#like realistically I know I should like. not purposely do things that end up hurting me or cause actually harm to my body

[gottarunfromthelaw]

On the one hand I have alot of self restraint when it comes to me doing things that I know will eventually hurt me but also I really want to do the things that will hurt me.

[hoonigiris]

— things we never said

s. jaeyun x gn!reader

wc: 1.8k genre: angst (i think) content: exes!au, mentions of alcohol consumption, aespa's ningning and winter cameos for naming purposes only. normal people inspired. misc. notes: thank you to the jake fuckers (@gluion @mosviqu) for being my motivation to 1) write this drabble and more importantly 2) Finish this drabble. kept you in my thoughts when i wrote this xoxo. also a specific thank you to @sungbeam for being the first person to read it in full. and lastly, a special thank you to paul mescal for being just the perfect amount of pathetic i needed in bbc's miniseries normal people.

synopsis: in which it's heeseung's wedding, jake's had too much to drink, and really, he just misses you. perhaps what happens after are the things he should never say.

jake’s shoes squeeze too tight around his toes.

realistically, through the haze of the alcohol, he knows he should be worried about other things. maybe any other thing, like how he needs to figure out how to get this champagne stain out of his shirt before his company dinner on friday, or how the bass of the dj's last set is still ringing in his ears, or how he's pretty sure this little escapade would probably qualify as date-ditching, considering the way yizhuo has been texting him 'where r u??' for the past twenty minutes.

jake's head buzzes, the aftertaste of his last beer resting firm on his tongue. in retrospect, perhaps the fourth glass he filled right before they cut the cake was one too many, but it’s too late to regret it now. the glass is sitting empty on the table, and instead of being out on the dance floor with the rest of his friends, jake is here—under the gazebo, heart in throat, phone in hand. his thumb hovers over the contact, still saved, and stares for a long time.

he shouldn’t. he knows he shouldn’t.

(not that it really matters. knowing better and doing better are two things jake has never been very good at keeping the same.)

he hits call.

the dial rings and rings and rings. jake can’t tell if he’s breathing or not, he just keeps listening to the endless tinny trilling. and then— 

“hello?”

“hi.” his voice catches. “it’s me.”

you pause, the silence crackling over the speaker. “what’s up?”

jake’s throat goes tight, tongue heavy as he tries to fumble his way around his words. your voice is just like he remembers, intimately close even from the speaker. he wonders what he can say, to make up for the months of not speaking to each other. how are you? how’s work? do you still set 5 alarms in the morning before you have to wake up so you can enjoy the feeling of going back to sleep?

“it’s heeseung’s wedding today,” he says eventually. you didn’t show up.

there’s a beat of silence, before:

“i know,” you reply gently, the silent accusation he doesn’t mean to throw landing softly between the two of you. “i already called him this morning to say congratulations. there’s a wedding gift that should be shipped soon, actually,” you continue, as if it makes your absence any better. “i think he’ll like it, you know. he’s been talking about getting that coffee grinder on his wedding registry before that registry even existed—”

“y/n.”

the line goes completely quiet, like you’re bracing yourself for what he could say next. normally he would leave it be, set down the phone and apologize and go back to the venue to celebrate with the rest of his friends. but right now, jake is drunk, and his head hurts, and all the sounds ring around him and merge together into a single sound, pressed tight against his ear. his chest feels rubbed raw, the burning question flickering and coming out all in a rush. “did you not come because of me?”

“jake,” you chide, almost immediately. he missed the way you say his name, even like this. “you know that’s not it.”

he laughs a little and rubs the back of his neck, feeling scolded. just like old times. “isn’t it?”

there’s a disapproving noise on the other end, like you take offense in him even having doubts. “you know i wish i could have been there.”

jake hesitates, just a little. it’s a stupid thought, and it would be even stupider to say, but he supposes he should keep the streak going, since he’s already started tonight. “you could still come.” 

you let out a small laugh, entertaining the thought. “yeah?”

jake nods, as if you can hear it. maybe you can. maybe you didn’t have to, to know. “yeah, the night is still young. i’m sure everyone would be happy to see you again—you could come right now, if you really wanted to.”

“and do what, exactly?” you tease.

he shrugs, smiling. “give a belated toast? we all gave one, you know.”

“oh, and heeseung agreed to that?”

“as if he could stop us,” jake counters. “we had to make sure the bride knew what she was marrying! one embarrassing story from each of us!”

“and pray tell,” you say, bemused, “what story did you share with the audience? no wait—let me guess.” you hum, as if tapping your chin for the exaggerated effect. “the time he tried to flirt with that senior in the library and fell on his ass because he missed the chair? or the time when—oh! what about when he got drunk and wanted to get matching tattoos with everyone and then started crying the second it started cause it hurt so bad?”

“no, actually,” jake laughs. “sunghoon and jay already took those. mine was about when he accidentally hit on riki’s mom the entire night and found out the morning after.”

“you better have turned those stories into anecdotes about how happy their marriage is going to be,” you warn wryly.

jake waves you off. “sunoo and jungwon got the sentimental part. we were in charge of making sure minjeong knew what she was getting herself into.”

you sigh exasperatedly, something rustling on your end. maybe the papers you were reorganizing on your desk, or the tinfoil on the table as you tried to heat up a late night snack. “so much for adulthood—all you boys are the same.”

the same. as if he wasn’t here and you weren’t there, so, so far away.

“you could still come.” jake repeats. it’s a sobering effect. at least, he’d like to think so, but he’s still trying his hardest for his tongue to not stumble over some words, and he can’t look at the fairy lights adorning the top of the gazebo for too long before his head starts to pound again. 

“you could tell your favorite memory of heeseung to make up for ours,” he continues, “write down your congratulations on the wedding book yourself. they’re even playing your favorite song right now, you could come and show everyone how it’s done.” jake fumbles with the ring on his index finger, twisting it with his thumb. the heel of his shoe scuffs once into the wood below his feet. it’s all too tight. “come—have fun. we could even pretend not to know each other.”

the line goes quiet. a breath drawn. and then, softly, “i would never pretend to not know you, jake.”

he blinks, swallowing hard. it would be funny, if it weren’t so sad, the way jake was the one who called you, yet he’s the one without anything to say. rather, the things he wants to say, he can’t. you would have cried at the vows, he thinks. the exchanging of promises at the altar, rings slipped onto each other’s fingers. you were always soft for those kinds of things. 

(everyone looked at heeseung and minjeong when they said their vows. the words creep up his throat; he pushes them back down. i thought of you instead.)

jake is sure everyone knows, to some degree, at least. it’s why heeseung looked at him a little strange when he saw his date at the entrance, why everyone seemed to avoid mentioning your name like the plague around him. it’s not for lack of trying—moving past you. it’s why he brought yizhuo along in the first place, why he’s been doing everything he can to distract himself, why he’s been trying his best to not think of you again.

but tonight was different. tonight, where all his friends are gathered to celebrate, and the alcohol in his system warms his skin as the evening air grows chilly, and everyone he loves is here within reach except for you, jake finds that he’s still admitting it to himself, even months after.

(i miss you. more words he can’t say to you anymore. i miss you, i miss you, i miss you.)

“sorry,” he says eventually. jake isn’t really sure what for. maybe all of it.

“i…” you start out, but it trails off into silence. maybe it would have been an apology to match, but he thinks you knew it wouldn’t have sounded right either. there wasn’t really anything left to say. jake is here, and you’re there, and that distance isn’t really something either of you can fill anymore.

across the garden, jake can hear his name echoing across the venue. he’s pretty sure it’s sunoo, telling him to get his ass on the dance floor to get down to the dj’s newest rendition of apple bottom jeans, but it all sort of meshes together between the bushes and the trees.

“you should go,” you say lightly. “dance off the rest of the alcohol so you don’t wake up with a massive hangover tomorrow.”

you knew. jake burns a little out of embarrassment, feeling a bit like a child with his hand caught in the cookie jar. he doesn’t know what’s worse, the fact that you could tell he was drunk from the beginning, or the fact that this meant you knew the first person he thought to drunk-dial was you.

“oh, don’t act surprised.” it’s a light-hearted jibe, but jake’s heart crawls up his throat and sits there, thick. “your pronunciation always gets sloppy when you’ve had too many drinks.”

of course you knew. you always did, like he never needed to say anything at all.

“you got me,” he responds, hoarse.

“what did you get this time? whiskey? margaritas? no way you got this drunk off hard seltzers—”

“beer.” sunoo calls his name again, closer, more insistent. “one too many.”

you laugh, and he wants to drown in it a little more, until he remembers it enough to not miss you anymore. “the great jake sim, taken down by an IPA.”

maybe he should thank it, if it got you to speak to him again. the skin sitting underneath his ring burns red. he needs to take off his tie. his shoes are still too tight around his toes. “i wish you were here.” maybe there were some things he needed to say, after all.

you smile, fond. he can’t see it, but there are some things about you he just knows, too. “bye, jake.”

but in the end, this is all there is to it: a him, and a you, and two versions of each other that you both can’t come back to. not anymore.

and that’s something that never needs to be said.

jake looks at the center of the altar, and he thinks he sees a glimpse of something else—the afterimage of love, a vision of two people left stranded from time. it disappears as quickly as it came. his breath hitches. there’s nothing left but this.

“bye, y/n.”

[ofbreathandflame-archive]

who do you think is the most realistic abuser between rhysand and tamlin?

Hi anon!!!

I feel like the overblown for Tamlin has a specific function, and so I usually end-up disagreeing with anti-Tamlin (not criticisms, but this particular crowd of people - if you know, you know ) sentiments. First and foremost, Tamlin and Rhys are purposely made into foils; that is, we are supposed to look at their actions and compare – once we get to MAF. In the first book, the story isn’t necessarily trying to make a point about Tamlin, so the ‘red flags’ being pointed out aren’t moments of intentional, tactical abuse.

I don’t think there’s an actual ‘realistic’ way to experience abuse. I don’t think it’s an adequate way to talk about abuse because there isn’t a universal experience with abuse. Everyone’s experience is different! There are signs, and staples that can help people identify abusive partners and/or experiences, but those experiences in and of themselves are unique, as is the response to abuse.  I’ve always thought of Tamlin as a blank canvas that can be imposed upon. He’s abusive, in the fact he does a string of abusive things. He has all the hallmarks of an abuser…but none of the threads that make him feel…like anything more than a canvas, in my opinion. Like – I see how people see their abuser in him, but I also don’t believe he’s a very consistent character. He doesn’t do things for the same reasons, as MaF tries to argue; he also doesn’t act the same between those books. It’s subjective, but character wise he doesn’t stay the same.  I’m sorry, but I genuinely disagree with the way Feyre characterizes Tamlin. If the story argues that Tamlin developed abusive tendencies because of his trauma, great! But like,,,the story tries to argue that he was always like that, and Feyre just never noticed and I just…disagree. I have my issues with Tamlin, naturally, but I think the reason Rhys is much scarier to me, is that he consistently has the same justification, with seemingly no introspection. He gets away with the abuse because he is constantly sympathized with. The only reason I don’t dislike Tamlin is because he faces consequences. Rhys doesn’t. He also does the same abusive things to Feyre in like…every book. He doesn’t have a character arc. So, it’s not realism I’m looking at, but consistency.

The more fruitful question should be consistency. Is the dynamic between Tamlin and Feyre consistent, and my answer to that is no. I don’t believe we get a pattern of abuse that is consistent across the two books Tamlin is heavily featured. Tamlin having anger issues is a characteristic that merely exists, for one, because Tamlin is naturally an adaptation of another character and therefore embodies those characteristics. It’s not to say that Tamlin doesn’t have a particular way of handling trauma (see: violence), but that consistently, Tamlin has always known to remove himself from the general public when he does. We never see him leverage his violence against his peers or Feyre ever – even when Feyre is effectively his prisoner. So while his anger is a consistent character trait, it isn’t a consistent abusive Trait. It’s also…the norm for stress relief in this society (see: Rhys + Cass + Az’s schedule beat downs to ‘calm rhys down’). He’s also never used violence against anyone in the entirety of TaR to ‘calm down.’

This is a change for Rhys, as discussed in a previous post, who actively does consistently leverage violence against Feyre (and his Inner Circle) since his introduction in the first book. Tamlin, as initially characterized, is revulsed so heavily by having to hurt his people, that he physically cannot go through with Amarantha’s curse. He chooses his people. He is disgusted with having to whip Lucien. He physically couldn’t stand what Amarantha did to Lucien’s eye – so much so that he vomited as soon as he saw it. In MaF, this entire dynamic (not just his abuse of Feyre, but of his citizens) becomes of focal point. The story tries to argue that Tamlin would willingly harm his own soldiers, and Lucien, when in the first book he literally stood against Amarantha and refused to participate in the curse, with no power. Tamlin doesn’t allow Feyre to leave the house in MaF, yet in TAR, when Feyre is attacked by those monsters in the forest, Tamlin literally just tells Feyre to be careful when she goes out, he tells her to stay close when he’s not there, and they leave it at that. Tamlin doesn’t ask Feyre ‘what does she want from’, as we established. All I’m saying is there’s no consistency in this behaviour. The story can’t even figure out whether Tamlin has always been like this or has just become like this.

