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notjustjavierpena · 8 months ago

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4AM (Drabble)

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: A little peek into Hubby’s mind. I’m working on a longer piece but here’s a taste for the starving.

Summary: Javier reflects on fatherhood while comforting his son.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no y/n)

Tags: Domestic, Javier loves his family, Javi POV, life with a tiny baby!!

Word count: 1.5k

4AM

It’s like clockwork when Lucas’ cries start echoing through the hallway in the early hours. Four in the morning and no sooner or later. You could set an alarm to wake you up at this point but each time there’s the slightest hope that it’s going to be at five the next time.

You wake first. A moment later, you hear Javier wake up beside you with a sharp intake of air. He rubs his eyes with his thumb and index finger, “Whose turn is it?”

“It’s four a.m. He’s probably hungry,” you say with a groan and try desperately not to let your eyes close for too long, “Jesus, I’m tired.”

Lucas sounds desperate with how he sobs, hiccupping unhappily at not feeling either of you close yet. You feel bad for not having left your bed already, reaching for the covers to throw them to the side. Javier looks like he is just about to turn onto his other side but he sits up instead, “Let me. You just go back to sleep, baby. I’ll heat a bottle or bring him here if he’s hungry.”

He swings his legs out over the side of the bed, his movements slow with the kind of sleepiness that only comes from not waking up by oneself but rather being woken up by something or someone.

“Javi,” you try to protest.

“I mean it. Go back to sleep,” he stands up with a small noise, shuffling out of the room and down the hallway to avoid more protests from you. He works so much and you stay here with his infant son all day; it’s the least he can do. Plus, he wants to get all the quality time with his baby boy that he can, even when he’s miserable from sleep deprivation.

He stops and takes a deep breath right before pushing the door to Lucas’ nursery fully open. There’s a soft glow from the night light by the bed, a lamp shaped like a half-moon that shines a golden yellow over the crib to soothe.

“Hola, mi amor (hello, my love),” he says when he leans over the side of the crib to look down at his wailing son. Lucas’ hair is dark and tousled much like his own, his eyes are big and brown but right now, his face is also tear-streaked and red from exhaustion to the point where it tugs at Javier’s heartstrings. He shushes gently as he scoops his infant into his hands with practiced ease, holding underneath his arms and supporting his head with his fingers. He bounces gently when he has Lucas cradled against his bare chest. In his head, Javier goes through his usual checklist to make the crying stop but he finds that his son is neither hungry, gassy, or in need of a diaper change. He tuts softly and paces the room to make him settle.

“Did you have a nightmare?” He asks when the wails subside and turn into soft whimpering instead. The tiny hands on his chest curl up and as the sobbing stops, Lucas seems to find comfort in the familiar scent and warmth of his father. Javier kisses the top of his head, speaking gently while still bouncing carefully, “Don’t worry, I get those too sometimes but your mamá is right there with me when I do just like I am here with you. You’re always safe with us.”

Javier is floored each time he manages to soothe his baby boy. It’s a reminder that he is doing a great job despite all the doubts he had during your pregnancy, the introspection, and the constant fear that your softness hadn’t changed him enough after Colombia to be a good father.

It seems so long ago since he was living an adrenaline-fuelled and cruel life miles away from the quiet suburban life he now leads in Texas. Sometimes, he even feels like everything that happened in Colombia are experiences that belong to a whole different person. This is even if there are still nights when he wakes up in a cold sweat, his whole body aching, feeling claustrophobic, and his poor old heart racing with memories of the things he's seen and done.

The hope of everything that he has with you had always existed beneath the layer of women and booze but Lucas is the true reason for letting go of his past. He doesn’t think he has ever felt so much fulfillment in anything until he held the tiny little boy against his chest for the first time and a nurse told him that he was a natural. He sobbed when you had gone to sleep, leaving him alone with your shared creation and he just couldn’t take his eyes off him. He doesn’t think he ever thought that his heart was capable of feeling so much unconditional love for anything. He still marvels at how his chest aches every time he looks into his son’s eyes.

Lucas has drifted off to sleep in his arms by now, breaths having slowed down and eyes having fluttered closed. Javier paces around the room for a few more minutes just to make sure, and then he walks back to the bassinet and gently lays the baby down on his back.

However, as soon as Lucas loses the warmth of his father’s embrace, his eyes shoot open and the crying restarts. He writhes and hiccups and kicks the blanket off.

Javier sighs softly but there’s a smile on his face as he does it. He picks him up once again and the routine starts over, “So that’s what you needed, huh? No llores. Estoy aquí. No voy a ningún lado (Don’t cry. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere)."

He is so tired as he promises this, eyelids burning from exhaustion when knows he doesn’t have to be up for another three hours and they could be spent on sleeping. It doesn’t reflect what he wants though because sleep is nothing compared to hearing those cries ebb out until they stop altogether. He feels triumphant each time.

He walks to the corner of the room where an old and slightly weathered rocking chair stands. It used to be in his father’s home, more specifically on the back porch, but he received it as a gift after his pop found out he was going to be a grandfather.

He slowly lowers himself into it. The gentle motion back and forth has Lucas falling asleep once again. Javier can feel his chest rise and fall in time with his son’s and it’s so soothing that he allows himself to relax. He closes his eyes, becomes aware of their synchronized heartbeats, and then passes out with the little bundle on top of him.

In your bedroom, you wake up an hour later to pee only to find that Javier still hasn’t returned after getting up. You concentrate on listening for your baby’s cries but there is nothing to be heard. After going to the bathroom, your feet take you down the hall and into the nursery just in case Javier needs you to take over rocking your son for a while.

You find them both fast asleep and it is a relief that there’s no distress after all. It makes you smile to see them like this, looking so alike despite the age difference between them. Tiptoeing across the floor to gently place a hand on Javier’s shoulder, you wake up your husband with the intention of not disturbing your son. He stirs at your touch and looks up at you with tired but content eyes.

“Looks like you both fell asleep,” you whisper to him gently. Absent-mindedly, you stroke your hand up and down Lucas’ back.

“I didn’t mean to,” Javier blinks sleepily, reaching up with one hand to rub his eye, “Seems like he didn’t need anything.”

“Are you kidding me? That’s not true,” you cut him off with a shake of your head and a soft laugh, “He needed you.”

There’s a pause. Javier almost looks like he might drift off again. You carefully lift Lucas from his arms, “Let’s get you back to bed. Both of you.”

You lay Lucas back in his bassinet, rubbing his belly with the palm of your hand before tucking the blankets around him snugly. He stirs but only briefly and then settles back into a peaceful slumber, his tiny fingers curling around the edge of his covers.

Behind you, Javier has gotten up from his seat. You turn to him and wrap your arms around him, holding him close as you both stand there in the soft glow of the nursery. It goes on for a minute or so, none of you saying anything.

Together, you quietly leave the room. In bed, Javier holds you protectively in his embrace during the last few hours he has with you. He leans to kiss your lips tenderly, “Te quiero tanto, baby (I love you so much, baby).”

“Y yo a ti (I love you too),” you reply and earn him squeezing you even tighter, “Para siempre (forever).”

Being a first-time parent is hard, you know this, but it’s not as hard when four a.m. I love yous are involved.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

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jellyskink · 1 month ago

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Doing an explanation, I guess. So maybe people won’t think I’m a bad person. If I am, then it won’t make a difference, but I think it’s the sort of thing that is difficult to tell from inside oneself. So about the AU. Saw a domestic abuse survivor say they hate it because of the animal theme I use, and the lighter/funnier additions that utilize that aspect. And I’m sorry. All I can do is explain, and if the explanation isn’t good enough, then there is nothing I can do, but I guess stop doing this and hope I find something else anyone cares about.

I add stuff like that because this scenario is… well, dark. And I thought focusing so entirely on only all these horrible things happening, with no lighter tone, would be… emotionally exploitative, or something? Like pointless misery porn that only makes you feel bad to read. And that’s not the point. Ford in this is basically an exaggerated version of myself, in terms of the emotional reactions I give him to a situation that’s way worse than the one I’m in. My friend pointed out that I even DRESSED him like me. And I guess the animal theming is part of that. Feeling constantly, permanently inferior to everyone else around me, everyone who has a useful part in society. I was even bullied all throughout school for “thinking I was an animal.” That’s actually the first time I’ve mentioned that online, because some part of me is terrified of it happening again. It wasn’t true, but when has something kids bully other kids for needed to be true?

So I’m sorry if this is bad, or if my explanation isn’t good enough. I’m sorry if I’ve hurt you. I was trying to help myself, and people seemed to like it, so I continued. I’m also terrified of being ignored forever. But maybe that isn’t good enough. I’ll stop if it’s what’s best.

#blah blah blah #fucking yapper am I right #I have no idea how much information about myself to reveal online #but my default is transparency #probably too much so #it’s the autism chat

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moonsaver · 7 months ago

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Anon that said they wanted to put Sunday in a Petri dish here again thinking about him. I had this thought about him while eating an avocado egg breakfast bagel but that’s not the point. I lowkey feel like the most annoying thing he’d do to me imo is bother me when I eat. Not any of that kidnapping or coercion stuff but just him bugging me when I’m annoyed and hungry. I feel like he’d constantly wipe the corners of our mouth and tell us not to talk when chewing. Literally the worst. At some point he’d probably spoon feed us too if we didn’t listen to him. Maybe even put a cute apron on us and make me sit in his lap. I need him in a concerning way I’m chewing at the bars of my enclosure rn

Welcome back anon!

Tw: food and eating mentions, mannerisms regarding food.. basically about eating and that being controlled. Probably not good to read if you struggle with eating in some way. Take precaution!

Honestly.. yeah. I feel like more than half the time it's how strict he is with "propriety' that makes being kidnapped and held hostage by him the worst.

I personally would hate someone constantly picking on my mannerisms. It's your home for goodness sake!

Whenever you sit languidly at the dinner table he's always "advising" you to sit "properly" and with a straight back, fix your posture, fix your etiquette regarding your spoons and forks, constantly teaches you how to properly cut your food and eat it, the "proper" angle or whatever. Tries forcing a habit onto you of always placing a napkin on your lap and eating slowly with better precision and more attention. Always fidgeting and cleaning the corner of your mouth with his handkerchief to the point your skin gets irritated and sometimes burns from the constant rubbing.

Whenever you complain about his incessant need to "fix" you, he simply sighs and tells you "it's for your own good". If you keep complaining, his eyebrows slightly furrow and he sighs, shaking his head before getting up and sitting beside you, taking the cutlery from your hands and deciding to feed you instead. Although his intention was to simply enforce a good habit into you, he supposes reaping different rewards isn't so bad either.. he likes feeding you. It kind of becomes routine for you two. He says until you learn how to properly handle yourself, he'll take care of you. It's just a fancy excuse for him to continue feeding you.

Thankfully, when it comes to dietary restrictions, he's not completely bonkers about it like an almond mom. Just doesn't allow too much or too little of anything, it's a bit specific, but at least satisfactory.

About the apron thing.. yeah.

I imagine Sunday can cook those mild, flattery, rich people food so if you want to eat actual damn meals he either orders them, or has them prepared by a chef. However.. one day he sees you in an apron making something for yourself and something about it intrigues him. Seeing you in an apron and the domesticity of it kind of pulls something inside of him.

So there you have it – he's always (not so) subtly trying to push you to cook more just so he can see you in an apron. Buys the frilly kind, but if you don't like that.. fine. He'll get you some minimalistic ones, but he wants to see them on you. Gets cookbooks for you, too. Acts like the chef "is running late" just so you might cook, or says "the order's going to take some time" instead. Also lists off benefits of cooking for oneself. Doesn't mind if you don't cook for two, but does insist that he keeps feeding you. Tells you to stay in your apron because it's more convenient than putting a napkin on your lap, and tells you to move closer so he can properly feed you. He'll sigh, and massage his temple, saying "it's not enough, you need to come closer", and makes you sit in his lap while he feeds you. You swear he goes slower just to keep you there for longer.

At least.. he's been in a happier mood since. He does enjoy feeding you. Removes his silken white gloves just to do so. I imagine he also likes tying the apron for you himself. If he does it from behind, he kisses your nape after he's done. Or if he does it from the front, he pulls you closer with the strings of the apron, and kisses your forehead. Also insists on tying up your hair (if it's possible) as "they might get in the way". His excuses are getting old, but it's not like you can exactly deny him.

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unremarkablehouse · 7 months ago

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Domestic Partners: Commingling

Summary: A look into the way Mulder and Scully’s relationship became intertwined with mundane domesticity. WC: 2,262 | AO3 Tagging @today-in-fic

The melding happened so gradually that they could both pretend it was normal and justify their commingling as convenience.

It was small things at first, learning each other’s favorite coffee, a key so she could feed his fish and get his mail. Scully imagined their bond to be one of fellow soldiers in war; fighting together and having each other’s backs. There was a romanticism to the whole dynamic, being part of something bigger than oneself and the intensity paled in comparison to any other relationship she’d ever experienced.

He used to date. Not a lot, but there was usually a woman willing to share a few meals and his bed before they realized just how broken he was. Mulder had long ago abandoned the romantic notion that there was someone who’d understand him, let alone tolerate him long enough to be anything more serious. During the first year of his Partnership with Dana Scully the frequency of which he asked women out had gradually diminished. He found the rudimentary pleasantries exchanged during first date conversations tedious and would swing for the fences with outlandish topics that brought the conversation to an awkward standstill. With little more than a good night kiss on the cheek, the dates ended and Mulder would call Scully to see how she’d answer whatever hare brained topic he’d crashed and burned on. Her answers never ceased to exceed his expectations, and eventually it just seemed more practical to stop asking other women out.

Dana Scully had no trouble attracting male attention. It seemed inevitable that her new Partner would be her lover; just as her Advisors, Supervisors and one Professor had before him. His frequent late night phone calls and his general invasion of her personal space aside, Mulder never made a move. Her feelings on the subject ran the gamut of refreshing to frustrating, unsure as to why he hadn’t used one of their late night work sessions to finagle his way into her bed. So she went on dates with other men, nice guys with respectable jobs who complimented her beauty and feigned interest in whatever she had to say. It all seemed so superficial and her desire to endure these dates waned dramatically. With Mulder, she never had to wonder if his interest was genuine and his ulterior motives were transparent. He made it very clear his desire was to have her by his side while he chased the fantastic, respecting her candor and the value she added to the work. Which is how she found herself caught in some perpetual state of “dibs” by Mulder. A sweet torture only made endurable by the knowledge it was wholly reciprocated.

So, they both dined together instead of with others. Their meals quickly became a well choreographed dance. Lunch; a Turkey club on wheat with a side of fries, split between the two. Scully distributing half a salad, careful to leave out the olives. Mulder adjusted to the low sodium soy sauce and brown rice with Chinese food; and their choice of pizza toppings were the embodiment of peace treaties in order to reach the perfect compromise.

When they first started working together Mulder skipped breakfast, drank black coffee and pilfered jelly donuts from the station or the office. Usually ready with a napkin, Scully had a remarkable knack for preemptively catching errant jelly globs before they stained Mulder’s ties. Only years later would Mulder come to realize that the times Scully had failed to intercept the jelly spills coincided with ties that she found particularly egregious and was attempting to phase out.

It only took a few months, but the enjoyment of having breakfast with Scully was enough to break Mulder of his donut habit. His new routine; a split order of wheat toast, which he smothered in jelly. ‘What’s the difference between this and my jelly donut?’ ‘About 300 calories and 12 tablespoons of sugar.’

Like a kid, Mulder was unable to eat his toast without a blob of jelly always collecting in the corner of his mouth. Scully found herself unable to resist cleaning it off, and without fail Mulder always kissed the stray jelly off Scully’s thumb. Each and every time this was met with a smile from Scully, no matter how tired or irritated she was with him, and he always thought if she smiled at him a second longer he’d just have to kiss her. Scully always turned away with a demure blush because if she looked at his goofy smile a second longer she’d just have to kiss him.

