#losing your support system because someone died

[midnight-soulless-system]

OP does realize they don't have to be honest about who they voted? Lie. It's ok. "It's too much drama" it's millions of people's lives being destroyed.

Unless you physically cannot vote, then I'm sorry, but fuck you. People's lives were and still are quite literally at stake. "it doesn't impact you." BUT IT DOES. Everyone that didn't vote is one more cop that can kill me because of my skin, one more person who will stand by when disabled people are being killed, one more person who will let a teenager who was raped by their father die from a miscarriage because their laws don't allow abortion.

"At the end of the day it does not impact you" is as far from the truth as possible. I hope you know that you CONSCIOUS DECISION to not vote takes us many steps back in whatever progress anyone has made.

I hope everytime someone dies from an illegal abortion, you feel their pain. I hope everytime a child kills themself because they don't have access to HRT, you feel their pain. I hope that everytime a person of color is killed, incarcerated, or hurt by the system, that you feel their pain. I hope you feel the pain of every Palestinian that loses their child, their spouse, their family, their own life because of Trump. Because Kamala said she wouldn't support Israel. She said she'd help with legalizing abortion. She said she'd help, and she was the most qualified candidate we have EVER had in the history of this fucked up country.

But no, I'm not triggered. I am deeply dissapointed in your cowardice and you compliance with a homophobic, racist, misogynistic, transphobic, xenophobic, fascist nazi. I hope that you feel the pain of everyone you hurt by not voting, even past your death.

So yes. Fuck you for not voting. Fuck you for not being able to realize that your lack of voting has an impact on others. Fuck you and all of your entitlement.

I have to get this off my chest tbh

Alright, me personally I haven't voted because, it goes against my religious belief system. A lot of you need to respect that and stop saying fuck you to people who didn't vote because, everyone is entitled to their own beliefs just as you are entitled to yours. Seriously, what the fuck happened to first amendment rights? What happened to individuality and having your own ideology on things?

It's "fuck you because, you didn't vote.", "Fuck you because, you voted for kamala." "Fuck you because, you voted third party.", "Fuck you because, you voted for trump." when nobody knows any of these fucking people personally and what the fuck goes in their daily lives for them not to vote. FYI, I'm speaking for myself mainly of course.

I am currently struggling with mental health issues and I am trying to get my fucking life together. We need to normalize people minding their fucking business because, what I decide to do, prime example would be clipping my nails because, at the end of the day it does not impact you...COPE.

This is exactly also, why I have not voted because, it's too much fucking drama that comes with it. I'm not going to stress myself out and go on a fucking psychotic break. One thing I always reflected on was death because, you can't cheat death whether you old or young or maybe just even a baby. You can't cheat death and who knows maybe...just maybe I could stop breathing in my sleep. Anything could happen to me or anybody. Trust me, the last thing on your mind isn't going to be who you voted for or telling people fuck you.

Oh yeah and if you want to come for me...I WANT ALL THE SMOKE. Just incase, anybody gets supposedly "TRIGGERED" by this post.

For those who like to keep shit simple, I love you all and you all have my heart when it comes down to that, let's gain humility and keep marching, shall we? We've got more rough days ahead and I am going to be optimistic with the amount of effort I have moving forward with my personal life.

[capricorn-0mnikorn]

In a world where daily living support for disabled people is built on the foundation of the 'nuclear family,' and where disabled adults are penalized for getting married, there is no age limit on "Orphan."

[youryanderedaddy]

Oleander

Summary: Nine months ago you killed a man. Now you're sharing a drink with his brother. Life works in mysterious ways. tw: female reader, implied murder, captivity, dub - con, hate fucking, degradation, cruel reader

Sometimes you wonder if you’re a good person. It’s nice, almost, to lose yourself in meaningless philosophical battles in your own mind - it reminds you of high school, of balding teachers making you read Kant and Plato, raving on and on about dead men that will never come back to agree or disagree with the countless pages they made you write about them. It’s easier now, though - easy to lose yourself in semantics, to water down hundred years of morals and ethics into a simple question. Am I, the way I am, the way I’ve always been, good? 

These thoughts always come back when the liquor hits your system. You can’t believe Devan let you drink with him tonight. He must be getting lonely, you realize. Your hands are too shaky and slippery to hold the glass, and you end up spilling half of it over your chest anyways. Your shirt soaks the liquor quickly, and the sharp smell of sanitizer makes you feel as if you’re running through a cold hospital corridor. If you squint, you can almost imagine the needle poking at your vein to draw fresh blood. 

Devan watches you with odd fascination - as if you’re a child learning how to walk, and takes a sip straight off the bottle. Were you any less drunk, you’d be disgusted, yet now all you think about is how he’s drinking more and more of the bitter medicine, leaving less for you. And you need it. God knows you need it.

“Messy, murderous slut.” He mumbles under his breath, reaching out to you with a disoriented shake of his hand. “You ruined my fucking life, you know?” He manages to take a hold of your elbow. You flinch impulsively but his hold, in all its drunken angst, is unrelenting.

“You ruined your own life.” You intend your answer to be playful, but it comes out venomous. Maybe you both need some sleep - too bad the bottle is still half full. You pour yourself some more. “You’re 27 with no education, job or any support network. Even your parents don’t call you anymore, because, well… what even are you without him?” You let yourself get closer to the man - so close you can see his eyes illuminate in fear. His skin is warm like concrete melting under the sun. Tonight you are cruel. Tonight you are free - even as the tears fall down your freezing cheeks. “Admit it.” You inhale so quietly you barely feel your lungs. “You fucking love it.”

Even as his hand connects to your cheek in an audible slap, you can’t help running your mouth off. You are absolutely intoxicated - and the sting feels like a kiss to your lonely, untouched face. How long has it been since someone held you?

“You fucking love that your brother died, deep down. I mean, it’s the perfect excuse, isn’t it? You finally have a reason to be this fucking miserable.” Your smirk, filling up with glee - just like a child torturing a helpless ladybug on the ground, it’s so wrong yet feels so right. ”Besides being a lousy loser, of course.”

“How fucking dare you!” Devin flips you over with ease, throwing you on the ground. There is a raw, animalistic sadness in his big black orbs bleeding into his rage, and it makes it impossible to be scared. Even as his thick fist wraps itself around your throat, it’s hard not to burst into laughter. All the good hazy feelings take over logic and now the bleak feels like a big joke of nature. “Joe was… He… He was…” Everything, he tries to say, but his voice breaks into a pained howl and his breathing shallows before the word can roll off his colorless tongue. For a passing moment everything stills.

“It’s all your fault.” Your captor hisses weakly, his hand trembling around your warm inviting flesh. “I should have killed you that first day… that first night.” His fingers dance around your throat, carefully avoiding your jugular. “It would have been so easy. You do have a beautiful neck.” His voice lowers. “It wouldn’t be hard to–” He squeezes again - tight, tighter, and you see stars. “Maybe then I’ll finally be at peace.” He’s staring at you, intently, but it’s himself he’s talking to. 

“Oh, please.” You roll your eyes. You can feel a certain fullness in your sides and a dull pain tugging at your collarbone from suffocation - but your mind can’t wrap itself around a single coherent thought other than to hurt him. It’s like the more you hurt him, the more it hurts inside you. “You can’t kill me.” There is no sass in your tone, no mischief - just plain cold acceptance.

Devin stops in his tracks to stare you down as if you’ve lost your goddamn mind. Then he laughs. He laughs so much his hand slips off your throat and you can finally breathe again.

“And what makes you so sure?” He finally collects himself enough to ask, leaning towards you. If anyone were to see you now, they would think you’re two lovers about to elope. “Because…” You avert your face away from his watchful eyes - there’s something about them, a wild flame that makes you sober up quicker than you’d like. “I’m the only person you hate more than yourself. If you kill me, the game is over.” You give him a sad smile. “And you’re all alone again.”

The man grabs your chin, forcing your lips to pucker up like a doll’s. “Like I need a fucked up bitch to keep me company.” He says, yet he keeps moving your head up and down as if he’s inspecting you for damage. As if he cares if you’re bruised, as if his fingers want to feel you for just a second longer. “Then let me go.” You bite back, and you watch his face go dark like a night sky. “No.” The boy - man shrieks, holding onto your arm for dear life. It hurts… but it’s also warm and tight - like an embrace, but not quite. “You deserve to suffer.” He quickly adds, pulling you closer to him. “Then torture me.” You add more fuel. “Do something. Anything.” You sink your teeth into his knees. “For once in your shitty miserable life do so–”

He kisses you. 

You don’t know how to describe the kiss. It’s neither passionate, nor aggressive. It’s desperate, yet it lacks strength. It’s a rushed thing. It’s a memory reminiscent of summer - in a quiet village, after an atom bomb. His lips are the flowers that eventually bloom before they’re stomped by soldier boots. You’re the half - lit match that turns it all to ashes. Your bodies are meant for destruction, and that’s why they fit together perfectly. 

“Let me have you.” He almost pleads once you separate, breathless, on the brink of insanity - as if he isn’t already there. His hands are on both sides of your waist, squeezing so hard it hurts, unstable fingers ready to grab and grope at any shape malleable enough. 

“No.” You wince, but your eyes remain cold and challenging. “Fuck you.” Devin replies, roughly spreading your thighs apart. “Fuck you.” He repeats as he rips into your throat, dragging his teeth against your sweet spot, making you really feel the sharp points tearing into your soft vulnerable skin. The thought of leaving his mark on you makes his stomach turn - and it terrifies him. You try not to look down, but you hear his belt hit the ground and soon his pants follow suit - and then you sense it right against your entrance. Sticky slick whiteness coats your white panties as it drips from the purpling tip so full it might burst by the friction alone.

His hard length rubs along your wet slit and with clenched teeth you anticipate the burn of the stretch, the way he’ll rip your underwear from you, your last protective shield - but it never comes. Yet you see it move in and out, in and out of you rhythmically. You can feel his warm breath on the back of your neck, his rasp groans into your ear, his hands moving your torso back and forth like a carousel. You finally look down. 

He’s fucking your thighs - through your panties, no less. 

“Hold your legs together.” The man barks at you, but his voice is so needy you can’t help giggling even as he manhandles you around like a ragdoll. “T-tighter.” You squeeze your thighs snuggly against his cock - and you hope it hurts him more than it hurts you. You throw your head back, leaning on his shoulder as you jeer gutturally, letting it all out in systematic bursts of laughter that sound more like black cigarette coughs. Or puffs. “God, you’re so pathetic.” You lazily stroke his shaft as it peeks down your stomach, oozing with pre - cum. “I bet your brother would have fucked me like a real man.”

He moves your head to the side with a brute slap, kissing you sloppily anywhere but your mouth - but it still does the trick of shutting you up. “Too bad he’s dead.” He leaves a trail of wet pecks down your throat. Your stomach is sticky. You feel disgusting. “Guess you’re mine now.”

You roll your eyes.

“Dream on.”

[phoenixyfriend]

Hey have a fun AU I came up with the other day after reading a bunch of fics with related tropes

It's a raised Sith AU. Anakin was found by Sidious well before he was found by Qui-Gon. He was raised by the Sith, is a classically horrible monster stalking about TCW to be Vader (mask and all, just as an intimidation factor instead of life support) while Ventress and Grievous and Dooku do their own things in a different section of the war. He's got a Really Fucking Weird dynamic with Obi-Wan, mostly attempting to kill him etc.

At some point, Palpatine allows Anakin and Padme to meet. The romance that blooms is one that Sheev decides is useful to him, so he lets it happen.*

Padme gets pregnant. Sidious arranges for her death. Anakin loses his entire shit and tries to kill Sidious. Obi-Wan is off trying to save Padme, unaware of Anakin getting his remaining limbs cut off by his this-universe Master. (This is important, because Anakin does remember Obi-Wan trying to save Padme.)

So we have Anakin, who was raised Sith, and just lost the only things that have mattered to him since his mom died when he was a kid, and Palpatine has pushed him further into the Dark than he ever has. Anakin… knows more about the Sith Secrets in this universe.

Anakin finds a Sithly Time Machine. Maybe on Malachor. There's an owl? Whatever.

Anakin, someone who's been Vader for the vast majority of his life, wakes up at age nine. Maybe even younger, like six. His mother is already dead at Sidious's hands. He's already roommates with Maul. He's already being trained as a baby Sith.

Anakin, being a 20 year old war veteran, is much better at escaping than Sidious has planned for. He reprograms a medical droid to take out his slave chip, steals a ship, etc. All the stuff that Maul wasn't very good at, and Anakin was too young for, so Sidious didn't have the preventative measures in place for yet.

Anakin heads for the one place and person he thinks he can trust: Obi-Wan Kenobi.

(Obi-Wan is still a padawan. But this Baby Sith just declared him Adoptive Teen Dad, so.)

@lizasweetling (all indented bits from here will be hers):

Because Sith. Bad for mental health of the user and generally bad for their environs But also baby. And if hes dragging Maul around no doubt the dude is constantly himself confused why he is here Like yeah, Sidious sucked, and this 6-9yo is way powerful and knowledgeable on the dark side (?????) But why are we going to the Jedi? And not even trying to kill them apparently?????

Anakin is very much being affected by Baby Brain and Baby Endocrine System. He cries a lot more than he should.

I WASN'T THINKING OF HIM BRINGING MAUL BUT YEAH. THAT'S. THAT'S A POSSIBILITY.

Jedi Council trying to decide if this is more "Adult Sith got shrunk" or "child got evil man's memories." Vader wants to know why it even MATTERS. (He didn't actually plan on telling them, but he has very little self control right now.)

The first Good Act he does is tell them where to find Ventress and Ky. (In the original timeline, he viewed Ventress as like. Cool older cousin.)

Vader's right, that distinction does not matter Aaaw, she deserves that, that's nice Maybe she will be like 20% less homocidally traumatized

Anakin is furious when Maul and Obi-Wan pick him up under one arm like a package. He is a GROWN MAN he is an ADULT he was a SITH LORD and about to be a FATHER, he is TOO OLD FOR THIS.

They point out that he is Baby.

😂 sorry lord of evil, you're too baby, have a nap and maybe your feel better. Assuming the crisis on Naboo is still happening, and as such the vote of no confidence is right now, it might be a great time to report Sidious as a Sith lord. Post-escape from Sidious, both he and Maul definitely will need a nap. It's that kinda place.

Oh, it's probably at least a year before. Anakin keeps trying to sneak off to kill the man himself, but the Jedi are more ready for his Sneaking than Mustafar was, so he keeps getting caught before he can reach the Senate.

At one point he tries to just CHARGE the place and you get Mace and Obi-Wan sprinting after him. The News captures videos of this very small child getting chased by an older Padawan and a Master and they are mostly yelling for him to PUT DOWN THE SABER.

(Sidious might see him but what's he going to do? Might cause too many problems for Sidious to be aware of Anakin's presence with the Jedi, though. Best not.)

It's probably more expensive on average to hire an assassin on a child, just in general But on a jedi youngling??? If he can even find someone to do that, it will be so very, ridiculously expensive And likely 70%+ upfront payments

Ahsoka definitely seeks him out. Toddler baby child. She adores him for reasons unclear to anyone and everyone.

!!! Baby has baby!! Vader's probably a little thrown by this. Been a while subjectively since someone just loved him. And not even for like, a reason. Baby Vader coerced into sitting obediently for nap by tired kiddo: [The council liked that]

The number of times that vader could only be convinced to nap by Obi-Wan grabbing him, caging him in his own lap, and forced to Sit Quietly until he just fell asleep like that...

He has things to do, he's not tired 😡😡😡💢 (He's 9. Distances are between 150 and 195% longer when measured with steps, he's hungry (subjectively) all the time, and has only middling coordination He so is too tired)

Anakin doesn't know Qui-Gon at all but he keeps getting stuffed into the man's top because he's just. Small enough to fit.

Like the bomb boobs gif, but it's a small child.

the indignity

You just. You can't let him get too self-important.

Vader is Disgusted every time the pediatric healers try to talk down to him like they do to other 6yos.

The difference between this and other "Vader goes back in time to the Jedi" AUs (like Force of Many Sights) is that this Vader has never been a Jedi, and doesn't know anything about them except how they fight when he's trying to kill their friends.

Also Maul's there.

Because even he has a hard time taking himself seriously when hes so easy to manhandle Rest of the time; I am fear, I am death personified As luggage child: I am so small. The tiniest. I crave violence He's probably very annoyed they keep taking away his saber And hey! Obi gets practice not losing his! Woooo!

Something something Anakin clinging to Maul's back (piggy back ride) and chewing on his head or something stupid like that. Perfect height for head biting.

You know, the classic anime head bite

Maul probably has been nominally talked into this because this 9yo is a powerful darksider But he is also the world's most annoying tiny kid Maul would've thought his phenotype would make him immune to this ridiculousness He was wrong At least the teeth are a bit less pointy than his other little brothers'? Appreciating the little things

tfw your unwanted little brother drags you to what you think is a cult but actually they're way less culty than your last two places so you just stick around to keep an eye on the little shit

Anyway. ObiMaul for this one.

They're peers They're tired They just want to sit down and not have to chase this weird little murder child They have a lot in common 😊

They are all just a little bit stupid, I love them.

Qui-Gon is a Cool Mom (throws condoms at them and books it).

Yeah, that's about as much involvement as would be appreciated They probably did a lot of sparring before the tension broke Which did not relieve said tension, generally made it worse (Competence, athleticism, sweat-) Vader is confused, but probably doesn't mind He's probably glad they're distracting each other from stopping assassinating a certain someone (Which- that is 9yo hubris. He would need help to do that)

I still can't decide where on 6yo-9yo he falls but somewhere in there

Babies means easier hiding in shirt, teenie Ahsoka, and longer for him to convince the Jedi council to do a Sith hunt before the Naboo situation

Also longer for Maul and Obi-Wan to faff about being all Tension

* Vaguely inspired by the backstory of Rulebreaker/Wildheart, which is great but significantly more of a romance fic than this.

[ayabeanworks]

Title: Sweet Dreams

Synopsis: Part 1/3 sequel of Can I Meet You Again? & I'm Home. AU where Geto doesn't defect. Satoru's always been looking your way unintentionally and expresses his fondness of you in actions. But he doesn't understand the way his heart would beat faster the more he basks in your radiance - not until the very last moment, one in which he wished he could rewind time.