And then my next question become has Tamlin ever leveraged violence against Feyre, prior to the events of MaF – and the answer is no. So not only is it not consistent on a character level, it isn’t even consistent between the dynamic between Feyre and Tamlin. When Tamlin initially falls in love with Feyre, he falls in love with the human girl. He doesn’t want a Lady – he doesn’t even believe he’s going to make it out alive. He falls in love with her because she isn’t just that, and he literally subtly shunned the way his mother would not say anything when his father became a tyrant. He’s essentially telling Feyre he doesn’t want her to be like his mother. So like, even that angle is again, not consistent with what we’ve seen. Snd because of this, people have purposely insert and add things to make him look like a worse character because like there’s nothing in that proves Tamlin is worse than Rhys as the book kind of argues.

[year2000electronics]

HIII I'm immediately obsessed w your Just Say Yes au like GRHRGGRH I'm gnawing on this foreverr. as a sweater twins enjoyer though it's UGHH. angst <3 . but angst </3

even when mabel and dipper eventually reconcile (because I'm getting the feeling they will, at least someday) could mabel and ford ever reconcile? I'd imagine she blames him more than she blames dipper for the whole ordeal, and with stan inadvertently kinda making it worse (not to mention bill just. being bill.)

UGH and he'd probably still be too stubborn to admit or apologize even to his niece (I say this w love I promise). god save ford from the wrath of an arts and crafts girlie. the multiverse couldn't prepare him for her.

this is a tough question, and one i have been GNAWING on. ive been working on a full plot for just say yes beyond just the initial premise (there's a lot of stuff i have to consider! i'm even trying to consider whether there even should be an eventual weirdmageddon or not) so its like, i dont know the ending to it all yet, but i know that i want like. a happy ending but REALISTICALLY happy, yknow? so its not all kittens and rainbows but i think dipper and mabel are definitely gonna make up and theres gonna be the chance to heal. the chance is so important.

but that still leaves the question of the stans, and by extension, the stans' now-splintered relationship with their "opposite" pines kids. its tempting to say mabel never want to talk to ford again, right? he came into their lives, punched their grunkle in the face, made everything awkward and stressful for the entire time he was there, and by the end of the summer, took her brother away and then was part of the reason he became a paranoid shut-in.

but i think it eats at her that they have something in common that nobody else currently alive can say they have.

a friendship with bill.

it's not JUST that bill is some master manipulator, its more about what he represents for both ford and mabel. both of them were approached by bill during a period in their life where they felt more lonely than they ever had before (especially in the wake of a rift between them and their twin) and bill purposely used that against them. how can they explain to people that they confided in bill, and they ignored the signs? how can they explain why on earth they would trust a DEMON? who could sympathize with the twins who sold the world?

i think thats what could be the key to mending the relationship between all four of them. ford being the one to reach out to mabel after everything's done, after she either helps billie bring about weirdmageddon or ALMOST bring it about depending on what i decide. i think for ford, whos been slowly realizing that he is hurting the people he loves, and has been forced to reckon with that because unlike fiddleford and stan, he's living with dipper and seeing him slowly grow into a reflection of his own negative traits. and he realizes that him and mabel separating was In Large Parts His Fault.

the fact that ford would reach out to mabel and try to extend the olive branch during the period of her life where she probably feels the most like a pariah, more alone than even before billie, to say "sometimes we do selfish things. but that doesnt make us irredeemable" is a sort of atonement for both her and himself, and also a way for him to admit that yes, he did hurt people

[prime-adeptus]

NOTHING IS LOST (YOU GIVE ME STRENGTH) – FUSHIGURO MEGUMI & READER

As minimal as this may seem, you wonder if he knows how much it means to you that he came. Your days have been lonely with you feeling increasingly out of touch with everything, but everything feels fine with Megumi by your side. Or, the one where you find your way back home.

TAGS.⠀gender-neutral reader; ambiguous relationship; childhood friends; aged-up au/canon divergence; brief smoking; angst & hurt/comfort; mental health issues, talks of death/suicide ideation, implied past suicide attempts; mild gore; near-death experiences; drifting apart and coming back together. hopeful/happy ending. SFW. 3,9k words

A/N.⠀my first work after so long and it's just a ventfic LOL sorry i have been looping phoebe bridgers and lorde for ages.

CROSS-POSTED ON AO3

For as long as you can remember, you’ve always felt things fervently.

One moment you’d feel euphoric, like you’re walking on air and nothing can get you down, but then everything crumbles and you’re left as nothing but an empty husk. It’s ironic how emptiness can feel so heavy, a constant weight on your shoulders, constant tugs at your heartstrings. 

Despite all the things you hate about yourself, there’s still one part of you that you’ll always remember with pride: there is no limit to the unconditional love you can give to people. It’s taken some time for you to decide you want to live and love as much as you can. 

But for some reasons you couldn’t fathom, these days, you feel as though your love is forced. Unnatural. Ingenuine. Like it’s just something you’ve gotten used to doing passively. Like you no longer believe, like you are living a lie. 

In a way, maybe you are. The longer you are surrounded by your fellow Jujutsu sorcerers, the more aware you become of how rotten this world can get. Plagued with death, unhappiness and turmoil on every corner, and with humans repeating the same mistakes, you’ve begun to believe that this is all hopeless. You’re well aware that it’s quite a pessimistic view to hold, but in the world that you are in, you find that it keeps you grounded. A realist. 

Or, as your beloved teacher Gojo Satoru would call you, a downer.

The sound of his voice referring to you as such makes you click your tongue in irritation. There’s not much you know about him, but the bitter part of you believes that  he  of all people should at least understand how you feel. You hold your position as a jujutsu sorcerer in high regard and with honour, but as time passes by, you’ve started to contemplate if it’s even worth it at all.

You wonder if people know that you weren’t always this way — as a child, you were bright-eyed and innocent, full of love for people and the world. Growing and going through life shattered it all, making you a husk of what you once were, and even now, you still don’t know who you’re supposed to be.

You lie and you cheat, tricking people into believing that you’re independent and fine on your own, but you are lonelier than words can describe.

And just what do you live for? You’ve survived time and time again by sheer instinct and reflex, but you still don’t know what your purpose is. You fight and you risk your life to keep other people safe at the cost of your wellbeing. Every day is a task to complete for the greater good, but what’s in store for you? You’ve grown distant from your parents — on your end, anyway; it’s difficult to read people — and your once close friends rarely contact you anymore. All you have are your peers, but you still feel so out of place among them. 

The cigarette burns between your fingers as you stare off into space by the edge of the river. At the mere age of nineteen, you feel as though you’ve lived several lives, all of which have harrowed you to no end. Nicotine flows in your system as you take yet another drag, wondering if this is what your youth was meant to be. Years of saving the city in favour of feeling like you’re wanted, needed should’ve made you feel happy. Yet here you are, alone in the streets of Tokyo, all because there’s nothing waiting for you at home.

“I didn’t know you smoked,” a voice says from beside you. It’s deep and quiet, almost monotonous, but you’d recognise the hint of concern anywhere. Megumi slightly grimaces at the sight of you exhaling a cloud of smoke.

“I don’t.” With a scoff, you put out the cigarette in the ashtray and turn to face him instead. “How’d you know I’d be here?”

He frowns. It amuses you how it seems to have been a permanent expression etched on his face since you were kids. You don’t remember if you’ve ever seen him with a different look, but that’s on you, you suppose. You haven’t spent much time with him for a while now. Time ages you and your weariness distances you from those you wish to stay close to.

When he doesn’t reply, you speak up again, “I'm trying.”

“I know.” He glances at you. As blunt as he sounds, you know he means well; that’s just the way he is. He looks like he has more to say but he doesn’t, instead opting to hand you a packet of your favourite mints. Any other time you’d take it as an insult, but you find yourself getting sentimental over the fact that he still remembers what you like. 

“Thanks,” you mumble, popping one into your mouth. “Sorry, it’s been a long day.”

The corner of his lips quirks downward for a split second. With a quiet sigh, he lightly flicks your forehead, not reacting at all to the indignant yelp you let out. 

“Where’s your jacket?” he asks in a chiding tone, though there isn’t any venom in it. “You’ll get sick. I don’t want you sneezing on me.”

“You always take care of me, though,” you grumble without thinking, putting on the jacket that was previously tied around your waist. Another beat passes before you realise what you’ve blurted out. Were you being too familiar with him? You’re not sure if he still wants to be friends after all that isolation you’ve been doing. You part your lips to apologise, but he interrupts with a huff and a flick to your forehead again.

“Shut up.” The pink flush on the tips of his ears betrays the irked expression he wears. You’re not sure whether it’s because of the chilly air or if it’s because he’s blushing, but it brings a smile to your face nonetheless. “Let’s go back.”

As minimal as this may seem, you wonder if he knows how much it means to you that he came. Your days have been lonely with you feeling increasingly out of touch with everything, but everything feels fine with Megumi by your side.

You were only twelve when you started seeing Curses everywhere you went.

You’d never been the type to get scared too easily, but there was something about those creatures that unsettled you to the core. They seemed horrifically disfigured and hungry, ready to pounce at any moment, and you could only be brave for so long. You tried telling your mother and your friends only to be met with suspicious and concerned looks. 

They thought you were crazy. You didn’t blame them for that. You never believed in the paranormal, so this sudden change must’ve been quite a shock. It wasn’t until two years later did you learn what they were and that you could exorcise them, somehow like they did in the horror movies. Your memory of your recruitment is hazy, but you did remember sitting with Megumi and Gojo in the car and asking the most questions you’ve ever asked in your lifetime. Your new teacher found it amusing; your classmate, however, did not.

Your mother didn’t seem to mind sending you to a boarding school. With an elaborate lie about your full scholarship told by Gojo, she’d beamed in joy and helped you pack your bags. She’d be too busy to actually notice your absence, but that didn’t stop her from sending a message to check in on you every once in a while. At some point, you stopped responding. Not because you were annoyed, but rather, you just didn’t have the energy to.

Ironically, for a school with quite a handful of staff and students, you never felt lonelier in your life. You stuck by Megumi’s side for the sole reason that he was the only one you felt comfortable enough to approach. You didn’t talk to him much, but he was good company and you came to consider him a friend. Eventually, he started approaching you as well, and you’d spend time together like regular friends would do. It felt nice to be able to be around someone and not have to explain yourself all the time. 

In hindsight, you think it’s your fault that you’re so distant from everyone now. You don’t quite know when it all began—the depressing thoughts, the near-uncontrollable impulses, the lack of care for your safety and well-being. Every time your teachers or a peer brought it up, you’d simply dismiss it as just a ‘hormone thing’ which seemed enough to make them stop asking. Megumi didn’t believe a thing. He doesn’t have to tell you for you to know that.

But what else could you do? You’re alone, and it’s not like anyone can help with whatever the fuck is happening in your head. Your mother got you in touch with professionals to help with your troubles, and even if she doesn’t say it much, you know she’s always worried sick and thinks you should just come home. You’ve been able to keep yourself in check since then, but with the sadness now mostly gone, you now have to deal with the void in your chest that plagues you constantly.

The forest surrounding the dormitories is quiet save for the leaves rustling in the wind and the cicadas chirping their evening tune. You’re not sure how long it’s been since your last official mission. You haven’t been good at keeping track of the time for a while now. But at the very least, you know that it’s been too long.

There’s no doubt Gojo had something to do with it, you think bitterly. Otherwise, you’d be as busy as your peers right now. If there’s one thing you hate about this place, it’s the fact that no one here ever really gives you a proper reason. You feel trapped, ignored, and maybe if you were more carefree you’d look past it, but you’re not. If they didn’t believe in your abilities, you’d show them; you don’t think being the underdog is that bad, after all. Maybe they’ll finally recognise your prowess and respect you.

With your heart pounding hard against your chest, you grab your ootachi and flee, letting your instincts guide you to wherever feels the most dangerous, exciting. The more rational part of you tells you that you’re going to be in trouble if you don’t turn back now, but you find that you really couldn’t care less.

You need to feel alive. You need to feel afraid, to feel something, anything. While you don’t mind resting, you also didn’t overwork yourself to the bone just to remain stagnant. You didn’t spend weeks training with every weapon the school had to offer just to let them rust. You didn’t hone your cursed techniques only to not use them at all. So punishment and criticism be damned, you’re going to do what you want whether people like it or not.

You find yourself standing in front of a dingy abandoned shrine in the woods. Unease settles in the air as you slowly creep into the light of the moon. It’s dim, incredibly so, but you can’t afford to be afraid of the dark now —you have something to prove, and you’re not going to let yourself be intimidated by something so childish. There are blood splatters on the cobblestone steps, both fresh and dried, and your grip tightens on the handle of your sword. Your instinct to fight rears its head within your body, adrenaline and the humane need to survive rushing through your veins, but you breathe and try to rein it all in.

You have to think.

(It’s quite ironic how for someone who doesn’t give a single shit about their life, you always fight your hardest so you can live.)

You take another step. A twig snaps beneath the weight of your foot. The dried leaves crunch and rustle like someone (or rather, something) is sizing you up, keeping itself unseen to take you by surprise. Incomprehensible gargled sentences echo from within and the stench of death and decay grows stronger. Even when fear starts to wrap you in its cold embrace, you walk through the gate and into the dark shrine. Your blood runs cold and your breath gets caught in your throat, but you force yourself to face the task at hand.

