#one like = one more point on this stupid dynamic programming question

[wisdom4theday]

The Sacred Drive

Rediscovering Love in a Misguided World By Utkarsh Dabas

Editor’s Note: The author notes that following a path of love as seen by a guru, will never end in a home of genuine love. Manipulation cannot be a way to achieve it, but the “animalistic” nature of humans, expressing your true self, is the way to go.

From our diets to family dynamics, the human world is ever-evolving. However, some shifts are negative, and the steering wheel must be grabbed. On social media, so-called ‘dating coaches’ are popping up like mosquitoes. With their programs and dating advice, they reduce romantic relationships into a game of beguiling your partner to stay and serve you. Loving requires vulnerability. While not everyone can handle the tension of it, everyone wants to be loved. They capitalize on this confusion, selling you what you do not need. Their ‘know it all’ attitude may calm your feelings of uncertainty, but also strips passionate love of its magic. Promoting lustful greed over devout intimacy. I am all for psychological insight when it is needed. A marriage & family class I attended in college has opened my eyes to how genuine communication and quality bedtime saves marriages. Counselling also helps as it may confront underlying negativity with questions. But these gurus are selling answers. Let us start how everything starts, with a story of…

Boy meets girl

Imagine, you have been hustling on a long road. Even though you felt like a spent bullet, you dragged yourself and made it here. You stretch your limbs now, take a breath, and relax for once. But then, you see something outside the kitchen window, something shining under the sun. And everything changes.

You see a gal/ a lady, or a mother of 4. Whatever you fancy. Cute smile, long curly hair (imagine short hair if you want). In a sundress, she seems simple yet royalty. You have not slept in 3 days but suddenly you got the energy to crusade for 3 more. Your pupils dilate. The heart which had turned to stone, beats again! Your body is excited as if you found a ruby, while mining only for coal. In the background, your friends are planning something stupid again. You grab one to the window, point and ask, “Who is she? Never seen anyone like that”. He does not know, none of them know. Yet, you feel like you have always known her. ‘You only need to extend your hand’ something inside you speaks! Sitting on the grass by the pond, with her legs stretched out, she is intently listening to some monkey looking chap. Maybe it’s her little brother, cousin, her kid perhaps. Or maybe… You do not care, maybe you should? You turn to your brothers, “Guys, get me talking to her! that one there! By the pond.” “Which one?” “Who?” “A gal!? I thought you had learned your lesson with that species” You point and stress your voice, “That one, the beautiful one! With curly hair”

In the golden hour, her face too, seems to shine. The guys look you up and down, then at each other. None have seen you this excited before. They conclude that the world has worked on you, and this is the final breakdown. “You’ve gone crazy. Here”, they offer you a beer, a cigarette, even some broad in the kitchen is eyeing you. But you want none of it, not anymore. You have been touched by the light. What you do want; is to jump straight out the window, send that chap to his grandparents, and just sit there beside her. You want to talk to her, maybe touch her curly black hair, find out what makes her tick and keep her smiling. Peace, till the end of days… Congratulations, this is just a taste of being in Love. What you gona do now? She is unaware of your existence. This matter can be very simple, or very complicated. It depends on you, the gal, and God.

Concern about love gurus and relationship experts commodifying Love.

Most of these opinions from the dating market ignore the key ingredients of Love: Friendship, open hearted communication, and respect. Some are outright measuring self-worth by how many men or women one can get.

There is a bit of truth in all of this, but most of it is fuelled by greed, bitterness, and spiritual weakness. Do you want a companion or a slave? Are you a prostitute to approach one woman after another? If you cannot see the human in that labelled narcissist, you have been trained by the propaganda. If you want to climb, having women on a pedestal can help. If she does not inspire you, if you learn nothing from her, do not bother. If you cannot see a Queen in her, go solo. If you two are not emotionally naked to each other and feel as one, it is lacking. A companion will inspire you, uplift you, will point out holes in the road you are blind to. Somebody who will balance respect and pushing your buttons. What makes us human is loving and giving without the covert expectation to dominate. A man’s best friend, the dog, is the result of cooperation between pre-agricultural humans and wolves. It is a plausible idea that some aspects of societal evolution have been inspired by Wolves. Wolves mate in lifelong monogamous pairs and are very social animals. Contrary to theories of Alpha and Beta formulated by observing captive wolves, wild wolf packs are led by logic and affection, not domination. Young strong hunters have been observed taking food to the old who can no longer fend for themselves. Through play, the elderly of the pack teaches young pups’ social etiquette and survival tactics. Bonobos, a primate species we share 98.7% percent of our DNA with, engage in promiscuous orgies as a group bonding activity, and exchange sex for all kinds of favors. Yet wolves get a bad reputation as cunning and ruthless animals. Plain ruthless behaviour is an open threat, but the real danger is wolves dressed as sheep. Or for this topic, monkeys posing as shepherds. Dating gurus and coaches are a return to monkeys. Why are these Gurus gaining ground?

The hypocrisy of our times expands further than dating coaches. While love will always have its place, people focus on symptoms and are ignoring the core. Institutions, coaches, and YouTubers are raising kids. Parents are working the rat race overtime. Our grandparents live separately or are left to the care of burned-out nurses. Now bills, high-taxes, and inflation is threatening to swallow us too. The young are left with a void to fill. In Japan, the government is worried about the number of single populations. Advertisements, politicians, gurus, so called experts are misleading people. Protein powders, building muscle mass instead of mobility. Half of medicine is a scam. And more than half of what is in grocery stores, is not food at all. I know people who go to church but are deaf to the voice of God. Dating coaches like playing God by rigidly defining masculine and feminine frames. Dictating roles and lifestyle that are unnaturally limiting. Their perspectives profess repression of feelings in both men and women. Choking authenticity and turning men against their most powerful force; feelings. Be a rebel instead and connect with your heart. My charming Latvian friend, golden haired and blue eyed, has always been smooth. Girls came easy and went easy, until he found THE ONE. Everyone is unique, and so is their Love. If you are like me, liking a gal may get you confused and even in an existential crisis. ‘What am I doing with my life?’ ‘Where will this go?’, etc, etc. Some may seek guidance in these matters. I was always second guessing everything until I met THE Lady. My Soul was restless but through her vibe, I felt content and learned to rest. In this lady, I saw the peace of God; moving bare feet on the grass, the tone of her voice, and even the questions she asked, lead my mind to clarity. She was exactly the program my operating system needed. I had concluded I was just cracked in the head. Knowing her I feel liberated from the matrix of my thoughts, feelings, guilt, and my addictions have fallen away. By ‘THE One’, I refer to compatibility. Chemicals react differently to each other. Combining certain elements will create an explosion, energy. One chemical may mimic or be mistaken for another. Some may destroy each other, but in combination with others, they create something new. One chemical will not respond to anything but a particular other. Some are rare, some more common. Certain elements are so intensely attracted to each other that they break all other bonds, destroying anything and everything in between them, just to come together. Love gurus with their manipulation tactics are blind to the real power; persistence of will. The choice between wisdom and folly.

People test you, and love can transform you. Challenges, especially in love, push us to grow. With self-respect, one knows which challenge is worth braving the storm and which to pass on. But it is only possible when the will is stronger than fears. There is a fine line between persistence and harassment. It is not about bending someone’s will, only about making your’ s known, sincerely. In Kazakhstan, the culture of old has been to kidnap the bride. But even then, the groom does not force himself upon her. Her family is then invited to a legal marriage by the kidnapping family. Sounds controversial? Life is controversial. In the Ramanya, the mighty demon King of Lanka kidnapped Sita, beloved wife of Rama. Having her captive in his kingdom, Ravana did not force himself upon her. Sita rejected him and waited for Rama to rescue her. Philosophy and religions still debate how much ‘free will’ we have, or if any. We must, atleast, permit ourselves and others to choose whatever they will. Everyone deserves space. Even the freedom to destroy themselves. How to walk this line and not fall over?

Her choice is more valuable than her. Only that sticks. Extend your hand with love and joy, not out of desperation. Desperation is repelling but true love feels like liberation. Bill kept asking Trisha out every now and then, during their college days. She kept saying no. He would say, “okay”, and ask again. “He was too young for my taste”, she said. Now that their children are grown up, they spend their evening playing golf and drinking margaritas. For the radiating friendship between them, they became my favourite couple to serve. If Bill had turned bitter, could this have been? Your relationship with yourself will dictate all other relationships. Your inner world will be reflected through your tone, if not your words. By the way you move if your eyes hide. By your questions if your answers are filtered. “Just be yourself. Don’t try to force anything and learn from your mistakes.” Classic advice from my Irish professor. Who after a life of priesthood, found Love at 50. Instead of desperation, he turns the depth in his heart to charm. His speech and perspective on life has a flavour of passion. In your heart, you must come to such depth that simply giving her a flower (or whatever you got) is your fulfilment. Then what? If it is taken, you can both dance together. If not, my brother, smile! Bow, turn, and dance on your own. Rejection is redirection. Maybe you offer your hand to art. Maybe to God. Maybe to her again, another day. Or maybe someone else. There is abundant joy in the ability to smile at whatever may be next. You may feel lonely in the dark of night. Or in the light of day, feel like no one understands you. It is normal to feel that void, even necessary. You must penetrate it with self-love. Nothing else will fill it. Even though Love is not a captive of the survival instinct, desire still is the driving force. Naturally, competition is a part of it. The so-called experts do touch on self-improvement but only as a symptom. If they knew the core, they would not be scamming people. Love and Life are to be improvised with, do not be limited by blueprints.

Connect to your authenticity, and you will have the confidence of Gods.

The depth to see opportunities in obstacles, it is the art of perspective you learn from Hell. For those seeking a worthy fight, it is an ascend. Others descend; chased and dragged like prey. Confronting your personal limitations, you gain respect and understanding for others. Prevailing against demonic pressure earns you a bright vibe, a beautiful smile, a shine in your eyes. Loving, and giving becomes easy.

There is a fire inside, the strongest drive.

Mating and belonging are behind most other desires. In India, a tiger’s journey to find a mate was recoded through 3 stages! A male humpback whale crossed oceans to mate with a different population, migrating from South Atlantic to the cost of Africa. Guided by this strong drive, animals confront distance, limits, and even death poetically. On YouTube you can see why and how fiercely wild stallions’ fight.

Loving is Living, and Living is Liberation. The desires to mate, belong, and survive are the strongest drives. And must be honored as sacred. How you Love, is not only shaping your individuality but also our evolution as a species. Be careful who and what you listen to. Dating gurus are not needed. Talk to old people, live a fulfilling life, and get closer to God by being who you are. There is cosmic wisdom in stories. Enjoy not knowing. Be ready to improve. Embrace silence. Make friends with demons. And if you think a gal is bomb, start by giving her a flower.

[anthyies]

sometimes u choose ur classes so they’re all after 10 am and then you have two 8 am finals. because life hates you

[reverie-starlight]

{lovesick - kuroo t.}

“I pictured you with other girls in love… then threw up on the street.”

gn!reader

warnings: fluff!!! minor angst but don’t worry it’s resolved very quick!!! also, despite the lyric I’m using, there’s no throwing up in this fic, just mentions of it/feeling nauseous. I think I debated scrapping this this like 3 times. tried a new writing style (intentional tense changes) lmk what you think!!

...I might actually write for this specific lyric for other characters too, I have a lot of pent up feelings about it clearly...

there comes a point in your relationship with kuroo tetsurou that makes you question everything.

that point, unfortunately, came in your last year of high school when he stared at you a little too intently while you were laughing at one of his stupid jokes. one he’s told many times over the years, but still always managed to get you.

he grinned at you as you calmed down and you hated the way your heart thumped at the lingering amusement and fondness in his eyes.

you hated the way you were both silent after, eyes locked and no words spoken.

you hated the way his expression turned soft as if he had just had come to a satisfying realization. you knew what that meant because you were sure yours was identical.

in that moment, you hated that you had both finally accepted that maybe, just maybe, there was more to your friendship.

because it meant you had even more to lose.

cut to your second year of university. your relationship hadn't really progressed any further than the in between of friends and more.

but that in itself was a step forward because it meant your interactions were had with the unspoken agreement that you would end up together.

you didn't go to the same school anymore- you stayed in tokyo for university and he moved away for his program.

you still saw each other often enough, though, when he would visit home either during free weekends or for holidays.

kenma also stayed in tokyo, at a different university, but he was closer than his best friend that’s for sure. most friday nights were spent with him, either on call with kuroo or physically with him when he visited as kenma played video games.

everything was the same but everything was different.

kenma commented on how gross kuroo’s obvious displays of affection for you were, something he never had to do over the years.

and you'd just ignore him, obviously, but get a little giddy inside that kuroo was being so open with his fond stares and hands that were always touching you somehow.

with that confirmation that maybe you wouldn't lose him, you grew to love how his expressions turned soft for you.

you loved how your heart would beat just a bit faster (often in time with his, as you found out when he would grab your hand and place it over his chest so you could feel his) when you saw each other after a while.

you loved that you were falling in love with him, and accepted the fact that maybe you always were.

along with your excitement that one day kuroo would be yours, there was an underlying fear that you were taking too long with this game you were playing. dancing around each other, teasing, flirting- only with each other, it never extended to other people. but still...

what if he gets bored and finds someone else? what if while he’s away for school, you drift apart? the higher you go with your education, the busier you’re bound to be… what if he stops coming to visit and the dynamic you have now falls apart?

all these thoughts bubble over and make themselves known on a night out a few weeks later.

kuroo’s home again, for a week this time, and you decide to get a group of people together at a club. included are bokuto and akaashi, kenma opting to pass for his games, and one of your friends from high school.

you’re slightly drunk, giggling with her about one thing or another when the topic of conversation turns to him. she looks over at him, dancing with bokuto, as akaashi watches them from the sidelines, exasperated.

“you’re pretty good friends with kuroo, right?” she asks.

a dopey grin makes its way onto your face at the mention of his name (against your will) and you nod.

“well get this- my friend goes to the same university as him, they have a class together, and she’s thinking of asking him out after the break.”

your face falls and you’re sucked into a state of panic.

realistically, you have nothing to worry about. if earlier that day was any indication of how kuroo still felt about you, he would turn this girl down. his warm hands on your cheeks as he pressed kisses to your forehead in greeting at the train station. his hand in yours when you walked from the car to your apartment where he’s staying for the week.

(the logical thing to do here would be to tell her that you and kuroo are unofficially a thing, so he's kind of off limits, but you're too tipsy for logic at this point.)

"do you think he's looking for anything right now?"

your friend tries to get your attention, but you can't hear her. you stare at him from across the room and pictures of him cuddled up with this stranger flash through your mind, kissing her how you've always wished he'd kiss you, being pushed to the sidelines in his life as he moves on-

before she can call out to you again, you’re already dashing to the washroom, nausea settling into your stomach at the thought of him possibly falling in love with someone else. you haven’t had enough alcohol to make you sick, which makes it all worse. this feeling is here because you're in love. and want him to be yours. and he might be ripped away from you.

some might call it a newly developed strain of lovesickness.

you’re unaware that he follows you after seeing you dash in between him and bokuto.

you lock yourself in the large stall and crouch to the ground, head in your hands. making an attempt to steady your breathing, you inhale deeply and exhale slowly.

a knock on your stall can be heard. "y/n? are you in here?"

"yeah." your voice is quiet, but thankfully the music has faded to a dull thumping so he's able to hear it.

"can I come in?"

you don't know how to answer that, but you ponder on it for a second too long, apparently, because now he's stepping onto the toilet seat of the next stall over and climbing over into yours.

you look up at him pitifully and he sighs. "what's up, buttercup?"

there's no use waiting any longer. you tug on his sleeve and he moves closer, wrapping an arm around you. "my friend's friend wants to ask you out after the break and I felt sick just thinking about it."

you don't look at him when you say it, but you can hear the barely contained joy in his voice at your confession. "yeah? you don't want me to date anyone else? you finally staking your claim on me?"

he pulls you closer to him when you nod. "good. I was getting worried I'd have to be the one to give in first."

you slap his arm and he laughs. "tetsurou," you say.