As the years of their partnership go by, so do the clothes in Mulder’s wardrobe until the majority have been purchased or approved of by Scully. It started early on, an airline losing his bag, handing some cash to Scully to pick him up some clothes while on assignment. Giving her his credit card to pick up some new shirts for work after she announced she was shopping with her mother on the weekend. Mulder detested shopping and was grateful to relinquish control to Scully in this domain. There was something about shopping for a man that Scully has always loved, and Mulder was the perfect specimen. Unsure whether Mulder’s mismatched ties and suits were a result of his color blindness or lack of fashion, Scully picked suits that were better fitted and easier to mix and match for Mulder. She loves soft textured sweaters on him and supplies him with colors that made his hazel eyes sparkle. Even though Scully knew his sizes by heart, Mulder always made a show of trying on his new clothes for her, pretending to be oblivious to her stares as he parades around half naked while changing.

The two agents have more tactical clothing in their respective wardrobes than any other agents at the FBI, which is something they’re both proud of. It started as a battle with Finance on their first case. The FBI would not reimburse Mulder and Scully for their suits that were destroyed in the Field as a matter of policy. Outraged, Scully challenged the decision, adding the expense of every additional clothing item that was destroyed between the pair to the ongoing exchange regarding the expense report and then kept including more senior officials to the debate. Finally, a Director who may have had more than a passing interest in Scully, responded and explained the policy was due to the IRS. Essentially, the issue came down to suits and dress shoes being a non-deductible expense so they could not just be reimbursed financially for the loss of work clothing, however they would receive credit for any lost clothes so long as it was used for items deemed as tactical gear. Thus began the great L.L Bean haul, where Mulder and Scully tried to recoup close to a thousand dollars worth of lost work clothing on hiking and sporting gear. They both got multiple sized mag lights, hiking boots, thermal underwear, socks, trench coats and a variety of waterproof jackets. As far as bureaucratic victories goes, this was one of their greatest triumphs and buying new “tactical gear” became a beloved ritual between the pair as they got some form of justice for their destroyed garments.

When it came to cleaning their clothes, a clear division of labor had been established between the pair. Mulder was responsible for taking all their dry cleaning in and picking it up. They had an understanding that Mulder always pays to clean both their clothes as he owed Scully a lifetime of free dry cleaning based on Tooms alone.

Scully does the rest of their laundry at her place because she has a machine in her unit and knows how to soak and pretreat things. Mulder loves that his clothes smell like her and wonders what she does to his undershirts to make them so soft. He would ask her, but doing it himself would lose the magic because part of the truth is that it is the care Scully puts in that makes it special.

Most professional travelers rarely check luggage, opting for carry on only. With the size of Scully’s medical kit and the sheer variety of climates they end up in, the pair often share a checked bag as well as their individual carry on. Where possible they try to avoid transfers, opting to drive from major airports to the towns, trying to reduce the risk of lost luggage and missed connecting flights.

They usually carpooled to the airport in a routine so familiar it became muscle memory. Mulder puts Scully’s bag in his trunk while she settles in the passenger seat and starts sipping on the coffee he’s brought for her. Without discussion Scully takes a bite of half of Mulder’s bagel and always makes a face when she realizes it’s light cream cheese. He resists the urge to kiss her pout, but keeps his bagel order the same; tempting fate each time they travel.

There are ongoing games they play while traveling; spotting license plates, hypotheticals, twenty questions, fact or fiction, thumb wrestling. They try to keep the games fun and light hearted, but Scully is competitive and Mulder loves goading her. On long stretches of empty highway Mulder liked to pretend that they’re the only two people left on Earth and for some reason that thought made him happy.

Despite his adamant denial, Mulder gets car sick when attempting to read in the car so often he drove and Scully navigated. For all her many skills Scully isn’t great with maps, but much to her annoyance Mulder has an almost eerie intuition when it comes to directions. She questioned him every so often, willing him to be wrong just once, but so far it has only made her more certain that Mulder is part compass.

Between the pair they’ve taken a two star tour of motels across America thanks to the FBI’s guide of approved accommodations. The fixtures, beds and set up between the rooms vary slightly but after a few years of working with Scully these motels start to feel more like home to Mulder than his own apartment. Mulder has no qualms making himself comfortable in Scully’s room, leaving clothing behind and lying on her bed. Despite her futile objections, Scully understands that their rooms are a shared space, and has grown accustomed to her motel pillow smelling like him.

Scully regularly falls asleep in his room; late nights reviewing case notes, jet lag or just watching tv. Through their partnership they’ve shared a bed more often than not, but it doesn’t seem to count if they don’t talk about it and one of them leaves before the sunrise.

It was Scully’s suggestion that on the weekend they start spending time apart, eager to create some work life balance. For Mulder, this seemed like a punishment, and initially he spent the first few weekends calling her with feckless excuses simply to hear her voice. Despite feigning agitation, Scully never hesitated to take his calls, and enjoyed their chats more than she let on.

Within a few weeks a compromise was made and Mulder was invited to join her in eating leftovers made by her mother on Monday nights. On mention of this new routine, Maggie quickly started making up plates specifically for Fox, baffled as to why Dana just didn’t bring him to dinner on Sunday. Scully noticed that Mulder’s plates always had the biggest pieces of casserole and he was always supplied with dessert (even at the cost of a dinner guest not getting seconds).

Friday nights became when they would watch movies at his place. For years they kept up a pretense of reviewing case notes on these nights, but the rented video and take out easily distracted them and their productivity never eventuated passed a vague discussion of whatever case they’d been working on.

Scully’s boundary to maintain some professional distance over the weekend began to fail miserably as they started bumping into each other at museum exhibits or movies they’d mentioned to each other during the week, so it just became logical to coordinate to go together.

Soon grocery shopping became an activity they started doing together because the supermarket in Virginia stocked the fancy cheese Scully liked and she could make sure Mulder bought more than just beer and poptarts. Scully always stocked poptarts and sunflower seeds at her house for him. Mulder always has diet soda and carrot sticks in his fridge for her.

She steals his shirts and sleeps in them because they smell like him. Mulder steals them back after she cleans them and pretends not to notice when he sees her wearing one to bed or around the house.

He has accused her of being a cat because she always snuggles into him when she’s cold and only wants affection on her terms, she also gets pissy when she gets wet. This is met with an eye roll and a decidedly feline look of disdain from Scully that Mulder adores. If Scully is a cat then Mulder is her unwieldy golden retriever, a statement met with glee by Mulder as he shakes his head like a dog and gives her a big slobbery kiss on the cheek, earning him a laugh while Scully scratches her hands through his hair.

One day they’ll argue over when exactly their anniversary is because how could you possibly pick which milestone gets precedence? The truth is they were a couple long before they were ever ‘together’ and perhaps that alone means the start was their beginning.

Note: This is a completely new style for me, it’s almost head canon and kind of poetic. I’m contemplating doing other chapters but I’m not sure if it works. Let me know in the comments if it’s worth doing a Relationship chapter and an IWTB era chapter. No beta, just me and my scrambled brain.

#txf #The x files #txf fanfic #xf fanfic #msr #fox mulder #dana scully

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hadesoftheladies · 3 months ago

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Victim Blaming

Hoping I can keep this brief, but I have a habit of being thorough to a fault, lmao. Anyway, yesterday I had an unpleasant conversation with a radblr user who's online presence I have largely enjoyed at least, up until this point. She was frustrated with one of my posts, one where i joked about certain experiences i had with choice feminists.

She is referencing this post of mine in particular as an example of my victim blaming: (15) nearly all women who date men do so as a form of ritualized masochism: the lifeblood of female gendered socialization – @hadesoftheladies on Tumblr

I was, of course, upset at this, but I got curious as to whether or not the words I used in this post could qualify as victim blaming. I had this disquiet in me, which I usually have when a concept in my head is ambiguous and I'm struggling to define it. I want to draw a line somewhere because clarity is my one true love. So I did a little research on the general term.

First off, victim blaming is a term used in sexual assault/violence cases. That subject is the soil from which this notion of victim blaming grew into what we know it as today. FUNDAMENTALLY, victim blaming is when a victim of sexual violence is held responsible (either partially or entirely) for what happened to them. (Please keep that in mind.)

According to this article, victim blaming stems from several places:

-a desire to distance oneself from the possibility of being victimized

-a lack of empathy

-fundamental attribution error (FOA) which is the refusal to analyze external factors in favour of putting all the responsibility of the abuse on the victim

Also important to note, is that the end result of victim blaming usually results in the victim feeling ashamed or guilty for what happened to them.

Moving on, in the post this user provided as an example of me victim blaming, there's a note somewhere down there where another user called "eldopism" mentions a Lundy Bancroft quote about how victims need far more support than judgement, and how I shouldn't be making myself out to be a victim for something a man did to someone else.

maslows-pyramid-scheme also informed me that there were certain radblr users that had discussed this trend of me victim blaming straight women, so I think this serious accusation warrants a very fair and thorough response and I will use the above information on victim blaming to criticize this specific post i made about women who date men.

#1. Have I Blamed Straight Women for The Evil Men Have Done To Them?

In the above excerpt, I am drawing up a profile of a woman who is informed and not currently in a domestic hostage situation. The examples I provide are all of women I know who are unmarried and dating. One example I use is of a woman who was almost raped.

I talk about these women as active agents or "adults." They are capable of making decisions, perceiving threats, and are aware of the situations they've been in. I explicitly state that I feel anger at them, which DOES NOT MEAN I am ONLY angry at them. It is only that this anger at them is the focus of the post.

Now at a glance, anyone would say, "Yeah, this is victim blaming. You are clearly angry at a woman for almost getting raped." And I think in this case, I am partly to blame for not providing more context to that specific story.

At the point of writing this very emotional rant, the woman who was almost raped had resumed (to an even more extreme degree) endangering herself in the exact same way. When she told me what had happened, I was angry at him and horrified, but when I heard she'd gone on to be even more reckless, putting herself at more risk, that was when my anger extended to her. Both before and after the encounter, I and other mutual women in this circle, had discouraged her from fraternizing with him. This man was not attractive, neither did we find him particularly charming. They were not long-term friends and did not have any prior connections. He was a stranger that had no stake in her life. She had told us that leading up to that moment, she had not communicated what she'd wanted. Honestly, even now, I'm not too sure what was going through her head during all this and the sequence of events aren't adding up in my mind.

What I DO know is that he attempted to penetrate her without her consent and she froze as a fear response. Knowing that she found this potentially traumatizing, I wondered why on earth she then continuously went on to put herself in escalating vulnerable positions with other strangers in the exact same way.

So, victim blaming is when I would blame this woman for being nearly raped, but though I miscommunicated, that wasn't why I was angry. I was angry at this woman for disregarding this traumatizing experience. Consistently, even in the other stories, my anger is about women's decisions to re-expose themselves to predators POST victimization. Not about the victimization itself. I am not asking "what did you do to provoke him" but "why are you doing this again after what he did?"

I hope you can see the difference in both questions.

#2. Why Does She Do That?

The central theme of this post is the latter question: why the fuck are you going back? And please note, these are explicitly NOT domestic violence cases. These aren't women who live with these men or who's economic livelihoods depend on these men. These are important distinctions.

Of course, being well acquainted with theory, I know that none of our decisions are made in a vacuum. In many of my posts and also in this particular post, I acknowledge these external factors, which is why I called this cycle of "ritualized masochism" part of gendered socialization. I am explicitly acknowledging that this is a systemic issue that affects an individual's psychology, hence, interpersonal relationships. Literally in the first sentence. So I have not committed an FOA.

In this post, I also highlight the difference between me and women who make this issue out to be solely a matter of the moral failing or lack of resilience from these kinds of women. An inevitability that is better to just wash one's hands of. I DO NOT think flippantly abandoning these women to their self-destructive behaviour or acting smug about it is the right response.

#3. People That Love People Will Grieve

This post is PRIMARILY an expression of personal grief. When our loved ones are suffering or are hurt or are lost, we will, of course, feel personally affected. It is HEALTHY and IMPERATIVE that people who are supporting women or anyone, really, through difficult times or chaotic phases feel their feelings and air out their frustrations. Care-taking on any scale can and will get tiring because we are FINITE. We do not have unlimited energy to offer eternal support. That's the reality.

This anger and pain we feel is not coming from a lack of empathy but from the overwhelming presence of it. I feel for you so strongly, that every time you hurt yourself, I also feel it. When he hurts you, I am angry because I feel that hurt. When you hurt yourself, I fam angry because I feel that hurt. Because there is a part of me that is suffering as well, I get angry at the cause of that pain.

Apathy could never.

I wanted to provide an outlet to myself and other women who felt like me who had or were going through this grieving process and had frustrations as a result of having empathy while partaking in a seemingly never-ending cycle of torment.

#4. The Rescuer Isn't Coming

Which brings me to this next point.

Now I've made several responses in this thread already, but I really wanted to highlight that maslow's original criticism is that I was conflating an innate desire for a romantic relationship with men with femininity, and I was calling both ritualized masochism (which they are).

But this response really cements the absurdity of this situation for me; that is, the absurdity of choice feminism.

What really gets me about this particular response is how perfectly it poses the very same question that the post she cited says is impossible to answer: what can I do to make her life safer?

The post she cited is one that is lamenting the utter helplessness of being this support that never really improves anything because, at the end of the day, grown women will do whatever the fuck they want.

How can I make her safer when she rejects safety? How can the onus possibly be on me when I have zero power in this situation? I cannot criticize her decisions, I cannot herd all the men and shoot them into Jupiter, I can't stop her from going to club and picking these men up, I can't force her to date or believe me when I tell her that such a man is not good.

So what the fuck else is there to do but warn her? And knowing that my warnings are clearly falling on deaf ears, what the fuck else is there to do but watch or leave?

Do you not see the double bind. I am "protecting her" the only way I can: advising her to stay away.

Ultimately, it seems, maslow is upset that my solution to this whole problem is to tell straight women to forego this pursuit of a loving relationship with a man. She sees it as fundamentally self-centered, divorced from the interests and complexities of heterosexual dating and the rich inner lives of straight women.

As far as I'm concerned, there is no alternative. Radfems, of all people, know there is not. We know men do not rape because they lack education in consent. We know they rape because they want to. We know men do not abuse women because of any romanticized narrative of a tortured, guilty soul, but because it makes them feel good about themselves. Because they want to. We know men re-enforce patriarchy and misogyny, not because they "don't know" women are people but because it benefits them in some way. So WE KNOW that on a micro and macro scale, there is little we can do to appeal to men's humanity (or whatever's left rotting in its place).

So if men won't suddenly transform their hearts and rescue women, and if feminists and separatists can't get rid of men or force women to do anything, then who is left to protect these vulnerable women?

No one but their fucking selves. That's the truth. That's the point. Women are not to blame for what men do to us, but it is our responsibility to look out for ourselves because NO ONE ELSE WILL DO IT. No man is going to rescue us and no woman is going to resist the effects of socialization for us. Resistance and rebellion have to start from within and all I can do is inspire it however I can and seek freedom for myself.

The vision of separatism in feminism is one of women empowered to protect themselves, an acknowledgement of the fact that women only gain rights when we demand them ourselves. No man is going to change because we ask him to. At least, if he did, he'd be the rare exception. Which, you know, good for him. I can't be angry at a man for being genuinely good. It's always a win.

But separatism is a political strategy. "Let women try find a good man" is not. If most men are predatory toward women, then saying "find a good man among them" is shit advice. If it were a strategy, it would be a really shitty one because it CANNOT SCALE. Your political strategy should prioritize the majority of women who WILL NOT be able to find a good man that doesn't take advantage of them, otherwise, it's just elitism. Your personal hope in finding a good man is not a viable political/feminist strategy.

And if it isn't, then why are you demanding feminists take it as such?

#5. Love, Like Beauty, Is Pain

The comparison of femininity and dating men as ritualistic masochism was coming from the culture of women that romanticizes pain in love and beauty, insisting that these things are innate and inescapable, making them out to be virtues. It is glorified masochism and romanticized self-harm. The way we hurt our feet with heels, seek increasingly extreme ways to "correct" our natural physical characteristics and the way we put up with men. "Putting up with men" has been something we've been groomed to do by both our mothers, peers and men at nearly every stage.