You’re met with a grotesque mass of green; all of its endless bloodshot eyes leer at you as its tendrils slither in your direction. Misshapen hands protrude from those tendrils and reach for you, taunting you with the blood and entrails stuck to their skin and nails, telling you that you are next. 

Not today.

An aura of black and purple coats your sword as you withdraw it from its sheath. It’s not the best space to utilise such a long sword—the shrine is somewhat cramped and is lacking in space for mobility, much less combat —but you grit your teeth and decide that you will adapt. Electricity crackles from your blade, and without any more hesitation, you charge. Its tendrils are faster than you had anticipated; they come close to wrapping themselves around your legs until your cursed energy latches on to them and forces them to disintegrate.

The curse glares at you in fury. You can practically hear your heartbeat as you slash through its tendrils, splattering the wooden floors with its steaming blood. A guttural growl leaves the curse and the air feels thicker; it’s getting hard to breathe and your vision is starting to fade. 

Am I going to die here?

There’s a sharp pain in your gut. The sword slips out of your grasp and blood sputters out of your lips. When you look down, you realise that the curse has pierced through you.

It hurts it hurts it hurts it fucking hurts.

But you can’t die here. Not like this, not without a fight.

Shakily, weakly, you put your hands together, breathe, and with the last of your strength, you fire a powerful blast that hits the curse square in the centre, making it screech in pain. Vapour rises from its form as it melts into the ground and eventually dissipates. A relieved sigh leaves you, but then the world spins, your body hurts even more, and before you know it, everything goes dark.

You fall into nothing.

(Somewhere not too far from the shrine, apprehension crawls into Fushiguro Megumi’s system.

He doesn’t hesitate. He follows the curse residue and he runs.)

You wake with a dull ache between your ribs.

The first thing you see is never-ending walls of white. There’s a generic decorative painting on the wall along with an old clock that tells you it’s a quarter past noon. Blearily, you realise that you’re in the infirmary, and judging from the soreness that spreads through your body and into your limbs, you’re still alive.

Somehow, you’re not as happy about it as you should be.

You feel like you’ve been through hell and back. In a way, you did. You’re too tired to regret your poor decisions from who knows how long ago, and you’re not a stranger to deliberately ignoring whatever makes you feel like shit. So you do just that all while staring blankly at the wall in front of you, hoping that you’ll eventually fall asleep again and forget. Maybe even not wake up until the month ends.

(You’ve come to a realisation that you don’t want to die anymore; you just want to stop existing for a while, get yourself together then come back when you’re ready. Like pausing a game or a video being played, you don’t lose the progress, but you sure as hell forget what the hell happened earlier.)

The door slides open. You contemplate pretending to be unconscious again, but your ears pick up heavy footfalls on the tiled floor and you decide maybe you shouldn’t. 

“Hey, Ieiri-sensei,” you croak out, weakly raising two of your fingers in a peace sign. “I’m alive and moving.”

She hums, amused as she makes her way over to your bedside. “Yes, you are. How are you feeling?”

“Like shit?”

“Good. You would’ve been dead if Fushiguro-kun hadn’t found you. Can you stand?”

She gently urges you off the bed, hoisting you up by the shoulders as you try to maintain balance after being bedridden for hours. Or days. Or even weeks. You’re not sure.

“You’ve been unconscious for three days.”

The concerning duration of your bedridden state goes completely ignored. All you can think about is the mention of Megumi. 

You would’ve been dead if Fushiguro-kun hadn’t found you. 

“What do you mean he found me?”

She smiles wryly. “That boy’s been worried about you. Ran off from Satoru as soon as he felt a ‘weird pressure.’ What were you fighting?”

You shrug and wince at how stiff you feel. God, you hate this. Your legs are shaky as she helps you walk out of the infirmary and on the familiar path back to the dormitories. The school is quiet, making you wonder where everyone’s gone for the day.

“Some curse thing. Had tentacles and slimy skin. It was gross.”

“Well, that thing punctured you right there.” She gestures toward your chest. “Surprisingly it didn’t hit any vital organs, but you still lost a lot of blood. Did you exorcise it in the end?”

“I did.” A beat of silence passes. “Am I in trouble?”

“Yaga-sensei’s suspended you for a month. Oh, Fushiguro-kun. Just in time.” She helps you sit on a stone bench as Megumi approaches, his fingers furling and then relaxing by his sides. “They still need some support when they’re walking, but they’re healing quickly. They’ll be fine..”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“I’m still in my thirties, silly.” She ruffles your hair affectionately. “Be careful, hm? Come see me if there’s anything else.”

As Ieiri-sensei takes her leave, Megumi sits down next to you on the bench. His brows furrow the same way they always do when he’s thinking of how to say something nicely. He opts for silence instead, eyeing you cautiously. It almost feels offensive, but it’s only then that you’re aware of the bandages that cover essentially your whole upper body, so you brush it off. If someone else were in your position, you’d be worried sick too.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen him this visibly upset (well, for someone like Megumi anyway) over anything, and knowing that it’s because of you strikes you with a pang of guilt. With your lips pursed, you avoid his demanding look and glance at your hands instead. The bruises have almost faded away by now. Ieiri-sensei must’ve worked herself to the bone to patch you up.

“I’m not happy, Megumi.” Your throat closes up and your nose burns as the tears start to form and fall. “I’ve been trying to force myself to feel something. It didn’t matter what it was. I just hate being like this all the time.”

It hurts to cry. It hurts trying not to. Your state of mind is in tatters and you’re desperately doing your best to hold yourself together, but the way he’s looking at you makes you drop your guard completely.

“I know I’m surrounded by people, but I still feel so alone.”

Megumi doesn’t say anything. That’s fine, you think. The last thing you’d want to do is pressure him to speak his mind. He takes every word into consideration and thinks a lot by default, and if he’s still the same boy you knew all those years ago, he’d prefer to let his actions speak for themselves. 

“You didn’t have to come for me,” you murmur. “I’m sure you’ve got things to do.”

“No.” He pauses for a moment as if he’s trying to formulate what he wants to say into words that won’t feel like jabs. He huffs quietly. “I want to stay with you.”

Hearing him say those words practically has you melting on the spot, your heart fluttering as warmth rushes to your cheeks. You reach for his hand instinctively and with the slightest bit of hesitation, he responds by lacing your fingers together. 

“I’m sorry.” Your voice comes out barely above a whisper. You don’t know if it’s because you’re still exhausted or if it’s because you’re worried you’ll upset him somehow. Either way, it takes so much out of you just to talk anymore. “I’m trying.”

He squeezes your hand softly. “I know.”

“I say that to you a lot, don’t I?” you chuckle, leaning against his shoulder. I’m trying. You tell it to him every time you don’t have anything else to say, but it hardly feels true. Or maybe you’re just overly critical of everything you do, expecting yourself to reach certain heights before you consider yourself enough. 

“You are trying,” Megumi says. “Even now.”

You smile weakly. “You think so?”

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.” He lets go of your hand and your heart sinks, wondering if you’d done or said something wrong, but then he gently flicks your forehead the same way he always used to do when you were kids. “I found you bleeding out on the ground.”

“Pretty gnarly, wasn’t it?” you joke, laughing nervously. He shoots you a glare that shuts you up immediately.

“We were worried about you,” he continues, ignoring your interruption. “I was worried about you. I thought you were going to die.”

“Is this the part where I tell you that all jujutsu sorcerers die at some point?”

“No.”

“I’m sorry,” you say meekly, “I didn’t know I was that important to you.”

“We grew up together.” You feel a slight weight as he rests your head on top of yours with a sigh. “You’ve always been with me. I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t there.”

It’s unusual for him to be this open about his feelings; he’s never been the overly sentimental type like you are, so to have him be this vulnerable with you makes you feel like you’re going to burst. The cool breeze passes by as you hesitantly take his hand again, and for the first time in so long, you find yourself genuinely smiling. He cares about you. He loves you, despite what that voice in your head tells you otherwise. It’ll take a while for you to change or get used to knowing these things, but for him, you’ll do everything you can. You’ll live — if not for yourself, then for him. And as slow and tedious as your path to recovery may be, both physically and mentally, you think that it’ll be worth the endeavour because you’re not alone. 

You are loved.

You are loved by him, and for now, that is enough to quell every anxiety in the back of your mind.

You glance at him. “Wanna watch a movie later?” 

Almost imperceptibly, he smiles back. “Sure.”

(You never end up finishing the movie.

Halfway through, exhaustion gets the better of you, and you fall into a deep sleep on the bean bag you borrowed from the recreation room. When you wake in the morning, you’re sore and aching all over, but the blanket draped over your frame and the arm around your waist makes you forget about it for a moment.

With a content smile, you curl closer.

He’s still the same Megumi you’ve always known.)

[bonefall]

Looking for advice since you're great with stuff like this: I'm struggling with how to have a character fundamentally change. A character in my cat story loses his memory and ends up working with the main characters to stop his own plan he made to destroy the world (and after the plan is stopped, he regains his memories). I want his time in the Starless to change him, make him less obsessed with power, but I'm really starting to struggle with whether or not that makes sense and how to work that.

Hmm.. well, first bit of advice I always give is that characters are not people. They are writing tools. That doesn't mean they shouldn't be "realistic" or that connecting to the human traits in the audience isn't important.

It means that a character exists to tell a story.

By "tool" I mean "machine." Every trait is a piston, and ideally they work together to drive your story along. What are you saying with each trait? What is your beginning point for the story, and their end? What do you want to explore? What do you want the audience to take away?

So if you feel stuck on a character, find the larger message you want to impart with them. The job they're doing in your narrative.

What do you want to say about power?

What do you want to say about why Character X wanted to destroy the world? Why was he wrong? What feelings and information lead him to that conclusion?

What is his redemption arc doing for your themes?

Every writer answers those questions differently. For example, I feel strongly that power doesn't corrupt, it reveals. When you finally have the influence to make others do what you want, you make them do it. I don't see "power" as being like... a magic, abstract thing, it's influence over other people, and those people are ALSO individuals with their own reasons for following the leader.

Digressing; what I'm getting at is that, as a writer, I have a lot of thoughts on power itself. I got this way with a lot of reading and interest on the topic. You might find it insightful to experience more art, essays, and commentary on the subject, if you ever get stuck, and develop an opinion you feel strongly about.

Not just about power, as broad writing advice.

Anyway.

If I was writing the character, these are the things I'd be thinking about specifically and changes I'd be making on personal taste. I don't know your full story enough so, hopefully it's insightful;

First of all I'm always SUPER wary of the "correct but demonized radical" trope. Does my villain have a point?

Am i just giving them a Kick-a-Baby scene to make them wrong when they should be completely right otherwise

What are my themes and tone? This is VERY important. Steven Universe is about family and emotions with low stakes violence; the Diamonds are essentially abusive grandparents that Steven is coaching through intergenerational trauma. They fit the universe they're in. Jack Horner does not belong in SU.

So I'd look at Character X's purpose.

Knowing me, I'd actually take out full amnesia entirely. I have memory problems related to trauma so I'm a lot more familiar with major, important details blotting out RIGHT when I need them. Enough that I can put myself in the shoes of someone like BB!Fallenleaf who remembers a lot but the details are fuzzy.

So personally I think I could write this villan to be VERY funny lmao

"Hello. I am Gnagnathor the Destroyer."

"No you're not. He has three horns. You have two."

(DID I USED TO HAVE THREE HORNS?????)

I also just find it more resonant when a character still remembers what they did, why they did it, and is able to refute themselves with their own growth.

To me like... when a character remembers NOTHING to the point where they're not informed by their actions or history at all, how are they really still the same person?

in general though I find total amnesia uninteresting. I wish it was less popular.

What did Gnagnathor DO with his power? What did he WANT from it?

The simplest version of this I know is "Gnag was hurting and wanted everyone else to hurt too. Now that he has a happy place, he doesn't want that."

TO BE CLEAR THATS FINE. That's a REALLY common power fantasy and it's not automatically a bad story. It's popular for a reason.

Personally I feel strongly about the idea, though, that people with power don't change unless they lose it. There's no reason to.

People don't change until you break the environment that contributes to the behavior.

Especially with victims unfortunately-- the ugly truth is that a lot of problematic behaviors exist because they protected the victim from their abuser's actions. You need safety to really start to unpack that.

You can personally identify it and address it as much as you want, when your abuser starts to use That Tone you will still seize up. Just try to yank yourself back into your head when you're disassociating during a screaming session; your reward is raw distress.

That said, not all villains HAVE to have tragic motivators like that, or be ex-victims at all. Leveraging power to get what you want can be as ugly as just being taught the people you're hurting are subhuman.

Or making up justifications for why This Is a Good Thing Actually.

Some people will lash out violently when these justifications fall apart, because accepting it would mean they're Being Bad

Most people have an innate desire to Be Good. Like... the vast, vast majority of people. Some sense of morality is observable in all intelligent social animals; dolphins, chimps, elephants.

Tangentially, if you understand that people don't WANT to be bad and that the natural response to a scolding is defensiveness, you understand that convincing people of something is a LOT easier when you approach with kindness.