"hmm?"

"I'm not going to be the one to ask you officially, that's on you."

"that's fine, I was going to anyway. I've been waiting a long time for this, baby."

you finally look up at him. "yeah?"

he grins down at you and the look in his eyes has once again gone completely soft, just for you. "oh yeah."

he shifts a bit until you're both facing each other on the (probably dirty) bathroom floor of a tiny club in tokyo and asks the question you've been yearning to hear since that day in your last year of high school.

"y/n, will you do me the honour of officially being mine?"

"well obviously," you say and finally kiss him.

BONUS:

kuroo's last day at your apartment came far too quickly.

but the days after your confession were the best days you've ever spent with him. neither of you wanted to say goodbye, conversations were had about doing semi-long distance and you were both more than willing.

that didn't stop you from trying to get him to stay in your bed a bit longer.

"y/n, come on, I have to get ready to go to the train station," he laughed as you clung to him.

"no." was your only response, and you wrapped around him even tighter. he was sitting on the edge of your bed, trying to put a shirt on, but your arms were locked around his torso.

"baby, please, I promise if you let me get up and dressed at the very least I'll come back and we can cuddle a bit longer.

he felt you smile a bit into his skin at the use of the pet name. he had been experimenting with them throughout the week and he had concluded based on your reactions to them that baby always made you smile and look away, sweetheart made you nuzzle into him and whine, and the one time he called you gorgeous you shivered and almost dropped a glass of water out of excitement. of course there were others that had good reactions, so he had a full arsenal of names to call you now.

"hmmm, but tetsurou, we both know that you could have easily gotten me off of you by now if that's what you really wanted,"

however nothing compared to how he absolutely melted into you whenever you said his name like that, in that tone.

he turned and pounced on you, reveling in your giggly shrieks as he nibbled on your neck. your arms wrapped around his bare shoulders.

"if I'm late it's going to be your fault, sweetheart, and I will make you regret it."

"so menacing, I'm terrified- NO!" you were cut off by a new string of laughter and pleading for him to stop as his hands attacked your sides.

if being late meant more time to hear your laugh and feel your skin, maybe kuroo would just give in and catch the 5 o'clock train instead.

[donnerpartyofone]

Many contentious, annoying things are happening this morning, so I am choosing to focus only on the piece of clickbait I'm seeing every 4 or 5 posts that just straight up says Keanu Reeves is dead. They didn't even go with the bait & switch of "Celebrities We Lost This Year" plus a random picture of someone like Chris Pratt who is definitely alive just to force the click, they're directly referring to Keanu by name as being deceased--and then there's this peculiarly nasty byline that goes "Hollywood favors couldn't save him from a tragic fate" as if universally beloved icon Keanu Reeves were previously only alive unfairly because of sleazy backdoor rich guy deals and and now we can all be smugly satisfied that he met with the Great Equalizer like a regular jagoff. Like that's the Keanu Reeves story, that's how we all feel about him.

Spam, phishing, and the like fascinate me because it seems like in the majority of cases it's always incredibly primitive and hasn't evolved at all in the decades since the internet became popularly accessible. In this case, the Keanu Reeves death announcement appears to be sponsored by a made-up textile store, and links to a website called Debut Allbum (sic). And like I know the point of clickbait is to force you to look at ads, but the really criminal forms of spam that are straight up larceny are also this stupid. I love that screenshot going around of a threatening text message somebody received from "The IRS" demanding they pay their back taxes by navigating to Caliente Burrito dot com or something. They're all like that, it's like they're not even remotely trying. It feels like they all use some program that dynamically generates Random Threat/Promise + Random Link Text, and not one single person in the entire process has ever said "Maybe the message and the link should appear to be related? Maybe more people will fall for our scary message about their auto insurance if it doesn't come from celebrity.nudes-113agJFd89@gmail.com?"

I have a burning desire for a documentary about these kinds of bottomfeeder internet scams. I'm dying to hear from the people who operate them. It seems obvious that the scams don't cost much to run, but do they really turn such a big profit that it would be a waste of resources to try to improve them, to make them even slightly more convincing than not-at-all? Or is it that the people who run these things are really, genuinely as stupid as they seem according to the typo-riddled emails I get insisting that I need to pay the United States Postal Service to reroute my withheld mail by entering my bank information at McDonald's Gift Card dot com? It's funny to think that whoever creates this stuff has enough technical knowledge to execute on it, but not the intelligence necessary to stop the resulting spam from just being word salad. Who are these people?

Of course the inevitable next question is, how are they able to get away with it? The whole situation is so paradoxical. It's like, you have a criminal who is dumb enough to create/pay for the creation of spam that is just a bunch of surreal nonsense, but who is using technology/services sophisticated enough to evade detection and prosecution. And/or our law enforcement machinery is too far behind or too stupid itself to catch even the dumbest crook. It's crazy how we live in the future with all these scientific advantages and an ever-escalating speed of information transmission, yet it feels like nothing about the basic issue human being has changed, and we're all just a bunch of neanderthals trying to navigate a world that is increasingly out of scale for us.

[missmentelle]

What is reactive abuse?

“Reactive abuse” occurs when the victim of abuse lashes out at their abuser - by striking back at them, screaming, swearing at them, insulting them or even throwing something at them - in response to the abuse that they are experiencing. This is actually an extremely common behaviour in domestic violence victims, and it’s one of the most important tools an abuser has for convincing other people that the victim is the real abuser in the relationship, and that the abuser is actually the one being abused.��

Consider these scenarios:

Scenario 1: Sam is abusive to his partner, Erin. He constantly criticizes and belittles her, although he never raises his voice and always does so in a calm, matter-of-fact way. He tells her that her clothes are too revealing for her, and that she should go put on some baggy clothes until she’s lost some weight. He comments on everything she eats and asks if she “really needs” to be eating it. He compares her to his friends’ wives and asks why she can’t look like them. He talks down to her like she’s stupid, and criticizes her cooking, her cleaning, her spending, and her appearance. After weeks of relentless criticism, Erin snaps - she screams at Sam to fuck off and leave her alone, and locks herself in her room. 

Scenario 2: John is abusive to his partner, Raj. John likes to physically intimidate Raj by looming over him, backing him into corners, standing in doorways to prevent him from leaving, and punching holes in walls and smashing things when he gets angry. One day, during an argument, John grabs Raj by the arm and starts screaming in his face. Raj tells John to let go of him, but John ignores him and instructs Raj to “look at me when I’m talking to you”. Desperate to get away, Raj shoves John in the chest as hard as he can, and John falls backwards. 

In these scenarios, Erin and Raj are the ones lashing out... but they are also the victims in these situations, and not the perpetrators. These are examples of reactive abuse; they are lashing out because they are under extreme stress from being constantly abused, not because they are abusive themselves. If they were in a non-abusive relationship, they wouldn’t scream or shove their partners - it’s the abuse itself that is driving them to behave that way. 

Once a victim begins to display reactive abuse, the abuser will almost always use it against them. The abuser will constantly bring up the reactive abuse, presenting it as evidence that the victim is unstable and irrational, and that they themselves are actually the victim of their partner’s totally unpredictable behaviours and moods. Sam, for instance, can use Erin’s outburst as “proof” that she’s the abusive one in the relationship - when he talks about the incident, he can say “I was just trying to have a calm, rational conversation with her and she started screaming at me out of the blue. I tried to calm her down but she just wouldn’t listen - she told me to fuck off and then locked me out of our bedroom for hours. I feel like I’m walking on eggshells around her, anything can set her off”. 

Bringing up reactive abuse is a way for the abuser to win the sympathy of friends and family, turn people against the victim, and leave the victim even more isolated. They can even convince professionals that the victim is the abusive one, and use that as a weapon against the victim - if Sam goes to a therapist and gives a biased account of Erin’s “totally irrational” screaming fit, it’s very likely that the therapist will take his side and tell him what he wants to hear. Then he can truthfully come home and tell Erin that his therapist thinks she’s toxic and abusive, and that Sam shouldn’t have to put up with her. 

Eventually, constantly being told that you’re the abusive one - with several real-life examples listed as evidence - will probably start to convince you that you really are the abusive one in the relationship, even if you are genuinely the victim. Raj, for instance, has now actually hit his partner - that’s a line that John has never crossed, even through John is the physically abusive partner and Raj is the victim. It’s going to be very easy for John to use that against Raj, and convince Raj that he’s the real abuser, especially since Raj’s self-esteem is probably already poor from being in an abusive relationship. Once Raj starts to believe that maybe he really is the abusive one after all, it’s going to be much easier for John to control him, and it’ll be much harder for him to escape the relationship - he’ll no longer feel like he “deserves” or qualifies for help from domestic violence agencies, he’ll be inclined to blame himself for the issues in the relationship, and he may even start to feel like he should be grateful to John for staying with him and “trying to help him”. 

Some other important things to know about reactive abuse:

Reactive abuse is NOT mutual abuse. “Mutual abuse” is the term for a relationship where both people are abusers going into it, and both people abuse each other equally and are equally to blame for the abuse in the relationship. That’s not what this is. For one thing, mutual abuse is extremely rare, to the point that experts aren’t totally convinced that it exists - abuse requires a power dynamic where one person tries to assume control over the other, and that power dynamic just doesn’t work both ways. A person who commits reactive abuse is not an abuser - they are a person under extreme stress, and they stop reacting that way as soon as they are out of the abusive relationship. A genuine abuser shows the same pattern of abusive behaviour in all of their relationships, over and over again. 

Almost everyone will commit reactive abuse in certain circumstances. If you kick a dog enough times, the dog will eventually bite you. Some will bite you quicker, some will take longer to bite you, but they will all bite you at some point. Being under extreme stress changes a person - when you live with that kind of abuse day in and day out, the strain of it will eventually start to affect you in profound ways, and cause you to lash out and doing things you would never do otherwise. There’s nothing you can really do to cope with that kind of abuse in a healthy way while it’s still happening- the only way to recover is to leave. Many survivors of domestic abuse say that they barely recognized themselves near the end of the relationship, and did not know the person that they became after years of enduring abuse. 

People who have committed reactive abuse are not abusers. A person who has committed reactive abuse under extreme circumstances is not a danger to their future partners. Again, pretty much everyone will commit reactive abuse if they are pushed to the brink by months or years of relentless abuse - when someone is no longer being subjected to that abuse, they no longer have a reason to lash out. The fact that you’ll throw a punch while you’re being attacked by a coyote does not mean that you are likely to go home and punch your pets; the fact that you will commit violence in one very extreme and dangerous circumstance does not mean that you will commit violence in normal circumstances. 

Reactive abuse is one of the reasons why regular therapy is not recommended for abusers. When abusers learn more about abuse and boundaries in regular therapy, they don’t recognize their own abusive tendencies - they just get better at accusing their victims of being the real abusers. They are uniquely skilled at weaponizing therapy and therapy language to convince the people around them that their partner is irrational and that they, the abuser, are actually the long-suffering victim. An abuser who is actually serious about getting help needs to do so from a specialized abuser program - they need a professional who is knowledgeable about reactive abuse and will say “hmmmm, but what were you saying to Erin BEFORE she yelled at you? I don’t think you’re the victim here.”

As always, if you suspect that you may be in an abusive relationship, it’s important to seek help - there is help available to you, even in the midst of a pandemic. Call your local domestic violence hotline, contact a local domestic violence agency, or call 211 in Canada or the USA to learn about local options in your area.  Hope this answers your question! MM

[codenamesazanka]

Unpopular opinion meme time. Kurogiri is not any kind of father figure to Shigaraki Tomura, The idea that he was secretly struggling against his conditioning by hugging Shigaraki and being kind to him every time All For One turned around. is pure fanon. Self-indulgent fanon, at that.

Somewhat depends on the definition of 'father figure', since no one in fandom knows what that means anymore, but otherwise, yes. Kurogiri was Shigaraki's babysitter and I don't doubt he cared for Tomura, but being a substitute dad? Nah.

Even considering in the whole 'reprogrammed Noumu' thing, fact is that Kurogiri's first loyalty is to All For One. He reports to All For One and obeys his commands regarding Shigaraki Tomura.

Maybe one can argue this happened so early in the series that maybe the characterization haven't been established firmly yet, but we see at the end of the first arc where Shigaraki and Kurogiri shows up, in Chapter 21, that Kurogiri lets Shigaraki bleed on the floor to answer AFO and the Doctor's questions.

Later, we see that Kurogiri and AFO hold private conversations about what to do about Shigaraki, and while Kurogiri does say he will find Gigantomachia "all for your (Shigaraki Tomura) sake", it's because AFO told him to do so. And Kurogiri's next words to Gran Torino says a lot too:

"Tomura Shigaraki wasn't the only one he molded." Other translation could be 'raised', 'trained', 'grew'; but in context with the next line "Meet another one of AFO's loyal servants," it speaks to Kurogiri's awareness that Shigaraki is another pet project, another cultivated weapon. A valuable one that Kurogiri faithfully takes care of as possible successor, but Kurogiri knows ultimately they all belong to AFO.

So yeah! I agree that Kurogiri fighting his programming to love Shigaraki Tomura is kinda... wishful fanon. Again, it's not that I don't think Kurogiri holds no genuine feelings for Shigaraki Tomura, but it's definitely not to the levels of Dad!giri.

Plus, over on Shigaraki's end too, his attitude towards Kurogiri is rather harsh, even if as Toga and Twice points out, he misses mist man. Definitely ruder than he ever was towards AFO or the Doctor, and his go-to insult for Kurogiri is 'stupid'. We don't know for sure, but I personally think this means Shigaraki knows Kurogiri is a Noumu - just a very smart one. Maybe he has reservations over that. (My personal headcanon is that Shigaraki treats Kurogiri like an AI.)

In canon, it seems like their power dynamic is also one that's muddled and I wish that was explored more. Shigaraki Tomura can order Kurogiri around as his personal assistant and he treats him as such, and Kurogiri obeys; but Kurogiri is also Tomura's watcher for both of their master AFO. There's a divide between them and I think it's a pity to ignore that in favor of "Give Shigaraki Generic Adoring Father Figure".

Thanks for the ask! Hope you have a good day!

[sunjaesol]

My BFB is the one for me!

juke | human!au + brother!reggie | title from BFB // victorious

If someone had to ask her who the one constant in her life was, she would have to say Luke Patterson. Which was depressing, cause the guy went through life pretending to be a 90s heartthrob and, even worse, that list didn't even include her own mother. 

Julie met Luke when she was five and he was six. Her brother Reggie befriended him on the first day of school and the rest was history. "Soul-brothers" they called themselves, which would be cute if they weren't so obnoxious together. Separate, they were somewhat manageable. Put those two in the same room? Chaos would ensue. 

He was there for it all. Weekly play dates, birthdays, the occasional holiday, her mom's funeral, band rehearsals. And when Luke had a month-long falling out with his parents, he stayed with them. 

Realistically, that should make him seem like a brother to Julie. But neither Carlos or Reggie were as infuriating as Luke was! With the stupid band tees and the stupid smile and the stupid, relentless teasing he lovingly bestowed upon her. She lost count how many times he "poisoned" her soda with salt or woke her with a heart attack by playing his electric guitar. At least she had some grip on her brothers, being their only sister, but Luke… 

Luke and her had this interesting, little relationship that she couldn't quite put her finger on and it unnerved her. Like it was an itch she couldn't scratch. (Or maybe he was just an annoying mosquito buzzing around her and should leave her the fuck alone. Probably.)

Hopping down the stairs for her midnight snack, it was no surprise to her to find the idiot gaping into the fridge like a goon. With a nudge of the hip, she pushed him aside. 

'Hey!' 

'Either pick something or save power,' she retorted, grabbing a bowl of grapes. 

He snorted. 'I don't think my indecisiveness is gonna kill the planet.'

She shot him a look, an amused smile tugging on her lips. 'You wanna say that in the cute face of a polar bear?' 

Luke stared at her for a beat, a smile crawling on his own face and shaking his head with a chuckle. The fridge fell shut with the pride of a won argument swelling in her chest. 

'So why're you still up?', he asked as she flitted around him for the bread and peanut butter. Maybe she could sneak up a butterscotch cookie too - her dad won't notice one missing, right? 