This has become so familiar to us, that breaking free from this cycle is scarier than the anticipation of pain. This is also frequently a pointed source of my frustration in this post and other posts similar to it. This is why both femininity and sexual relationships with men are part of the same question and demand proper attention.

I am far from the first feminist to point this out, so I don't know why I'm being made out to be some sort of abuse-enabler for pointing basic feminist analysis like this out. It is this grooming that enables abuse, not advocating against it.

#6. Summary

-I committed no FOA.

-I have contextualized the suffering of these women and analyzed external factors.

-I have empathized explicitly with their pain.

Conclusion: Anti-separatist users continue to decontextualize my quotes in several other areas where context has been adequately provided (and I take responsibility for where it hasn't). The denotation of some of the things I said in this post can be accurately read as victim-blaming, but that is not my intention as one could tell from reading the rest of it. I have not called women who date or marry men anti-feminist, but I have called that decision anti-feminist/non-radical. You can be a feminist and have non-feminist interests or pursuits. That doesn't mean you're entitled to validation from feminists because we are women. Feminism is a political party, not women's club. And choice feminists keep insisting it’s the latter.

Furthermore, I don't mind people questioning my integrity, but I do sincerely ask that they bring receipts. :)

#radblr #separatism #femininity #radfem #radical feminism

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witchyfemking · 2 years ago

Text

🌹🐉Queen/Mother Lilith master-post 🐍🦇

DISCLAIMER

There are many people saying that working with Queen Lilith is closed, id ask that you please go to the last link. A Jewish content creator goes into detail about why 1.) That's false and 2.) Why claiming this is actually antisemitic.

I understand that this deity may hold a negative context to different people/cultures(i.e. people of Jewish culture)/faiths etc. Please be respectful and mindful. Both the people and the divinity have the right to respect. Just because a divinity/entity has been the best thing in the world to you, doesn’t mean that’s the case for someone else(vice versa). Thank you for your consideration.

Mother Lilith is a divinity that I hold very dear. She has been a big help to me and has guided me in my journery of self love and reparenting myself.

Lore/mythology (briefly summarized)

Lilith originally was the first wife of Adam; made from the same primordial matter as her counterpart by the one who created her. She has left the garden in anger because she refused to lay under Adam; Lilith wanted to be seen as Adams equal but he refused. God sent angels to take Lilith back to Eden at Adam’s request. She was located near/in/at the Red Sea. Her children had been slain because of her refusal to return. ( I have heard conflicting info from different sources but I’ll recall what I think is to be more accurate at this point). Some of the fallen angels (a big figure being Lord Lucifer) had made themselves acquainted with her and they had gained each others’ trust. This is the point where Lilith had became a demon and was at least set on the path to becoming a highly ranked Infernal deity(if not at this point already). Lilith at some point after this whispered empowering thoughts into Eve during her dreams; leading her to eat the fruit.

Lilith also has an aspect tied to the Mesopotamian demon Lilitu.

Signs/Symbols of Queen Lilith(some i’ve personally experienced as well):

Snake imagery

Birds( robins, cardinals, blue jays, doves, owls or any corvid/black bird) I’d like to mention that she left me a robin who had passed, cause she knew I’d give it a proper burial.

Witnessing any of her other sacred animals (mentioned below) or frequently seeing imagery of them

Me and other devotees of hers have known her to send really animal that’s black as signs

rose imagery

sudden interest in her

sudden yearning desire to explore oneself/identity

speaking up/ standing up for yourself in circumstances in which you normally wouldn’t

for uterus owners; in my personal experience she had gotten terribly frustrated that i wasn’t noticing her so she started affecting my ‘moon cycle’. I experienced irregularities, increased pain and moodiness. I also got much more fatigued during my time of the month in the time she was trying to get my attention. She may or may not feel the need to do something of this fashion to get your attention; My only assumption that she did so in my case is because I was extremely oblivious. However I highly implore you discuss things with your doctor before concluding that this is the cause.

You may notice the wind howling louder

Vampiric/Succubus imagery/energy

Draconic and/or primordial energy

Energy of water or the ocean

Feeling of not necessarily one certain element (maybe all of them together)

feelings of a motherly energy

dreams/visions of red or dark haired woman( i’ve honestly had her appear to me as blonde). She may be a witch, possibly a queen. She could be protecting you during the experience ( if you’re on her good side ofc)

Sacred animals of Queen Lilith

Snakes

Dragons

Hyenas

Cats of various kinds ( domestic, wild, especially with black or dark coats)

Ostriches

Spiders

Unicorns

Owls

Goats

Bats

What does Queen Lilith specialize in? What can she help you with?

taking back your power

shadow work ( specifically the feminine side of the side)

tapping into/ welcoming your dark feminine energy

welcoming dark femme energy into your life

dark femme workings

defends women/femmes and children who’ve suffered abuse(especially s3xually)

Improving sexual relationships

asserting independence

support in women/womxn’s/femmes rights

fighting oppression/sexisim placed on women/fem identifying people by the patriarchy(or in general)

assistance in gaining respect and/or recognition for contributions

exploring/awakening sexuality (especially if you need assistance with you libido)

sex magic ( more specifically feminine dominance)

Assistance with menstrual magic/spells/rituals

Help in any women/female health issues ( menstrual issues, moods swings, feritility, MtF/FtM etc.)

( i recommend you be treated by a medical professional along with the last point; mundane before magical; magic/spirituality shouldn’t be used in place of medical treatment, simply as support.)

Correspondences/ Offerings

Herbs/Plants/Scents:

Belladonna (POISONOUS)

Nightshade (POISONOUS)

Mugwort ( still use with caution)

Sandalwood(Red + White)

Patchouli

Rose

Jasmine

Lotus

Dragon’s Blood

Cinnamon

Olibanum

Camphor

Myrrh

Jasmine

Frankincense

Amber

Saffron

Crystals:

Onyx

Fire opal

Diamond

Ruby

Obsidian

Topaz

Red Jasper

Red Carnelian

Black Moonstone

Black tourmaline

Jet

Garnet

Clear quartz

Food/Drink:

Chocolate ( Especially anything Dark and/or spicy )

Lime

Pumpkins/ Gourds(idk if gourds are edible tho, but to a deity it doesn’t matter lmao)

Red velvet sweets

Chocolate cake

In my personal experience, she loved these Sriracha Peanut Butter Chocolate Cupcakes I used to be able to get.

Spicy foods

Apples

Pomegranates/Pomegranate juice

Colors:

Black

Reds (Especially blood red or velvet tone)

Purple

Orange

Gold

Magenta

Dark pink

Silver

Dark Grey

Time/Days:

Wednesday

Friday

Witching hour (either Midnight or anytime 3-4 am)

Dark/New Moon phase

Beltane Sabbat/May Day ( sexual theme of the holiday)

Oct. 24 ( some sources claim this is the day Lilith left Eden)

Feb 29 (on leap year. Woman are known to break traditional norms during this time)

Miscellaneous:

Empress (Tarot)

High Priestess (Tarot)

Moon ( Tarot)

Strength (Tarot)

Any Queen Card ( More Specifically to my UPG, Swords and Wands suits)

Air and Fire are her main elements. However, she does not limit herself to one specific element, she has traits of all.

Vampiric/Succubus energy

Draconic/Primordial Energy

What is she like?

To me, Lilith is very much like a mother. Im sure you could probably guess by how I addressed her in the beginning of this post( which I call her Mother Lilith for personal reasons). She very much holds the energy of a firm mother who cares very much for her children. Lilith is very much stern when she feels the need, but knows when you need her to be gentle. Many times she has been a source of comfort and encouragement for me. If you show her the decency and respect she deserves, she will give it to you in return. If she sees you as her child (or holds you dear in anyway) she will go to distant lengths to protect you or to show your abusers not to mess with you again ( at times on her own accord). There are times where she made things difficult for people who wronged me on her own(probably a lot more I don’t know about). Mother Lilith is extremely supportive and will be there when needed, but she will not coddle you. She will not baby you. I see a lot of practitioners say “ she wont hold your hand” that’s true in a sense. Yes there are things you need to face alone, but a mother wont deny holding your hand if needed, she just wont do things for you. She will empower you to do things with independence. Lilith is definitely the kind of mentor to give you a rude wake up call when you’re not acting like yourself or doing things that wont benefit yourself or others. She is not afraid to be mean and wicked with you if need be.

Lilith’s energy generally feels airy and fiery. She carries herself regally and a sense of pride. Like i’ve mentioned, she doesn’t necessarily tie herself to one element, I’ve felt energy of all elements come from her, I assume this comes from her shapeshifting nature.

Sources and links

My own personal experience and UPG

Lilith Queen of the Night

Lilith and Witchcraft

Lilith: The Demonic Paradise Wiki

Lilith ( Occult world entry)

Tumblr users entry on Queen Lilith (i’ve honestly had a rocky history with the author of this post, I hadn’t realized who this was until after I recorded the information, but I still am going to give them credit where it’s due because it’s only right and their post gives solid information)

https://occult-world.com/lilith/

#queen lilith #lilith #demonology #demonolatry #lady lilith #demon #witchcraft #infernal divine #infernal #infernal deity #vampiric #deity work #witchblr #divination #omnist #omnist witch #witch

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serpentface · 2 months ago

Note

I'm sure you've already mentioned this somewhere I couldn't find it, but if you wouldn't mind going over it again/redirecting...

It's very clear that the purpouse of marriage here is to basically give a man a wife to have children for him and not producing babies is quite dishonorable/sus. Janeys handily sidestepped this, but what's the societal norm for women who physically cannot get pregnant/bring a pregnancy to term? Is this grounds for divorce? Or something even harsher?

The function of marriage in this society boils down to ensuring the future of your family line via children, securing wealth for oneself and one's family (via dowry and dower, and political alliances in the case of the marriages of nobility), ensuring support for oneself/one's family (via a wife's domestic labor, a husband as a primary supporter and protector, children who will provide labor and will care for you in old age, a male heir whole will carry your legacy, etc), and even ensuring secure passage to the afterlife (your children have filial obligations to ensure you get a proper funeral, the blood bond between a husband/wife is thought to help guide a lost soul if they die without being able to obtain rites).

Social norms regarding a man's expected performance of masculinity as a patriarch are deeply wrapped up into and built on top of this, but it's much more complex than Just benefiting a man's social standing. The blood family is the fundamental social unit and sense of identity in this society- you are your family name before you are an individual, you have profound obligations towards your family and ensuring its survival (both literally in a life or death sense, and in the sense of preventing the end of a line). Nobility generally don't have to worry about obtaining marriage for basic subsistence (though marriage and childbearing still has other squarely practical functions) which is where you see concerns about honor being most preeminent, but maintaining your family name and line in good standing IS understood as a survival concern.

So all that being said, yeah it's a problem if a woman cannot get pregnant or bear offspring to term. In cases where the HUSBAND is infertile, the wife stands a strong chance of being blamed (there is most often no way to prove otherwise in the immediate term, and the wife herself will generally have no way of knowing for certain that it Isn't her). A woman's infertility isn't something that's going to be 'punished' per se (outside of individual cases of abusive husbands), the main response is just going to be divorce (and this is probably the most common reason for divorces).

This is still a very bad situation for a young woman to be in. Being divorced on grounds of infertility (real or imagined) DRASTICALLY lowers your chances of being remarried, which is a matter of security and survival for a woman in this society. Your likeliest chance at remarriage is that a MUCH older widower who already has a set of healthy and/or adult children will be interested in taking you on as a wife, and this is hardly a given. Fathers will also sometimes refuse to reclaim daughters who were divorced on grounds of infertility- this Sometimes has practical elements (especially in cases of poverty, where taking her back is another mouth to feed), and sometimes purely a matter of shame. (Note that this is not THE standard practice, and will often be regarded as perhaps understandable but notably cruel, some will even consider this to be an outright flouting of familial obligations).

A lot of women will also attempt to determine their fertility prior to marriage, and a prospective wife being examined for signs of infertility is highly encouraged (if not an outright prerequisite, especially among nobility). Part of the job of many midwives and all higher echelon physician-priestesses is determining fertility, and they can be hired for pre and post-marital examinations. [This comic mentions it, Hibrides has been suspiciously not pregnant after Janeys going 'yeah I've definitely knocked her up, probably. Bye' and ditching, examined by a midwife yet again at his mother's behest, and determined to be fertile] [This is a distinctly unpleasant and humiliating experience].

Divorce is not usually the First response when a couple struggles to conceive (it's within a man's rights to call for it, but this is rarely a pragmatic move due to the massive resource investment in a marriage to begin with). A Huge portion of traditional medicinal practices focus on improving/ensuring fertility (both male and female), and both spouses will change their diet to include fertility-enhancing foods and take/wear medicines when trying to conceive, and may undergo intensive medicinal regimes if they're struggling.

Religious practice is another avenue for navigating conception issues, and fertility is of MASSIVE significance to this faith (in all its aspects- that of humans, the earth, livestock, rivers, wild animals, etc). The Faces Mitlamache, Ganmache, and Anaemache are most relevant to human fertility (with the latter having associations Specific to pregnancy) and blessings from their priests, prayers and personal offerings, and sacrifices to these Faces are thought to be able to increase fertility or (potentially) cure sterility. Odomache has a role as a protector of pregnant women and of children (superficially disparate to Its warfare and sovereignty functions, but womens' struggles through labor is likened to a combat, especially given high rates of death in childbirth and Very high rates of infant mortality), and Odonii provide blessings to encourage a healthy pregnancy and delivery. A lot of public festivals and rites have at least partial functions specific to female fertility (the annual rites to Anaemache are mostly participated in by women who are pregnant or hoping to conceive).

All this being said, sometimes husbands and wives actually do like, love each other. Marriage in this society is usually arranged (SOME lower class marriages are self-selected but the marriages of noblemen are basically never Not arranged) and the institution of marriage is NOT about romantic interest by any means (though its a standard hope that love will develop with time), but men who are deeply attached to their wives might struggle to pull the pragmatic move of divorcing in the face of clear infertility. You'll see some couples struggling to conceive for years and pouring all their efforts into medical and spiritual intervention (perhaps even making a show of it) without the husband ever hitting the escape button.

Adoption does Exist as a thing (though the extreme importance projected upon blood lineage (and particularly blood Heirs) makes many men more hesitant than is practical, the vast majority of adoptions occur when a man already has secured at least one biological heir). An adopted child is not considered a true blood relative, but rites surrounding adoption involve blood-sharing to establish the child as both legal and spiritual kin, and establishes standard familial obligations (this same sort of kinship rite is involved in marriage and sworn brotherhood). Opting for a divorce in the face of infertility tends to be Much more common than adoption, but the latter can fill all purely pragmatic functions needed of a child in marriage, and couples who are deeply attached to one another are likely to take this route.

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aclowntiny · 1 year ago

Note

hiii happy 700‼️‼️ you talented, talented writer. you’re just so engaging.. of course you’d gain this audience :p

anywhooo, can i request little scenarios of how the atz members show (what you think) their love languages to their s.o.

🥹🥹🥹 you're too sweet!!! That really means the world to me as someone who dreams of becoming a legit writer someday! Well I'm really glad you're a part of that audience 🥰

Ateez + Love Languages

Hongjoong- Words of Affirmation + Quality Time

♡ Hongjoong knows the feeling of doubting oneself, the journey toward confidence. How some days it feels complete, others are a total step back, but to him, people who love each other will always show their appreciation & support visibly, audibly. He tries to tell you you’re doing enough, but also motivate you to be your best with reminders of how well you’re doing, so you can keep going!

♡ Being so busy, Hongjoong is going to milk the crap out of time you get together. Plus, as someone who sees himself falling slowly for someone & forming an emotional connection, time at your side is how he’s going to feel bonded to you. It upsets him if someone interrupts or if you blow it off by spending it all on your phone or the like.

♡ Compliments your outfits of courseeee! He can tell when you’re either A. Totally rocking your style, thusly he must hype your awesomeness up or B. Feeling less confident if you’re going out of your comfort zone, thusly he shall reassure you that you look amazing in everything! He appreciates you challenging yourself so long as you’re doing it for yourself & feeling ok.