AND IN TURN: be wary of those who are flattering while trying to convince you of something. This is Manipulation 101.

So back to Gnagnathor

Do I want to talk about environment and how it changes him to be away from power? How traits that previously earned him wealth or influence are suddenly incredibly taboo, so he can't use them here?

On that-- HOW did he get his power in the first place? Re: I'm very wary of the "correct but demonized radical" trope.

Were his minions following him because they have serious issues and he exploited their desperation? .....are you centering the experience of the poor, sad abuser over his victims

Or are they ALL united over something important and legitimate? With the redemption of their villainous leader, how are you planning for that to frame all of their former followers?

(This is why redeeming minions is usually a lot more productive than doing it to the leader, imo. Redeeming Zuko means you can explore the familial legacy, the indoctrination of the Fire Nation's children, their justifications, the way systems make monsters out of people. Redeeming The Firelord would probably have caused Azula, one of his victims, to pick up his slack and now, suddenly, you have a VERY uncomfortable situation where Ozai is thrashing one of his abused children but Good This Time.)

(Not to mention that, again... why would he do this. He has power. He's doing what he wants and is used to this situation. It would be a numbskulled narrative choice.)

Aaaand that's about all I can say without essentially being a cowriter or editor. It's on you to figure out what you're trying to do and say here. I'm a good writer on this subject because I think about it a lot, which has lead to my strong opinions and point of view. Your art is a reflection of you.

[carpedzem]

hi

under the cut i want to talk a little bit, maybe overshare as well. ill try to keep it short (rereading nat here. i didnt). its a sad post, might make some of you angry but not for the reasons you think

i was staying away on purpose, but a few people asked about me so i wanted to let you know that hey, im lurking, im waiting to see what happens. maybe some things will change in the future but im putting it out here so its all in one place

i think i want to start with saying thank you again for sticking around, supporting my art and my thoughts and having discussions with me. i really opened up about myself and what I created here. im very anxious person and it influences my life on every level, so being heard, seeing people laughing at my jokes, loving my art has been so so important to me

about the situation, the gogcident if you will, i logged out as soon as i saw things going down and been getting updates though different source. and while situation is still on going and i dont know where it will go, as how it ends, theres two or three things im firm on that will always be true for me:

i really hate how believe all victims turns into believe everyone who speaks first, no matter what they say, no matter context, no matter proof. the first statement made in this case was untrue in a lot of important details and while i dont think caitis feeling are wrong or invalid i think her first statement made this situation into something it isnt. i think every victim should be heard but attacking everyone who was accused right away is not a solution

i do believe that everyone who was accused of anything has every right to defend themselves. the way its constantly taken away from dteam is not lost on me and its insane and upsetting

you can be traumatized by the events that werent in its core meant to be traumatizing. sometimes people act shitty and leave scars on you and sometimes you can do the same to other people

edited note bc i want this to be here as well: guilty until proven innocent is a crazy mindset and i cannot imagine situation that i would allow it. some idiots dont even realise how dangerous rhetoric that is. including accusers not being obligated to provide any proof of their claims

twt is the worst thing to deal with any discourse, misunderstanding or any delicate situation. i think no ones there cares for any victims period. i wish that place the worst

okay so what now. i havent decided yet. georges and dreams moves so far confirmed for me that no matter what happened it wasnt with malicious intentions. ill wait to see how this plays out and then ill decide about my next steps. one think i did for sure is i uninstalled twt from my phone (and that already bit my ass the moment dream started his space…) that part of fandom, both people who like (liked?) and hate dream is so damn self-destructive, toxic, manipulative and performative it wasnt worth it anymore. for here, i dont know yet. i dont hate dteam, i think this is very unfortunate and sad and complicated situation that left people very deeply hurt. and i wish it wasnt this way and im pretty sure dteam also wish that. but they cant change it and i cant change it even more

now this is something i dont really know how to tell you but let me try. i never mentioned this bc when i had those realizations, it was too late, everyone moved on and i felt stupid for dwelling on this. i feel stupid now, typing this. the thing is, drituation left me quite traumatized. fucking pathetic, i know. the sudden explosion of fandom left me really badly hurt. i lost a lot of people i genuinely believed to be friends with, and i miss them dearly. i felt, fuck it, still feel deeply betrayed by some of them. i dont want people guess who is who thats not the point, those people moved on long time ago. but that hurt has been really difficult to deal with, especially since realistically i know its quite stupid. crying over some people who were following me back for a few months? but i tried to let myself heal and grow love for this community again and i thought we will be okay. drituation felt like the end of the world but we got through it and I thought we are smarter. and well. im not trying to blame anyone or even a whole community, idk maybe i want to blame the universe for putting me here or society for working this way i dont know. but im hurting and i need to find a better way to deal with things going the wrong way. and it deeply upsets me but im afraid that i have to learn how to love you all less. and i honestly dont know yet what that means, how moving forward will look like. i dont have to make this decision now so i let myself stay away from social media for a while still and then go with presented situation the best i can. i dont try to make anyone responsible for my wellbeing i want to make this clear. im just trying to share my feelings and give you context for whatever happen in the nearest future. no matter what i need more healthy relationship not even with ccs but with community itself (and if you see me rebloging hazbin hotel fanarts. spare me...)

in this place i do want to state that no matter what i dont think dteam are bad people. im not closing myself at possibility of participating in the fandom, probably less though things i mentioned earlier. but if any of those things make you uncomfortable in any way, feel free to unfollow/softblock

im leaving my askbox open if anyone has anything to say, add, or idk, scream at me. not sure if i answer any tho. also if i delete this post in the next 10 minutes out of embarrassment then well, haha

on the final note i want once again thank you all for supporting me when i needed help for my cat. you all did something amazing, something i will never forget and i wish to hug everyone of you in person. thank you

see you around. one day. maybe tomorrow maybe in 10 days. idk

and if you are moving on in different direction, if we ever meet again, dont be a stranger

[deliriumbubbles]

After all the discourse about who was "more" wrong, It's exciting to see Apology Tour put the foot down and remind us that this is Blitzo's story. It's about how he changes and grows. It's not about just letting it go because we know he hates himself. You actually have to take steps toward improvement, and that's really fucking hard to do.

Are there psychiatrists in Hell? Cognative Behavioral Therapy?

So first off, anyone who was dying for Blitzo to be the one sending tons of text messages and coming back trying to talk to Stolas, congrats because he's definitely doing that. And annoying the crap out of Stolas and just hurting him more every time he talks to him because he keeps trying to make them revert their relationship BACK to "I'm just here as part of a transactional fucking." The big problem between them, that he can't believe that Stolas would like him even though Stolas has told him multiple times by now, remains because it's not something he can just hear once and get over.

Moreover, this is his story, so he's just going to say more hurtful things, but Stolas at least, this time, manages to use his own words (likely bc he's not triggered at that point and has some defenses up), and is able to tell Blitzo that his words are hurtful. Instead of magicking him out. Because Blitzo would just pop back over the wall.

So we get a brief, humorous montage of Blitzo going around and apologizing to everyone and not meaning it and he ends up at the Fuck Blitzo party and by degrees, and after Stolas singing a song that suggests that he still kind of blames himself for being foolish and thinking Blitzo cared, it does start to sink in and they talk a bit.

Interesting that this is the first time Blitzo has SEEN Stolas knocking it back because we the audience know he does this kinda regularly. Along with his own damn meds. Geez, these guys.

I also like that they didn't have to villainize Verosika in their conversation. She got hurt because it seems like their relationship was going pretty well until she let an ilu slip and that just sets Blitzo off because he can never believe that. It's like being compliment shy to a million degrees. And so he turned on her, he hurt her, on purpose, and she's angry because of what he did but also because he acts like it's her fault.

IS this party a monument to pettiness? Oh fuck yeah, it is. Maybe people should just learn to let go. I dont' think that's her entire career, but now whenever they're near each other, they both snipe at each other because she was hurt and doesn't feel like forgiving him when he's not sorry. But it was a good conversation between them. Blitzo hit another milestone, admitting out loud that he doesn't want to have to be like this forever. He does it deliberately, and it doesn't excuse it, but he's seeking change. He had to get here before moving forward.

So. Now he's had "a fucking minute" to process what Stolas said, has said, keeps on saying. He's heard that Stolas craves someone to love and want him. It's out there that Blitzo stopped Striker the first time. Unspoken things are moving forward.

I heard people fussing about this being their make up episode, but given the next ep (which probably will be in October), Blitzo needs to be at a low before he starts turning things around. It's his show and more than anything, the arc with Stolas is highlighting how he can't accept good things happening to him.

Stolas still has things he needs to work on as well. Highlighted in this episode is getting a more realistic sense of what romance is kind of like because he's basically a babygay rn. He doesn't have to have another full on relationship to realize that other people could want him. It could happen, but it's not necessary. He just has to recognize that he's not unlovable. That's not the problem with Blitzo. And for him to heal from his father and Stella he does need a little more experience.

Headcanon for me: Stolas and Verosika are gonna be besties after this until I'm proven otherwise.

[howlsofbloodhounds]

Delta anon here, and on the idea of Killer purposefully knocking off Delta's items and breaking them, and then feigning innocence - I have three ideas.

Idea one: Delta starts acting out in malicious compliance.

This can either lead to Delta pretending not to care about his broken items and passive aggressively telling Killer something along the lines of, "Oh no, it's so obviously not your fault, you just can't help yourself, just be careful next time, you're better than this". With the most passive aggressive smile they can give. It pisses Killer off into stopping that game. Or that Delta suddenly does it back - but because Color and Epic generally know him as sorta clumsy, he gets away with it much better - its an uneven pattern of accidentally breaking one of Killer's things, fake apologizing (it kills them to apologize to him, but in order to make it seem realistic, they force themselves to), offering help in cleaning it up, and overall really making it seem like it's an accident. Something that he's much better at than Killer, because I'd imagine Killer does it at every opportunity - Delta does it when it's easy enough to make himself feign innocence.

There is no pattern for Killer to pick up on and Killer has no idea when it'll coming, if it comes at all. It drives him crazy not knowing if or when Delta will break something, or what it is that they'd break. And if he tries to bring it up to Color, it'll probably get blown off as Delta was just clumsy that day, or had accidentally dropped it. Delta only does it to unimportant but specific things. He wouldn't break something that could give away what he's doing.

Idea two: Delta fakes that something Killer broke is Color's, or that Killer broke something of Delta's that is actually Color's.

Going with the first one of Delta pretending like Killer broke one of Color's things. In that instance, the minute he hears that glass shatter and he turns, instead of getting mad like usual, Delta fakes shock and asks "why the hell did you break Color's mug??" Which obviously ruins Killer's fun as he begins to panic. Delta enjoys the panic immensely, and even more so when Color returns and Killer gets frantic. Obviously Killer would eventually find out that Delta had lied about the mug being Color's, but it would be suspicious enough so that Color questions if he was breaking Delta's stuff on purpose.

Now, for tricking Killer into breaking one of Color's things. Delta would only do this as a last resort. In this situation, he would take out one of Color's mugs and pretend it's his. Killer breaks it on 'accident'. Delta acts surprised, and so does Color. Color immediately asks why Killer broke his mug. Confused, Killer says he thought it was Delta's. Color corrects him and says it's actually his, and why would you want to break Delta's things? Have you been doing this on purpose?

Obviously Killer would panic as his game was finally caught, and Delta plays right along. He'd probably say that he was just getting Color's mug out for him, so what's the point of breaking it? What is wrong with you?

In both these situations, the end goal remains - Delta gets Killer caught somehow. And it brings him great joy to see how Killer panics as he's caught.

Idea three: Killer eventually starts breaking more and more things that Delta holds close. Eventually it would escalate to either personal items, or that Delta literally just doesn't bring his items around Killer ever.

If Killer broke a personal item, Delta would obviously start a fight pretty quickly. And upon being questioned by Color for why he started the fight, he'd finally snap and explain all the things Killer was doing in breaking his stuff. This also gets Killer caught, and in a lot more trouble.

Thoughts?

This does put a smile on my face. Someone should choke Killer or kick his teeth in. (Or maybe not. Not only would that bitch enjoy it, that’s probably exactly the reaction he’d trying to provoke in Delta.

Make him angry enough to hurt Killer, and Killer gets to live in his cozy little world where everyone can be pushed in just the right way to hurt or want to hurt, and maybe with the extra validation and satisfaction of Color protecting or defending him.

((Bro needs to realize that neither he nor Color would be genuinely happy just retreating into their own little world and forgetting everything or everyone else. That’s not gonna make your world feel any safer little dude.))

But ultimately I’m always a fan of Killer having his bullshit turned right back around on him—especially with the idea of possibly breaking something of Color’s stuff or somehow hurting him. Haha fuck face that’s what you get. (Little bro needs to realize how his actions have consequences and could also hurt Color. You aren’t protecting Color, you’re protecting yourself.

I can imagine itd hurt to think that someone you cared so much about and risked so much for, who you thought trusted you, thought of you as someone who would just leave the second they become “boring” or “useless.” I’m sure itd hurt Color a lot to know that Killer thinks of him like that, that Killer thinks he has to do or say things to keep Color happy and to make him stay with him.