Unscrewing the lid, she sighed. 'Mendoza's class is murdering me. I really don't get why we need to learn calculus. We're an arts school, not like any of us are going to use formulas on the set of a movie.'

When she passed him to get the orange juice from the fridge, he took hold of the jar, sliding it between his hands thoughtfully. 

'Just don't overthink it,' he shrugged. 

She rolled her eyes. 'Easy for you, obviously.'

His mouth fell slack, offended, as Julie put the bottle on the island with mirth glimmering in her expression. After years of sparring with Luke, she knew how to press his buttons and took great joy in doing so. 

Suddenly leaning into her personal bubble, he sputtered. 'Are you… calling me dumb?' 

Her hand pushed his face back with a scoff. 'Don't breathe on me. All I'm saying is that you look like you have elevator music playing up there 24/7.'

When she went to grab the jar from his hand, he moved it away. 

'Uh, I think you're mistaking me for your brother.'

'No-' Tried again, moved away. '-I don't think I do.'

'You do.'

She crossed her arms, resolute. 'He's part of the gifted program.'

It unfazed him. 'Yeah. And it means shit.'

She held her palm up, exasperated. 'Just give me the peanut butter, Luke.'

Raising it over his head with an infuriating smirk, the other tugged on a curl. 'No.'

Gah! He was so dead! Did he forget she lived with three men in this house?!

Without a second of hesitation, Julie barrelled into him and jumped to catch it. Luke snatched her wrist before she could with a laugh, a hitched puff coming right after as her elbow jabbed his ribs. 

He set the jar down at lightning speed and grabbed her other wrist. Both their arms were outstretched as her foot kicked his calf, hard. When he yelped, her left hand loosened and dove for the jar. Right as her fingertips grazed the glass, a strong arm snaked around her waist and pulled her back. An "oof!" left her lips, the breath kicked out of her lungs. 

Luke guffawed in her ear victoriously, whooping the house together. Curse words rolled off her tongue as she repeatedly slapped his forearm to let go. She felt embarrassingly small with her feet hovering above the floor and this power dynamic was not doing it for her confidence. 

'The fuck are you doing?' 

Julie smacked to the floor before the last words were uttered, a flabbergasted Reggie staring at the pair. 

Luke stammered. 'Uh…' 

'Your bestie held the peanut butter hostage,' Julie replied sardonically. 'Did dad wake up?' 

He shook his head, a peculiar expression fixed on Luke. Her gaze shot between the two. Were they having… a silent conversation? With the way their brows quirked an lips twitched, it seemed like some "bro-talk" Julie wouldn't even like to understand. 

'Don't break your head too much over Mendoza, okay?' Reggie added, smiling at her this time. 'Just relax.'

She sighed. Relax. Because the fear of failure got eradicated with the snap of a finger if she just relaxed. 'Yeah. Sure.'

The boys finally left, silence descended, and Julie made her sandwich. For some reason, the quietude made her uncomfortable. 

***

Though Luke was annoying at times, the band he was in - Sunset Curve - definitely wasn't. Reggie, Alex and Luke created it when they were thirteen and overzealous. Reggie and Luke met Alex the same year and bullied him into a friendship, all bonding over cliché lyrics and overused chord progressions. They quickly got better though, earning a small following and a hopeful future in the LA scene. Julie was very proud of her brother. All those hours practicing the bass until his fingers bled was finally paying off with each new gig they rocked. 

And as the Molina's were raised to appreciate good music, Julie often found herself sprawled on the leather couch as they rehearsed. Reggie used to hate it, saying she was being "sticky" and "distracting", but eventually found her useful whenever they needed someone to bounce ideas with. She has co-written many of their songs. It was then that Luke was the least annoying, when he was so entranced and passionate about music that he had no time to pester her. 

(If she were honest with herself, she'd admit that song-writing with Luke was when she felt like herself the most, enjoyed life the most. But Luke was stupid and she definitely didn't feel a vibe when they wrote, so honesty was obsolete.)

'Or else you'll get,' Luke growled in the mic, music crashing together in their signature punk-rock sound. 'Crooked teeth!' 

They shot into an electrifying interlude. Alex headbanging the sweat of his forehead from his fast-paced drumming, Reggie bouncing in his heels as he heightened the bassline and Luke… was being Luke. Julie looked up from her laptop as his strumming came closer, that signature grin fixed on her as his fingers expertly glided across the neck. Her typing paused, amused. 

Why was he so adamant about "impressing" her with a riff? He knew she liked their music (and has caught her looking at his hands… ugh, fourteen year old Julie had bad judgement), he didn't have to prove himself or something. 

She smiled. 'You're going to miss your cue, idiot!' 

Ignoring her exclaim, he bobbed his head to the melody and wiggled his brows. Her eyes drifted to Alex, the blonde staring at Reggie and Reggie staring at the back of Luke's head. This has been happening a lot, Julie realised. There was this weird energy whenever they were all in the same room. For a bit, she thought it was her that was the problem, but if she was, Reggie would've told her by now. 

Now Luke was really in her face, pushing her laptop shut with his knee and making those stupid expressions he pulled whenever Grace talked to him in the hallway. Never one to back down, Julie abruptly stood up and pushed him back with a challenging smirk. The boy was seventeen; he was in serious trouble if he lacked the spatial awareness and common sense. 

‘Sing with us?!’, he pleaded over the crash of the cymbal. Behind him, Alex’ brows went so far up it disappeared into his snapback. A nervous tug knotted in her stomach at his request, like she was afraid to disappoint him, and shook her head. Keeping up the attitude she nodded at the laptop he so valiantly closed for her. 

Pulling it against her chest, she pointed at his bandmates. ‘Go sing about some fucked up teeth more!’

‘Crooked teeth!’, they all yelled in annoyance. Proud to have executed her role an irritating, little sister, she hopped out the studio. If she felt someone’s gaze burning in her back, she must’ve imagined it.  

***

There was something to be said about Grace and Luke. Though it wasn’t Julie’s business (or anyone’s, for that matter), the coupling has always intrigued her. Or lack of coupling, really. Every few months they’d find themselves at each other’s lockers flirting up a storm for everyone to see to then ghost each other again. This vicious cycle has been on loop since sophomore year. Julie felt bad for Grace, the pretty senior girl deserved far better than Luke. 

Last night, Julie couldn’t sleep. “Crooked Teeth” was blaring in her mind and haunted her dreams (and Luke’s stupid face) until she woke up in a sweat. Something was off. Like solving a math question and knowing the result is wrong but unsure where it all went wrong. Around four in the morning, it hit her. The bridge! It was all jumbled and clunky and she had far better ideas on how to craft it! She sat at her keyboard until seven in the morning, only to stop when a frustrated Carlos barged in, threw a pillow at her and yelled to “zip it!” Reggie and dad, naturally, slept through all of it. 

Now, a sleep-deprived, caffeinated and kind of manic Julie was bustling through the hallways trying (and failing) to find Luke. Sure, they butted heads a lot, but music has always been the glue. Temporary glue, but the fact remained that she and Luke were cut from the same cloth when it came to composition and lyrical prowess. (Not that she’d ever admit that. Ew. His ego was large enough as is.) 

And then she saw him. At Grace’s locker. Her breath lodged in her throat at the sight. It shouldn’t. God, it truly shouldn’t. But it did. Because Grace was pretty and Luke had one of those faces and they looked good together and it annoyed the fuck out of her. Like, who decided who went through puberty better. Julie knew she wasn’t unattractive, but she wasn’t Grace either. Tall and lithe and glossy black hair and a perfect nose. The ugly, green monster in the back of her head snarled about how her personality was probably off-putting, though Julie knew that to be untrue. Grace was, well, graceful. Genuinely kind. Gah! Since when did Julie hate on other girls? Pushing the voice down, she mustered back the previous excitement (the! bridge!) and paraded towards the pair. Luke saw her before Grace did.       

She rushed the last few steps and hastily grabbed the papers from the side pocket of her backpack. 'Luke! Hi, Grace. Okay, I know "Crooked Teeth" is finished, but I couldn't stop thinking about it and I had this amazing idea for the bridge.'

When he didn't react for a beat, stunned by her giddy attitude, her smile mellowed awkwardly. 'I mean… it's your song. You don't have to-' 

'No!', he shouted, frantic. Her brows raised in surprise. 'No, uh-' His hand flew to the back of his head, raking the ends of his hair. 'Yeah. D'you wanna go to the music room? To show me?'

Julie’s eyes flitted to a confused Grace. ‘Um…’

Luke caught on and shot the girl an easy grin. ‘Talk to you later, yeah?’ 

She shrugged. ‘I guess?’

Before she could say anything more, Luke snatched Julie by the wrist and dragged her to the nearest, open music room. The arts school was littered with them, though most had a reserved schedule. Luckily, one was empty. 

‘Okay,’ she said, tucking her hair behind her ears as she slid down in front of the piano. Luke sat next to her, expectant. ‘The bridge right now? It’s fine, but it’s not “wow”, you know? I was thinking about how the verses and chorus sound so visceral and loud, so the bridge should have something guttural. Like, primal. That’s a weird word to use, but, I don’t know, have it sound dangerous? Like - why’re you looking at me like that?’

A strange expression was plastered on Luke’s face. A half-grin and wide eyes, like he was scared he’d miss something, like he’d blink and she’d disappear. In other words: he looked insane. Then again, her exhaustion mustn’t look too appealing either. 

He shook his head, that smile falling away for something more timid. All the bravado he oozed while talking to Grace just moments before, was gone for shy eyes and fingers gripping the chain around his jeans. 

‘Nothing.’ He nudged her. ‘You kinda ambushed me here, Molina.’

Her words stuttered out. ‘I- I was just-’ Zeroing back on the keys with a frown, she said: ‘I’ll just play you the bridge.’

As she did, her mind was elsewhere. This wasn’t weird, right? They’ve done this before. Collaborated, gone to music rooms to bounce ideas back and forth, played until dusk. She knew it wasn’t weird. It was always just a matter of time before the next “ambush” came, as he put it. Soon, he’d barge into her room with half a melody and forced her to finish it. This was normal.

Then why did her skin ripple with anticipation from his intense gaze directed on her temple? 

When she finished, she kept her eyes on the keys. Suddenly, his hand appeared in her vision and softly patted her knuckles, urging her to look at him anyway. He had that strange look again, the sight letting the most peculiar feeling rush through her veins.   

Luke smiled. ‘I like it.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Wanna play it for the boys during next rehearsal?’ His brows raised with hope, head leaning her way as if he wasn’t already close enough. And he wasn’t close enough. 

Julie went on autopilot at this point, too enthralled by her emotions running wild. ‘Yeah.’ It came out breathy and foolish and if she had half a brain cell right now, she’d kick herself in the face for how dumb she sounded.  

His hand squeezed hers and then let go, that smile turning nervous. Oh God, did he notice how weird she abruptly got? ‘Cool. Sweet. Perfect. Your- this was perfect. I’ll see you, uh, -’

‘Yeah,’ she squeaked. ‘Whenever.’

When he left the room in a hurry, her face planted itself on the keys and erupted a harsh sound. Fitting, she believed. Her mind was a mess too. 

***

Then stuff began piling on and each time it did, Julie’s heart fluttered like the traitorous bitch it was. 

Like when Luke told her to tell calculus to “bite her” as a joke, but then she actually did during a test and somehow didn’t get a black out. She knew it was likely just a placebo, but the grin she earned later on when she showed him the B+ and he gave her the tightest hug was worth the pseudo-science. 

Or he found her in the hallway whenever they both had a free period and casual small talk turned to slamming each other into lockers or, more recently, pulled her outside to get boba from the place right across the street. Their boba hangouts were probably the strangest development of all, but it was… nice. Pleasant. If she ever secretly thought it was a date, then it must’ve been a sun stroke hitting her. 

Or she’d be doing her homework and he’d waltz into her room (because he was always at their house and that never changed) and randomly help her with a task or question. It was small and it usually slowed her down, but she hasn’t had the guts to turn him away either. She blamed his stupid smile. 

Or just yesterday they were all in the kitchen and she was peering over Reggie’s shoulder as he tried and failed to properly text his crush Kayla, when she said: 

‘Isn’t that weird? That you’re talking to a junior?’

Luke, who was looking over his other shoulder, scoffed. ‘Why would that be weird?’

Pointing at the emoji he should be using (the purple heart - duh!), she shrugged. ‘I don’t know. You just don’t see a lot of people date outside of their year. It’s, like, an unspoken rule.’

Reggie pouted. ‘Not helping, Jules.’

‘I am! Use the purple heart!’

Luke snorted. ‘Please, if you were asked out by some senior boy, you’d say no?’

The Molina’s looked up from the phone to shoot him a weird look. The boy shrunk under their stare, fingers nervously drumming island. 

Caution tinged her voice. ‘I don’t know… should I?’

The boys stared at each other for a beat. That “bro-talk” again, Julie presumed with a roll of the eye. Typical.

‘Yes,’ Luke trailed, unsure. ‘You should say no.’

A ball of disappointment dropped to the pit of her stomach at his words - hard. Oh. So he didn’t mean himself then. Julie froze. Why would she even want that? She was not returning to her fourteen year old self that gawked at Luke like an idiot. Nope. Not happening. Just because she felt flushed and ecstatic every Wednesday afternoon when they schedules lined up, that didn’t mean her crush has resurfaced. Totally. 

But then something even more maddening happened. It was Thursday afternoon, right before lunch, when Nick approached her by her locker. She’d been fervently texting a sick Flynn to get better when he started asking about dance class and how on earth he was supposed to master a calypso by Monday next week. He was clearly stressed and Julie gave him a hug. Just as she was going to offer her help (or redirect him to Kayla, as she was an actual dance goddess), a familiar arm draped around her shoulder and pulled her back. 

Julie was fuming. Luke decided to start acting like some jovial prick as he intimidated Nick with all these terror stories about his own dance assignments from last year and that “a calypso was just the beginning.” The poor guy was practically passed out from anxiety by the time his spiel was over. She couldn’t even yell an apology as he sped off and spun around the corner at lightning speed.        

The arm fell away, Luke stared at her ridden with guilt, muttered some half-assed “sorry” and rushed off in the opposite direction. A baffled, angry Julie was left standing there. 

If Luke thought he could be some white knight, he was dead wrong. 

***

She got lucky. Reggie mentioned beforehand Luke was coming over and knew that he, inevitably, would ascend the stairs. A pent-up Julie paced in her room, feeling that fever pitch come to a boiling point. Argh! Why was he so… infuriating?! (And attractive?! And charismatic?! Argh!) 

Then she heard it. His tentative steps up the steps. Like he knew. The fact that she was seemingly predictable left her cold this time, slamming her door open at just the right moment to snatch his wrist and roughly yank him inside. 

Before he could react, she yelled: 'What the hell, Luke?! Why did you do that?' 

Luke was a stammering, embarrassed mess. Good. 'Uh- I- I-' 

'You can't just act all overprotective or possessive like that! What's your problem with Nick? He's super nice and, you know, my friend. I already have two brothers, I don’t need one more!’

'I-'

'You don't get to decide who I talk with! Or save me or whatever fantasy you were living in! And-!' 

'I like you, Jules,' he blurted. 

Julie was blazing though. 'So? That doesn't mean that-' Until the words dried on her tongue, stunned. All else she had prepared to say flew out the window. The constant fluttering in her heart hitched. Did she… hear him correctly? 'W-what?' 

A beat went by, like he couldn’t believe he actually said that, but then word vomit spewed out. 'I- I like you? Like, on and off since I was eleven and I tried to not like you - I really tried - but you're just incredible and pretty and an amazing singer and you keep doing that thing with your lips when you have a thought and it's been killing me seeing Nick shoot his shot and-' 

Julie dove forward and pressed a kiss on his rambling mouth. Stretched on her tippy toes, she saw him freeze and stare at her in wonder. Slowly, her poor heart began to beat again, fast and fond and for him and oh my God, what was happening? 

'Did you just-', he croaked. 