Character: Gojo Satoru x reader

Series: Let's Meet in the Spring (SaShiSu x reader)

Notes: This is a sequel to Can I Meet You Again & I'm Home. Pretty much angst with doses of fluff! Mainly in Gojo's POV.

Part 2 (Geto Suguru) here!

Part 3 (Ieiri Shoko) here!

Gojo Satoru would often sneak a couple of kisses to your forehead while you were sleeping.

It was a sweet gesture, something intimate, but could also be something platonic. Something that didn't need words to relay the affections of the person initiating. It was just a kiss, one between best friends.

Right?

That's what Satoru thought when he held your body in his arms on Suguru's curse, voice quivering as he shouted, hands shaking as you bled in his arms.

When you lifted your arm to cradle his cheek and smooth out the area in between his brows, something inside him shattered. The armour surrounding his heart felt fragile and cracked, just like when Riko had died and he wasn't able to protect her even though he vowed to. But, this time it was worse.

It was much worse.

He felt like he was dying.

It was like someone had ripped out his heart after smashing through the armour, stomped on it a thousand times, then pierced it with several knives. Except, his heart was still attached to him and supplying him with life that he could still feel everything.

He could only let out a choked sob because he knew exactly what you wanted to say without even having you say it. He'd been paying attention to you all this time, after all.

Your eyes are too beautiful to be panicking, 'toru.

His six eyes could see many things, but they couldn't predict this type of outcome. The only thing he could see now was the heat leaving your body, the functions beginning to cease.

He didn't want this.

He didn't want you to leave the world like this.

Why would you do this?

Why did you have to take the extreme road?

Why couldn't you have stayed by their side?

By his side?

Why?

Why?

As he wrapped his trembling fingers around your wrist, it was all he could do to support the life ending before his eyes. You didn't know how to use a reverse cursed technique nor was there anyone except Shoko around who was able to do it on another person, so there wasn't any time to waste if he wanted to keep you alive.

But if someone's artery gets cut so deeply, what were the chances of them living after losing so much blood?

There were so many thoughts that went through Satoru's head, but there were none that had a positive conclusion for you.

The only positive conclusion would be when he saw your last apologetic smile change into a serene, calm expression. The day in which he lost the radiance known as you.

He could only scream when he realised he wouldn't be able to see you again, nor will you ever realise the dream you shared with your best friends.

Satoru made you feel safe. His behaviour was fairly flippant and annoying at times, but he was strong, reliable (sometimes even in an aggravating way) and knew what he was doing. Trusting in him was already something you did before you could even think about it - his charisma and loyalty to keeping his promises was strong, covered with layers and layers of bravado similar to the layers of the crepe cake he so loved.

It was one of Satoru's wishes to see you also become a teacher beside him, teaching younger students the system that is Jujutsu and fostering the new generations of sorcerers to overcome the waves of curses that seemed to be getting stronger and stronger.

He'd always thought you'd be a great teacher - you were someone personable and quite loveable, someone who's able to teach others and scold them when needed, soft or hard depending on the situation. He thought it'd make a great balance to his own teaching style and Suguru's.

He could imagine the students running up to you whenever they'd see you, grinning ear to ear as they told you about their day. Suguru and him would be watching in the distance or would by chance catch it while on their way to the next class - in which it would bring smiles to their lips at such a happy atmosphere.

A great distraction from what was to come, and the nature of their jobs as Jujutsu sorcerers.

It was hardly a happy job, faced with the disgusting things known as curses bred by humans. It was no wonder there were those who retired and didn't want anything to do with the world. However, there had to be someone, someone who would work with other selected sorcerers to overcome the negative emotions of society, and fight for a safer and happier place.

And that someone included you.

So when he found his heart beating faster on a random afternoon where you were illuminated by the late afternoon light, he froze in his spot, feet planted on the ground as his mind went blank.

You were so bright, so beautiful and oh so magnetic.

You didn't even do anything but hand him the crepe while smiling. You'd ordered it first after school since it was your weekly crepe day with Satoru, and scolded him jokingly while handing it to him.

Since Satoru was late, he did mutter some apologies but in a very joking way. But the way his words fell off his lips when you handed the crepe to him with a smile ignited his chest in flames, engulfing his whole being as he stuttered out a random joke that didn't have anything to do with whatever he was saying before.

He was lucky the afternoon light was orange as it drowned out how flushed his cheeks and ears were after realising exactly what had happened. He felt so embarrased to continue looking at you after his realisation, but he couldn't look away.

You were just so, so captivating to him.

He didn't even know why he felt this way, is what he tried to reason in his brain, but he already knew, and pushed it deep down. You two had been good friends for a while, and while he was comfortable with the arrangement, these new feelings made him want more.

It didn't help that you were always around so Satoru didn't ever get to breathe.

But, whilst he realised his feelings and came to terms with them later down the track after some period of denial and adjustment, he was grimly reminded that he didn't ever tell you of his feelings.

And he wouldn't ever be able to.

He liked to think those forehead kisses amounted to something - something much closer than just friends, someone who was like a close friend.

But at the same time, close friends don't kiss each other like this so intimately, do they?

Maybe he was just in denial yet again, or maybe he was likening his situation to friendship between women to make himself more comfortable because he didn't want to think too deeply about it, even though he knew the truth deep down.

When he found himself thinking that when he pressed his lips to the top of your head, he wondered to himself why he would even bother. It wasn't as if you would be able to reciprocate in the way that he'd like the most - it was an unrequited, one sided love at best.

And with that in mind, the little sting in his heart began to fester, but he didn't care. He didn't care that it stung him, he didn't care that it was all him. He was content in bathing in your radiance, and wanting nothing more than to stay in that light, he'd do anything, including supressing everything he wanted and more.

But now that you weren't here, the only light he could cling to was Suguru and Shoko.

But they weren't you, and they felt it too.

There was only one time when you felt Satoru's lips on your forehead. It was when you were in a contemplative mood about the future of yourself and others as Jujutsu sorcerers, about the dangers that lay ahead and the uncertainty of everything and everyone involved. He was just there to listen - you had wanted to talk to Suguru about it but he was on a mission, and Shoko was busy dissecting a curse for the night. Satoru was the only one you could turn to.

You were about to sleep after listening to his soft hums, which were a contrast to his usual annoying bratty tone, but felt a tap and his body move closer before you realised what was going on. And everything within you knew that if you 'woke up' right now, the atmosphere would be ruined.

So you let him before actually dozing off in his arms.

Unbeknownst to you, Satoru knew, and he did it this one time a tad bit early and was freaking out a little inside. But thankfully, you didn't do anything so he calmed down, but he couldn't stop the hot flush that spread through his body for getting caught. However, he didn't dare move, and you enjoyed the extra warmth for the night while snuggling into him.

It was all worth it in the end for him, and he was glowing the next day, grinning ear to ear as he felt the best he had in ages.

You had no idea what was going on, dismissing it as just a usual antic of Satoru on a cool autumn day.

The crepe shop where Satoru and you frequented was a little tradition that you both had when you first discovered it in your first year at Jujutsu High. Satoru was a sweet tooth and more often than not, dragged the rest of you around to try some new place. The one that stuck, was that specific crepe shop.

It was so delicious that Satoru declared he would go back every week as a joke, but when you said you would join him because you liked sweets also, he was ecstatic and you both made it a thing.

That's why his feet took him to the shop, reminiscing the old times he was fond of. It was a path he took more than a thousand times over several hundred years, hoping to at least catch a glimpse of you - of the radiance he was robbed of in front of his very eyes.

But this time, he wanted to see you without having to suppress the words he wanted to say, without having to see you lose your mind, without having you live in a world where you were forced to mold yourself into something you weren't proud of due to societal standards and without having to see you choose the ending that even you didn't want.

He wanted to hear you say his nickname again with that sweet voice of yours, the same way you've said it again and again, so that the strings of his heart would play again.

He didn't want to stop hearing your voice. He'd been deprived of it for so long - he yearned for it so much, he'd hear it in his dreams, and his heart would hurt, as if to tell him he's being a fucking idiot and that he should just stop because there was no way he was ever going to see you again.

But he wished, and wished so badly for it to happen, that it eventually did, many, many years later.

Now the memory that kept him alive through the unwritten response to the letter you gave him, could now be spoken directly to you, face to face in a world without curses, just as you so wished.

A/N: And here's the sequel from mainly Gojo's POV! There's also Suguru and Shoko's part as well, and it's a direct sequel to Can I Meet You Again? & I'm Home. Enjoy! 💞

[a-killer-obsession]

Android!Killer notes and lore

Post will probably be updated over time as I think of more things 💙

Official name: Killer 2.0. Bounty posters call him Metal Man Killer. Marines considered him a new pirate, so he had to start his bounty from scratch, and as such is no longer considered a Supernova

Built by Kid to deal with his grief after Killer dies. Android contains his brain, retrieved from his original body after it took too much damage to support life

If you see posts with him interacting with original Killer its cos its just a fun lighthearted alternate timeline where Kid just built him as a replacement just in case. Don't ask me how he gave it Killer's personality, those posts are just for the giggles

Uses his original mask (repaired and restored) as headpiece. Lights have been installed in the holes to fill the gaps and hide the underlying electronics and brain

Helmet contains lenses for vision. Equiped with higher level vision such as nightvision, thermal imagining and xray

Aerial on side of helmet allows for better hearing as well as allowing others to communicate with him directly via den-den

Just as strong and agile as he was in his human body, though it did take a lot of physical rehab to get used to the mechanical body

Metal sections made from high quality metals making him essentially bullet proof

Basically, he's a purpose built super soldier

Water resistant, but not submerge safe. Kid is a skilled engineer, but hes no Vegapunk. Killer 2.0 can not submerge his chest section, or his systems will fail to work, and much like a devil fruit user he would sink like a stone. He can be pulled out and repaired, his brain is well protected, but he can't save himself

Chest, abdomen and buttocks are squishy, imagine the texture/firmness of those silicone chicken fillets you use to make your tits look bigger

Has a cock that's essentially a dildo that can emerge from a slit in the rubber between his legs, and yes it can vibrate

He can feel touch on most of his body, though mostly it just feels like pressure, he's basically a touch lamp, but Kid had Franky help him wire some parts to feel more, such as his hands and dick, allowing for pleasure, though he doesn't really have the ability to 'finish'. He can recieve an artificial boost of hormones to simulate pleasure and satisfaction but thats as close as it gets

Why did Kid give him a dick? Because he's a good friend, that's why totally no other reason

No mouth or asshole though, bit of an oversight on Kid's part tbh

Doesn't actually plug his hair in to sleep, those cables are entirely just scrap for show, hastily spraypainted to replicate Killer's hair. He does get plugged in to charge, but his cable comes out of the panel on of of his hands (both hands have charging cables for convenience so he can use whichever side is easier)

Lights flash when he's on charge because Kid stole the wiring and coding from some random electronic. He regrets it every fucking night.

Spends a lot of time oiling and polishing his hair cables and touching up the paint, it's sort of a force of habit but mostly it makes him feel more normal. Ties his hair up with zipties sometimes.

Serious mental health issues. I mean come on, the dude went through all the Wano bullshit, literally fucking died, and now he's not even human. Please someone get him some therapy. Sometimes uses his old lipstick to draw a big smile on his mask when he's having a mental breakdown.

Still loves to cook, but now he has to have a taste tester with him because he has no capacity to eat or taste

Kid obsessively does maintenance on him every single day because he can't bear to lose him again

Kid also needs therapy. This whole android situation is a cry for help tbh

Kid did his best to replicate Killer's voice, but there's something electronic and uncanny about it

All the Android AU posts

Refs:

[justheretoposttrash]

day 12 of the final endhawks: endhawkspocalypse:

the adhd side of my brain has taken over and decided that consistency can No Longer Happen, so i've decided to make this my last day of posting, at least when it comes to sequential daily posts. i'm still unhinged-ly working on endhawks-related things for the foreseeable future though, and always happy to talk about the ship!

here's a final hodgepodge of thoughts!

part 1 - more ch430 positives

the continued use of a ranked *number system* in particular is silly imo (ig the masses do love a catchy numbered list). but at the very least, i gotta appreciate that the main characters didn't get top rankings straight outta school--when i think about how old they are post-timeskip compared to hawks, especially! bbygirl got #2 at 22 but was child-soldiered into it and was absolutely breaking his proverbial back. it's really not an aspirational thing to beat, and it's not something the main characters have to achieve to be "cool" or fulfilled narratively. they focused on their happiness, instead--shoto on finding his own identity and balancing his life thanks to his support system, bakugo on getting his boyfriend/whatever/queerplatonic-died-in-each-others'-arms-on-a-battlefield-in-a-past-life-and-now-they-keep-reincarnating-together soul-partners/rival back at his side so they can keep pushing each other, etc.! mirio's ascent notwithstanding, it's a healthy nugget from the final chap.

another cute thing from 430 is when hawks jokes that nagant is a villain. this joke has layers to it, considering both had to take on the villain label because of the commission, also contributing to their respective traumas under the commission. (they both even had someone cradle them in their arms shouting that they were still a hero despite them being at their low points--and physically very crispy. one of those someones being hawks himself, ofc.)

next, i gotta appreciate how unfettered hawks's facial expressions have become (also, his under-eyes are already thicker and darker, bro needs to sleep 😭) compared to how subdued they were in the twice fight (and to be clear, his expressions still screamed volumes then. i love how they're drawn to convey so much nuance in his emotions). once he was cut free from the commission, he stopped putting on a smile while doing hero work (there wasn't much to smile about post-raid, but pre-raid i'd argue things were bleak for him already, so at least he doesn't feel the need to put on as many airs). he also started actively sweating and showing fear, but without losing more genuine displays of confidence and happiness. (all this makes me very curious if his speech patterns have also changed in the original japanese to any extent compared to how they were at his introduction)

part 2 - dabi=endhawks truther?!?! *not clickbait*

i remember it being kinda hilarious that dabi tossed out hawks's history as an extra "fuck you" to endeavor, but i forgot how direct he is about his intentions.

he's just like, "yeah, i specifically wanted to drag hawks (and reveal his betrayal and hopefully shake your faith in him) to hurt you, dad. even though you two have hung out, like, maybe twice (may he rest in peace) in your whole lives. trust me, i knew this would be devastating for you. don't ask me how i know." like. touya my man. what are you doing. also thank you. almost makes the angst-lover in me wish he'd added a "don't worry about hawks, dad. you'll be joining him soon" right before attacking him with prominence burn to twist the knife, though understandably that would've convoluted the spotlight when the focus was meant to be on family and the touya reveal. but goddamn, just imagine.

he basically did the exact same thing to hawks by telling him his identity. in revealing a name that could only hold any significance to hawks through its relation to endeavor and what touya's existence implies about him, touya wielded a secret from endeavor's past to psychologically hurt hawks and shake his faith. it's just wild that he did it to both of them, pulled off flawlessly and with maximum drama, in rapid succession. legendary.

anyway, ppl tend to portray dabi as an endhawks anti, when funnily he's kinda more on the side of enjoying the fact they have a connection--granted, mainly as a thing to leverage to hurt them, bc he fuckin despises them (and granted, hatred in dabi's eyes is a complicated thing)--but still! he ain't in denial about endeavor's and hawks's relationship, he's an og! he's first in line! this makes his daddy issue allegations so much worse, but he doesn't care! and honestly i owe my life to him for his service in unearthing the truth; he's doing canon, in-text work to forcefeed the public endhawks crumbs that they didn't even want, and he deserves our utmost respect 🫡🫡🫡🫡🫡

part 3 - our hero academia ft. protective enji

my mind was too wrapped up in The Plot to notice the subtleties of when Press Conference Lady yells at endeavor post-raid--for one thing, i realize on a second read that she's actually kinda yelling at hawks. so much of the emphasis is on endeavor's past actions that i didn't pick up on a few key details. for one, when hawks discusses his murder of jin, the visual centers endeavor's reaction, solemn but accepting/calm.

secondly, Press Con Lady speaks up right after hawks is done talking. thirdly, what she describes--not looking sorry, empty-seeming apologies, incompetence in the face of villains--apply as criticisms equally to hawks as they do to endeavor (notably not to jeanist, as he doesn't have a past or scandalous behavior to answer for).

it's also at this time that endeavor looks more angry (just look at his frown in the panel above!) and actually gives some pricklier-sounding pushback, when before he was mainly resolved and remorseful.

notably, he's translated as saying "we" and "our". ofc he's paying respect to his colleagues at large as well, but considering Press Con's criticisms are pointed most specifically and apply most to hawks and himself, he's strongly implying and acknowledging the pain that hawks has been through.

as he goes on to speak, the word choice shifts away from "us" and "we" to "me" as he claims responsibility for what happens next and urges peoples' slings and arrows to aim at him alone--again, for the sake of his colleagues and family at large, but particularly for hawks in this moment.

the undercurrents are so understated in this scene, but the degree to which endeavor shifts the language and focus away from hawks and onto himself is profound. throughout mha, we've got plenty of thought bubbles showing how hawks feels about endeavor in outright terms, but not as many from endeavor about hawks, especially after all their dirty laundry gets aired out. but even without thought bubbles, how he feels about hawks even at the worst of times becomes perfectly clear.

(god they drive me insane lmao)

[robertreich]

The First Step to Fixing the Electoral College

Should someone else's vote count more than yours?

For 80% of Americans, that’s exactly what’s happening. Their vote for president isn’t nearly as valuable as the vote of someone in a so-called “swing state.” Why?

Most of us live in states that have become so predictably Democratic or Republican that we’re taken for granted by candidates. Presidential elections now turn on the dwindling number of swing states that could go either way, which gives voters in those states huge leverage.

The 2020 election came down to just over 40,000 votes spread across just three swing states.

2016 came down to fewer than 80,000 votes also across three states.

In those elections, the national popular vote wasn’t that close. In fact, in the last five elections, the winners of the popular vote beat their opponents by an average of 5 million votes.

The current state-by-state, electoral college system of electing presidents is creating ever-closer contests in an ever-smaller number of closely divided states for elections that aren’t really that close.

Not only that, but these razor-thin swing state margins can invite post-election recounts, audits, and lawsuits — even attempted coups. A losing candidate might be able to overturn 40,000  votes with these techniques. Overturning 5 million votes would be nearly impossible.

The current system presents a growing threat to the peaceful transition of power.