As if Color doesn’t want to truly be around him, as if he doesn’t truly love or care about Killer, as if Killer is some burden or charity case to him. He understands why, he knows exactly why Killer thinks this way—he knows who made him think like that, and he knows that once upon a time it was a a reality for Killer—but that doesn’t mean it won’t hurt. Especially since it’s also hurting Delta and Beta.)

But ultimately I like to think that Color manages to slowly introduce Killer and Delta to eachother—at a proper pace for Stage 1’s fear and Stage 2’s terrorital behavior. It’s unlikely to fully make things perfect, im certain Killer will end up starting something, but hopefully killer and delta will manage to eventually get on better terms. (That’s kinda a lie lmao I love the drama. But also it’d be funny if it just becomes how they behave with eachother now, only no more breaking personal shit and playing mind games. And no more killer trying to genuinely hurt delta somehow.)

(Also on the topic of delta pretending to help pick up what he dropped—gave me an image of Killer watching Delta bend or lower down to pick stuff up and Killer literally just kicking him in the face or stomping on his head like he did to Swap in the comics. Little bro’s gonna be shaking with the urge to resist it lmao—probably mindful of how far he can actually go to avoid upsetting Color. Assuming this is a Killer that’s actually trying to get better. Otherwise he might just immediately act on that urge 💀.)

[sleepy-ace-dragon]

So, Woman of the Hour. What a film. It is rare that I come across a movie that means so much to me. This movie is the female experience. Unfortunately, I do not think many men will understand the movie at all.

Spoilers ahead! (and trigger warnings)

My review is probably very controversial when it really shouldn't be.

I know it's not entirely factual, if you want factual, watch something else. Woman of the Hour takes the story and uses it to tell a different story. One of women and the way we are treated. And no, I don't think it's a criticism on old-Hollywood, I think it's a criticism on then and now and everything in between. Because I watched this movie and I felt seen as a woman in 2024. I have never experienced old-Hollywood. I have experienced this movie.

People (mostly men) are constantly touching the women in this movie and invading their space, whether it be physical closeness or lingering in their homes. The women are discouraged from being themselves, taking up space, having opinions, etc. And they are always being violated in these little ways that add up to a lifetime of discomfort. And that's the truth of the female experience is that we rarely get to be comfortable.

The question, "what are women for?" really made me think because I don't know how I'd answer it. I don't think women are "for" anything. We are just people who determine the purpose for our existence like anyone else. But I think it was an excellent question to ask men in a movie about women. And I think realistically, a lot of men would have a hard time answering this in a way that isn't horrible. A lot of men do think that women are "for" something, probably "for" them, and it shows.

The question, "will he hurt me?" is VERY important and is a question every woman asks herself constantly. Charlie the stewardess doesn't know but needs help and ends up being hurt by him. She probably thought that at worst he would grope her, not kill her. Women are responsible for their own safety and are always to blame when someone chooses to hurt them. She shouldn't have worn that. She shouldn't have gone there. She should have known. Even though he chose to hurt her. It's her fault.

The scene where Amy wakes up from being brutally raped and must ask the man who hurt her if he is okay? I felt that so deeply. I know what it is like to be the victim and have to comfort the perpetrator. To know that I will not survive if I do not protect a man from his own actions. I knew what Amy would say because I have said it. Because it is the only thing she could say. Women are strong and smart and they need to be. Just in a way that isn't obvious. We have to be strong enough to hold the feelings of our abusers, reassure and comfort them, convince them that we believe it was our fault, that we don't think less of them. We have to be very smart to navigate the fragile ego in very dangerous moments, when the wrong move with a volatile man could be the end.

The violence of this story was very respectful to the victims. I really appreciated a true crime story that didn't play for entertainment because true crime is not entertaining. True crime is educational to a woman, I have learned what not to do in many situations, but mostly I have learned that there isn't much I *can* do when it really comes down to it. If someone wants to hurt me, they will find a way. And I will lock my doors and yell fire and use the buddy system, but it won't matter because I am not safe and I never was. But it will be my fault.

[stardust-moth]

Don't mind me, just resurrecting my blog from beyond the grave for the sole purpose of ranting about Mileven

ST fans and Mileven/Mike-antis really be out here missing the entire fucking point of this conversation??? "Mike is lying/gaslighting/in denial! Clearly he doesn't really love her!" (First of all, ya'll literally don't know what gaslighting is, but that's a conversation for another post) No, actually-- it's not about how Mike feels, or even about how he expresses it. It's about how Eleven has PTSD.

Her life in the lab with Brenner essentially taught her that love is conditional, particularly about her abilities. She only received praise or affection if she impressed Papa with her powers; she was shunned and punished if she refused or couldn't do it.

We see this mentality carry over into her life after the lab as well-- if she fails, she feels immense guilt.

Often she pushes herself past her limits, insisting she can do it; because in her mind, if she can't, then she's no longer worthy of love.

Now that her psychic abilities are gone, her whole world has turned into this huge mess of doubt. Throw in the fact that Hopper is gone, they've moved to a new town away from all of her existing support systems aside from Joyce (who is apparently busy all the time), she's struggling to gain acceptance among new peers and is being bullied... She is clinging onto her relationship with Mike like it's the last thing she has, even resorting to lying to him in order to make it look like she's doing well; because Mike can't know that she's failing to fit in! She is so terrified of losing love, and all this doubt has her so convinced that she already has.

On Mike's end, however, all he can see from her letters to him is that she seems to be thriving, even enjoying her life away from him.

He expressed in later scenes that he has his own doubts and insecurities about this, that maybe there's something or someone out there better suited for her, more worthy of her love. This likely contributed to why he avoided the "L" word in his letters.

His own trauma from repeatedly losing her-- and being helpless to stop it-- comes into play, as well; if he allows himself to open up his heart and admit how much he loves her, it'll hurt so, so much if/when he loses her again. At the same time, I'm sure he's terrified of saying the wrong thing that may push her away.

It's also worth noting that Mike is generally not the best at verbally expressing himself-- he repeats himself, makes defensive outbursts without thinking, and awkwardly trips over his words. Mike's love language is his actions, in kind unspoken gestures, in quiet understanding and reassurance. Things that do not carry over well through letters alone, especially if he has no idea that she is in need of reassuring words. He couldn't see that she has been hurting this whole time. He's likely upset towards her for lying to him because he feels like he should have been there for her.

I've personally been there before-- it's hard to explain the mix of frustration and helplessness you feel when you realize a loved one has been suffering without your knowledge, when you feel like it should have been your responsibility to support them and you failed to, even though it's not your fault for not knowing. This entire situation/argument is something I've gone through with my partner; it is so realistic for a relationship involving someone with trauma like this, and it's a very mature thing for these kids to be handling (and Mike actually handled that conversation beautifully, if they wanted them to have an actual fight fight it could have been so much worse). I don't see it at all as an indication of a falling out between Mike and El. This was a necessary hurdle that they both need to work through, it's an indication that their relationship will strengthen from it.

[leon6w5]

— things don't (need to) end like this.

n/a: hi! i wrote this while reflecting how infinite darkness should ended up, building a path to re6 (archives) — where claire made leon and chris meet each other after everything happened. they ended in good terms, even when claire disagreed with leon's choice. i already posted it on ao3 with some changes, so hope y'all enjoy it. <3

warnings: light angst, friends to lovers, sexual tension, conflicted feelings, smut and fluff, good ending.

Regrets come after memories.

Not that memories were tangled, maybe it wasn't, maybe he was trying to find answers and fix things that couldn't anymore — that didn't belong to him anymore. And never weren't his own. Leon couldn't be responsible for everything bad that happened, he couldn't save anymore, either himself.

While he looked at Claire a few inches in front of him, his confused but determined eyes seemed to hesitate for a realistic answer. He didn't want any of that for him specially her. Leon knew that Claire didn't need protection, they went through Raccoon City together, it was a fact.

But trying to be fair, the world could be unfair to her and Leon couldn't deal with it again, couldn't bear to lose someone else… Again. Someone who had a massive value — an emotional bond with him, both similar.

He walked towards her unhurriedly, silently sighing, his throat parched because he knew he was delaying the inevitable. Leon buried his eyes on Claire's lips, the intact lipstick still on the flesh of her mouth, a few strands getting the way in her eyes, hiding her emotions. 'She's beautiful' was Leon’s first thought, Claire hadn't changed, maybe she had gotten better than him, Leon imagined that deep down Claire was aware that some things would be the same, but that didn't mean she would be part of it. She seemed so inaccessibly good for him, in a way he could never repay, so ethical that it showed the desperate contrast between his conscious thoughts.

Kennedy wishes he could say the same: that traumas didn't define him — Because for Claire it didn't seem that way. Leon didn't deny the existence of her sorrows, but it seemed so easy for her to face things, it seemed so easy for her to continue separating right and wrong, yet for him it was like an existential purpose and it was tiring to remain that way, as if the answers he expected would lead him to his hopeless skepticism.

"Wait a little. I… I’ll change my clothes” Leon said. Expectations shook Redfield's thoughts, she watched Leon walk back to the White House, not in a hurry, but in a grief and guilt that he wore, wrapping Leon, suffocating him by his throat. She predict that the two of them would talk, a lot.

Patiently she waited, watched the sky, meditating her thoughts while looking at the sun-painted heaven, regulating her breathing and trying to organize them all into one. Then the sound of heel boots behind her ear made her remember about the real. She turned, let out a chuckle and said “There you are…” and Leon could interpret that in several ways: the suit wasn't him, Claire still saw him as the police officer she had known. Things had changed a lot, that nostalgic image carried pain and dreams that were too distant for a pessimist like Leon. He no longer followed what he loved to do for a long time. It hurted him. It was the kind of thought with a circumstance of expectation that he could no longer fulfill anyway.

“So… shall we have dinner? I know a good restaurant around here.” Leon smiled, grief in the corner of his lips. He wanted to forget for a moment the last few chaotic years, the deaths, the inability for saving Shen Mei from death. In the back of his mind, his subconscious brought up the underlying remember of what Jason had told him, that maybe all of Leon's fear was as real as his feet on the ground now. It was terrifying.

In silence, Claire followed Leon side by side, they walked. It was a mutual stillness, the empty head that they both hoped to have for a few minutes. There was so much between them that they considered they had nothing, it was the kind of situation that left them adrift from any presumption and uncertainty. Redfield had even forgotten what it was like to breathe and share peace comfortably, she offered help and support, even so for a long time she had not allowed herself to receive the same, she was — trying to be — strong and unshakable.

Claire then noticed a smell that was intoxicating, somehow unforgettable. She inhaled, moved her head slightly and looked briefly at Leon, noticed the dark blue t-shirt, the leather jacket, the rough skin from his beard and his distant blue eyes. She felt a shiver run through her body, her stomach twitching. The smell was his scent, his hair.

She hadn't noticed until now, how fine Leon was. The hair on his face growing slightly left something to be desired, she liked to see that in some way, he took care of himself. And in that moment, in the calmness, almost resistant pace between them, she realized that her attraction to him could not be normal.

A dissipation was made, Leon's voice took Claire from the back of herself and brought to now. He opened the door, waiting for her to enter the spor and when she did, he noticed the abstraction. They sat down near the windows, Leon shortly snatched the menu and Claire thought that maybe he had been waiting for a nice meal for while. 

Through the huge gap between Leon's eyes and the menu, they looked at each other. Claire carried a sweetness and curiosity, she wanted to know what Kennedy would choose. "What are you looking for? We could hm… share a bolognese lasagna.” Leon agreed. He was abrupt, he thought the menu was an opportunity to peek on her right in front of her. 

They were talking, a common conversation, the kind they would never imagine having, nothing about work, nothing about Umbrella, subordinates or infected people —  choosing to avoid the topic because, perhaps, they agreed that it could not be part of who they were, even individually. Claire and Leon wanted to say that they were getting to know the other part of them, the part that they didn't let show, within so much inhumanity. And when the food arrived, it was as if they were open to anything, because they were together and that was what mattered (the delicious food too).

Deep down, they didn't want it to end. Leon didn't want to stop hearing Claire's small giggles, which carried a tone of hope so good that it seemed like a dream, it was contagious, it made him smile too, despite being so disconsolate.

“How was your food?” Leon's voice was soft, short.

“We ate the same thing, silly…” Claire said and without much delay, she added “It was the best food I’ve had in a season”, wiping the corner of her lips, adjusting her jacket. Kennedy paid attention, the sentence had somehow come out vague, the first part mocking him and the ending suggestive, without her looking away from him.

He didn't continue the thread, his eyes widened due to the attention she gave her at dusk, they were probably thinking about the same thing, where they would go after everything. After this.

Leon didn't want to be rushed, he didn't like to think too much, even if he was doing it now, even if he were doing this for the last nine years. He wasn't used to being impulsive, but all the "If's" that popped into his mind made him make a decision, occasionally an irrational one. But he wanted more and — even if Claire didn't show it — she wanted it too, she wanted to stay that way, she couldn't stand to go back to her motel, spending the night with her own thoughts.

"Would you like to come to my apartment?” 

Redfield repeated the phrase several times inside her own head, she didn't think he would be so… right. Though she calmly agreed.

 [...]