Shit. Should she have asked to kiss him first? Her hands didn't leave his shoulders, alarmed. 'Uh… you just kept talking and-' She swallowed back her nerves and mustered a smile. 'If you wanted to be my boyfriend, you could've just asked.'

Luke blinked, completely in awe by her words. 'What?' 

Alright. Time to take life by the balls, Molina. 

'You didn't think I might like you back?' 

An incredulous laugh puffed from his lips, looking from her hands on his shoulders and then grabbed onto her waist. Jitters burst in her stomach at the sudden touch. This was actually happening. Holy shit. But God, how could she deny that bright smile and his warm smile and that giddy feeling that rippled her skin each time they hung out? 

'Can we try that again?', he breathed. 

His grin captured hers before she could fully nod, his hands slipping to her lower back and jaw without hesitation. Her arms slung around his neck, finally getting a feel for his soft locks of hair. Heat grew from her chest to her toes, curling from bliss. She felt deliciously empty and full of glee all at once. 

Her back fell against the door with a giggle. Just as he went back in, she pressed a finger on his lips. 

'Still doesn't make it right what you did.' 

'Yeah.' He kissed her again. 'Sorry.'

She tried saying more, but each word was muffled by another warm kiss of his intoxicating lips and all she could do was melt against him. The odd lyric that “heaven was his lips and larger than paradise” passed her by, hopefully reminding her of its existence in an hour or two. 

His fingers slipped under her shirt and dug into her heated skin. They became lazier, the kisses open-mouthed and smiling and already so amazing at first try. Julie has kissed a handful of boys before, but this? Unmatched. 

Two sudden knocks against wood. ‘Julie?’

They froze, Julie slapping a hand over his mouth to stifle his inevitable snicker. 

‘Have you seen Luke?’, Reggie continued, confusion lacing his voice. 

‘No!’, her voice squeaked, still affected by their make-out. Cringing, she tried to level it. ‘Uh, maybe he’s gone to the, uh-’ His lips grazed her neck, teasingly. She pinched his arm, but he didn’t lean back. Asshole. ‘-uh…’

‘Julie? Everything okay?’

‘Yeah! Yeah! I’m fine!’ Julie pushed Luke back again, this time the boy giving her some space. The wolfish smirk he was sporting was one she either wanted to slap or kiss away. ‘Maybe he’s in the bathroom? Annoying Carlos? The studio?’ Not my room!  

They held in their breaths as they waited for a reply. Her mind was failing to catch up to what she’s just done. Here she was, with flushed lips and tingling skin from Luke’s actions as her brother was meandering on the other side of the door. How did she end up here? 

He blew a raspberry. ‘Okay…’ They sighed. ‘When you’re done making out, can you force Luke to start our project? Kind of an important assignment.’

Luke’s face crashed into pure horror, mouth falling agape and skin pale as a ghost. Julie snorted despite herself, dropping her head on his shoulder in an attempt to muffle her giggles but failing horribly. Of course, Reggie knew. His dreamy nature made anyone forget how observant he actually was, yet here he instantly he had his pulse on the facts. Or he’s always known about Luke’s crush on her. Probably both. 

Her smile stretched against the fabric of his shirt. Luke had a crush on her. Luke liked her. 

Reggie’s footsteps faded away, his bedroom door falling shut. Their gazes met again. 

Luke gulped, green eyes wide and oh so adorable. ‘He took that surprisingly well.’

Her chin raised, haughty. She hasn’t forgotten about that infuriating face of his just one minute before. ‘You kissed my neck.’

That look returned as he hummed, edging closer. ‘I did.’

‘You’re an asshole, you know that?’

His face brightened at her words, weaving a hand through her and making her sigh just like that. She was gone and she didn’t even know it. ‘And you’re-’ he murmured, softly kissing her lips, ‘-into that.’

How desperately she wanted to keep this going, she has heard what Reggie said. An important project due. She shouldn’t trouble her brother like that, even if making out with his best friend was far more appealing than anything else in the world right now.

The measly words puffed out. ‘You have-’ kiss ‘-a project-’ kiss ‘-with Reggie.’ kiss.  

‘Hmm…’ Letting her stand between his legs to be even closer and consequently shutting down any rationale, Luke mumbled against her lips: ‘One more minute.’

In the end, Luke stayed for another thirty minutes before Reggie barged in, dragged the boy from Julie’s bed by the collar and wordlessly trucked back out the room. When later that night she received a text saying goodnight jules 💙 she knew she hadn’t been dreaming.

And when Luke kissed her square on the lips the next day for everyone to see, Julie had inkling this interesting, little relationship of theirs was the just the beginning.  

@blush-and-books @bluefirewrites @willexx @unsaid-emily @sophiphi @ourstarscollided

[novoaa1writes]

valentine’s

pairing(s): yelena belova x reader

summary: 

you’re already having kind of a shitty day to begin with. hell, you don’t even realize it’s valentine’s day until—

well, that’s not important. 

the important part comes later, when yelena shows up unannounced on your doorstep beaten half to hell and clutching a mangled bouquet of white roses. 

contains: fluff

word count: ~1,000

rating: teen

warnings: sleep deprivation, mentions of alcohol abuse, mentions of drunk and disorderly arrests, implied/referenced police brutality, guns, mild blood

notes: reader is explicitly stated to be not only poc but also non-white-passing.

— —

edit: this was written before it was brought to my attention that yelena is canonically asexual (and arguably aromantic). i will not be writing any other yelena fics which feature her in a non-platonic dynamic for the time being. please feel free to private message me if you have any questions, or wish to shed some light on this discourse!

— —

It’s something like 8:00 on a Sunday night, and you’re absolutely exhausted. It’s been… what, a solid 36 hours since you last slept? More, maybe?

Saturday night saw you cancelling last-minute on a highly-anticipated (and much-needed) girls’ night out in favor of going to bail your younger brother out of jail. Your younger brother, who lived in Providence, yet had somehow found his way to a police district in the heart of Boston before nightfall. 

The charges weren’t anything crazy—just public intoxication and resisting arrest… stupid stuff, really. Though, considering your brother’s visibly non-white complexion (a near identical match unto your own), that second one easily surpassed stupid to border on downright imbecilic. 

Needless to say, you were at Penn Station by 7:00, and on a train to Boston by 7:55.

You didn’t sleep on the train. You couldn’t. 

11:30 saw you disembarking at South Station, then taking the T directly to the precinct, ice-cold dread chilling your body from the inside out.

You were there by midnight, and when you finally laid eyes upon him—hammered and a little banged up but ultimately alive—you felt a weight lift from your chest. Stacks of endless paperwork and five-fucking-grand later, you were finally permitted to leave. 

You took his ass straight back to South Station and dragged him forcibly onto the next Providence-bound train. One hour later found you sitting side-by-side in a waiting room that reeked of antiseptic at something like 2:30am—waiting for his intake papers to go through. 

He’d been there before—Greener Pastures, an addiction recovery treatment center. (AKA rehab.) Twice, actually. 

You couldn’t help feeling like an idiot for praying it might stick this time. 

Intake was slow, but they’d accepted him into the program (again) by 3:15. 

You were back at Providence Station by 4:00am, and on a train back to New York City by 5:00am… just in time to clock in for work at 8:30 sharp. 

You were so out of it, you didn’t even think to realize that it was Valentine’s Day until one of your coworkers—a boastful, obnoxious man named Kade—dropped a pale-pinkish note atop your desk that read ‘You + Me. Dinner tonight? I’ll pick you up at 7:00’ in messy scrawl. It had a silver Hershey’s Kiss taped to it and everything. 

Perfectly juvenile. 

Following a very uncomfortable one-on-one with Kade during your lunch break, you made it a point to keep your head down for the remainder of the day. 

You were exhausted, and worn-out, and worried about your brother; you couldn’t possibly have cared less about candies and flowers and being someone’s valentine. 

So, yeah. 

You’re here now, alone in your apartment on a Sunday night, and you’re just ready to sleep, goddammit. 

So of course, why wouldn’t there come a heavy-handed knock on your door at precisely that moment in time? Why wouldn’t there be someone on your doorstep—likely with yet another pressing problem, judging by recent incidences—to keep you from conking out into a blissful sleep and forgetting (even if only momentarily) that the past 24 hours ever happened?

You’re originally planning to stomp over to the door like you’re upset, then yank it open and greet whoever’s feeling audacious enough to disturb you this evening with a succinct “What ?” that borders on a snarl. 

As it is, you’re far too drained to do anything but shuffle over to the door, undo the deadbolt, and tug it open with a defeated scowl to see—

Oh, what the fuck?

Yelena Belova stands directly outside your door looking like she got run over by a freight train… twice. Blood and soot streaks her pretty features; she’s wearing her tactical suit, still—though it’s singed and torn in various places, dotted in sprinkles of pale-grey ash. 

She’s got twin holsters on either thigh, only one of which still carries a Škorpion machine pistol—two guns she never leaves HQ without. 

One blackened hand is pressed urgently into her side—staunching what looks to be a rather serious flow of blood from a potential gun-shot wound in her lower abdomen—while the other… 

A bouquet of flowers—white roses, to be exact—clutched in her bloodied fist, thrust out to you as if offering you to take them. 

You blink—once, twice… thrice. You look up to the grim expression splayed across Yelena’s dirtied features, then back down to the flowers. Their pretty white petals are mangled and discolored, blotted with black soot. 

You look back up to Yelena once more, jaw slack with wonder. 

“Yelena, what…?”

Yelena glances down to the flowers and back to you. “It is February 14th, да?” At your blank look, she frowns and clarifies, “The day of Valentines?”

Your jaw snaps shut with an audible click! “I… Yes, but—” 

“They are for you,” Yelena says flatly. She thrusts out the bouquet a little further, silently urging you to take it. 

After a moment’s hesitation, you do. The cellophane whines and squeaks around the sad-looking flowers as Yelena relinquishes the bouquet, her catlike eyes intent upon you all the while. 

You look down at the mauled, singe-ridden flowers. You don’t dip your jaw to smell them.

“Thank you, Yelena,” you whisper out, finally looking up to meet her determined gaze. “They’re lovely.”

A spark of something warm flits through Yelena’s stormy gaze—here one second, gone the next. It makes butterflies erupt in your stomach. “С Днём Валентина,” she murmurs, sounding just the tiniest bit out of breath.

Despite the exhaustion weighing heavy on your thoughts, you feel the corners of your lips tugging up into a bashful smile. “Would you, um…” you trail off, stepping aside and making a vague welcome-in-esque gesture with your free hand. “Would you like to come in?” 

Yelena’s lips twitch, and she nods. “Да.”

— —

да | da | yes

с днём валентина | s dnyom valentina | happy valentine’s day

— —

tagging:

[marvel]: @normanijauregui​

— —

end notes: yelena 100% would pull this shit

also i never realized how nerve racking it is to bring flowers to a girl you’re not dating on valentine’s day. what the fuck. i felt like throwing up the whole time. why are girls so SCARY

link to masterlist

[gimmemycoffee]

Uriel AU because why the hell not?

So, I've been rewatching Supernatural just for the hell of it (no pun intended), and I am utterly frustrated by the amount of wasted potential, especially in seasons 4 and 5. The sheer amount of awesome characters they threw away should have been considered a crime. So, in response to my frustration, my brain - the traitorous little shit - decided it was plot bunny reproduction season.

There are about a million more plot points I can write about, but this one seemed to be the most random one. And I know it's been more than a decade since S4 was aired, so for context's sake, bear with me for a bit.

We all know that Cas started doubting Heaven's plans pretty much the second he sent Dean on the impossible mission of changing the past. We also know that he started voicing these doubts to Dean by the end of 4x07.

Here's the thing, though. Dean wasn't the only one trying to make Cas see reason. It wasn't coincidence that Uriel was introduced on this episode. He's the one in charge of destroying the entire city to prevent the Rising of Samhain, and he's prepared to do whatever it takes to reach his goal. If it wasn't for Cas reigning him in during the episode, if push came to shove he would have disobeyed Dean, and by extension, heaven.

Uriel is acting as a mirror here, giving voice to Cas' own doubts and questions. Yes, he's a dick about it, but the sentiment is there, and like it or not, his prejudice toward humanity is what fuels his rebellious tendencies - speaking of which, the leaders of Castiel's garrison share a tendency to go rogue, don't they? Naomi's got her work cut out for her. Serves the bitch right.

Anyway, fast forward to 4x10. After the whole mock fight at the start of the episode - let's face it, if the angels were really trying to get rid of the boys, they could've done it easy peasy. The only reason Anna had enough time to make the sigil and banish them was because they were pulling their punches. -, Uriel goes out of his way to talk to Dean in a dream, shows all his cards and even offers an olive branch. When Alastair comes in, his first move is to get up in his face and talk shit. Watch the scene carefully, look at the actors' body language.

Fast forward again and we land on episode 4x16. The power dynamic between Uriel and Cas has shifted, and angels are dying. Canon!Uriel doesn't give a shit about making Dean relive his trauma, and he sabotages the Devil's Trap to buy himself time. He does it to get Cas to join his side, and when he says no, they fight and that gets him killed. Everything he did was out of pride and jealousy, because he hates humans. A Lucifer fanboy, that's all he was portrayed to be.

But what if Uriel's rebellion had gone a little differently?

Uriel was a dick, but he was Cas' closest friend by that point. He was the one who planted the seeds of doubt in his head, encouraged him to question and abandon Heaven's plans. In canon, he couldn't care less about humans.

Thing is, though, when angels stray from their programming, when they start to doubt Heaven and feel emotions, there is one in particular they all seem to gravitate to: empathy. It happened to Cas, it happened to Anna, it happened to all the other angels after the Apocalypse was derailed. The civil war for Heaven would not have even begun without it. Cas wouldn't have been able to convince his followers to not torch the Earth if they hadn't sympathized with his cause. Feelings are complicated, and when angels experience them without guidance to tell up from down, they make stupid decisions - watch S6. That's what happened to Uriel: a stupid decision (killing his own kin) resultant from his emotions (pride and jealousy) going haywire due to lack of guidance.

What if he'd had that guidance, though? What if, instead of going homicidal - angelcidal...? -, he decided to ask for help?

Cas wouldn't be much help at this point, he's still Heaven's puppet and will be for a while. The power shift between them is Zachariah's doing, so it would happen regardless. Alastair would still try to break a seal, Dean would have stopped him, and the angels would still capture him. The difference here is that, without the killing spree, they would need another reason to make Dean torture Alastair - and yes, they'd still do that. Zachariah's goal is to break Dean, to weaken his resolve so that, when the time is right, he would say yes to Michael. Sorry, Dean. - and there is no shortage of those. They'd still send Cas and Uriel, and Uriel would still drag Dean to that warehouse. But instead of going away to 'seek revelation', he would stay.

Angels can see into a human's soul, Cas told us so. They can see what we're feeling, what we're thinking, and Dean's emotions would certainly have been a mess and a half. And to Uriel, who, at this point, is no doubt filled with conflicting emotions and well on his way to rebelling, the emotional turmoil is something he can relate to. His empathy would make him question the mission, and he would share those thoughts with Cas, who is clearly conflicted as well. He wouldn't sabotage the Devil's Trap because there is no time to buy, no need for a scape goat to cover his own ass.

As for Dean? He was making progress with Alastair. Slowly but surely, he was starting to crack. And given time, he might have succeeded - it's how he was trained, to play the long game. Sam would still show up and interrupt the whole thing, though, and Uriel would be all too happy to let him. Alastair would spill whatever secret they'd been ordered to get from him, and Sam would still kill him for what he did to Dean in Hell.

And then there would come the questions. How did Sam get so powerful? How did he know where they were? How did he know exactly how to torture a demon? Everybody knows the answer, and it leads to an early detox in Bobby's panic room. After dealing with his brother, it's Dean's turn to have a breakdown of his own: he asks about the first seal, and the two angels can't be anything but sincere.

From this point on, I can't really figure out what would happen. Uriel has rebelled, he disobeyed a direct order. He can't go back to heaven and he doesn't know what to do with himself. He needs something to give him purpose, and I can see him deciding to watch over the brothers, using his grace to heal Sam's addiction little by little (headcannon: angelic grace can cure the effects of demon blood). Dean may be a little cautious of the angel at first, but after a heart to heart, and Uriel proving himself to both Dean and Bobby, they come around.