♡ Sometimes all he wants to do is just sit with you & look at you like a lil fool in love because he just can’t believe he gets to be with you 🥺

♡ “You know you can talk to me about anything, right? I won’t judge you. It’s hard to lean on others sometimes, but I want to be someone you can lean on, ok?”

♡ Invites you into his time, like bringing you on coffee breaks or asking you to reform clothes with him. You KNOW the piece you customize is going to become a favorite of his just because it’s had your hands on it & came from your beautiful mind! & how do you know? He tells you so himself 😌

♡ Writes the most poetic love messages on sticky notes & leaves them on your stuff like it isn’t going to short-circuit you before work. Especially since sometimes they can be a bit spicy 🫣

♡ Even at his busiest, he tries to meet you for coffee or lunch breaks, heart leaping at the way you always remind him to eat & drink to stay healthy. Midday breaks work well for your schedule & give him a break from hitting that ‘work wall’ classic of afternoons. You remind him to take care of himself & make his day with your mere presence. It gives him energy, perspective on why he does what he does.

Seonghwa- Acts of Service + Quality Time

♡ He’s naturally very caring & capable, so doing things to take care of you is second nature to Seonghwa. The domesticity also brings joy to his heart, just feeling like you’re living in harmony, swapping tasks like couples in later stages do. It helps him look to the future.

♡ But being together is enough for him, even if it’s doing something small like listening to music together or building a relaxing, simple lego set. Just having you at his side is enough for him, it doesn’t have to be elaborate.

♡ “Oh hey you’re back? While I was housesitting I reorganized your closet & deep cleaned! ☺️” “You what?” You gape. “I didn’t fold the laundry yet, maybe we could do it together?”

♡ ADORES pampering you! Loves doing little spa day type things & doing your hair, anything to feel close to you & help you vent & unwind after your day.

♡ Cooks 👏🏻 for 👏🏻 you 👏🏻 this man will learn how to make your favorite meal if he can so he can surprise you with it! Especially if you have a long day at work.

♡ Please let him talk to you about all the cool Star Wars facts he’s learned or about what he’s collecting, it’ll make him so happy & you get to see Seonghwa all lit up with that wonderful childlike smile of joy. He needs a partner who will listen & support the things he loves 😌

♡ Sick? This guy has you covered! You won’t have to move a muscle. He’ll make you soup, heat a water bottle for you, bring you medicine, put on your favorite comfort show or movie to watch, give you more blankets…shall I go on?

♡ 100 percent a stargazing date guy. Just you & him, bodies tangled & voices hushed in the breeze? SPACE??? Sign Seonghwa up! He’d fly you to the moon to spend time with you if he could!

Yunho- Acts of Service + Gifts

♡ Yunho loves doing little things for you, especially if it’s reaching things up high for someone shorter 😉 it’s like a good version of being devious, like he gets a special proud pleasure over sneakily surprising you with tasks you thought you’d have to do being done. Ha, take that, surprise love & care!

♡ In that same vein, Yunho loves your wide-eyed look when he whips out your favorite dessert or a new accessory or a cute collectible that’ll look perfect on your shelf, anything that made him think of you.

♡ He loves being able to teach you things, so secretly he’s always waiting for you to ask him ‘how’ questions. Seeing your approach to new information is refreshing & he loves feeling like you two are sharing knowledge.

♡ Your shoes are hurting your feet? BUYS YOU A NEW PAIR OF SHOES before the date can continue! He may straight-up carry you some too.

♡ This man will carry ANYTHING you might need in his bag. You take meds? He has some. Have long hair? He’s got hair ties. Need products like pads? A few are squirreled away where the guys won’t see, but you can always find them.

♡ Almost anything you get him, he walks around & shows everyone like it’s made of gold, even if it’s just flowers or chocolates, because you’re his Midas & everything you touch is gold 🥰

♡ Lets you steal pretty much all of his clothing tbh. Thinks it’s so cute to see you in it & can justify with almost anything why you need it more. You’re colder, he has more gloves than you do, you look really hot in it…

♡ Even starts buying things for himself in colors you like hoping you will soon be anticipating you stealing it hehe. Also gets more of the cologne you like the best so they smell how you like 🤭

Yeosang- Quality Time + Words of Affirmation

♡ Being introverted, it’s a big deal for Yeosang when time with another person can still be recharging, still feel like he’s taking some for himself, & with you he has that. You can be comfortable in silence together or just gently holding each other & it’s perfect. Your conversations are so fun, too, as random topics just fly into his head & you play off them so well!

♡ As much as people stereotype him as being sassy, he’s a very sweet & comforting person, too, so he’ll share with you the sweetest nothings! His innocent eyes find beauty in silly little things you don’t even appreciate or recognize about yourself.

♡ Yeosang loves cute activities like tea parties or picnics where you can sit & chat & enjoy scenery, food, & each other’s company! Just quiet time to be side by side away from the world.

♡ Leans in with a conspiratorial expression while you’re out, only to whisper in your ear that you’re beautiful.

♡ Has lowkey always dreamed of doing one of those DIY date nights in with the blanket fort, so that’s what he does one evening when you come over! He has it all built & lit up, but you guys prepare snacks & pick the movie before cozying up inside.

♡ Instead of telling you you’re going to be amazing at everything, Yeosang is the type to be a bit more realistic & remind you that even if it’s not perfect at first, you’ll only get better from there! There’s no such thing as failure, just learning experiences.

♡ Get ready for the most intense eye contact of your life. Yeosang can make you blush with the way he stares at you alone. He can hold so much weight of meaning with just one look.

♡ When you aren’t together, he makes sure to tell you it isn’t the same without you so you never doubt if he misses you or thinks of you when you’re not there.

San- Physical Touch + Words of Affirmation

♡ Cuddly boy 🥲 Sannie hugs you like his life depends on it but don’t worry he also gives the best most loving hugs ever fite me

♡ Confidence hasn’t always been his strong suit, so even if he gets taken aback by it, San really appreciates reminders that he’s doing well & how important he is. Just because he wishes to hear those things doesn’t mean it’s one-sided though, because he easily will say the sweetest encouragement to everyone he loves!

♡ One of his habits is running his thumb across your knuckles or the back of your hand when you’re next to each other 🥺

♡ Looks at any hobby or project you do with sparkling eyes of amazement, telling you how cool it is to have any given random skill! If you show him how he playfully calls you teacher.

♡ If you guys walk by a road, he’ll pull you to the inside so he’s the one walking closest to traffic. & if by chance his hand stays at your waist when you walk, oh darn 🤷🏻‍♀️

♡ Has deep conversations with you where you lay on your backs together, heads lightly touching as you look up at nothing, & discuss things like your place in the world & how you want to be remembered. After it’s all said & done, silence descending again, San tells you you make him feel important & your heart fills at his genuine tone.

♡ As if he can read your mind, he knows when you’re stressed out, & when you are he’ll rub up & down your arm or draw soothing circles on your back.

♡ Texts you good morning every single morning you’re apart & tells you he loves you so loving words are what you wake up to even if he isn’t there to share them 🥲

Mingi- Words of Affirmation + Physical Touch

♡ Mingi enjoys receiving compliments, so he naturally tries to give them too! He loves hyping you up especially if you get all cute & shy.

♡ We’re well aware this man LOVES holding hands! It’s his little habit & he loves the connected feeling of your intertwined fingers. If you hold on tight it makes Mingi feel so loved please do it!

♡ “wOW YOU LOOK SO GOOD BABE OH MY GOSHHHH!!!” “Mingi, that’s embarrassing!” “I don’t care, you’re hot! Woohoo!”

♡ Physically lifts you??? Expect to ride up on Mingi’s shoulders & get carried bridal/style when he feels like scooping you up, either out of mischief or to flirt 😘 it adds some ✨zest✨ to a kiss you know?

♡ The words of others are often put into context. “You know anything negative they say without cause reflects more on them than on you, right?” They may be simple reminders, but they really help.

♡ Gets excited like a big puppy & pulls you around to look at things 🥺 takes you by the hand or shoulder to guide you without thinking most of the time honestly.

♡ Mingi likes to feel needed, so he asks you if you need his help or want him to come with you to do things a lot. On the flip side, he always picks you on his team when he can & asks for your help too, telling you he can’t do whatever he’s doing without you! Calls you his good luck charm!

♡ Big spoon alert! Mingi holds you so tight against his chest like you’re what keeps his heart beating. Probably because you basically are & he’ll tell you that.

Wooyoung- Physical Touch + Gifts

♡ We all know Wooyoung loves to touch & be touched 🤭 it's definitely a way for him to show love & appreciation!

♡ He also absolutely ADORES feeling like he's spoiling you, it makes him feel so proud & seeing your smile at a surprise melts him like little else!

♡ “You got me the necklace I was looking at? But it was so expensive, I-” “Shhh,” smiling proudly, Wooyoung pats your cheek, “don’t worry about that. I wanted to. I already know what your next one will look like too~ That one will have my initials on it!”

♡ Man will have a hand on you CONSTANTLY!!! If you’re sitting next to each other his arm is around your shoulder or his hand is on your knee/thigh. When you walk, his arm is around your waist, linked with yours, or he’s reaching to grab your hand.

♡ Buys ridiculous corny couple items & expects you to actually wear them 😅 but he also gets you tastefully coordinated pieces to his so that makes up for it.

♡ *Puts his hands over your eyes* “Guess who?” POUTS if you get it wrong, but then gives you a hell of a kiss “to jog your memory” 👀

♡ Thinks it’s really dashing to surprise you with flowers, so he’ll pull a single red rose out of nowhere for you, smiling roguishly, or show up at your door with a bouquet in hand!

♡ Sneaks up behind you to tickle you or scoop you into his arms suddenly because he likes the noises of surprise you make & thinks it’s funny if you fight back. Tells you how cute you are no matter how you react.

Jongho- Acts of Service + Quality Time

♡ Being a practical person, Jongho likes finding concrete ways to make your life easier; in his mind, it shows how much he cares in a way that doesn't take up space & serves as a legitimate reminder that he firmly views relationships as partnerships. Neither of you two are truly alone in anything.

♡ In a similar vein, Jongho is a very active listener- when you're speaking, as much as possible his focus & consideration will be on you. When you're together, he sees that as time for bonding, even if you aren't doing anything too romantic or extravagant. The effort & comfort in each other's presence is the most important thing!

♡ You will never lift another heavy object in your life as long as Mr. Choi Jongho can help it. It’ll get scooped right up out of your arms like it’s nothing.

♡ He’ll lowkey smack anyone who tries to interrupt your time together/conversation hehe >:) like shut up, I’m not talking to you!!! I’m talking to my s/o 🤚🏼

♡ It’s not something often thought of as an act of service, but Jongho is really good at coming up with encouraging solutions when you’re stressed & making your problems seem that much smaller once you talk to him.

♡ Jongho really puts effort into going places or doing things you like, even if it’s not his thing. Being pretty tolerant & laid-back, he just rationalizes it as another chance to have time with you. Plus he gets to enjoy seeing you in your element!

♡ Wants to make all your goals reality. If you resolve to start working out more, he’ll go with you to the gym & keep it a habit. Maybe you want to study something? He’ll learn practice questions to ask you or hold your flash cards for you ☺️

♡ Though he’s not the most touchy-feely person, sometimes he likes to backhug you or just drape his arms over you while you sit to feel you & make his presence known, even if you two aren’t having an involved conversation. Most of the time he just stands at your side or behind you because he feels like just being in each other’s presence is reassuring & harmonious.

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez reactions #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #hongjoong #seonghwa #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho #gender neutral reader #requested #xlli3

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idontknowreallywhy · 4 months ago

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75-3

Final part of this fluffy nonsense. Yea it’s mildly unhinged… but once the idea of Scott tormenting his offspring by being outrageous took me… well… who am I to argue?

Again a warning for old people being romantic ;) (at what point do I need to make this Teen rating on AO3? Perhaps it has crossed that line with all this insinuation 😏)

Part 1 / Part 2

💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

Kala Patthar was one of their favourites.

It was objectively a beautiful sunrise, of course. But there were other reasons that wouldn’t have made it into the guidebook.

By 2077 the Tracy villa and all of its many architecturally improbable extensions was teeming with life. And trip hazards. If there wasn’t a bum-shuffling toddler lying in wait for the unwary around every corner it would be one of the multitude of domestic animals that had begun to take over in the years since Grandpa Jeff uttered the immortal words “Aww I’m sure a couple of kittens or a bunny rabbit wouldn’t hurt…”

Or perhaps the unsuspecting might fall foul of a horde of stampeding kindergarteners cackling over some nefarious plan to make the lives of the Tracy adults just that little bit more Interesting this morning.

Or worse, TEENAGERS. Several of these had seemingly sprung from nowhere to lurk moodily in doorways, complain about adult incompetence, monopolise the holoscreen and consume a significant chunk of the Tracy fortune in snack form.

Suffice to say, it was busy. And with apparent responsibility for two of the grouchy teenagers, the most devious of the kindergarteners and the loudest of the toddlers, Scott and his long suffering wife had their hands full. And their brains. Chances to escape grew scarce and any idea of a semblance of privacy anywhere on the Island was absolutely laughable. Most trips off-island had become taxi journeys for a horde of offspring (theirs or a sibling’s… it mattered little) desperate to see “the real world”. Such was the life of a parent. They wouldn’t have changed it for anything. And yet.

And yet.

It was on Scott’s 45th birthday that, doubtless to enable some grand surprise-party-esque scheme in his absence, Virgil had insisted on the weary pair leaving the island for a few hours to, in his words “just do something, anything, as long as it is somewhere else”. And so they’d taken off in One and set a course for the next impressive sunrise they could make it in time for - the one reflected off the highest mountain on the planet, best viewed hovering a few thousand feet above the smaller peak of Kala Patthar.

Despite the close proximity of the new co-pilot seat, it had quickly became clear that Thunderbird One was just too shouty for any kind of conversation to take place without yelling oneself hoarse or using the IR comms system. As that wasn’t always ideal for training and so on, Brains had installed small headsets so the two pilots could communicate privately.

Of course a truly private conversation was a rare treat and Scott had taken full advantage of that during the half hour flight to their destination. As it turned out, he had a lot of ideas about how they might spend their free morning and had run them by her in some detail.

By the time they arrived she was wound so very tightly she’d leapt over the top of the seat before he’d even got the autopilot engaged. It had been a more than little hairy for a moment, albeit they both dissolved into hysterics as soon as it was clear One wasn’t about to become an unexplained fireball to add to the mystique of the mountain range below them.

Scott smiled to himself at the memory. Perhaps not their most responsible hour… In any case, the mutual near death experience had led to child five’s eventual appearance… so all’s well…

This morning, the journey was necessarily longer and the conversation perhaps a little more suitable-for-all-audiences. But he treasured it all the same. The sound of her voice never failed to soothe the uncertain, scratchy parts of his soul. Together, things just made more sense.

One’s cheerful song filled the rest of his hearing and everything was right with the world. Without travelling a whisker over Mach 7 they reached the Himalayas well before dawn managed to. After ensuring the autopilot would do the business this time (see, he could learn), Scott pushed back the shoulder guards, leaned around and reached back to grasp his wife’s hand.

“Right, give me a second.” She took a breath and steadied herself before reaching a foot tentatively forwards towards the footplate. She was a little less sure of her step these days, her famously steady hand shaking a little within their white knuckled grip on each other. He worried about that, the same way he worried that she was a little slower, a little thinner.

A little more fragile.

But then, he supposed, so was he.

If she slipped, could he still pull her up? He thought so, he was still lifting rather more in the gym than his medic-approved fitness plan recommended. But even then, the entirety of her body weight dangling by one arm would likely be… bad… for her arthritic shoulder.

He twisted more and reached around with his other arm to catch her round the waist. His back complained a little. He ignored it. Mostly. At least, he didn’t groan out loud. You’re not old until it’s audible.