It also strips us of our individual power. If you’re a New York Republican or an Alabama Democrat, presidential candidates have little incentive to try and win your vote under the current system. They don’t need broad popular support as much as a mobilized base in a handful of swing states. Campaigning to a smaller and more radical base is also leading to uglier, more divisive campaigns.

And it’s become more and more likely that candidates are elected president without winning the most votes nationwide. It’s already happened twice this century.

Now, fixing the Electoral College should be the ultimate goal. But this requires a constitutional amendment — which is almost impossible to pull off because it would need a two-thirds vote by Congress plus approval by three-quarters of all state legislatures.

But, in the meantime, there’s an alternative — and it starts with getting our states to join the National Popular Vote Interstate Compact. Don’t let that mouthful put you off. It could save our democracy.

This compact would guarantee the presidency to the candidate who receives the most popular votes nationwide WITHOUT a constitutional amendment.

How does it work?

The Constitution assigns each state a number of electors equal to its number of representatives and senators. As of now, the total number of electors is 538. So anyone who gets 270 or more of those Electoral College votes becomes president.

Article 2 of the Constitution allows state legislatures to award their electors any way they want.

So all that’s needed is for states with a total of at least 270 electoral votes to agree to award all their electoral votes to the presidential candidate who wins the national popular vote.

The movement to do this is already underway. 15 states and the District of Columbia have joined the compact, agreeing that once enough states join, all their electoral votes will go to the popular vote winner.

Together, states in the compact have 195 electoral votes. So we just need a few more states with at least 75 electors to join the compact and it’s done.

Popular vote laws have recently been introduced in Michigan [15 electors] and Minnesota [10 electors], which if passed, would bring the total to 220.

Naturally, this plan will face legal challenges. There are a lot of powerful interests who stand to benefit by maintaining the current system.

But if we keep up the fight and get enough states on board, America will never again elect a president who loses the national popular vote. No longer would 80 percent of us be effectively disenfranchised from presidential campaigns. And a handful of votes in swing states would no longer determine the winner — inviting recounts, audits, litigation, and attempted coups that threaten our democracy.

If you want to know more or get involved, click this link to read about the National Popular Vote Interstate Compact.

If your state is not already a member, I urge you to contact your state’s senators and reps to get your state on board.  

[bokettochild]

If Legend were to lose his memory, what would happen?

Oh boy!

(Warning, I got really into this! It's not a fic, but it might as well be LOL)

Full personality reset!

Legend is a hero who started young, and while there's not a lot in the games to go off of, the manga, official art, and some circumstances indicate that prior to LA he was actually a really sweet, caring, openly positive sort of guy with a big heart. Granted, he was still a smart-aleck if you read the manga, and got sassy and snarky at times, but he was generally someone I think most people would enjoy being around. But then LA happened, and then ALBW, and maybe a few more adventures (someone converted me to add Cadence of Hyrule to the roster but I don't know where). Suddenly, he's not only going through puberty, but he's dealing with world ending threats left, right, and forward. He can't catch a break, he's under a lot of stress, and the people he should be able to rely on either betray him or disappear.

Cue the salty vet we know. He's wary and guarded. He's still got a big heart and a great sense of humor, but now he's not ready to share those as much. He cares enough to protect the other heroes from injury or from Time's harsh words, but he's not ready to lower his guard enough to relax and be who he was. There's too much distrust, too much certainty that they'll be like all the other people he counted on and either disappear or betray him, or just not understand. Sure, they're heroes, but at most, any of them has only ever had two adventures. They don't get what it's like spending your whole life running around the world saving people and fighting monsters, to the point where you don't have time for family, for growing up properly, for establishing connections or support systems or any of the important things that the other heroes DO have time for.

Legend, as he is, is a wary and guarded individual who shields himself by using snark and jokes to divert attention away from his weaknesses and insecurities. Why? Because his past taught him to be like that.

What if you take away the memories of his past though? What if, suddenly, Legend has no recollection of the betrayals of Hyrule's Knights? Of the person he thought was a friend but tried to kill him once she knew what his bloodline was (Ghanti)? Suddenly, he only knows he's got scars and is in a lot of pain all of the time. He doesn't know why, but he has no reason to doubt that the people around him, who are like him (more Hylians! They've almost died out in his time, but here they are!) are telling the truth when they desperately insist that he's their companion.

Granted, he's still Legend, he's still got anxiety and that Bunny Spirit likely means he's wary by nature of things/people he doesn't know, but once he's given good reason, why shouldn't he accept these people? Why shouldn't he openly show emotion and care and warmth?

Meanwhile for the other heroes, it's whiplash. Legend got the worst side of a battle/dungeon/accident and they were all worried and waiting for him to wake up, but when he does? Blank. He has no clue who they are, where he is, who he is, or what's going on. Horror quickly overtakes them as they realize that holy shoot, did he lose his memories too?

I think in such a situation, Wild would be the one to basically take one look at another amnesiac hero and decide he's going to help out the best he can because, for once in Legend's life, someone knows exactly what he's going through. So what if Legend's suddenly more open and understanding? So what if he laughs off his lack of memories like a bad joke, assuring them that he's sure they'll come back? So what if suddenly Legend is teasing and playing around like someone his age would normally do? He's affectionate and warm and encourages the others, but his self esteem is utter and complete shit, which...their vet has his pride? This kid has some, but not in himself so much as that he has enough to not appreciate being made the butt of every joke or some such.

Memory loss doesn't tend to hamper a persons ability to accomplish tasks or know core information (history facts, how to write/read, stuff like that) so Legend still can wield a sword and fight beside them, but he's not fighting like normal because he's not adapting around their needs anymore, so it still throws them off. He doesn't cover their tails so much as dance around the enemy instead and kick ass. It's new, it's different, and this version of Legend no longer understands that it's important for him to hold back. (And once he realizes the armory he has at his fingertips, all his items, well!)

In general though, it's probably shocking for them. He's an expressive kid, he's got a big heart, he loves to laugh but sometimes he shuts down because the anxiety is winning and he no longer knows how to cope with that. It's Legend, yes, but it's Legend with all the shields and guards lowered, almost gone. He's instinctively scared of things that normal Legend is, but he doesn't know why, or that he's supposed to hide it. He can't tell them why the storms make him hyperventilate or why Wolfie's presence sets him ill at ease, only that it does and that hey, if I pass out, don't freak out okay?

He's openly affectionate, he's attentive and caring, he's warm and playful. He still snarks at those in authority and he still teases and jokes, but it's without that harsh bite from before. It's a strange thing for the heroes because as sweet as this kid is, they're being torn by two emotions.

It's sort of heartbreaking that behind all that hurt and wariness, there was this sweet kid. Seeing Legend like this makes them realize that he's essentially had his life stolen by adventuring and it's hurt him a lot, turned him into a different person. The contrast makes them realize just how much the adventures affected the vet and how little they really understand who he was before and how he was affected.

They miss him. Like, yeah, this version of him is great and all, but they've become used to having someone in their group who will bite and snap and hiss, and without that, it throws off their whole balance! Legend used to say what everyone else was thinking but had the good manners to not say, he was the conduit of their darker thoughts and feelings, and if he expressed things, then no one else needed to. Now he's not doing that so they ARE and the realization that maybe they're all a bit more jaded then they let on, maybe the soft is a little harsher, makes them all uncomfortable.

They want their guarded, harsh, veteran hero back, but the cost is losing the sweet teenager whose taken his place.

And I know you asked about Legend but hey, this would 100% set off some stuff for Wild too, because now he knows. He gets to witness firsthand how other people are affected when a loved one loses their memories and becomes a different person. I think for him it would shed some light on a lot of things, that maybe being without some memories is a blessing; it might mean he's a happier and kinder person than he used to be. But at the same time, the fact that the other heroes, and even himself when he's not thinking about it, still expect the body and face they recognize to act in certain ways, so when Legend doesn't, they get thrown off and confused, I think that would bother him. He tries really hard, but when he realizes that the others want back the traumatized and utterly broken version of his friend, it hurts part of him too because not only does this mean they want an unhappy Legend more (in his mind), it also means that people don't want the version of him that he is now either, because they probably want the old him back too.

I think Wild would be highly defensive over the vet, would be shattered at the others wanting Legend to turn back to normal because what's wrong with how he is now? Why does he have to be someone different? It's a loaded question because he means it as much about himself as Legend.

If Legend went without getting most of his memories back, or even just started getting a few but, like Wild, disassociating them from himself, or even if he got them back slowly and thus just processed them as they came, learning things but not changing back into who he was, I feel like it could mess with things. Wild is supportive and helpful. He sits with him and talks him through stuff, they discuss memories and coping mechanisms and Wild, a person who knows who Legend was before, is there to assure and give answers where he can. In such a case, I think Legend would slowly regain things, but like Wild, wouldn't become who he used to be just because he's got the memories back. He's more sedate than when he didn't have them, but he's not as harsh as when he had them all. He's quieter, deals with a lot of insecurities about it, but Wild is there to assure and help him grow and overcome and move past and he just...becomes a different person entirely. Because yes, same traumas and memories, but now it's like they're happening again for the first time, only he has support now, he has help now, he has a coping mechanism and ways to process it in healthy ways now and he just...grows around those scars.

Alternatively, if he did somehow recover all his memories, just like that, and went back to being his old self, I think we'd just have a Legend with a new story under his belt. Wild though? Wild would be utterly devastated. Everyone is so happy to have the old Legend back, they're glad he's not the version of himself without memories. They like him better like this, like how he's supposed to be. It's heart shattering for Wild becomes the implications that the people who know him feel the same way about him is heart-breaking.

As a note, I don't think the other heroes would be asses about the situation. They're just really glad their old friend is back because as nice as the other version of him is, it's not the version they know and share memories and experiences with. They would have accepted it if he'd never remembered, but the relief that comes with having him back to himself, having him predictable and familiar and balancing out their group and dynamics again, it's overwhelming because they missed him.

If he never recovered into who he was though, I feel like they'd still accept and embrace him. They mourn who he used to be, but this new version of Legend would understand. He'd feel bad that he's not who they remember, but he appreciates that they lost a friend and that they need the time. He's somewhat insecure, much like Wild, over not being who he was, but the Chain are all Links; they adapt, and eventually they grow around the loss and accept the new Legend like he's just joined them. I think he'd probably decide to use a different title, maybe call himself the Hero of Worlds since Legend was a different guy altogether, and it helps everyone move on better. The Hero of Legend is gone, and the Hero of Worlds just joined. It makes coping easier, growing around it easier, and it's better for World because they can talk about "Legend" all they like and it's like talking about a different guy entirely.

In the case of his memories coming slowly and him never coming back, I think they'd all learn to move on, adapt, and accept World in Legend's place.

In the case of Legend coming back fully though, I think the others would regard it as a crazy story to tell, while Wild would be utterly and completely shattered by it. He'd still accept Legend back of course, it's not Legend's fault, but he would struggle so, so much with the whole thing.

So yeah! That's what I think would happen!

[most-datable-datable-bracket]

I can empathize with being disappointed that your favs are losing, I do. So you want to know why Garrus has so much support? Are you wondering where the propaganda is? I'll give it to you.

Let's set aside the fact that the Mass Effect series is in itself a highly influential piece of sci fi that has been around for 15 years and has a greater hold on pop culture than most games. And let's honestly set aside sexual orientation - if being bi automatically makes you more dateable, then that should have been in the rules - because we often choose our genders in games, and a dateable character will make you want to play as another gender just to be with them (e.g. the only time I ever played male in Dragon Age Inquisition was because I fucking love Cassandra so much, istg).

So, Garrus. Yeah, he's a former cop, one who watched criminals get away with murder or worse, often because they could grease the right palms - the guy he asks you to help him find was a geneticist using human test subjects to grow organs and sell them illegally, who used hostages to stop the authorities from firing on him. You don't have to agree about how he wants to handle it, but damn, it's hard not to feel for someone sick of injustice and watching good people get hurt.

After your character dies (don't worry, you get better), he is disillusioned with the entire system and runs away to a place on the edge of the universe where crime and corruption runs rampant. He makes the gangs' lives hell and saves innocent peoples' lives until his team is killed, and when you find him, he's cornered by the gangs and ready to lose all hope. He literally takes a rocket to the face and is permanently disfigured for the rest of the series. He eventually asks you to help him find the man responsible for his team's demise, themself a member of his team that sold them out. And you know what? You can let the guy go and convince Garrus to end his need for revenge, because he respects you so damn much that he will question such things because you ask it of him.

In the third game, when the galaxy is on the verge of annihilation, and when his planet is under attack and he doesn't even know if his family members are alive, he will still join you and stand by your side because he has so much faith that YOU are capable of saving the galaxy, and he's willing to bet the lives of his family and all of his species on YOU. And he does this whether you are romanced or not.

So we have a disabled, traumatised veteran who is willing to question his values for someone he respects, who literally believes you are capable of saving the galaxy and will protect your back while you do it. He befriends someone from a species his people severely warred with, he will callibrate the shit out of your guns so you never lose a firefight, and for an alien, he dances a mean tango.

This is why we love Garrus Vakarian.

^

[roman-cup]

hhhhh Thinking about how so many people in Phoenix's life just. Leave, for one reason or another.

When he was a kid, Miles was someone who was so important to him, and he just disappeared from class one day and Phoenix had zero idea why. Which later had such a effect on him that once he sees Miles has become a prosecutor, he changes his college major just for the chance to see him again

But in college when he was working on that law degree, he meets Dahlia. And they start dating (Ignoring the iris situation rn) and he is so happy and like lovesick about the whole thing. He ate glass for her. She frames him for murder and goes to jail and obviously he loses her there.

But at least he met Mia from that! Mia became his mentor and he cared deeply for her. And she ends up dying after Phoenix first ever case. (Even after she dies her profile still describes her as "A friend forever" or something like that. ) Mia is still around because Maya and Pearl but she isn't really THERE.

He meets Maya. They aren't really That close in Ace Attorney 1. I think they are both still grieving for Mia to intensely, and in different ways, to really gain that connection just yet. Plus at the time Phoenix is very focused on Miles, that he doesn't really notice how upset Maya is.

But Phoenix does care about her. And she leaves for a bit too. Like. She has every right too of course, I respect her for it. But afterwards Phoenix spends months NOT taking any cases because he misses her so much. The only reason he takes the Lana Skye case is because Ema reminded him of Maya.

And sometime after the Lana Skye case, Miles "The prosecution choices death" Edgeworth fakes his death. Leaving Phoenix now alone and with no closure. Maya is still gone, he doesn't actually like Larry, and even if he did, Larry isn't the kind of guy he can have a serious talk about stuff with, with stuff like this. Phoenix has zero support system. Not that he would open up even if he did, but he doesn't even really have the option.

Maya comes back, to her being accused of murder, but its ok. Phoenix helps her and they have each other's backs.

Maya gets kidnapped.

This is so different then her just leaving to take a short train ride over to her village. Phoenix is nervous that she might die, and Maya actively encourages him to get Matt a guilty verdict even though she WILL DIE and he can't do anything about it.

and then Miles comes back with his smug "Your hatred for me is one-sides" or whatever he said and ahhh, Phoenix deserved to just break down right there. Phoenix had been angerly grieving for a man who was still alive, and now he's here, alive, and also his best friend has been kidnapped and also he has to babysit Pearl. And Miles doesn't seem to realize/want to realize the effect he has had on Phoenix and I know he was going though his own stuff but ahhh.

They get Maya back and Miles leaves AGAIN after this. Phoenix and Miles seemed more mutually ok with it this time but still!

And then there is bridge to turnabout with the whole Iris thing and also he thought Maya was dead for some time there and AHhh

This post has gone off track but like. ahhhh.

[circular-bircular]

Hi, sorry this is a big ask but what are your thoughts on this article?

https://powertotheplurals.com/why-the-theory-of-structural-dissociation-is-ableist/

We don't know enough to go through and say exactly that it's wrong but something feels wrong? Like that's not our experience being treated by someone who believes in the theory of structural dissociation.

Also this article was introduced to me as the argument against sysmeds but the theory of structural dissociation has grown since its creation and I can name two people who came up with theories that are the basis of modern psychiatry who should never practice.

Again though we don't really know enough to say any of that for certain and I hope we don't look silly.

Alright, let's start clearing out my drafts and inbox with this lovely ask!

I have been sitting on this ask for eons. I got it, wanted to work on it but died during the school year by way of teaching being hell, and then promptly forgot it existed. However, a thousand and one people have broken this article down for the sheer absurdity of how bad it is. Like, it's really bad.

This article is 1000% just fearmongering bullshit to steer people away from a very, very valuable theory. Anon, you do not need to feel the need to sway your opinions on the ToSD -- first and foremost, above all else, you determine what helps you the most and what theories benefit your system. Not anyone else's sayings.

But let's dig into it, shall we?

We start off with a huge image of a video about Otto Van Der Hart, author of The Haunted Self and a very instrumental psychologist in the understanding of DID. This is immediately followed by the following statement:

The above video was recently released after one of the authors of Structural Dissociation lost his license for life and can never practice again.

[VERY LOUD INCORRECT BUZZER]

He's not one of the authors of Structural Dissociation. He's one of the authors of The Haunted Self. He did not invent the theory; the Theory of Structural Dissociation was not the invention of The Haunted Self. The ToSD was the invention of many, many, many people working together to understand pieces of dissociation, and Van Der Hart, alongside Kathy Steele and Ellert R Nijenhuis, created The Haunted Self to publish a focused overview of everything related to it. To call him "one of the authors of the theory" is really discounting the fact that this theory is far more wide-reaching than just The Haunted Self.

But that's me being a little nitpicky.

Me being VERY nitpicky is their linked article immediately after this statement with the falsehood about how Final Fusion only works 12.8% of the time. This has been thoroughly debunked. Here's an example of a debunk! I'm incredibly frustrated to not even be able to get to the bulk of the article, simply because they're so insistent on plugging their own misinformation.

Then a link about Otto Van Der Hart losing his license... Then another link about it... Why is this necessary for "The ToSD is ableist"? Seems like you meant "Otto Van Der Hart is ableist" and your editors just got confused by the 4 letter word. Let's see, one last PTTP link... Okay, article time!

Anyone who has watched a DID youtube video, or read a few posts in a support group, has seen it pass by: The theory of Structural dissociation, written by Ellert Neijenhuis, Onno van der Hart, Suzette Boon and Kathy Steele. 