When Cas appears to Dean in a dream, he and Uriel would set off to Investigate the address, and when they find Jimmy instead of Cas, Uriel would immediately know what's up, thus introducing Naomi way earlier for the sake of exposition. With his help, though, Dean would be more equipped to protect Jimmy's family. Without the threat of demons hanging over their shoulders, Jimmy actually stays with Dean and would be eventually taken to Bobby's to wait for Cas to return. When he does, though, Uriel runs off, knowing that freshly brainwashed!Cas wouldn't hesitate to kill him.

This is as far as I go. I might pick this up again someday, SPN is a fun universe to mess with.

Stay safe. :)

[spiritualgateway]

You are your own creation

written by Steven Black:

At least since „Seth“, we all know the famous sentence: „You are the creator of your own reality. “

Fine.

But we usually overlook the most important point, namely the center of where everything happens.

OUR SELF!

The very personal kind of evaluations we make about ourselves creates our human personality. The identity as which we know and experience ourselves. This is how it manifests itself. Our stream of evaluations leads to patterns of conviction and to a certain belief structure. And with this we then identify ourselves, which sets a certain dynamic in motion through which we will attract and experience certain things.

The core of the center lies in what we believe about ourselves, how we feel about ourselves and how we think about ourselves. This in turn is closely related to what kind of experiences we have already had. And how we have then judged these experiences. If we really want to understand the phrase – „You are the creator of your own reality“ – then it is valuable if we look at the stream of evaluation that we generate about ourselves throughout our lives. Second by minute, day by week for months for years and decades.

The person we are now is the product of many years of incessant evaluations and definitions about ourselves.

Sure, before we are born, we put together a kind of blueprint – with certain character traits, talents and inclinations, in order to be able to have certain experiences. And of course, when we come to Earth, we go through an imprinting process that will activate this Blueprint. We go through education by parents and the school system, learn cultural, social and societal collective beliefs and much more. In this way we learn to think in a certain way and to classify things, circumstances, people and situations – we adopt the definitions and evaluations that have been given to us.

In fact, it is only the basic training for being human at the moment, it is not the „wisdom last resort“.

Much more important for our human experience are our judgements about ourselves – which we make again and again (mostly very unconsciously) permanently. We constantly make comparisons and constantly generate our very personal interpretations about other people, life, our experiences and ourselves. And this, of course, first on the basis of what we have been taught.

All these interpretations, evaluations and definitions flow to what we call the subconscious and bundle there into beliefs (beliefs). This is called programming; this is how a program is written – and it is we ourselves who write it. Minute by minute for hour for day, months and years.

Beliefs become a program that works continuously without us having to consciously think about things. Belief systems are automatically formed after a certain amount or load of (good or bad) evaluations we have made about our experiences. Beliefs are nothing more than a condensation of evaluation streams that accumulate within us over time.

Each one of us is a creative soul, each one creates his own reality – without exception. And we create with the highest possible commitment: with ourselves.    

However we evaluate ourselves, whatever beliefs and ideas we may develop about ourselves – we ourselves bear the consequences. Because we will then have to live this idea we have about ourselves.      

We usually believe that it is only our experiences – the good and the less good – that influence our ways of thinking and acting. This is only partly true – I mean, of course experiences shape us. But much more important for the subsequent shaping is our personal evaluation of the perceptions and experiences we have made. For an impressive imprint a certain form of meaning is necessary. Meanings do not exist „just like that“, a meaning is created by weighting. By different evaluations within a certain context and by the feeling or an emotion that co-creates this evaluation. I have to evaluate things in order for them to have a meaning for me personally. This means that the meaning that any things, situations, people, and diverse experiences have for us is co-determined and shaped by ourselves.

Of course, when we are young and inexperienced, we will usually „blindly“ follow the definitions and evaluations that we have been taught. No matter how good, healthy, disabling, limiting or valuable they are. As we get older, we will probably realize at some point how many of these are not really ours. Then, at some point, we will probably make adjustments and think differently.

For example, if we often had the experience of being criticized as a child, we will develop an „inner critic“ over time. Considering the fact that there is a psychological study that says that a child up to the age of 5 is criticized about 40,000 times, we can safely assume that almost everyone develops an „inner critic“. The „Inner Critic“ emerges as a kind of protective function for the child.

He criticizes with the „good intention“ of sparing the child further criticism, which of course does not work. The Inner Critic is usually associated with a parent’s voice or that of another important caregiver. And what they say must be true, right? We quickly make the experience that we can rarely meet the requirements and so we develop additional feelings of guilt and shame. The heard criticism, together with the emotional reaction in us, leads to an often traumatic impact in our consciousness. The more often this happened, the more often we were criticized, the more often we felt shame about it, the more a conviction structure condenses and bundles itself in us, which approximately says: You are not valuable, you are not enough, you are … blah-blah-blah. We then believe that.

The vehemence and psychological scope of this „inner critic“ may vary individually, but the point is: You create a thought form that will accompany you and tell you unpleasant things about yourself until you start to stop and find a way to stop it. Because – you are hitting yourself …

In eastern spiritual traditions the „monkey mind“ has been blamed for centuries. The „stupid (monkey) mind“ that just does what it wants – as if it had its own life and its own decisions that have nothing to do with you. The solution to this problem was then – just don’t judge anymore. This is in my eyes a very immature idea, because the mind has no own ideas and no own consciousness – it is a function, like a kind of operating system, which does, repeats and executes what WE have given it to work. Our brain works with what it is offered.

And if we keep making devaluations about ourselves, what will keep coming up?

No matter how much other people may criticize you. No one can criticize you as badly, rob you of your own value and strength as you rob yourself. The consequence of this will be that we will be plagued by countless fears, physical tensions and insecurities – which will of course also be triggered by the outer world. The outer world always reflects our inner world in a special way. If you get criticism from the outside, it will most likely bring up the old shame inside you, which reflects the conviction that you are worth nothing. This in turn will throw up another chain of self-critical thoughts, which are usually suppressed as quickly as possible.      

As long as we are still unconscious, we will devalue the other and call him an asshole because he makes us feel that way. But it really hits us, because deep inside of us there is a conviction that correlates – even if only a little – with this criticism. That’s why it hurts, because something in us says – that’s right. No matter how wrong that may be. It is inside of us. The person in question may still be an asshole, but he is not responsible for how I feel about it. The statements trigger and activate the content, which we ourselves have already evaluated countless times in this or similar ways (for whatever reason) and also hide it from ourselves. If this is touched, it hurts. If we had no subject with it, it would not hurt so much.

But you only check it after you have worked your ass off on your topic. Not before – as long as we are only focused on the outer world and its dynamics, we are more likely to make classifications and evaluations that are based on a victim and perpetrator spiral. Me, the poor victim and the evil perpetrator.

Sure, from the outside it looks the same in its EFFECT. But there is always a complex dynamic behind it that has unfolded. We can either learn something important about ourselves from it or we simply repeat and repeat and repeat this dynamic. And we will repeat it if we are not aware of it.        

I know this has been a very strong example of how you create your own reality. An example that can show us that the esoteric idea that everyone creates their reality quasi-consciously is quite unrealistic. We create a lot of unconscious dynamics and weird behaviors because at some point we just didn’t know better. Because basically nobody taught us how to deal with ourselves. And so it is in most cases, life is based on trial and error dynamics when we know very little about how our own system operates.

As long as we do not deal with our own consciousness and inner world, we simply take for „God-given“ who we are and how we think about ourselves. So much mindfuck accumulates there and also the images and ideas we have about relationships, success, money, politics and thousands of other ideas are based on various evaluations and definitions that we have very rarely questioned. Most of the time they simply do not apply (anymore).

As you can see, we are actually deep inside the topic of „self-love“ (whatever that may mean).

Namely: How do I deal with myself?    

How we think about ourselves, how we evaluate ourselves and how we feel with ourselves has an enormous importance for our personal development. It also has a great influence on which connections our brain synapses develop, which ones we expand or whether some of them are broken at all. The state of our brain and all its connections correlate closely with our thoughts and emotions, as well as our actions.      

The axis of meaning

We cannot do without ratings!

I have to rate something as great, exciting, important, boring, euphoric, insignificant, desirable, aborting, likeable, good or bad (etc; etc.) in order for it to have this meaning for me at all. Through evaluations, like „yes, I like“ or „no you, don’t bother“. Evaluations, how difficult or easy the respective situation is or was for us to cope with. Ratings, how to deal with it in the future – acceptance, affirmation or avoidance. These evaluations are made on the basis of permanent comparisons between past and present. And they are extrapolated to future developments.  This feeds our expectations of how things will happen in the future …

As mentioned above, there are of course also meanings whose context has been shaped by other people or society. Because they are simply taken over and regarded as „given facts“. Every meaning has a kind of weight. How heavy it is depends on how important we consider those who taught and taught us various meanings. But a really strong weight they get from us, if it really concerns us and we make an experience about it. Until then, it has more of an abstract meaning, the weight of which has been shaped by others.

The weighting of a meaning is usually only given when we have experience with it and have repeatedly given the same or at least similar evaluations of it. OR relatively quickly, as soon as we are violently „hit“ by an emotional wave – positive or negative in nature.  

EMOTION IS A RESPONSE TO WHATEVER WE BELIEVE IS TRUE

Every emotion and feeling is a reflection of the energy of negative or positive judgement that we have defined and put into it. Emotions are reaction patterns that show us what we believe in. We condition the way we feel. And this means that a feeling or an emotion does not necessarily have to be true.  But it feels very, very true. Sometimes so true, so devastating, depressing and depressingly true that you get stuck in it for a long time. You can also forget about the highly praised „gut feeling“ – because that too is based on resonances that have a connection to any kind of meaning and judgement. Sometimes they are correct, sometimes they are just avoidance, rejection or fear. Also „gut feeling“ is something you can only rely on if you are emotionally relatively clear.

Emotions contain a certain definition, the core of which is a wide range of evaluations that have formed into a conviction. This is the origin, the root of all emotions and also the reason why emotions can sometimes be violent and so overwhelming. The content cascade of countless mental and emotional evaluations is so extensive that we can feel overwhelmed by the respective charge of emotion. Emotions are the first and fastest reaction of our system to flush content – i.e. information from the subconscious – upwards. Imagine if all the thoughts and evaluations we have ever made on a topic suddenly appeared in our waking consciousness – I think that would be much more confusing.

That is why I never tire of emphasizing the value of feeling work. When I am „buried“ by emotional things, I sit down and sit with the emotion – I follow it to the center of (my own) hell. At some point the tangle of meaning unravels and I understand the definition behind it. And then I have the opportunity to see – is this now REALLY true? If so, is it still true now? Very often there are unresolved issues that reach far back into childhood. An emotion that hits you now can be an original situation or experience from childhood, with all the definitions given to it, some of which have – even if only slight – similarities to the current situation. The similarity is enough to trigger the emotional field.

Knowing the definition allows me to make a new assessment – either to reinforce and respond to it or to add a new perspective. This allows me to update my emotional content and my evaluation stream. In order for this to work, I have to sit with the emotion in question until it is halfway discharged. Charge = all of the given evaluations and received feelings. Sometimes this happens quickly, sometimes it can take months or even years. If energy has been put into something for years, it does not dissolve overnight.

Our assessments are rarely made by purely cognitive, logical or clear, sober conclusions alone. We judge situations not only by factual and cognitive criteria, but also how we feel about them. How we feel with it in turn directly reflects our underlying thoughts and beliefs. And the respective emotional perception will in turn lead to certain thoughts and evaluations about them. In this way, our beliefs are condensed. All of this flows incessantly into our „subconscious“, this is how we write our story.

We not only evaluate, we also evaluate our evaluations and our emotions in addition. This reinforces the whole pattern even more. So most of our evaluations have become „self-runners“. We do not question them. They simply continue.

We evaluate almost every perception, every thought, every feeling, every emotion:

The sky is blue – feels good. It is raining – rather bad. It is hot – shit. It is cold – shit. I have to go to work – fuck. The neighbor – is friendly, sexy, annoying, exhausting, cheeky, creepy – whatever. I am in a relationship – super. I’m in a relationship – my god, what was I thinking? A look in the mirror shows – I’m too thin, too fat, too big, too small, have too big/small breasts, have too little/too many muscles, everyone else looks better/worse than me.

I like Rock ’n Roll music/all brass music lovers are morons. Classical music is for snobs. My boyfriend/girlfriend has left me – my god, it feels so shitty/ jeez, I’m so glad about that. I have no money in the bank – my life is boring. I have no money in the bank – at least I don’t have any debts.

There are thousands of different evaluations we make about ourselves and things. The beliefs we have accumulated over the course of our lives are so deeply rooted in us that we are not even aware of them. This happens so fast within us that we are very, very rarely consciously aware of it. We simply take them as a given reality and overlook the fact that we ourselves formed this reality. With our evaluations we condition our personal reality and the kind of person we are. How we evaluate ourselves forms the personality we perceive ourselves as. The personality that we are attracts certain experiences because of their belief patterns. So yes, we all create our own reality …

As we evaluate, so do things appear to us. No matter what kind of beliefs we have, they tend to confirm themselves. We always find confirmation of what we believe.

Of course, we always have the choice to say – „well, I don’t like my reality and I’m going to sit in my corner defiantly, it’s not my fault“. Mostly, however, life forces us to continue learning, to adapt and to change. Sometimes in an absolutely unpleasant way – through pain, trauma or we are confronted with difficult diseases. With everything that gives us the opportunity to pause and realize that we have to go INSIDE to face the many challenges of human existence. Mostly we will only emerge stronger if we redefine ourselves.

No matter why we get stuck in something – we ourselves are the root. Only from there change can happen. If we do not change ourselves, our life, our reality, cannot change.

Alright! Then I just start to think differently!

Good luck with it.

Will not work.

Forget it!

I mean, if you don’t have a big issue with it, if you don’t have a serious emotional charge attached to it – then, yes, it can work. At least it’s a small start. But if that’s not the case, you will just have many and long „discussions“ and arguments against one of your „inner voices“. You will not win this fight this way. This is war with yourself and will only aggravate your inner condition.

Our evaluations are a decision from which perspective we choose to see things. Of course, this means that we can make and give other, new decisions, i.e., new evaluations regarding EVERYTHING. But as long as we have not discharged „the old“, as long as we are not clear about the definitions we have made – about whatever – we will be maltreated by the „old stuff“ of our old creation. That is the incredible power we have, we make LIVING and experiencing what we believe. And what we believe in, comes about through our very personal stream of evaluation.      

The experience of our human personality is a flowing process that is never really complete, because there are so many possibilities and perspectives that we can experience ourselves again and again. We are not a rigid, fixed matter – it sometimes only appears that way. There is a lot of room to readjust or change that. It is possible to make new, better, clearer evaluations about ourselves. But sometimes this is one of the hardest transformation processes one can undergo.

Refine your inner world and you refine your reality

Basically we are never „finished“ unless we stop learning.

Until next time same station

DISCLAIMER:

Nothing you read here is THE truth. It is my truth, my perception and how I see things – now, in this moment.

THE INFORMATION SPACE

[galactichoneybee92]

The Problem With Spinning Out and Zero Chill

Okay so spoilers. All the spoilers. Go into this at your own risk because every possible spoiler for both shows. Also: I will be speaking about these two shows with the assumption that readers have seen both and as such, will not need a summary of either. Okay, still here? Cool. 

I have no big hot take, just some observations that I would like to put out into the universe in regards to Netflix’s two most recent ice skating shows. Because I have a lot of thoughts, and also one big question for anyone who can maybe help me? 

For starters, Spinning Out and Zero Chill are both Netflix originals that premiered around approximately the same time, both of which feature figure skating as a backdrop for a lot of interpersonal drama surrounding the characters. It’s wonderful, because while I’m not very invested in sports I adore figure skating- It’s beautiful and fun to watch even if you don’t know a lot of the technical aspects or the names of the moves. However, for centering around the same sport the two shows are very different. Also, Spinning Out has already been confirmed to have been cancelled after the first season, while the future of Zero Chill is still up in the air.

