relate to Landon the same way Hope and Raf can and don’t see Landon as one of them supernaturally, it still makes no sense to me why they don’t care about him.

And what’s also strange is that, when you think about it, some of the other characters have had experiences where they should be able to understand and relate to Landon more, if that’s what it takes for them to care about him. Like Lizzie, for example, knows what it’s like to be bullied and to not be accepted by people, like Landon has experienced (yet she has been insensitive about the bullying Landon has endured and has bullied him herself). MG knows what it’s like to be unwanted and abandoned by your parents, like Landon has experienced. Alaric has seen and been through so much, he should be able to understand and care more about what Landon has gone through. And Josie at least used to be very close to Landon, and used to be protective of him. Yet none of these things are enough for any of them to care about him now? Or the fact that he’s helped all of them, he’s always done what he can to help the school, he saved Lizzie twice... none of this is enough to get them to value his life more?

I just don’t see why him not being one of those 3 species should matter, but you’re right about all the factions sticking together, so it could be a reason why they all see Landon differently. There’s just not the same sort of attachment or loyalty towards Landon like they have to those who are like them, which is really sad. And that’s so true about Cleo! I’ve only rewatched certain parts of 3x16 so I can’t remember all the details of what was said about finding Cleo. But I do remember that MG and Kaleb were both going for Cleo, she was the priority. They talked about her on the way there, no mention of Landon, even after what MG had done. I mean, you’d think that he would feel some remorse, that he might feel a bit hesitant or worried or awkward about seeing Landon again? But no, they just talked about what Kaleb should say to Cleo, not a thought about what MG might say to Landon or apologizing to him or anything? It’s like, not only do they just not care about Landon and all that he’s been through, but they don’t even think of him, it’s like they forget he even exists sometimes.

But yes! I’ve thought about that so much. After Landon has gone his whole life being unwanted and unloved, it just makes the way everyone treats him so much worse. And that’s so true, the fact that he was surprised in season 1 when Hope came for him says so much. Everything you said, it’s genuinely so sad. He’s been so uncared for throughout his life that he doesn’t even expect people to be there for him, and is surprised when they are. And you could be right, maybe once he’s back he’ll still be surprised that Hope came for him and did so much to save him. I feel like he was at the point where, when he first ended up in Malivore, he did believe Hope would save him. But after so long, and after all that’s happened, he probably stopped believing that, he might have felt like there was no way he could be saved. So I would think that him finding out all that Hope did for him and how she has fought for him will have a big effect on him. Because Hope showed how much she loves him throughout the whole season, but he wasn’t there to see it. So I hope we get to see some of his reaction to that, and for him to know just how much Hope loves him, possibly even more than he knew before. So at least there’s that, despite how everyone else has treated him.

[ms-demeanor]

To clarify, would you support a ban on religious symbols if it DID include crosses and everything Christian along with the rest?

No. Fuck that.

I’ve said over and over and over “you do you, just don’t build policy around it” and wearing your religious clothing and symbols is you doing you.

Also here’s a fun story.

In my school district it was common for muslim girls who were going to wear hijabs and practice modesty of dress to switch over during the summer so that it wouldn’t be this big thing that happened like, on a random Wednesday or whatever.

Anyway, 9/11 happened and a couple weeks later the Arabic club had a meeting and everyone was really upset because YEAH there was suddenly a SHITLOAD of islamophobia that these students hadn’t been experiencing before.

Now, my friend A. had started wearing her hijab before school started that year, so a few weeks ago, and I walked home with her because she lived halfway to my house. After 9/11 was the first time anyone ever threw shit at us when we were walking home and within a few weeks it had happened a couple of times, to the point that A. stopped walking home and started getting a ride with a different friend. And I do not blame her at all, I never got shit thrown at me when I was walking alone or with our male friend K. who was muslim but didn’t wear anything that visibly denoted that from fifty feet away. What was happening to A. was very shitty and scary and I’m glad she found a safe way to get home.

But M. hadn’t worn the hijab before and was worried about starting because she heard what A. was talking about and heard about the Sikh worker at the local gas station getting attacked.

She came to school the next day and wore it anyway.

M. and I weren’t friends like A. and I were, I wasn’t close to her or anything, but I always really admired her conviction on that. She was genuinely scared in a scary time and had a good reason to be frightened but she cared enough about this to do it anyway.

It was ballsy as fuck.

As an atheist one of the things that is INCREDIBLY important to me is that people be allowed to choose how much they participate or do not participate in religion. It’s part of the reason that infant baptism freaks me out but adult modesty doesn’t.

YOU DO YOU. DON’T HURT PEOPLE AND DON’T IMPOSE YOUR CHOICES ON OTHER PEOPLE.

(I should note that I’m aware there’s some “I wear makeup because I want to, not because it’s harder to get interviews or I’m seen as unprofessional if I don’t” in this - sometimes people who are in religions that have particular clothing associated with a particular stage of life may not want to wear those clothes but do so because their families expect it and put pressure on them to do so; I feel like if we normalize making choices about these kinds of things as a society as a whole that makes it easier for people within religious groups to say “I don’t have to do this if I don’t want to, I can go over here and do this other thing but if I decide I want to go back and do it I can later” and I think that’s probably better than feeling like you’ve got no choice or that you’re going to be utterly excluded from society if you DO choose to wear a niquab or something.)

[agirldying]

2022 has been pretty rough for me so far. I graduate soon which is nice and all to not have to worry about school, but outside of school I don’t have much, especially recently. A few months ago, a really close friend of mine decided to cut me off and not long after, their friends made fun of me and also cut me off (which I’m not that upset about tbh because I never liked those guys anyway plus they always have excluded me from hanging out with them). I have other friends and all but they’re not like my ex-best friend sadly. In short, I’ve been stuck at home for pretty much my whole life and not really going out except for when I really need to. My ex-friend did visit me at home or would invite me out and since they’re gone, my oldest friend has been trying to fill their spot by hanging out and taking me places. I appreciate them, but sometimes I feel as if we don’t click as much. They work a lot and they’re mostly busy so we don’t hang out often, but I have a lot of time on my hands and most days I feel alone and lonely. I want to make more friends, but I don’t think it’s possible. I don’t have many interests and I have a lot of trust issues so I don’t think I’d be able to feel comfortable around people who won’t care much for me, the person who doesn’t talk. On top of that, I’m autistic and mask constantly and I already experienced being apart of a friend group while masking for years, they all made fun of, berated, and abandoned me and I don’t have the patience to deal with it all again.