Perhaps at some point the two of them would have to admit this was a ridiculous thing for a couple of their age to be doing and find a park bench to sit on to watch the sunrise like all the normal, sensible OAPs. But as she finally made it around to the front, fell into his lap and snuggled against his shoulder he thanked whoever might be listening that today was not that day. They had never really achieved normal or sensible so it seemed a little late to start pretending now.

His arms settled around her as naturally as they always had. He buried his face in her hair, as silver now as his own had been for the last twenty years, but the scent that surrounded him was the same as the first day he’d held her.

A shaft of gold burst over the horizon and bathed them in its warmth. They both knew full well the ship was so highly insulated that the internal temperature sensor wouldn’t even have flickered but they’d both swear they felt it even so.

These days they appreciated the unique view a little more. For a few minutes at least.

She’d obviously been pondering the same memories he had as, with a little huff of mirth she raised an arm to point out one of the shadowy outcrops below.

“You know… it must be thirty years to the day since I almost made you nosedive into that particularly pointy hunk of rock.”

“I believe you’re right…” He couldn’t resist a little smirk “… although it didn’t end so badly as I recall… happy birthday to me.”

She looked up at him. He looked back. The eye twinkling thing was involuntary, it really was. Apparently she thought otherwise and whacked him on the chest.

“Stop that train of thought right there, old man, I’m not as agile as I was.”

He pouted. She raised an eyebrow. He finally gave into the desire to stroke it softly and murmured:

“Can’t help it, you being so pretty and all.”

She blushed then, which made everything ten times worse and they forgot about the sunrise for a while.

As if summoned by the earlier conversation, the resulting and now very much grown-up child in question appeared on the comm but neither of them noticed Mal’s hologram pop up until the horrified squawk transported Scott immediately back to Alan’s teenage years.

“Dad, what the hell are you doing in Kathma… MOM! DAAAAD! Aaaaaggggghhhh my eyessss. You can’t DO that in a Thunderbird, it should be illegal!”

She giggled. Scott’s lip quirked. Apparently the near completion of his third decade had not entirely exorcised the angst-ridden whine. Scott refused to lift his eyes from her face but winked and dropped his voice into the tone that still made all but one of his children jump to attention:

“Do what, exactly, Malcolm?”

There was a pause, before the whine intensified in another direction:

“Uncle Virgil! Dad and Mom are… are… well… SMOOCHING in One and it’s inappropriate and… and unhygienic, please tell him to stop.”

A familiar rumbling laugh could be heard retreating in the background as his brother firmly refused to get involved. Uncle Gordon, however, clearly saw an opportunity to broaden the education of his clearly-far-too-sheltered 29 year old nephew:

“I’d wager he’s done a lot worse than that young Mallie. Oh the stories that little silver firework could tell…”

“That’s no way to talk about your sister in law.” John interjected.

Scott snorted and his wife cackled.

“Don’t call me Mallie. And ugh, I did NOT need that mental image!”

It would have been a waste not to fully appreciate his son’s tormented facial expression and he would never be fully able to turn down the chance to show Gordon how it was done. Thus Scott kissed his beloved on the nose then finally looked up at the hologram with a smirk:

“Just as well for you really, son, else you would not have existed.”

The jaw drop was most pleasing. As was the subsequent gulping fish impression.

“That… that is not the sort of thing a person needs to know about… himself.”

“I didn’t know you were such a bashful butterfly, Marshmallow.” It seemed his mother was unable to resist a little light teasing of her own - the deployment of the childhood nickname a low blow.

“I’m not! It’s just… at your age… it’s not safe! I bet you have no safety harnesses! One is more risky than the others. What about your heart, Dad?”

A line had been crossed. Nobody made reference to that little… incident… and got away with it. Particularly when they were the prime suspect in yesterday’s washbasin-lizard prank that had probably put more strain on the senior Tracy heart than any more pleasurable pursuits could inflict.

Revenge could take so many forms…

“I’ve ravished your mother in plenty more dangerous places, Malcolm, and plan to continue to do so as long as possible. So unless there was a pressing question you had… I’d like to get back to the task in hand.”

He squeezed her knee and winked. She whalloped him again and hissed his name disapprovingly while utterly failing to convey any sense of genuine disapproval.

He was going too far and he knew it, the poor lad had gone from hologram blue to hologram purple and he could hear Gordon guffawing fit to rupture something in the background. But when he could feel the love of his life pressed against his chest and shaking with silent hysterics he couldn’t stop himself. He’d always loved making her laugh… it was his greatest weakness.

“You… I cannot believe you said that, Father. Out loud. I… I am returning your birthday present!”

Scott was about to feign a sad face when a quiet comment whispered into his ear made him cackle.

“Awww shucks, but I guess I’ll live. Your Mom reckons hers will make up for it.”

It was good for the self-proclaimed heir to Gordon’s throne to be on the receiving end of the teasing for once and Scott had no regrets. Although he did choke slightly when the raven haired 13-year old offspring of his eldest daughter wandered into shot, grinning, gave a cheeky salute and called “Go Grandpa!”

He was for it now.

“Now look what you’ve done! She’ll be traumatised! And Loopy Lu will kill you dead. Deader than dead.”

“Not if she hears you call her that first, she’ll be too busy hunting you to bother with me. Why don’t you go and be a supportive uncle and minimise the terrible trauma I’ve inflicted. We’ll be back for dinner.”

“You’d better.”

A finger was wagged with impotent menace.

“And if you’re smiling sickeningly when you are… there will be consequences!”

“Good to know.” Scott swiped the hologram away.

They sat together quietly for a few moments, content with just the sound of each other’s breath. The sun had truly risen now and was already too bright to look at. Scott pushed away the irritation at missing the moment - the sun rose every day after all - they didn’t need the excuse of An Occasion to come and watch that particular little trick. They could even come back tomorrow. Although maybe he would try to find some sort of light harness… just in case.

His wife chuckled to herself again and sighed “We probably won’t live that one down for a while.”

Scott lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles one by one.

“What would you like to do now?”

She paused for a moment as she ran her fingers through the hair at the back of his neck. “Pigeon Island isn’t far… you could land and we could go for a walk along the shore?”

“It’ll be pretty empty down there at this time of day.”

“Precisely.”

He grinned and put his hands back on the control levers.

“Well as we have been vigorously reminded, health and safety is paramount so you’d better hold on tight, Mrs Tracy.”

“I always do.”

Thunderbird One performed a wide arc over the highest place Earth had to offer before her scram jets squealed in delight as the trio chased the dawn across the sky.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #scott tracy #unnamed wife of Scott Tracy #idontknowreallywhy fanfic #romance #old people romance klaxon #Thunderfluff

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justinssportscorner · 5 months ago

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Matt Gertz at MMFA:

American women covered their country in Olympic glory in Paris on Thursday. Katie Ledecky broke the record for most swimming medals won by a woman when the U.S. team captured silver in the 4x200-meter freestyle, while Simone Biles won gold in her second women’s gymnastics all-around Olympics event and her teammate Suni Lee took the bronze. But on this side of the Atlantic, the American right was apparently more interested in bemoaning the purported death of women’s sports than cheering on their compatriots. The leading lights of the right-wing media spent Thursday melting down over an Olympics welterweight boxing match between two women from Algeria and Italy as they sought to drum up a ragefest they could use to firm up Donald Trump’s wavering election prospects against Vice President Kamala Harris.

Imane Khelif of Algeria won her Olympics boxing match against Italy’s Angela Carini when Carini forfeited after taking several blows to the face in the fight’s opening seconds (in boxing, for those unfamiliar with the sport, competitors try to hit each other in the head as hard as they can and can win by rendering their opponent unconscious). The U.S. right quickly seized on the match and plugged it into their obsessive anti-trans hysteria, falsely declaring Khelif a man who had beaten up a woman.

If you want to know more about Khelif — a veteran of international women’s boxing competition who was eliminated in the quarterfinal round of the 2020 Tokyo Olympics and whose passport, from a country where you cannot legally change your gender, identifies her as female — read Paolo Armelli’s story on the controversy for Wired. If you are interested in the history of sports competitions grappling with complex questions about the gender and sex of athletes, my former colleague Parker Molloy wrote nuanced pieces on the subject for Vice News, CJR, and at her Substack.

What was quite clear on Thursday, however, is that the weirdo right, obsessed with conducting bizarre “transvestigations,” doesn’t care about any of this. They simply want to misgender Khelif, invoke the rage associated with domestic violence by claiming she is a man punching a woman, and channel the resulting outrage and anti-trans hate into their own political gain.

A MAGA media frenzy quickly ensued on X after the match, with Riley Gaines, the right-wing activist who built her career complaining about trans women competing in sports, at the heart of the outburst. [...]

This sustained freakout is a perfect example of how the right-wing media has become pickled in its own outrage. They simply cannot let themselves — or anyone else — enjoy good things that normal Americans enjoy, like the dominance of U.S. women at the Olympics. Instead, they build their audiences and make their money by constantly trying to find something they can get mad about. Being a right-winger in good standing in recent years has required working oneself into a culture war frenzy over the NFL, Budweiser beer, Disney movies, Beyoncé, and Taylor Swift, among other all-American icons. [...]

“This is where Kamala Harris's ideas about gender lead: to a grown man pummeling a woman in a boxing match,” vice presidential nominee JD Vance posted to X on Thursday. “This is disgusting, and all of our leaders should condemn it.” His running mate — who a jury found liable for sexual abuse, and who was introduced at the Republican National Convention last month by a man who had been captured on video hitting his wife in the face — chimed in. “I WILL KEEP MEN OUT OF WOMEN’S SPORTS!” Trump posted to Truth Social.

Other Republican politicians, including Texas Gov. Greg Abbott; Reps. Lauren Boebert of Colorado, Anthony D’Esposito of New York, Greg Steube of Florida, and Mike Collins of Georgia; North Carolina gubernatorial nominee Mark Robinson and Senate nominees Hung Cao of Virginia and Kari Lake of Arizona also contributed to the sick debate. Normal people are too busy cheering for American champions like Ledecky and Biles to spend their time doing chalkboard scrawls explaining how Kamala Harris should be blamed for who Algeria sends to the Olympics. But with Trump’s polling lead slipping away and his campaign apparently trying to reignite by focusing on what appeals to the party’s weirdo wing, we can expect much more of this in the months to come.

The right-wing Weirdo Caucus were big mad over two cisgender women boxers to push an anti-trans narrative, and as usual, the likes of anti-trans extremists such as J.K. Rowling, Riley Gaines, Charlie Kirk, and Clay Travis led the charge of faux outrage against Imane Khelif and Lin Yu-Ting’s participation in women’s boxing under the guise of “defending women’s sports.”

See Also:

Awful Announcing: Predictably, the Olympics are bringing out the worst in us

The Advocate: Attacks on Imane Khelif prove what we've long known: Transphobia hurts cis women, too

Out: The transphobia Imane Khelif is experiencing isn't new—it's part of a disturbing, hateful pattern

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theflyindutchwoman · 1 year ago

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That looks good. Mm, thank you. Hey. There are other rooms in the apartment for that.

| ANATOMY OF A SCENE - CHENFORD EDITION 5.20 - S.T.R.

This scene is just so soft… It's the perfect complement to their previous moments in Death Notice or A Hole in the World, the imagery of domesticity getting somehow stronger… They exude this energy of finally being at home. Of serenity.

The way Tim looks like he's been living there ever since they started dating, making breakfast for his girls, whispering to himself… It's such a far cry from when he couldn't even be bothered to check with Ashley if she wanted something to eat while preparing a gourmet meal for Kojo, even putting some distance between them as fast as possible. And here he is now, cooking for Lucy, absolutely loving it when she gets into his personal space… That big grin… The man is the definition of besotted. And that soft little kiss… As always with them, one kiss is never enough, they simply need more. It's how he leaves everything behind so he can follow her to get another kiss… He really is like a moth to her flames, unable to resist. Neither of them can, for that matter...

Well, that is until Tamara interrupts them. And while her timing can get frustrating, I love how she no longer feels out of place around them, appearing so much more confident and at ease instead, like when she pushes them apart playfully. And as disappointed Tim looks at first, he recovers quickly… The way he is checking out Lucy and how she instantly gets closer to him again… The magnetism between these two is just that strong. But they still include Tamara. And Tim's look of pure happiness when he finds out that she woke up specifically for his pancakes, while Lucy is watching lovingly the two of them bicker… This moment encapsulates this feeling of being at home so well.

And this is much needed in light of the other interruption… One that Tim completely forgot about because he saw Lucy in the shower and his brain basically short-circuited again. Like in Vegas. Only now they get to live out their best life… No need to distract oneself by watching sports. Lucy hitting him playfully to stop him from divulging more in front of Tamara, who looks so done with them! That is the face of someone who has seen and heard way more than she ever wanted. Not to mention how she has to push them apart, again, to answer the door, since Tim was two seconds away fron forgetting his train of thoughts, again, after his trip down memory lane… They really can't help themselves.

#the rookie #chenford #chenfordedit #lucy chen #tim bradford #5.20 #4.10 #Anatomy of a scene - Chenford Edition

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scarabsinthestardust · 13 days ago

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Tender // Ch. 8

MASTERLIST

word count: 4300+

Friends, this has been a wild rollercoaster ride. I can't begin to explain how appreciative I am of the readers that stuck with me on this one (and the ones who gave it a shot, even if you didn't keep reading). With that being said, this is the last chapter of Tender. HOWEVER, it is not the end of the story, and it is not the last time we will see Finn. Things are going to get much worse before they get better, but good things are coming Josh's way. (I promise I'll stop bullying him soon ;-;) Keep an eye out for the next installment in this shitshow, Right on Time.

CHAPTER WARNINGS: language; angst; social drinking; alcoholism; mentions of rehab; post-traumatic stress disorder; other unspecified undiagnosed mental illness; fever; vomiting; nightmares; mentions of previous child abuse; some scary images; unintentional self-harm; dissociating; mentions of cheating; toxic and manipulative behavior; physical violence; domestic abuse; fisticuffs; injuries; blood; panic attack; desire to die but not necessarily suicidal ideation

When I was in rehab, the psychiatrist alluded to the possibility that I had post-traumatic stress disorder. I had gotten defensive, telling him he was grasping at straws and just trying to get me diagnosed with something so they could pump me full of drugs. The more he pestered me, trying to pry into my life and delve into my childhood, the angrier I got, until I eventually blew up on him. I didn’t get physically violent, but I said quite a lot of hurtful things to the man, who was just trying to do his job.

Some time later, when Josh was fast asleep and I couldn’t get my mind to shut up, I got curious and did some of my own research.

Post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) is a mental health condition that is caused by an extremely stressful or terrifying event – either being part of it or witnessing it. Symptoms may include flashbacks, nightmares, severe anxiety, and uncontrollable thoughts about the event.

Once I started reading about it, I couldn’t stop. I just kept digging that hole deeper and deeper.

Emotional numbness. Avoidance. Hypervigilance. Sleep issues. Difficulty concentrating. Feelings of hopelessness. Negative thoughts about oneself or the world. Ongoing negative emotions such as fear, anger, guilt, or shame. Feeling detached or numb. Irritability and having angry outbursts. Behaving recklessly or in a self-destructive way.

I didn’t care to look through the treatment, because in my mind, that meant I would have to admit the psychiatrist was right. It would mean I was actually sick, that there was something legitimately wrong with me and it wasn’t all in my head. But the part that scared me the most was it meant Josh wouldn’t be able to save me.

“You’re burning up, baby.” Josh frets as he feels my forehead with the back of his hand. “Hang on, let me find the thermometer.”

“I’m fine,” I try to reassure him, but I’m fatigued and don’t have the energy to make it convincing. I close my eyes and will the pounding in my head to stop. Josh returns with a thermometer, a glass of water, and Tylenol.

“101.1. We’ll have to watch it. If it gets higher, I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“I don’t want to go to the fucking hospital,” I mumble.

“If it gets worse, I’m not giving you a choice. Here.”

I take the pills without too much of a struggle and chug the water before lying back down. “I just need sleep.”