Leon could hear Claire breathing inside the elevator, she seemed to have something to say, but she didn't dare do it. She bit her lips, released her chest carrying anxiety, occasionally her frame bumping into Leon's arms. The smirking of his lips made her nervous, in a reckless way. 

Both got out of the cabin, he brought down the door knob and Claire saw the room in complete darkness. She knew it wasn't his style fancy or luxury stuff, inside it looked very clean, tidy. He turned on the gray lights, said “Come in” leaving his leather gloves on the central furniture.

She sat on the couch, watched him move around the house and for the first time, Claire didn't have much to say. “Would you like to drink something?"

"Beer.”

It was a request quickly accepted. The odd intimacy made Leon undo his leather jacket on the back of the armchair, he sighed tiredly, said “We didn’t sleep” and with her lips on the bottle's hole, Claire chuckled sheepish “You look terrible, Leon” and he replied “Not much as you do… and your arm?”

“I’ll be fine” ended the dialogue. Claire felt tension in the room, inside her chest. She knew that running her eyes over Leon's body didn't seem right and she didn't understand exactly why, this attraction was vicious, mutual; Redfield wondered that maybe he was there to talk, she knew what Leon was like, she knew everything he had been through. 

Claire stood up, she looked at Leon's eyes for the first time from so close up, they looked gloomy and cloudy. It was as if Leon was saying that he couldn't stand another day like that.

“I know what you have to tell me.” Leon's heart hit faster, did she know? How? Was he being so obvious…? 

"You know…?" He tried to reformule the question, his breathing shallow, his throat with a very large amount of saliva swallowed forcibly.

“I know… I feel angry with you... for making me go in a nice place, for having your company that makes me feel so good, for bringing me here just to say that you won’t give me the chip…” The condescension in Claire’s voice intrigued Leon, his posture fails, the stillness becomes greater “Look Claire…'

“I'm not finished yet, Leon” she said firmly, she approached dangerously, his lips almost brushing her top one “I feel angry, but I put myself in your shoes and I imagine you're doing the same to me by making this decision. I feel angry because… Lord, I can't— think about us. I'm mad with myself for thinking about us.” 

“What do you…” Claire saw Adam's apple moving eagerly, she focused her eyes on Leon's neck, on the strong cologne and smell of perfume that were addictive. "What do you think?”

Redfield thought about the various possibilities, she could verbalize anything, because that was what she wanted: to say something. But saying it wasn't enough, because the words accumulated throughout her body as if it wanted to transcend their meaning, because it did. She wanted to say much more than just words to Leon, it was an internal conflict that seemed want to unchain her pride.

She guided her blue irises syncing with his, left the beer bottle on the table, carefully took his hand, brought it to her face, the scar on his palm was kissed and Claire heard a soft, pleasant moan from Leon.

Kennedy brought her close, they kissed between the taste of alcohol and sighs gave, his tongue curled around hers, hot and wet, sticky in an addictive way, she seemed impatient, she moaned between the seals, even with the movements limited by one arm, it was Claire who calmly led everything. He moved away millimeters, let her take him to the wall, felt her nails sliding down the torn fabric of his t-shirt to his belt, grinding his body against hers, dominant. 

“I don't like this situation, you know” she says, perhaps a ready-made speech, but she still has contact with his body, his belt undone, her lips marked on the skin of his neck and chest, leaving him dizzy, intoxicated. “You… could have— asked me on a date” she teased, squeezed Leon's ass, pushed his torso onto the bed and silently demanded that he wait. 

It was all hectic, Leon had a bulge between his legs, witnessing Claire's skillful semi-nudity, he kept his eyes on every curve, on the adorable disarray of her underwear, on the scratches and scars on her shoulders and hip, there was so much admiration that it left he more aroused.

“I would have ended up here, in your sheets anyway, Leon. Because I like you, but I know that now, we are opposite” and that statement ended with Leon, even though he was involved in an overwhelming passion and arousal, feeling her mouth on his chest, on his skin, maybe in another moment they would have been perfect to each other “Claire—fuck, I-I…”

“S-shut… up, don’t make this worse” she exposed herself, undid Leon’s zipper and climbed on top of him with her bare breasts, her loose hair falling over her arms, the tip of the strands touching her hardened nipples.

Claire leaned her body, limiting the movement of her injured arm, she moaned when she felt Leon's fingertips on her thigh, a touch so affectionate that it didn't feel like him or she hadn't had the chance to try his touch yet. “You smell so good…” the compliment made her cheeks heat up, a lovely redness.

“D-don’t say things like that” she exclaimed, wrapping Leon’s boner between her legs, her core still being divided by the fabric of her panties. Claire rubbed herself and in response Kennedy's eyes narrowed, darting to her every curve. 

With his digits, Leon felt the slight bruise on Redfield's arm, she grunted bitterly but he placed a kiss on her bare jaw and then on her nipples, lovingly, enveloped in her lust.

“I don't want to rush things, Claire. I can’t do this to you, to me— to us.”

It was the last thing he said to her. And somehow, that made her chest twitch and tingle, feel a contraction and a supernatural heat between her legs, arousal increasing. “Finish taking off those clothes” Claire commanded and his agility made her chuckled clumsy. She bit the inside of her cheeks, watched Leon's body closely as he moved, the muscles in his arms, the prominent abdomen and the throbbing cock hitting his stomach.

Redfield wanted to moan but prolonged any sound, she saved all that desire for Leon to take it and keep it, cherishing this moment as a memory.

Leon's waist was hugged by Claire's thighs, he felt the temperature of her pussy in contact with his skin, he let slip deep breath and rubbed himself, opened her lips and teased her folds. “I hate that shameless smile of yours…” Claire whispered, letting him guide her hips in a delicious ‘back and forth’. “Yeah?" he replied smugly, a roguish smile that made her bite his top lip.

Then, Claire supported herself on her knees, twisted her body and the tip of Leon's cock came down, being swallowed by her core, so sopping wet and hot that it was as if he was drowning in a bubbling sensation of genuine desire. As if they could both know exactly what the other was thinking. “Oh… This” Redfield continued on top of him dictating the rhythm, moving up and down without stopping while Leon held her ass cheeks, bouncing.

“Careful… Redfield” he mumbled, lifted his torso and hugged her, leaving her legs raised, without much difficulty. Claire was whimpering, she she felt as if his touch was permeating every layer of her body, his warm flesh transforming them into one, into a drop of them, into a universe... she could simply enjoy it.

Tired, Claire let herself lie down on the mattress, she closed her eyes, sighing intensely, feeling the texture of the sheets on her back, her injured arm resting in front of her body. She felt one of Leon's fingers waltz with her free hand, felt the touch of his lips on her fingers, and sobbed when Leon stuck one of those fingers in his mouth. 

His tongue wrapped around her finger, erotically, Leon watched her expressions, waiting for her to come. Their eyes met once again, afterwards Leon felt the breath leave his lungs, the air was lost for a few seconds, he swore he was seeing the most beautiful and ethereal woman of all; Claire with her hair messy, her eyes watering and her body naked, sensitive and intimate. 

“Shit.” Kennedy swore, thrusting against Claire slowly, passionately and affectionately, he made sure not to miss any of her expressions, any sign of her body, as hips slammed together, mouths and fingers on her breasts. “You are so gorgeous… This is— Fuck, I need to stop, I need—” 

Listening to his incoherent mumblings, her nails buried into his wrists, like an unspoken request, Leon placed both hands next to Claire's head, left her legs floating in the air and went deep, the tip of his dick reaching her unfold places, hitting against her cunt in an inconstant firm rhythm. 

With her free arm she hugged his neck, whimpered bashfully and moved her hand down to Leon's ass cheek, stimulating the movements he made.

Claire needed more, she wanted more, she wanted them to be one for a moment.

The scent of both together made Leon weak, he started kissing her, slowing the movements to taunt her — she’d led him to continue, perhaps even stronger, making her forget all this confusion... how they were more than just all those problems that covered them.

“Leon! Leon! I-I…!” Thereafter, a wild tension took over Claire's dripping walls, she seemed lost between words, her mind blank, an orgasm that had mixed her essence with Leon's. 

Supportive, he remained there, together, affectionate, sometimes kisses, sometimes caresses, one touch softer than the other, conflicting with the past but fitting so well at the moment. When they moved away, Leon experienced the sincere smile, the naive happiness that transpired and almost became material around.

Claire lay down next to him, tangling in the sheets, tired and satisfied “I don’t know how many times I’ve said this today… but you—” Leon was interrupted, she silenced his lips with her index finger and waited for him to lie down.

“I don’t know…” she started, she didn’t know where to look, she alternated between Leon and his hand fixing her strands “That was… good… it was really good.”

Shaken, Leon thought, maybe she had something negative to say, good moments are still moments; “But…” he continued, as if he were inside her mind, waiting for anything.

“We could do everything differently” Claire states and continues “I understand a lot of your purposes, like the impulsive behaviour of yours. I don’t agree with them, but I understand it’s the world we live in.”

"What do you mean?" Confused, Leon was surprised by the answer: “Everything… I mean, things don’t have to end like this, we don’t.”

Kennedy didn't want to judge between the lines, he shared the same thoughts as her, perhaps beyond. He didn't want to create expectations that the environment could break, he knew that trust and loyalty were two sides of the same coin, he knew that hurting her was a way to save her and vice versa.

“Let's talk…” Claire peeked at Leon, her peace saying a thousand things, but no answer that satisfied her. “I… I'm filled with fear, doubts that I don't know what they are, that scares me. I can't drag people into this, that's not part of them”, he added, real and sensitive. Kindly, Claire, once again that night, showered hot kisses on Leon's hand, she kissed the scar, closed her eyes and focused her mind on the heat, the thickness, how big and sensitive his hand was, carrying weights that went up to his neck. 

“It’s okay… I understand you, I have it too, a lot to be honest” she comforted, her voice sleepy and warm “You don’t have to go through that shit alone, Leon.”

He nodded silently, not that he didn't want to keep that topic, but perhaps the quietness in that minute fed confidence. Leon smiled awkwardly and embarrassedly, caressing her cheek with his thumb, lavishing affection and care. Leon wanted to keep that vision, to tattooing in his memory her lips breaking from her smile to exhaustion and yet, conveying security and vulnerability, not only because they were the same, not only because they went through the same impact, but precisely because they trusted in a uncertain hope.

Sleep resting them both.

Changes follow memories.

[pumpkinstrawbrew]

you're toxic, i'm slippin' under with a taste of a poison paradise

...

(i always jokingly call their ship 'my chemical romance', mostly bc of the fact that crane is awfully good at chemistry, among the other things. n' i do dearly love this aspect of their relationships. gotta adore how it's literally 'toxic' love, bc the fear toxin is a thing, n' they both end up sniffing it, every time they met. so it's less of poetic language here. it's just that they end up inhaling fumes n' havin' a bad trip. plain as day.

anyho', these arts are circling around the idea of what if at one point, crane dosed both of them on purpose. n' what if he did it as the scarecrow. or more so, when he was in mindset of the scarecrow.

btas crane n' old comic ones are usually depicted as sadists, who ironically are afraid of pain themselves. as jonathan is the sort of man, who is afraid to suffer / be hit / be picked on, bc it was his whole life. he knows how it feels n' he's dreading it. n' while it's cute, i was wondering about more crazy n' drastic measures, that crane might take, even if he knows that it would hurt him, but at same time, would grant him smth that he wants very-very badly. in this context, some 'discomfort' should be fine. n' i believe, that if he's 'out of it' or desperate enough, he might do it.

in this context, him using ft for smth dare i say kinky, isn't out of question. i often think' that crane might view his ft as a connecting link between himself n' batman. even if he doesn't know who batman is, the difference between them is evident. starting from the looks n' ending up with their personalities. but when batman is afraid, it's like jonathan bringing bruce to his level, isn't it? at that moment, they're the same. crane dosing them both is almost a power move. kind of harmful, bc crane cannot quickly overcome his own toxin like batman does. but still, it would take batman aback. give jonathan those 10 seconds of being the 'big bad' man in the room. but that's just a cherry on top. the main point of this is that jon can get away with smth, like a kiss or smth more, bc it would all be lost in horror soon enough. with this nearly an ultimatum in mind, he can waste those few moments *where he still udnerstands what's real n' what's not* to be bold.

i feel like btas crane will be a tad more modest about it still vs his more unhinged comic counterpart. but batman would be caught off guard, either way! i generally do enjoy the situations, where bruce is ruffled n' taken for a ride from time to time. he's very serious n' very prepared, n' all that, but it's fun to let jon score a win. even if it's small, it still would plague batman for days. his enemy dosed both of them, crawled into his laps, kissed him n' then just.....refused to explain himself. n' while it would be puzzling from bruce's pov. i love how it would have been the fear-included kiss for both of them, but jon would have been afraid of it *touching lips with him* even without ft, so this what makes it painfully appealing to me.

i stan by a hc that pleasure is generaly very hard concept for crane. n' he doesn't fully know what to do with it. or how to proceed. any fantasy, where things just nice n' not complicated feels untrue to him. he can't do what harley did n' just smooch the bat. he's not a pretty gal or even someone, who has any skills in that area. more so, the mere idea about how the bat might be willing to do smth with him, outside of being low-key cornered into it or lured into, is beoynd him. which is pretty sad, but it just feels kinda....like, well, jon, haha. i can't picture him as someone, who can overlook his self-hatred n' disgust this easily. but causing smth, when controled by fear n' despair for having that one thing he's pinning for, now this would sound realistic to him.

as for bruce, he can take his revenge by simply kissing crane back. n' also explain nothing. i imagine, that when it happens, crane's brain will freeze. it's like an instant defeat.)