My ex-friend was pretty much the only person I felt the most comfortable with and they cared about me the most, but I still felt the need to mask when I was around them, not so much before I got cut off, but I also wasn’t my full self due to not wanting to potentially be seen as weird or get any other negative reaction (which I knew probably wouldn’t happen, they were an amazing friend and adored me, but I was still scared of them). I tell my best friend about how much I miss my ex-best friend a little too much, but they usually tell me that they (ex-friend) were never a good friend to me and that I deserved better and that they (ex-friend) don’t care about me or that I was being manipulated and abused. I’m stuck between believing them (best friend) and thinking that my ex-friend will come back, but it’s frustrating to think about and that’s the only thing I really care about or find myself focused on. My best friend is surely tired of hearing about my inability to move on, but I really can’t help it. My old friend was my primary source of happiness and motivation; bad, I know, but what can I say…

I can’t really get back to how I was before no matter how much I try. I don’t have much energy, so stuff makes me tired really easily and I spend most of my time sleeping or lying in bed, also because I don’t have much else to do. I don’t like any of my old hobbies like drawing, animating, sewing, or cooking, I just want to stay in bed all of the time. I’ve been feeling this way long before the friend situation, but it surely hasn’t helped. I also just don’t have much enthusiasm for the future and all. I can’t drive because I’m not stable enough and I’m also unemployed currently so there’s not much I can do but go to school and come home repeatedly. It’s bumming me out really, like I don’t like doing any of this stuff anymore and outside of my social life (or lack thereof) things aren’t any better really. I feel trapped and I don’t want to feel that way, but there’s not much else to do, but sit and wait really (this is something people made fun of me for thinking, but it’s the truth, I can’t do much while making sure I’m comfortable or that my boundaries aren’t being violated). Sleeping is pretty much the only way for me to get by, but I hate sleeping so much but I also feel like I need so much of it. It’s a battle existing the way that I do and I hate it.

In sum, everything is frustrating. The world isn’t getting better, nothing is interesting, I feel like a burden, I can’t ever really be honest about how I feel and what I want, etc. I also just feel like a bad person through and through; I feel bad for having boundaries and wants and preferences, I feel bad for missing a person who doesn’t care about me, I feel bad for venting rn, it just feels selfish, but I don’t have much else going for me. I’m sorry I’m traumatized and neurodivergent and had a rough upbringing, I’m sorry my family doesn’t care about me, I didn’t mean for that to be an inconvenience I guess.

(Sorry for the long tangent.)

Hi anon,

First of all I'm sorry to hear about how your "friends" treated you, as well as the devastating impact that has made on you. It sounds like you have several symptoms of depression, namely with losing passion in activities you once enjoyed and feeling unusually lethargic.

As someone who battles with clinical depression, I feel compelled to recommend you seek professional guidance for it if you have the means to do so. I say that because depression is gnarly, and often needs a professional to diagnose and treat, possibly even medicate since it can be a chemical imbalance. You deserve to be happy and have passion for things you enjoy, so if you can afford it I'd strongly recommend looking into a therapist or psychiatrist in your area if you haven't already.

I'm actually wondering if you've looked into or might consider looking into befriending fellow autistics. I think this could work especially because I know as an autistic myself, we tend to be straightforward, honest, and loyal, and it sounds like those are qualities that have been severely lacking in your (presumably) allistic friendships. You could potentially look into various online groups just for autistic people, and perhaps go from there. At the same time I completely hear and understand the exhaustion surrounding making new friends, especially after the fallout of your previous.

Either way, I really hope you can get the help you need to not only feel more active and emotionally engaged in activities but to trust new friendships, as I think they could potentially be a significantly better replacement. I'm here if you want to update me on any of this or if you need anything in general.

[deja-you]

âmes soeurs | part two

m. de lafayette x reader

Summary: Lafayette and Y/n Howe were childhood best friends. It’s been years, but somehow they’ve both ended up in revolutionary America. On different sides of the war.

masterlist | part one

BOOM!

A gasp escaped Y/n’s lips. Did she really just shoot someone? And just because he wore a blue coat instead of a red one? What was he guilty of, fighting for freedom? The flintlock pistol in Y/n’s hand billowed smoke still and felt hot to the touch. Her shaking hands dropped the pistol on the forest floor, but they continued to grip the sword she held. 

Looking up at the rebel in front of her, Y/n saw that he was still standing. Had she missed? He was only a few feet away from her and the flintlock was known for being incredibly accurate. Y/n reasoned that she couldn’t have missed her mark, and that the rebel would collapse at any second. But he didn’t.

The soldier whipped his head around to face her, looking more surprised than pained. He patted down his torso as if he were looking for a gunshot wound, but he never found one. He stared at Y/n’s silhouette in bewilderment, bristling when he saw the sword at her side glimmer in the moonlight. The soldier muttered some kind of disgruntled word and drew his own sword. He advanced toward Y/n, and she began to panic.

Y/n took a few steps back, but quickly found her back pressed to a tree. Going backwards wasn’t an option at this point, and the soldier was gaining ground quickly. Adjusting her grip on her sword, Y/n held it up to her opponent, and soon there was a clash of metal between the two.

This soldier was clearly a better swordsman than Y/n. In fact, it had been years since she had even held a sword. As she did her best to parry his attacks, the soldier came back again and again. His hits weren’t brutally strong, but they were fast and in just the right places, proving further that he must’ve been an experienced swordsman. 

With sweat running down her neck, Y/n did her best to hold her sword tighter when the soldier delivered a powerful blow. She didn’t have much time to recover when he attacked again. This time, the soldier was successful in disarming Y/n and knocking her to the ground. The forest beneath her hands, Y/n scrambled backwards. She wouldn’t be able to outrun him. He raised his sword, and Y/n was only left thinking this is the end. The sound of metal cutting through air could be heard, and then --

Nothing?

Y/n was expecting to hear the sound of his sword cutting through flesh. At the very least, a sharp pain in her side. There was nothing. Was she dead? Is this what dying was like? Just quick and painless? No, Y/n could still feel the leaves and dirt beneath her and the chill of the evening breeze in her hair. She couldn’t be dead. 

Daring to open her eyes, Y/n saw that the soldier seemed just as confused as she did. Upon noticing that she had not been effected, the soldier regained his purpose. He raised his sword again. Y/n flinched. And again, there was nothing?

“Why can’t I kill you?” Asked the soldier. He wasn’t angry, more confused.

“I... I don’t know,” Y/n replied honestly.

He cocked his head to the side and pointed his sword at Y/n once more. “Who are you?”

Not seeing the point in lying, and being too exhausted to continue fighting, Y/n raised her hands in surrender and slowly removed the hood of her cloak.

“I’m Y/n Howe.”

The soldier immediately lowered his weapon and took a step back from her. 

“Y/n?”

“Do I know you?”

Stepping into the clearing, moonlight lit up the soldiers face. He was taller than she had last saw him, he looked much older, too, but Y/n would have been able to recognize those eyes anywhere. Even after all these years, she could have never forgotten them. And Lord knows she had tried. 

“Lafayette!” She gasped. “Is it... is it really you?”

Now sure that this was Y/n, Lafayette dropped the sword in his hand like it burned him. It clattered to the ground, and Lafayette couldn’t believe that he had nearly killed Y/n a few moments ago. He had really tried his best...

“I never thought I’d see you again,” he admitted.