“I know, babe. Get some rest. I’ll be downstairs if you need anything.” He kisses my head and leaves me alone to sleep off whatever bug I caught.

My sleep is fitful and plagued with nightmares. Every time I drift off, I end up in the same place – at the front steps of that godforsaken house, in the dark shade of trees I never wanted to see again. Sometimes it’s quiet and empty, abandoned and dilapidated. Other times, I see a light on inside, the ugly yellow lamplight I’d grown to hate. My heart drops when the front door creaks open and she steps out, a bundle of leather straps in her hand. I try to run but my legs won’t move. I’m too weak to fight her off, as if I’m a child again, just trying to survive the wrath of a sick and deluded mother.

A part of me knows I’m dreaming, but everything seems so real. She drags me up the steps and through the front door before everything goes dark. I know we came into the house, but now I don’t know where I am. The cellar, maybe? It’s all very unclear. There are things clawing at me, tearing into my skin; I can’t tell if it’s her or something else, something inhuman. There are things wrapping around my limbs, pulling me in different directions, making my joints burn from the strain. I make another attempt to run, but I stumble and fall, my face hitting the cold, hard ground. I feel the weight of something crawling on top of me, hot breath in my ear, something wet being dragged along my neck, and a boy’s voice that is unknown but somehow familiar…

I’m drenched in sweat when I wake up but still can’t help the shiver that runs down my spine. I can taste blood in my mouth. Everything is spinning and the nausea hits me full force. I jump up and stumble to the bathroom, just in time to empty the meager contents of my stomach into the toilet.

Josh must have heard the noise, and I hear his rushed footsteps approaching. I blindly reach up to flush the toilet and rest my head on my arm. I’m not quite quick enough and I can hear the panic in Josh’s voice. “Fuck, are you throwing up blood?!” He drops to the floor next to me and tries to lift my head.

“I think I just bit my tongue. I’m okay.”

“Jesus, what the hell did you do to your neck? Did you scratch yourself?” He stands to find a washcloth. While he’s holding it under the running water, I reach up to touch the side of my neck, where I can feel three decent sized scratches. My skin burns and there is blood on my hand when I pull away.

Josh gets to work cleaning them up and I sit silently, letting him take care of it. I’m still in a haze, where nothing feels quite real yet. He puts another cool, wet washcloth on the back of my neck and feels my forehead again. “You still feel really warm,” he says. “Finn, I know you don’t want to, but I think you should go see a doctor.”

I groan and shoot him a glare. “Not fucking happening.”

“I’m worried about you,” he whispers.

“Don’t be.” I avoid his eyes as I sit up, moving the cold compress to my forehead, and promptly leaning against the wall. I’m not ready to move yet, much less try to walk anywhere. I can’t even formulate enough of a thought to string together anymore words that make sense. When I try to speak to Josh, my speech is slurred, which only makes him more concerned. The only thing I’m sure of is I don’t want to go back to sleep. I don’t want to go back to that place.

Still, I let josh help me back to the bedroom, once I’m sure I won’t vomit again. He leaves a small trash can next to the bed, though, just in case, and a fresh glass of water on the nightstand. I consider asking him to stay, but I’m vaguely aware that I’m still sweating like a stuck pig and in desperate need of a shower. I also don’t want to give him whatever bug I have, assuming he hasn’t caught it already.

I fight sleep as hard as I can, but I don’t have the energy to win that battle. Over the course of the next two days, I am stuck in this blurry, dream-like state. I’m in and out of consciousness and mostly unable to differentiate between the two. I’m only slightly aware of Josh checking in on me, offering food and medicine. I should be grateful he’s here, putting everything on hold to take care of me, but I find myself wishing I was alone.

The fever does finally break, but I still have no answer for what brought it on in the first place. Josh doesn’t get sick, so whatever it is must not be that contagious. Or maybe I did it to myself. Maybe all the terrible things I’ve done are finally catching up to me, whether it’s karma or some god I don’t believe in.

Even though my body is starting to recover, my mind doesn’t feel right. I think I’m stuck in a dissociative state. It’s like I’m watching from the sidelines, with no real control over myself, but I’m all too heedful about how dangerous this can be, and how dangerous I can be. Josh is still fretting over my well-being, but when I look at him, it feels like I’m looking at a stranger. His home, that should be familiar and comforting, is foreign to me. I don’t really know how to explain it; it’s almost as if that part of my brain that knows him, that loves him, has been disconnected. I want out, but I don’t know how, and it terrifies me that I don’t understand why. I’ve wanted nothing in my entire life as much as I’ve wanted him. I went to rehab for him. And now I feel suffocated. Maybe I just need space, and perhaps I could simply ask him for it, but when have I ever done the simple thing? So I ask him to go to the store to grab me something, and while’s he’s gone, I pack a bag and run.

JOSHUA

“C’mon, it’ll be fun. And you need to get out of the house.”

Josh stood in the kitchen, pretending to search his cabinets for something to cook, and sighed at Sam’s insistence. “I can’t. What if Finn-“

“Fuck Finn,” spat Jake. “It’s been three weeks. If he wanted to be here, he would be. You need to stop worrying about someone who can’t even spare you a fucking phone call.” Jake was done pretending, done being civil for Josh’s sake. Too many times he’d watched his brother cry over a guy that wasn’t worth his time.

“Yeah,” Sam agreed. “Way I see it, you have every right to let loose and have a little fun. Hell, go get laid.”

Josh snorted. “I’m not gonna do that.”

“Why not? He probably is.” Sam didn’t mean for his words to sound so insensitive, and guilt washed over him at the look on Josh’s face. “Sorry, that was shitty,” he mumbled.

“I’m just saying, maybe you need to move on from this. He’s not good for you.”

“He’s sick, Jake. It’s not his fault.”

“He’s using it as an excuse to treat you like shit,” Jake scoffed. He stepped closer to Josh when he didn’t respond and placed a hand on his twin’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. We’re just worried about you. Whatever the hell Finn’s going through, he’s got to figure it out. You can’t fix him, and you can’t let him drag you down with him.”

Josh mulled over his brothers’ words for days. He was hurting. He felt abandoned and lost. He couldn’t wrap his head around why Finn would just leave; they hadn’t argued, and he’d been doing so good at working to stay sober. But Josh could tell something had been off when his boyfriend fell ill, he just didn’t know what and frankly, was too afraid to address it. He reached a point where he thought he’d be okay if this was really the end of their relationship, but the uncertainty was killing him. He prayed for some type of closure, anything to solidify what he thought was already happening – Josh was losing him.

Thursday marked four weeks since he’d seen or heard from Finn, and Saturday he agreed to tag along to a house party with his brothers. They had pestered him about it until he finally just gave in to the peer pressure. It seemed wrong; he felt guilty for attending a party while Finn was still MIA, but Jake was right. He probably needed to at least think about moving on.

The party was on the other side of town, hosted by one of Daniel’s friends. Most of the attendees were people Josh had never met in his life. He wasn’t even sure what the occasion was, if there was one. There was a big enough turnout that it was difficult to move through the crowd without bumping into someone. The music was loud; partygoers had to practically yell to be heard over it. It reminded him of a stereotypical college frat party. Josh started by cracking into the seemingly endless supply of alcohol, in hopes it would help him relax a little.

He stuck with Jake at first, mingling with a few people and finding his bearings until he felt comfortable enough to wander off on his own. Between the alcohol and the good company, he began to unwind. He got roped into a game of beer pong, which he drastically lost, but more importantly, he was having fun. If nothing else, it was a very welcome distraction from all the pain and stress he’d been suffering of late.

Hours flew by in a flash. Josh found himself actually enjoying the socialization, joking and laughing with some newfound friends. Since Finn had disappeared, he’d been compulsively checking his phone every chance he got, but he hadn’t looked at it in hours. He didn’t even notice it buzzing in his pocket.

It was getting late, the night starting to creep into the hours when most people are in bed. Some of the guests had begun to filter out but there was still a significant crowd. A few of them were passed out in whatever empty spots they could find. Danny and Sam were playing a card game with a few friends when Danny saw something that made him do a double take. He tapped Sam’s leg to get his attention.

“Am I imagining things, or is that Finn?”

Sam scanned the room until he found who his boyfriend was looking at. “Nope, definitely Finn. Did he talk to Josh?”

“How else would he have known where we are?” Daniel frowned. “I don’t have a good feeling about this, Sammy.”

“Yeah, me neither.”

The pair excused themselves from their card game and stood to look for Josh. “Shit, where’d he go?” Finn had disappeared from Danny’s view so quickly he wondered if he’d imagined it. They found Jake first and pulled him aside to let him know what they saw.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he swore.

Josh was on the opposite side of the house, drinking and chatting with some newfound friends. At the sight of recognizable red hair in his periphery, his head shot towards it. “What…?” When his eyes met Finn’s, his heart dropped. In a matter of seconds, his confusion and shock turned into anger, and he jumped up to make his way to his boyfriend (or whatever he was now). He didn’t give Finn a chance to speak before he grabbed the taller man’s arm and was practically dragging him to the back patio door.

Most of the guests stayed inside due to the cold weather, so the deck was mostly empty. The air nipped at Josh’s nose and fingers; he’d forgotten to grab his jacket but that was the least of his concerns right now. “Finn, what the fuck are you doing here? How did you even know I was here?” Josh was fighting to keep his voice hushed to not attract the attention of any nosy onlookers.

“It doesn’t matter. I’ll explain everything, but… not here.” He looked around at his surroundings, feeling very uncomfortable about the number of strangers nearby. “Can we go?” He reached out for Josh’s hand, but Josh pulled away.

“No. You don’t get to ghost me for four weeks then come back and call the shots. You tell me now, or you leave.”

“Josh, c’mon. I don’t want to do this here. And you’re drunk. Let’s just-“

Josh cut him off with a scoff. “I’m drunk? I’m not the one with the fucking problem! Don’t pretend like I can’t smell it all over you!”

Finn gritted his teeth. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. You don’t understand.”

“Of course I don’t understand, because you won’t talk to me! You’d rather just run away. You’d rather disappear and leave me with no idea where you are, if you’re dead or alive, who you’re fucking.” He choked out the last few words, his emotions getting the better of him. “Do you have any idea what that does to me? How much that hurts?”

He expected Finn to get defensive, to swear up and down that he never cheated, but silence speaks louder than words sometimes, and Josh took a step back. “Seriously?” He dropped his gaze to the ground for a moment, then fixed it back on Finn. If he was going to do this, he was going to look the other man in the eye. “I think we’re done. You should go.”

“You can’t… you can’t just abandon me, Josh. I need you.”

“No, you need help. Help that I can’t give you.”

“Don’t do this. I’ll get better. I can still get better. I just need more time. It won’t happen again, I can-“

“Stop. You say that every time, ya know. And it keeps happening. I can’t keep doing this.” There was a knot tightening up in Josh’s stomach and his chest ached. He hated this feeling; he never wanted to hurt Finn, but he knew it was something he had to do. “It’s not that I don’t love you, Finn. I stayed with you when… when I probably shouldn’t have because I love you. I gave so much to you. But I gave you everything I have, and I don’t have anything left. I need to take care of myself for a little while, okay?”

A multitude of emotions ran through Finn as he processed the other man’s words. It was like a spinning game show wheel and when it finally stopped, the little arrow landed on rage. He didn’t really plan on reacting the way he did, but once he started moving, he couldn’t stop himself.

Neither one of them noticed that Jake, Sam, and Daniel had found them and were making their way outside. So, when Finn’s fist collided with Josh’s jaw, any calmness that was left in the atmosphere completely dissipated. As Josh stumbled backwards, Jake lunged and landed a few blows of his own on Finn. He wasn’t as strong, but he was certainly fast and could do a decent amount of damage. Sam rushed to check on his oldest brother as Daniel tried to wrestle the other two men apart. Some bystanders had begun to file outside to get a better look at what was causing the commotion.

Everything happened so fast, but at the same time, to Josh, it seemed like it was happening in slow motion. He could taste blood in his mouth where his lip split and his jaw was throbbing. His voice cracked as he yelled for them to stop, and his cheeks were wet with salty tears he didn’t even realize were falling. Sam held him back as he tried to get to them, begging them to quit fighting. He didn’t know if he was more worried about Jake or Finn.

Danny managed to separate the two men, and he shoved Finn away to create some distance. He prepared himself to block (or take) some more blows, but they didn’t come. Finn stood back, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. He held the back of his hand under his broken and bleeding nose. Jake, still livid, made a move to close the breadth between them again, but was held back by Danny. He was sporting what would eventually be a black eye and his knuckles were bruised and cut open. Finn looked between the two in front of him, Sam behind them, and realized he was outnumbered.

Josh was suddenly all too aware of the group of partygoers that were staring at them like it was some kind of free show. “Jake?”

Jake hesitated, not wanting to take his eyes off of Finn, but slowly turned to face his twin. Noticing Josh’s injury had him seeing red all over again. His base instinct was to go after Finn for a second time, to keep hitting him until he was sure he wouldn’t get back up, but the look on Josh’s face kept him still. It was a silent question, a plea: Can we go home?

He glared back at the redheaded man, mostly for good measure. “You ever touch my brother again, I’ll fucking kill you.”

Finn spat blood out of his mouth. “This is your fault, Josh. You did this.”

Sighing, Josh answered quietly, “No, you did this to yourself. I hope you can get some help.” He didn’t wait for a response before turning and walking away, his brothers close behind.

He wasn’t interested in going home; he wanted to be with his brother, where he felt safe. He also figured Finn would return sooner or later to get his belongings that he left at Josh’s house.

The car ride back to Jake’s was quiet, save for the music coming through the speakers. When the four of them entered the house, Kya was on the couch. “Hey, you guys are back early. What… holy shit, what happened?” She took in the twins separate wounds and bruises and frantically stood.

“Finn happened,” grumbled Jake, walking past her and into the kitchen.

Josh offered her a sad smile. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “It’s over.”

Jake returned with an ice pack and shooed Josh into the downstairs bathroom.

“What about your hands?” Josh asked as he sat on the toilet lid and held the ice pack on his jaw.

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll take care of it after.” He got to work cleaning Josh’s busted lip and applied some antibiotic ointment. The silence was unsettling; it was never like Josh to be this quiet. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just… I feel so stupid.”

Jake sighed and leaned up against the countertop, crossing his arms. “It’s not your fault. And don’t let him make you think it is.”

“I knew he wasn’t good for me. Maybe this wouldn’t have happened if I had the balls to leave the first time.”

As Jake registered the words, he stared at Josh, face painted with concern and anger. “The first time? He’s hit you before?”

Josh kept his eyes on the ground as he spoke. “He’s never decked me like this, but he… yeah.” He hadn’t wanted anyone to know what really happened. In truth, he was humiliated for letting it get to this point. But he’d resigned himself to the fact he couldn’t hide it from Jake anymore. He briefly recounted what really happened when he hurt his arm, and the incident before he went to New York, along with a few others he had swept under the rug in hopes that if he pretended they didn’t happen, they would just go away. “Don’t tell mom, please. She’s gonna ask why we broke up. I don’t want her to worry.”

Jake silently agreed, not really knowing the right words to say. He knew nothing he said would change anything. The only thing he could do was be a steady hand for his twin to hold onto while he healed, physically and mentally, however long that took. Jake wrapped his arms around him and held Josh’s head as the sheer anguish the older twin felt hit him like a freight train, and he was no longer able to hold back his violent sobs.

I’m sitting in my car, pulled off to the side of a dark, empty roadway. My knuckles ache and my nose is definitely broken, so clogged with dried blood that I can’t breathe out of it. I don’t know what compelled me to hit him like that. I’m disgusted with myself. I never wanted to turn into this person, this worthless, poor fucking excuse for a man. I never wanted to turn into them, into the very people I hate. When I was old enough to understand it, I made a promise to myself that I would break the cycle, but clearly, I already failed.

I put all my energy into wishing I had been better for him, that I had taken care of him like he deserves instead of hurting him. I tell myself I would have done things differently if I could do it all over again, but I don’t know if that’s true. I see his face every time I close my eyes, and the way he looked at me. He will never trust me again.

