#this one might be my favorite of my own despite my crippling self doubt about all of them :D

[dial-m-for-movies]

Oppenheimer [2023] – A Noncontextual Analysis

Dreams and Desire of an Artist, The Nation, Loyalty, Politics, and the Intensifying Philosophy

The overwhelming or shall I say, overpowering hype across social media and the circle of friends, a bunch of cinephiles coercing each other to go for the film irrespective of the rave reviews that it has been receiving on the wide and wild Internet, and my inner conflict and skepticism for the (recent) films a’ la Dunkirk (2017) and Tenet (2020) by Christopher Nolan, who once was my favorite filmmaker – everything made up for my eternal denial to watch this merely out of peer pressure, if not for the visceral moment when one of my close friends asked me to book the tickets, with an impulse of a rather great effect, and needless to say, the way I fell in love with the film and the cinema form of art, proved the impulse all the more worthwhile and gratifying.

Having conversed with a couple of old friends about the film, I, for one, knew that it is not going to be a theatrical spectacle comparable to the likes of those created by the director himself in the past. Moreover, I also knew that the film has more words than visuals – none of these bothered me. The only thing that was a matter of worry was the director’s style of storytelling with which I have been in a dynamic love-hate relationship. While I love his Following (1998), most of his films with nonlinear storytelling have failed to impress me, not just because of the effort it demands to comprehend the complex timeline but also because the effort never led to fruition in my case, especially when I tried too hard to make a sense of the equilibrium the filmmaker achieves by playing between the time and space.

The name of the game doesn’t change much in the case of Oppenheimer, but what makes it impressive is that the storyteller (and not just an ambitious celebrity filmmaker) manages to evoke emotions with admirable aplomb and conviction. While the contextual analysis of the film might warrant me to dig into the facts and the impact the horrid event in the history had on almost two hundred thousand people of Japan, I would rather like avoid the self-evidential narrative of the film and delve into the ways the filmmaker has fashioned the central character, depicting a diverse range of motives and narrative threads, not to make him a hero but a grey protagonist whose internal trials and battles supersede the external trial he faced to prove his loyalty for his nation, if there was anything of that sort intended by him in the real life.

Dreams and Desire of an Artist

Despite the flaws in his personality and pursuits, Dr. J. Robert Oppenheimer was a technical artist, which is to say that he was a scientist with the eternal thirst, anxiety, doubts, and restlessness of an artist, and that is well-portrayed in the initial scenes of the film in which we see the protagonist as a troubled, homesick human being incessantly crippled by his own dreams, and the moment of the dream overriding his sleep is represented by a series of confounding visuals wherein he envisions his it as nothing short of a nightmare for a mind of an ordinary kind. The scene gives its audience a peek into the catastrophic mind of their perpetually perturbed hero. And this envisioning of the dream set the conviction in the life physicist, who wants to see his vision come afore as a reality. Having a vision as an artist and having it on the canvas or reality are two different things, but when the artist pursues the former to achieve the latter, he can become the bazooka of the bandits, the guns of the goons, the maverick of the mafia, and a perennial incendiary for the world, the carrier of the fire within, which he hauls with the armor of an undying fidelity towards his ultimate goal, which becomes his identity.  

The narrative, which is more often than not sidelined by the other aspects the filmmaker wanted to explore, becomes the most indispensable part of the film, a foreground for the future events, a foundation for the plot points, and the device that brings in other narrative threads into the picture.

In the due course, despite all other aspects of the narrative taking precedence over the dreams of the artist and the uncontrollable aspiration of the character, this part puts him in steadfast for what he would “achieve” – irrespective of its moral merit or lack thereof – in the future.

The Nation, Loyalty, Politics

Americans, traditionally, love to fight. All real Americans love the sting of battle.

- General George S. Patton, Patton (1970)

While the above quote does not apply to Dr. Oppenheimer, because the violence wasn’t the objective of the man who made the atom bomb a reality – a claim that he makes in the film, or rather tries too hard to, which only gets defeated by his conviction discussed in the final part of this article, the quote has a contextual significance when the well-known war-driven American patriotism and the communist philosophies collide to put forth the protagonist in the question about the loyalty towards his country. While this narrative makes up for the most part of the film, Christopher Nolan uses it as a mere plot device to express the opinions on the character through a demanding yet gratifying exchange of the dialogues. In the American custom, the aversion from war and battle in general, is looked down upon from a political perspective, and it’s evident in a scene wherein Oppenheimer meets the States’ President, who calls him crybaby.

Moreover, early on in the film, the character is interrogated about his thoughts about the States to which his response is warm and favorable towards the officials and the country. However, Oppenheimer’s thoughts on the country that he calls his, the warmth he feels in America, his close association with the nation’s Army and the contribution in bringing the World War to a closure, all in the garb bringing peace and neutrality for the posterity, doesn’t resolve to his heroism and loyalty, especially because Christopher Nolan uses this on-the-face narrative segment, which occupies the most part of the script, as a deceptive device to hide what’s substantial – the aspirations of this technical artist and the philosophy that stirred him to usher his visions towards making him an instrument of massive destruction.

Philosophy of Violence

In mainstream Hollywood, violence is often associated with either a crime of passion a’ la Alfred Hitchcock’s Rope (1948), Strangers on a Train (1951), Dial M for Murder (1954), and Frenzy (1972) to name a few, or a planned act of violence rooted in a lingering emotion like vengeance, as in Unforgiven (1992). Most of the times, the violence is a meager device of entertainment, as you would quintessentially witness in Tarantino and Scorsese films. It would be safe to say that tangible forms of violence have been a part of cinema, and they add cinematic value to the story.

However, in Oppenheimer, you don’t get to see the tangible form of violence. Even if there is violence depicted by the vivid visuals of a detonated bomb, you get to see the vague images and not hear a sound – a sequence brilliantly staged by Christopher Nolan to once again hide what happens in the world outside the mind of the protagonist and rather emphasis the way he sees the world after having committed an act that brought mass destruction and tragedy in Japan. The exploration of human consciousness through violence and the disguise of the political scenario in the country are the conflicting threads that cross their path as mere strangers, oblivious of each other’s existence.

In what could have been a vital sequence in the film – inappropriately mingled with sexual intercourse and is now receiving its share of flak from the audience and censor board – we get to learn the philosophy of Oppenheimer and the roots that have stoked an insatiable fire in his curious mind. The quote from Bhagwad Geeta, “I am become Death, the destroyer of (both the) worlds,” founds a philosophical ground for the film, which justifies – but not in moral terms – the core conviction of the protagonist and how he uses the philosophy to see his dream come true. The moment when an artist combines a deep philosophy with what he wants to achieve, the internal conflicts and disparagement from the external worlds are exterminated from the mind, and become a botheration only after he establishes his motives. 

While Christopher Nolan shows the protagonist’s outer struggle with the world that questions his loyalty to the country, his inner fight has his soul laid bare in front of the audience, and this is done not to gain sympathy for the protagonist or make him emerge as a hero. However, the filmmaker achieves this with a conviction to confound his audience and provoke thoughts only as conflicting as those in the mind of the hero, if only we can call him by that title. This beguiling act of perplexing the audience, not with the nonlinear storytelling the director is famous for – which is done right in bits and pieces to juxtapose the present, past, and the future in a historical context – but by imbibing a moral conundrum of no ordinary kind, happens to be the filmmaker’s artistic triumph.

To conclude, Dr. J. Robert Oppenheimer will be remembered for the vision and wounds he gave to the world, but Oppenheimer (2023) will be remembered for the consternation, conflict, and most importantly, the emotions it manages to stir, irrespective of where you see it from, for it’s neither a theatrical essential nor an OTT dispensable.

It is what it is – a moving piece of cinema, a story told with guts and gusto in equal measures.

[missingjackklinehours]

when tomorrow comes 🌳

good gods i know it's ship day but this is solely a gen michael & lucifer & raphael & gabriel fic :')

Inspired by Sam & Dean's S.W & D.W carvings on Baby. Who's to say the Archangels weren't first in that idea?

Rating: G (Gen Archangels fic)

Special thank you to my beta!

Playlist & Fic available on AO3. (it's also under the cut, if you prefer that!)

Heaven's lush hills always seemed greener and livelier when all four archangels lay against them. A rarity the occasion was, a trivial shard of diamond in the cascading abyss. It always seemed that Heaven needed an archangel here, there, everywhere at once; It made familial bonding far more complicated than things used to be.

However, a special day plucked from each year never failed to offer the archangels plenty of time together. A day of thanks, a day where Heaven displayed gratitude for their eldest brothers—Michaelmas, the Feast of the Archangels.

Morning sun rays highlighted soft violets and dusk plums of aster flowers, a humble gift for the very firsts of their species. By nightfall, bright angel-made clusters of heat-producing hydrogen and helium littered the black sky in the name of each archangel. Fledglings flocked to watch the fiery protostars burn in the cosmos.

While Lucifer happily revelled in the praise, Michael hid his jittery hands by tucking them behind his back and flashed a polite, yet photogenic smile to his newest siblings. Raphael, seemingly indifferent to the holiday, remained by Michael's side, occasionally shooting their brother a subtly reassuring look. Jovial, yet also graciously wanting to include others, Gabriel mingled in the crowds with the fledglings to watch the protostars, enthusiastically explaining to Heaven's children how the young stars would eventually grow to become massive beacons in the night.

By the time the thick, yet routine night fog had clouded the view of the protostars, the flocks of angels had dissipated. It was their cue to leave; The archangel hideout awaited. Or, as Lucifer liked to call it: the Badass Lair.

The refreshing air genially accommodated them, the chilled wind carried their wings as they flew. There was always a sense of thrill around the Autumn Equinox, nearing Michaelmas—perhaps it was the comforting thought of familiarity, a high from nostalgia of sorts. Whatever the seed, it didn't matter; Focusing on the blossom of a sibling’s love and appreciation was much easier.

Raphael's garden always seemed to flourish increasingly with every rare gathering the four indulged in. Even midair, as they descended upon the immense greenery below, Michael had already begun to muse about how the banyan trees had expanded since his last visit. Raphael quietly, yet blithely soaked in the adoration from their archangelic brothers.

The softness of the grass, however, always remained the same. Lucifer was the first to land, being the quickest flier of the bunch. He cracked an astonished grin as he surveyed his younger sibling's growing garden, slightly pivoting to catch the vibrance of Raphael's indigo feathers amongst the blackness of the sky.

"Not bad, Raph!" The Morningstar loudly called out, adding more quietly with a snicker, "For a kid."

The thunderous sound of strong, flapping wings echoed behind him, prompting Lucifer's playful smirk to widen.

"I'm literally only four hundred years younger than you," Raphael's familiar voice remarked, and Lucifer turned once again to meet his sibling's deadpan expression.

"And despite the age difference, Raphael has created far better things than you have, brother," Michael offhandedly commented as he silently landed farther away from the pair. Lucifer's face contorted into a pout, and Raphael fought to contain their own appreciative smile at the eldest angel's words.

"Woooow, Mi! I'm hurt!" Lucifer faked offense.

The heavy fog of nightfall seemed to become almost pellucid at the very presence of Heaven's firsts. Peeks of sheer luminosity from the protostars of Michaelmas seeped from the impervious midnight clouds. Even the banyan trees seemed to lean into the comforting presence of archangelic grace.

Lucifer squinted into the elegant cloak of the night sky. "You think Gabe's gonna break his neck when he crashlands?"

Raphael turned their attention to the sky in search of the youngest archangel in question. "He's been getting better at landing. He'll do fine."

Lucifer hummed in response, brightening slightly when he caught sight of Gabriel nearing the garden. "Mn, doubt it. Wanna bet? Loser has to listen to Michael's fifty page manifesto on why ducklings are Pop's best creation."

Raphael blinked, looking over to Michael in bemusement. "Your-... your what?"

Michael's eyes darted to Lucifer to glare daggers at him, who only sniggered in response. A gust of wind washed over the trio, and frantic fluttering of golden wings broke Michael's glower. Beside him, Gabriel was close to landing—or rather, close to failing at landing. It was really more similar to falling, with his limbs flailing all about and eyes squeezed tightly shut in preparation for impact.

Michael sighed hopelessly at the sight, extending one of his grandiose fuschia wings low to catch his younger brother. Upon the soft sensation of Michael's velutinous feathers, Gabriel's eyes reopened in surprise.

"Hey, no fair! You interfered!” Lucifer huffed at Michael, who merely rolled his eyes and helped Gabriel to his feet.

“I almost made it, I was so close!” Gabriel whined, furrowing his brows as Michael thumbed a smudge of leftover party sweets that was stuck to his cheek.

“Next time, bug. You’ll get it next time,” Raphael reassured, and Gabriel’s grace seemed to relax at his older sibling’s encouragement.

Lucifer yawned, and the twinkle of the protostars above them began to reflect the dew on the grass. “M’kay, new bet. Last one to the tree has to listen to Michael’s manifesto.”

Gabriel perked up curiously and cocked his head at Michael. “What manifesto?”

Michael shook his head and stubbornly huffed. “I was two hundred years old, Lucifer. The duckling phase of my life is over.”

“Oh? So you’re saying ducklings aren’t the greatest living creatures?” Lucifer pried, exaggeratedly leaning his ear towards Michael to hear his response. Raphael and Gabriel eyed the two bickering brothers and exchanged amused glances.

Michael shifted uncomfortably in place in an attempt to keep in his passionate ramblings; He ultimately failed. “I never said that. Ducklings are the epitome of absolute goodness and commendable purity in the universe. The best traits of all of creation can be found in their small yet mighty little bodies. Not only do they bring togeth--”

“Blegh, no more lectures! Lulu, your bet’s on!” Gabriel groaned, spreading his sets of still-developing golden wings.

"'Atta boy," Lucifer impossibly brightened, his grin quickly returning. "On three! One... "

With one singular number down, Lucifer watched in incredulity as Gabriel mischievously laughed, a flash of golden feathers passing them all by. After the initial shock wore off, Lucifer briefly hummed, nodding in approval.

"Touché, little brother, touché," The Morningstar muttered to himself, before theatrically shrieking into the night, "YOU'RE DEAD MEAT, GABE!"

Gabriel's boisterous bursts of both elated and happily frightened screams in the distance elicited an endeared smile from all three of the older angels. With a whistling streak of vermillion wings, Lucifer chased after his youngest archangelic brother.

Michael and Raphael observed them in comfortable silence, the illumination from the protostars just bright enough to see the vivid colors of their wings against the midnight sky. As the breeze audibly raked through the trees, Raphael slightly swiveled to curiously peer at Michael.

"I'd actually like to hear about these ducklings," Raphael calmly stated, gesturing with their head towards the specific tree that Gabriel and Lucifer were headed for.

The blinding look of pleased excitement on Michael's face was enough to bring a smile to Raphael's lips.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

In contrast to the vivacious growth of much of Raphael's garden, the Badass Lair retained all of its youthful glory.

The haphazardly-built abomination of a fort from sticks and logs stood distinctly adjacent to the veiny streams of the garden. Across from it dwelled a meager hill of lush grass and florid lilac petals of asters—A place where Michael taught all three fledglings to fly, a place where Lucifer created his first defective star, a place where Gabriel grew the lavender flowers as a gift to Raphael. It was their safe haven, a site of alleviation and bliss.

In the center of both dear venues settled a special banyan tree— their banyan tree.

Against the smooth, grooving bark of their tree, Michael’s ginger fingertips almost seemed to purr. The swaying aerial roots that veiled the intricate trunk wavered joyously over his head, and in a sense, their tree looked overjoyed to see Michael. Behind him, Raphael sincerely watched at the way their older brother’s fingers reverently traced the markings on their tree.

“You know… it’s not just gonna disappear, Mi,” Raphael’s voice was soft, a kind whisper carried by the midnight wind. Michael’s hand never halted against the tree bark, marginally turning his head to look at Raphael with a sad smile.

“That’s true,” Michael’s gaze fell back to the etchings on their tree. “It just seems like it was yesterday when… You three have grown too fast.”

Raphael sympathetically tilted their head, stepping forward to place a soothing hand on Michael’s shoulder. Up close, the carvings on their tree stood out boldly, a beloved memory held close to all of their hearts.

Under the then-small aerial roots of their banyan tree, each fledgling archangel had carved their names into the young bark. Something to hold onto, Michael had stated, a bittersweetness as Heaven had first begun to flourish; The eldest had an inkling that duty would steal time spent together—And he was right.

Raphael could still make out the places where Michael had once helpfully guided Raphael’s shaky hand, the spelling mistake in Lucifer’s name, the heart that Gabriel had drawn after his name, and Michael’s near-perfect handwriting, even in carving-form.

“Lusifer?” Gabriel, who seemingly appeared out of nowhere, squinted as he approached the base of their tree. Both Michael and Raphael struggled to repress a thoughtful smile as Gabriel sounded it out again.

“That’s how my name should’ve been spelled!” Lucifer called out from above, and his siblings gazed upwards to catch him resting against an exposed branch. “Lucifer with a c… ridiculous! Looks like luck-i-fer.”

Michael’s rapture remained as he lightly shook his head. “Brother, you are just stating this because you lack efficiency in spelling.”

Lucifer playfully stuck his tongue out at his older brother. Michael scoffed in good nature, and Gabriel giggled at the sight. Raphael’s attention wandered outwards to the perched hill, a peaceful silence enveloping the archangelic siblings.