“Disappointed?”

Lafayette laughed. Oh, how she missed the sound of his laugh. “The opposite. When I heard you and your mother had accompanied General Howe to the colonies, I was hoping I’d get to see you again. But then I heard he was leaving back to England, and well...”

“You thought you’d never see me,” Y/n finished for him.

“Yes,” he nodded, “I thought I’d never see you. But I’m so glad I did.”

“I’m glad to see you, too. Although, it could be under better circumstances.” 

There it was. The realization of where they were and who they were. She was only here because she was General Howe’s daughter. Y/n couldn’t overlook the continental uniform Lafayette was proudly wearing. And there was also the fact that Y/n had tried to kill him moments earlier.

“Did you...” Lafayette asked incredulously. “Did you try to shoot me? Did you really try to kill me?”

Y/n tensed. “You tried to kill me, too! And you nearly did!”

“Yeah, because someone had followed me from a British party and attempted to shoot me! It was self defense.”

“How did we end up on different sides of this war? We were best friends.”

Lafayette immediately felt guilty upon hearing Y/n’s defeated tone. They really had been best friends. Even if it was all years ago, he had failed to meet anyone like Y/n. He didn’t even want to. Lafayette sighed and tentatively sat next to her on the forest ground.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I always wanted to seek glory on the battlefield, you knew that. Fighting for the Americans seemed right. If they can win independence from a tyrant, so can France, and every other nation.”

“Tyrant? That’s my king you’re talking about.”

“Y/n, you’ve always been the smart one. You must see how King George treats the colonists is unfair. Everyone deserves equal--”

“—you don’t need to lecture me about what is fair and what isn’t. I read Jefferson’s declaration, and I know all about his philosophy on ‘unalienable rights.’ I don’t really buy into it,” Y/n said firmly.

Lafayette was surprised. “You don’t? I thought... I thought this would be something you support.”

“It’s not that I don’t support equality and justice. It’s that I don’t believe these revolutionaries truly believe in equality and justice.”

“What do you mean?”

“They’re selfish. The men who wrote the declaration? Most of them are wealthy slaveholders. Do you understand how terrible it is that they talk about freedom and liberty, all while they buy and sell other human beings? That’s not what equality is. And if they can’t even get that right, what else are they wrong about?”

“Those men—”

“And that’s the second thing! They’re all men. They don’t care about equal representation, they just care about representation for themselves. Lafayette, you’re right, I have always been the smart one. I have spent hours reading and studying while you would go out for long rides on your horse. I’ve dedicated more time than most men to my education, but that still wouldn’t matter. I couldn’t get a job, I couldn’t get a position in the legislature, I couldn’t vote. All this on the account that I was born a woman. And you revolutionaries? You don’t care about anyone but yourself.”

Y/n was out of breath at this point. Years of pent up anger had finally been unleashed upon Lafayette. She almost felt bad. This wasn’t Lafayette’s fault, it really wasn’t. But it was cruel to champion equality and freedom when you didn’t really believe in it. 

“I’m sorry,” Lafayette said. “You’re right. We revolutionaries are hypocritical.”

“Hypocritical? Your english has gotten much better,” she muttered. 

“The men who wrote the declaration are wrong to own slaves and exclude women. I know that. I will dedicate the rest of my life to fixing that wrong. But right now? Right now I have the chance to fight the injustice that is the British government. It’s a revolution, Y/n. And if we succeed, we’re going to be changing the world for the better. This war is just a start. But everything needs a start.”

He was right. Y/n knew he was right. God, she hated it when he was right. 

“Maybe I was being too harsh,” Y/n conceded.

Lafayette shook his head. “No, it’s good. I love that you hold me accountable. But I also believe this revolution is worth supporting.”

“I know.” She said it so quietly he almost didn’t hear her. “I know you’re right, and you know why I can’t support this revolution.”

Lafayette did know why. Y/n never had much of a choice, and she was always loyal to those she loved. He couldn’t even imagine being in her shoes.

“Can we just not talk about this anymore? Can you just hold me like you used to? I just want what we used to have, even if it’s just for a little while,” Y/n said softly.

She didn’t have to ask twice, Lafayette’s arms wrapped around her and pulled her to his chest. 

Lafayette and Y/n were both so deeply flawed. It was all they knew how to be. But this moment they shared together? It could only be described as perfect.

How good did it feel to be in his arms again? It had been so long. Being without him was like living in a barren field covered in snow. Y/n had been content with her life without him in it, but that was when she couldn’t remember what life was with him. It was golden sunbeams and turquoise streams. It was stolen kisses on hot summer nights. It was music and flowers and everything wonderful. Life with Lafayette was all that and more. 

The rain started coming down in droves. Maybe it didn’t want her to have to fall alone.

tags: @ballerinafairyprincess @dannighost @ateliefloresdaprimavera

[bruh-haikyuu]

REQUEST: Can you do a scenario where lev meets his s/o because she playing the piano or singing. Thank you. Love your writing.❤️

A/N: Thank you for requesting!! Ok Sasha storytime 😳😳 I used to be in a piano class since I was 5 (I quit, but I still play just for fun). And I joined this competition when I was 9 and got selected as one of the finalists - and I was so fucking surprised bc jesus, I play averagely for all I can say... I’m not the best, but I’m definitely not the worst. But there was this messed up system where more familiar faces/winners would definitely be chosen. And despite some other kids messing up a lot, the MCs removed me first bc “Sorry, no one knows you around here. You played better than some others, but maybe if you talked more, you could win. No one really wants a winner they’re not familiar with.” I couldn’t really say anything. I knew they were right. So I left with a Certificate of Participation and not even proof that the judges chose me as a finalist. THIS particular event got me so fucked up for so long that I tried to get myself sick/injured so that I wouldn’t have to go to my piano classes for 4 weeks straight. Eventually, I pulled out after my exam and started playing for myself, with the songs that I enjoy, whenever I want. So,,, fuck those MCs and my teacher, I’m a bad bitch you can’t kill me 😎 *plays Superbass by Nicki Minaj* FEM!READER BELOW

duende. | haiba lev

summary: in which lev has no sense of direction, but finds a lone sugarplum fairy along the way.

word count: 2438

warnings: none

(n.) the feeling of profound awe experienced when viewing a piece of art, watching a performance or listening to music that has deeply moved a person

It’s difficult to tell precisely... but Lev was definitely lost.

It wasn’t his fault the school had to be so large! What’s the point of having so much staircases when they weren’t going to lead to one conjoined hallway? It was like a maze, except Lev knew he wasn’t getting anywhere near a familiar area.

Crap! he cursed, pawing nervously at his empty pant pocket. I left my phone in the clubroom.

Light was already fading from the west-side window and he hadn’t come across anyone for the past 15 minutes. He recalled something Taketora said about a part of the school being dead deserted. Was this that place? He couldn’t tell.