[huachengeye]

Only Friends Episode 8: And they were all messy

Hello there! Episode 8 has been out for some days now, but after watching a reaction os YT and scrolling through the comments, I wrote this piece to add my two cents to the whole Mew victimization and Ray the supreme asshole (I don't actually think he is tho).

For organization and better reading comprehension, I'm going to separate this into sections, starting off with Mew going wild, then Ray, the fandom's favorite broken boy, and ending up with little about the relationship of the friend group.

Mew, one of the nasties.

First off, I'm a Mew apologist. He is, in fact, my favorite character as of now, but I'm down to criticize the hell out of him, because loving is caring <3

I want to start with the whole discourse around his and Ray's relationship. The fandom seems to be separated into 3 categories (and yes, I'm generalizing a lot for the purpose of making my point): Mew apologists, Ray apologists, and everyone else who thinks they are as messy as everyone else without needing to explain their behavior.

In contradiction with my very first sentence, I belong to the third category in the sense I think they all do bad things to one another. Starting with Mew, we already know that he puts himself on a pedestal compared to his fucked-up friends, but my boy was kicked out of his high horse and now is like us, failed humans. One of the discourses I've been seeing, and that some characters in the series agree with (Cheum and Top), is that Mew is being dragged down by Ray. I completely disagree. Mew is an adult, and although he is experiencing heartbreak for the first time, the way he is acting is very realistic. Mew's first honest conversation with Top was about how he is afraid of getting his heart broken. He confided that to Top, about how he lives through his books because of his fears of getting hurt. And it happened exactly as he feared. It would be weird if he just behaved normally after finding out his boyfriend cheated on him with his friend. So his way of hurting is not hurting at all, is numbing his pain and he does it in the same way as Ray because that's the way he thinks it works.

As the theories go for this BL, I've seen a lot of people saying that it is Mew that it's enabling Ray's substance abuse. Honestly, in my opinion, they are using each other. Mew made it clear that he doesn't love Ray romantically, he said it himself in this episode, Ray is the one he should love. I genuinely don't think Mew is using Ray with the idea of making Ray drown more in his addiction, I think the reason Mew is clinging to Ray right now is the same reason Ray clings to him: they were there when the other was going through his worst time. They are like lifesavers to each other. In this sense, they are mutually using one another, the difference is that Ray is also clinging to the idea that he is in love with Mew, when it's already clear to us, the viewers, that this boat has sailed. If Ray was certain that he wanted a future with Mew, and Mew only, he would've let Sand go. Because Ray didn't go after Sand only when he was under the influence of drugs and/or alcohol, he also went when he was sober, actively trying to keep Sand in his life, even if their relationship was never a friendship, and was always sexual/romantic (for Sand, at least).

Still analyzing Mew, I saw this brilliant post by @wen-kexing-apologist (this post right here, highly recommend for you to check it out) where they analyze Mew, and his personality (or lack of, for that matter). As soon as Mew told Top that he decorated his place with ideas from Pinterest I felt bothered, especially with his whole introduction in the first episode, about how he is the table keeper (I honestly don't remember how he worded it). I felt bothered but I couldn't quite say why, so when I read Wen Kexing Apologist's analysis, it all made sense.

Lao Wen's (I'm sorry for the use of the cannon nickname of wkx, saying the whole username is a task lmao) thesis is that Mew has no idea who he is, and I completely agree with them. The thing that was Mew's whole personality is that he was a virgin, which was the thing that most set him apart from his friends. Yes, he is also a bookworm and a smart person, but these were secondary things when it came to who he was. Mew was the "pure" one of the group, the one that was waiting for the right person, for the person that was worthy of his virginity (just typing this makes me want to wither away). After Top, he is no longer a virgin, he is no longer that different from his friends. So once he found out about Top cheating on him, he had lost more than his virginity, he had lost his own ideals, because he wanted his first time to be with someone worthy, as I said, and well, Top wasn't worthy, but Mew didn't know that at the time.

Now, Mew doesn't have the one aspect of him that defined him, so he is utterly lost and is now mimicking the one person that offers him some type of stability, one person that he knows truly cares for him, Ray. I really don't know how Mew will react if he knows that Ray kissed Sand at the party, I don't if he won't care because he isn't in love with Ray or if that will only make him go down to the worst path. I think he will get mad if he finds out, especially because it's Ray, his best friend, the one who was there for him when Top cheated on him. Oh, the drama it's gonna be.

Now for Ray. I'm gonna be straight with y'all and say that Ray is the character I dislike the most in this BL, but also the one that I pity the most.

From the get-go, I knew Ray wasn't better than Boston or Top, but after this episode, I can't understand why people still treat him as the victim. He keeps on stringing Sand around as if he is his personal doll, even after Sand makes it clear that he doesn't want to be Ray's second option, that he wants Ray to let him go. Ray does not let him go, and more than that, he clings to Sand as a spoiled child clings to his favorite toy, not out of love, out of possessiveness. I don't really see Ray and Sand's relationship as one of love, Sand is basically Ray's parent, and for Ray, Sand is a thing he can own, just like he can own anything else with his money. For this topic, I recommend this post by @wen-kexing-apologist (yes, I might be a little obsessed with their analysis, sue me) and this post by @emotionallychargedtowel.

I saw some people saying that Ray doesn't know he is addicted, and that his substance abuse doesn't excuse his behavior but certainly explains it, I disagree. I think that Ray knows that his actions hurt others around him, and he knows because his friends and Sand already told him when he was sober. Sand said more than one time that he should drive whilst drunk because he could hurt someone. Sand in the hospital made it clear that he should take accountability for his actions. Mew keeps on chewing him about his drinking behavior (even if he doesn't in a very judgmental way). So he knows, he might not be able to control himself when he is drunk, but he never takes accountability afterward, not really. Even after his accident, what was his punishment? Community service, and even when it comes to that he tried to make Sand help him.

As for the idea that he doesn't know he is addicted, I think he does. I think he does, but he doesn't want to acknowledge it. If I remember correctly (and I might not, please correct me if I'm tripping), when Ray and Mew kissed back when they didn't know Sand or Top, Ray says to Mew that if he hadn't found Ray in the bathtub, he would've joined his mother. At the time, I hadn't watched the flashback of his mother on the floor, but I got the impression that he meant that not because he would die like his mother, but because he would've joined his mother in the same way that she went. Now, I think that scene was Ray's way of acknowledging for a brief moment that he is going down the same path as his mother. Again, I might be way off here.

So my point is, I'm a bit tired of people trying to blame Ray's trauma for all of his actions. Of course, his traumas and mental issues are a big part of it, but he still chooses to hurt others, even when sober. Trauma doesn't mean you can treat others like shit. And as someone who grew close to a person that dealt with alcohol abuse and turned a jerk because of it, it's fucking tiring and emotionally consuming to have someone berating you. It doesn't matter at the moment that they are out of their minds, because in the end, you are hurting.

THEY ARE FRIENDS, BUT ARE THEY REALLY?

Now onto the Fantastic Four. After this episode, I saw some people talking about Cheum never actually caring for Ray or that neither of the friends did. I saw someone talking about how Cheum shouldn't have said that (her whole monologue) whilst Ray was being held down by a cop. I agree with all of it, except maybe for the part that his friends don't care. I think Mew does care, although he certainly doesn't look like he does now. But we need to remember that he was there for Ray when he tried to take his own life. And I believe that there are still things we didn't see from them because they are best friends. Before Top, before Nick, before Sand, the one that Ray could lean on was Mew and from the way Ray behaves around him, it seems as if Mew wasn't the worst friend around.

As for Boston and Cheum, it is VERY clear that the one person who keeps these 3 people (Boston-Cheum-Ray) as friends is Mew, he is the glue of the friendship. Things are starting to look bad for their friendship now that Mew is acting out, because even when Boston did what he did, Cheum-Ray-Mew were still together. We also have to take into consideration that maybe Cheum and Boston don't know the scope of Ray's problems, maybe they don't know that Ray tried to kill himself, because from what we saw that was something that only Mew knew. Cheum clearly knows that Ray still suffers from his mother's death, and that's why she walked away when he said that his mother is dead, but we don't know if they actually know why Ray behaves in such a way.

Let's look at the situation from Cheum's POV for a minute. She is watching her friend, Mew, acting the same way as Ray, when Mew used to be the one to try and make Ray stop. She sees that both of them are making decisions about the hostel that the FOUR of them worked on, without her (or Boston). She knows that Ray did the whole hostel thing because of Mew. She is feeling left out as if no one cares for her like Ray was feeling before he started going out with Sand. When it comes to their friendship and this scene of Cheum's explosion, we need to remember Ray did a similar thing to her on Mew's birthday. He told everyone about her private business, and for her, it doesn't matter that he was drunk, because it hurt her and could've possibly ruined her relationship (ofc if it did the blame wouldn't be on Ray, because he didn't lie about the things she said about her girlfriend). And as she was talking, she mentioned that she and Boston were always the third wheel, which makes me think about all the times Boston talked to Ray about how he needed to stop his bullshit and be real about how much he wanted Mew to stay away from Top - and he was so right about that, because what was the thing Ray did when Mew was heartbroken? He asked Mew for a chance.

For my last point, I just want people to try and be in the friend's place for a second. In everyone's place actually (except for Ray's). Would you be a pantheon of peace and calm when your friend keeps on doing things that hurt you? The series did a great job at showing how Ray's traumas hurt him, but it also did a great job at showing how Ray's substance abuse hurts everyone around him.

As I said, when you are close to someone who has an addiction, you want to help them because you know that it's hard, but at some point, you get tired because, in the end, you are putting your own mental and emotional health in line for someone else. Most of the time, the person doesn't accept your help. It's not that they don't know they are addicted (sometimes that's the case tho, not trying to generalize, but I'm using my personal example and Ray for this), is that they don't want to assume it, they honestly want to believe they are in control.

Ray doesn't have the best support friendship, but in the end, not a single one of his friends is well enough to help him out, not even Sand. Not one of them has the capacity to help him, so I think it's unfair to place them as awful friends for not helping Ray out every time. Again, you can't help someone who does not accept help, but that also doesn't mean that they should just leave him to go crazy and drink like a madman, snort like his nose is made of steel. That's not it. But I think we should stop minimizing his acts just because of his mental issues and substance abuse. As someone who has mental issues in a way that I had similar thoughts to Ray, it does not mean that I'm allowed to treat others badly because of it. And I know people ain't trying to place Ray (only) as a victim, but I feel like the bar is raised high for everyone that isn't Ray, just because of his traumas and addiction -- let me also remind some of yall, that Top snorts too, he looks like he may have or may have had an addiction to his sleeping pills, his house caught fire and his parents weren't there to help him because his parents don't give a shit about him. From what we know the thing that sets him apart from Ray is that his mother didn't die in a very traumatic way, but still, I don't see anyone trying to justify his wrongings by using his traumas (as it should be).

This whole essay is just to say that no one is fully right here. We have people messing up and people trying to better themselves. Right now, Mew and Ray are messing up, but I'm sure at some point they will get better, and hopefully Ray will get the help that he needs because now he is looking for the help that he wants (aka Sand and Mew).

[live-from-flaturn]

Chay, Hope, and “The New Hunger”

An unnecessary metatextual analysis by an excited English MA queer.

So it all started with this shot from Episode 7 of KinnPorsche:

I zoomed in on the novel next to Chay’s desk out of curiosity and discovered that it was The New Hunger by Isaac Marion. Not a super old book by any means, and definitely one that Chay would realistically be reading.

Also a brief cameo that lets this single comedic shot FORESHADOW SO MUCH OF CHAY’S TRAGIC PLOTLINE without likely intending to do that at all.

Because The New Hunger, published in 2013, is a functional prequel to Marion’s 2010 novel Warm Bodies.

Warm Bodies is by far one of the most beautifully written and engaging re-interpretations of Shakespeare’s “Romeo and Juliet” probably ever written (and I spent 3 summers at Shakespeare camp, so this approval is not coming from a casual fan perspective). There are zombies, apocalyptic drama, Daddy issues, and a LOT of stuff about not losing hope in the face of annihilation, loss, and loneliness. 

R spends most of the novel talking TO HIMSELF and coping with HOW TO BE ALONE. He is doing exactly what Chay is forced to do for survival: Create his own joy and entertainment. He’s abandoned by the world around him and must fight at every turn to maintain a sense of agency, all while desperately clinging to the idea that hope is everywhere. Here are some of my favorite Warm Bodies quotes for perspective:

“It frustrates and fascinates me that we'll never know for sure, that despite the best efforts of historians and scientists and poets, there are some things we'll just never know. What the first song sounded like. How it felt to see the first photograph. Who kissed the first kiss, and if it was any good.”

“What wonderful thing didn’t start out scary?”

“You should always be taking pictures, if not with a camera then with your mind. Memories you capture on purpose are always more vivid than the ones you pick up by accident.”