I check the tracker app on my phone. No data found. He must have figured it out and deleted it. With a frustrated scream, I throw my phone against the dashboard so hard it breaks. I ignore the shooting pain in my hands as I slam them on the steering wheel. I tried so hard to love him. Why did he have to throw it in my face like that? I know I fucked up, but he has to know that I only did those things because he drove me to. And setting his brother on me? That was a low blow. Things could have been different, if he’d been strong enough.

No, that’s not right. I know this isn’t his fault, and I’ve never been able to comprehend why I keep trying to convince myself otherwise. I’m suddenly short of breath; it feels like something is squeezing the shit out of my lungs. My vision blurs and my fingertips are going numb. I think, for a moment, that I’m having a heart attack, and maybe that isn’t such a bad thing. I can’t feel guilty if I’m dead. I can’t hurt him if I’m gone. I lean back and close my eyes, begging my heart to simply stop beating. It doesn’t, of course. It’s just a panic attack, and it eventually fades, when my brain physically cannot handle being in emergency mode anymore.

///

I stay in this spot all night, in the dark, freezing Tennessee winter. I’ll pass out at some point, and will sleep it off, the only thought in my mind – I’m not ready to let him go.

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myapothecarydiary · 7 months ago

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Thoughts from reading The Apothecary Diaries Manga Ch. 4

First have to share some thoughts about the title page because look at it! I love how the moon looks like an ominous eye and the "ghostly" figure looks more sinister than ethereal. And check the framing at the bottom with the cotton rose. I love details!

Right away we get some framework for this chapter–it will address freeing oneself from one's circumstances. A woman traversing (or dancing on) the line (or wall) between freedom and captivity is quite the image. Escaping the cage of the rear palace is said to be impossible, but is it?

Maomao values competence–we see this so often with her praise of certain individuals and criticisms of others (see Hongniang vs Jinshi)

And instantly we get an example of someone she criticizes for their work ethic–Jinshi, of course.

Here her mind takes her thoughts of criticism a bit further. "As a eunuch, he should be in the offices of the palace domestic service..."

"...but he doesn't seem to be attached to any one place...it's as if he's overseeing the entire inner court. Perhaps he ranks higher than a director then..."

Maomao is beginning to connect the dots about Jinshi. If he isn't acting like a normal eunuch, then maybe there's more to him and his position than she initially thought. His actual position perhaps explains his odd behavior.

Lol I adore lightbulb Maomao. Her "assumption" that Jinshi is the Emperor's lover is both kind of a way for her to stop thinking too much about Jinshi's actual position/identity (preventing herself from reaching the truth) and an indication of where her mind goes due to her background. It's also funny how casual Maomao is about "indecent" thoughts coupled with how Jinshi still clocks that type of thought crossing her mind (maybe she isn't as casual/unaffected as you'd think and/or Jinshi is good at picking up on those types of thoughts due to his looks and the situations they potentially get him into).

I feel like Maomao defaults to assuming people have a certain level of lust/desire. There may be some legitimacy to her interpretation, but I also find it interesting considering how she herself comes across as lacking this sense of lust and attraction. She never exactly describes herself as "different from others/the norm," but she is conscious of how she is different/unusual.

I guess that is to say it is not something that really bothers her or something she gets caught up on. She just views it as a fact of life. It's as if through her personality and upbringing, she has been forged into this almost "objective" observer, which is reflected in her skill for deducing information and solving mysteries. Like with describing how anyone would be attracted to Jinshi, she does not include herself in any reflection on "everyone." But she is not objective and recognizes this–acknowledging the background that formed her knowledge and perspective + emphasizing when conclusions come from "conjecture." That being said, I do think she is more affected by things than she likes to admit and is suppressing certain thoughts and feelings. She does to herself as she does with discovering knowledge about others–like with the pieces she is putting together regarding Jinshi, it is easier to not think too much about certain things.

Going back to lust, she is matter-of-fact about its existence, but perhaps she puts too much weight on it sometimes. I feel like she is more willing to acknowledge her bias and subjective pov regarding other topics. And she is different, but maybe others, though they act a certain way outwardly, are more like her on the inside than she thinks.

Anyway, Maomao has deduced that Jinshi: oversees the rear palace, has a higher position than it seems + one that affords him a certain amount of freedom, is connected to the Emperor somehow.

~time line interlude~

3 months in rear palace @ start of the story: Maomao writes notes of warning to Gyokuyou and Lihua

1 month later: Lihua's son passes, Jinshi tracks down Maomao and makes her Gyokuyou's lady-in-waiting

1 month later, ~5 months in rear palace/1 month in Jade Pavilion: Maomao approached about "ghost"

We continue...

So, the reason I wanted to outline the timing of everything and how long Maomao has been in the rear palace and specifically the Jade Pavilion is because of how Maomao treats Jinshi here (and how she has come to understand his behavior).

He's seeking her out directly and one-on-one, and she can tell this means he wants something from her. Interesting that this makes her privy to certain information not to be heard by everyone (like the doctor. Or does Jinshi simply want to be alone with her for his own benefit/to work his charms? Both?) It's funny when taken with how people like the other ladies-in-waiting and Xiaolan gossip to her–with all the information, gossip or more official, she's like "leave me alone with this" while also being curious.

More notable is how Maomao speaks to Jinshi. "Why are you really here?" Very blunt and kind of throwing her respected etiquette out the window! It's like the "you're a caterpillar" glare in verbal form. She's really skirting the line now, if she hasn't already crossed it. This increasingly expressed lack of respect for etiquette and Jinshi seems indicative of growth in their relationship, as odd as that may sound. Has she learned how far she can push it? Does she not fear Jinshi as much as she perhaps did at the start? This behavior doesn't seem very "I want my head to stay attached to my body" of Maomao.

Which reminds me–look how much she avoids his gaze/looking at him. Is this her trying to remain that modicum of respect and/or to not be subjected to his fake, overbearing smile?

It seems Jinshi is learning how to pique Maomao's interest, but this little "It's not that hard to figure out" and Maomao's upset response to it stands out to me as it is an adaptational change and I'm not totally sure what to make of it. Is he trying to show off? Does this work to emphasize his own deduction skills?

Maomao's statement of her area of expertise in the light novel is an attempt to get Jinshi to leave her alone with this topic (and in general), but here it almost comes across as an angry rebuttal like "hey, that's my territory, I know more than you."

This is also more of "lack of physical boundaries" Jinshi with Maomao clearly rejecting his touch and trying to remove him. Is this for his own enjoyment or is he still trying to seduce her? It feels like he is toying with her. In the light novel, I feel like it is more clear that he is trying to get her to help him and knows she can't say no if she meets his gaze. I guess this is a more physical interpretation where he actually grabs her to make her look at him.

The whole scene does end with her giving in once forced to look him in the eye. But the interest she showed regarding sleepwalking seems like a more promising approach than Jinshi's go-to method. Does he realize this?

I guess this scene in particular is one where I would benefit from hearing the thoughts of others.

Sorry to get stuck on Apothecary's presentation of gender (but not really because I find it fascinating and thought provoking haha), but here we have another example of Maomao's understanding and perspective being challenged with how Gaoshun looks "very masculine" and not "like a typical eunuch at all."

I think there are a couple of interesting things happening here. Maomao comes at gender from a perspective very reflective of the context in which she exists, and in some ways, what first appears to challenge that perspective actually works to reaffirm it. Gaoshun appearing more masculine and like a military man is not presented in the story to challenge a bias but it is Maomao's first clue that something else is going on with Gaoshun, that there's more to the story. The same thing happens later when Maomao inspects Jinshi's body and sees it is more muscular than a eunuch's would be. Without further investigation, the presentation of eunuchs that don't fit the stereotype challenges that stereotype, but the truth of the matter actually kind of relies on and reaffirms those stereotypes. Gaoshun isn't just a eunuch and wasn't always a eunuch. Jinshi isn't a eunuch at all. If they didn't seem like regular eunuchs, it's because they are not.

And yet, Jinshi still appears very feminine. That is, arguably in part due to the drugs/forms of suppression Jinshi uses to assume his eunuch persona and operate in the rear palace, but even without those measures, he still possesses a great "feminine" beauty. He is sort of a contradictory figure in that sense.

So I don't continue to rant and ramble and disrupt the flow too much, I will expand more on these thoughts and the pin I put in the idea of how Maomao views beauty back in chapter one here.

Curiosity vs. etiquette/respect for rank–Gaoshun not being the stereotypical eunuch scratches Maomao's brain though.

Gaoshun's request for Maomao = Maomao is not being as subtle as she thinks + Gaoshun is observant too.

The introduction of Xiaomao! The cutest. And an indication of some of Gaoshun's fatherly and affectionate ways.

This reminds me of @i-guess-im-into-this-now's thoughts on how this chapter is covered in the anime–they note that with Yinghua and the other ladies-in-waiting worrying about her and the doctor providing her with tea and snacks, Maomao is "slowly building a support network." I love this, and here Gaoshun joins in! I think a nickname like "Xiaomao" is a little opening, through which affection seeps. Maomao is accumulating a circle of people who care about her, and as much as she wants to put her head down and do the work until her time is up and she's free to leave the rear palace, I think this circle of people will complicate that, whether she admits their impact or not. She's also becoming imbedded in this circle and building a life here.

This support network can also serve to contrast the initial perception of the rear palace–one full of fakeness and skin-deep beauty, a cage that traps women and pits them against each other with the sole goal of producing an heir. It still is these things, but there's more to it than that. There is genuine affection and care. It would be easy to write off the rear palace as being full of game pieces and a means to an end. And a lot of the time, people treat it as such (even among themselves in the rear palace), but the motivations behind the actions are often very messy and human. So there's a combination of humanness and dehumanization. Considering all of this, the rear palace also functions as a fairly good metaphor for Jinshi.

And speaking of Jinshi, he truly looks like an excited little kid when he is telling Gaoshun about Maomao's way of looking at him. I love seeing the contrast in the depiction of Jinshi when he himself is reflecting on Maomao's glares and when Gaoshun is reflecting on it.

Gaoshun of course views Jinshi as a child he looks after (along with respecting Jinshi's position) because he is a father figure to Jinshi and does know his true age (and identity), but Jinshi does seem younger/more his age in his excitement about Maomao. She often brings out the true him.

Jinshi himself refers to Maomao as a "toy," which could be considered a childish way of viewing things and thus also indicative of his true age and identity, but within the context, he is also thinking of her as a useful "tool," which sort of feels like a nastier, more grown-up way of viewing a toy. That being said, Jinshi's relationship with the concept of Maomao as a toy is complicated and emphasizing her usefulness could also function as him trying to justify his fascination and enjoyment regarding her to himself.

Either way, Maomao is disturbed by Jinshi's positive reaction to her glares XD

I just find this a fascinating, round-about explanation for why Gaoshun wants to avoid dealing with gleeful, Maomao-glare-induced Jinshi. Could it really be (or also be) that Maomao brings out that youthful, unprofessional behavior in Jinshi, jeopardizing Jinshi (and Gaoshun's) cover in the rear palace?

But yes, poor Gaoshun. Looking after Jinshi (and later Maomao too!) is surely a headache XD

Maomao realization then oh, I see face of deeper understanding. Is there a hint of sadness in those eyes? (about the reality of the situation and how women work to escape their fate?)

More moments of hmm will this be relevant later with "conflict of the heart [can't] be cured with medicine" Adding to my collection of ~medicine symbolism, poison symbolism~ Maybe I'm delusional, but certain lines and moments just hit hard, as if they are supposed to leave a mark.

Gyokuyou picks up on what's truly going on–understands the constraints of circumstances and how a woman must operate to navigate them.

Maomao is doing her duty but choosing where she ends her story/the extent of the information she shares. She will do this again in the future–it's sort of her way of possessing power/protecting individuals/seeking some form of justice within the confines of her station. In some ways, I think she does this with herself as well–"gatekeeps" parts of herself from others perhaps in part as a form of self-preservation.

I assume Gaoshun is trying to tell Maomao to hold in her "you're an insect" glare, but in how it pops up at this exact moment, it also almost appears like he is telling her to not give in to Jinshi and refrain from sharing all the details. To keep withholding information. Jinshi seems to know there's more to it.

I just love Gyokuyou and how this whole scene offers glimpses of the depth beneath her shiny exterior and position as the Emperor's favorite. More of that "the rear palace is more than skin deep."

Also love the insight from @i-guess-im-into-this-now that Maomao telling Gyokuyou the full story but not Jinshi reveals "where Maomao's trust and loyalty lies." I think Maomao probably also thought it was safer to reveal this information to Gyokuyou than Jinshi in terms of it not being used against Lady Fuyou, but I wonder if it is also indicative of her trusting women over men?

I mean just look at Gyokuyou's expression! This is an interesting clash of personal desire vs duty and what takes precedence. Maomao's expression here gets to me too, and I think she demonstrates an ability to sympathize with, or at least be understanding of, the situation Gyokuyou is in. You might think someone from Maomao's background, and someone who has spent time as a lowly servant in the rear palace, would be more resentful of the women higher up, but she seems to recognize that each position comes with its own constraints. Its own cage.

This bit here feels revealing about the Emperor and his relationship with Gyokuyou. Also speaking of desire vs duty, the Emperor gets to experience an intersection. Yes, it is his duty to father heirs, but let's not pretend that he doesn't get some enjoyment out of the process. He's serving the country and himself.

I do wonder about the differences between the story Maomao tells Jinshi and the one she tells Gyokuyou, the abbreviated version vs the extended version. Maybe I have removed myself from context by stewing over this chapter too long, but they both involve the courtesan gaming (or even cheating) the system. It's only in the second story that the courtesan is in cahoots with the buyers and playing for love. I could totally be missing something though and would love an expansion on this.

And here the ending hits with another moment of "how will this be important later on." What is the power of love? What could it cure? Interesting that Maomao observes how it enhances Lady Fuyou's beauty, almost like a natural counterpoint to cosmetics.

It feels like these beginning chapters are much more episodic in nature and work to establish the characters and the world and tease ideas that will be important down the line.

Referencing @i-guess-im-into-this-now yet again: "I wonder if the story of Lady Fuyou has any parallels to the main story? In a palace where the concubines and servants are trapped one of them manages to defy fate and escape to a future of her own choice." Thank you for sharing your wonderful analysis of the anime and I hope it's okay that I used it here! It revitalized my interest in this chapter quite a bit.

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molarbeardoc · 9 months ago

Text

So I just found out that it’s pretty a popular headcanon in the fandom that DrRETRO was placed in solitary confinement/a padded cell while being blindfolded and shit

So I’m gonna TRY and include that into the story the best I can

Erm yup! Any who!!!!! Forgive me if I mess something up, I did a bit of research on this before deciding to write (and while writing) so I hope this isn’t dogshit 💔💔

Anyway enjoy! Or don’t you do you idk

Everything had gone wrong.

Everything was overwhelming despite nothing being around.

She couldn’t see.

She couldn’t move.

She could barely speak without cold and sharp metal poking her mouth.

The silence was deafening. She could hear everything and nothing at the same time.

And it scared her…

Every few blind steps she took she was met with soft, padded wall.

She felt like a caged bird, desperate to spread her wings and fly only to be met with the bars of her small enclosure.

Her breathing grew laboured as she struggled to keep calm.

What had she done to deserve this? Why was she being punished like this? She followed the rules, did what she was supposed to, and yet she was still forced to endure this cruel fate.

She wanted to cry, to scream, to lash out, but that would only extend her time. She didn’t wanna spend any longer in this plushy hell, she refused to stay longer.

She hated it here. She was innocent! Why was she being punished for something she didn’t do?! She felt a twinge of frustration itch beneath her skin, her ears flattened as she let out a guttural growl whilst leaning against the wall.

She wanted revenge, to get back at those who lied about her. She wanted them to feel the same way she did.

But how could she?

She was the one trapped within a rubber cell. She was the one stuck in pillowy prison. She was the one who had been locked away…

An overwhelming wave of emotions washed over her, drowning her within its currents. Despair, frustration, sorrow, anger, all mixed into a depressing cocktail that she was forced to drink.