In regards to personal preference, I liked Spinning Out a lot more than Zero Chill. It had a love story for me to invest myself in, as well as some messy, dramatic family dynamics, and overall the show was a lot more mature. I suspect that this may have actually been to the show’s detriment but that’s for later. In contrast, I found Zero Chill to be fluffy to the point of an ABC Family special. 

Do you remember those? Shows like Switched at Birth or Secret Life of the American Teenager, that tried to tackle big mature topics while keeping things family friendly? Do you remember how the writing was usually pretty sub par and the drama all seemed super contrived because there was only so much they could actually do within their given boundaries, so they made a much bigger deal out of small issues than they deserved? Yeah. Zero Chill felt like that. For example, the “hazing” from the hockey team was to...put balloons in his locker? And that was a...major diss? Worth getting super pissed? Idk. It’s just that, without the confines of being family-friendly day time programing, I have come to expect more from Netflix original programming. 

Alternatively, Spinning Out may have veered too far into the dark and gritty spectrum. If I had to guess where it failed, I would say that it introduced A LOT of drama, all within the first season and at times felt, overwrought. I think Spinning Out could have done with slowing down and taking a breath. Draw things out. Have the mother slowly escalate her abuse, stop and start with her medication, stretch out the love triangle between Kat, Justin, and Marcus. When I first started watching I thought that maybe Marcus would be Kat’s Luke Danes. Like throughout the show she dates other people, but eventually she realizes that she loves him and they end up together but...nope. The show established pretty early on that we were not going to have an epic, interracial friends to lovers romance. And I loved the enemies to lovers romance we got between her a Justin (Though I really think it should have taken longer. I liked that they hooked up before and that he was kinda low key pining but stretch it out. Sloooooooow buuuuuuuurn. Make it goooood. I want to feel the pining.) but it did feel like the cop out answer. And then they immediately introduce a black female character because apparently in the year 2021 we still have shows with exactly 2 black characters that are there to date each other. Like fuck, even South Park has made fun of that trope, it’s time to move past it. 

Secondly I think that it’s super out of character for Kat to ever go off her medicine, even if it is to help her skating. It’s the same way I felt when they introduced Ian’s mental Illness in Shameless. Like, maybe it’s a thing that people do and if you’ve known people that act this was in these scenarios than sure, maybe I’m wrong. But it just feels like they go to so much effort to show the effect that their parent’s mental illness has on them and their life when left untreated, they establish the characters as grown up too quickly, forced to mature due to their parent’s poor choices, and then just decide to have them follow in their mother’s footsteps when the plot demands more drama. I hated that as a choice for Ian and I hated it for Kat. Partly because I feel like it’s very out of character and cop-out writing, and also because I feel like if they had to do it at all it should have been later on in the series. 

One advantage that Zero Chill had for me over Spinning Out is that at least the characters were consistent. In this case I’m speaking mostly about Kayla, but also some of the others. Sure, I found Kayla’s impulsivity annoying instead of charming like I feel was the intent, but I liked her friendship with Skye arguably more than Kat’s friendship with Jenn. Mostly because Skye was pretty chill throughout the entirely of the show while Jenn would go from hot to cold and back. Do I think it’s stupid that Kayla and Skyle’s big storyline was “I want to skate with my BFF but regulations don’t allow it?” Yes. You’ve already established that Kayla doesnt care about competitions. The only time she ever did was because she wanted to skate with her OTHER BFF. So like....just skate now? You have Skye’s mom’s approval at this point, it doesn’t have to go anywhere. But at least the two seemed to genuinely be friends. Kat and Jenn started off with potential but then turned fairly toxic. Kat was never that supportive of Jenn, always wrapped up in her own stuff and Jenn just got crazy at the end there. I understand her being upset about Justin but then she learns that Kat is bipolar, you think theyre cool, and then she immediately throws that back in Kat’s face at the first inconvenient moment. 

Can I just say though, how much more interested I was when I thought the secret figure skater was someone on Mac’s hockey team? I was trying to guess which boy it secretly was and I thought that there would be a subplot about her trying to convince him to figure skate with her, but he would feel pressured by his parents to play hockey instead. And that would work as a foil to Ava, who wanted to play hockey but was instead forced to figure skate. And there would be an eventual romance because what can I say, I’m here for the romance. But no...it was Skye and then there was just that subplot about Mac wanting to date his sister’s only friend. And like, when I was trying to guess who it was I thought it might be Bear and that would be her romantic interest but....no. Bear just, also likes Skye. 

Also, is it some unwritten rule that for every white girl figure skater with brown hair, there must be an Asian best friend? This isnt a complaint, just an observation. 

And clearly I don’t ONLY have complaints. I thought that both shows ahd a promising premise, and I loved the relationship on Spinning Out. When Zero Chill actually bothered with real issues instead of contrived nothing issues, I think it did it pretty well. I liked the friendships and family dynamic better in Zero Chill, but wished that it would have been a little more mature like Spinning Out. I liked that the characters in Spinning Out were mostly adults and that it had a more adult tone, but I wish that they had dialed the melodrama back just a bit. What I really want, I supposed, is a combination of the two shows which leads nicely into my question for you all: 

I remember browsing Netflix months ago and seeing a figure skating show advertised, however it wasn’t either of these shows. It feels like these two shows were once one, and then got split up into two because I am completely unable to find the show I originally saw a commercial for. 

In that original ad there was a brother and sister, one who played hockey and one who figure skated. But the hockey brother was jealous of the sister because he felt like their parents prioritized her figure skating. So one day, before a big performance of hers, he met her right before the performance and yelled at her about how unfair everything was and it shook her up and when she went out on the ice she wasn’t focused. She slipped and fell, split her head open on the ice, and her confidence was shaken. 

But like...that wasn’t either of these shows so what the hell was it??? Were they once one? Was there some other show that hasn’t been released yet? Did I see it in a dream???? 

[shutupandshipit]

Sharpen your blades - Ch.2

Summary: “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

The thinning of Aizawa’s patience was evident in the twitching of his brow. “If you stop asking questions, maybe I could finish explaining.

”With a huff and roll of his eyes, Katsuki glanced away from their coach.

“City Hall and the SC want us to give them more variety. We are a team solely made up of single skaters. Every year, we dominate the rankings for single skate while Shinketsu dominates the pairs, so this year both cities are being required to split their skaters evenly between singles and pairs with at least one pair coming from out top five.” There was a collective intake of breath, but no one commented, choosing instead to remain silent. “Unfortunately, for us, it’s a lot easier to switch from pairs to singles. With our male to female ratio, alpha/beta/omega ratio, and those of you actually experienced with pair skating, we’re at a disadvantage. So, I’ve decided to choose your partners for you.”

…..

Or where Katsuki and Izuku are forced to be partners so they can continue to compete, but the blood in the water may be thicker than anyone realized.

Pairing: Bakudeku

Rating: T

Chapter: 2/20

Previously <- Chapter 1: Pairs

Chapter 3: Training -> Next

Chapter 2: Refusal

Katsuki laughed as he spun faster and faster, holding Izuku’s hands so that when his feet left the ice, he stayed in the air. The Death Spiral was their favorite trick to modify, and as they got older, they got bolder. They hadn’t been allowed to include this particular modification in competition, but Katsuki knew they’d get to one day.

That wouldn’t be for another couple of years, but that just meant they had time to improve together and individually.

Their coach, a tall spindly beta man, called from the rink entrance. “Alright, everyone! Come gather over here for a moment. I’ve got some announcements to make!”

Izuku’s blades bit back into the ice as they slowed, still laughing. “Are you excited, Kacchan? You put in for the single skate events this year, right?” he asked, grinning as they meanered away from center ice. They weren’t the only ones taking their time, but they were the furthest from the entrance.

Nodding, Katsuki’s eyes found the dusty yet still colorful ribbons and trophies that lined the ledge of the announcer’s booth. “Yeah, wanted to try it out. Can’t get better if I’m never alone, and I want my name to be up there! Right where all those first place trophies are. I’m going to be better than anyone else! You too, right?”

Izuku nodded enthusiastically, cheeks flushed pink. “We’ve never gotten to skate on our own before. I think it’ll be fun. But I want to skate as a pair in the December preliminaries before we go to seniors.”

“Don’t worry about that, dumbass, that’s years away! We’ll still skate pairs before then. Just not this year.”

Izuku nodded, but didn’t reply as they finally slid up to the forming group of skaters. They were all ages from the youngest being 3-years-old to the oldest being 17-years-old, but even at ten, Izuku still looked tiny compared to everyone else. Taking his hand, Katsuki pulled him around to an opening between bodies, and shoved him through so they could both see what was going on.

Their hands never left each other.

“Good, good, everyone is here,” Coach said, eyes scanning over them, “So, we all know that the April showcase in Yuuei is coming up. Is everyone excited?” The group cheered. “Fantastic! I have the skating assignments right here! Is everyone ready to hear them?” The group cheered again, deafening in the echoing space of the rink. “Great! I’ll start with our pairs. I’m happy to officially welcome Midoriya and Bakugou as our Alpha/Omega pair! They presented just two weeks ago, and I’m sure you can guess who presented as what.” He chuckled, but the sentiment wasn’t echoed by the group.

Katsuki’s ears burned.

The other skaters were dead silent, all eyes finding them as the scent of burning charcoal slowly filled the air. Even at ten, Katsuki’s temper was volatile, only made worse by Izuku’s sickly sweet embarrassed scent. Like rotting fruit.

Sure, everyone could smell that they’d had first rut and heat, but it just wasn’t something people commented on. Going through puberty was embarrassing enough without everyone also knowing when they presented. Everyone just knew, and that was that.

Someone cleared their throat. One of the older skaters, an alpha woman with long white hair and brown skin, spoke up, “Um, Coach, I might be mistaken, but both Deku and Kacchan put in for single skate this year. We all thought it would be a good idea for them to get experience on their own.”

“No, no, you’re right,” Coach said flippantly, “but I decided otherwise. Why fix something that isn’t broken. It looks better for us as a team to have an Alpha/Omega pair, and it’ll be easier for them to win since same-sex pairs are unconventional.”

The rest of the older skaters shifted uncomfortably, expressions morphing as the alpha spoke up again. “That’s really not the point here. The point is for them to have fun and experience new things. There’s others of us who pair skate.”

Katsuki was burning from the inside out, anger stealing the words from his throat. He didn’t think he’d ever been so angry before.

“The point,” Coach said with emphasis, “is to make our team look good. Looking good equals more attention which equals more money. Which is important to keeping this rink up and running. Skating isn’t about having fun, it’s about winning. They’re better together than either of them ever would be alone. So if Bakugou and Midoriya want to continue to skate with our team, then they’ll skate pairs. That’s that. End of discussion. Anyone who has an issue with that can take their chances finding a different team.” With a wave of his hand, he continued down the list of pairs as if there had never been an interruption.

Grinding his teeth, Katsuki ripped his hand from Izuku’s. He ignored the hurt whine that came from the other boy.

The alpha that had tried to defend them shouldered passed the coach with a hissed, “Fuck you,” just loud enough for the entire team to hear over his talking. She grabbed her guards and her gear, and they never saw her at practice again. When the coach got fired two years later though, they knew she was behind it. Too bad it was too little, too late.

…..

Rage roared through Katsuki, and suddenly, the burning charcoal scent of his anger crowded out Izuku’s acidic anxiety scent from his nose. Blood thrummed loudly in his ears as his temperature rose with each beat of his heart, much like the first time he’d been required to partner with Izuku. It had always been their choice until it hadn’t been, and that pissed him off more than anything.

He couldn’t even hear Aizawa’s next words.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” he exploded, forcing himself not to look at Izuku when he heard the little unconscious whine the omega made. A sound that had his alpha screaming at him to ‘ calm, scent, protect, calm, help, protect .’ He hated it, hated the instinctual need, wished he could rip his alpha right from his chest. “This is a fucking joke, right? You expect me to fucking skate with him ?”

Aizawa slowly lifted his eyes from his clipboard, crossing his arms over his chest. “Yes, I do. You two are the best for this despite the fact you can barely speak civilly to each other for more than a moment.”

A manic laugh spilled from Katsuki’s mouth, and the teammates near him took careful steps back. “That’s a joke! That has to be a goddamn joke!”

Yaoyorozu’s hand shot into the air, worry etched into her features. Katsuki wanted to rip it from her arm. “I also don’t understand, Coach. Surely it’d be more beneficial to pair myself with Shouto or Midoriya, wouldn’t it?”

‘ Yes, agree. Switch Izuku’s goddamn partner. I can’t- ’ he thought desperately, but knew Aizawa wouldn’t.

“No. The program I’ve selected for the top rank is going to be difficult. Even if it weren’t, I can’t have someone who has never skated pairs trying to master it in just three months. We just don’t have the time to get you up to that skill level. On top of that, I’m not going to move two of my top three over to pairs when Bakugou and Midoriya have skated pairs previously. They are also the bottom of my top five. They’re the best option to make partners,” Aizawa explained, voice growing monotone the longer he spoke.

Katsuki couldn’t and wouldn’t skate with Izuku again! It just wasn’t going to fucking happen! This felt like the last time they were paired up for their dynamics, and he hated the sick black feeling that bloomed in his chest. Every rank dropped, every point lost, every mistake made flashed through his mind as if they’d happened yesterday.

He could still remember the sound of Izuku hitting the ground, the failed catch, the other skaters’ gasps even as no one moved. The smell of blood thick in his nose, his hands trembling, the anguish on Izuku’s face.

He hadn’t been the one to throw him, but he was still at fault in the end.

“I’m not skating with Deku!”

Aizawa’s eyes returned to Katsuki along with the rest of his teammates, stony and set. “Yes, you will. If you don’t, I’ll drop you from the team and you can find another to skate with. With your legendary attitude, I can’t imagine many would want you. Your choice.”

He was being forced into a corner again, given an ultimatum that wasn’t really a choice at all. If it was between skating and never skating again, there wasn’t a decision to be made. The blackness in his chest only expanded, spreading through his chest and up into his throat, choking him.

He ground his teeth together savagely, an ache sprouting in his jaw. “What the fuck ever, but I’m not practicing with him. Fuck that.” It was stupid, he knew it was. Eventually, he would have to practice with Izuku. Eventually, he’d have to eat his own words. There was no way around it, not if they wanted to have any chance of actually placing. That didn’t mean he couldn’t master his part of the skate to the most minor of hand placements before attempting the larger tricks with him.

He wasn’t going to be the one to let Izuku get hurt again.

Rolling his eyes, Aizawa seemed to be done with the argument. For now. “As long as you don’t make us look like a group of fools at the charity event, I don’t care how you figure it out. No deaths, no injuries and no stupid mistakes. Now, back to what I was saying. If anyone else wants to waste my time today, just leave.”

No one left the rink, but Katsuki shoved away from the wall with a snarl and found his way to Kirishima and Ashido’s sides. The pair were grinning at him, Kirishima placatingly and Ashido goadingly. He didn’t wait for them to say anything. “Pinky, I’m going to need to borrow you for practice.”

Her smile was sharp as she ruffled her pink spikes. “Not even going to ask first?”

“Are you going to say no?”

She shrugged her pink clad shoulders. “No, as long as you help me with my program. I’m competing too, and I’m going to need time to practice.”

“Sure, whatever. Just need you for the stuff I can’t do on my own. Lifts, death spiral, that shit.”

“I can help, but why not just practice with your partner? Hm? I’ve seen the videos, Bakubro, you two were really good. You used to tear up the ice,” she needled, and Kirishima shot her a reproachful glance.

He sighed and smiled at Katsuki. “Listen, man, I don’t want to like pry or anything, but I think you should just practice with him too. Maybe if you talk?”

“Shut it. None of that is either of your business. Just fucking leave it,” Katsuki snapped.

They shrugged, and let the topic drop even if it wasn’t for good.

…..