The argent light from the protostars shone divinely upon the lucid green and lilac of the hill, an invitation of sorts. The sifting breeze was cool, a grateful lullaby to its archangelic inhabitants. The night was the epitome of perfection, though not because of nature—rather, because of the familial love that radiated energetically from each of their graces. A comforting peace, a cherished silence of nostalgia lingered between the four… until Gabriel’s reticent, yet hopeful voice proposed a profound request.

“I wanna stay with you all forever,” His voice was dreary, a sweet innocence embedded into his tone. It prompted all eyes to shift to him. “Let’s stay together no matter what, okay?”

A beat of tranquility followed, their banyan tree leaned in to listen. Michael was the first to react, tugging Gabriel into a tight hug, a sentiment that few were blessed upon. Gabriel’s toothy beam was evident in his quiet giggles as Michael held him close, before the eldest pulled back with a gentle smile of his own.

“Of course,” Michael assured, crystal emotion brimming in his eyes.

A rapid flash of vermillion flared from the top of the tree, and both Gabriel and Michael’s squeaks of surprise induced a jump from Raphael. Lucifer, who had quite literally deliberately plummeted from the tree, now held both of his brothers in a deathgrip hug, a wide grin across his face.

“You’re a real dumbass if you think you’ll ever be able to get rid of me,” Lucifer sniggered lovingly, and Gabriel leaned into his brother’s embrace. Michael lightly elbowed Lucifer for the profanity, yet his delighted simper lingered on his face.

Raphael shuffled closer, eyeing their brothers with absolute admiration. Their hand moved to lightly ruffle Gabriel’s hair, who turned his cheery beam to his sibling. Raphael’s brothers observed them with a giddy sense of euphoria, the aura resonating a promising hopefulness in anticipation for their response.

“Without a doubt.”

[gallickingun]

remember me || t.a.

SUMMARY: Tamaki Amajiki saves a civilian. He doesn’t expect her to buy him coffee and teach him about the wiles of floral culture.

PAIRING: Tamaki Amajiki x Fem!Reader  RATINGS: T+ WARNINGS: mild violence and language, etc.  WORD COUNT: 6.9k+

LINKS: ao3 | masterlist | mobile | writing tag

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* TAG LIST *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ is at the end of this post!

AUTHOR’S NOTE: this is my first submission for the @bnhabookclub​ provisional license event! if you want to participate, here is the post! and if you want to apply for the server, here is the application!! 

i have to get sappy here for a second. i had 2 panic attacks while writing this because i was so self-conscious, so riddled with doubts about a. was i getting tama’s character right b. was i even on par with the great and wonderful writers of this fandom and c. am i proud of this? eventually, after talking it through, i realized that it doesn’t matter how i measure up to everyone else. i should be writing this because i want to, and because i’m enjoying myself. so, special thanks to @freckledoriya​ and @k-atsukidayo​ who have once again been my lifeline. i love you guys ♡

if you like this, feel free to request more HERE!

Tamaki Amajiki had never given flowers much thought.

He usually passes by the windows of a floral shop and notices the blossoms just enough to smell the variance of air – from stale to sweet – and then he moves on, not much effort spent towards the colorful display of petals in the open windows.

But now, after finding you, he cannot stop thinking about the way they bloom.

“Columbine,” your eyes light up, thumbs pressed to the dark red petals, “they are used to symbolize anxiety.”

Tamaki’s eyes graze over the flower, wondering how you could know so instantly that he might connect with this specific budding plant. The tether he feels to it is strange, something particular but also aloof – as if he could not place it if he tried.

Anxiety is something very relevant to Tamaki’s life, a demon he has struggled with every day since he could comprehend the reason his stomach tied into knots, the worry he keeps pent up in his chest burning ulcers into his belly. He wraps his arms around his waist at the memory of meeting you, the way his entire body was wrought with anxious thoughts, mind unable to comprehend the extent of your impact on him at the time.

You tilt your head as if able to realize that his mind has begun to spiral, “We don’t usually add these into bouquets, but something about them is just so beautifully broken, I can’t help but fall in love.”

It is a typical day on patrol when he first stumbles upon you, nothing special or out of the ordinary, not really.

Tamaki has been working under Fatgum’s agency for a few years to date, and he’s comfortable with the route that he’s been assigned, a routine he has held since the beginning of his deployment. The elder hero understood from the very start that Tamaki tends to try and avoid social interaction. In response, Fatgum made sure to create a patrol route so Tamaki could walk the least populated paths while also providing an effective amount of protection to the community. It’s the least he could do for the young Suneater, a new hero steadily climbing the charts despite his difficulty in speaking with the press outlets.

Some days Tamaki will try to stop by various vendors’ carts, eating foods that will create good manifestations for his quirk or just to support the local economy. It also allows him to try and force himself to have a discussion, even if there isn’t much substance to it, trying to grow more familiar with the ideology of small talk. He’s decided that he is going to stop by his favorite sushi bodega today, already thinking up his lengthy sashimi order as he starts towards the food stand.

And then he hears someone cry out.

Tamaki races in the direction of the distressed sound, channeling his quirk as he rounds the corner. The tentacles that are thanks to the octopus he regularly incorporates into his diet are extended from his fingertips, ready for action as soon as he skids to a stop in the street.

Your body is pressed against the wall of the alleyway, face cut by the brick beneath your cheek. You connect your gaze to his, your brilliantly shining irises seeking him out like a moth to a flame. Tamaki can’t help the way his chest constricts at the sight of such a helpless person, and then his heart lights on fire when he sees the burly man currently trying to take advantage of you. He snarls, digging his heels into the concrete, tentacles growing straight from his fingertips.

Before you can part your lips to try and beg for help or mercy, Tamaki is landing a swift blow to the thug’s head, successfully knocking him unconscious to the ground. You clasp your freed hands around your neck, coughing violently as you bend over at the waist, stars in your eyes and shards in your throat. A thin river of tears streams freely from your lids, and when you’re able to look back up at him, you’re far from embarrassed.

“Th-Thank you,” you manage, voice hoarse. You lick your lips and swipe your hands at your face to rid your skin of tears and snot, “Seriously. That guy-he came outta nowhere!”

Tamaki finds the adrenaline of the short-lived skirmish to have fled from his system, leaving behind only the crippling anxiety that makes him blush from head to toe. He swallows the growing lump in his throat when he realizes he’s been staring at you without responding for at least a full minute now. Your hands are shaking and your shoulders quiver, but Tamaki is frozen in place, feet unable to start towards you.

Fatgum taught him how to comfort civilians, but he’s never been good at it, and the way that you look at him like he hung the moon in the sky does not make the encumbrance of his task any less intense. He knows that the objectification and idolization of heroes is inevitable, no matter how poorly he projects himself onto the public. The reality of it all only does more to constrict his throat, the familiar shroud of apprehension blanketing his body and curling around his spine like a snake. It slithers its way up into his throat until he can’t breathe, tongue deadweight in his mouth.

“Black-eyed Susan,” you muse, plucking a set of three yellow flowers from a vase not too far from him. You turn the buds between your thumb and index finger, the canary-colored blossom blurring in midair as Tamaki tries to stay focused on it. He’s not so close with you that he can smell your perfume, a distinct scent even when you are hidden amongst the blossoms in the greenhouse, but near enough that your presence is dizzying.

It is hard to focus anyway, what with the way your eyes are sparkling under the lowlights of the greenhouse.

You bring the bright flower toward your face and scrunch your nose as you sniff it, eyelids fluttering closed in bliss, “They’re used to express a fierce sense of justice. Usually, we use these in our arrangements for hero galas and festivals.”

Your eyes turn to him, connecting with his violet irises as a smile tugs the corners of your mouth upward, “Don’t you think they’re stunning, Tama?”

For some reason, when he answers, you can’t help but feel there’s a duality to his words, as if he is saying one thing but meaning something else entirely. Tamaki’s eyes are trained in on your face, not the flower, and his lips move in slow motion, like syrup dripping from his tongue, “Oh yes,” Tamaki is close to smiling, “quite stunning.”

You return to your arrangement and begin to hum a gentle melody between heavy breaths as you meticulously place the flowers in their perfect order. The way your brow furrows, creases ever-present on your forehead, draws Tamaki’s attention.

For a fleeting second, he wonders if he were to press his mouth to your worried skin, would you find yourself able to relax? To allow your body to melt into his touch?

“U-Uh, yeah,” he forces the words out, a hand brushing the back of his neck to try and relieve some of the tension he’s feeling. Tamaki adjusts his cape, taking a step forward, just like Fatgum taught him in his earliest days of training. He reaches out his hand for you to shake, but you’re fumbling towards him to capture his frame in a hug before he can make sense of what is going on.

You cup his face in your hands as you pull back to look him in the eyes, completely oblivious, it would seem, to his current state of panic, “Thank you so much! You’re Suneater, right?”

Tamaki gulps down what is left of his dignity and nods in silent confirmation, eyes a little glossy as he gazes over your face. He takes in your features, noting the slope of your nose and the bow of your lips, and he wonders if he’s ever seen anyone as pretty as you before. Normally his body would turn him to mush at the mere sight of a person such as you coming so close to him, but there is something different about your aura, the way you carry yourself.  Your hands pull from his face, and he can’t help the manner that his body follows you, desperate for more.

Just as he’s coming to his conclusion about your beauty and grace, he realizes that you’re talking again, lips moving animatedly. Only this time, you aren’t speaking directly to him. You’re on the phone with the local police, letting them know that there’s been a low-level thief apprehended in the streets.

Tamaki is in awe of you – absolutely shocked at your ability to take charge of the situation, to hold onto it with an iron grip and make it your own. He should be the one alerting the cops, giving them an address and a rundown of what’s happened – that’s his job. And yet, here you are, phone to your ear and authority in your voice, detailing the scene down to the hair and eye color of the perpetrator currently propped up in the alleyway. He’s still unconscious, with his head lolled to the side with tongue protruding from his mouth.

Amajiki’s jaw is hanging just slightly, you notice, so when you step forward, crowding his space all over again, you nudge his chin with the crook of your thumb. A gentle giggle parts your lips, your head tilted in such a way that reminds him of a curious young animal, “Do you want to stop in at my shop? The police said they should be here any minute.”

“Y-Your shop?” he stutters, eyes flitting around to the different curbside stores on the strip of the road in an attempt to pinpoint the building you might be speaking of. He sees a few food stands and a bodega selling travel brochures, but nothing that screams you.

Although, does Tamaki really know enough about you to determine what kind of shop you might own or manage? He chastises himself for jumping too far ahead, his intense and sudden feelings forcing his heart to tumble over his inhibitions.

The habit of his emotions leaping into his throat is one he has struggled to curb for years now – he’s fully aware of his naturally forward-thinking spirit. He can take one action, one string of words, and force it into a new, paradoxical reality which he has fashioned all on his own in a matter of moments. The fabric of this new world is woven so intricately that it’s difficult for him to pull himself out of it, the alternate universe sucking him in and creating a vortex in which his mind can play.

You nod, grabbing your phone out of your pocket and unlocking it quickly, heading to your pictures folder for something specific. The split seconds in which you are distracted give him time to pull himself out of the recesses of his mind, to mend the fabric of time to bring him back to the present. You proudly hold the device up in his face, and he blinks harshly so he can focus.

The photograph on your screen shows him a rather familiar front display stand, dozens of budding flowers framing a beautifully crafted window sign that he’s seen every day since the start of his time at Fatgum’s agency. Tamaki tilts his head, trying to take in the store fully before he admits that he patrols by your flower shop consistently.

His head spins – he can’t believe he never stopped into your store before. Could he have met you a long time ago? Could he have seen you every day for the past few months, getting to learn your favorite flowers and flavors and the specific perfume you wear to smell so enticing? Another question plagues his mind – would you have stopped to give him the time of day had he not met you by saving your life?

“Oh,” he forces himself to speak, to dislodge himself from his tumultuous thoughts, “I-I’ve seen that shop before. You own it?”

You’re looking at the photo now, marveling at it with proud, shining irises. The picture distracts you from his enlarged pupils and blushing cheeks, and he’s thankful for the reprieve of your daunting gaze. Tamaki takes advantage of the seconds of your distracted scrutiny to map out your frame again, attempting to commit as much of you to memory as possible, given the short amount of time he has with you. He swallows the lump in his throat, licking his dry lips when you shove your phone back into your pocket, and he must refocus his eyes on some facet of your face other than your lips.

“There’s an adjoined coffee shop just to the left of it.” You’re smiling at him, and Amajiki thinks his heart is going to beat right out of his chest, flesh bruised from the intensity of its ministrations underneath the skin of his pectoral. The beginnings of a bashful tinge of pink warm your cheeks and ears, and Tamaki speculates whether your body is reacting to him or the heat of the afternoon. You lick your lips, “We can grab a scone and a cup of coffee if you like? My treat since you saved me.”

Tamaki is immediately refusing, holding his hands up as he shakes his head, ducking away from you entirely. “No, n-no, I couldn’t.”

“Why not?”

Your lips are pulled downward in a pouted frown, eyes losing a little of their luster. Tamaki regrets instantly that his mind is so tied down to the rules, the reality that: “Heroes aren’t supposed to accept bribes, gifts, or rewards in any form.”

You are twirling a different yellow flower between your fingers – this one is much more fragile in nature. Tamaki eyes the papery blossom and ponders the antiqueness of its appearance, as if it were meant to be made into outdated floral prints on fine china.

Your eyes are focused in on the center of the bud, narrowing just enough that he can tell you’re trying to concentrate, “These are yellow carnations. Carnations can mean so many different things – red for heartache, white for innocence, pink for the reality of being unable to forget someone – but yellow, wow yellow is something much more draining, exhausting.”

Tamaki is scooting closer to you, his body drawn in by the tone of your voice, “If the other flowers mean something so kind, h-how can this one have such the opposite effect?”

Your eyes are sparkling, but there is something hidden in the back of them, an emotion he can’t quite pluck out. Perhaps you have a familiarity with this type of flower? Does it hold a different power for you than the others? Are there memories tucked away in the recesses of your subconscious that wreck your spirit when you see this type of blossom?

“That’s the beauty in the buds,” you laugh at your attempt at a jesting remark, eyes hooded now as you glance downward, “if you choose the wrong one, you’re sending a different message entirely.”

Tamaki’s knee bumps into yours, and usually, he would pull away, but this time something feels different, weightier than before. His eyes cannot stray from you; he finds it difficult even when he tries. And so, he succumbs to the desire and leans closer. Near enough to you now that your body heat is intoxicating once mixed with the headiness of your perfume. He tries to keep his eyes from crossing and his hands in his lap, body uncharacteristically wanton for your skin.

You take a breath, your chest expanding, “Yellow carnations mean rejection, disappointment. Usually, they’re used as a revenge flower, given to someone who has harmed you, or taken advantage of you. We don’t do many yellow carnation bouquets.”

The phrase only seems to make you more determined – your brows pull together so tightly that your forehead creases, “Well,” you pause, brushing your hand over your face, “I guess it just won’t have to be any of those things then.”

Tamaki’s head tilts just enough to remind you of a confused animal. His inky irises are zeroed in on you, raven locks of hair falling in his eyes, “Wh-“

“It’s a date!”

His eyes practically bug out of his head, sweat starting to bead down his temples. He shakes his head and steps back from you, holding his hands up in the space currently separating your bodies. Tamaki attempts at conversation, trying to tell you in as few syllables as possible that no, that’s not okay, we can’t, I don’t think that’s allowed…

You shrug, “Listen, call it whatever you want - it’s just coffee.”

The police arrive with sirens blaring a few minutes later, taking down a statement and emailing Tamaki a new set of paperwork he’s going to have to fill out later regarding how and why he used his quirk. He secretly is praying that you will flee the scene once you realize how mundane this part of the hero job can be – interviews and paperwork and confessions on the street.

Maybe you’ll find him and the whole process tedious enough that you’ll run away, back to your flower shop where you can live on in peace, pretending as if you never met him. It’s not always fun and games being a hero, and typically, once a civilian realizes it, they walk away from the scene at hand and find something much more interesting to take up their time. Tamaki is sure you must have a thousand other things you would prefer to be doing than waiting for him to wrap up a discussion with a police officer, or so he’d like to believe.

For some reason, it does not surprise him to find that you are still waiting on him, patiently sipping a bottle of water given to you by another officer while you chat, feet twisting back and forth to pass the time. Tamaki’s mind begins to wander again to how he always passed your shop and never found you outside, watering the arrangements or even in passing in the window. He would have waved – that’s what Fatgum taught him to do. He has been trained to interact with civilians, to remind them that he is there for their protection and safety, as a beam of light in the darkness of their daily lives. There are other shop owners who he knows by name, their faces somewhat cataloged in the recesses of his mind, so he knows he would recall meeting you.

You’re remarkable; Tamaki would have remembered you.

And yet, he knows that now, every time he passes your shop, he’ll think of you, regardless of whether or not you’re outside watering the plants or inside working on an arrangement. Tamaki will be distracted with thoughts of your pretty smile, the way your eyes lit up when you spoke about your shop. Surely he’ll never be able to walk the beat of this street again without remembering you, his heart hammering in his ribs as he plucks up the courage to pass your shop each day. He’d bank on the hope that you’d see him, that you’d turn to wave, and he might be able to catch a glimpse of you, maybe even hold a full conversation more than a few sentences long.

It’s like his eyes are magnets for you now, drawn to find your essence like a northern pole. He turns his head so he can look over the officer’s shoulder, trying to find your frame again amidst the police and pedestrians alike.