He was getting impatient. If Lev didn’t hurry up and submit his additional worksheets to Sakamatsu-sensei before sundown, it was over. Goodbye to the club’s training camp. Goodbye to becoming the greatest ace Nekoma has ever had. Goodbye to everything he ever cared about.

Instinct taking over, he ran as fast as his legs could carry him and called out to the empty hallways for someone. Anyone. “Hello?! Sakamatsu-sensei...?!”

And when the vacant corridors replied back to him, Lev stilled, frozen.

“...Piano?”

Alisa had told him something about ghosts once. It was right after she’d gone out to watch some horror movie with her friends. Lev couldn’t remember exactly her words, but his sister had “slept” with her eyes open that night and he wondered if he should be taking her advice seriously.

But this didn’t sound like a ghost. Something that sounded so beautiful wouldn’t have any murderous intention behind it... right?

The melody reminded Lev of those old ballets his grandmother would play on TV when she visited. Every glissando a delicate spin by one of the performers, and every perky note a tiny leap. He could almost see them, those beautiful dancers, and Lev wondered—if he were to trace the music to its source, would he find a charming sugarplum fairy waiting for him?

His feet were already ahead of his thoughts. Lev couldn’t even tell where he was in the gallery of clubrooms. His senses of direction numbed, he relied on his ears and the sweet, sweet melody of the piano that was getting warmer. And warmer. Warmer.

Hot.

“Or...chestra Club?” he read out, the placard’s kanji wrapping itself around his head. Peering through the rectangular window of the doors, Lev zeroed in on the bareness of the room, save for the large grand piano settled in the center.

This is the place... right? he thought, retreating slowly. No one’s here.

Looking around for good measure, Lev scratched his head. Ah, geez, I don’t even know where I am anymore. He reconsidered throwing away his curiosity and return to his quest for the third year’s Teacher’s Room before his Biology teacher could scold him for his incompetence. But the little fluff of hair peeking out from behind the piano swayed him over and he didn’t even stop to think when he barged through the doors.

“Fairy!”

The girl who squeaked in shock really did convince Lev for a millisecond that she was a fairy. Straight out of that stage his TV had replayed for him. Tiny in stature, eyes shining like morning dewdrops and fingers pressed again the white keys, thin and graceful as if you were producing magic. All excluding the lack of a pair of shimmering wings sprouted on her back, you were an enigma in this barren universe.

“I’m human,” you said, voice like air. Breezing and pushing like wind.

Lev approached the center of the room, speculating if your glamour would disappear if he were to come closer. “T-That song you played. That was from a ballet, right?”

“It’s Tchaikovsky,” you replied bluntly, grinning. “I feel like I’ve seen you somewhere before, can’t recall... We’re not too familiar, but you’re awfully rude for a first year, aren’t you? At least address me with the proper suffixes if you’re going to assume my species like that, Giant-kun.”

Speak for yourself! he thought, becoming more and more amused by this fanciful person. “I mean, you don’t look like a high school student either—”

You, completely ignoring him, returned your attention the piano, playing another song. This one faster, more fluid. Seeing your hands up-close, Lev eyed the muted details of your hand. A gentle blush on its skin, illuminated by the sunlight from the large window sitting ajar. His sister would kill to have a hint at your manicure routine.

So this is what a pianist’s hands looks like.

“Oh, I remember now,” hands coming to a rest on your skirt, the fairy girl turned to him, as elegant as ever. Now that the room was silent, there was a nervousness that lingered in the air. “You’re one of Kuroo’s boys, aren’t you?”

Hearing the familiar name of the no-nonsense captain of the Volleyball Club, Lev perked up, “You know Kuroo-san?”

“Of course, we’re in the same class after all.”

Same class. That would mean—no way!

“Y-you’re older than me?!”

You gave him a bright smile. Added to your fairy-like personage, Lev couldn’t help but to notice that this upperclassman of his was aware of his existence. There was actually a girl—who was awfully cute and just his type if he thought about it—in this godforsaken school who knew about Nekoma’s ‘ace’, Haiba Lev.

This was a dream, right? No, he shouldn’t be saying such a thing. In fact, Lev had gotten so engrossed in this reality that he didn’t realize how much he was staring into your beautiful face before you piped up again.

“Oh, it’s almost time for me to lock up. I forgot to ask, did you need anything when you came in here?”

Wait, what time is it?!

Lev let out a strangled noise between a dying boar and a tearful sob. Collapsing on the floor before his worried senpai, he squeezed the papers in his hand. Oh, it was over now. Over, over, over. Hello wretched make-up exam, goodbye glorious training camp...

Kneeling down next to him, you peeked at his wincing face. “H-hey, are you okay? Is there anything I can do to help?”

Raising his head to look into your swirling eyes, Lev pursed his lips. Damn, you were totally going to think he was uncool after this. Grabbing you by the shoulders, he lowered his head in a bow.

“Senpai, could you show me the way to the third year’s teacher’s room? I’ve got an assignment to submit before 5 pm and I don’t know where I am! Please, senpai, I need to—”

No more words were exchanged when you grabbed Lev’s collosal hands in your delicate ones and dragged him through the door. You sped and hurtled down the corridors, bringing him along with you in this strange joyride. It was a funny sensation, similar to being towed around a park by a wild dog on a leash—except you weren’t a dog, but simply a shorter person whose size reminded him a bit of Yaku-san...

“S-Senpai—?!” he wheezed out, long legs pedalling in front of him. For someone nearly half his height, you were really fast; he wondered if you should’ve went for the Track and Field Club instead of the Orchestra Club.

Just as he had thought of letting go before you became a physical hazard to him, you skid to a halt in front of a door. Panting, you smiled up at him. “Here we are. Y-You’re not late, right?”

Eyes darting between the doors to the teacher’s office and you, the burning intention of a hug fuzzed out Lev’s brain—unfortunately, that would have to wait until later. Shoving the door open, he dashed inside the near-empty office and handed over his pile of crumpled assignments to the jaded Sakamatsu-sensei, face red.

Filing through the papers, the Biology teacher griped. “Well, all the assignments I asked for you to do are here... I’ll inform the Volleyball Club supervisor that you’ll be able to join the training camp this weekend.”

Saved. He was saved.

Exiting the office, he bowed before you—his fairy godmother—and murmured. “Thank you, senpai! You saved my life... ”

“Y-You’re welcome,” you said. “But I don’t think I went as far as “saving your life”, um... what was your name?”

“Haiba! Haiba Lev. Thank you so much!”

When you giggled, Lev heard the choirs of angels fill his head. God, he really wanted to hug you, stuff you in his pocket and bring you home with him to coo at and cuddle.

“The pleasure is mine, Haiba-kun. You’re an interesting person, you know? I’m glad we met.”

Lev really felt like he’d won the lottery. Was this finally his chance? Was he going to get a super cute, older girlfriend before his intolerable seniors? Unthinkable! Yet here he was, indulging in the soft smile of Nekoma’s resident sugarplum fairy, as if his entire gag reel of clumsy flukes never existed.