Izuku hadn’t been able to pay attention to Aizawa after that, his mind racing in circles to figure out what he could do. He didn’t want to disappoint anyone, and he was sure that no matter who Katsuki practiced with, he’d be able to perform with Izuku when the time came no matter what. It was Izuku himself that he was worried about.

There were a lot of things he could practice alone. Foot work and jumps synced to the milli-second with whatever track Aizawa chose for them. His costume and hair. Hand placement. Endurance. There were also a lot of things that he couldn’t do by himself that were, in retrospect, the most important aspects of their performance.

Those included, but were not limited to, lifts and throws. To put it simply, he couldn’t perform any of the tricks alone.

Pair skating required an astounding amount of trust and understanding between partners, just like anything else where two people were working together. The only person he truly and completely trusted on the ice anymore was himself. That was no one’s issue, but his own. Now, he didn’t have a choice. While he knew he could trust Katsuki and his caliber, was sure that Katsuki would never drop or fail to catch him, he didn’t know if he could let himself be that vulnerable again. He didn’t want to disappoint Katsuki when he couldn’t bring himself to do a trick, and he didn’t know if Katsuki could understand why he couldn’t.

They hadn’t been able to understand each other for a long time.

Aizawa had made a terrible mistake.

With each beat of Izuku’s heart, phantom pain flared from his hip to his ankle, from elbow to wrist. It had been eight years since he got hurt, but the fear that it might happen again followed him every time he stepped out onto the ice.

“Midoriya.” Todoroki snapped Izuku out of his own thoughts with a hand on his shoulder, and he glanced up to find the others dispersing. Most pushed back out onto the ice, some sat down to put their heads together, others stuck around to ask Aizawa questions. His friends were still standing close though; Iida, Uraraka, Asui, and Tokoyami. “Most of my pair work has been as lead, so I can help you practice until Bakugou pulls his head out of his ass.”

Izuku wanted to protest, to say that it wasn’t all Katsuki’s fault, but he couldn’t find the words. Couldn’t make his lips move to form the ones he did have.

“Is that really wise?” Iida asked seriously as he leaned down to remove his guards and step out onto the ice. He remained at the wall, face tense. “Pair skating is already difficult enough, but practicing without your intended partner…”

“I have to wonder the same thing,” Tokoyami sighed, glancing over his shoulder towards where Katsuki was briskly correcting Kirishima’s clumsy pick placement, “Wouldn’t that cause more problems than it solves?”

Asui placed a considering finger against her lips. “It seems odd that he’s so against it too. I know he’s smarter than he’s acting right now, so I’m surprised he’d take the risk.”

“Not only that, but you’ll have to practice too, Todoroki! Wouldn’t it just be better to practice with him from the beginning?” Uraraka asked earnestly, “Why is he so against it anyway? I know you two haven’t gotten along in a long time, but this seems excessive. Coach Aizawa isn’t asking you to be friends, he’s just asking you to skate. I thought Bakugou knew how to compartmentalize better than this.”

‘ Then you don’t know, Kacchan .’ Izuku didn’t say that out loud, even if he wanted to. He sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck. After a moment, he smiled. “Kacchan isn’t the only one with reservations. It’s just… there’s a lot that we haven’t worked through.” Read: that he hasn’t worked through. Nothing that happened when they were younger was Katsuki’s fault, at least Izuku didn’t see it that way.

His friends rolled their eyes. “You don’t have to make excuses for him,” Todoroki said, leaning forward to check his laces before standing.

Except that he wasn’t. His friends and teammates knew that Izuku and Katsuki had both skated pairs for most of their childhood and knew each other through their mothers. What no one knew was that Katsuki had been his partner most of that time. His friends didn’t know everything that they went through after they presented. They didn’t know why they had decided to go singles after skating pairs for so long. They didn’t know exactly how Izuku had gotten hurt. Maybe one day he’d be able to tell them, but every time he remembered that he spent an entire year thinking he’d never skate again, it just made his breath grow short and his heart beat fast.

They didn’t even know that Toshinori and Aizawa were the only reason he was still skating now.

Swallowing thickly, Izuku forced a smile as he allowed Todoroki to help him to his feet. “I’m not.”

[croc-odette]

i love ds9 and here are some episode premises that i wish had happened

DND EPISODE: already talked about this but a dungeons and dragons holosuite episode. jake is the overly prepared DM obviously, nog, ziyal, and alexander are players. nog’s player is clearly his idea of sisko, a lawful good paladin; ziyal plays as a cardassian rogue (played by dukat, but clearly based in personality on kira); alexander plays a mage who is kind-of worf kind-of jadzia and keeps switching between them through the game). there’s an NPC version that’s clearly also based on sisko at one point, but from jake’s point of view knowing him as his dad to compare how differently jake and nog, a cadet, see him.

as the game progresses, it becomes clear that the Big Bad is based on a combo of dukat/winn (corrupt government/religious figure). ziyal struggles with the classic DND question of ‘just because i would do this, does that mean my character would?’ except she’s realizing that her dad wouldn’t do any of the selfless things she wants her character to do. alexander keeps trying to solve shit through weird cantrips or puzzle solving instead of fighting and jake is like ‘it’s not deep it’s just a cave bat please roll initiative’. bashir and garak show up as like, the old couple from the princess bride and everyone has to be like ‘jake they’re not dating in real life this rpf shit is kind of inappropriate’ and he’s like ‘wait what? i thought they were dating’. miles is an NPC and dies. nog thinks jake’s-sisko-npc is too silly and disrespectful and jake is like ‘he’s MY dad’ and they have to take a break to argue about it and jake is like ‘your dad is cool too’. nog’s character changes to lawful good paladin rom. actually this whole game is ‘arguing about dads’ time now that i think about it, which jake is not really equipped to jump in on since he has a normal cool dad who he basically just thinks is embarrassing because he’s the ~messiah~ or some goofy bullshit. ends with them calling it a day after the final boss battle and then jake and nog privately talking about whether or not they can trust ziyal if she has to choose between ds9 and dukat, which was an ulterior motive of the game. ziyal is clearly clearly rattled by what the game made her realize and goes to see kira, who she doesn’t tell about the game but who still gives her a hug, and ziyal realizes that kira’s her hero (and like, her mom). alexander tells worf and dax about the game and dax thinks it sounds fun as hell and asks alexander if they can come next time, and worf is like ‘....... only if i can be a blood mage’. nog and jake go home and tell their dads they love them. 

shit i blacked out

PRANK WAR EPISODE: escalating series of pranks starting with jadzia putting hair dye in bashir’s shampoo and ending with the space station accidentally going into a meltdown self destruct scenario. garak is torn between helping jadzia and quark, who are clearly the better pranksters, or helping julian and odo, who suck at pranks but are his lunch friends. everyone has to tell garak that he’s way too intense about ‘pranks’ which are actually just really dangerous booby traps he puts in people’s quarters. sisko ends the episode by grounding everyone; no holosuites for a month!! yes even dax

GREAT RACE EPISODE: there’s some kind of macguffin resource on a planet (a klingon escape pod with a survivor with crucial intelligence information?), but they can’t teleport directly to it. a vorta and jem h’dar team and a ds9 team beam down on opposite sides of its location and are both racing to get there first, having to macgyver together vehicles and tools on the way. lots of excellent outdoor on-location settings and comparison of the jem h’dar/vorta dynamic and the ds9 federation dynamic. ends with the jem h’dar almost winning but turning on the vorta at the last few yards, and sisko’s team beams out as the jem h’dar chant victory. no i refuse to think this is same plot as ‘the ship’ or whatever

KASIDY EPISODE: set earlier in kasidy/sisko’s relationship, kasidy agrees to go with jadzia as a third-party observer to negotiations with a nearby bajoran colony over a trade agreement with the federation. jadzia and kasidy bond over gossiping about sisko on the way, but once they get there kasidy disagrees with the starfleet’s contract during negotiations which causes tensions, and recommends that the bajorans reject it. she and jadzia get into an argument about starfleet and its ideals, and why kasidy chose to be an independent captain rather than a starfleet captain, and how that doesn’t make her lesser than starfleet captains. jadzia realizes that kasidy is right and petitions superiors for a new contract, which kasidy approves of. they go home tenser then when they left, but when sisko asks jadzia what she thinks of kasidy, she very seriously says that she has incredible compassion, intelligence, and integrity, and that she doesn’t need or want jadzia’s approval. but has it anyway

MUSICAL EPISODE: someone already outlined a great musical ep where lwaxana comes in with a betazoid cold and it makes everyone burst into song in another text post and like 100% cosigned

SHAKESPEARE EP: holosuite shenanigans; every character is suddenly stuck as someone from a different shakespeare play. garak is an enthusiastically combative beatrice, kira is cordelia, worf is hamlet, jadzia is a very amused katerina, julian is puck, miles is duncan (”i get MURDERED?”), odo is benvolio and kind of bummed he’s not romeo, etc. i actually don’t know any shakespeare play that well but i think it could be neat. julian is the only fucking person on ds9 who actually knows any of it well enough to figure out what’s going on, except for sisko who doesn’t really care for shakespeare but generally knows about the plays (maybe a good opportunity to talk about the racism in most ‘classic Earth’ pop culture that star trek tends to uphold without criticism). i don’t know shit about the 40 plays that shakespeare wrote about british kings but i could see sisko ending up in that kind of intense role and refusing to play into it, as do the rest of the characters who refuse to fulfill their respective roles and instead find another way to end the program.

KLINGON OPERA EPISODE: goodddddddd can we see some klingon opera, mac. i’ve been dying to see some klingon opera. premise is they believe that someone is assassinating ambassadors and so they tag along with a andorian ambassador who loves opera to see if they can figure out who the assassin is, however the andorian plays it down as over-worrying and that they should use it as an excuse to enjoy themselves. worf and jadzia go and have a lovey dovey time, sisko and kasidy go and have a lovey dovey time watching worf and jadzia get super into the opera together. julian is asked to go in case there’s poison used or first aid needed, and miles is like ‘the last time i went undercover i came home with trauma and someone’s cat so no thanks i hate klingon opera’ and after some increasingly overt passive aggressive implications that julian should take HIM, julian asks garak to go with him. bonus points if for some reason they are wearing the stupid tuxedos from doctor bashir i presume. a lot of loud arguing about the opera which almost gets them kicked out. at the end of the first act, one of the actors DOES try to kill the andorian but jadzia jumps in front of the phaser beam (cue worf being very concerned and annoyed that she could have gotten killed, jadzia being very smug and pleased with herself, her head in his lap, in a pose mirroring an earlier couple in the opera). julian feels like he would have noticed if he hadn’t been distracted by garak, and when it turns out the andorian ambassador has sensitive info about cardassia’s civilian government, julian accuses garak of intentionally trying to distract him to make sure the andorian actually died, which turns into a huge argument (ideally in a very opulent klingon opera house bathroom). during the argument, julian realizes that garak was trying to hint to him that something about the assassination attempt was off; he pieces together aloud that the andorian and the actor must have been in league together, to fake the andorian’s assassination so they could not be tried for profiteering by illegally selling weapons to the cardassian central control during bajoran occupation, which they are currently under investigation for. the other ambassador assasinations were planned by the andorian to cover their tracks. the andorian is arrested, as is the actor. at the ballroom afterparty, sisko and kasidy, in a good mood that everything worked out, agree to join in on traditional klingon dancing. worf and jadzia take a peaceful walk through the gardens and worf recites some really lovely klingon poetry about how sometimes it’s NOT a good day to die if someone loves you, that none of us fucking understand without looking it up. julian and garak talk on the balcony, and julian posits that garak is loyal to cardassia, but which part of it? garak answers, very close and meaningfully looking at julian, ‘like most things... it’s complicated.’

i was about to say ‘fake wedding episode’ but literally LITERALLY that was the shotgun wedding lwaxana/odo ep. i love star trek

KEIKO BOTANIST EPISODE: kira accompanies keiko to bajor to help find a medicinal plant that was thought to be wiped out during the occupation but might still exist in a remote mountain region based on local reports. a nice episode where we learn more about bajor and see how bajorans are coping and healing. over a campfire, kira thanks keiko for accepting her into their family. keiko tells kira that she was really intimidated by her when they first met, and then realized she’s one of the most loving people she knows. just a nice episode, maybe some mild nature survival conflict, but ends on a hopeful note of them finding the plant. miles beams down with the kids to have a picnic with keiko and kira, and kira’s happy to see children playing carelessly on bajor again.

JAKE AND ZIYAL EPISODE: everyone thinks jake and ziyal are dating because they’ve been hanging out. julian’s an idiot and mentions to sisko ‘must be hard, huh’ and sisko’s like ‘WHAT must be hard’ and julian’s like oh my god were we not supposed to talk to him about this. jake and ziyal aren’t dating but as soon as sisko tries to talk to jake about it jake is like ‘i’m not but actually maybe i SHOULD ask her out’ and sisko is like fuck. okay no that’s fine. this is more of a B-plot but basically give jake and ziyal age-appropriate love interests they’re both RIGHT there

[slashhinginghasher]

Midnight Star - Chromeskull x OFC - Part 6: I’ve Got A Game To Play If You Like To Lose

Summary: Jesse has a proposition for Marena.

Title taken from Edmund Temper by Amigo the Devil, aka my theme song for this iteration of Jesse.

This work is on Ao3!

***

Truth be told, Jesse was a little disappointed she hadn’t picked the collar. He’d already gotten himself half-hard imagining how the black leather would look around her throat, the way she’d stumble as he strung her up with a silver leash… He could always force it on her anyway, he supposed, but ultimately he decided it would be more entertaining to maintain that illusion of choice. 

There was time. There was plenty of time.

He hovered just outside the doorway to the medical room, fiddling with the strap of his eyepatch as he debated his next move. It felt strange to abandon the mask so quickly. He’d worn it for months around Veronica before he even hinted at letting her see his face. But his Tiny Terror had literally ripped that option away within a day of meeting him. She’d also cracked Spann’s unbreakable composure in under a minute. Clearly, she was a formidable opponent, even if she didn’t intend to be.

That wasn’t why he hesitated, though. No, Jesse was trying to figure out how to exist in a room with her without immediately pouncing and taking everything she could give. He hadn’t jacked off this much since he was a teenager, and for the first time in his life, his libido was becoming what he would consider a problem. The gratification of a long-term game would be so much sweeter, but he was having a hell of a time convincing his cock to listen. And more than that, he needed to prove to himself that he still had some fucking control. The last time he’d acted this impulsively for this long, he’d wound up mostly dead on the floor of some shithole gas station. He could not - would not - fuck up that badly ever again. But then, what was the point of keeping the bitch alive if not for his own personal enjoyment? And why was there a hint of possessiveness that went beyond his normal predator/prey dynamic whenever he thought of her as his?

Maybe things would be easier if he just stopped thinking so goddamn much.

Frustrated in a myriad ways, Jesse glided into the room on silent feet. The girl was so still, he would’ve thought her dead were it not for the shallow rise and fall of her chest. The bruises on her face and neck had blossomed into florid reds and purples, adding a lovely rainbow of color to her otherwise bloodless complexion. He could think of a few places to add some new ones, he mused as he trailed his gaze up her legs and over the stark line of her collarbones, preferably with his mouth. 

Her own gaze was oddly vacant. Jesse waved a hand in front of her eyes and she didn’t even blink. It was like she had gone away from herself, or retreated backwards into her own head. He’d seen that look on her before, in the warehouse. Maybe it was that dissociation thing the shrink talked about in her notes. He’d look into it later, but right now he wanted her to un-dissociate, or re-associate, or whatever the fuck the proper term was. He settled into the chair that had held Preston’s annoying ass a few hours earlier, then reached over and poked the scar on the side of her neck.

The reaction was almost comically instantaneous. Marena bolted upright like she’d been tasered. Her eyes darted blindly around the room, landing on Jesse but not quite seeing him as a thousand unidentifiable emotions flickered through their depths. Then, with a long, slow blink, her focus sort of… snapped into place. The tension in her muscles lessened ever so slightly, but she still looked tense enough to snap under a single touch.

Jesse gave her his most winning smile. It was a move that had lost a lot of its effectiveness along with his face, but old habits died hard.

“GOOD MORNING, KITTEN.”

“Is it?”