Tamaki is more than surprised to find you staring directly back at him.

“What are these?” Amajiki points to a white flower he realizes he should have memorized based on its simplicity, and yet the hero knows that he’d sooner hear your bell-like voice rattling off the meanings to him, “I feel like I’ve seen them before…”

“Daisies,” you giggle, plucking a plume from your wall on display.

You twirl the flower around, taking an inhale of it before returning your attention to the hero stood in front of you. Your body moves without thinking  - inhibitions tucked away in a box in your heart as you step forward, so your body is almost flush with his own. You press one palm flat against his chest, eyes connected with his inky orbs as you grin.

Tamaki is frozen in place, his feet cemented into the ground. He couldn’t escape you even if he wanted to, what with the way his anxious heart stutters underneath the cage of his ribs. Amajiki is somewhat thankful for the bone structure around the organ, acting like a prison so his heart can’t flutter out into the open. His body blushes from head to toe, painting his skin pink, when he feels your fingertips brush against his cheek.

“You look so pretty, Tama,” you murmur as you tuck the bright white blossom behind his ear.

You cannot pull your gaze away from the fragile petals held in place by the thickness of his violet hair and the curve of his ear. The blossom looks so lovely and light in contrast to his inky hair, tucked away like a secret between the strands and his skin. You are practically whispering when you speak next, afraid you might shatter some unspoken moment, “A daisy symbolizes innocence and hope. They’re typically used to symbolize the potential of new beginnings, a promise of faith despite a certainly somber situation.”

Tamaki’s face is bright red, but he manages to speak, “O-Oh, so a get-well type of flower?”

“Something like that.” Your hand ghosts over his cheek, pushing the bud deeper against his temple so the petals are flayed outward, a hauntingly beautiful smile painted on your lips. “It looks purely providential in your hair, Amajiki. Like a light in the dark.”

When you catch him staring, your left eye drops in a wink. Tamaki knows that he has never felt his entire body blush before, but now he is privy to what the sensation is like, an intense heat traveling from his ears to his toes. It’s hot and stimulating in all the strangest of ways, pinpricks of heat underneath his skin, making it seem like he may balloon up and fly away at any given time. He coughs to try and conceal the way his throat is bobbing, covering his mouth with his gloved hand. Even his palms are bright pink beneath the white leather of his suit, turned darker in shade by the overwhelming heat of your gaze but thankfully hidden by his gloves.

The eye contact between the two of you must make you bolder, because you are walking towards him now with purposeful strides. Tamaki knows that no matter how hard he tries, he can’t make his body combust instantaneously to avoid talking with you, and he can’t quite run away when you’re striding towards him. None of those options would prove very heroic.

And, at the end of the day, despite his personal inhibitions and self-restrictions, his job is to be a good hero, to strive to provide the public with safety and comfort, and maybe today the word heroism just means coffee.

You step over to him, your body closer now than before, “You think you’re ready for that coffee now?”

“I-It’s three in the afternoon, what if the caffeine-“

“There is this cool, new invention called decaffeinated coffee,” you deadpan, raising a patronizing brow at him, smirk lilting your lips, “or you can always try tea.”

Tamaki runs his fingers over his jaw in trepidation, the pads of his digits soothing his sweating skin. He licks his lips and chews on the inner corner of his mouth, diverting his eye contact from you to the ground, focus now steadily on the toes of his boots.

The first thought in his mind is that he could be reported for this – he’s still on duty, and he’s decked out in his full hero costume. If he were to be spotted by one of the head heroes or a news outlet for being too friendly with a civilian after saving their life, it could end poorly for him in terms of his reputation. Not only would Fatgum be disappointed, the Suneater’s ranking would dip into the undesirable zone, and he’d probably lose a few of his current brand endorsement deals.

And yet, when you grab him by the elbow and loop your arm through his, Tamaki is frozen just long enough for you to begin dragging him down the street with little opposition.

“Hollyhock,” your eyes roll back in your head as you smell the pink flower in front of your face, a whimper caught in your throat at the dizzying scent. You groan, slumping down in your chair, “One of my favorites.”

Tamaki’s ears perk at the statement, eyes widening just enough so he can memorize the shape of the floral arrangement, stashing away the memory in hopes that he might pull it forward if he were to need it in the future.

“This flower is usually an accent piece, something to show that the recipient is ambitions, outgoing,” you place the stem back into the arrangement, neatly tucking it away to ensure the set is not disturbed. “They’re so stunning, such a phenomenal meaning. So often we don’t reward ambition, instead trying to stifle it.”

The hero turns toward the arrangement, eyeing it carefully. He tilts his head, careful of what he says next, “They a-are pretty flowers.”

“Yes,” your voice has quietened when you admire the blossoms, eyes glazing over as if you were under a spell. You sound far away when you speak, like you might be somewhere between here and there, feet planted on the ground beneath you but mind and soul much further away. “I think so.”

The scent of floral buds and coffee beans makes his head spin – or maybe it’s just the closeness of your body and the gentle breeze that blows your perfume towards him. Your smile mixed with the sunlight of the day makes Tamaki’s breath hitch, eyes averted from your gaze so he won’t turn every shade of red in the book.

“Bean There, Done That,” you rattle off the name of the shop, “they give me free coffee because I put together the floral arrangements for their shop.”

Tamaki is overwhelmed by the menu alone – his eyes roll back and forth over each flavor of roast and style of drink that they offer. Eventually, he feels terrible for holding up the line and he starts to stutter, attempting to spit out some flavor of some type of some kind of drink. His surprise only grows into silence when you half-step in front of him, palm jutting out to wrap around his bicep as you start ordering something that sounds like he might actually like it.

“I-I’m sorry,” he apologizes as you wait off to the side, his toes overlapping as he turns his feet inward. Your hand has since released him, but that does not stop his body from blazing beneath his costume from your touch. Tamaki coughs to hide the trepidation, “I-uh, I don’t really…I don’t really drink coffee? I-It doesn’t do much to help my quirk, so I tend to stay away from it.”

You shrug, folding your hands together at the knuckles in front of your waist, “It’s okay! I figured.” You’re turning to look at him, softness held in your irises as you behold his face, “Plus this place has a lot of options, so it can get kind of easy to feel bogged down, especially when you’re in a line, and other people are waiting impatiently.”

Wow, he thinks to himself, it’s like she’s in my head.

You’re pressing your palm to his arm now, warm touch once again like an anchor to his befuddled mind. When he looks down, you’re smiling, and some small part of him wishes your expression would never fade away into anything less miraculous than your grin coupled with dimpled cheeks and shining irises.

The crumpled petals look like sheets of tissue paper all bundled together, but somehow your magic touch makes them look appealing, beautiful even. Tamaki watches as your delicate hands swirl around the arrangement, tucking different colored flowers into various sections of the vase, transforming it from something that was one dull on its own to a symphony of color and meaning. He tilts his head and smiles, a gesture he’s discovered to be much easier now that he’s found you, “A-And, what are these?”

You glance up from your work, hands caught beneath a blossom, “Hydrangeas.”

He nods, as if he might know exactly what that word entails, lying through his teeth. When you see his unsure expression, you can’t help the grin that tugs upward on the corner of your mouth, “Do you know what these symbolize?”

Tamaki curls in on himself, shoes overlapping as his knees knock, “Uh, n-no?”

“Hydrangea flowers are beautiful because they are used to communicate gratitude for being understood,” you pluck a blooming flower from the stand, turning to hand it to him. When his knuckles brush yours, it’s like a dozen electric shockwaves tumbling through his veins, blistering his blood beneath the skin, turning him to ash inside. Tamaki gasps at the contact, but he’s thankful that you don’t laugh at his unexpected outburst, or rather you continue as if nothing happened, allowing him to shrink back in on himself with less shame than he may have been burdened with otherwise.

You lick your lips and take a short breath, eyes returned to the arrangement at hand, “Hydrangeas are beautiful and easy to manage, most people have them in their yards or gardens for decoration. I haven’t met many gardeners who know what the true meaning is, however, it seems that people always choose them for their bouquets.”

“When would you give someone a hydrangea?” Tamaki asks, eyes tracking your motions no matter which side of the arranging table you’re on. He cannot get enough of you, body drawn to your presence as he sits in wait of another story, another tale to tumble from your lips.

You are tilting your head, considering the question like it held the weight of a court behind it, as if Tamaki were your judge and jury. You sigh, the weight of the world seemingly settled on your shoulders, almost like you’d thought about this question far too much before, “I think if I were going through a hard time, and I had a friend who just was there for me, I would give them a bouquet of hydrangeas.”

“Why?”

He wishes he hadn’t blurted it out – how rude of him – but your answer makes it worth the accidental insensitivity.

“It’s easy to try and instruct someone on what you think they’re to do next,” you answer carefully, eyes following invisible directions as you stalk around the arrangement as if it were your prey. You grind your teeth together; Tamaki can tell based on the way your jaw quivers under the strain. “It’s difficult just to sit and listen. Even when it’s meant to be kind and helpful, it can sometimes be overwhelming to constantly be told how to react or what to say or how to handle a situation. Almost like they aren’t considering you at all, instead preaching to you of their prowess, how they might have done better if they were in your shoes.”

Your voice is almost chilling, hollow like a needle or a feather, “To find a friend who could listen to me without interjecting their opinion, without telling me what to do, now that is worthy of a hydrangea.”

He allows his subconscious thoughts to wander for a moment, thinking on the implications of you possibly having a mind-controlling quirk. Is that the reason he was okay with coming here? Was it all because you manifested a quirk that allows you to influence the minds of men? Or did your quirk work on women too? Did you-

“Hey,” your voice is gentle, subtle despite the loud volume of everyone else in the shop. Your palm is on his bicep, and for some reason, it anchors him instead of making him want to float away at the sudden contact. Your eyes are genuine as you whisper, “Breathe.”

Tamaki listens to you, taking a short breath in and exhaling soon after, eyes never losing direct contact with yours. His shoulders roll with tension, Tamaki’s lower lip tugged between the bite of his teeth. He swallows, realizing what a fool he must appear to be. How can a hero need assistance from a civilian just for breathing?

“I know what anxiety looks like.” You brush your thumb against his bulky costume, and Tamaki wishes a very secret thing then – something he would never admit aloud. He is curious about how intense your touch would be if he weren’t in his full hero outfit.

Would the pads of your fingertips be soft? Would he be able to feel the heat from your skin leeching onto his own? How much more calming might your skin be if it was direct on his own?

You tilt your head, a considerate grin tugging on the corners of your lips. He’s pleasantly surprised to note the dimples that dip inward, making you all the more appealing, as if you needed any additional help. Tamaki tries to say something, but it gets lost in his throat, so you speak instead, “I hope you don’t mind me ordering for you at the counter. I just wanted you to be a little more comfortable. I felt bad since I was the one who asked you to come.”

“N-No, it’s fine,” he forces the words out, turning to look you in the eyes. Tamaki grits his teeth together and muscles through the anxiety gripping his bones like a vice. He questions when the day will finally come when he might break. “I just feel bad for the people waiting on me.”

“This flower is pretty,” Tamaki licks his lips and leans forward, inspecting the blossom rather intently.

You laugh, and he’s reminded of how delicate you are when you giggle. His eyes are momentarily redirected toward you, taking in every curvature of your face, the dimples created by your smile, the way the gesture reaches your eyes, and it’s like little stars shine from your irises. Tamaki can’t help the way he grins, your laugh and your smile are infectious, much like your love for flowers.

“Have you seen one before?” you ask him, stepping towards the wall of blooms, “They’re a beautiful choice, a lot of meaning behind them. Most people have never seen one, though.”

Tamaki turns to face the flowers again, compelling himself to detract from your silhouette, “Are they rare?”

“Not necessarily,” you respond. You push yourself up on your toes to grab a bright red bud from the wall, twirling your choice blossom between your fingerprints. The scent wafts from the center of the flower, a small dusting of pollen coating Tamaki’s nose.

You giggle as you reach across to brush his skin free from the yellow powder, hand lingering just slightly too long for him to ignore your possible intent. You lick your lips, irises swallowed by your pupils for a moment, allowing him a direct line of sight into your soul. He reads you for a split second, and he swears that the look in your eyes mirrors his own when he thinks too hard about the way you move and the distinct notes of your smell. You’ve taken over every inch of his mind, every last curve of cerebrum and cerebellum.

For the first time, Tamaki is somewhat confident that you might be under the same spell.

“These are anemones,” you break him from his stupor, pulling his line of sight towards the budding flower in your grasp, “they signify anticipation – the build-up before the burst. Kind of like when you’re going to have your first kiss!”

Tamaki stutters, “T-That’s why you’d g-give someone this flower? Wh-When you want to kiss them?”

“No, silly,” you swat at him, smacking the back of your palm against his bicep. However, before you can turn away from him entirely, he notes the beautiful blush turning your cheeks to a rouge. You sigh dramatically with your hip leaned against the table, “I just mean that’s what the flower symbolizes – the tantalizing next step into the unknown.”

“Sounds scary.”

Your eyes light up as you turn to look at him again, irises gleaming under the bright lights of the flower shop, “Oh, but doesn’t it feel riveting?”

You are too close now, your pose intoxicating as he remembers every time you’ve come so near to him and he hasn’t had the strength to reach out and grasp you by the waist. Is this his time? Is this the day that he finally hands you a blossom and tells you the truth about the war raging inside of his chest? He has little soldiers prodding at his heart, stomping all over his bones, making them ache when he is adjacent to you.

Something within him wanders into the tumultuous thoughts of how you might respond, what his body would do in reaction to you. Would he finally find some relief from the plague of himself when he finally passes the threshold into adoring you on a physical level? Mentally, he’s been infatuated with you for some time now, but his throat can’t force the words out when he’s within ten feet of your frame.

Tamaki reaches out, his hand weighted down with reserve and implications. And yet, it’s almost like you lean into his touch before he can think on it too harshly, before he can make the rash decision to retract it and flee. He gasps audibly, eyes flashing to find your face, irises connecting like some sort of lighthouse out at sea, giving one another hope despite the disparity of every other moment leading up to this one.

“Anemones,” Tamaki whispers, voice curling from his throat, projecting onto you like a prayer. His hand is hot with hesitation as it rests on your rib cage, “I’ll have to remember that one.”

“Well, the people waiting on you can get over themselves. Everyone needs to learn a little patience, anyways.” You brush a hand through your hair, blowing away stray locks as they float back into your line of sight. You sigh, voice sounding dejected until your topic turns to blossoms, “I-I’m sorry if this wasn’t the place to bring you. I just figured it would be easy since it’s right next to my shop. I’d love to show you some flowers if you have time?”

“I-I’m on patrol,” he manages to push the words out from between his teeth, his throat grating like sandpaper, “I’m not sure…”

“Maybe another time, then?”

Dare he say you sound hopeful? And maybe even a little nervous?

How is it that each time his mind snaps him from you like a rubber band, you are right there, ready to stretch his limits yet again?

“I have seen this one…in Mother’s Day bouquets, I think?” Tamaki asks, unsure of himself this time as he circles the table. There are so many different types of blossoms, so many different meanings to decipher based on genus and color alone.

Your nod makes the pit in his stomach settle for some reason, and Amajiki releases a breath he didn’t realize that he was holding captive in his lungs. He’s not sure he understands why just the small reassurance of your head bobbing or your voice lilting on the right side of kind can calm the raging sea in his mind and stomach.

Tamaki is nearly tucked into your side, hands itching to find purchase against your body, his frame devoid of his typical uniform. The long sleeve shirt may cover the majority of his palms, but that does not mean he would refrain from baring his skin if it meant he could dip his toes into the edge of the ecstasy he might feel at your touch.

His fingertips are on the cusp of you, the calloused pads extended, beckoning you to come closer in a silent, desperate plea. Like your hearts are tied together in some other realm, as if you’ve done this a thousand times before, in a dozen other lives, you turn subconsciously to allow the collision of his fingerprints to impact the curve of your waist.

“Gladiolus means remembrance,” your voice is breathless as you point towards a set of buds that are seated proudly on the wall of flowers. You tilt your head upward, eyes shining as you press the heel of your palm into the column of his throat, thumb grazing his Adam’s apple to soothe it.

The weight of your words does not fall on deaf ears, Tamaki’s every sense on high alert as you speak next, “They can mean remembrance of someone past, or of someone you’re currently trying to honor. Or they can just mean a simple remember me.”

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[songofclarity]

Hi cat anon back again I absolutely loved your response to my ask though I doubt WRH sleeps 16 hours a day lol. On the contrary I think he's more likely a workaholic who rarely if ever gets a full night of sleep. even if he delegates a part of his workload, leading a sect as large as qishan wen is still a very hard and demanding job and there are things that just can't be delegated and there's also his cultivation that he must put a lot of work in to be that powerful I would be surprised if he ever gets time to rest. If I were to compare WRH as a leader to anyone it would be Miranda Priestley from "the devil wears Prada", all those working under him are terrified of him not because he's needlessly cruel but because he's extremely strict, demanding, and has very high expectations of everyone starting with himself and the higher you go in the hierarchy of the sect the higher his expectations of you will be and if you can't meet his expectations you will be kicked to the curb without mercy (srsly if you haven't watched that movie you absolutely should especially if you're looking for inspiration for WRH because Meryl Streep slays the role of the demanding and tyrannical leader in it).