Before long she found herself crying silently, weeping as each breath became more irregular than the last. But there was at least one plus…

No one would be able to see her state of weakness… At least not yet…

DrRETRO let out a groggy meow as her alarm clock went off, jerking her from her painful nightmare into the real. Time to get up already?! She swore just went to bed! Then again, staying awake would probably be the best decision for now… But GOD that constant beeping was more annoying than Poob’s party horn. If it weren’t for the fact that they were so darn friendly, she would’ve definitely done something about that now.

The katball swatted the clock with her paw, sighing as it was finally silenced. If it was broken, she’ll suffer the consequences later, for now, she was too tired to deal with it.

Rolling out of bed, she trudged to her bathroom, physically and mentally preparing herself to get ready for the long day ahead of her. She could only assume what the others would get themselves into…

Once ready, she put on her coat and grabbed an energy bar for breakfast. She had no clue what time it was, but assumed she had no time to sit down and eat. Besides, she’ll probably stop by the RedBall Diner or somewhere for a proper meal in the afternoon. She carefully descended down the machine’s spiral before approaching the elevator, humming quietly as she pressed the button and opened her snack.

Before she could even get a bite in, the doors had opened revealing an overly curious robot who smiled politely at her.

"Woah! A giant cat! My sensors are telling me a lot about you!"

"…"

"Based off the information I have received from my database you are apart of a species known as Katballs correct? Oh! And you speak a language similar to that of regular domesticated felines!"

"Mrrow…" «Uh, yeah…»

"This is wonderful! BZZT! Ah! Pardon me, a large stone man taught me that it is considered impolite to engage in conversation before introducing oneself. My name is Prototype!"

"Meow…" «Hello… Prototype…»

"Hm, I can’t properly translate your message, perhaps, if you don’t mind, I could stay with you for the time being and learn it? Or maybe you could teach me as to avoid language barriers in the near future!"

The katball stared at him, he was sickeningly sweet and clearly eager to learn, she wasn’t sure she could deal with that right now, especially after going through that horrible nightmare. Just thinking of it made her fur rise.

"Is everything alright? I am detecting an elevated heart rate and body temperature. Was my request too strange? I apologize for intruding! I’m just so excited!"

"Meoww…" «No you’re fine. Ah wait, you can’t understand me… Oh well.»

She signalled to the robot that it was okay with her paws, nodding as she stepped into the elevator and sighed.

"Ah… So is that a yes..? Everything is alright?"

She nodded.

"Does this mean I can stay with you for now?"

She hesitated before reluctantly nodding.

"WONDERFUL-! Oh sorry! I did not mean to shout. I was also told that shouting is impolite!"

She already regretted her decision…

The two ascended together within the elevator, Retro eating her energy bar and Prototype watching her with intrigue.

"Is this what your species eat for nutrition?"

She shrugged.

"So it varies? That’s so interesting!"

While he was a bit more active than the others, she found their enthusiasm adorable in an annoying way.

"Does this imply katballs do not have the same carnivorous diet as domesticated felines? Would this not make you omnivorous?"

He asked a LOT of questions though…

Before she could properly answer, the elevator came to a stop, letting out its iconic ding as the doors opened, before she knew it, an exhausted lamp stepped onto the elevator along with his sickly friend.

"W04H! h3llo R3tR0!!! :D"

"Good morning…"

The doctor only gave the two a curt nod, she knew that Lampert would possibly try and pester her about Infected, per usual, but as she mentally prepared herself for his questions, Prototype had spoken up.

"Oh! Are you also a robot? You seem to be artificially made! Just like me!"

"What-"

"My scanners are so far confirming my theory as well!"

"Don’t do that.."

"Huh? May I be mistaken? Are you not artificially made?"

"I am, but I don’t appreciate being scanned. It’s weird to do that without at least asking first."

"So would it be considered… impolite?"

"Uh yeah I guess."

"It seems I have many things to learn about the mannerisms of this elevator and its riders. I apologize for my impoliteness. I should have asked."

"It’s fine. Anyway… DrRETRO-"

"Meoww." «If you’re asking what I think you’re asking, I already told you there’s nothing else I can do.»

"You didn’t even let me finish."

"Mrrw.." «You’re very predictable.»

"You’re rather growly today…"

Lampert was tempted to question her, but didn’t bother pushing his luck. There weren’t a lot of things he knew about Retro but he knew enough to know not to press her buttons. So instead, he sat quietly, listening as Prototype and Infected interacted with each other.

"s0 y0u’r3 l1k3… 4 r0b0t??? y0u’r3 n0t g0nn4 try 4nd t4k3 0v3r th3 w0rld r1ght?!?!?!?!!!!"

"Uh no, I don’t think so. I don’t understand why you would think that. I want to learn about the world! Not conquer it!"

"0H!!!! th4t’s s0 sw4g br0!!! XD"

"I don’t understand this terminology, however I am assuming ‘swag’ is a good thing right?"

"h3ck y34h m4n!!! y0u’r3 4ctu4lly 4lr1ght!!! :]"

"Thank you!"

Lampert glanced back at DrRETRO, watching her quietly from the corner of his eye. She was staring at blankly ahead, her expression was difficult to read but he could tell something was troubling her. As he opened his mouth to speak, he was harshly stopped before her could even get anything out.

"Hisss…" «Lampert… Don’t…»

"Well excuse me for wanting to ask if you’re okay."

"Mrrraow.." «It’s none of your business.»

"You’re acting like a cornered lion. I think making sure you don’t lash out at anyone is my business."

That was most definitely poor wording, he swore he saw her flinch before snapping her gaze towards him. He noticed the slight pinkish tint in her pupils, growing nervous, anyone could tell you what that meant…

"HISS?!" «ARE YOU CALLING ME A THREAT?!»

"Wh- N-No! I was just making an analogy. Not trying to offend you."

He took a step back. By now Infected and Prototype had stopped talking and were instead watching the two with questioning or concerned expressions.

"… Meoww…" «Just stay out of it..»

He nodded, watching the pinkish tint die from her eyes as she looked away. An uncomfortable silence filled the elevator before being disrupted by its doors opening.

"Ah… This is our floor, come on Infected."

"1c3 cr34m f0r br34kf4st!!! s0 epik!!! >:D"

DrRETRO watched as they stepped out, being left alone with the curious robot as the doors closed.

"… Are you okay..?"

She nodded.

"But-"

She let out a warning hiss, glaring down at him with annoyance. He may have not understood her tongue, but he understood that hissing typically meant anger or annoyance within cats.

"Okay… My apologies for pestering.."

The elevator was filled once more with heavy silence. As they stopped at floors, prototype would either enthusiastically greet people or watch DrRETRO do her work. He had no clue that she was skilled in the medical field. Perhaps he should’ve done a deeper examination of her. Perhaps he should do it now. But it’s impolite to do so without asking… He’ll just ask now!

"Uh… DrRETRO? That is your name right?"

She turned towards him.

"I was wondering if you could allow me to scan you one more time? Just to add some extra information to my database!"

She stared for a moment before nodding, though she relaxed slightly as she noticed his excitement.

"Thank you!"

There was a lot he had missed about her now that he took a deeper look. She was Brazilian and had a medical license! How interesting! Her birthday is in October, specifically the 10th of October.

"I’ll have to get something for your birthday!"

She shrugged in response.

As he continued, he found some… questionable information. A warrant for arrest. Perhaps she could answer a few questions of his.

"Excuse me? Were you perhaps arrested in the pa-"

Before he could finish, she let out a hiss.

"Huh-? What’s wrong? Is that an uncomfortable subject?"

She snarled, tail lashing as she glared at him.

"I’m sorry! I don’t mean to be intrusive!"

She snorted, turning away from him. Guess that meant leave her alone for now…

As they progressed, he watched her quietly and subtly. They had eventually made it to his floor of which he gave a small goodbye and left without another word.

DrRETRO was left alone, and she was pretty glad that. She just wanted to get her rounds done and go home, maybe even take a small nap. Who knows?

As she continued to ascend, she couldn’t shake off the feeling of unease and fear. She felt like she was being watched, as if something were going to happen. She felt vulnerable and she hated it…

Each floor she stopped at, each person she treated, she felt worse and worse. Her fur had begun to rise as she rode the elevator, nothing she did could distract herself from that nightmare. Maybe she just needed someone to hang out with, just talk to! Yeah! That could help..

As she reached out to press the button to pick a floor, the elevator stopped, its doors opening to reveal a familiar caterpillar holding a small bag of apples.

"Oh… Hello!"

Pilby gave her a nervous smile, waving with one of their arms before stepping onto the elevator.

"Meowww." «Hello Pilbert."

"How are you, doctor?"

"Meow." «I’m fine as usual.»

"That’s nice! Have you been doing your rounds?"

"Mrrow." «Just finished.»

"That’s good! Where are you going now?"

"Mew…" «I was going to go see Mach..»

"Golly! Is something wrong?"

"Miau." «Just… wanted someone to talk to.»

"I get that. Mach is a great listener! But gosh, if you’ve got a problem she’ll sniff it out faster than Wallter can drink a can of grey stuff! I wonder what’s in those cans anyway… I don’t see the appeal but everyone’s got their own taste, right?"

"Meow." «True.»

Pilby nodded, falling quiet as they hummed quietly to themselves. It was rather ironic, DrRETRO was the one stressing out and panicking internally while Pilby wasn’t as much as a nervous wreck as they usually were. Perhaps it was due to the fact that the feline was aboard as well, they had gotten used to being around her after all, she typically defended them from Gnarpy when xe got aggressive or Bive when she went on her rants and rambles.

As the elevator dinged and its doors opened, the two looked outside at the floor, though Pilby was the first to exit.

"Mew…?" «What’s this..?"

"Mach’s office."

"Mrrrew?" «Since when did she get an office?»

"She’s always had an office!"

DrRETRO followed after them, the doors closing behind her as she remained quiet and glanced around. She tilted her head as she stared at the pedestals, confused by what she saw. There so many strange objects, most of which glowed. Did she like glowy things? Was she part moth or something? At least she knows the qualifications to meet to get her gift in the future; make sure it glows.

"Meoww..?" «So uhm… Where is she?»

"Probably up- Oh there she is!"

The doctor looked up, staring at the deity who watched them from, as it was called beneath the window, the living quarters. It was ominous in a way, her top-hat left a shadow on her face as he red eyes glowed dimly, her face was its usual neutral expression as she gripped her hammer in her hands.

Retro swore her heart had skipped a beat for a moment, it truly was terrifying, even though she knew she had nothing to fear. She gave a small wave, forcing a nervous smile as Mach repeated the action. Within a blink of an eye she appeared in front of the two, staring down at them as she tilted her hat upwards.

"Hello."

"Meow." «Hi..»

"Hi Mach! Uh… I got you a snack from the shop!"

"Thank you Pilby, sit it on my desk for now."

The caterpillar nodded, hurrying over with the bag and placing a bag of mini donuts on her desk before leaving the two alone. To be honest, the feline would’ve preferred if they stayed, she’d prefer more than just one other person around. It’d make her feel a bit safer and less exposed. Her tail lashed as she lifted her ears, forcing her fur to lie flat for the time being.

"What’s wrong?"

DrRETRO was jerked back to reality as Mach spoke, tilting her head ever so slightly to the side as she questioned her.

"Meow! Mrrow." «Nothing! I was just bored and wanted to just talk with you.»

"Are you sure?"

"Mew.." «Yes..»

"Are you lying?"

"Mrraow!" «No!»

"Alright. What do you wanna talk about?"

"…"

"Mw.." «I didn’t think this far ahead..»

"Tsh.."

Mach couldn’t help but let out a quiet laugh, sitting in her swivel chair as Retro sat on the crates.

"Seriously?"

"Miauuu." «You try thinking of topics on short notice.»

"I will. Here’s your first one: seen that stupid rock recently?"

"Mew… Meoww mow merow." «Okay firstly, screw you… Secondly, surprisingly no. I thought that it’d be bothering me eventually today.»

"Hopefully it’s gone for good. I hated it, really annoying honestly.."

"Meow! Mrrw…" «Yeah! Plus it makes my job harder, if you only knew the amount of burn scars I’ve had to treat…»

"I can only imagine.."

DrRETRO purred, feeling better from before as she forgot of her early morning reminder of the past.

"Meow! Meew." «Oh! Met some new robot today.»

"A new robot?"

"Meowww. Merrw mwww." «Yep. Called himself Prototype. Very sweet actually, just way too impulsive as well as asking a lot of questions.»

"What, did he bother you?"

"Mrraw." «No. Not really. Not on purpose at least.»

"What do you mean not on purpose?"

"Meow." «It’s nothing don’t worry about it."

"That just makes me worry more..."

"Mrrw." «Aw, you really do care.»

"Retro.."

"Meow?! Mrroww?" «What?! I can’t joke anymore?»

"Is something bothering you?"

"Mew.." «As I said before, don’t worry about it..»

"Doctor RETRO Katball…"

"Maow…" «Uh oh full name…»

"What’s wrong?"

"Meow." «Nothing.»

"I know you’re lying and I swear I will use the hammer on you if you don’t fess up.."

"Mrrew." «Such an empty threat.»

She purred quietly before falling silent as she saw Mach grip her hammer tightly.

"How much are you betting?"

"…"

"Exactly."

"Meeow…" «Really, darling, you don’t have to worry about it. I’m fine…»

"The last time you said you were fine you collapsed on the floor from exhaustion while coughing and dry heaving."

"Meow.." «Well I was fine until then..»

"You had a fever and stayed hunched over the toilet for the next two hours!"

"Mrrow." «It was certainly an unpleasant experience…»

"Retro…"

"Meow?" «What?»

"I’m being serious about this. What’s wrong?"

"Mrraow." «You wouldn’t understand.»

She shrugged, trying to push down the swelling emotions in her chest. Unfortunately for her, Mach was persistent, gently cupping her cheeks with cold hands. Perhaps she should’ve heeded Pilby’s warning from earlier…

"Then help me understand…"

The katball pause, placing her own paws against Mach’s hands as she held her gaze. Even with her neutral and cold expression, she could still see the concern that glittered within her eyes.She let out a shaky breath, swallowing hard as she struggled to find the words.

Since when was talking about your problems so difficult?!

"It’s okay. Take your time. I’ll be here when you’re ready…"

"…"

"Mrrow…" «I… had a uhm… dream, well nightmare, last night. And it’s… It’s been bugging me all day…»

"What happened in it?"

"Meow… Mrrowww Miau." «Just… Uh… Reminded me of prison ya know? Just kind of… relived one of the worst moments of my life."

"Oh, Retro…"

"Mrrw! Mreow…" «I mean at least it’s over! Don’t understand why I’m worrying over it so much…»

Mach stared at her, her concern growing as she went on. She couldn’t even begin to comprehend how the katball felt right now. She had never been herself but she imagined it was a traumatic experience.

She sighed before pulling her close, holding her tightly as she took a deep breath.

"I know you’ve been through a lot, and I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve any of it. Just know, if you ever need anything, I’ll be here…"

The katball fell quiet, her ears flattening as she took the time to process her words. She let out a shaky sigh, her grip onto the other tightening as tears slowly streamed down her face.

Mach continued to hold her, gently caressing the doctor’s head and back as she tried to comfort her to the best of her ability.

"Mrraoh…" «Sorry for bothering you with my issues while being a giant crybaby...»

"Don’t apologize. Cry all you want, you’re not bothering me…"

"Miauu…" «Okay…»

She fell quiet, tears continuing to flow as she trembled slightly. Despite her earlier feelings of vulnerability and fear, she felt safe at the moment. She felt as if nothing could harm her, not here at least. She liked that..

"Mrrow?" «Mach?»

"Mhm?"

"Mew…" «Thank you…»

"Don’t worry about it.."

RAHHHHH YURI!!!!!!

I started falling asleep (it is 3:30 am here) towards the end so sorry for any mistakes and stuff I’ll fix them when my brains not silly and thinking of croissants. Hope you enjoyed Schmiles

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