Very confused why you keep saying the ToSD was written by these people, but you continue on to acknowledge that the ToSD was not written solely by these individuals. This article feels disjointed as fuck and there's only actually been like... two paragraphs! How did you manage that?

It’s good to know that in 1987, the writers of this theory already referred to us as parts, not personalities or alters, as the common terms were back then. Now, you might think this was progressive, ahead of its time — but was it really? 

Yes. It was. As someone who is relieved to be seen as a part of a whole, rather than a distinct personality who is wildly out of control, I'm thrilled to see parts language in my history.

It was actually, psychologist and psychiatrist Charles Samual Myers, who in 1916 wrote about Apparently Normal Part (ANP) and Emotional Part (EP) after acute trauma in WW1. So it is fair to say that the theory of Structural dissociation borrowed these terms, not introduced them, as is readable in the haunted self. (page 4)

Yep. So why were you so insistent for so long that the authors of the Haunted Self "created" the theory when... you're literally acknowledging some of the history of the theory here?

Let's see... you then acknowledge another author who should also be credited as helping to create the ToSD, once again contradicting the start of your article...

It is also good to realize that the theory of Structural dissociation is neither about DID, nor is it about alters, as many of us Plurals know them. They speak of ‘dissociative parts of the personality’, caused by trauma. Nota bene, not early childhood trauma, trauma in general. As this theory of structural dissociation also explains single trauma, repeated trauma in adulthood and (early) childhood trauma. It is used to describe changes that are diagnosed as (c)PTSD, trauma related borderline personality disorder, DID and more.

Yeah, this part is true! The ToSD is not only about DID, or childhood trauma, or even repeated trauma. It's... about structural dissociation. It's in the name. Not sure why so many people are so confused about that.

As you can see in this image, all types of Structural dissociation have EP and ANP elements which Myers talked about.  In other words, the theory puts forward that all traumatized people have ‘dissociative parts of the personality’ as this is just the collective name for the EP and ANP. Thus, plurality does not just happen in DID, as many people with DID like to claim.

The theory of structural dissociation is not about plurality. You said it yourself that it is neither about DID nor about alters. It is about trauma causing dissociative parts of identity. All traumatized people have dissociative parts of identity, but that does not mean that all traumatized people are plural. Because that's what you're poking at by listing that as plurality.

These dissociative parts of identity are not necessarily fully formed parts. From every single person I've met with PTSD, their ANP/EP structure is nothing like mine -- not just in the fact that I've got more of that sort of thing, but in the fact that their ANP and EP don't have goddamn names. Their parts of self are not full identities that take over the body; they're states of mind.

Now, does that preclude someone from calling that plurality? No. People can call anything plural, if they feel that label fits. But to suggest, looking at these charts, that it is universally plurality -- that the existence of ANP/EPs is plural inherently -- is jumping the shark to the largest degree.

(Lastly, as a syscourse side note -- please stop conflating DID with Anti-Endo in your posts. "Many people with DID like to claim" just say anti-endos. Just say sysmeds, for fucks sake, I would prefer that to you making it about DID)

From which we can conclude that OSDD, complex PTSD, borderline personality disorder or extreme stress may also have alters as we Plurals know them, or at least as the ‘dissociative parts of the personality’, which this theory of structural dissociation calls us. – From a Plural perspective, I do not understand the differences, besides being integrated less in DID (or tertiary Structural dissociation) compared to more integrative capacity in secondary Structural dissociation of the personality. 

"I don't understand the differences, besides (lists the vital difference to why DID is called dissociative identity disorder)"

Also, not a single person was arguing that OSDD does not have alters. That is baffling to me why you included that on the list. Furthermore, yes, these could be plural -- but they are not alters similar to DID. There is a major difference there, in that in DID, the alters are fully developed identities, whereas in most cases of PTSD and borderline personality disorder, they aren't. But I will give you credit here -- this time, you said "MAY" also have alters. And yes, I would give you that credit -- some people with borderline personality disorder may see their splits as plural in some way.

But I have found, through talking to people with various trauma based disorders, that often, my alters are very different from their whatever they are experiencing. Because, once again, I am far more distinct. I've actually spoken once to a friend of mine with PTSD and OCD on this topic, because (due to her OCD), after meeting me, she believed she might be plural. It wasn't the case, but her states of being were distinct enough that she felt that way, however briefly. And then she stopped identifying that way, as it was harming her mentally to do so. While that is not the case for every individual who feels plural, it was the case for her. I don't want to look at PTSD and say, "This makes someone inherently plural," because it doesn't.

So, simply put, the ToSD is not about plurality. It is about dissociation of a single personality; not about multiple personalities. While the other disorders listed in the theory can be plural, they are not inherently so. (And this still has not explained why the author believes the ToSD to be ableist).

If DID is not Plurality, then why have such a thing as a DID diagnosis? What is the difference then between complex PTSD and DID, if not the Plurality? – More on this topic next time!

I've deliberated on this point for awhile (and I do NOT care to try to hunt down if PttP made good on their promise and made another article about this idea). I actually tried to discuss it in a server I'm in, which went a bit in a loop due to "plurality" being inherently seen as endogenic plurality (maybe I'll make a post about that sometime).

But leave it to my singlet partner to knock it out of the park, lol.

They brought up the fact that they have spiraling depression; depression that is worsened by other disorders they have, such as ADHD and anxiety. It just loops around continuously. Now, they could have a hypothetical diagnosis (just like C-PTSD would be, as that's not an actual diagnosis that exists) of "Spiraling Depression." But would that diagnosis be as informative as their multiple diagnosis of depression, anxiety, and ADHD?

By having the specific diagnosis they have, they're able to get more clarity on symptoms and understanding of what's happening. And I think that's a compelling argument for DID over C-PTSD in this case. Because, PttP, like it or not, plurality is disordered for many individuals. Even if the symptoms of DID and C-PTSD do overlap in many ways (and differ -- for instance, C-PTSD has far less correlation with dissociation and amnesia, and DID has far less correlation with emotional regulation problems and flashbacks to trauma), they overlap in such a way that it is important to be specific.

And yes, DID is specific in the fact that alters are part of it. No, DID is clearly not just plurality with C-PTSD, as you argue. There's a lot of different factors that differentiate the two disorders. But even with the large amount of overlap they can have (to the degree that the two are so highly comorbid that I see people argue you can't have DID without the other), the plurality is disabling for many individuals. And I say this as an individual who is not disabled by their plurality, and yet is diagnosed with DID.

The reason there's such a thing as a DID diagnosis is because having multiple, dissociative identities is disordered for many individuals. For me, I am disordered by my DID in the fact that I deal with severe amnesia that distresses me, as well as issues that correspond to C-PTSD. The treatment may be similar -- but if I were simply diagnosed with C-PTSD, I would not get the specific care I need, that being an assurance that my individual parts get the help they need. Which you, PttP, rally against later in this article (at the Systematic Approach to Dissociation section).

The haunted self states that Structural dissociation has become chronic in those patients with trauma-related disorders. (page 12.) Which, first and foremost, means that Structural dissociation is not a (trauma-related) disorder on it’s own, as some people claim these days. 

Accurate. It's a symptom, not a disorder. I believe what PttP is getting at here is the claim that dissociation is only a symptom of dissociative disorders; however, that's now what that sentence actually says, and it's incredibly frustrating to see this pair of sentences to try and make that claim. "The Haunted Self says that structural dissociation is chronic in patients with trauma-related disorders. This means that structural dissociation isn't a trauma-related disorder." Okay, yes, but that does not negate that it is talking about disorders, not plurality.

However, I point this quote out for a different reason. The theory of Structural dissociation idolizes integration. And although they say that ‘’no one has to go away’’, they also clearly explain to therapists, to not engage with us ‘dissociative parts of the personality,’ unless absolutely needed. Instead it is suggested that the therapist speaks whenever possible, through the ANP fronting. We the Plurals, then have the most integrative capacity, which basically means we can integrate the experience best. Which should be encouraged by the therapist at all times. I can understand how it is useful that ‘everyone’ listens in during therapy. But this should not be the case when we express ourselves!

And here we get to the bulk of the picture; PttP's hatred of anyone who so much as dares consider final fusion as an option for recovery.

First, let's correct a major misconception that I have had to correct timelessly in my time on systumblr. Integration is not final fusion. Integration is the lowering of dissociative barriers in order to communicate and function with your system as one whole; this could be through working together (functional multiplicity) or through fusing into one being (final fusion). And, as a few users in sysumblr have pointed out recently, these two things are not diametrically opposed. There's no hard and fast line between FM and FF. They're both just signs of recovery, and any recovery is beautiful. To shame anyone for going a specific route that makes them feel better is shameful in of itself, imo.

Second, let's tackle the image that PttP provides and show you why their quotes-out-of-context are complete bullshit.

"ALL interventions need to be geared toward increasing integration and decreasing dissociation" -- All treatment needs to be geared at helping alters connect with each other and decreasing memory barriers.

"Always use interventions at the highest level of integration possible, e.g., if the client can work with all parts, it is not necessary to work with parts individually" -- I can communicate with all of my parts. My therapist does not need to explain to each of my 14 parts the same exact thing each time they show up; he can work with me one week, and the next week, Curtis will remember what we discussed and can continue without my therapist needing to explain what we did last week -- I just make sure that Curtis is on the same page as me before that session.

"Use integrative language. 'Parts' language is OK, but emphasize 'Parts of you.' Parts should not be treated as individuals -- An individual as in someone who is not sharing a body. An individual as in someone who is a separate body not sharing it with 13 other people ffs. By focusing entirely on "You're an entirely different person," then it's going to be really hard to convince a patient in the throes of flashback, "I know YOU didn't experience that particular trauma, but that other person did, so now it's your problem to deal with" without reminding them that you are together in this one body. (Furthermore... This just straight up isn't as common in modern therapy, at least from what I've seen and experienced. I had to CONVINCE my therapist to stop fucking calling my parts "people" because it made me angry to be stuck in this body. Now I use parts language, and I'm not stuck in this body, I AM this body).

Lastly, I want to highlight: "Always be curious about what a part is unable to realize: this is the treatment target" -- this, to me, is so vital, and I feel like PttP skips over it. This is connected to the "highest part of integration" point; if a part isn't at the highest part of integration. If a part cannot realize something, it is up to the therapist to help them treat that. For instance, I just worked on EMDR yesterday with my therapist on realizing I am capable. Shockingly, about two EMDR sessions ago, Curtis did that same realization -- but as a part, I couldn't realize that myself. So my therapist had to work with me, as a part, directly.

So, to recap: this is all fairly standard, healthy guidelines for working with systems. Don't pit the parts against each other by implying they're all completely separate, work on communication and lowering barriers, and don't repeat yourself when you don't have to.

How's PttP feel about this?

"And although they say that ‘’no one has to go away’’, they also clearly explain to therapists, to not engage with us ‘dissociative parts of the personality,’ unless absolutely needed." Nope. I don't see that anywhere above. "Instead it is suggested that the therapist speaks whenever possible, through the ANP fronting." Also incorrect; nowhere in the above picture does it suggest that the therapist speak through the fronting ANP. That would certainly make my therapy difficult, given that we don't even have clear ANPs; my therapist just works with whoever is out. "We the Plurals, then have the most integrative capacity, which basically means we can integrate the experience best. Which should be encouraged by the therapist at all times. I can understand how it is useful that ‘everyone’ listens in during therapy. But this should not be the case when we express ourselves!" Wow, it sounds like whoever wrote this article feels very separated from their other parts. It sounds like the therapist will need to work at the highest level of integration possible, which is really low for your system. Your therapist would need to work with individual parts far more than mine would, because you don't have a high level of integration currently. Nowhere does it ever suggest that your ANPs need to be out for therapy. That's your jaded and biased view of a completely neutral statement.

To me, it sounds as if they want to make us all like OSDD, where one part regularly fronts and others speak through them. And although I think there is a dissociative spectrum, I do not think that changing the diagnostic criteria we meet from the diagnosis of DID to OSDD will lead to ‘healing.’ And in DID, in particular, requiring all communications to relay through one particular (perhaps malleable or favored) ‘alter’ that sounds a lot like silencing to me. Because the therapist (or any other outside person,) can never know (for sure) whether the part who is presenting, is truly conveying all information which is coming from inside. This book talks a lot about shame, but forgets that our ANPs might not feel comfortable repeating what those EPs just said inside, and that the information may be so overwhelming for them as to cause them to have intense dissociative symptoms. Half-truths might reach the therapist.

"They want to make us all like OSDD" -- not a thing. Stop fearmongering.

"Changing the diagnostic criteria we meet from the diagnosis of DID to OSDD" -- Part of the reason I am all for getting rid of both of those diagnosis and just changing it to CDD, so that people can't make this absolutely batshit argument.

"Relay through one particular (perhaps malleable or favored" alter" -- Already reviewed this, but jesus christ I hate that you just called them malleable. That is so horrifically ableist, to suggest that the fucking therapists -- people who are helping systems -- are just trying to manipulate an alter. Fuck that.

"The therapist can never know for sure whether the part who is presenting is truly conveying all information which is coming from inside" -- =_=.... "Hey, Wade, good to see you! So, what do you remember from last week?" "Wow, hey therapist, I am going to tell you the honest truth, I remember exactly jack shit." "Alright, so let's review-" It's as simple as that PttP. When we aren't able to communicate, we just... review. And if I decided to not be honest with my therapist... well that's just a fucking waste of three hours (two for driving, one for session) and money (gas and session cost).

The final few sentences is running with their misinterpretation of what the image was actually saying, so I'm not going to harp on that any longer.

The writers of this theory of structural dissociation explain dissociation as experiencing separation in simple terms and in more difficult terms use the meaning of the term dissociation, formulated by Pierre Janet (1859–1947), ‘’Structural dissociation is a particular organization in which different psychobiological subsystems of the personality are unduly rigid and closed to each other. These features lead to a lack of coherence and coordination within the survivor’s personality as a whole.’’ (Preface Haunted self) 

To translate that, for the layman: Structural dissociation is when parts of the personality are separate from each other, leading to a lack of consistency in a person's being. This can be represented as plurality (such as in CDDs) or as just inconsistent singular personality (such as in PTSD).

They explain integration as ice cubes melting and the water coming together, or dams breaking and water coming together. Which to them equals no one goes away. Everyone is still there, it’s just one body of water now.

Because they're singlets who don't get it. Rather than being a bitch about it, we could... explain in better terms, which so many fucking people have done. For instance, I use the puzzle piece metaphor for ourselves. We are each one puzzle piece; when we come together, you can still see the lines that show I'm a piece of the puzzle, but we are now together. But even if we use their metaphor... Nobody went away. The ice cube melted, but that doesn't mean you suddenly have less water. You're still there. Just together. By phrasing it as "going away" when fusion happens, you're purposefully fearmongering what actually happens in fusion; it's coming together, not someone going away.

To me, it sounds more like soup, because not everyone in a system is the same, like with water. So you throw in your EPs and ANPs (and those are very limited terms for our diversity!) and then you have a soup. Although soup is great, it is not the same as the loose ingredients. A potatoe is a potatoe. A carrot is a carrot. But potatoe-carrot soup is something new and different. You cannot remove the potatoe from the soup, it is no longer a whole potatoe. And potatoe-carrot soup cannot do the same things the original potatoes and carrots could do.

.... I will not lie, this confused the fuck out of me. Is this another analogy for integration? Very confused. Have fun though.

We know from a 6 year follow up study that only 12.8% of participants were able to reach integration as described in the theory of Structural dissociation. (page 4) That is a very low percentage. In any scientific research for medicine or therapy for example, a 12.8% positive outcome would not be tolerable. Yet the whole theory of treatment within Structural dissociation is based on it.

Once again, this was debunked (same link as above). Also, the ToSD isn't fucking based on fusion. It's based on structural dissociation. Yknow. As it says in the name. The therapeutic treatment is based on integrating past dissociation. Yknow. Integration. Not fusion.

A chronic disorder, often debilitating, with a much-respected and idolized healing option with only 12.8% success rate, sounds ableist to me

... how? Genuinely, how is it ableist? Ableism is discrimination against disabled people. How is... How is trying to help people with a disorder discrimination?

Favoring OSDD over DID comes from singular normative biased thinking

This just straight up isn't happening, you just read something in the worst faith possible and pissed on the poor because of it.

The haunted self has a chapter dedicated to phobia of dissociative parts. Maybe the writers, should re-read the chapter and apply it to their own way of thinking.

Oof ouch the edge. Anyways, now I want to read that chapter, I'm curious if they go into the shame around splitting in DID.

It also sounds to me, as if clinicians say something else to our face, then what they write in their books. Especially when it comes to alter integration or final fusion as Kluft calls it.

Integration and Fusion are not the same thing, and a clinician in 2019 (when this article was written) may not match the novel that was published in 2006, based on psychology from as early as 1916. It's almost like shit progresses and time keeps moving! Remarkable I know.

Although I do not think personalities is the right term for us, nor is the word parts. It is derogatory, dehumanizing & it is taking away from our autonomy, roles and authenticity as individuals.

[Stares in "I have never felt more alive, authentic, and real than when I was referred to as a part of a whole"]

[Stares in "I use it/its pronouns and this individual probably hates that huh, if they're so against dehumanization"]

[Stares in "Just tell your fucking therapist what goddamn language you prefer, because I had to do that too, you aren't fucking special"]

Anyways. Parts language is not universally derogatory, dehumanizing, or taking away your individuality. For me, it has been incredibly healing. Furthermore, it is genuinely what is happening from a medical standpoint. From a medical standpoint, splits in DID are occurring due to, you guessed it, trauma. You don't suddenly just... get possessed or mitosis a new person in your brain who is entirely separate from you. The parts of you are parts of you, regardless of how you label them, because you are composed in one body. If we get into possession and endogenesis, then remarkably, the ToSD does not apply, because the ToSD is strictly about structural dissociation. Not plurality.

And so I often wonder whether the alter integration they desire, equals just not being Plural anymore in the minds of the writers of Structural dissociation. If it does, it makes sense to diminish us to parts. And it also makes sense to claim “no one has to go away”, if they never believed we are separated in the first place. After all, it is the ‘experience of separation’, not actual separation, as they say, we did not split off. So was using the term ‘parts’ in 1987 progressive, or a step to further diminish, gaslight and silence us?