Also I'm curious what kind of parent you think WRH is. We never get to meet WX in the novel so there's no way to know what he's really like but WC strikes me as a sort of spoiled kid who was used to getting all his demands met without question and was never disciplined for anything ever in his life but also there are WQ and WN whose upbringing WRH had more or less involvement in depending on the adaptation and who seem to be far better adjusted people than WC even if WN seems to suffer from near crippling social anxiety and stage fright. I personally think he has no idea how to parent because he was mostly raised by nannies and tutors and barely had any relation with his own parents if he had any so his idea of being a father is buying his children anything they ask for no matter how extravagant and having dinner with them once in a while.

Sorry for the rant but you're my favorite writer who writes WRH I just love the way you write him ❤️

Ahaha, 16 hours is indeed much too much, he needs to have time to work on his cultivation! I'm so happy you love the way I write him and I love hearing you talk about him, so thank you for sharing your thoughts with me!

I will confess I, too, have a soft spot for workaholic/insomniac Wen RuoHan. It’s a big sect and there is a lot to do! At the same time, I also have a soft spot for well-rested and idling Wen RuoHan who is purposefully kept oblivious to most things happening in his sect, either because other people are doing a good job taking care of it all, because they just don't want to look bad in front of the boss and so don't tell him, or both lol

To be honest, I don't see Wen RuoHan as someone who is that critical of people! I just don't see him dropping people simply because they make a mistake. The way he lightly jokes with Meng Yao after Meng Yao nearly gets himself killed is kind of something I can see Miranda Priestly doing though lol But she knows she's top brass and has the attitude for it. There is an arrogance about her that when she says something disparaging, it's really not a joke even if she might smile and laugh. By comparison, I don't think Wen RuoHan is nearly that arrogant or, if I may, that rude. I think politeness and proper manners are actually very important to him (and there is a whole essay in me about that lol). Wen RuoHan says "you good-for-nothing" only after Meng Yao was being self-deprecating, and then they laughed and carried on with Wen RuoHan going along with Meng Yao's ideas. Meng Yao's status doesn't falter in the slightest.

(So yes, The Devil Wears Prada is a great movie and I have definitely seen it!)

Instead of Wen RuoHan creating a toxic environment where he plays an active hand in making people fight for privileges and status, I can better see people around Wen RuoHan vying for his attention that it becomes a dog-eat-dog situation. It's like with the guest cultivator who threw Nie Dad under the bus. Wen RuoHan did not pose a question that needed to cause a sect-sect incident, but the guest cultivator made it into one. No one is quite sure why he would say such a thing, although one of the assumptions is that he said it simply to stand out and gain attention.

Although I may just have some rose-colored glasses on lol Wen RuoHan just kind of has that personality, to me, that draws people in. They see Wen RuoHan, recognize his power, and are like, "If I can have 5 minutes of his time, my whole life will change for the better." I do think Wen RuoHan thought he was making things better with his policies. The problem is that some bad people are taking advantage of this offer, and it in turn reflects badly on Wen RuoHan. I will say this though: I think there is some room to argue that Wen RuoHan does follow the teachings of Wen Mao.

For the record, I like to completely ignore what CQL did to the Wens, tbh LOL Wen RuoHan is Yikes, Wen Chao is more just evil asshole rather than pompous asshole, and Wen Qing and Wen Ning are like desolate orphans for some reason. I love the younger actors, acting, and the aesthetics (although white and red will always be Wen colors to me!) but the changes to their story line and their relationships with each other made a complete mess and I don't like to see it ;;

But man, I wish we knew, like, anything about Wen Xu! Wen Chao is absolutely spoiled though. Although one thing I like is how he's being given opportunities to practice leadership, management, and organization skills. He's the one arranging the Wen Sect team for the archery competition and he's put in charge of indoctrinating all the juniors when he himself is the same age as them. We see evidence that he's getting the right education and opportunities to maybe even become Sect Leader one day (Wen Xu, who are you!?), but we also know he's a rather rotten, arrogant person who seems to enjoy his power and privilege more than anything. Wen Chao is also the second son and we get a nice comparison with Nie HuaiSang, who also enjoys all the wealth and the pretty things of his station but doesn't want the responsibilities that come with it.

My headcanon is that Wen RuoHan adores children and is very good with them. I want to believe he was very good to Wen Xu, Wen Chao, Wen Qing, and Wen Ning. This is in part because every other parent in MDZS is awful so statistics says at least one of them needs to be good, so let's give it to Wen RuoHan LMAO

But for the actual teaching of said children, I can definitely see them being given tutors and Shifu and all that good stuff. Then when they have learned something, they show it off to Wen RuoHan, who I think is someone who likes seeing others learn and improve. I don't think utilizing nannies and tutors would make him a bad parent though! It might make him somewhat distant, however, which might explain why Wen Chao lies about killing the Tortoise of Slaughter. That would be a great way to get his father's attention! But it might not be because his father is distant. That lack of attention could also be because he's competing, as I mentioned before, with all the other people vying for Wen RuoHan's attention.

Considering Wen RuoHan gave Wen Chao his strongest bodyguard, a whole ton of disciples to lead, and opportunities to prove himself, I think Wen RuoHan is arguably a decent father. That Wen Chao was desperate to get back to him when it all went south shows that his father is someone he knows will protect him, which no other kid in the series (except Lan SiZhui who has the benefit of being from the next generation lol) ever displays. Considering how Wen RuoHan protected Meng Yao in the Sun Palace with Extreme Force, I like to think Wen RuoHan really doesn't mess around with the safety of his kids (with Meng Yao as honorary kid). Even Wen Qing and Wen Ning had ZERO fear running around as they did right after the massacre of Lotus Pier. No one and nothing is going to harm them--not with Wen RuoHan around.

(As a side note, Wen Qing said she wouldn’t be able to protect Wen Ning from Wen Chao if Wen Chao really wanted to kill him, but there is no mention of harm coming from Wen RuoHan. It really does sound like a sibling spat of “He’s going to fucking kill you when he finds out you ate his pudding and there is NOTHING I can do to stop him.”)

With all that said!! I really like your headcanon that Wen RuoHan wasn't close with his own parents and thus having no idea how to parent. It makes me sad, but in a good way lol So I'm definitely willing to run with you on it! Although I love the idea that Wen RuoHan is trying to be different than the generation before him. His parents weren't close to him, so he is close to his own children. He cultivated to a high level because no one was around to protect him, so he makes sure he's around to protect them. Wen ZhuLiu is an extension of Wen RuoHan and it shows when he protects Wen Chao, despite not liking the kid in the slightest.

So Wen Chao grows up spoiled and Wen Ning grows up fearless and Wen Qing grows up prideful because Wen RuoHan is just one letter away and no one wants to mess with Wen RuoHan.

[unwiltingblossom]

Code: Realize Route Review - Victor Frankenstein

to be fair to everyone else, this doesn’t include his Future Blessings content, but mmm MMMMMMM that’s such good content that I will 100% be making reviews of all of them, especially Victor’s.

MY HEART. MY BOY. MY SWEET PRECIOUS CINNABUN.

I’d save him for last because he’s transparently my favorite, but I’m trying to do this in the play order I’ve worked out should be done. Victor was my first route, though, because aaaa he’s so perfect - this was a bad choice both because it meant I saw him in all other routes and couldn’t romance him and because he spoils everything except Germain and Lupin’s routes. (He doesn’t spoil a plot twist in Impey per se, but information Impey gives you is redundant if you play Victor, and you’re definitely supposed to have Van and Impey’s routes done to make the ‘surprise’ in Fran’s route work. It’s not a surprise if you go directly into Victor’s from Common Route)

Anyway, Victor should be done third. It spoils Van Helsing’s route and negatively impacts Impey’s route. Germain’s route spoils Victor’s so even though Van’s teases Germain’s, you should do Victor before San-chan.

Victor Frankenstein

THE BOY’S PERFECT.

Anyway, Victor has an unfair advantage over all the other guys, even Lupin. He shows up the most in the common route and is super important to Cardia. He’s technically the third introduced, but Impey’s solo scene with Cardia is shorter and mostly focused on bullying Impey, and Lupin suffers from what he’ll always suffer from: plot is way more important than him whenever it’s ‘his’ time. If you don’t believe me, trust me anyway. I will make a whole separate post to PROVE to you that Victor gets an unfair advantage in the common route compared to literally everyone else.

But it’s no joke to say that Victor Frankenstein’s route feels the most ‘natural’ of them all, because the common route does such a good job of setting it up (especially if you’re going for his route) that by the time you’re on his route you can’t imagine her ending up on anyone else’s route. It’s so effective that Victor being my first route made me think that the whole common route adapted and gave special scenes to whatever the highest affection boy was, so that you naturally fall into their arms like ‘well of course they fell in love’.

It’s so significant I can’t even review his route without talking about his common route parts.

So let me stop rambling and get on with it.

Victor, like Impey, has a really obvious role in the story that you know basically immediately. He’s the cute nerd who’s also the only doctor for Cardia, dedicated to improving her life because he feels responsible for her creation and is suffering from crippling guilt over the Vampire War. He makes her clothes, he identifies the gem in her chest, he explains where it came from and what it’s meant to be, and he teaches her how to handle chemicals. Which she takes to REALLY well, because Isaac is her dad.

Victor’s route further explores the fact that the Vampire War was all just a staged play and more of a pointless genocide than an actual ‘war’, and that’s part of why Helsing’s route should be played first, but also Alistair is outright villainous in Victor’s route, so it’s impossible to be fooled in Van’s route if you’ve done Fran’s first.

You may not know immediately if you don’t also guess/know that Cardia is a homunculus, but Fran is one of...I think just two? who know immediately that Cardia is a homunculus. Most of the men find out when she does, after they’ve already fallen for her, but not Victor. He knows from the beginning, and despite that, all he ever sees her as is a human girl like anyone else. He loves her knowing full well what she is, because to him she’s always just been an innocent girl he caused harm to.

Fran’s one of my favorite routes on a purely technical level, because Cardia learns chemicals and uses them alongside Victor. He doesn’t let her use the deadly explosive kinds because he’s super protective, but his is one of the routes where her training actually comes in to play, rather than expecting her to step back and let Fran protect her. In fact, his route requires you to treat him as an equal and trust him implicitly.

Victor’s route was super easy to get into for me because I was a simpering fool for Fran anyway. You’ve got to go with him to help protect him in the train during the tag team mission, and ideally you’re supposed to trust him to be able to handle himself against the Twilight soldiers even when it looks like he’s backed into a corner and helpless, because he wants to protect Cardia so much he’d rather be put in danger than let her endanger herself.

Cardia’s route is probably the roughest encounter with Finis, as he succeeds in activating the Horologium before Victor can show up to save her, turning her into a ticking time bomb that can’t be turned off.

Victor is actually so attentive to Cardia. When Cardia tries to sneak out of the mansion at the very end of the common route because she thinks she’s a monster, she looks back to the mansion because her heart aches at the thought of never seeing Victor anymore...but there he is. He noticed she was trying to sneak away and followed after her, because Victor would rather banish himself than allow her to feel alone. Imagine my surprise when I found out like half the other routes Cardia just escapes because no one notices her trying to sneak away.

So, Victor doesn’t just reject that she’s a monster, he rejects it with the authority of having always known her true nature not out of some spat of denial. He accepts her completely, and loves her even in her darkest moment. Then he promises he will do anything to save her, and runs off into the night.

It’s just about the next morning that Cardia realizes this strange feeling in her heart might actually be love, but oh my gosh. This girl has it bad. She’s always dedicated to her routemate, but with Victor, she is laser focused on him and only him, and will blindly rush into danger if it means seeing him.

to be fair, though, Victor is basically the same thing. Honestly, you wouldn’t expect the scientist of all things to have maybe the most action packed route but dang, he is just IN THE THICK OF IT. He jumps off a bridge with Cardia while a bunch of Twilight soldiers are shooting at them and that’s at the beginning of his route.

Especially if you’ve played through Impey’s route where Cardia can’t stop taking back her confessions and Van’s route where he pretends he isn’t in love to ‘protect’ her, the fact that Victor and Cardia admit they’re deeply in love and will say it just over and over again, without ever doubting each other or questioning each other about it, it’s really nice. Maybe a tad mushy, but the angst on the route helps balance that.

For me, Victor’s route was the easiest route to play. I didn’t hit any bad ends for Saint Germain, either, but I was more uncertain about some of the choices. Victor’s are so easy you kind of have to choose them on purpose to fail.

Victor doesn’t trust himself, Cardia and Victor both believe they don’t really deserve to live. The fact that the choices and overarching plot of the route is basically “Trust Victor because he’ll do literally anything to protect you, even controvert the laws of the universe, so don’t you dare give up, but also protect him from his own stupid choices motivated by survivor’s guilt” is pretty wholesome.

Victor’s route is, I would say, the most wholesome, and I’m sure I’m not biased or anything.

All the boys have things that allow them to sympathize with Cardia, but I feel like Victor and Cardia have the most similar backstory. Victor sees himself as a monster because his work massacred the innocent vampires, and Cardia sees herself as a monster because her poison killed the only person who ever loved her aside from her father who abandoned her and told her she wasn’t allowed to ever love anyone.

Granted, there’s no revenge or closure or anything on the villagers for what they did in Victor’s route, but there is acceptance, understanding, and healing, because both of them have ugly, horrible tragedy in their history that they can’t go back and change or make better, but they have someone who loves and understands them and doesn’t blame them for it anyway.

Victor is at once plagued with the guilt and self-loathing that tells him he doesn’t deserve to be happy and just so desperate to make up for what he’s done and find a way for someone to forgive him so he can forgive himself.

But man.

Cardia is transforming into the Philosopher’s Stone in Victor’s route, which means this person he loves, the only person who knows everything about him and loves him anyway, is a ticking time bomb who is going to explode and wipe out an entire city full of innocent people again, and it’ll be his fault for not doing anything.

Because the queen isn’t pretending to be a good person in this route, she gets the most development out of all the routes. (she has a really weak and shallow epiphany in Lupin’s route that matches Victor’s, but that’s the ‘must resolve all plot threads whether it makes sense or not’ thing) It’s also the one that most clearly shows she’s romantically interested in her knight.

Victor’s route climax has him caught between two horrible fates: allow Queen Victoria to release the Zicterium and massacre her own people to plunge the world into a massive war so that Cardia will survive and be allowed to live as a normal human girl, dying beside her in the process, or...allow Cardia to be the one who kills all of Steel London when she explodes, killing her as well. No third option, no ‘save all of London’.

This is just. so cruel to Victor. He has a big flashing button on his chest that says ‘traumatized by the fact that Zicterium killed a bunch of people after he accidentally invented it’, and then his route climax is him stuck in a dilemma where the only answer is ‘everyone dies by Zicterium’.

Despite that, Victor thinks just incredibly fast on his feet, and he’s so dedicated to his ideals and pacifism that he’s able to finally sway Leonhard into defying the queen’s commands and defending her from herself. I don’t particularly find Victoria sympathetic regardless of her motivations, because she’s a ruthless killer who massacred the vampires and tried her literal hardest to do the same to her own people in a misguided attempt to protect Britain, but the route tries to make her sympathetic anyway.

Victor and Cardia both get BDH moments, including Cardia rescuing herself from being a hostage and showing up at the showdown to allow the heroes to fight to their fullest without fear of her being killed as a hostage.

And they’re always like ‘I’d rather die for you’ ‘no, I can’t live in a world without you, I’ll die first’. Honestly, they’re just...so adorable.

Cardia’s poison goes away late in the route because she’s mid-transformation, which gives Victor the ability to kiss and touch her without fear.

and rather than try to explain how cute it is, I show a picture and save probably literally 1,000 words

aaa

so perfect and cute.

...

I think I’ve gotten lost in the weeds again.

anyway.

so.

Honestly, you won’t be surprised by the queen AT ALL if you just go by what happens in the route. It relies on you being tricked by Impey and Helsing’s routes where she comes off as good-natured and reliable, so that you’ll fall for her tricks in Victor’s route. Aleister’s role in the route is pretty much superfluous, though, he’s there to be annoying and hold Cardia captive so that Victor can be scared for her, and then flounce off into the night in style because you just saw him star back in Van’s route.

The other boys also don’t contribute that much to Victor’s route, other than being there in the big showdown while they fight off the Twilight troops and helping Victor try to sneak into the castle again. Saint-Germain briefly features to tell Cardia what she’s feeling is love, but even though the routes usually have the ‘next in line’ feature in the route to tease you, there’s just so much going on with Victor that there’s no time for Germain to do much but look absolutely fabulous and murder Finis so hard he doesn’t come back.

Both of Victor’s endings are so good!

His normal/bad ending is one of the more tragic and painful of the endings, and while it’s not as completely different as Impey’s, it still feels unique and based off of the choice you make, not just collected affection points deciding if the story cuts off too soon or not.

It just works. Cardia deciding to take away the responsibility from Victor and  save his life by killing herself is well within her personality, and it plays out so painfully tragic - as she didn’t know he was only moments away from finding the solution to save her.

It’s also interesting, because Fran’s is the only ‘normal’ ending in the original game where Cardia dies instead of the love interest. Her dedication to making sure that Victor survives, and her determination not to live a life without Victor is just that strong.

Poor Victor.

BUT ANYWAY ONTO THE GOOD END.

Victor being willing to put Zicterium in his mouth so that he can feed it to her, conveniently in the form of a kiss! Granted, he does point out it’s much less volatile and immediately deadly in liquid form, but it’s still extremely dangerous, since leaving anything behind or swallowing any of it could be terrible.