“Ah! I forgot to lock the doors to the clubroom!” you yelped. Even in panic, Lev thought you looked cute. “It was nice getting to know you, Haiba-kun. The main staircase is right over there, so you’ll be able to get back without getting lost. Be safe!”

Before he could offer his hand in accompanying you—at least being next to you for as long as possible—you had already sped off into an indistinct corner, the amber light of sundown fading with your shadow. And once again, Lev was alone.

Damn. He didn’t even ask for your name.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

“You’re asking me... if I know a girl in my class called ‘Fairy-senpai’?”

The gaze in Lev’s green eyes were resolute. “Yes.”

Kuroo sighed, wiping off his sweat with a towel. Day by day, he swore, the first-years were getting more and more difficult to deal with. “Someone named Fairy who hangs around in that derelict part of the third floor sounds shady as hell. And what club did you say she was from?”

“Orchestra Club.”

“We have an Orchestra Club?”

Lev was getting nowhere with the rooster-headed captain; it was either that, or Kuroo was intentionally leading him to a dead-end out of sheer mischief. Anything could happen with him.

It had been a total of 18 hours since he’d last seen you, and Lev’s head had never felt any emptier. He’d startled his parents and Alisa enough by playing one of his grandmother’s ballet DVDs once he’d arrived home. But it wasn’t the same. Even the visual movements of the ballerinas and the skill of the ensemble didn’t amount to your solo rendition.

Yours was more natural, more sturdy. Something he could feel and see without opening his eyes or reaching out to it. Smitten with your performance, Lev slept that night, head filled with the thought of seeing you again, his little sugarplum fairy in the maze of doors and desolation. And maybe, he’d even get your number this time.

“She’s really good at the piano and has a twinkly smile. Fairy-senpai is a bit short too, really tiny,” Lev hesitated to continue, looking around for safety “... A bit like Yaku-san’s height.”

“What’s this I hear about my height? Hey, Lev! Why aren’t you practicing your digging receives?!”

Wincing at the stinging kick thrown at his back, Lev pouted miserably. Watching the poor behemoth being dragged away by the demonic upperclassman, an implausible feeling of pity struck through Kuroo, and he called out for the libero.

“A cute girl who looks like a fairy, can play the piano and is in the Orchestra Club? In our class?” Yaku repeated after Lev and Kuroo’s explanation. Tapping his chin in deep thought, he replied dubiously. “Doesn’t that sound a bit like L/N-san to you?”

“Ehh? L/N-chan can play the piano? I never knew that.”

Yaku clicked his tongue indignantly. “That’s because you barely talk to her. Maybe if you attended cleaning duty properly, you would’ve realized that when you’re paired up with her.”

The sound of his seniors bickering was already white noise to him. L/N. Repeating the syllables on his tongue, Lev tasted a sugary relish linger in his mouth. What a beautiful name. A fitting name, and suddenly, he already sensed that your first name would be just as wonderful.

“Though I’m impressed that you managed to get a full conversation out of L/N-san. Did you scare her or something?” Yaku snickered at Lev’s unappreciative scowl. “It’s just that L/N-san only says something when she’s required to. Otherwise... she’s really quiet. I’ve only heard her say ‘thank you’, ‘I’m sorry’, ‘yes’ and ‘no’ for the past three years, everything else we know about her comes from gossip.”

Lev’s chest swelled up and he smirked. “Maybe she likes younger guys like me.”

“I think she likes you because you’ve got nothing going on in your head at all,” the team captain scoffed attracting the giggles of his surrounding teammates. “You are right though, Lev. L/N-chan is a really cute person... I might get interested one of these days.”

“H-Huh?! C’mon, Kuroo-san! I’ve got dibs on her first!”

Nearly there, the captain thought. Lev’s ears were already burning red, a clear sign of his impulsive outburst. And when the timing was right, the Volleyball Club loved to use his recklessness for profit.

Crossing his arms in faux doubt, Kuroo shrugged. “I don’t know... I highly doubt you’ll attract her attention if you’re not even a regular on the team...”

Furrowing his brows deeply, Lev snatched a ball from the ground and stared deeply into the captain’s lacklustre eyes. “I-I’ll show you! I’ll become a regular on the team and the ace! That’s why I’m going to go practice right now, right, Yaku-san?!”

Even Yaku, completely amused and alarmed, had to do a double take. “R-Right... Do your best then.”

“I will!”

Chuckling at Lev’s shrinking back, Kuroo patted himself on the back for a job well done. Kenma, who had watched the entire nasty exchange go down, was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Weakly punching his childhood friend on his shoulder, he grumbled. “Great... Now that he’s fired up about some girl, he’ll keep asking me for more tosses. Kuroo, if I pass out because of your ‘encouragement’, you’re paying for my health insurance.”

Lev couldn’t hear the new conversation happening between the team’s setter and the captain, but that didn’t matter right now. He was going to practice, become better, then the best. Then ask you out, his sugarplum fairy in the third floor’s Orchestra Club clubroom. Lev felt invincible.

[knjoodles]

incomparable | taehyung x reader

pairing: taehyung x reader

genre: angst, fluff

word count: 4.9K

warnings: supposed cheating, struggle with body image, low confidence. (i have struggled with all of these things myself)

summary: with taehyung’s busy schedule, you often wonder why it seems he wants to be everywhere but by your side.

lowercase intended

   you loved taehyung.

  no, you love taehyung. the love you and taehyung shared was something that you’d never experienced before. something unique, something different.

  it had all started when the two of you were in high school, being forced to talk to each other as you were paired together for a social studies project. you were a quiet, reserved student, one who had at most three friends and wasn’t looking to make more. once a social butterfly, the endless bullying you’d suffered in your early teen years, being completely excluded from your entire grade, made you cling to those who didn’t succumb to the rumors. to this day, you weren’t quite sure why you were targeted. what you were sure about, though, was the bitterness of the people who hurt you, who went as far as to blackmail old friends to end their friendship with you. you learned to trust few, but cherish them the most. your warm and welcoming personality turned cold to those you didn’t know, not fully letting them in until the still scarred, younger version of you was assured they wouldn’t betray you. you didn’t lose the happy-go-lucky (y/n) you always were, she’s just hidden away. like an exclusive, vip perk for those you’d trust with your life.

  taehyung was like you, minus the traumatizing bullying. he was full of energy, a ball of sunshine who would never be seen with anything less than a smile. both of your respective friends found it amusing how such different people just happened to be paired together, and you were left as dumbfounded as the rest. it’s not that you found taehyung annoying, no. he was just very loud.

  it started with the two of you working at the library, taehyung lugging a large board across the isles to a large community table. he waved at you giddily, trifold board bouncing against the library’s carpeting as he dashed towards you, footsteps loudly hitting the floor. waddling towards you, panting lightly, he greeted you, slumping in the seat in front of you. you were annoyed. you couldn’t believe this was what you had to work with.