If you wonder about this often, you need to step the fuck away from system spaces and touch some grass.

Integration is not fusion, I cannot stress this enough.

Fusion does not equal no longer being plural; ask any fused system (or hell, just a fused part) and they will tell you, flat out, "I'm still us, just different." If someone no longer wants to identify as plural due to fusion, is that not their choice? Why would you care about someone else's experience that much?

Being parts is not diminishing anything, as someone who uses parts language.

If we are multiple parts, and the ToSD acknowledges us as multiple parts, then clearly the ToSD acknowledges we are separate. The goal of the theraputical practices that revolve around the ToSD is to help lessen the separation between parts. Not remove us entirely. Still not sure where you got that idea from, other than your fearmongering about Fusion.

Using parts language was literally just people looking at MPD systems and going, "Huh... you know, maybe that is a single person and not multiple people crammed into one body. Maybe that is just a severely traumatized individual, and we should treat them as a person, same as anyone else."

Or maybe they were all high on cocaine. That's possible too.

Here is my problem with how the DID community treats this theory. From the community feedback it seems that many of you do not want integration, as explained in this theory. And you cannot cherry-pick the sweet parts, when it comes to theories like this. Especially not when integration is so interwoven with this theory. The theory of Structural dissociation is often presented as truth in our communities, even though this theory is not widely accepted, not acknowledged, not proven (or provable) and hence just a theory like any other  – there are many theories about DID. 

Obligatory "integration and fusion are not the same." Furthermore, this idea is based on community feedback in 2019. I can't wait for 2029, when things will be completely different once again. Lastly, the theory is widely accepted. It is the most accepted theory of how dissociation works structurally that we have. While there are other theories about DID, I have not seen any of them that better describe my experiences or make as much sense. (And, unsurprisingly, you don't add any of those alternative theories here).

You also cannot say you like the application of this theory for DID, but not for borderline and vice versa. The theory comes as a package deal by explaining a progression of Structural dissociation. I think many people did not read all of the haunted self, as it’s long and dry. And even though most quotes from this article come from the first few pages, it is information many do not know. I read the book twice and followed a conference with its writers. I hope this article explains things, to those who endorse this theory without having actually read it. There are many more questionable things about this, but I cannot address them all.

This article only explained your personal vendetta against fusion and parts language, and your lack of ability to comprehend a percentage point. It did nothing to further the understanding of plurality, as the ToSD is not about plurality, and it didn't even explain why the ToSD is ableist. Nowhere have you explained how the ToSD itself is discriminating against disordered/disabled individuals. You just threw the word out, primarily while focusing on the therapeutic practices that utilize the ToSD. Even if we came to an agreement that the practices that utilize the theory are ableist, that does not make the theory itself ableist. Good grief.

Obviously it is not needed to throw away the baby with the bath water either, that is not what I am proposing. What I am proposing though, is that you take a second look at the theory you endorse and why.

I endorse it because it is the clearest understanding of structural dissociation I have found, and it helps me to conceptualize myself as multiple parts within one whole. If that doesn't work for you, congrats, the theory doth not apply. You can find therapists who don't agree with it and who will work with you directly without the ToSD.

But to say it is ableist because it doesn't fit your particular framework is prideful at best and fearmongering at worst.

Because if you just like the part about how we are not split off, but born with different self-states you can quote Putnam. And if you like the idea of PTSD consisting of EPs and ANPs, you can quote Myers. And if you like fusion integration, you can quote theory of Structural dissociation.

Nowhere in the theory of structural dissociation does it suggest you need to fuse. Nowhere in the Haunted Self does it suggest you need to fuse. Nowhere in modern therapeutic best practices does it suggest you need to fuse. You are simply trying to scare people, at this point.

That's... about it for the article. It is horrific from everything I was seeing, and I cannot even begin to process the lack of context. I think it's because, as Stronghold says in the comments, this article was based on a conference they attended. They attended a conference where people discussed the ToSD.

Would it not be better to say, then, that the conference is ableist?

But that wouldn't really draw in a big crowd, would it? Not as many clicks or views. Why not challenge the entire theory? That would get a lot more views. A lot more clicks and attention. Isn't that the point of articles like these? To be seen and viewed?

I implore everyone to remember that this was an opinion article. It is not based on fact; it is based on the authors own bias. This is Stronghold's personal feelings about the ToSD, based on their personal interpretation of the ToSD, based on their personal beliefs on fusion. They try to use quotes to back up their claims, but their claims are entirely based on opinion.

So, to counteract that: From my opinion, the ToSD is not ableist, and while ableists have used it in the past to hurt others, that does not make the theory itself bad. The theory is incredibly useful, and everyone who struggles with dissociation or trauma disorders should do a bit of research into it to see if the framework works for them.

FURTHER READING:

Syscurse posted this link to the System Speak podcast debunking this article. A good podcast overall!

Here's a PDF link to the Haunted Self. I never actually read the whole thing before, so I'm happy to have found a PDF online of it. Cannot vet if that's a good link or not, but I'm moving pretty fast now that this thing is around 5k words.

A debunk of this article from SysmedsareSexist, which, funny enough, I did not read before writing this big long post.

Hiiragi and SoaF's comments about parts language in the article, and a very good reminder that we should critique how science looks at disorders, and discuss potential ableist views -- I don't disagree with that at all. It IS possible that the reason parts language is used is meant in a dehumanizing manner -- but I also think it's good to dig into those ideas and figure out why we feel that way, and what evidence there actually is for it (rather than misinformation about fusion being used as a major basis for the argument).

And honestly, just make sure to look up information on therapeutic practices and the ToSD folks!

[credince--writes]

Jitters, Chapter 1 (Remastered)

Chapter One: Security Protocol

Jitters is a PMC brought onto the support 141 operations, much to the distaste of the 141 group of PMC's.

The Remastered version of the original Jitters.

A/N:

Welcome to the rewrite guys! I actually will have my shit together this time, so that means tag lists will be happening! Lmk if you wanna be on it *as I sensually waggle my eyebrows at you*

This wasn't the first time she was sent out to a base.

This was probably the third, actually.

Laswell would send her where she was needed, so a lot of the time she found herself drifting around. She'd be stationed somewhere, finish up the needed task, and then run back to Laswell like a lap dog waiting to go fetch the ball again.

It sucked,

but so would sitting in a jail cell, so this would have to do.

The particular team she was stationed with was once again some kind of special force needing someone behind a screen that knew what they were doing, mainly to route them through a complex series of tunnels while avoiding security systems. Shutting off power when necessary.

Teaming up with some British team, she couldn't exactly remember the name she was too busy directing Sergeant Dumbass through a tunnel.

"You're going to have a series of laser security systems roughly twenty feet in front of you. Big red door next to it. Don't pass it until I give you the clear." Jitters spoke into her microphone.

"How the hell do you know it's red?" There was a gruffness to his voice, there always was whenever she spoke to the special forces guys- always a bit of a ruggedness at the edge of their voice as they’d trudge through shitty abandoned building after the next. She supposed after long enough they were in it for the thrill- when the glamorized ‘saving the world’ complex wore off. Hunting for adrenaline, pushing until the blood pounding in your ears gave the high they were searching for. 

"I'm looking at you. I can see your bald spot." She responded, sighing after the mic cut off and leaning back in her chair.

It was as if they’d never really believe her- as she watched overhead. Either from their trackers or through the cameras scattered throughout a building. 

The man she was observing through the screen turned around to face the camera and flipped it off before following his directed path.

"Alright... Hang tight for a moment please." She says, tapping into a separate comm unit.

"Miles this is Jitters, what is the status?"

"Dealing with some issues." His voice calmly- too calmly replied. The kind of shutoff you layer over when something is going wrong and before everything goes to shit.

"What kind of issues?" She cranes her neck over, glancing at the wall that separated the two of them. Her eyes narrowed on the concrete as if she were ready to melt through it-

But it was always like this, and even though she was confident that it would be resolved, that everything would be ok in the end. The tremor in her hands always found itself present, the jittering of her fingers on the keyboard as the anxiety and adrenaline started flowing.

She could never understand why people would seek it- the feeling of adrenaline in their veins.

"They're being resolved don't worry about it." His clipped voice spoke again.

"Miles I have three minutes before I lose stability on my end. Whatever issues you're running into need to be resolved fast."

There was silence on the other end.

It always died into silence.

…

That wasn't the last time Miles had become a major threat to the welfare of a mission, that and pain in her ass. It wasn't that he was totally incompetent- just enough that he was constantly putting teams in danger. A combination of spite and pride. Something she was familiar with, as much as she’d stuff it deep down and ignore it.

Constantly putting people in danger, either because he was still too bull-headed to accept help when she was trying to give it or was trying to prove himself in some respect.

That was until the current team they were assisting left, leaving the two of them with the base squad while another task force was brought in.

It was always some kind of task force- special operations unit, reacted names, and masked faces.

She had heard in rumors around the base that this Task Force- 141 is what it was called was something different. She was never given any real background on the teams, or redacted information but enough to get by to understand the premise of the operations. They were put on the real dirty jobs. The things that needed to be kept quiet.

Things she always ended up in her lap.

She was disposable- not that Laswell would ever explicitly say it.

She’d never be a liability because she no longer had the same ‘free will’ another had. 

There was no going home,

Only the next mission.

The next dirty job.

She realized this when she was put into a separate briefing room from the rest of the squad she was stationed with. She was going to know more sensitive information, her and Miles, that is.

It was a pretty simple mission, but from what she understood very bloody on one end. It was infiltrating an enemy base, force, or stealth.

Whatever was necessary.

The day 141 arrived she was sitting on a crate fidgeting with one of the radios a private had brought up to her needing to be fixed. The pleading looks on his face to keep it quiet before his Sergeant found out and ripped him a new one. She didn't know what was up with them, but they seemed absolutely prone to breaking things in the most moronic ways. Made sense though, she saw a group of them dragging a fellow private around the warehouse floor as a mop.

The sound of a helicopter landing could be heard in closer proximity than normal, and the rolling doors opened to reveal the awaiting squad.

One thing Jitters always found amusing was the strange choices of hair, facial hair, or not that the men in the military would choose. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Miles approach, his chest puffed out in an attempt to stand taller as he approached her.

"I want Skull." He said.

She quirked a brow. "Bet he'll chew you up n' spit you out." She responded.

"Masked ones are always important." He responded. "You can take whatever team the skull guy isn't on."

"Hm." Leaning back and resting her hand against the crate trying to push down the dread that always seemed to rise up in her throat like bile when a new mission was presented. They were definitely observant, they had to be or they would be dead. Scanning and surveying the room. She watched as a grown-ass man with a mohawk stared at the two of them.

She matched his gaze, returning his intensity before he blinked and looked away. Miles had already left her side, walking to the debriefing room where the new arrivals were headed too. She sighed and stood up, following Miles to the room where the men had already gathered and seated around the table. Peeking her head in after Miles, she stepped in.

"Right on time you too." She heard Lt. Gulch say, he was heading the front of the table. Getting ready to explain new developments that had occurred in the last hour or so- papers scattered below on the table. Manila folders and ramblings in his oh-so-familiar chicken scratch tacked to the walls.

Jitters settled at the back of the table, sitting next to a man with a unibrow of a mustache on his face while Miles scurried over to sit in the general proximity of the masked giant at the table. There was a tension within the room- which was to be expected. The task forces were one and the same, usually tight-knit groups of men who would rather die than put their lives in the hands of someone they weren’t familiar with- someone they didn’t know they could trust.

Gulch began to lecture on about developments, explaining that the team would be split into two. One going from under, another storming in from the top of the building to sandwich in the center, then moving on to secure multiple other locations. Usual clearing tactics, no NVG, quick and dirty if need be, but keep it as clean as possible in respect to making cleanup easier. The navigation of the building would be difficult- security constantly changing but a recent finding of a lack of protection in their digital space provides an opportunity for them to breach.

"Which is why we have these two here today, one will be assigned to each of your teams. I'll allow you to choose as they will be a part of your respective teams for the next week." Gulch continued.

She always dreaded this part.

Introductions.

As if they really cared about who they were, and what they really did. Moreso once they understood what she was, her presence here.

Not that they’d ever question it, it seemed that all of them were connected one way or another to Laswell, and with her ‘stamp’ of approval, or ownership they wouldn’t ask many more questions.

Miles stood up, introducing his name and rank, and then sat down.

Jitters looked at him, then looked around the room not bothering to stand up. Avoiding every contact and trying to keep her voice even level. Not to stand and show the shake of her hands and the anxiety that these introductions always brought her.  "They call me Jitters."

There were a few questionable glances given in response. Mustache piping up from next to her. "What about your Name & Rank?"

Gulch piped in. "Classified, and Jitters is a PMC sent in specifically for this assignment."

She watched as Mowhawk sat back in his chair and grumbled something to Skullface. Before he piped up. "Why is there a PMC on this job, do we not have techs?"

"Laswell had her sent in specifically, I'm under higher orders from General Spots, and advisement of Laswell. Which I don't plan on ignoring, is that a problem MacTavish?"

Mowhawk MacTavish sighed, and sat back. "No. Ghost and I will take Miles then."

Skullface nodded.

Apparently, his name was Ghost.

Mustache nodded, "Alright then. Jitters." He said with a little bit of hesitancy. "You, Gaz, and I will be the second team infiltrating from the top of the building once our first steps are secured."

She gave him a nod. "Is this still a pack & pull operation? Two, one, and gather?" She asked to the inhabitants of the room.

"Yes," Gulch started. "Team two will be in the field for two days while Team one remains in the field for one, returns to drop off, then stays until Team one meets back. Both teams will then follow to finish in one day- or however long it takes to fulfill the remaining objectives."

Jitters leaned back in her seat. "Are they aware of how it's going to work?" She nods her head back to the man behind her.

Gulch shrugs a little. "Was hoping you could explain, you start losing me when you're going on about satellites."

“Well-” She opened her mouth to speak.

"I can." Miles volunteers, standing up, cutting her off with the ever-present smirk on his lips.

"We are going to be equipping you all with specialized comms' routed through one of our satellites for this mission. We will be able to remotely access cameras throughout your route and give information as needed. Once you reach your target point, question and deal with the target then we will work on acquiring intel in either of these two points." He points behind him at the map. "Once the initial is finished, your teams will separate once more to finish out delegated tasks. The comm. systems are separated to further security, so all traffic will need to be routed through us."

"Why will our comms be separated?" Gaz asks.

"Well…" Miles pauses, faltering for a moment to gather his words.

Skullface scoffs.

She could see the embarrassment burn knot Miles face, hands clenching together at his sides.

"It's in case one of you is KIA, or have your communications compromised. Doesn't compromise both groups, keeps it segregated into one team." Jitters bumps in, shooting a side glance to Miles as his head snapped over to glare. "Miles also forgot to mention the lockout segments of the map where no one will be able to get any communications out. From what we know they lined these segments well enough to half any communication traffic through their walls. You'll all have to resort to more unique means of keeping the communication line open."

"Enlighten us." Ghost said, crossing his arms.

"One of each of your team is going to have to secure access to the vent system once you gain access to the fortified rooms. Your partner will be able to hear you through the vent, and the partner inside the vent will be able to further communicate."

"I won't fit in a vent," MacTavish says matter-of-factly.

"I'm sure you'll manage." Gaz replied.

The door opened, and one of the other Luitenants’ heads popped in "Jitters, you're needed immediately." There was that tone of urgency- not one of dire the world is going to end. 

No, that was usually the pre-mission ass-chewing.

Gulch shot a glare. "What is it?"

"Laswell is on the line right now." They responded.

"God Damn it." Jitters groaned. Standing up and turning "Yea, Yea, I'll be there in a second. Miles finish where I left off and don't forget half."

He glared in response.

...

Had the call been important? Not really. It was more as if her mother had called to give her a preliminary chewing out before she was sent off to summer camp. Finishing off the call with "Don't let anything get in the way of this mission."

"Yes, Ma'am."

Walking out of the private room she was pulled into the take the call with Laswell, mind running through the different scenarios of things going wrong and how to fix them all before they actually happened. Taking a stride down the hallway as something bumped into her shoulder. Looking over she was met at an equal height with Miles.

"Don't. Ever." He pushed her shoulder against the wall and leaned up to her, "Pull what shit again in a meeting again." She could feel the heat of his breath on her skin, the venom that dripped out of his words, and the anger that flashed in his eyes when he spoke. She almost wanted to laugh- him making a fool of himself in the briefing and acting big and strong and smart. Only for it to blow back up in his face.

Did she need to call him out in the meeting in the way she did?

No.

Did she do it anyways?

Of course. 

"Kids. What the fuck are you doing?" They heard Gulch's voice.

"Nothing Luitenant." Miles answers quickly, before leaving.

"Captain Price and I would like a word," Gulch says nodding his head over to a door, before leading her and Price into the same meeting room as before.

"I need to know that you'll have our backs." Price says, tilting his head down to match her gaze. "We've had a... Bad track record with PMCs." There was a graveness to his tone- one that didn’t feel fabricated in the way the Captains and Luitenants and Seargants would always create to seem more serious. To try and scare someone into submission. But it felt real- a layer of pain beneath the surface of the simple words ‘bad track record’. 

There was a history behind them, and it put her on edge.

It was already a losing battle gaining their trust for a short mission, but to already be put so far behind and to have this layered on top of it would spell disaster for the operation as a whole. It made dread crawl up her throat, fingers digging small crescents into her palms before sucking in a breath and leaving her tone out to portray confidence.

She shrugs. "I don't think Laswell would've sent me here if I wasn't going to cover you. I was briefed on the mission before you came here, when it was still supposed to be in the Nordics."

"How do you know Laswell?" Price asks.

Jitters looks to Gulch, nearly desperate to explain why, who shrugs in response.

Asshole.

She couldn’t- wouldn’t lay it all out on the table. It would be stupid to, and he had no reason to know, no right. It wasn’t his place, Captain or not. Even so, she could feel the cocky energy radiating off of Miles hoping to watch her stutter, to watch her fail and prove she wouldn’t be reliable for the mission.

She was sure he wanted her pulled from it.

Fake it til you make it, isn’t that what they say?

"I'm who Laswell sends out when things need to be done right… if that makes any sense." Jitters replies simply. Maybe it was a mild middle finger to Miles, who always seemed to find a hiccup and magnify it until it nearly ruined an op- but it was who she was.