Victor gets to kiss Cardia more than the other boys, but, look. he

earned it

.

It kind of cracks me up, honestly, that while Victor is always looking for a cure for Cardia, it’s only on his route that he immediately figures out a fix. Most people have to either wait for Future Blessings before he’s done or complete her transformation into the philosopher’s stone, but Victor is like ‘well it’s a prototype but it’s one I’m willing to trust my lips and other things to’

To be fair, the version he gives Cardia in his route requires her to constantly take it, and never neutralizes it completely while the others are one-and-done, but still.

ANYWAY

The fact that Victor refuses to see her as anything but a beautiful, lovely, human young girl and that Cardia refuses to blame Victor for the atrocities that the queen perpetrated, that she gently holds him when he cries and he removes his gloves to touch her face when she thinks she’s becoming a horrible monster....they’re just so sweet.

They’re so adorable.

in conclusion:

VICTOR IS THE BEST!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

also, how can I not love the ship when it is “Victor Frankenstein and his monster”

...anyway now that I’m done gushing about Victor (for now, wait for the coda and the future blessings review) I guess it’s time to move on and cry about Saint Germain, the second most perfect man.

[bangtanblurbs]

abyss

song: abyss by jin

first experience: as a relatively new song, i remember clearly abyss’ drop. 12/2/2020 - several months into whatever quarantine had come to mean by that point, thanksgiving had just past and christmas was coming up in a matter of weeks. those few weeks between the holidays often pass by in a blur for me. holidays are hard. they’re not the romantic times they always were when i was a child. once again i’d been sitting at home in my tiny studio apartment, freezing, trying to crank through work and school obligations. i can assure you my headspace was less than great, between the cold, the holiday season, the deadlines that had piled up... abyss dropping was the perfect medicine for how i was feeling. 

feelings: when i listen to abyss i can’t help but feel emotional. of course. naturally the accompanying note that came with abyss was heartbreaking enough. but at the same time, the song feels like home. it feels like walking into my apartment after a long day and slipping into my favorite hoodie that desperately needs to be thrown into the wash. the familiar feeling brings about warmth despite the sobering reality that i’m still here, by myself, slipping into my ratty clothing and climbing into bed to disassociate from the self-hatred, stress, obligation, and grief i carry daily. the reality is, listening to abyss is like listening to my inner voice. i’m not saying i understand jin, or any of the shit he’s obviously gone through and dealt with in his very colorful life, but i feel close to him whenever i put the song on. i feel like as i grow older - i grow into myself - i grow into the pain i’ve harbored for years now. while i sometimes feel like i’m drowning in the abyss, at least i have the comfort that my feelings aren’t as alien as they seem. especially for someone who has been fortunate in life in many ways - this song shows me that i’m still *allowed* to hurt. i’m still allowed to carry my pain and feel it flow through me. 

i must also say, that my heart broke many times know that jin feels the emotions that abyss conveys. the self-doubt, the anxiety... how we all must wish we could wash it away. i only hope with all of my heart that he’s been given time, space, and resources to process his emotions fully. i can’t imagine carrying what he’s carrying and having the schedule he has. bless. 

personal connection: as alluded to, i’m not the most stable person. i can post happy photos online, i can breathe my idealism into others, i can love with the full capacity of my heart - but i have plenty of demons. i’m not sure where they came from, i noticed them around the time i became a teenager - that sinking feeling that all aspects of my existence are ugly, undesirable, annoying. these demons have never gone away. no matter how much i strive for my dreams, no matter what i accomplish, the amount of solitude that exists in my life allows for the cracks in my heart to rip open forcefully. 

it’s this very thinking that limits me. i don’t believe in myself. i don’t really believe in anything if i’m being honest. everything feels dark. there’s ups and downs. much how jin describes in the song - i desperately want to be a part of a more vibrant existence. i deeply want to connect with others, but the anxiety, the self doubt, the hatred i harbor, they’re paralyzing. simple tasks - texting a friend to make plans, following through with plans, speaking in a group setting, advocating for myself, they’re all things i’d rather shut the door on. vulnerability? i can’t open myself up for any more pain. in my mind, i’d rather retreat to the darkness, convincing myself i’m not worthy of taking another’s time, space, efforts. and i get overwhelmed, the feelings that jin is describing perfectly - having someone take an interest in me - having someone show me love... it feels false, it takes my breath away, only makes me question more. it makes me wonder how long i’ll indulge them before i push them away and move to my own abyss. 

in abyss jin isn’t even talking about another person. he’s speaking to himself. there’s not a romantic or even friendship he’s speaking of in the song. it’s more about like - is it okay for me to feel happy or hopeful? am i someone who should be allowed to meet happiness? this is something i relate to even more profoundly than the previously mentioned worries over letting new people into my life. ever since i went off to university from my kinda shitty hometown i wondered... is this life something i’m allowed to have for myself? am i worthy of it? did i do anything to deserve the place i’m at? i feel often like my work, my thoughts, my actions -- they’re not enough to place me in some of the places i’ve been lucky enough to have a seat. these doubts can cripple me with inaction and keep me chained to the present, or at the very least held back from progress and moving forward. these feelings were exactly what i was going through in december. do i deserve to be pursuing my phd? am i worthy? i haven’t accomplished near what my peers have, and i probably never will... i’m not as passionate as the others i pass by in the hallways, those i share a floor with at meetings... i’m a shell compared to them. should i retreat to my abyss rather than continue to occupy space where i don’t feel i’m allowed to be? am i allowed to celebrate and feel happiness when i’m not really doing as well as i could be?

obviously this sounds like whining, it sounds pathetic. and perhaps to someone it is, but it’s the reality of my mind. it’s something i bear and it’s something i’m finally okay sharing with others. i don’t know how to overcome these emotions i harbor - but that feeling of feeling most comfortable in my abyss, in the dark, in the little world i’ve created in my lonely haven... that’s my reality. that’s the feeling that i’ve connected to when i listen to abyss. it’s those moments when you look our your window, at your phone, and you see the outside world moving rapidly in the sunlight, and you can’t help but feel you don’t deserve to be a part of it... you can’t help but know that your true place is in the abyss. the pleasure i receive from escaping reality is unexplainable. and sometimes, it’s pleasure in the fact that i’m punishing myself, putting myself in the dark and ugly place i think i truly belong. that abyss - it’s my haven. it’s my sanctuary. 

song breakdown:

musically: abyss is beautifully understated musically, but not in a way that makes it a stripped vocal song... but instead in a way that highlights the emotion laden in jin’s voice. the piano backing picks up with the song and brings in some effects along the way to highlight the emotional pauses between the heavy lyrics. its the perfect ballad. truly. the incorporation of a steady beat track at the second verse also ads to the emotions of feeling like something is dragging, the monotony of these emotions as one carries through each day. 

the dramatic pauses that lead into the verses and highlight the pure emotion carried in jin’s tone also bring emphasis to the powerful refrain in the chorus - it’s almost reminiscent of personal realizations, personal *epiphanies* one might say. that moment where you draw in a big breath and gulp it down before confronting your demons. while the track keeps it’s steady pace, it does what it should for this piece - highlights the beauty of jin’s voice, and carries the weight of the emotions in the lyrics. 

vocally: honestly, just wow. jin’s voice, is absolutely stunning in this song. completely breathtaking in the best kind of way. i say this with nothing but complete respect - jin’s vocals have done nothing but improve and grow in strength over time to the complete crisp perfection they are today. the amount of emotion he carries in his tone is also perfect to deliver such a profound ballad as abyss. i hope he knows that we can feel every ounce of truth and healing he put into the song. 

we all know jin is the high note king, but he honestly ops for more of a storytelling vibe in this song, keeping within his lower register throughout the verses. it really isn’t until we are mid-chorus that we get the breathtaking high note during the line “ 잠기고 싶어 가보고 싶어.” this is perhaps the most profound lyric of the chorus as well, since it’s the moment in which jin expresses a desire. most of the lyrics up to that point explain a state of being, his emotions, but at this point - he is almost calling out his desire. his painful desire. to stay lost within in his abyss. it’s painful and stunningly beautiful at the same time.

the genius of the entire song was jin delivering abyss in a way that we don’t always hear him sing in BTS songs. the buttery smoothness of his voice is on full display, with no need to stay in his high register for long we can really hear the weight in his tone, the pleading in his voice, the sincerity. it’s sobering, and it’s powerful. and i must say, i can’t wait to get more songs like this from jin in the future. i hope he continues to share his heart, his voice, and his talent with us. 

lyrically: oh man. this one is a deep cut. you can really feel jin’s voice throughout the lyrics of abyss. the accompanying note that he released with the song brings a lot of context and understanding to the lyrics. in the note jin explains feeling inadequate and insecure in light of the amazing accomplishments that BTS had made over the years, specifically highlighting the #1 on Billboard Hot 100. he explains that he felt like his passion and talents were lacking compared to others in music, and felt undeserving of the love, joy, and recognition he received. his emotions seem to be similar to those of imposter syndrome, feeling like he doesn’t belong in a space he inhabits and actually receives accolades for existing within. what’s more telling is in this note jin expresses his apprehension to share these sadder emotions he harbors. this song is so incredibly raw for being a place in which jin finally found a space in which to express his feelings, let them run freely and beautifully without the concern that he needed to stay strong for ARMY.

to jump right into a closer analysis of the lyrics - the song begins with a story like vibe. the first lyric “i hold my breath as i walk into my sea” brings about the image of the speaker (i apologize in advance if i alternate between speaker and jin) beginning their descent into deeper waters of the ocean. the speaker is bracing for this though, as they are the one propelling it forward with enough pacing to prepare and hold their breath. to me, this is alluding to jin knowing that he’s falling into a darker space in his mind, consciously allowing himself to slip into that space. he then moves into describing his state “i face myself who is crying beautifully and sorrowfully.” jin is describing that he’s taking account of his state, speaking to himself and seeing the distraught state that exists within his mind -- seeping into his outer appearance. 

the pre-chorus moves into a different vibe, jin addresses the duality in himself. he recognizes both the parts of himself that are strong - that can shoulder and carry the parts of him that are deeply broken and sad. “myself in that darkness / i’d like to go find him and tell him” this is jin speaking with clarity to his broken self, his rationality coming through to speak to the parts of him that are insecure and hurting. “that i’d like to know more about you today, yeah” perhaps this is jin’s way of saying that he wishes he understood himself better, that he wishes he could more confidently identify the emotions he was feeling and process them fully. the pre-chorus in my mind is jin using some clarity to check in with himself and take inventory of his state when he’s in his darkest moments.

the chorus picks up and delivers a few devastatingly beautiful and sobering lines. “still, i remain with myself / with my voice unable to come out, i just circle around him.” this is where we see the ultimate conclusion of the engagement in the pre-chorus... jin’s insecurity and pain keeps his strength from winning out. the duality in his being still exists, but in this moment it’s the pain, the insecurity, the feelings of inadequacy that have won out. “that dark place, / i’d like to be submerged in it, i’d like to go to it / i’ll be there” jin then places us back into the story he started in the beginning of the song - he’s submerged in the abyss, the darkest and deepest point of the ocean. he speaks to taking the time to really feel the emotions that he is harboring, causing him pain. while this could be a conscious decision he is making to better understand and process his emotions it’s also likely that this desire is rooted in self-loathing, a desire to self-punish for his perceived shortcomings. the pleasure that sometimes one can gain from fully feeling pain that they believe they deserve. the line about being submerged also brings about the image of an anchor in my mind - like these emotions are weighing jin down. while anchors may sink slowly (like slowly taking a breath and walking into the sea) they’re hard to pull back up -- they want to stay seated to the ground, where they belong to do their job. perhaps jin is in some ways alluding to this. either way, the chorus is about a desire to remain in the dark place, where it feels safe, where he feels he deserves to be. the final line is “today as well, i circle around you again.” which brings us back to the pre-chorus dialogue between jin’s duality - the part of him that may rationally understand that he deserves love, that he works hard, that he is worthy... but yet this part can’t seem to gain control over the darker feelings within him... so there’s this idling, this perpetual circle of inaction. 

moving into the second verse this interaction occurring within jin’s inner being continues. “the closer i get to you, the more breathless i become and the father away you feel” while this line is a bit more difficult for me to completely understand what i think he is speaking to is that as he begins to think he understands his emotions, when he thinks he might be regaining his confidence he realizes he is only scratching the surface. he realizes that there’s more to his darker emotions than he’d initially thought. perhaps he thought he was just having a bad day or feeling in funk, but then he realizes that there’s a piece of him that he doesn’t quite understand and perhaps isn’t ready to understand as the word “breathless” invokes a feeling of overwhelm. the second and closing line of the verse is “wouldn’t it be that you went deeper into the sea, yeah” invoking that these darker emotions only continue to grow, evolve, and perhaps overwhelm. he feels like he can’t quite pull himself out of the place he’s in, no matter what he tries. 

the pre-chrous as analyzed above then repeats, although the meaning is somewhat different when following the second verse. this is because the nature of the second verse is more hopeless in nature, therefore while jin would like to be able to regain some control over these darker feelings -- he’s just expressed that as he tries he finds it more overwhelming and difficult. finds himself moving further into the dark emotions. 

the final chorus is different that the previous - the lyrics change and while they continue a deeply sorrowful theme, they also bring about some hope. the first line, “still, i remain with you” is telling. jin is reminding himself that even if he feels consumed by these emotions, the other components of him still exist. he isn’t just the darker feelings that have taken precedence. he can have his confidence when he’s ready, he can maintain his duality. all aspects of jin, even if he’s feeling broken. “with my voice unable to come out, i just circle around him.” even if he feels he can’t gain control of these emotions, he can be patient with himself, he can know that there’s the potential that he can overcome, but also he knows that it’s okay in this moment to just feel. “that dark place / i’d like to be submerged in it, i’d like to go to it” this line is re-emphasizing jin’s desire to stay in the place where he feels comfortable, where he can feel his darker emotions, where he things he truly deserves to be. “today as well, like this, i close my eyes to get to you.” this is the final line of the song and it delivers a sense of comfort. no matter what, jin knows that he can be at peace - he may have these darker emotions, but he can close his eyes, he can rest and carry all aspects of his emotional state. the dark, the light, the highs and the lows. he can take his time in the abyss when he needs to. 

tl;dr? abyss is one of those songs that anyone who has struggled with self-doubt, dabbled or dipped fully into self-hatred can identify with. many people i’m sure have their own abyss. their own place in their mind where they’d like to lock themselves in - a prison of their own design that in one way might be one’s punishment for their perceived shortcomings, but also can be a paradise when a beautiful being seemingly undeserved reality feels like too much to bear. jin’s artistry both in terms of lyrics and vocals are on full display in the song - showing his amazing range and delivering a piece full of emotional tones. abyss is a stunning piece of the man’s mind and heart that i am extremely grateful to be able to experience. 

[thetypedwriter]

How to Repair A Mechanical Heart Book Review

How to Repair A Mechanical Heart by J.C. Lillis

This book was such a cataclysmic experience for me-it was like two of my favorite worlds combined and then combusted and blew apart. “How to Repair A Mechanical Heart” is a short and sweet YA novel from author J.C. Lillis who apparently has written other novels although I haven’t heard from her before.

I could tell that this was one of those novels where the author took the whole ploy of “write what you know” to the extreme and while sometimes it came across as cheeky and charming other times it just came across as indulgent and ridiculous. 

    But let’s jump in. 

    The novel features primarily our main character Brandon who is going through a repressed-gay-awakening and suffering though crushing amouts of Catholic guilt (same bro, same), crippling self-doubt, and regular bouts of self-loathing and criticism from said Jesus-filled upbringing.

Despite all this, surprisingly, Lillis manages to keep a pretty upbeat, light, and humorous tone, which to some extent is appreciated when discussing all these particularly heavy topics, but also shaves off the gravity of the situations the characters are facing and the depth of the characters themselves. 

    Brandon finds himself on a six week road trip around the US with his best friend Bec and his would-be-crush Abel as they travel the continental midwest for Castaway Planet conventions, the made up fandom that both Abel and Brandon are obsessed with.

The book features at length discussion on fandom culture, including but not limited to merch, action figures, fan vlogs, fangirls, twitter beefs, and fanfiction. Holy Hell, the fanfiction. About ⅓ of this book was about fanfiction and fanfiction culture and norms. 

    Now, I’d like to intercede here to say that I. LOVE. FANFICTION. Honestly, it gives me life. I write it, I read it, I adore it. I have loved fanfiction since I was twelve years old and to this day there are still fanfictions that are dearer and nearer to my heart than actual novels.

That being said, I didn’t really enjoy it here in the novel? I thought I would like it, but Lillis makes fandom and fanfiction culture simplified and almost petty and I didn’t always groove with her portrayal of it. Now, this might very well be her own personal experience with her own fandoms, but it’s not mine and it rubbed me the wrong way even if I can recognize that.

The clash between the fanfiction world and the real world in the novel often collided so much that the line was blurred between what I was reading really being a novel or if it was a glorified fanfiction. Or both. Or consequently neither. 

    And while the love story between Abel and Brandon is cute, it’s just...not anything else? It’s cute and Abel is witty, but them as characters and their story as a whole is highly forgettable.

There wasn’t much about this book, other than the blatant cross-over of the fanfiction trope, that was stunning or memorable to me. And Bec, Jesus (oh, no Father Mike must be condemning me!), the super OC, super bland, could-be-the-poster-girl for Corn Flakes, was about the most useless character I’ve ever seen. I think Lillis used her just to have someone be able to film Abel and Brandon because she had very little to offer in terms of character, personality, or plot. 