  the project? report on a european country and its state in the 18th century. before you could even finish your question on what he wanted to report on, taehyung slammed his large hands onto the hardwood table, exclaiming that he wanted to do portugal. with his excited form dangerously rocking back and forth on his chair, the two of you began work, reporting on 18th-century portugal.

  by the second or third time you’d met up, he wasn’t that bad anymore. the two of you had conjured a few inside jokes and you looked forward to your meetings with him, as it had become a practice for the two of you to talk about what struggles plagued your teenage lives while your parents rang your phones, trying to figure out where the hell you where and why you weren’t home by now. it was funny to you and taehyung. things were good.

  fast forward to senior year, where taehyung had been usurped into your friend group, all five of you marching off to places where you shouldn’t be at ungodly hours. that was the dream of being eighteen yet still a child, the amount much freedom that you could savor, but only for a short time. as your friends all sat on the roof of your high school at midnight, you remember glancing at taehyung, wrapped in his jacket underneath your shawl due to the cold weather. he was different from when you’d first met him; his face was maturing, and he had a handsome glow to him. his raven hair was highlighted by the pale moon, a silver lining shining against his locks. as he gazed unto the bright city before him, you noticed his flawless facial features: eyes, round and excited, skin, smooth and without fault, nose, tall and attractive, and lips, plump and seemingly carved into perfection.

  for the first time in your life, your stomach felt like a jumbled mess sitting next to him. your breath quickened and you wanted to hide, feeling the sudden urge to make sure you looked amazing every time he looked at you.

  taehyung was popular with the girls and the boys, as expected. as much as you hated it, you couldn’t help but feel insignificant next to taehyung. classmates of all ages would swarm and gawk at him, staring at his practically god-sculpted visuals and kind soul. taehyung was perfect, and everybody knew it. it hurt you, sometimes. knowing that even though you were close friends, he may think of you as a sister, not a lover. there were hundreds of people in your school alone that would be a better match for taehyung than you. the self-destructive language bubbled inside of you every time you saw him laughing with someone else, eyes full of joy.

  you broke down in tears in front of him in his room. he was clueless as to your feelings for him, but seeing you sobbing mercilessly ripped his heart into little pieces. you cried about how you never felt like you were enough, how you just wanted one person to look at you the way you look at them, how you knew they were out of your league but you still wanted to be with them. hand rubbing your back comfortingly, taehyung assured that anyone who didn’t want to be with you was stupid, and the guy who you liked was an asshole. you laughed at his comment, and he chuckled with you, thinking he made you laugh in a time of need. he did, but not for the reason he thought.

   it’s the early-middle of senior year. the last of college apps had been sent out, but taehyung was pursuing something you thought to be incredulous. he burst into your room as you edited a project essay, startling you. his hyper aura transferred to you as he beamed that he’d been accepted as a trainee to bighit entertainment, a small, yet promising company. jumping up and down in unison, you hugged him tightly, wanting to show just how proud of him you were. he deserved it, he worked hard. you’d been accepted to a large university in seoul, essentially spelling out that you and taehyung would be moving to seoul to pursue your careers. this was when your heart felt as tense as ever, knowing that as a trainee, taehyung would be restricted from doing almost anything. and, when he becomes an idol, he’d be restricted from literally everything. 

  it was a normal day, your tired mind barely staying awake due to your midnight rendezvous with your friends. what was abnormal, though, was taehyung’s intentional avoidance of you. every time you approached him, he’d grow silent and slip away. every time you looked at him, knowing fully that he was boring holes into the side of your head, he’d dart his eyes, staring at the floor. it left you perplexed and slightly discouraged. the sudden lack in interest towards you rubbed you the wrong way: what could you have possibly done to drive him away this much? as you sat in silence against the brick wall, drumming your pencil against your leg, scouring through your mind for any reason for his actions, taehyung put his hand on your shoulder tenderly. the sudden touch made you simultaneously drop your pencil and look up, somewhat confused that taehyung just appeared after seemingly wanting to disappear the entire day. taehyung asked to talk. 

  he pulled you to the back of your school where it was quiet and crisp from the cold, winter air. as taehyung stood silent in front of you, wringing his hands nervously, you prepared for the worst. thousands of tragedies flew through your mind, not knowing what exactly to expect, but his body language spoke for itself. staring into your eyes deeply, he sputtered a confession of attraction, blurting how he wanted to go on a date with you. 

  how that night, so long ago, he, too, felt something different.

  the two of you had become one. 

  after graduation, that’s how the two of you lived your lives; taehyung, in and out of his busy schedule as an idol, and you, studying endlessly to pursue your medical career. taehyung had warned you that once he debuted, he’d have to leave your shared apartment and move into dorms with his friends turned co-members. you remember how this conversation went down: he talked to you as you faced him in bed, your hand resting on his clothed chest. you responded by kissing his forehead lovingly, reassuring that it’d be okay, that nothing would be wrong.

  of course, you’d said that with the thought taehyung wouldn’t become a worldwide sensation, that his face wouldn’t be all over twitter, instagram, and almost every billboard in sight. taehyung’s schedule consumed him and, as a result, your relationship as well. his appearances at your apartment became shorter and shorter, and everything felt lost. no hugs, no kisses, no dates, no nights over, no sex, no him. no nothing. it was you, in your apartment, by yourself, wishing that taehyung would unlock the door and pull you into his arms.

  his international trips hurt, too. it’s not that you didn’t trust him — no, you trust him more than anything — it was the fear which would corrode you in high school reemerging in the back of your mind. that dark whisper, moaning that everything was not okay. that taehyung knew you weren’t there, knew you wouldn’t know. what would stop him? his manager, and risk a scandal that could wreck his career? his members, who knew that if he fell, so would the entire group? no, they would never. you have no one on your side but you.

  you didn’t want to feel uneasy at the slightest thought of leaving your side, but being alone causes your deepest, darkest fears to keep you company. before taking a shower you’d stand in front of the bathroom mirror, nude, and unconsciously point out all the flaws you see in yourself. how, even with your feet apart, your legs only seemed to gain fat. how your waist was never as tiny as the women who would serenade thousands of people in sold-out concerts. how, regardless of all the good pictures you’ve snapped of yourself, you would never be pretty enough to stand confidently next to taehyung. 

  hiding the relationship was what bighit felt to be the best move. you knew it was just to protect taehyung from getting swarmed and harassed even more, but a small part of you couldn’t help but feel that it was your fault. your fault that you weren’t good enough for bighit to announce you as taehyung’s girlfriend. not thin enough for netizens to accept you as worthy of dating the kim taehyung. not smart enough, not pale enough, not attractive enough to be called his. you were afraid that bighit found you to be an embarrassment. how dare you crack the perfect image of bighit; how dare you.

  taehyung had returned from day four of their seoul concerts, which they had scheduled to end their tour, not kick it off. to the surprise of both you and his members, he’d gone straight to your apartment, falling into your arms exhaustedly. as he unhooked himself from your smaller frame, you looked up at him, quietly scrutinizing his face. he looked tired. his eyes no longer had the same glow. they were darkened and blinking slowly. he was tired. 