She was sent to these jobs.

She read the redacted paperwork.

And she worked in the background, trudging behind a soldier to download files in the field or to hide behind a screen and direct.

Price nods. "Perfect. See you in the morning."

"Yea..." She says, watching everyone file out, leaving her in the empty room.

..

Waking up bright and early- it couldn't even be called that. It was nighttime. Dark. And fucking cold. That's what it was. Waking up dark and cold.

Jitters grumbled to herself, pulling on her clothes for the day and picking up two gadgets off of her work table, and making her way outside.

"Good to see you're finally up." She heard Miles say from the side of her as she walked into the warehouse where the men were suiting up.

She walked up to Gaz and Price who were prepping their weapons and gear. "Come here please." She says, rubbing her eyes.

"What's up?" Gaz asks.

Jitters reaches into her pocket and pulls out two small button-like forms. "These are vibrators- God." She groans, face heating up at the statement and realizing once the words left her mouth what a shitty idea naming them was. "Not like that though, here." She quickly adds, seeing the twitch upward in the two men’s lips. She reaches out and grabs Gaz's hand, pulling him a little closer to her. Grabbing his glove and sliding it into the center of his wrist.

"If you're in a situation that you can't verbally respond, you buzz me. I'll be asking yes and no questions. Two for no and three for yes." She explains, handing the other to Price before looking at her watch. "Example." She taps on her wrist twice, and the two men look down at the feeling of the little machine buzzing on the top of their wrists.

"I'll be asking you something along the lines of checkpoint reached. I know this is going to be a stealth operation so minimizing any potential faults in your navigation is at the height of my priority."

"Thanks, neva' had something like this before." Gaz says.

Price nods, "We will establish a connection when we reach point A."

Jitters nodded, "Copy that."

Once she had finished with Price & Gaz, she’d hung back for a moment to watch Miles sputter and suck up to the two other men. It was almost comedic- watching him try and flex his theoretical muscles of technical operations as if they really cared. "You got some brown on your nose." She comments to him.

"Fuck you." 

....

After the connections were established, the teams had moved out. From what she gathered Miles was having to deal with all of the feedback from water sloshing in the comms.

Have fun with that, you prick.

Advancements on her end were made quickly and methodically, leading the team through their routes with limited enemy casualties to maintain the stealth the mission required.

Soon enough the garble could be heard over the comms.

"Entering blackout area, be advised. Notify when placement is established overhead."

She waited.

And waited.

In reality, it was only a few minutes before she felt three buzzes on her wrist.

"Establish a connection, notify when established."

Soon enough, three buzzes were felt again on her arm.

"Maintain your location until advised. Waiting for the crash."

One,

 Two,

 Three.

Yes.

She stood up, looking over to Miles who was frantically typing. Why was he typing? Had they already trigged a security protocol in the building? How hard was it for him not to fuck something up- for once, one time, she begged in her own mind. Just once, for everything to go smoothly.

Maybe when hell froze over.

"Miles I need an ETA."

"Dealing with complications." He mutters out.

She almost wanted to sneer back ‘all you have is complications’, but she held it back. For now.

"Miles I have limited time, sort your shit out, and do it quick."

"Location compromised," Miles yelled out, throwing his back against his chair and tossing his hands into his hair, and groaning, quickly slouching back forward to continue back on working on whatever he was frantically typing for.

"Fuck." Jitters whisper yelled. Rushing back to her desk she established a connection with Price and Gaz. "Changing plans, begin upload procedures now. You'll be seeing friends in less than five."

One,

 Two,

Three.

Leaving her desk, but keeping the earpiece for her team in her ear she marched over to Miles. "Tell me what's happening."

"Triggered security protocol Alpha-3."

Her gaze hardened on him. "You're shitting me."

"No!" He whisper yelled back, trying to keep his voice quiet, even though it wasn’t calm by any means. “Why would I be shitting about that?”

"We need our eyes here Miles." She could hear the voice of Mactavish through his earpiece.

"How could you of fucked it that bad?" She asked, hand reaching up and gripping onto his chair, leaning over to take a look at his screen.

"Shut up!" Miles snapped back at her.

That horrible feeling crawled up her spine, the feeling of it like the legs of a spider creeping up to her neck. If neither of them did anything, if Miles didn’t do anything and quickly the entire operation would be a bust and not only would the current operatives in the building be in danger, but more importantly- at least to Jitters- the mission would be a failure.

And Laswell meant what she said on the call.

"Don't let anything get in the way of this mission."

Her arm reached out, grabbing Miles shoulder and pushing on it, trying to get him out of the seat while she pushed forward trying to slot her hips into the chair. "Move." 

"What?" He asked, eyebrows raising as if he didn’t hear her the first time, as if her words weren't clear enough. His body pushed forward and he leaned back against it, fighting the of her hand against his shoulder by simply leaning into it and ignoring it. 

"You heard me. Move." She urged again.

"Miles!" MacTavish emphasizes in his comm.

"Fuckin', move." Jitters removed her hand, sidestepping behind the chair and pushing his back forward while pulling his chair out simultaneously, his body lurhcing forward then leaning back to no longer be met with the chair, flat backing onto the floor as she quickly slid into the seat. Arms stretched out and tapping a few letters on the keyboard.

"What the fuck is going on over there." Ghost hisses through the comm.

"There is a room 200 feet to your left. It will be next to the main line in the underground system. Get there now." Jitters orders.

"What?" Mactavish asks.

"Move your ass. Now!" She all but yells into the microphone.

"Jitters how copy?" She can hear Gaz ask.

"Hold." She says, merging the two communications teams together.

"Sounded like you were fighting back there." Gaz comments.

"I was. connection established- both ends. Can you hear us?" She asks.

"Affirmative." The four men all but say in unison.

"Security protocol Alpha-3 has been activated, meaning I am going to need some coordination on both sides. Gaz I need you to slide back to where you were a bit ago- the panel with the blue lights."

"Copy."

"Price you'll need to take that cord you've got plugged into the system and remove it, ignore the lost progress it doesn't matter what matters is making sure this isn't fucked."

"Copy."

"Ghost I need you to cover while Mac' opens up the panel that should be next to the outgoing pipe. That is a centralized break. One of them should be labeled with a XX83. When I say, flip it and get ready for it to go dark. You'll need to use your night vision to move through the rest of your trajectory. We are trying to make this look like a simple malfunction in the security system. A glitch."

"In the location" Gaz affirms.

"Gaz remember those two wires I just had you cut?"

"Yes."

"I need you to cut the third to the right- white with writing on it. And You're gonna need to stick the two hot ends together. it's gonna make a light show so don't stick your head in there. Notify when complete."

She waited a few moments, nearly feeling the cold sweat collecting on her neck. The feeling of adrenaline, of anxiety creeping up and making her ears feel hot. Feeling her pulse in her fingers as her hands moved furiously to input information as needed to make sure that the mission was not compromised.

"We have inbound security patrol." Ghost replies.

"Copy. Standby." She replies.

"It's complete," Gaz Responds, a slight crackling in the background of his comms. "You were right, made a hell of a show."

"Flip it now MacTavish."

"Copy."

"Lights will be down for roughly 45 seconds. You need to move now you too. Price, plug in now."

"Copy."

"Established."

"Alright, the security system is resetting. Clear, for now, finish that download and get the fuck out of there."

She leans back in her seat, glancing over to meet the glare of Miles. Disconnecting the Coms from each other she shot him a glance. "You want your job back? Or are you gonna fuck it up again?" She sneers.

"Get out of my chair." He grits out, jaw tense as he stands.

She pulls his earpiece from her head, tossing it at him and standing. No so gently tossing his chair to the side and listening to it clatter on the ground as she makes her way back to her chair.

"Fine by me, this chair smells like shit anyways."

[sortasirius]

"Ghost of a Second Chance" and the Haunting of Eddie Diaz

Okay I finally have some semblance of cohesive thoughts on this episode, so here goes.

Long ass post below:

First of all, the stalker/kidnapping situation was, in fact, harrowing. 911 always knows how to pull off a good twist, I had no inkling that she HADN'T been kidnapped by her husband until Athena figured it out.

The theme of this whole post is, essentially, that I love the way 911 handles past trauma. It's messy and difficult and often not a linear path to healing. We see that with Maddie and with Eddie in this episode in particular, with foreshadowing for Bobby as well.

Sorry I just love seeing them work a call, like these are my emotional support firefighters <3

I'm also loving this arc with Hen and Karen, they're such good parents and are fighting so hard for Mara. And to have Denny be the one she talks to first? To have him be the one that she opens up to? They've raised him so so so well.

Chris is the best and I love him.

And so...Eddie.

"Not too late. We can turn around and leave her now."

Yeah alright, throwaway line meant to be a joke. Sure. But we really don't know Marisol like that. We haven't spent enough time with her to know that he doesn't actually feel this way. Hell, the last time we had a scene with her he was asking her to move out and grinning from ear to ear when she agreed. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to understand that...he's just not that into her.

And here we are, with Chris and Marisol walking ahead of him, and Eddie looking into a store to see Shannon's literal doppleganger folding some shirts.

Immediately, we get scenes of them together. Laughing, kissing, looking at one another, but there are a few things that I find interesting here, first and foremost how these shots are colored.

They're washed out, not fully black and white, but sort of greyscale. I saw someone else talk about how they're colored this way because Eddie doesn't remember them clearly anymore, and I have latched onto this, it makes perfect sense.

I do think part of him is terrified of losing these memories, clinging to them in a way, and seeing this woman in the store sort of brought them all to the surface, giving him something to almost cling to.

"You okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Yeah haha, just saw the double of my dead wife in the store, no biggie.

I have to laugh.

When Maddie realizes that Catherine never told her that she was with her husband, you can really tell that this call is dragging up a lot for her, which goes back to my point on how well this show portrays non-linear healing. Even though she left Doug in the woods and moved on with her life, even though she has Jee and fought her PPD and won, even though she's married to Chimney, a part of her will always look over her shoulder expecting to see him there. She's come such a long way, but trauma like that doesn't just go away, it's something that she'll battle forever.

I'm also loving the look into the broken foster system for Hen and Karen. They want to do right by Mara, but how can they when they're not given all the information, when they weren't told about Tyson because Deirdre wasn't allowed to tell them?

I loved Amir's scene with Maddie and I'm DEPRESSED that he's going to try and kill the love of my life Bobby.

Eddie just LURKING outside this store to see mirror Shannon...boy...

Sorry but the "do you trust me?" YOU'RE SELLING HIM A CANDLE GIRL HE DOESN'T KNOW YOU.

"Well then you have no reason not to trust me." Spoken like a true serial killer lmfao.

Unfortunately Eddie Diaz is in the depths of delusion and this corny line worked on him.

You have to admit it is so fucking funny that he's on the brink of cheating with a sales associate trying to sell him an ugly ass keychain who looks like his dead wife who asked him for a divorce approximately 37 seconds before she died. Like that is peak comedy and I won't pretend otherwise.

"It's me, your husband?" Chim I know you say this to Maddie 400 times a day and I love you for it.

"Tell me about the woman in the passenger seat of that car."

He's so open with her, so unafraid to see her as she is, the good and the scary, and he loves her anyway, just as she loves him. Sorry I'm just emo about them.

I genuinely could not tell the difference between blonde Shannon and bangs Shannon. I had a meltdown through that entire scene thinking that he was fucking Kim. But it's fine because he was just fantasizing about fucking his dead wife while carrying a conversation with his girlfriend.

Eddie Diaz let me study you.

I find this idea so fascinating, the way he’s clearly looking at their relationship with rose colored glasses, how he remembers the positives only, not the fights, not the arguments, not the fact that he ran away from her twice when he enlisted in the army. He only remembers the good sex, the smiles, the laughter, even though that was a tiny part of their relationship, nearly negligible at times.

This isn’t the first time Eddie’s done this either, he’s talked before about how their relationship was “magic” when it definitely wasn’t.

Overall, I find this a really interesting look into grief, into how we remember the best parts of people we loved, how we can be so willing to forget the things that didn’t work, the anger and the fights.

Eddie has never really dealt with Shannon's death, he’s pushed it to the side for Chris, keeps going even when he feels like he’s going to break apart. And now it seems like it's finally caught up with him, like meeting Kim tore it all open again, and he's haunted by Shannon again, by his guilt for how it ended and what he wished he had done differently.

OBSESSED with Buck tackling this guy like yes himbo king use those football skills.

AND Dad reflexes Chim I truly am living.

I feel like Vincent has no idea that she brought Tyson to see Mara, and I feel like that will come back into play later.

Domestic Buddie and Chris scene <3

Look not to be a total shill for Buddie (who am I kidding we all know what I am) but there's something so...weirdly intimate about Eddie just knowing their pizza order. And it's their order, not just Buck's, like Eddie would be joining them if he wasn't meeting "Marisol."

They are seriously family shaped and I love them.

Jee and Chim and Maddie GOD I LOVE THEM SO MUCH

Now, for the elephant in the room: Kim and Eddie going on a date behind Marisol (and Buck’s) back. Look, I know I’m in the vast, vast minority here, but I don’t hate a cheating arc in fiction. It happens in life, more often than most people want to think about, and it makes for an interesting storyline. But at this point, Eddie hasn’t really cheated (even thought I was CONVINCED he had with that flashback lmao). He’s toeing a dangerous line, yeah, but having dinner with Kim isn’t inherently cheating, even though he is lying to Buck and his real actual girlfriend.

It’s fascinating to see him be okay with this but his “catholic guilt” stands in the way of him having sex with his girlfriend because she was a nun once. I think him seeing Kim like this really hammers home the point that he doesn’t even really like Marisol. He’s certainly not committed to her in any meaningful way, or he wouldn’t be entertaining Kim.

And let’s not forget, he’s lying to Kim too! He told her he was single and he’s not!

Kim isn’t Shannon, she will never be able to fill that void that Eddie is still desperately searching to fill, because no one can fill that void, not even Shannon.

The theme of the episode is, in its way, stalking. The overall plotline of Kyle stalking and kidnapping women, Eddie sort of following Kim around, even Karen making that offhanded comment that she felt like a stalker. But it feels like Eddie's guilt and unprocessed grief over his relationship with Shannon is stalking him in a way. He believes that their relationship was perfect, that if he could just find the right woman, everything would be fixed, he wouldn't have to grieve her anymore. But that's just not how things work, and I don't believe that there is any woman, not even Shannon herself, that could fit on the pedestal that Eddie has created for her.

The way that Shannon has kind of haunted Eddie's narrative from the moment she died, how she looms over every relationship he has... he's always chasing her memory, but not her true memory, he's chasing the memory that he's creating for himself. The beautiful one where they never fought, he never ran, she never left. But that memory doesn't exist, and it never has.

Eddie is looking for something that he’ll never be able to find. He’s looking for a woman that can be the mother that Shannon was to Chris, but with a partnership that doesn’t make him want to run away…or panic…or cheat.

Where is he going to find that? I think we all know he’s already found it, just not with a woman.

I’ll be so interested to see what this turns into. I love the idea that Buck or one of the others meets Kim and she looks nothing like Shannon to them, because it would be so unsettling for everyone to basically be like “what are you seeing in this random woman that makes you think of your dead wife?” What’s the fallout going to be? Eddie is obviously not well, he’s spiraling and will likely hide it from everyone, just like he tried to hide his struggles with PTSD from everyone as well.

He’s such a fascinating character, and I think the way the writers are bringing up this catholic guilt storyline now could be really compelling if it leads to a larger realization. Marisol is a red herring, we don’t even care enough about her to learn her last name, but she’s a catalyst for Eddie’s guilt at being with someone that brings up his feelings about religion, about what’s “right” and “wrong." And I feel like this could lead to a larger realization.

Maybe even about the man who is more of his partner and parent to his son than any of his girlfriends have been.

[luvistqrzzz]

･˳ . ⋆ these days i am taken back to the summer we loved

loving you losing you- jay one shot

pairing- jay x f.reader

summary- loving jay was like a dream, a dream so happy you knew he wasn't yours...

or where jay tried to break away from the system of soulmates but fate had other plans for him... and you.

genre- strangers to not lovers (uh oh), soulmate!au, college!au, first love, fluff, angst

word count- 7.7K (can yall hear me scream outta joy??)

warnings- profanity, mentions of drinking, my writing (lawl), sad ending (sorry not sorry)

taglist- @en-chantedtomeetyou

A/N- happy belated jay day <33!! Omfg my first ever oneshot?? I still cant believe i just had the motivation to finish this wip😭😭... its my first time ever writing a long fic so it maybe a bit all over the place but i really enjoyed writing this hehehe! So i hope yall enjoy this :((! try listening to this playlist for more feels it really helped me in the writing process! the beach scene is slightly inspired from 2521

note- this is purely a work of fiction and in no means depicts the idols' real personalities or the relationships between them.

･˳ . ⋆   subtle loneliness

Jay was never the one to believe in fate or destiny or even the fact that there was something like an 'other half. Despite having parents who loved each other and having their soulmate link, Jay never bought it. In a world where every individual was connected to another through some link, be it matching tattoos or the ability to feel someone's pain, he hadn't found his.

For him, it was bullshit. Who even was fate to decide whom he loved? ('Well, no one but, honey, you can't meddle with how it's meant to be', he still remembers his mother's words.)

Maybe as a kid, Jay used to sit long hours in his bedroom, willing to feel his soulmate's link, search for any tattoo and even write on his palm with hopes they'd reply.

Nothing ever happened and as he started growing older, he saw people around him meet their soulmate, he saw the way their eyes lighted up in their mention or the way they used to talk about their other halves.

He grew distant... different. It wasn't easy to be always the odd one out.

Even as Jay tried to go against it and casually date people in his high school, he realized how true his parents were. It never felt right, the feelings were never there and even if they were, they died too soon. In the end, he was left alone.

Which brought us to the present time of Jay's 3rd year in college. He sat on a creaky cafeteria chair observing his friends. Heeseung was busy on his phone messaging his soulmate, Yunjin,. Jake and Lily sat across him, laughing at something Sunghoon just said, their matching flower tattoo glowing dimly.

Looking at them, he felt this sort of loneliness fill in him, the type which made him want to runaway from his life. He had loving and supportive parents and friends who wouldn't leave him but deep down, Jay felt empty. Empty because despite his opposition against the system of soulmates, he knew he yearned for one. He yearned for someone who'd understand him, someone with whom he could share the love he saw in his parents.