    This is one of those books, that while enjoyable in the moment, fades with pleasure as time goes on, like chewing on a piece of Juicy Fruit, it’s sweet and satisfying for a hot second and then turns bland and boring and you spit it out. And while that may seem harsh for “How to Repair A Mechanical Heart” it’s unfortunately true.

I did like the double entendre that the fanfiction Brandon was reading and then consequently finished was also called by the same name-how clever!-again, it just shows the distortion between whether Lillis was writing fanfiction about OC characters that nobody cared about, or about a novel that didn’t quite get the depth or maturity it needed to flourish. 

Recommendation: If you are absolutely starving for some LGBTQ+ fiction and have scrounged up dry then I suppose you can read this. Or if you really get a kick out of seeing your secret fanfiction world come to life in another fictional world than this will really get your socks off. But in general, not the greatest love story, deepest characters, or best writing that I’ve seen, although some of her metaphors were quite funny and well put. 

Score: 6/10 

[elegantmoonchild]

WIP Game

The Rules: Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous.

I was tagged by the wonderful @jimalim a while back. It took me a bit to compile all the projects I’m working on, but here they are! Fingers crossed that some actually get finished 😂

Bughead:

For All Time — World traveler and photographer Betty Cooper knew her entire life that Jughead Jones was meant to be the love of her life. When they finally meet, somewhere in the shops of an old Brooklyn borough, he is taken aback by her sudden insistence that they belong, however he is subjected to her theories as they continue on their assignment together, backpacking across Europe collecting tales for his travel blog. When he begins to have visions of her death, however, he begins to question whether what she says is true, and as their relationship deepens, he starts to give in to the emotions she claims they’ll share together. When signs point to her impending demise, can he work to stop the clock in time or will he lose the one person he never knew he needed until he had her? And should she perish, can he fight to get her back or will he learn that sometimes love may not be enough to transcend time? 

Snapshots — What’s a story only half-told?An afternoon of reading old diaries and manuscripts turns into a lifetime of memories played before Betty and Jughead as they dig through the past. What were the moments leading up to the romance of sophomore year that stood out to Betty in her diaries, Jughead in the manuscript he wrote about his story with the girl-next-door? How did their epic love story play out for the couple beyond the events of Jason Blossom’s murder that shook the bedrock of Riverdale? -- Currently on AO3

INSIDE -- Stepping into her father’s shoes was always the plan for ambitious detective Betty Cooper, her endless dream of taking down the bad guy imprinted on every step of her path from childhood to adult. She had worked hard to gain the respect of her superiors, and suddenly she lands the opportunity of a lifetime – going undercover to investigate the shocking murder of Jason Blossom, the son of a well-known businessman in Riverdale, NY. The job was simple: get beneath the surface, lie low, and pay attention. However, when Betty is assigned to infiltrate the Serpents, a notorious gang in the Southside part of town, she finds it harder than expected to blend in, catching the eye of nefarious leader Jughead Jones. Will she make it out alive with the answers she craves, or will she find herself stepping in the path of a very dangerous man, locked in the snake pit that she can’t escape?

In Her Own Words -- At the young age of 19, Elizabeth Cooper, daughter of the Earl of Cooper, found herself courted and wooed by the famous heir to the House of Andrews, the crowned prince who she was to wed. After a hasty engagement, a whirlwind of press and protocol, Betty found herself surrounded by people but still felt so alone, her mental health taking a dive as her marriage began to crumble around her feet. Her husband’s secret affair with long-term friend Veronica and the spotlight of the world upon her both lead to years of self-harm and isolation, and soon the only joy she feels is the sparkle of laughter she shares with the Prince’s personal secretary, Forsythe “Jughead” Jones. She puts on a brave face beneath the scrutinizing gaze of the public eye, but inside she’s falling apart, and it isn’t long before she learns she has to push back and fight for herself or else she won’t survive. Will the reaffirmed belief in true, albeit forbidden love with her close friend and confidante claim her downfall or will it give her the strength to stand on her own two feet and become the Queen she was always meant to be?Or the retelling of Princess Diana’s tragic, yet inspiring life based off the documentary “Diana: In Her Own Words”. This story will be interview style in the first person with Princess Elizabeth “Betty” Cooper with memories and flashbacks retelling her ill-fated romance and involvement with the House of Andrews, and her future beyond the weight of the crown.

But Now I See -- Ever since she was a child, Betty Cooper felt she was meant for something greater, meant to make the world shine brighter. As she grew older, and life became too difficult, she sought comfort in the church, soothing her emotional scars with the words of God and Christ. Devoted to her cause and her faith, she sets forth on a course to take a vow of postulancy. For most of his life, renowned pianist Jughead Jones always kept his head down, choosing to create his own masterpieces in the shadows, free without the confinements of society. His life is forever changed, however, when he gets into a horrific car accident, the end result being a crippling blindness that makes him question everything he thought he knew.When the two meet in the hospital ward and strike up a friendship, they begin to doubt their beliefs in both faith and purpose. Will Betty complete her journey to become a nun or will she realize her purpose lies in the heart of another, and will Jughead finally learn to believe in the good of fate or will he succumb to the demons that haunt him forever?

That’s Why I’m Here -- oneshot where Betty and Jughead meet at an AA meeting, bonding over their broken parents

Title still undecided -- Betty is a sex talk show host who is, in reality, fairly inexperienced with good sex. Jughead is a journalist who tries to uncover the truth about the sensationalized, famous show host. She ends up getting him to break down his walls while he teaches her a thing or two about good lovemaking. Basically an excuse to write porn with good plot.

SweetVee:

Title still undecided -- serial killer AU where Veronica and Sweet Pea try to track down a killer obsessed with Veronica 

Title still undecided -- Veronica takes her daughter with her to live at Alice Cooper’s ranch after her messy separation from her husband where she meets ranch hand Sweet Pea.

Relatively Stable -- For the first time since medical school, Veronica Lodge, MD was on top of her game. One of the youngest and most sought after doctors at Riverdale General, she exuded both sophistication and grace as she fought to save life after life in the Intensive Care Unit. But when an ambitious new nurse named Sweet Pea challenges her authority, she takes it personally, and the two butt heads by the bedside, patient after patient.When a young man comes through the Emergency Room one night, bleeding out from a massive car wreck, Veronica and Sweet Pea have to put aside their differences to save his life. Fighting to keep their patient stable starts to bring them closer, their feelings becoming far more carnal than clinical, and despite their numerous differences Veronica may learn that Sweet Pea is just what the doctor ordered.Will both their relationship and their patient survive the night? Find out in Relatively Stable, a medical narrative that asks the question – is love the best medicine or can the heart only take so much before it arrests and dies?

On The Run -- Veronica Lodge was on the verge of seventeen, and all she wanted to do was forget about the responsibilities her parents expected of her and revel in the passion she shared with secret boyfriend, bad boy biker Sweet Pea, who had a reputation that made her rich father’s blue blood boil. Defying her parents’ wishes, she sneaks out of her penthouse bedroom one evening for a twilight filled with freedom, experimental sex, and cocaine-fueled excitement. However, what starts as an act of teenage rebellion quickly turns into a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, a run-in with the Ghoulies leading to an all-out brawl that spells trouble for the ill-fated lovebirds. As Sweet Pea and Veronica flee for their lives, on the run from violent gangs, vigilant law enforcement, and her family’s disappointment, Veronica has to make a choice — give up the rush to enter adulthood with a safe, respectable reputation or throw it all away for the bad boy with a cold sneer and a heart of gold.

My Favorite Piece of You -- Cakes, tarts, and pies -- all delectable treats served up at the Serpentine Bakery, the lunch time haunt that ambitious businesswoman Veronica Lodge frequents every single day. For the past year, she’s been coming to the cafe, indulging in its simple pleasures, until one day she unknowingly insults the attractive yet surly owner, motorcycle enthusiast Sweet Pea. After a sour meet cute, the two begin to form a connection over the concoctions that he creates behind the counter of the bakery, an appetizing alliance that takes them both by surprise. However, over time they begin to wonder if the chemistry between them can withstand a dose of sugar or if their relationship has too much spice to be a good thing. They’ll have to knead out the kinks in their peppery personalities if they want their love to rise, but one thing’s for sure -- Veronica Lodge has got one Hell of a sweet tooth.

Multiship:

To Riverdale, with love -- What is Christmas to the stranger next to you? Is it a time to sing joyous carols door to door in the freezing cold? Is it a time to curl up next to a fire with a cup of hot cocoa while surrounded by loved ones? Is it a time to bury beneath blankets to hide from the sorrow of what a Christmas without that special someone feels like? Follow along in this seasonal treat as nine stories weave in and out like holiday tinsel in this Love Actually inspired fanfic, including the romance and friendships of nine different pairings in Riverdale, the town where one might just find that love truly is all around. -- COMING CHRISTMAS SEASON 2018

There’s also a whole host of one shot ideas and other multi-chapter fics I have saved, but haven’t quite touched yet. 

If you’d like to know more about any of these projects, please feel free to reach out to me!!!

[crazyblondelife]

12 Ways to Build Confidence and Live a Joyful Life

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, ‘Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabuous?’ Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.” ~ Marianne Williamson

The quote above from Marianne Williamson is one of my favorite quotes and it is true of all of us. We are adequate and powerful and brilliant and wonderful just because we were born. Some days, we are able to go out and feel as if we could conquer the world, but other days (or months), our confidence has been shaken for one reason or the other. It’s on those days, that reading the quote and knowing deep inside that it’s true, isn’t quite enough, we need practical ways to talk ourselves off the cliff, so to speak. Most successful people credit their sense of self and their confidence to their success. But not many people really explain how to build confidence, or how to become confident. Confidence is built on inherently knowing your worth and making choices that feed your passion, the accomplishments that follow make you feel happy and proud of who you are. Discovering these things is one of the most worthwhile things you will ever do.

Most of us have a vision of what we want our lives to look like, but we hold ourselves back by allowing the opinions of others, and/or a low self confidence get in the way. We do the same things over and over again without changing because of a fear of what others may think or because we truly believe that failure is a possibility. Failure is a total possibility, but success is also and sometimes you just have to get back up and start again. Getting back up after failing is so much better than never having tried.

Confident people love themselves, but for some reason one of the most difficult tasks for any of us is learning how to practice self love. Having confidence in yourself is key to living a joyful life. Society would have us believe that self confidence is something that comes from the approval of others. However, looking for validation from others will keep you stuck, trying to please in the hopes that you will one day feel like you’re enough, or you’ve done enough. That day will never come because f you don’t trust and love yourself, you will find other people and things to place your trust in, and you’ll slowly give away your power.

TRUE HAPPINESS LIES IN THE REALIZATION THAT YOU ARE ENOUGH.

Your confidence comes from the thoughts you have about yourself and it plays a role in almost everything you do. Having confidence helps you make positive choices in your every day life and gives you the courage to be your own person, have good relationships and deal with difficult situations. Accept who you because your own acceptance is the only acceptance you will ever need. What other people think of you is none of your business and doesn’t matter. Recognize your genius and be proud to share it. Here are my thoughts on how to find confidence on the days when it’s not so easy.

Let Go of Limiting Beliefs - You must believe in yourself and your vision. Let go of anything that isn’t serving you…including self doubt, fear and the people that don’t support you. Replace those negative thoughts with more positive thoughts which celebrate things you’re good at. Try making a list of three things you do well and remember this list when you start feeling down, this will stop you from feeling sorry for yourself and repeating old patterns. Create a different perspective by looking at hard situations from different angles. Look at a situation through a more realistic lens and you’ll realize that you actually can begin to do what you want. By doing this every time you have a negative thought, you’ll eventually train yourself to be positive. This is inner work that must be done! Remind yourself that, despite your problems, you are unique, special and valuable and that you deserve to feel good about yourself. You are, after all, as Marianne Williamson said a “child of God”, so challenge any negative thoughts about yourself and turn them around.

2. Take Care of Yourself - Eating well and exercising make you feel good and stimulates a positive mood. When you exercise, you ease stress and feel better about yourself. Exercise benefits your health in general but it also helps memory retention, improves focus, helps manage stress and prevents depression. Regular exercise can improve every aspect of your life. So stay active and make time to take care of yourself.

3. Take Time to Relax - Stress plays a huge role in negative self esteem. Reduce your stress by taking time out to do something you find relaxing. This can be anything from taking a bath, listening to beautiful music, meditating or taking a walk in nature…if it works for you, do it! Do More of What Makes You Happy! Whatever it is you love, create space for it in your life.

4. Set Goals and Get Things Done - Take the time every day to think about what you’d like to achieve. Then set realistic goals each day and keep track of your progress by writing down what you’ve accomplished. Some days it might be as simple as finishing your work or cleaning up. You’ll feel an enormous sense of accomplishment when you’ve crossed off everything on your list for the day. However, don’t get bogged down by the list; some days you won’t manage to get it all done and thats fine. Confidence is built on accomplishment, so set a goal for yourself, and get going!

5. Surround Yourself With People Who Make You Feel Good - Spend your time with people who appreciate and care about you. Distance yourself from people who make you feel bad about yourself. When you start being unapologetic about making your vision for life the most important thing, the people who aren’t supportive will usually either change their mind or they’ll go away because your energy is just too positive for them. Either way, it’s ok.

6. Be Mindful of Your Progress - The best way to reach your goals, big or small, is break them into smaller goals and to monitor your progress. Whether you’re trying to start a business, change careers, eat healthier or lose 10 pounds, the best way to know if you’re making progress is to monitor it. You’ll build confidence as you see the progress you’re making every day.

7. Do the Next Right Thing - Most confident people live by a value system and make their decisions based on that value system. Your actions and your decisions define your character. Ask yourself, what is the next right action. What would the best version of yourself do, and then do it. Even when it’s really hard and its the last thing you want to do, in the long run you’re going to like yourself more and be prouder of who you are.

8. Be Fearless - Failing sometimes is inevitable but it’s the fear of failure that’s crippling. If you set big goals and have big dreams, you’re going to feel overwhelmed, and at times, you’re going to get tired or have a bad day and you’re inevitably going to feel like you can’t go on. In those moments you have to look inside yourself, gather your courage just keep going. One small step at a time. Every successful person has been afraid, and they’ve kept working and taking risks anyway, because what they are trying to accomplish is more important than their fear of failure. Think about what you want for your life, then put your fear aside and keep going, one day at a time.

9. Don’t let anyone, ever make you feel like you don’t deserve what you want. You deserve everything you want!

10. Follow Through - You will respect yourself if you say you’re going to do something and you do it, and believing in yourself will come more easily, because you know you are not afraid to do the work. Action gives meaning to your words, and it will help you to accomplish your goals, strengthen your relationships and feel proud of who you are.

11. Plan For the Long Term - Decisions made for the short term can keep your long term goals from being realized. If you’re trying to save money, you can’t go out to eat as much. If you’re trying to lose weight, you can eat french fries as often (you get the picture). Big goals require small daily sacrifices, you must be disciplined. “Discipline is the gap between goals and accomplishment”. Remember the quote from Oprah Winfrey - “Luck is when preparation meets opportunity.” Doing the best you can in this moment makes the moments to come better!

12. Don’t Care What Others Think - This goes along with surrounding yourself with supportive people. There are going to be so many people who will tell you that you cannot accomplish your goal, tell you that your goal is too big, or that you’re not ready, or that it can’t be done, or that it’s never been done. You absolutely must never listen to them. People change the world every day, despite everyone around them telling them it can’t be done. If you think you can do it, you can do it. Believe in Yourself and Shine Bright!

Figure out what works for you so that you can find the confidence you need in order to have what you want. You and only you are responsible for creating the life you want to live. Get out there and make it happen!

Confidence isn’t walking into a room with your nose in the air and thinking you are better than everyone else; it’s walking into a room and not having to compare yourself with anyone in the first place!

[pidgelings]

How about a list of headcanons for Lance? Just anything that comes to mind. What he does when home alone, is he scared of bees, what's his cooking style (strictly by the book or does he get creative), do birds like him, favourite colour, etc. Anything. Have fun!! And congrats on 100 :D

Interesting! I haven’t really thought about sharing my thoughts on a character and my take on them before outside of AUs –

Of course, I do have a few headcanons that range from obvious to a bit more random and weird, so, let’s jump into them! Oh, and thanks for the congratulations !!