  at night, he clung to your body, wrapping his larger form around you. his leg rested, hooked on yours, his arms holding you as he snored softly behind your ear. you almost felt horrible. it was as if all his pain, all his sleepless nights, all his exhaustion was reflecting onto you. it was so bad that you felt it, too.

  they had let the members sleep in for once. taehyung, chest rising and falling rhythmically, was still in deep sleep at ten in the morning as you slipped out of his arms, getting out of bed. as you roll your neck, stretching your body, taehyung’s charging phone received a notification, grabbing your attention. still half asleep, you waddled towards it, reading that taehyung was expected to be at rehearsal in two hours. you groaned at the thought of waking him up after he’d just gotten some sleep, but you’d rather have him cranky for twenty minutes than stressed out that he’s late to practice shuffling towards his sleeping figure in bed, you shook his arm lightly, earning a hum and eventually the opening of eyes from your boyfriend. “already?” he croaked, pushing his unkempt hair out of his face to squint at the clock. 10:10 a.m. he slumped back into bed, groaning loudly into his pillow. he was as reluctant as you were. 

  it was their last performance of this tour, the most important one at best. you could see stress seeping through taehyung, his mood serious, his face stone cold and intimidating. you found it scary, yet oddly sexy. he’d invited you to stay backstage for the last concert, as afterward, the entire crew would go for dinner, and he wanted to spend this important night with you. his warm words suppressed the negative thoughts that clouded your mind for a moment. 

  you knew they’d come back. they always come back. 

  all members except for jungkook were backstage, either fanning themselves, changing, or renewing makeup. jungkook was on for his solo, the screams of the audience muting any conversation from backstage. you slouched on a leather couch, rolling the ball of your foot against the floor in boredom. taehyung suddenly emerged from behind a curtain with four women following close behind, his body clad in a handsome suit, perfectly defining his form, complimenting his body in every which way. he looked breathtaking, which was something you couldn’t say for yourself.

  the poltergeist which haunted your mind at the darkest hour began to emerge yet again, practically tearing your confidence down as taehyung stood tall, waiting for his stylists and makeup artists to finish their work. one woman seemed to lead all of them as she pushed them back, scolding the rest of her team as they had gotten too close.

  you only caught a glimpse of her, but it had hit you that she was essentially all you strived to be, and everything the public would expect of taehyung’s partner. her legs were long and slim, creating a perfect height between her and your boyfriend. her hair shimmering against what stage light entered past the curtain, you could see of just how beautiful she was. her eyes were large and round but still dainty and fit her face perfectly, her nose had a natural, flawless bridge, and her lips were round and complimented her features to the tee. face naturally shaped with a perfect jawline and body curvier than you could ever expect yourself to be, you felt as though you should pull away.

  where could you even go at this time? trying to find an exit to the venue, your eyes kept traveling back to taehyung and his makeup artist, who were giggling away at a joke one of them made. you despised the growing lump in your throat, knowing you had no right to be mad: you trust taehyung, and he trusts you. he’d never do anything to hurt you. 

  well, if that was the case, then why were they so close?

  you glared at the pair chuckling in unison, his makeup artist whispering a phrase as she cupped his cheek in her left hand, right hand redoing his foundation. taehyung laughed breathily at whatever she had mumbled, looking at her as if she meant the world to him. you felt that lump growing larger and larger by the second. you told yourself you wouldn’t cry, that you wouldn’t make it about yourself when it was taehyung’s time to shine, but it was hard. you were cracking.

  as an assistant swiftly switched the makeup palettes the artist was using, she bent down and exposed taehyungs chest and collarbone, re-lining black veins that were supposed to resemble a spider bite from maze runner. taehyung was now scrolling on his phone, completely oblivious to the hell you were experiencing only a few ten feet away. her hand glided down taehyung’s chest, stopping in the middle, near his solar-plexus. seeing her so close to your boyfriend who was now open chested in the middle of a cold room which already would tense his muscles, not to mention having a woman drag her hand down made the pit in your stomach grow more hollow by the second. you tried to swallow whatever thoughts plagued your mind; you knew you were probably a joke in bed compared to her. she would be so much better for him.

  you wanted to look away from the two of them acting so intimate as if she was the one who’s been by taehyung’s side since he was eighteen. that was you, it was you who sat with him and comforted him, it was you who sat alone for hours in restaurants, waiting for him to show up, it was you who could only see the remnants of taehyung’s presence from the night before, as he’d arrive and leave while you were asleep. it was you that missed his touch, his energy, his love. or was it?

  as jungkook’s stage came to a close, the audience cheering louder than ever before, the rest of the group prepared to perform ‘on’ as one, all six of them standing on a platform that would raise them into the final stage. relieved that taehyung was finally leaving her side, your delight was soon met with upset as when he climbed onto the platform, she adjusted his suit and laced her fingers with his, squeezing his hand tightly and wishing him luck. 

  this was your breaking point. you slipped out of the backstage rooms and into the venue’s hallways, dropping against the wall to catch your breath. tears rolling down your cheeks slowly, you swallowed yet again, the lump in your throat heavy and persistent. you stood in the dimly lit hallway alone, hand against the wall, trying to calm yourself down. it was nothing, you thought, trying to reason with yourself. you’re making this about you again.

  but wasn’t your relationship with taehyung partially about you? two conflicting sides fogged your mind, clouding your judgment. you had no clue as to what to do. you felt helpless, and, most dreadfully, alone. you were alone. no one with you, no one in the vicinity. it was you, and your dark thoughts. it wasn’t any different from the other times when taehyung was absent, but this was different. it was as if your fears were proven true. you felt as though there wasn’t much hope.

  after collecting yourself, you waited patiently until the end of the concert, which reached an official close around midnight. watching taehyung thank his concert staff, shaking their hands confidently and thanking them endlessly, you collected his things as well of yours, awaiting his presence next to you. to your surprise, two strong arms wrapped around your waist, a chin resting on your shoulder. “did you enjoy the show?” taehyung hummed, voice groggy from performing for hours on end.

  “mhm,” you replied, placing your phone laying on a table back into your backpack, zipping it tightly. “you did great.” you knew that you sounded out of touch; hell, even you could hear it.