'Yo bro, you going to the party today?' Heeseung's voice cut through Jay's thoughts.

'What-? Oh at Yeonjun's place right?'

'Yep', Sunghoon replied getting up. 'Time to get highh- ouch!' He exclaimed as Sunoo smacked his head from behind.

'Shut up, pretty boy. I ain't taking you home', the latter said, walking past the table where they sat.

'Oh c'mon Sun!' Sunghoon whined, following his boyfriend out of the college canteen.

Jay chuckled at their antics. It was almost... cute, he couldn't lie.

Keep reading

･˳ . ⋆   deep conversations with a drunk stranger

You weren't supposed to be at the party. Hell, you should have been studying for a test scheduled next week but being friends with Somi did have its disadvantages. Such as being dragged to some college party as the designated driver.

It wasn't like you hated parties. Quite honestly, you thought they were sort of fun and sometimes getting drunk seemed like the perfect option. But on that particular Friday night, you wanted to be anywhere but at your senior Yeonjun's house.

'Y/N it'll be fun i promise!' Somi begged you, dragging you out from her car to his door. 'No. You are just there to hook up with some guy.'

'Whatever. I am loyal to my soulmate!' She stuck out her tongue whilst pointing towards the black ink on her forearm.

'And who knows', Somi said, entering the house which was presently filled with half-drunk college students. 'Maybeee you could meet your soulmate today.'

You sighed, pushing past people, at the same time waving and smiling to some. 'Sure. My link-less soulmate', you replied sarcastically.

You realized she was leading you to the kitchen which was comparatively quieter but you could still spot a couple out in the distance.

'Hello ladies! What would you like in this fine evening?' The person sitting at the bar counter said, spotting you both.

'Hey Sunghoon, what you got?' You best friend asked the boy leaning against the counter.

'Some beer if you wanna stay with your senses or maybe something stronger. What about my specialty? It has been a hit today.' 'Fine... Lemme judge your bartender skills.

He turned towards you, 'And for you...?' 'Water because I need to drive this bitch back to dorms', You gave the blonde haired girl beside you a pointed look.

She grinned before her eyes squinted, following some guy. 'Ay sunghoon! You know that boy, standing 9 o'clock? Is he taken?'

'That's... Beomgyu. And no, lucky for you, he is pretty single.'

She clapped her hands, almost like scheming her plan. 'See you later, bestie!' Somi gave you a flying kiss, taking her drink from the counter and walking down the hallway.

You sighed, being left alone, your other friend Gaeul was down with a bad flu. You gave Sunghoon a tight lippped smile, accepting a glass of water.

An hour later, you found yourself moving to the backyard of the house. After spending an excruciatingly painful time trying to strike conversation with drunk students and avoiding being pulled into the dancing crowd, you escaped.

The night had cooled down a bit and the spring breeze hit your face, you walked up to the open. But what you didn't see was the figure already sitting in the dark.

'You can sit down if you want to.' You flinched at the sudden voice, turning to face the boy sitting down on the empty backyard.

You considered your options. You could go inside into a crowded party and not have to have a one on one conversation with a stranger. Or maybe you could avoid all the noise and do some small talk with a person who was kind enough to even offer you a seat.

You nodded, seating yourself down beside the boy on the steps. Only then did you notice who he was, 'Park Jay...?'

'Oh, so you know me?' You shrugged in reply. You had heard of him, the handsome and studious guy and spotted him in passing.

It was the first time you had ever seen Jay up close. And to be honest, he was just as gorgeous as you had heard people around you gush, maybe even more.

Almost as if you could look at him the entire day without getting bored.

The boy beside you questioned, 'And you are?' 'Y/N. We are in the same year, in case you're wondering', you added, half knowing what his next question could have been.

'Nice to meet you, Y/N', he extended his hand, giving a wide drunken grin. You shook his hand. It was the first time you had seen him smile because all the other times were from some other end of a college hallway. And you wouldn't lie, it suited his otherwise serious face.

A comfortable silence settled between you two for a while. You both looked ahead. Jay looked up as if counting the stars and you stared at the small garden. You could hear crickets chirp in the distance. And if it weren't for the fact that you had a friend to drive home to, you would have snuggled up in the back yard and slept.

'So, Y/N', Jay's voice suddenly boomed around your environment, as if crushing the calmth which surrounded you both. 'Do you believe in soulmates?'

This caught you off guard. Why would even a stranger be asking you this? 'Uh, that's... random.'

'Just answer me. I'm tired and I wanna talk to someone', he replied, somewhat impatiently.

I mean, what harm could it be? It was a typical topic of conversation and you needed some distraction to keep yourself awake.

Sitting up straighter, you looked towards him whose eyes were distant. 'Well, yep, I do.'

'You must be one of those lucky people who found their soulmates early in life, huh?' He whispered under his breath, not meaning you to listen.

'Actually no', you replied calmy. 'I... don't have a soulmate. Or even a link for that matter.'

It didn't faze you anymore. The fact that you didn't feel any physical or mental signs of a soulmate. Some people did consider it weird. But it was all okay for you.

Jay's head quickly turned towards you. 'So, there are people like me?'

'I'm sorry?' 'Guess I'm just like you, Y/N.'

Your stomach flipped at the new information. You hadn't thought of ever meeting someone who had much the same problem as yours. 'Oh. That's well... new?' 'Why do you still believe in it?' He asked further.

'Why not? Imagine being with someone who understands you so much that it's crazy. Don't you think it's pretty amazing how two people are connected since birth, destined to meet? I feel that's kinda magical. In a cruel world, sometimes it's worth believing in fairytales.'  Jay's eyes were closed but he was listening to every single thing. Almost as if your voice was calming him down, putting a stop to his racing thoughts.

You then added, 'You aren't different, Jay. You just need some time.' Well, this is what you always said to yourself.

'But what about my soulmate? What are they waiting for?' he opened his eyes and you noticed how dark his eyes were but they held a soft subtle innocence in them. Even though Jay had a casual smile on his face, his eyes said otherwise.

You weren't an expert in reading people but you thought you saw a bitter loneliness in his eyes. It reminded you of yourself, which made sense. And for some reason it made you feel sad too, it made you want to take away his sadness.

'They are there somewhere. Don't worry about them. And I hope you find them, just at the right time. Just when you need them. It's hard I know, to go about your day seeing all the people around you together.' You trailed, checking the time. 'Oh fuck! I think I need to jet. Gotta save my friend from making bad decisions', you chuckled, getting up.

'Can you read my mind, Y/N?' Jay wondered. You laughed, 'Oh yes! I'm secretly a psychic. Bye for now, Park Jay.' You waved him goodbye, your thoughts slowly getting occupied with those concerning Somi as you made your way down the hallway.

Jay muttered a small adieu, his face resting on his cheek. He felt lighter and giddier for some reason. Like, excited to meet you again. Something in the way you talked made him listen to your voice again and again.

･˳ . ⋆   almost... complete

Jay didn't believe in fate but after that night he hoped that he could see you again. Even if it was just to talk to you once. All he knew was your name. He was starting to forget your face which he had seen in the dark in a drunken haze.

He may have almost forgotten the sound of your voice a month later if it hadn't been a somewhat familiar voice calling out to him when he was somewhere in the depths of sleep.

'Uh sir, excuse me. We are about to close', you said, lightly tapping the shoulder of the boy who seemed to be asleep, his face down on the table of the cafe where you worked. All around him were pages and books and his laptop was wide open beside him, its screen dark. Typical college student things you could relate to.

Since starting your shift three hours ago, you had seen him in this position. Your only hoped that he hadn't fainted or anything due college pressure. That may have caused you some trouble.

The person before you slowly started to stir after your continuous calls. It was almost 11pm and you couldn't afford to be late to an early class tomorrow.

Seeing him lift his head off the table, you moved away.

'Who wha-' Jay yawned, rubbing his eyes to see his surroundings only to find your widened eyes staring at his sleepy form. His stomach dropped at your sight, moreover at the thought of you finding him sleeping like that. 'Oh fuc-' he hastily patted his hair and wiped his chin for any signs of him drooling.

You tried to hold back your laugh upon seeing him so flustered. You wouldn't lie, he did look adorable, quite a contrast to studious and mysterious vibe he had going on. 'Jay, we meet again.'

'You work here?' 'I mean, I wouldn't be wearing the barista's uniform if I didn't', you replied teasingly.

'Sorry. My bad', he rubbed his forehead. 'How long was I asleep?'

'More than three hours for sure. It's closing time and everyone has left. I suggest you pack up', you pointed at the mess on his table.

He realized what he had done. Slept when he should have been completing his assignment. 'No. It's due today', he whispered to himself, softly banging his head on the table.

'Here', you came from behind the counter and placed a cup of coffee in front of him. 'In case you need to pull an all nighter. This really helps.'

Jay quickly sat up seeing you. He was taken aback, 'I- uh can't accept this.' 'You have to. Now, quick, I need to go back home', you said, closing any room for arguments.

Jay awkwardly stood beside you, finishing his coffee as you locked the cafe. Patting the lock twice as a part of an old habit, you started walking with Jay following in tow.

You wouldn't lie, you were kind of nervous by his presence, you didn't even know why. Plus you were at loss of what to say.

Okay, maybe that wasn't the case... you did have questions for him like why was he so tired, what was his major, who gave him even the permission to look so attractive without even trying- (oh, that wasn't part of the script). Hell, you wanted to know him better and maybe even befriend him. And of course, you hadn't been thinking of him a lot since that one Friday night (ps, it's a lie).

'Sooo', you stopped in your tracks in an attempt to start up a conversation. 'Tough week?' Jay chuckled, catching up to your position, 'You know, you don't have to start a conversation just because we are so awkward.'

Fuck? Your cheeks turned pink in embarrassment, 'Uh-' 'But yep, I haven't had proper sleep in a while. Just have these assignments piling up which sucks.' He let out an exasperated sigh, 'Be a business major, my dad said, it'll be fun.'

'I can assure you that a creative writing major ain't any better', you rolled your eyes, walking up to the bus stop.

'Wait that's so cool!' Jay exclaimed and he meant it. He wasn't at all the creative type and he really marveled at how people could make others feel so much with words.

'Uhh it isn't as cool as it sounds', you scrunched your nose in disgust. Jay couldn't help but feel his stomach do a back flip at your expression. Dude, what is wrong with you? Why are you being a creep? His inner voice scolded him.

'But yea, it's fun when I'm not drowning in- oh the bus is here!' You announced looking at the familiar last bus that ran to your apartment.

You got in, finding a mostly empty vehicle aside from two sleeping college students and a man returning from work. You turned back, raising your hand to wave at Jay only to find him climbing behind you.

'Wait you live south of the campus too?' You asked, confused.

Jay made a surprised face, 'Ah yes! Just a bit farther away from there.' 'Weird I haven't ever seen you in this route.'

He laughed, which you assumed to be, nervously before going a taking the window seat.

You stood their in the aisle wondering whether to just sit beside him or take another one. You knew you should just find another place, considering how empty the bus was but weren't you both having a conversation?

A conversation you didn't want to end...

Jay didn't expect to feel a presence beside him as he looked out of the bus window. Surprised, he turned to look at you staring back at him.

When you saw him looking at you, you quickly ducked your head and cleared your throat, 'Ahem, so as I was saying...' you trailed, questioning whether he wanted to hear your useless banter.

'... About writing? Tell me more about it', Jay eagerly completed for you.

A small smile grew on your face. 'Tell me when you get bored, okay?' You jokingly warned him. I could never get bored of you talking, he thought but nodded nonetheless.

'Well, this would be me', you said, seeing the bus near the stop situated just a block or two away from your apartment. 'Where do you live?' You asked him as you took your bag.

'Uh', the boy stuttered for a second. 'The... next stop yep', Jay gave you a smile, internally slapping himself for the answer.

'Oh', you nodded. 'It was... nice talking to you, again.'

'I'm pretty sure the first time doesn't count', he chuckled. 'Message me once you reach home', he blurted out and then realized what he had just said. He wasn't even as close as a friend to say something like that, what was he thinking?

You felt your cheeks warm at his concern (?). Honestly, you found it very cute. 'Sure Mom', you teased him. 'Bye Park Jay!' You waved, getting down.

His lips quirked upwards, waving back to your slowly disappearing figure before taking out his phone and checking where he was. He had never, for the life of him, even ventured into this side of the town. Mostly he didn't have any need to.

Yes, he had just taken a different route and ended up quite far away from his dorms. All because he didn't want to let a chance go to talk to you.

After he was out of the bus and sitting on a bench, the dim streetlight shining on him, Jay sighed waiting for his cab and rested his head on his cheeks, he wondered out loud, 'what is happening to me?'

He knew it wasn't normal for him to be like this, use up the time talking to you when he should be doing his assignment. But you had an aura around yourself, something about the way you talked, the things you talked about, all seemed to pull Jay towards you. He had noticed the way your eyes sparkled when speaking about something you loved and how you were just as attentive to hear him rant.

He wasn't used to feeling like this, almost... complete.

･˳ . ⋆ against all odds

After that day, you talked to Jay almost everyday. Be it long deep text conversations or a good morning or have a nice day across the hallways, he could always find you somewhere. Sometimes you both ditched your friend groups to have lunch together because it was kind of boring to sit there with couples all around, you both claimed. Somedays you studied together at the library where you found yourself taking small nervous glances at his concentrated face.

But, at least for you, you just enjoyed his presence. Enjoyed how easy it was to strike a conversation with him, talk to him like old friends. Enjoyed how despite being kind of serious, Jay was very funny and he always found a way to make you cringe with him dad jokes.

It was all the small little things about him that just made it harder to not adore him. Like when the time he was willing to take abandoned kitten homes despite being allergic to them. Or when he tried the coffee flavors you were experimenting with, even though, they all tasted awful.

It didn't mean anything else, right...? we are just friends for God's sake! you told yourself. But then why were you feeling giddy at the sight of him walking up to you? Why did you feel your stomach do a sudden turn as he neared you, a soft smile on his face?

'Ready?' Jay asked. You nodded and noticed how casual yet handsome he looked with an oversized t-shirt and shorts. Well, he knew just how to pull any look. ('You know, you could have just chosen a fashion major', you had said to Jay once when he was contemplating his life choices).

'Let's go!' You exclaimed, skipping your way ahead of him. He chuckled behind you, feeling his heart warm at your childish action but then grumbled about how crowded it'd be at the Uni's summer festival. You turned to face him and stuck out your tongue, 'Too late to cop out now!'

You thought it was kind of a crime that Jay hadn't ever been to the festival in the past two years (for his defense, he said that the it was filled with soulmates. 'How can you know if you haven't ever gone there?' You counter questioned him). So, this year you took it up to yourself to drag the boy.

However, surprisingly, it wasn't as hard to convince him as you had expected, just a bribe to treat him to free coffee every week and win him something from the fair.

So, there you both were, walking through the festival, with various stalls set up by the students. You could see Somi in the kissing booth and Gaeul was probably somewhere with her soulmate, Hueningkai, hosting a bake sale.

'How do you like it?' You asked Jay, walking side by side while searching for the game stalls. 'It's... okay. But hey, I was right, this place is filled with soulmates.'

'Omg c'mon now! Let them be. Just because we haven't found ours doesn't mean you have to be so anti-romantic', you playfully slapped his shoulder. 'There it is!' You spotted it, pointing at the ring toss game.

You pulled him through the crowd. Jay noticed the way your hand was tugging at his wrist and he felt a jolt of electricity run through his body at the contact.

'Oh Jake?!' You exclaimed upon seeing Jay's friend at the stall.

'Y/N!' He replied enthusiastically. You hadn't hung out with his friends much but the times you had they had been nothing but warm, especially Jake who was always willing to talk to you.

'What are you doing here?' Jay asked in a flat voice. 'Making money, mate.'

The Australian guy then noticed your hand circled around his and wiggled his eyebrows at his friend. Realizing what he was implying, you quickly dropped his hand, embarrassed.

'One ticket for the game', the tall boy beside you said, breaking the awkward atmosphere that had settled and taking out his wallet.

'Hey! I pay', you scolded him. He turned to look at you with bored eyes, 'Yeah right, no way.'

You sputtered, 'B-but I forced you to come here, I should pa-' 'Which gives me even more reason to pay because you did succeed.'

You grumbled, defeated and knowing how stubborn he could be.

'So, you get four chances with one ticket', Jake said, handing you four rings. 'Make all these four through the pegs and you get a prize. A smaller prize if you get three pegs down.'

You nodded, determined to win.

What followed was your very hard attempt to throw those rings in place. You didn't realize how bad of a hand-eye coordination you had until only one of the rings made it to the peg. 'Fuck! Wait I don't get anything for one?' Jake shook his head, giving a sad smile.

Beside you, Jay chuckled, 'Tried your luck? Let's go.'

'Nope! One more ticket', you took out the money from your bag, beating Jay to it. 'Okay phew!' You prepared yourself, tying your hair.

Jake cheered, 'Y/N you can do it!'

You couldn't. 'Nooo! What the hell!' You cried in defeat, looking at the four hoops that had landed at different places, one even hitting Jake on his head.

'Oh God. You are terrible at this. Here, lemme show you', Jay said obviously done with how poorly you had performed. 'Last round.'

He came behind you, one hand touching your shoulder and the other one holding your hand. You stiffened at it, feeling his breath near your ear.

This was normal, right? Normal for a friend to touch your hands oh so gently and guide it so that you could win the prize?

But I have already won my prize you thought, turning your head to look at him carefully instructing you, his eyes on the game. You didn't know how to stop the blush from settling, seeing Jay so close, his dark eyes sparkling in the setting sun. It felt almost... magical.

Magical but deep down you knew, wrong because he wasn't your soulmate and you weren't his.

In the daze you were in, you didn't realize when and how he had put four rings through the hoop. 'There!' He exclaimed, removing his hand from your. 'That's how you do it', Jay said, flicking your forehead.

'Ouch!' You tried your best to break away from your thoughts, shaking your head and making a face of fake annoyance. 'But ugh-!' You pouted. 'I wanted to win it for you!' You whined

He chuckled, taking a plushie, 'You can still claim it like you won it for me, hm?'