Marena’s voice was as cold and flat as a sheet of ice. If she was unsettled by his custom text-to-speech program, pieced together from the voices of past piggies, her face didn’t show it. Her fingers, however, were twisting at the links of the handcuffs. Whether it was a nervous tic or an “I really want to hit you but I can’t right now” tic, he couldn’t be certain. Either way, Jesse’s thoughts were quickly veering back into pouncing territory. He forced his eyes away from her hands and thoughts of how they’d feel wrapped around his cock.

She was watching him watch her, still as a statue.

I HAVE A PROPOSITION FOR YOU, he wrote, switching back to static text. A GAME.

“I don’t like games.”

OH I THINK YOU’LL LIKE THIS ONE.

Marena did not respond for a long moment.

“What sort of game?” she asked grudgingly.

I ASK YOU A QUESTION. IF YOU GIVE ME THE ANSWER I WANT YOU GET A REWARD.

“...And if I don’t?”

I’LL STILL GET THE ANSWER AND YOU GET NOTHING.

“This game feels very rigged in your favor.”

IT’S MY HOUSE DOLL.

The silence that followed was positively glacial. Marena’s jaw was clenched so tightly, Jesse swore he could hear her teeth creaking. Small crescents of red started to form where her nails dug into her palms. If looks could kill, Jesse would be rotting on the floor.

But they couldn’t, so he just got uncomfortably horny instead.

“I will play your game,” Marena finally ground out, “with one condition.”

Oh? Jesse gestured for her to continue.

“You. Will. Never. Call. Me. That. Again.”

Jesse leaned in conspiratorially and held up the phone.

ARE YOU REALLY IN A POSITION TO BE MAKING REQUESTS LITTLE GIRL?

“That was not a request,” she snapped. By this point, Jesse was grinning with unabashed delight.

I ACCEPT YOUR CONDITION. BUT YOU HAVE TO EARN IT!

“Ask your fucking question then.” Marena pulled back, breaking the intimate space between them.

It occurred to him at that moment that he didn’t actually have a question in mind. He could ask why she had such an apparent aversion to dolls, but that was obvious and therefore no fun.

While he mulled it over, Jesse finally, finally allowed himself to touch her. He started at the injection site, circling the red spot where the needle went in with a single fingertip. He kept his touch feather light as he moved along her clavicle, admiring the goosebumps that rose in its wake. Marena was watching his hand the way one would watch a spider that they were unsure was dangerous, but didn’t try to shrug him off. He traced along the strap of the silk nightgown he’d given her in lieu of a hospital gown, then pushed it aside to cup his palm over the curve where her neck met her shoulder. His hand engulfed her easily, the sight of it sending a thrill up his spine. He skimmed his hand down to her malnourished bicep, then pressed his thumb decisively into the pale, circular bullet in the soft part of her shoulder. She glanced up at him in question, and he nodded.

“I was shot.” 

Jesse waited for more. When it was not forthcoming, he shot her a look that clearly said fucking really?

“I…” She swallowed hard and fixed her gaze on the far wall. She looked pained. “Can I write it? It’s… easier for me to find words that way.”

Jesse shook his head and tightened his grip on her arm. Not a fucking chance in hell, doll. He hadn’t expected to get his way so easily, and he was not about to be the stupid asshole who fell for her obvious stalling tactic by rummaging around for a pen and paper.

The girl shut her eyes and took a few slow, shuddering breaths. When she opened them, she had that distant look again, though not as far gone as she’d been when he first entered the room. It was like she was suspended halfway between Here and There, wherever (whatever) “There” was. If she thought she could space her way out of this, she was in for some unpleasant disappointment. She took one more breath, smoother and deeper than the last.

And, much to Jesse’s surprise, she answered him.

[thechembow]

Major Changes in Our Lives, Humans Need to be Together Now!

Aug 10, 2020

OR clouds this afternoon

I am back from my July hiatus, which happens organically each year. July is a lull in weather warfare here in Southern California because we’re still far from the rainy season. In addition to the usual lull, the parasites are so debilitated by orgone energy right now, they can’t even fly through. There have been almost no planes this summer, and when there are, they are silent and have no trail or a failing trail. This year we were moving to a new home base so my energy was occupied with the transition, which was beyond the third dimension so it was the hardest move of our lives. More on that later. Now I can once again opine and also present facts, evidence and proof. We all know on some level that world as we know it is ending. Even the most indoctrinated matrix slaves know things aren’t right, even if that’s only because they have strong delusions and believe a lie. We don’t need to talk about that big lie anymore. It’s obvious and too stupid to dignify. It is also a cover for a computer virus affecting the AI and putting them out of commission, a computer virus caused by increasing orgone energy on Earth and reclaiming the mind, one human at a time.

The AI is losing its grip on humanity’s consciousness, so it is taking drastic measures to keep its hold on this world. They have thrown persistent gradualism out the window and are clamping down harshly on all of humanity, restricting people’s movement, making humans cover their faces to be around other humans as well as keeping an unnatural distance, and forcing humans to give up their enterprises and life-long work and ambition, making hard-working people poor and dependent on them. Humans can’t conduct any business they are still even allowed to conduct without wearing a mask. This is a satanic ritual, to hide one’s face from God, leading up to the Mark of the Beast (which has already been done in the mind, but the physical mark comes next).

When you can’t see the facial expression of another human, verbal communication loses a subtle but important element. Think about how you may react to a text message taken out of context because you can’t hear vocal inflection. You may get angry at something innocuous because a necessary element of communication was missing. Now think about how hard it is to make a simple question come across to a hardware store employee with a mask on. You may end up in plumbing when you wanted a mixing container for your resin (paint department, along with your mixing sticks). A major element of communication regarding emotion and the etheric is also taken away by covering the face.

The parasitic obsession with our distancing from each other physically follows the same energetic model as “distance is your friend,” does in regard to energies dangerous to us. Lloyd Burrell of Electricsense.com, a website to help people with EMF sensitivity, explained how distance is your friend with EMF and how the most important thing is to avoid it. Keeping it out of the house altogether is best. He doesn’t advocate “gadget” fixes for EMF because he thinks it should be removed from our lives completely (so do I). He doesn’t endorse orgonite for this reason, but I do because if you do the hard work of ridding yourself of EMF and others are using it, the orgonite is a great way to make your home even quieter energetically, aid in sleep and good health, and increase consciousness. Even with distance from your neighbor’s wifi, it’s still great to neutralize it. There is a lot of benefit to be gained by increasing OR. It’s not just about decreasing DOR, which is of course the most important first step. You can’t use orgonite as a band-aid, but in conjunction with eliminating deadly energy, it really changes the whole dynamic of your house and even your neighborhood. If you take this concept and invert it, you can see why the parasites may want to keep us away from each other to avoid energy deadly to them! We are strong OR generators, especially when we’re together.

For the parasites, distance from life-giving orgone energy is their friend. Orgone energy is death to them because they are inverted. They purposely have created a world of deadly energy out of a planet that is a natural OR generator. The OR is still there functioning in the minerals of the Earth, mountain peaks, oceans, and forests. It is also in us. When we are together, our energy increases and we help each other just by being together. Humans are naturally communal, and distancing takes away a vital part of our nature. When we feel depressed and scared because we’ve been isolated in our houses, listening to terrifying news about more freedoms lost (or for the believers in the lie, a horrible disease which could kill them), our OR becomes contracted. This makes us more susceptible to disease and depression because our bodies and minds are weak. This is the state that the parasites need humans in so they can feed. They suck off of the negative emotions as sustenance. They keep us away from each other by mind control, programming delusions into the mind, so that we feel even more depressed and isolated. We need each other’s support now more than ever and we have been convinced that we are not to be together.

When humans are together, it not only satisfies a social need, but it also conducts orgone energy and connects people more strongly through the psychic web which connects us all. The parasites have us connected through an electromagnetic web, but this is not our true nature. This is simply a way for them to control us, mind and body, and to keep tabs on all of our business. In reality, we can already communicate over distances without the aid of a telephone or computer. This etheric ability is suppressed through frequency control and mind control, but now they have also added the distance between us. Distance between us is also their friend. Together, our energetic fields comingle and we can sometimes even communicate without words, even if just through a facial expression. Body language also speaks volumes. Together, we feel safer and connected, so that we know we have support during this very frightening time. Separated and masked, we are afraid to even engage another human, lest they recoil in fear of our germs. We always assume everyone believes the lie because they are masked. But we are all masked so we can buy food. What a state to live in.

Our new home is far from the madness of “civilization.” We have gotten more off the grid and are trading labor for housing. We are still making orgonite and teaching, I am working on writing and plan to release another book, and we are taking care of animals and learning how to work the land. We have a place to grow food now and have reduced dependency on the dollar drastically. We feel like God is looking out for us. We have gifted great amounts of orgonite and as I was planning the summer gifting trips, we were suddenly sequestered in our new life, given by God, because who else could come up with this? It is a dream come true to get back to the land and what’s real. We also have felt very unsafe in this increasingly hostile world. Now is a great time for everyone to make and gift orgonite locally where they live, since travel has become unsafe and sometimes even impossible. There are thugs with guns and badges swarming everywhere now to generate income for the state and bring more misery to the humans, thus food for the parasites. It is time to stay near our homes and really look inside ourselves. We can’t continue in the world the way we were.

The sky is ours, so it’s time to work on cleaning up the deeper levels of parasitic infestation on Earth. If you have not yet reclaimed your sky, it’s time to do so. It is easy with orgonite. The hard part will be disconnecting from the parasitic network, which will suppress your sky-cleaning abilities and other etheric gifts. Most people are tied to this artificial network, mind, body and spirit. It is the symbiotic relationship that has to be broken, and this is painful to both parties. In this case, the parasite needs us to feed, and we have come to need them for our basic needs, like utilities and a means to trade, and now also for the energetic tether that we’ve become accustomed to. Humans have forgotten how to think for themselves and the tracker thinks for them. It creates the thoughts the parasite needs, and right now that is fear. Everyone is scared. Orgone energy is the energy of life, love, and creation. It is the energy of God, which needs to be increased to combat the energy of satan, which is death, fear, and destruction. Now that we have reclaimed the sky and weather, it’s time to destroy evil and eradicate the parasites completely. We are well underway, as can be seen by their struggles in the sky. We have to keep increasing OR and we need to say no once and for all. The breaking point will come and there will be no return, whether you are absorbed into the collective AI or you resist. Once you leave the matrix you can’t return.

[loisfreakinglane]

tscc, dark angel, angel

G A S P! SHOCK! A DEEP DIVE! lol thank you

tscc:

Favorite Male Character- DUDE THATS SUCH A HARD QUESTION suffice it to say this is either john or derek depending on when you ask, buuuuuuut terminator in my face i say john

Favorite Female Character- JESSEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Least Favorite Character- i. struggle to think of anybody i found bad or boring or anything???? oh okay you know what i have eternal mixed feelings about the character we know as eileen/alan/abraham and the weird choices around them. yeah thats all i got

Favorite Ship- derek/jesse my heart breaks and i am just a mess forevermore

Favorite Friendship- lmao there is no way to call it a friendship it is not a friendship but riley/jesse is so very fucked up in so many trillions of ways but god i’m obsessed with them......... also riley/john i would have fucking loved to see them have a real relationship, platonic or otherwise, their dynamic is SO GOOD and the possibility of their dynamic when they were both open about themselves.... fUCK

Favorite Quote- there are so many off the top of my head but like the biggest gutpunch to me personally was when jesse called derek out for his suicide attempt, asking what was he doing there when she found him and he just says ~i was waiting for you~ THO THO THO ALTERNATIVELY when they’re trying to get ellison to help program john henry and he says- you wanna teach it commands? start with the first ten.

Worst Character Death (if any)- uhhhhhh i think i like all of the character deaths on this show- i mean rileys death K I L L S me but i’m not angry about it and it was incredibly well done. dereks? maybe? i’m not actually mad about it but it was very abrupt. like i get it tho? OH WAIT I HAVE A REAL ONE friendgirl of johns who killed herself in the plotline that was never resolved bc of the writers strike. that was horrifying and ultimately we never even got a reason (beyond the obvious one they hinted at)

This made me so happy you have no idea Moment- what on this show makes anybody happy????? ever?????????????????????? uhhhhh. fuck. i mean the reveal about who riley is is SO GOOD i’m just always happy when the pieces slot together and we see new depth?

Saddest Moment- so many things on this show make me sob but like peak among them bc like you can feel your soul screaming bc you have no idea what could be done differently, when riley and john both ask the other if they’ve got anything they want to tell them, and they both say no they don’t EVEN THO THEY BOTH KNOW WHAT THE OTHER ONE WANTS TO SAY BUT THE ACTUALLY SAYING IT PART WOULD CHANGE LITERALLY EVERYTHING UGH FUCK KFUCK FUCKCCCKCK

Favorite Location- the stupid future tunnels where i want to see what happens next in the series finale FUCK

dark angel:

Favorite Male Character- uhhhhhhhhh even tho him being 95% of the tags every time i check have grated all of my nerves, yeah i still love alec the most when it comes to dudes

Favorite Female Character- max is a forever and ever and ever girl

Least Favorite Character- ames white. i don’t remember much about that plotline but i remember a lot of UGHS and groaning

Favorite Ship- cindy/diamond i’m mad forever I KNOW THEY WERE ONLY ONE EPISODE BUT ME/THEM FOREVER

Favorite Friendship- max/cindy eternally, the best ride or dies ever

Favorite Quote- fight the power, protect the downtrodden. blah blah, woof woof. ALSO max’s whole little once upon a time story about tinga...... :(

Worst Character Death (if any)- diamonds death was painful and i hated it and it was a dumb thing anyway. like at least she got revenge but MEH TAKE IT BACK I DON’T WANT THESE. worse character resurrection is zack they should have just let him stay dead instead of turning him into a robot (i like zack this isn’t a slam against him but it was an epic death for him) OH OH ALSO ANNIE FISHER she never should have died that was dumb and a waste of kandyse mcclure

This made me so happy you have no idea Moment- when cindy and max cheated the money off of those assholes and then beat them up, still in their itty bitty sparkly outfits and left with such flair :) but just also max forever........ cindy/max forever.......... mine own heart. 

Saddest Moment- when the show decided to make clones a thing breaking the whole internal logic of the entire first season aka them not knowing what the kids looked like :( I SAD

Favorite Location- i always thought the jam pony set was really fun. i love that the whole last episode was set there.

angel:

Favorite Male Character- angel, with a side called gunn or connor YAH I LIKE CONNOR I SAID IT YOU CAN ALL SUCK IT

Favorite Female Character- cordelia chase forever and EVER nobody else on planet earth holds a candle to her

Least Favorite Character- look i love christian kane i do, hes amazing in leverage- but man lindsey......... hes fine when hes snarking at lilah tho i’m with lilah in that groaning and screaming at wr&h being so blatantly misogynistic in preferring weak ass flip flopper lindsey over LILAH. also lindsey in s5 blew they should have spent the money they wasted on him and eve and adam wahtever and just paid for stephanie to be a main

Favorite Ship- cangel OTP ETERNAL

Favorite Friendship- angel/gunn is such a good dynamic that you can feeeeeel the show dropping (along with so much of their gunn-centric content bc they didn’t know how to write for him and never thought hm maybe we should hire some black writers)

Favorite Quote- it’s a cliche at this point and theres many great quotes on this show but it really does hit home- if nothing we do matters, all that matters is what we do. cause thats all there is.

Worst Character Death (if any)- freds death is vile trash garbage and they should feel like vile trash garbage for doing her like that

This made me so happy you have no idea Moment- cordelia and angel falling asleep with baby connor between them talking about how to spend a big payday........ such marrieds content..........

Saddest Moment- ‘is that it? am i done?’ idk if this would have been a SADDEST MOMENT before glenn quinn passed away but it sure hits hard now. it also hits hard when they replay it in you’re welcome right before cordelia dies

Favorite Location- the hyperion hotel is one of my favorite sets in all of television. i just wish we’d explored more of it, and that they hadn’t ditched it in favor of that new wolfram&hart set, which was honestly very very boring to me