  “thank you, baby,” he pecked your neck softly, something that always sends butterflies straight to your stomach. “we’re going to dinner to celebrate ‘cause, you know… end of the tour!” he beamed, pushing his cheek against yours. “do you want to come with us, or do you want to go home? it’s okay if you don’t want to come, i understand, but i really, really want to spend tonight with you and everyone else i love.”

  you looked at him tiredly. two different narratives were running in your mind: one, who wanted to support taehyung in all he does, and another, who believed you didn’t belong here, who believed no one wanted you here. with taehyung’s reassurance that at least he wanted you around, you nodded, grasping his hand. “okay, i’ll come.” you smiled weakly, kissing his temple. the amount of emotional torment that had been cycling endlessly in your mind had taken a toll on you, the way taehyung’s heavy schedule took a toll on him. the two of you slipped into a large, black ford, your mask and coat disguising you as a staff member.

  their afterparty was a dinner, the whole restaurant rented out for bangtan and the bighit staff. seated next to taehyung, you found his energetic personality to never falter, as his cheerful tone mirrored that off this afternoon. tables were connected into one large strip, the entire group chiming together with laughter and warm energy. laughter and warm energy towards everyone but you.

  taehyung knows you as someone who doesn’t talk too much in large groups; you tend to talk to a couple of people near you and don’t really venture far, not being antisocial or shy, but willingly secluded. you attempted to chime in many times to conversation, only for it to be met with awkward glances from the staff and your comments not even being registered into the table chat. your happy remarks grew quieter and quieter until you found yourself saying nothing, just picking at the food in front of you and eating quietly, realizing that everyone had someone to talk to but you.

  the most difficult thing, though, was the fact your boyfriend was sitting next to you, babbling away with his makeup artists, stylists, and manager. you’d been completely rejected from the conversation, thrown out like trash, and he hadn’t noticed. his makeup artist talked with him contentedly, seductively stirring her drink with its straw. you focused on chewing on your practically untouched, trying not to think about the chemistry that was brewing in front of you. you physically felt your heartbreak, tears brimming your eyes once again. breathing deeply, you tried to mask your pain, slouching in your chair and pulling back so that your face couldn’t be seen. taehyung’s loud burst of laughter made you realize that he hadn’t even registered your exclusion. 

  to your surprise, taehyung chose to accompany you home instead of leaving for his apartment. the car ride quiet, you sat away from taehyung, knees facing the door instead of forwards. you glanced into the midnight streets of seoul, the entire city lit up with commercial buildings, hotels, and restaurants peppering the black night. you heard taehyung shift in his leather seat, the material squeaking against his hands trying to muffle the sound. the car ride home was awkward and uncomfortable, two things you’ve never felt before when with taehyung. you’d feel happiness, excitement, your heart bursting, love dripping from you like honey. this? this was not you, and this was not him. 

  from getting out of the car, you immediately dropped your things onto the couch and beelined straight for your bedroom, wanting to get out of the clothing you’d been wearing in a hot, humid dining room for the past two hours. taehyung followed, disappearing into the bathroom to wash his face. standing in just your underwear, you caught sight of your leg on your wall mirror. shuffling fully into view, you stared at your half-nude body, shuddering at the state of it. the stress of work and your relationship had begun to take a toll on you; you noticed you’d gained some weight and that your body looked just as exhausted as you. you swiftly turned away from the mirror, not wanting to let any more dark thoughts penetrate your mind. the night had been bad enough already, why should you make it worse for yourself?

  tumbling into bed, wearing nothing but an old, large shirt of taehyung’s and your panties, you pulled the covers closer to your body, laying on your right side. you felt the mattress shift as taehyung scoot next to you, his chest hitting your back, his leg habitually enveloping yours, arms wrapping around your waist. he began to nip softly at your neck, ear, and cheek, “hey,” he murmured in between peppering you with kisses, “are you okay? you didn’t say much tonight.” 

  you lay a hand on his arms, wrapping tighter around your waist, pulling you closer to his body, and loosened them, swallowing. “i’m okay.”

  “i know that whenever you dodge my questions by saying you’re okay, you’re most definitely not okay,” he mumbled in your ear. pulling your shoulders towards him so you were facing him, he tucked the hair covering your face aside. “what’s going on, (y/n)? what happened? you can tell me,”

  looking up into his concerned, round eyes, tears involuntarily began streaming down your face, wetting the pillow next to you. taehyung pulled you closer to his chest, letting the shirt he was wearing soak your tears. he did this to make you feel protected, but also hide your face from view, knowing that he can’t help but cry whenever he sees you cry first. ‘hey, what’s happening?” he whispered tenderly, caressing your head in his hand, holding you tightly. “please, please don’t cry, we’ll figure it out! tell me what’s wrong, baby,”

  “i don’t feel like i’m enough for you,” you sighed, your voiced stifled by the fabric of his shirt.

  “baby, i can’t hear you.” he rubbed your back, kissing your forehead. 

  half dejected, half angry, you howled, “i’m not enough for you!” taehyung’s sorrowful look morphed into an astonished one, eyes darting all over your face, mouth open, trying to say something, anything. “i… i just… i see you all the time with beautiful women who are the fucking definition of the beauty standard here, beautiful faces, bodies, personalities, and i just sit there and wonder what the fuck do i have that keeps you by my side?! whenever you leave for tours, i’m mortified that you’ll find someone better than me and replace me, and even worse, with all your disappearances, i’ve been starting to think that’s already happened! you look at that fucking stylist, who i have no right to be mad at, like she’s the apple of your eye! like she’s your girlfriend, like she’s the one whose been with you since day zero! my worst fear is that you could replace me at any given moment when you’re one of the only things that make me happy right now!” you sobbed, putting your head down to avoid taehyung’s gaze. “i’m not anything like the people here. it just hurts so much to see you spend more time away from me. i’m scared, taehyung, i’m so, so scared,” you hastily wiped your tears with the back of your hand, the loud gasps and hiccups from crying still audible, even when you tried to mute them.

 “(y/n), i… i didn’t know, i’m so sorry,” taehyung was at a loss for words, seeing you, his one true love, expose how demolished you were by all of the unspoken torment. his heart began to split in two, tears forming against the corners of his eyes. “look at me,” he whimpered, prompting you to look up at his reddened face, adam’s apple bobbing. “i didn’t know you were hurting this much… but, baby, really? i’ve loved you for nearly eight years at this point, do you think i’d leave you for some janky, flirtatious lady i’ve known for less than a year? you are more than enough for me: you listen to me when i’m hurting, you comfort me when i’m sad, you make me so, so fucking happy every single day, not to mention, are amazing in bed… i could go on. you’re the smartest, most talented, most fierce woman i’ve ever met in my entire life. you look doubt right in the eye and give it the finger all the time. why not this? you mean the world to me, and i’m sorry you ever even thought i’d cheat on you or lose my love for you. i love you more and more every single day. i love your mind, i love your beauty, i love your personality, but most importantly, i love you. i’m not lying when i call you the love of my life.”

  you smiled at your boyfriend laying in front of you, a couple tears falling from his eyes and onto the pillow, disappearing into the fabric. “you’re right, i’m sorry—”

  “nuh-uh,” he stopped you, putting a finger to your lips, shaking his head. “you didn’t do anything wrong. i’m sorry that i haven’t been giving you the attention you deserve, alright? i love you more than anything in the world. i swear, this will never, ever happen again.”

  “promise?” you moved closer to him, head tucked under his neck. taehyung tilt your chin upwards and kissed you compassionately, pulling away to look at you and take in your beauty.

  “i promise.”