“’What's wrong with people?’ she says, almost too quiet for me to hear. ‘Were they born with parts missing or did it [love] fall out somewhere along the way?’“

“The sky is blue. The grass is green. The sun is warm on our skin. We smile, because this is how we save the world. We will not let Earth become a tomb, a mass grave spinning through space. We will exhume ourselves. We will fight the curse and break it.”

“Deep under our feet the Earth holds its molten breath, while the bones of countless generations watch us and wait.”

BUT THEN YOU HAVE THE NEW HUNGER.

“Nothing is permanent. Not even the end of the world.”

“Enough white lies can scorch the earth black.”

“What happened? How did I get here? How could I have known that my choices mattered?”

“Crying. Expelling grief from the body in the form of salt water. What's its purpose? How did it evolve, and why are humans the only creatures on Earth that do it?”

He has not reached the point of exhumation yet. 

Porchay must first be burned down. He must experience the hopelessness, loss, and devastation of betrayal first. 

Like yeah, sure, this is a throwaway shot and someone on the set probably grabbed a handful of random books to use but HOLY FUCK they really could not have made a better (potentially) accidental choice!

Like... Jesus Christ in Heat do I love these books more than life itself. Warm Bodies is my second favorite book of all time and again, I read books for a living. You should go check them out if you like romance, comedy, zombies, or really just feeling good about the end of a novel. Isaac Marion will fundamentally change your life and the way you look at the world and it’s a wonderful experience.

But also the accidental foreshadowing of Porchay’s world being burnt up... of his memories being tainted and blackened by Kim’s lying and Porsche’s secrecy... Ugh it hurts. I am having some feelings in this Chili’s tonight. 

[jimin-of-mine]

Hello. I just came across your blog and went through some of your replies. You're so patient and insightful regarding spirituality so if you don't mind I would like to ask a few questions!

Say for example, I have a twin flame and that person happens to be jimin. This is just an example, not saying it's him. How would things go from here hypothetically? Since most twin flame connections are romantic and at the end of everything who would be with him? Me or you?

You've said that you've always known things intuitively, how did you build your intuition to fully trust the unseen? Despite your anxiety since I know how it feels like to be plagued with so much negativity inside my head.

You and the other anon talked about being connected with the members in the astral realm through dreams, if I'm not wrong? May I know how I can achieve the same if possible?

Lastly, do you believe in tarot and astrology? Are you aware of the vast readings done on the members, where people are asking every single detail about their future partners and what not? What do you think of it? Do you believe they have the chance of coming true or it's just for entertainment?

Twin flames are much more than the romanticized version that everyone seems to talk about online.

Romance is only an added bonus and not the forefront of the connection at all.

Unconditional love is the purpose of this connection and it's a very turbulent one at that. It's like a rollercoaster that never stops and you're playing tug-of-war on it.

---------

That's not something for me to decide, since the decision would lie with Jimin and I have no idea what I will be to him when I first come face to face with him. Speaking in general terms, if he was to choose someone else, than I would not get in the way of what he shared with that individual. His happiness is my own, and just being in his life has been the biggest blessing of my own.

He's the only reason I have been trying to survive since I was a young child and first 'heard' him- but it just took me some time to find out his identity and who he was.

I will never push myself onto him and force him to be with me if he is not ready, because that is not how true love works.

I have waited far too long on this man and I will never do anything to hurt him, because I cherish his soul far too much for any of that and I wish I could protect him from everything that he has been through- but that's impossible to do from a realistic standpoint.

There's only three of us in our twin flame union, but this could also happen if a karmic or a soul mate were to show up as well ~

Whatever choice Jimin is to make once I enter into his life from a physical standpoint- I will respect his decisions without question or doubt, because I trust him and more than anything what I want is to be a part of his life in some way, shape or form.

I am entitled to that as one of his other halves, but if he were to choose to ask me to leave- I doubt I would be able to survive, but I would also respect this choice of his as well and I would try my best to find some kind of purpose out of whatever situation I would find myself in.

After all this time now, he's the only reason I am breathing

-----

I used to say I was born with severe anxiety lol- because I had it for so long and I couldn't remember a time when I ever truly felt 'safe'.

Considering what happened to me when I was a small child, I saw every single person as a threat and I was terrified of being 'touched', because any kind of physical contact afterwards made me feel gross and really disgusting. It was like no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't wash off this filthiness that was just a part of me for several years afterwards.

I hated myself more than one person should and it got to the point where I was exceptionally plagued by dark thoughts and I was very suixidal.

I started to think that the 'pretty picture' I had in my head all of these years of a white knight coming to 'save me', was something I had imagined and it wouldn't be too far off- because you can often imagine things that will help you cope after trauma. But it's in that moment that I was somehow guided to watch a couple of BTS' music videos and Jimin showed up when just when I thought I had lost hope for the last time.

From the time I was a small child, I knew that I would find someone just like me and we would love each other forever and ever (Unconditionally, since kids aren't thinking of romance at this age). I didn't know how I knew this or why such a thing would even come to mind- but that's when I 'heard' Jimin and he was only a small child at the same time- and honestly it's the only memory I have from being small (other than my trauma of course that came a little before this).

I believed it, because I felt it very deeply in my little body and it was the only thing I grasped onto when things always got really dark and disturbing in my mind- because let's face it- I was always plagued by 'demons' of some kind and things just grew more extreme over time.

This is due to how I was way too small to fully grasp onto my trauma and my mind wasn't really developed yet- not to mention that I didn't get the emotional support I should have had from specialists for very long. So I was forced to go through these things on my own and when you're little- things are already so confusing- honestly I have no idea how I ever survived back then.

I suppose it was just my will power and mental strength, after I had something to live for- which was to find this 'person' that would be my other half in every way possible.

It was one of those things that you don't know how you know it, but you're sure it's real and it's true.

I find it rather ironic lol, because I couldn't stand BTS when they first debuted and it had nothing to do with the member's themselves. It was the community and the people that just rubbed me the wrong way.

Everyone was always so obsessed with them and only them and it annoyed me, because there were so many other groups that should have been noticed as well. You can like BTS and even stan them, but don't ignore other groups and pretend like they don't exist.

So, it wasn't until 2016 that I finally gave in and looked up their music, because hey- I wanted to see what the big deal was and I had heard some of their music just in the background. People would play little skits and what not on IG and I would see some stuff on Facebook, so I thought it was time I caved in and stopped being so stubborn- because I've always loved music and I felt like maybe I was being kind of unfair to them.

So, I watched the first two videos that came up on my YouTube search 'Save me' and 'I need U' ~

Jimin stood out to me instantly, before I even knew his name and his voice made me anxious- not like- in the way I was used to- but it just- how do I describe this...

It was like discomfort, but not like that at the same time- my apologies, I can't express the feeling the way I need to here- but after I was done watching the videos I just felt different somehow.

I couldn't stop listening to the songs, because I just felt different somehow when I listened to them. Over a few weeks time, I don't know what it was- but I suddenly looked at him differently and I recognized him as being the little boy that 'spoke' to me when I was small.

I have no idea HOW I did it, but it happened and then I started to search up things online and I already heavily believed in soul mates- so I thought that's what he was, until I came across the term twin flames and that explained more of what I was going through.

It's funny now that I look back and think about how perfectly everything lined up- because after that above, I started to get visits from him in the astral realm and it was so nice to actually be able to put a face to the vague image I had in my mind of him for all of those years that I didn't know who he was- just someone I was searching for and someone I was dreaming of.

It's taken me years to get to this point of where I am very confident of my connection with Jimin and it hasn't been easy to get to here, because I have questioned myself every single step of the way and there's been so much despair and pain- because this kind of connection forces you to purge literally everything from your life- so that you can be prepared for when the time comes that you will meet your other half/halves.

You need to strip away every single thing you thought you knew from the time you were a child and let go of all of your conditioning beliefs, because it's sort of like a caterpillar and how they create a cocoon for themselves to undergo a really huge transformation. It takes a lot for that little one to get to where it does, but eventually it breaks free from the chrysalis and emerges as a gorgeous butterfly or a moth.

It will take a lot of blood, sweat and tears to get to where I am on my own personal journey, but if you work hard, there's no reason at all that you wouldn't be able to get as confident about your intuition as I am with mine.

All you need to do is just try and remain open to what your heart is telling you and the rest will fall into place, but you need to quiet your mind before you are able to do this.

Your ego will constantly try and get into a battle with you, because it wants cold hard facts and it will try and force you to look at the logical points, because it doesn't want to feel unsafe. Comfortable means safe and that's where it likes to be, but you can't have growth in this way and you won't move forward if you choose to always play it safe.

This connection is intense and affects you physically, mentally, and emotionally as well- as you become 'one' with them over time.

Twin flames are more than just romance and all of that superficial stuff- because this connection comes along to bring out the best version of yourself.

Being a twin flame means you share the same DNA and energetic blueprint as someone else and they are you in every sense.

They're not here to 'save you' though- they're here to help you save yourself with their love as a guiding star that will help you find the inner strength you were unable to find on your own.

-----

The astral realm is something that everyone has access to, but when it comes to twin flames, it's something that just comes naturally.

Whoever this is regarding, if you're getting curious about twin flames, you're more than likely trying to be reached by your own.

We're all on different journey's and perhaps you weren't supposed to meet with them so soon, like I did with my own.

I have my own personal space in the astral realm where I meet with Jimin's 'soul' and it's a place we've been meeting for decades now.

The astral realm in general is a very vast place though and I have met with other's as well, outside of our own- so it's when I realized that anyone can find the astral realm and you can have various experiences there.

People often tried to tell me it was a sacred place only for twin flames and it sounded ridiculous from the get go- but who am I to judge someone else's experiences?

They were only saying that, because it's all they have experienced, but I soon realized that it is a very large world and very different yet similar to the one on Earth.

I suggest trying to keep an open mind about the astral realm and perhaps doing some affirmations before bedtime.

"I am open to where my dreams wish to take me"

"My heart is open and willing to experience whatever I am meant to find in my dream world"

"Even though it may be hard to believe, there are answers in my dreams and I am open to what they need to tell me"

"I am new to this, but I am open to learning more about my own personal experiences when I dream"

"I will remember my dreams and they will hold purpose and meaning for me when I am awake"

You can feel free to use these ones, or just come up with your own :)

You may already be meeting with someone in your sleep and I think maybe you are?

I don't know, but there's definitely someone- and it only makes sense anyhow, because you wouldn't be drawn to this kind of stuff otherwise. So I'm not telling you anything you don't already know lol, but that's so strange- because you're the second person my intuition has picked up something with.

Your intuition is something like a satellite you could use for an example. Like a radar- it can pick up on things and the more in tune you are, you can pick up things easily and through many different ways.

Feel free to come back and tell me whether the affirmations worked or not and you can say them before bedtime even honestly, just to try and get the wheels turning in your mind and who knows? You may remember something from a dream beforehand, because it's all about intention and opening yourself up to the 'unknown'. Something that most humans are scared of and that's why I receive so much hate- because these people see me as a threat, since I speak about things they don't understand.

Things they choose not to try and understand of course, since ignorance is only a choice we make willingly.

---------

I believe in both of these things, yes- since I wouldn't be able to call myself truly spiritual otherwise- but they have their place as does everything else.

The people who get obsessed with trying to figure out these things with the guys need to honestly do something more productive with their lives.

They are never going to figure out who any of them are meant to get with and all of this other ridiculous nonsense- and it's quite unhealthy for them to be doing these things.

Some readers do it for fun I have noticed, other's take it way too seriously and then you have the one's that do it only for the views and popularity.

Be careful with that, because most of those people aren't even real readers at all and they're just trying to scam you into believing they are.

I used to be a tarot/oracle reader and I was heavily involved in that community and most of these people that read for the guys have made me laugh on several occasions.

There's been a couple who felt genuine to me, but most of them unfortunately haven't.

Once you get more in tune with your intuition, it will guide you to where you need to be, if this is something you are interested in. Try to look outside of the small box of this and get involved with readings in general, because the energy flows more easily and things will come much more naturally.

The BTS community is full of negativity and those kinds of posts would be no different. It can heavily influence the reading and make it hard to pick up on the messages you need to be properly focusing on.

I have also noticed how a lot of the readers tend to hold back on the things that they feel they need to say and any good reader won't do this, because you only play a small part in the much bigger picture. It's your job to properly convey each message, regardless of how it may make you feel uncomfortable.

If you can't take your job seriously as a reader, I personally don't think you should even try- because you're being exceptionally rude and disrespectful towards not only the viewers, but also the people you are trying to channel.

As for Astrology, it's something that people focus on a little too much and it wasn't something I really looked into until much later on my journey.

It can come in handy at times, but it also has its place as well and you can get distracted very easily by it and start focusing on the things that you are only meant to have as guidelines of a sort.

Looking at both my chart and Jimin's gave me a new perspective and outlook on the things I needed to work on with him in the astral realm- but since I was only coming into it much later, I already knew it had its place and it's not something I depend on.

Your intuition is the only thing you truly need to depend on and everything else is just secondary.

That's the most important thing I have learned after all of this time ~

Feel free to send another 'ask' if you feel like you need to, or you can also message me if you feel comfortable enough to do so and would rather not discuss things any further from a public standpoint.