Lance Headcanons

Base Ideas

Boy is an extrovert through and through

We know he’s the youngest so I do see him as being a little spoiled

But, like, it’s the kind of spoiled when he expects to get things and then fight to keep said things

He’s so used to being surrounded by people that he kinda gets thrown off when he’s alone

He can’t sit still and needs to either be doing something or be around others

He’s kinda the guy that’ll call up random friends on Skype or something like that because he doesn’t know what to do and he’s bored

Theater Kid before the Garrison. No doubt

Can be taught anything with the right amount of patience

Wants to send out Good Vibes as much as possible

Gets really thrown off when things don’t go as he expects

[More Under the Cut]

Past Affecting Future

I see his beauty routine coming from having one or two older sisters that had a strict beauty routine themselves and they taught it to him when he was young

His family went to the movies a lot which causes him to remember and recite a lot of movie quotes and taglines

Having a bunch of love and support as a kid caused him to start questioning himself once he got older as that love and support just didn’t exist in the new people he was around a lot (take Iverson from the Garrison)

The speech he gave to Allura in Season 4 is very similar to things his parents and siblings would tell him when he felt doubtful

I want to believe he didn’t have his own room in his house so when we see him sleeping with headphones and a blindfold in Episode 2 of Season 1, that was based on habit from his home life

He was conditioned to be a morning person. There’s no way his family would tolerate him grumpy in the morning

His family took him on many adventures when he was a kid, which kinda made him seek new ones as he got older (which causes him to get into trouble a lot (think him trying to sneak into town with Hunk and Pidge))

He loved growing up in a big family so he wants to have his own big family someday

Self-Doubt

This developed later in life, around the time he got into the Garrison

His Self-Doubt doesn’t cripple him though as much as it causes him to step back and think

He jumps back rather quickly with someone else’s support

He can get knocked down just as quickly as he can get picked back up

He’s the kinda guy who does things because he says he wants to prove himself and the world what he’s capable of but it’s more to the former than anything else

He actually wants to prove his Self-Doubt wrong most of the time(Example: Pidge made him question if he even had a thing at all back in Beta Traz and near the end of the episode he proved to himself and the others that he was worthy of the title “Sharpshooter”)

He knows what it’s like to have Self-Doubt so he hates seeing it when other people have it themselves

Sadly, this can manifest in different ways and some ways are less friendly than others(Think back to Episode 1 when he launches Hunk out of the Blue Lion to get the Yellow Lion after Hunk expressed his worries. Lance was super stressed and seeing Hunk doubt himself at a time like that freaked Lance out so he had to cut the sob show short (even if it made him seem like a bit of a dick))

He uses his knowledge of the feeling to help others with it in short and he always tries to push himself past his feelings

Wacky/Random Headcanons

Star Wars fan rather than Star Trek (he does like Captain Kirk though)

Probably into ASMR and doesn’t tell anyone

Actually really into storytelling and creating (probably loves Roleplaying)

Gives really good relationship advice but promptly forgets all of it the second he meets someone he likes

Absolutely hates being around flowers and trashcans during the Summer because bees just love to crawl into his clothes and sting him (has a huge level of avoidance to bees)

Seagulls and Pelicans have always targeted him for food snatching at the beach so he doesn’t get along with them

He’s a surfer wannabe and can’t surf to save his life (a fished jump onto his board the one time he was doing a good job and he wiped out instantly after he jumped and screamed)

He’s much better at Boogie Boarding and prefers it

He wanted to become a Scuba Diver but his parents made him choose between that or the Garrison. I think you can guess what he picked

He absolutely has to be chewing something when taking off on a plane. Gummy Candy, Gum, or just anything he can chew on until the plane reaches it main altitude (if he couldn’t get something, he swallows his spit A LOT to try to get the same effect). He doesn’t know why but the one time he didn’t, his ears made him suffer for an entire trip (it’s all about equalization (he would’ve learned it if he chose Scuba over the Garrison)) (Bonus: Pidge is the exact same way)

Has probably watched a bunch of videos about the correct way to kiss someone because he does not want to fail his first kiss (he still hasn’t had one)

Does not handle spooky shit well at all -- Please don’t scare this boy --

Talks about his dreams a lot to whoever will listen 

They’re, like, weird dreams too that he doesn’t really fully understand when he wakes up“Was it a dream, was it a nightmare? I have no clue --”

Despite being a social creature, family gatherings throw him off

He’s hella awkward during them and it’s really weird because it’s just, like, that’s not the Lance everyone knows and loves

Sings in the shower all the fucking time(He also sings just while getting ready in the morning.)

MIRROR PEP TALKS !! HE DOES THOSE TOO !!

His neck, armpits, and feet are extremely ticklish. In fact, when he was a kid and his mom would try to put sunscreen on his neck, he’d giggle, scrunch up, and run away from her. Only he can touch his neck like that and not giggle.

He doesn’t know if neck kisses will have the same effect on him as the sunscreen, but he’s a little afraid to try because he wouldn’t want to hurt his partner(The sides of the neck are fine for kisses but the throat will cause him to bang his chin on his partner’s head because he’s so ticklish there)

Loves the idea of snow but hates snow itself because he’s so used to things not dropping below 70°F (about 21°C) and he can get cold rather easily (or what he thinks it cold)

Is actually a walking heater and is a great cuddle partner for cold days if you wanna stay warm

He’ll be more than willing to break gender norms if it’ll make someone he cares about happy (like wear dresses for his nieces n’ stuff like that)

Romance Headcanons

Boy is a hopeless romantic, through and through

He’s a softie for whoever he ends up with --

Like, a BIG softie --

The boy will praise his s/o any chance he gets and gush about them to anyone and everyone

The people who have to deal with this might get annoyed very easily

He’s also the one who stresses that communication is important in a relationship and will always tell his partner to tell him if there’s anything wrong

Yeah, he’ll try to hide his own stress from time to time but he’ll always eventually bring it up because hiding it forever won’t fix anything

He’s also really good at reading people so he can tell when something is bothering his partner

He wants to not just be his partner’s boyfriend but also their best friend

If you ask for him to be your friend and not your lover for a conversation, he’ll gladly set his loving bias aside to be that friend that tells you what you need to hear and not the lover who tells you what you want to hear

The boy is emotionally smart (rather than educationally smart) and anyone can see that when they talk to him

Boy is willing to do almost anything for his partner if he’s sure that they’d do the same for him (he wants to be in a mutually beneficial relationship)

Seriously, he can be what you need him to be for a while as long as he knows that when he needs you to be something for a while, you’ll return the favor

If he’s getting married to a girl and she doesn’t want a bunch of eyes on her as she walks down the wedding aisle in a gorgeous wedding dress, he will step up to the plate, wear that dress, and enjoy being in the spotlight

He’ll love someone regardless of where they came from in life

Big on cuddling so cuddles are a must if you’re gonna date him

Loves waking his partner up in the morning with a bunch of loving kisses and snuggles

The hair around the nape of his neck is hella sensitive and stroking/playing with it while relaxing with him will turn him into putty in your hands (Thanks, Tama, for that headcanon~)

Boy is going to try to be one of those fairytale princes for his partner anytime he can but he’ll mess things up a lot more often than you’d expect

When he messes up, though, he tries to play it off like the dork he is --

Will steal kisses from his partner any chance he gets (he loves giving smooches)

Would probably be one of the best dads that spoils his kids because he loves them so much (his partner better be more strict than him if they want their kids to have some discipline)

These are just some of the ideas I have for Lance Headcanons right now. I do have some NSFW headcanons too but I’ll only go into those if people are interested. XD Anyways, thanks for tossing this in and I hoped you enjoyed my ramblings on our favorite Cuban boi --

[bulletnick]

Catharsis [Iconoclasts Fanfiction]

He couldn’t stop her.

That was the trouble that solidified on Elro’s mind, over and over, ceaselessly echoing within his mind, as the moon drifted slowly across the sky, stars coming and going, making way for the bright sun.

He had no power. Whatever he wanted for her - she could just do everything against his will.

He was Robin’s older brother, and yet, he had no power to stop her. Physically, he was too weak and crippled. Intellectually, no amount of warning of danger and pain seemed to have any value to her. Emotionally… was emotions could he use to appeal to her? It seemed as though he didn’t have any left. Just a hollow shell of regrets and losses.

Elro did not sleep at all. Despite being immensely tired, his brain was just too restless for it. Perhaps it was just how surreal their ordeal had been, perhaps he’d gotten just enough rest after being shot in the back to prevent sleep, perhaps it was the pain he was doing his best to ignore - whatever the cause, Elro’s eyes never did rest that night.

So… that’s it. I have nothing left. There’s nothing of me left.

When Robin woke up in the morning, after rubbing her eyes as the sun was well on its way to the zenith, was lock eyes with him. Neither said anything, at first. They had no idea what to say, what to talk about.

They were family. They were supposed to be close, supportive, understanding. But Elro felt and saw none of it coming from Robin. Instead, she looked… apprehensive. Unsure. Unfamiliar. Eventually she got up and went for the fridge, and made a hearty breakfast. He only watched as she scarfed down food in a manner he hadn’t seen since their father was alive.

He observed her leaving some on a plate, resting on a table, just within his only arm’s reach. His gaze met hers. She said nothing, again. Just looked back. As if to say: “Eat. You need it”. Even her stare spoke so loudly, and yet in so few words.

No motion was made to pick up the food. After a minute, Robin sighed, and left the house. She didn’t tell him to stay inside, to not leave, to remain safe. Perhaps she reasoned she didn’t need to.

Indeed, she didn't. Where would be go?

The plate remained untouched as the minutes went by. Elro only leaned against the surface, consumed by thoughts.

I tried to protect her, keep her safe. Now she’s fought more battles than anyone ever should. And she remains steadfast, determined, resolute. I won’t ever be able to stop her again.

He doesn’t have his own home anymore. He doesn’t have a wife and child… taken away with Penance. He doesn't have his body, not like he used to. It’s just a pitiful fraction of his former self. He has Robin… not really. It used to be that he always knew where she was, safe, and reliable. But not anymore. Now she used to wandering the world, and getting into conflicts much bigger than she was meant to tackle. He doesn’t even have his job anymore…

Well… he wasn’t sure. One Concern surely wouldn’t last long in this new world that Robin had wrought upon everyone… but Chemico Contra had been busy for the past few months, establishing bases of operation and contacts with communities… there many areas of research still thriving and waiting to be investigated, especially Shockwood… there was promise of reliable and sustainable energy sources in that region. They might help fulfill the demand that the Ivory shortage had left behind.

Don’t fool yourself. Who would hire you? Crippled and injured. “Self-absorbed and irrational.” And of course… the Agents he helped kill. They were the enemy… but who would forgive him for such crimes?

Friends, maybe, would not reject him on the spot. Teegan had always stood up for him, even when he insisted she didn’t. As per usual, he wasn’t listened to. Everyone was always trying to tell him that he was wrong. That he didn’t know what was best. What did they know?

Family. Co-workers. Neighbours. Superiors. Icons. So many of them, dead. He had survived. He had lived through the apocalypse.

And what do I have left to show for it?

Nothing. Just scars and emptiness.

The first few days Robin remains distant, and mostly mute. He can tell she still hears his disapproval in her mind, trying to stop her. She was never meant to be this stubborn.

I was always meant to be the one to stand between her and danger. I promised I would.

After half a week or so, her treatment becomes a bit warmer. If only because he was immensely bored of being inside, he humors her when she suggests she take a walk. Good for the body and spirit, she said.

“Is that what that doctor told you?” The accusation flew almost thoughtlessly, remembering the man who cleaned and changed his bandages as Robin’s “friends” gathered in her home, hoping beyond hope that she hadn’t been stranded forever in the moon, or worse, lost in the void of space.

She doesn’t answer. She just offers to help him.

“I can handle myself just fine.” Pushing back his arm. He wasn’t weak, not too weak to do this.

Robin tries to hide her growing dejection, as Elro leaves her home since he was brought in.

I suppose I shouldn’t be so sour. We are home, after all. It’s still Blackrock, and full of trees, and we’re safe now… the adventure is over.

But as they traverse the familiar paths, Elro can’t avoid but contort his face and expressions, as memories of outings with loved ones resurface and litter the pathways. The bench where they shared many kisses at dawn. The bushes where they played hide and seek with-

“Stop, I can’t-” The words escape Elro before he can prevent Robin from hearing them. Naturally, she turns around to face him with an expression caught between confusion and concern. She’s shocked to see an actual trace of emotion on Elro’s face for once. She immediately steps closer to him, and he instinctively steps back.

“No, you- Please, Robin, can we not-” Elro stutters, no hint of frustration or annoyance in his voice. He recalls the smile that he enjoyed so many times before and after sleep, the cheerful voice that woke him in the morning, wondering what would they do together, dad…

Elro’s weak give way, and he’s forced to kneel, and in front of her favorite patch of flowers, no less. He’s used to burying his grief, and emotions - he had to, he had a job to focus on, a home to provide for, a sister to shield from the horrors out there…

But none of those things exist anymore.

Robin knelt beside Elro, making sure not to get so close. He was never very affectionate, and she doubted that would change right now. But then again, she’d never seen him quite like this… or enjoying an intimate emotional moment with his beloved. So she stayed there, on the soft grass, as Elro maintained his composure, but still the slight shaking in his voice betrayed his true feelings.

“You need time to mourn, and grieve.” Teegan would say that so many times. No, he’d counter, he had better things to do with his time than to mope, and get nothing important done. So he’s stuff down whatever he felt as best as he could, and kept soldering on.

But there was nothing else now. No other responsibilities, no distractions, no assignments… nothing else to face but the growing pain within. There was no escaping it down; the dust had settled, the battle was over, there was nothing more to fight. No more running away from the losses. After the war is finished, you must clear the fields of the ones you’ve lost, and put them where they need to go, clear the earth, and bury the hearts, so that it may start anew…

Elro took quiet breaths, and sheepishly sat on the ground, staring at the delightful red flowers that he’d sneakily take a few off, and take home to surprise her with. A short detour before coming home, to make his appearances all the sweeter and more welcome.

“Robin, I know I told you to stay, many times, but please - this time, can you please stay with me?” Pleading was not something he wanted to do, it was often his last resort when he couldn’t think of anything else.

I’m not hollow. I’m bursting with agony and I can’t handle trying to stuff all of it down and keep it sealed.

To his relief, Robin just nodded, and sat beside him, looking at the same flowers. They were quite pretty flowers… though they reminded her of someone who had to be sacrificed. She wish she didn’t have to, but… she didn’t know what else she could do.

Both of them stared ahead, without saying a word, each contemplating on the people they had lost along the way. Elro realised that the gardens looked different now. There were so many new trees growing, healthy and bright.

Why couldn’t they be here to see this?

He hugged his knees with his arm, and let himself be free to speak what had been confined inside.

“...I miss them. I miss them so much.” Elro spoke. Robin turned slightly in his direction, but said nothing. She didn’t want to interrupt. Elro had barely spoken of dad at all after he died, insisting on being protective and strong for her. But that had never been what she needed from him; she needed someone to sit beside her when things were painful, and to bolster her spirits when action was necessary. Not to stand in the way, as if he was meant to be some sacrifice. So if he was to finally level with her… she’d let him do it, however he could manage to get it out.

“I wanted to come home so much because I… I just wanted to make sure that they could be at peace.” He didn’t quaver anymore, but Robin knew that his gaze and tone meant that he was truly vulnerable at this point. “I… I had been meaning to come back… and mark a small plot of land for both of them. I kept some of their things at work… at one point I thought I could sneak into my old office… grab their stuff… bring it back home…”

He took a deep breath, and clenched his fist. It was very difficult for him… he had trained himself to be stoic, but now he had to unlearn his own instincts. “I needed to come home, because it hurt too much. One day you think you’re fine, the next you’ve lost everything. I didn’t care for One Concern, or Mother, or any of that bullshit - I just wanted to be with my family again. Any way I could. Even if I just stood upon what was left of my home - it was something, anything.”

“When they died, as far as I was concerned, the world had already ended. Nothing else mattered to me.” The wind gently rustled his hair, and Robin’s, who at this point was just listening intently, and in some way, glad that he could finally empathise with her. She thought she had lost someone forever to Penance, as well. She lucked out, in the end, but the fear and panic were no less real, or fleeting.

“I couldn’t even bear to think of risking your life, Robin. You’re all I have left. I was so tired of fighting One Concern, tired of having to puff up in front of Agents, tired of having to listen to another one of Mother’s speeches, tired of just… everything. Life’s been real hard to keep ahold of since, well… Agent Grey.” He felt guilty and proud at the same time. A horrible act, but perhaps… a necessary evil, he thought, if it served to take down the facade of power cast upon the world.

“In the end, I think… I couldn’t look past the grief, because I never dealt with it. I was too busy telling myself that when I was done, when I was finished, only then would I take the time. But now it’s here, and… I’ve made so many fucking stupid mistakes, for Tri’s sake-” He said, bringing his hand to his face, his breaths quickening, his pulse racing-

No tears. That’s what you taught yourself.

His eyes remained dry, but letting out a breath, he was shaking slightly. He had been such an idiot, thinking so much about the way he wanted it all to work out...

But… Sunflower’s here, still alive, still able to smile. And the roses… they’re still blooming. Still pretty. Still loving. Everything collapsed… but that too, shall pass. And here, now… I still have all this.

“Sunflower…” Soft, brotherly, caring. Robin scooted closer, waiting for him.

“I’m sorry, Sunflower. I’m sorry… that I failed you when you needed me. That I’m still carrying all this weight around I should’ve let go so long ago.” Staring at the ground, the shame of long overdue reconciliations bubbling up. “I’m so broken, and I need to heal so much.”

“I know I can’t make you stay - you’ve shown me that you’re own woman now. But… perhaps you could help me get back on my feet? For a little while at least?”

Robin had no words with which to respond. Instead, she answered the best way she knew how: Wrapping her arms around him, and letting him know that she wouldn’t abandon him. If someone could use her help, then she’d so her best.

“Thanks…” He said, feeling a little awkward from the affectionate gesture, but finally, at long last, feeling something warm inside for a long time.

The rose was bright, and blooming. Giving him hope that someday, he too, would find new roots to grow from.