'Fine.' You snatched it from him, turned around for a second before offering it to him, 'My dear friend Park Jay, here is my bribe for bringing you here. Please accept this little offering for I have won it with all my blood, sweat and tears!' You proclaimed proudly.

Yea, quite some eyes turned to your direction but you didn't really mind it. Jay cracked up, before pulling you away from the game stall, 'C'mon noe. Gosh, dramatic much?'

You grinned, 'Only for you.' Playfully bumping your shoulder with his.

He brushed it off but his mind was somehow stuck at your earlier three words. only for... him? It shouldn't account to much, but it did.

After going around the festival for another half an hour, greeting some of your friends, (forcibly) eating the burnt cookies Gaeul had made and stuffing your mouths with some much better food, you both made your way to the open area where the live band took place. It was the star attraction and your college was pretty famous for it.

The best thing was that anyone could come up on stage and sing their hearts out and the audience would follow them. Even before starting college, you used to come there alone to enjoy the vibe.

And now you had Jay with you.

Night had fallen by the time the first band stepped up, hyping up the crowd. Luckily, it was a clear evening, the stars shining bright as the songs started flowing in.

The first few were soft melodies, you swayed your body to the beat and watched Jay standing beside you, his eyes on the stage. You wanted to decipher what they said. Were they mesmerized? Did he feel bored? Was he thinking of something?

Jay wasn't a very expressive person. The only time you had seen him in a fully vulnerable state, filled with feelings, was the night you met him. But you didn't want him to be like that, you didn't want him to hold back his emotions.

So, you took his hand. Jay, surprised, turned to face you. You shrugged and smiled, raising his hand with yours, moving it with the song.

While you closed your eyes, he was still looking at you, his lips parted apart which slowly turned into a small smile. He studied your features one by one, eyes filled with adoration.

And that is when Jay realized. He didn't need any soulmate or his other half if he could spend all his time with you. Like, at that moment how you both were dancing to some fast track; panting, screaming and shouting like everyone else. He didn't need anything else if he could see you smiling, staring into his eyes with orbs filled with joy.

There may not be fate connecting you and Jay but it was fate that had brought you to him and at that moment he felt he wouldn't give up on you, even if he found his soulmate.

'And for the next song, I'll request you to partner up with your soulmate and if you haven't found yours, grab the person who's closest to you', the lead singer said.

Before you could look for a friend or anyone, Jay turned you towards him. 'The person nearest to me, you', he whispered, pulling you a bit closer. You nodded, feeling butterflies going wild in your stomach, unable to look anywhere but his face.

A guitar started to strum in the background and the low, sad voice of the singer followed it. It was a familiar song.

Jay bathed in the lyrics of the song, singing along to Jaurim's 'Til Death Do Us Apart'. You placed a hand on his shoulder and intertwined the other with his fingers. He looked into your eyes, '죽음이 우리를 갈라놓을 때까지 (i'll not let go of your hand that i take).'

'오, 그대여 내 손을 잡아요 (my dear, hold my hand)

이제는 혼자가 아니야 (you're no longer alone)'

You didn't know what passed between you both at that moment but you realized that somewhere along the past few weeks, you had crossed the line of being mere friends with Jay, or rather your feelings had.

Or else you wouldn't be resting your head on his shoulder, feeling his voice flow into your ears like some age old melody you had been searching for...

'Til the death do us apart

'Til the end of the world...'

Later that night, Jay lay awake on his bed, thinking back to the feelings that had dawned on him. He felt a smile make the way to his face as he thought of you. The way you lighted up the world or rather his. He hadn't ever felt so connected to a person. He knew that the feelings he had been harbouring were more than just passing emotions.

Could it be possible...? Possible that you were what he was searching for the entire time. Neither of you had a link, so it could make sense. Jay sat up, the sheets rustling under him.

'Bro, sleep and wipe the lovesick smirk off your face', Heeseung yawned from beside him. 'No I'm not-' he tried protesting.

The other boy turned to face him with a deadpanned look, 'You look different. As in, happier.'

'What...' Jay was confused, he didn't feel that way.. okay maybe that was a big fat lie, he did feel... well, something!

'You know well enough what I mean, Park. Don't act like we are blind to you and Y/N. See, Jay, you have always been kind of a... how do I explain it? Somewhat of a pessimistic sad person, using sarcasm to mask yourself, which I totally understand. But these days, dude, you are more open and free and I think it's because of her...'

Jay didn't know how to react. Heeseung was right. He did feel like meeting you sort of took away the sense of loneliness set deep within him. Not only because you were like him but also because you were you. Always attempting to have fun, to pull Jay out with you, like that one time you both dance in the rain with your friends even though normally he would never. You had a subtle wild and playful side to your deep persona.

'Do you... do you think we could actually be together if I tried?' He asked his friend, his eyes on the dark ceiling.

'Now I don't know the chances of her being your soulmate but even if she isn't, do you want to take the chance to be with her? It's up to you, Jay.'

He was right. There was no gurantee that you both were meant to be but he was willing. He was willing to take the chance.

Against all odds..

･˳ . ⋆ maybe this moment would last forever

In the days that followed the night of the festival, Jay seemed changed, but in a good way or so you hoped. You noticed, in small ways, how he smiled more often, seemed happier when around you and randomly gave you compliments. Jay was a naturally helpful person but somedays you could find him waiting outside your class or walking you home which was quite afar from his, despite your protests. ('See as a good friend, it is my duty to accompany you back home late at night', he said once. You had scoffed, 'Speak for yourself, Park. You are literally scared of everything.')

This was unlike him but what was unlike you was that you liked it. You liked how he made you feel- giddy, excited and blushing. You had had fleeting crushes before but with Jay it was something more because with each little interaction, you found yourself falling more and more.

Love was a strong word and for someone who had never got a sign from their soulmate, you were even more wary of it. In fact, you couldn't even say how it felt. Did it feel the way your parents used to cook dinner together in the kitchen, looking into each other's eyes, having some secret moment pass between them?

'Hey, Y/N', Jay called out to you in a low whisper as you both sat at a secluded corner of the library. You looked up from the short story you were working on for the past hour. It was due in a few days and you were stuck at just the most crucial part if the story.

'What now?' You questioned, rubbing your forehead in slight frustration for running out of ideas. 'Wanna ditch this for a while?'

'Look, Park, you may be having a nice time with assignments right now but I'm struggling to write the ending', you glared at him despite wanting nothing more than to close your laptop shut.

He clicked his tongue, 'Which gives us even more reason to have a little fun, hm?' 'Since when do you give up on our studying session?! You asked, confused at what he was saying. 'It's my job to take you on random adventures!'

How can I even study when you're the only thing in my mind? He thought but replied, 'Guess I should take over your position. Now, give yourself a break, Y/N.'

You sighed but gave in. A break wouldn't hurt... right? Plus, it was Jay so you knew you would have said agreed after some persuasion.

'Where are we going? Are you kidnapping me?' You demanded, packing your things. He winked, 'You'll see.' Your heart did a flip at his action and you couldn't help but wonder what had been taking over your friend (? Or crush? Or the literal love of your life?) for the past days.

'Okay, is this a trap to drive me to my death?' You huffed, sitting in Jay's car, remembering that one time he had offered to drive you home and you had to take over the wheel considering how bad he was driving.

'Don't worry, I don't drive that bad. Trust me.' 'The only thing I cannot do', You lied.

'Are we going...' You trailed, turning your face away from the rapidly changing scenery and looking towards the boy heavily concentrated on the road. He gave a quick smile, 'To the beach? Yep.'

'You know, I could have driven us to there too', you protested seeing how tensed he looked. 'But I wanted to kind of... surprise you', he muttered.

You stopped, staring at his face. God, you couldn't even help it but to giggle at his words. 'Caught you there, didn't I?' He smirked.

You whispered, not meaning him to hear you, 'You did...

You felt his hand on yours. 'Focus on driving, dummy.' But he didn't remove it. A blush caught in your cheeks as you rested your head on the seat, looking ahead. It was almost 6 in the evening but the sun was still up there, thanks to summer.

The beach was quite far from the campus but a mundane happiness filled you, driving down the empty roads, singing along to the music playing. You could hear Jay's soft voice sing under his breath as he slowly gained confidence in his driving. 'You should sing more often, Jay.' it sounds like honey.

'Finally!' You exclaimed, jumping out of the car and seeing the beach spread before you. You squinted your eyes in confusion, 'But why is this so empty?'

Jay came up behind you, taking your hand, 'I drove us to a quieter part. I accidentally discovered it during my first year when me and Sunghoon bunked our classes. Let's go!'

'You know we could get sick, Y/N!' Jay screamed at you as you splashed water all over his shirt.

You teased him, 'Too late! You suggested that we- yah!' You shouted as he suddenly attacked you. He laughed at your shocked face.

'Park, you'll pay!' You warned, searching the sand for anything you could find.

'What are you doing?', he asked, curious before widening his eyes at the sight of you picking up a stray rock and readying yourself to chase him. 'Are you crazy?' He ran in the opposite direction.

Jay turned around to find you catching up to him, laughing, the rock held high up your hand. The wind blew your hair in different directions and the sun casting beautiful patterns on your face. Jay thought he hadn't seen a sight so free before.

He fumbled for his phone, taking it out and snapping a picture before you could protest. 'Delete that!' You demanded, upon reaching him and softly hitting him with the stone.

Jay shook his head, pulling you with him closer to the shore, the waves washing up to your feet and the feeling of the sand slipping under you. 'God, I missed this so much!' You muttered to yourself. 'And I missed feeling so complete', he said.

Your face lighted up at his words. He was a lonely boy and you were a lonely girl but maybe that is what completed your friendship. You both were so alike that you loved small differences you shared.

'What are we? Kids?' Jay asked, sitting beside you in front of his car, waiting for the fireworks.

'Maybe. But I liked this. I like feeling like we are some dumb 10 year olds instead of adults', you said looking ahead at the horizon and reflecting back on the past hour where you both ran around the shore, writing your names on the sand, drenching each other in water and bathing in the happiness that those moments brought.

It felt special, like you didn't want to let it go. 'God, why do I feel like this moment would last forever?' You wondered out loud, a sinking feeling in your stomach knowing how it will end in a matter of few minutes. 'Maybe it will.' Jay scooted closer to you, resting his head on your shoulder.

You looked down at his soft hair and grinning face and put your hand around his shoulder and nervously put your head on his.

For once, you seem to forgot that he wasn't your soulmate, you just wanted to convince yourself that maybe... just maybe Jay could be the one.

You now think how foolish you were to be blinded by those delusions.

'You once said I'll meet my soulmate just at the right time. I guess that didn't happen but I met you, just at the right time. I don't think I want to give up on being twenty or in love with you. I want this summer to last forever, I want us to last forever', his voice came like a soft whisper, the words blending into each other inside your brain as you tried to process what he had just said. You stared back at him, your heart leaping at what he had just said.

The four lettered word you had been scared of. But at that very moment, you thought love found a meaning for you. At that very moment when you saw Jay's face nearing yours, his eyes sparkling with some hidden thought.

However, you knew what they said. Love. 'I love you-' He couldn't complete it because the next moment, you cupped his face, pulling him closer into a kiss.

And that's when you found the meaning of love. It was simple, soft like landing on a bed of feathers, but it was also like a spark, like the fireworks you could hear in the distance as his lips moved in sync with yours in the dying light of the summer, saying the words you don't think you'll ever have the courage to utter. Love was a grand thing but sometimes it just meant spending a summer evening at the beach, letting the feeling of youth wash over you. Sometimes it meant playing a game you couldn't win.

And it was also the moment when you understood what heartbreak felt like because after you broke the kiss, resting your forehead on his, your breaths the only sound you could hear, something caught your eyes. It was Jay's finger that was tracing your cheeks.

It was a red string, so thin, barely visible. The red string of fate, that connected two souls together and that's when you saw, it wasn't connected to your finger...

He wasn't yours to keep.

･˳ . ⋆ letting you go

'Y/N, wait, can... we just... talk?' A voice called out to you from across the almost empty hallway.

His voice.

You stopped in your tracks, a familiar feeling of sadness taking over you. Over the past week, you had tried everything to avoid Jay, to keep him at bay.

The car ride back from the beach was silent, he had been way too shaken to say anything and kept glancing at the red thread emerging from his finger. His soulmate link, something he had searched for ever but it only came when he wanted it to disappear.

Through the long journey, you had made up your mind. That you weren't his soulmate, no matter how either of you felt. And you wouldn't be the one to hold him back.

'What is there to talk?' You asked bitterly, feeling his hand turning you to face him.

'Why have you been avoiding me? Di-did that kiss mean nothing?' Jay's voice broke.

'It meant everything to me-' '- then why?! Are you scared of this?' He pointed at his finger. 'You know I have tried everything to make it go. I have searched online to see what to do with it but I just can't find anything! That's how much I want to be with you, Y/N', he said, desperation seeping into his voice.

'But Jay, we aren't meant to be. I don't want to take you from someone who really deserves you. Don't you see, it will-' You took a deep breath, controlling the tears welling in your eyes. 'It will hurt us both.'

He took your hand, pulling your chin to face his eyes, 'We'll make it work, love. I cannot let a stupid thread decide who I love. Please.'

His please quite literally broke you from the inside and you couldn't help but let one drop of tear roll past your cheek. No one said how hard it could be to fall for the wrong boy. The boy whose line of fate didn't collide with yours.

No one said that letting him go, for both of your happiness would be one the hardest things ever. And maybe because you loved him, you uttered the next few words, 'No. I will not live my life as a regret, thinking I stole you from someone. I have to let go, Jay. You should too.' You pried your hands out of his as Jay's face contorted in sadness, his eyes flickering, unable to hold back his tears.

You couldn't see him cry but mostly you knew you should just withdraw yourself to not cause him anymore pain. You turned around wiping your face and walking away. Away from the one you loved, away from a future you could have had.

･˳ . ⋆ twenty forever

You knew what you were getting yourself into when you agreed to accompany Gaeul to the college reunion party. It had almost been over six years since you had seen your classmates.

Since you had seen... him.

It wasn't like you didn't wanna go, heck, you had missed those friends from the days of college too but you knew he would be there and with him would come back all the memories and love you had tried so hard to suppress. They would overflow, creating a new wound or maybe opening the old one.

And he stands before you, a glass in his hands, giving you a small, almost sad smile. He looks different and yet so same to the Jay you had fallen for.

You remember laughing at his jokes, bickering with him over the stupidest nerdiest topics ever, holding his hand as you both ran in the dark. It all flashes like some film montage. But mostly you remember the night when you met him.

A night which was similar to todays. The night you found him drunk in the backyard. You wonder what would have happened if you hadn't gone to the party, if you hadn't made your way to him.

You'd be a way different person than you were today.

If you try hard enough, you feel like you'll get transported to your memories, where you are still twenty.

His voice comes out soft and tender, 'Thank you, Y/N. Thank you for teaching me how to love and-' He stops, hesitating or rather contemplating whether to say what comes next, 'Thank you for-' '- for being my first love, Jay.'

･˳ . ⋆ In the season when the wind blows and flowers fall, it still seems as if I'm holding your hand...

If you have made it through this mess, drop down a feedback as it really helps! ily and i hope you have a great day/night ^^!!

work belongs to @/luvistqrzzz do not, repost or translate my work.

[randomnameless]

I really don't like the way you say a Laguz is "dead" or not a Laguz anymore if it can't transform. You'd be bothered if somebody said a person died or became less than human if they were paraplegic or severely mentally handicapped, right?

Good thing that people transforming in animals who lose said ability because they got a mixed-race baby don't exist in real life right ?

I'm sure the argument of "you'll be crippled if you get a baby with people X" was used in nauseabond RL circles during darker ages, but I'm sure that's not the kind of comparison you wanted to make anon !

Death is of course a metaphor, Almedha and Lehran are still alive and kicking through FE9 and FE10.

However, through the course of those games, if you played them or watched a lp, players realise that Laguz identity is tied to their ability to use their respective powers, in opposition to beorcs who don't have the same abilities.

A Laguz is thus a human who can transform in a bestial form and use their inherent power. Laguz societies put a lot of emphasis on this ability to transform and the inherent "strength" of their kin that we are told they base some system of government according to it (strongest becomes king).

(don't ask me why Tellius devs decided to tackle the "good savage" trope by having literal animal people, but it sure was a decision)

Now, Almedha and Lehran cannot transform anymore.

They cannot use their powers anymore (Lehran's inability to sing, thus fulfil his part of the promise to the goddess was one of the reasons behind his initial mental breakdown !).

They have, as Tibarn notes it, no scent anymore : I don't think scent here means what kind of perfume they're using, but something more in the lines that their core being changed and he, as a Laguz, cannot recognise it to the point where he's confused and wonders if she's a beorc or, neither beorc nor laguz...

As someone with chronic illness, I do not think I'm less than human because a pair of lungs don't define identity or "humanity", but in the Tellius world, for Laguz, being able to use their various powers define who they are.

Deghinsea is blunt like a hammer, alas he's not wrong : Lehran "lost" his "birthright" and this loss isn't treated like Largo's loss of his arm.

Short story : Laguz who hold hands with Beorcs and get a kid will lose all (but not the ability to use a sending Stone ?) of their powers and while they feel like they are no "true" Laguz anymore, the other Laguz can't recognise them as kin either.

Irl people who deny humanity to people who are, in your own words, "paraplegic or severely mentally handicapped" are pieces of crap and, imo, should be avoided at all costs, but we're not talking about irl, but about the fictional setting of Tellius that I find more and more shitty with the years.

In Tellius, a Laguz who fucks a Beorc, for themselves and for the rest of the world (hell even with their world's mechanics, iirc Sephiran loses the wind weakness bird laguz have ?), stop being Laguz, i.e. as a Laguz, they effectively die.

Laguz who turn feral and have their minds erased can still, thanks to herons, switch between forms (Rajaion).

Almedha cannot.

Laguz who were tortured and lost, due to said torture, the ability to use their wings, still can use their powers and transform (Rafiel).

Lehran cannot.

I'd be very happy, anon, if a future remake tweaked the ending for those characters and pulled some shit like "with the support of his friends and family, and mayhap the help of the goddesses he so faithfully served, Lehran finally managed to hum a galdr" and something similar with Almedha.

It would lessen, somewhat, the main plot sink of that verse that can be, and was, summed up as "Racism bad, but miscgenation bad too :S"