[jjr1971]

Can I just express how much I freaking LOVE this anime?  Recovery of an MMO Junkie  (Japanese: ネト充のススメ Hepburn: Netojū no Susume, subtitled "Recommendation of the Wonderful Virtual Life") with its unlikely protagonist, Moriko Morioka; an unmarried single woman in her 30s who bails from the high stress corporate life of modern Japan and becomes a NEET (Not Engaged in Education or Training) and borderline hikikomori.  She does go out, but only reluctantly; and mostly just to the corner store and back (where, ironically, her guild master works as the check out clerk; he tries to make small-talk with her about MMOs, with limited success). She loses herself in the world of online MMOs where she enjoys the (virtual) company of like-minded people and doesn’t have to worry about the high stress corporate life.  Online she hides her real identity by assuming a male persona.  She runs into a very sweet gaming partner who plays as female but unbeknownst to her is a young I.T. professional salaryman a couple of years her junior.  She develops real and lasting friendships online through the MMO world.  Conflict arises when these relationships eventually spill over into everyday life offline. Self-deprecating to a fault, Yuta Sakurai gently tries to call Mori Mori out on always beating herself up and tries to point out her good qualities that she's blinded herself to...not only does she have crippling social anxiety but it was even more heartbreaking when she divulged how much internalized shame & guilt she carries around for being a NEET unable to live the corporate life....you just want to hug her and whisper in her ear: "You have a psychological disability...there's nothing for you to be ashamed of..."   Moriko Morioka is just so REAL and very well written as a character.  She voices the very real anxiety of body image issues many women struggle with their whole lives.  She is also an unlikely protagonist insofar as how Japanese society as a whole tends to view unmarried women in their 30s....as somehow dysfunctional, anti-social, “past their prime”, etc.  Even when she realizes Sakurai is sincere in his affection for her, she worries about the stigma that might attach to him for dating an older woman.  As someone who has successfully dated women older than myself, I can identify with Sakurai and his motivations.  There’s something refreshing about dating a mature woman versus someone younger than yourself...I dated someone who was 42 when I was 36, but she still looked youthful and I’d like to believe dating me made her feel young and feel better about herself.  We really clicked and if not for my misguided professional ambitions that geographically forced us to part ways, I might well have made this woman my second wife, despite the age difference.  Of course, I also raised eyebrows when I married my first wife, who was 10 years my junior (I was 30, she 20---I look younger than my chronological age; my wife later confessed she thought I was only 26 at most).  As long as only consenting adults are involved and there’s no power imbalance, judgmental ageism on the part of everyone else towards those dating outside the mythical Goldilocks Zone of age difference kinda sucks.  I hate how much Moriko is made to suffer and feel guilty because of being in her 30s and unmarried, as if she doesn’t deserve Yuta Sakurai’s love and affection somehow.  Yuta Sakurai will need deep reserves of patience and perseverance to get Mori Mori to accept that she is lovable and worthy of love, that he loves her unreservedly and his desire is genuine.  She’s hurt, broken, and sensitive...and like Sakurai, I just want her to be happy.  And I have to give out major props to her voice actress in the English dub, Terri Doty and also to Josh Grelle who plays her potential love interest Yuta Sakurai.  Honorable mention also to Ian Sinclair voicing  Homare Koiwai, who is Sakurai’s co-worker, faux romantic rival and secret “wing-man”/cupid/match-maker.  He flirts with Mori Mori to prompt Sakurai to take more action than simply wistfully admiring Mori Mori from afar.  I gushed to Terri on Twitter about her amazing performance in this show and she sent back a GIF of the Disney Dwarf Bashful from Snow White to express her thanks. This is a really, really sweet romantic comedy and one of my stand out favorites of the season.  Mori Mori’s crushing self-doubt and self-loathing feel all too familiar to yours truly.  Moriko has extreme social anxiety while I have Asperger’s but out in the real world these struggles have a lot in common with each other.  Moreover, Sakurai’s crushing lack of self-confidence, his own social awkwardness around Moriko....as well as both of them having difficulty believing and accepting the affection and desire of the other....all feel very familiar and very real and relatable.  10 Episodes + 1 OVA; available on FUNimation with English dub and on Crunchyroll in the original Japanese with subtitles.

[halekingsourwolf]

Oh man, yes! Just this morning I thought, that Derek'd easily make the top 3 of the smartest people in TW. And that's just because there's also Stiles and Lydia to consider! I love fic where people give credit to Derek being fucking smart!

It’s seriously one of my favorite things

Derek is so incredibly intelligent, not to mention well read, well informed, and generally just good at piecing things together and pulling out the right info in a pinch. And I think that was dulled out to an extent at the start of the series because of everything he’d gone through. By self-doubt –– having been so wrong about Kate crippled Derek in ways he’s still learning to recover from, and I’m sure stupid must have run through his head a million times over the years, made him question himself, second-guess his own knowledge and intelligence (even though trusting Kate had nothing to do with intelligence; Derek’s the type of person, under everything, to believe in the good in people. Life and trauma have worked to crush that but we see it shine through when he trusts Peter in s1, idealizes/forgives Scott's flaws throughout the series... hell, forgives the twins despite everything... but I’m getting off-track) . And by trauma –– PTSD pushing him to act act act instead of stopping to plan or think... and even then, in the early seasons Derek is absolutely never stupid. He might make poor decisions sometimes because he’s scrambling and feeling lost, but he is always smart, always there with knowledge, lore, and reasoning.

And I love it when people recognize that.

Characters looking at Derek, writing him off as “muscles and leather, classic tough guy,” and then Derek just blowing them away with casual knowledge, multilingual skills, or logic.

(And Stiles just standing off at the side, smiling smugly because he’d known exactly what was coming.)

[chilly-territory]

Everyone is talking about it, and I want to talk about it a little too even if I have yet to see the movie for myself.

Well, I'm in equal parts excited and terrified. The excitement part should be pretty self-explanatory, the long-awaited meeting with the familiar cast, more Loki (you can never have enough Loki), Cate Blanchett's Hela looking super awesome and promising to become one of the best MCU villains ever. But I figure the apprehension, unease and doubts part should be elaborated on. Under the read more because it's hella long. Oh, and beware some spoilers from the previous Thor movies.

Let's start with a little bit on how I even got into Thor. I don't read comics (only manga, duh), and usually, I'd rather watch a thriller or a mystery than a super hero flick if I had a choice, so I didn't watch either of the previous installments in the theaters, I watched them much later instead. You see, Christopher Eccleston happens to be one of my favorite actors, so once upon a time, when checking what else I had yet to watch with him, I came across Thor The Dark World. Which is essentially Thor 2. Obviously, you shouldn't watch a sequel without watching its prequel first, so, to be up to speed for Eccleston in Thor 2, I sat down to watch Thor first. And like I had expected, it was nothing special. Not bad, mind you  - a nice cast, nice acting, nice effects, everything you'd expect of a pretty high budget flick - but just nothing special. Until... Until Loki's drama came along. Hiddleston's expressiveness amazingly combined with subtlety made me sit up and open my eyes wide to watch carefully what was going on with Loki. And boy, was it worth it. That storyline easily eclipsed everything else the plot had to offer. I barely remembered what happened on the Earth with Jane Foster, the S.H.I.E.L.D and mortal Thor, but I vividly remembered every moment of very real distress, confusion and hurt on Loki's face.

Needless to say, when I finally got around to watching Thor The Dark World, I looked forward to Hiddleston's performance as much as I did to Eccleston's. Only, sadly, Eccleston's talents got buried under tons of makeup and prosthetics. No one could have done a better job under those crippling restrictions, but the resulting lack of impact is a fact. Loki, on the other hand, was splendid, everything I had hoped and more. The only wish going unfulfilled was that there was not enough of him, because you always end up wanting more of him. And yeah, the story totally took a backseat to just him being distraught or conflicted or wise-ass or crafty. In fact, when he "died" in Thor's arms, I just stopped the video, not caring about what would happen to Jane and the Nine Realms at the hands of Malekith anymore. It was only after I had searched the internet to find out - to my immense relief - that Loki was alive and kicking and had even usurped the throne of Asgard that I went back and finished the movie. Conclusion? I came for Eccleston and stayed for Hiddleston, and it's Loki I'm looking forward to seeing the most in the Ragnarok movie.

So back to why I fear to get my hopes up. While I'm trying to stay away from the more detailed spoilers (not that there’s many atm), I've been actively keeping track of the more general, broad ones. So it goes without saying that I know that the mood of this movie is, uh, very different. Like, you can't get any more different from the previous installments than that. And this is where the huge chunk of my apprehension stems from. The thing is, I know for sure, especially now, after the world premiere last night and rave reviews praising comedy in this movie, that Thor Ragnarok is going to be one wild and side-splittingly funny ride. I know I will laugh, and I will enjoy it like I would a good comedy. But the thing is, the thing is, despite Thor and Thor The Dark World’s flaws, I loved the mythic tone of the previous installments, it suited my tastes and my ideas of what a film utilizing mythos and legends should be. But this? This looks like an unhinged space adventure comedy that has very little to do with the characters that were introduced in the previous Thor movies, nevermind that the Thor Ragnarok stars wear the same faces as them. This is what my fear is.

Turning legends into a joke can work amazingly well, God knows my most favorite comedy films of all time, History of the World Part I and Robin Hood: Men in Tights by Mel Brooks, do just that. But it only works when your premise is comedic from the start, when you treat everything, every tragedy, every catastrophe, every drama as comedic from the get-go. Which Thor obviously didn't in the previous installments, the Asgardian royal family drama, for one, was portrayed as very real and very heartbreaking with no room for laughs about it (and seriously, have you ever felt like laughing about something like that?).

But this third movie suddenly apparently laughs it all off, just like that. There's no golden mean, no middle ground, we seem to have gone from one extreme to the other, a wild comedy sometimes slipping into a full-blown parody in this case, to the point where all the vital emotional baggage you can't really up and dispense with, all the character defining drama you shouldn't really joke about is actually turned into a joke. And I... I can't say I'm happy at the prospect.

For one, bringing the Hulk in for the ride is... questionable, if you ask me. A little bit of him is fine, but it's apparently not quite "a little bit"? He seems to take the central role, from what those who already saw the movie shared? Is it really alright? Isn't this supposed to be a Thor movie, not a Hulk one, or even an Avengers one?

I don't know, I'm confused as to what I should think. One particular thought that comes to mind though - and it's not a pretty one - has to do with what I've heard about how guys at Marvel didn't expect and were dismayed at Loki's overwhelming popularity, especially compared to the titular character of Thor, and have been not so subtly trying to chip away at it and not, god forbid, boost it further. If it’s true, then they've finally succeeded in Ragnarok, I guess? By giving a character like Hulk who's not even from the Thor franchise the best character arc (according to the reviews), pivotal fights and lots of screen time, thus shaving it off the other characters', and doing everything in their power to give the characters other than Loki all the best one-liners and wise-cracks and characterization so that Loki, even backed up by Hiddleston's tremendous acting talents, won't have a chance to do his sneaky Loki thing yet again and steal every scene he's in like he did in all the 3 movies he's been in until now. So congratulations are in order to the guys at Marvel, I guess? Like, you've succeeded in undermining Loki enough that the critics don't single him out anymore, they don't even mention him, and his fans won't have the ground to beg you on their knees anymore for Loki's own movie, right? *sigh*

Another thing that has me on the fence is some costume decisions and makeovers. Now, some costumes are great, like Hela's, and they enhance the character in all the right ways, but others, on the other hand...? Tastes differ, sure, but I still like the elaborate, often elegant, sometimes pompous, depending on the character, designs from the previous movies much better than these, more... space-y ones? The old ones added something to the characters, unlike most of what I see so far in Ragnarok. Oh, and long-haired blondie Thor is the only true Thor for me, probably because he looks the part of the myth like that, he has you believe he just might be that legend, as opposed to the ordinary guy you'd meet just about everywhere on streets of any city and that you'd rather see in an action movie alongside, I don't know, the Rock? Yeah, tastes differ, I know.

Well, and the last but not least from what I want to say a few words about - Hela. The first female MCU villain looks awesome, as I've already mentioned, and promises to look awesomer still in action. I've no doubt I'll enjoy watching her tastefully curbstomp whoever tires to oppose her. Still, my main question is if there will be any sort of connection between her and Loki, seeing that she wears green, Loki's trademark color. It can't be not intentional, right? I've done my research about what Hela is to Loki both in Norse mythos and in the comics, and... I don't like either option. So I'm hoping that for the MCU, there's either no connection at all between them or Hela is Loki's mom - just not his daughter please. Anything but that. I probably prefer the latter, him having the Goddess of Death for the mother, because that way Loki's torturous - but oh so delicious and interesting to watch - existential crisis about himself and his place in the world can be brought back.

I should probably note once more that this is my preliminary impression. I'm holding off on the final verdict until I actually see the movie (it's a long wait till November 3), but if it is what it seems so far, then I know I will be disappointed. Disappointment through tears of laughter must be one hell of a sight, but that's what it will be for me in that case, for my hopes for a balance between seriousness, solemn epicness of a legend with modern humor will be dashed. Is balance too much to ask for, period?

As a conclusion, I have this feeling that I'll like Thor Ragnarok as a standalone project, a witty parody of its own universe, but not so much when it's put into perspective against its universe and the two previous installments.

[webcricket]

The Lies We Tell Ourselves

Characters: CastielXReader ft. Sam Winchester

Word Count: 1503

A/N: Drabble request by @charlotteofcamelot – “Could I maybe request a super short drabble of Cas interacting – and I don’t mean sexually – with an overweight character that has body image issues, please?” Reader has serious self-doubts about their body. Enter Castiel stage left with the fluff. I have a theory that’s why he wears the trench coat all the time – extra pockets to carry more fluff. (P.S. You specified “super short” length, but my muse is not so great at following instructions. I had to give up editing it because more words kept getting added. Oops!)

This is pointless! I have nothing to wear! Your frustration grew more and more unbearable with each article of clothing hastily pulled from the closet and tugged over your round shoulders or yanked up too generous thighs and ultimately yielding the same unsatisfactory reflection in the mirror. Ten minutes. We’re leaving in ten minutes. You’d have settled for looking just okay at this point. You weren’t out to win any beauty pageants tonight. Far from it – only going out for cheap drinks and live music in a hole-in-the-wall bar with shitty lighting. But nothing fit right. Nothing made you feel good enough to go out with the Winchester brothers. Not with Dean and his gorgeous green eyes and charismatic personality and boy-next-door bod who managed to make flannel and layers simultaneously approachable and sexy. And certainly not with Sam and his devastating combination of a swoon-worthy sculpted muscular build and bottomless intellect for deep conversation – not to mention better hair than you on your best days. Ten minutes, ten hours, it doesn’t matter. I look terrible! Worked into a tizzy, you chucked your favorite oversized sweater at the mirror, knocking it from the dresser in a cacophony of shattered glass, and flopped defeated onto your bed. I’ll just stay in tonight. It’s not worth it.

“Y/N,” a sharp knock echoed on your door, Sam’s warm voice sounding from the other side, “you alright? I heard a noise.”

“Dropped something is all!” you half-shouted, scrambling to your feet. Making your way to the door, careful to avoid the glinting shards of reflective glass littering the floor, you quickly threw on a robe and cracked the door ever so slightly to assure Sam you were fine.

“You’re not coming out with us?” he inquired, astutely noting your casual state of undress.

“I’m actually not feeling well,” you lied, the well-worn excuse spilling from your pouting lips without a second thought, “you guys have a good time though.” Lying was easier than admitting the truth – you hated the way your clothes looked because no matter how flattering they might be to your figure, none of them could hide the fact that in your mind you were overweight. You knew every lump and bump and rolling imperfection hidden beneath the thin fabric, and nights like this the knowledge was so overwhelming it paralyzed your ability to participate in life.

“You gonna be okay?” he asked quietly, brow knitting in worry. “You need anything? I could stay back, order some pizza or something. That new series we wanted to watch is up on Netflix.”

Despite the genuine concern in his timbre, you were so far into the pit of self-disillusionment that you instantly rejected his offer of company, imagining he sounded wholly unconvinced of your feigned malady. He feels sorry for me, dammit. Sympathy offer to hang out, wonderful. “Nah, don’t let me hold you back. Got another bad headache. Already took Aspirin, just gonna sleep it off,” you winced and rubbed your temple for effect. You hated yourself even more for being dishonest with a friend.

“Feel better then,” Sam frowned, politely nodding goodnight, lanky legs swiftly carrying him down the hall to disappear around the corner.

And you did feel better – the receding thud of footsteps unburdening you of social commitment, freeing you to wallow in your insecurity without an audience for the night…or so you thought.

Comfy pajamas donned, freshly popped bowl of popcorn in hand, bunker to yourself, you made your way from the kitchen to your bedroom, ready to snuggle under the covers and get lost in a favorite movie – to be swept up in another universe, far away from the body image issues that plagued you. Rounding the hall corner, you stopped up short at the threshold of your door, unexpectedly catching sight of a familiar shock of tousled dark hair atop a tan trench coat.

Castiel stood in the middle of your room, blue eyes concentrating with indiscernible intent upon the various piles of discarded clothing scattered across the floor and dresser you had yet to remand to the closet. He held aloft a broken sliver of the mirror you must have overlooked when sweeping up, turning the shining piece over and over gingerly in his long fingers. The near inaudible shuffle of your socked feet drew his attention, striking blue eyes resolving their focus upon you as he spoke, “Y/N, Sam said you were unwell. I came to see if I could be of assistance.” Gesturing wide at the tornadic mess of clothing, head inclining askance, he questioned, “What happened in here? Are you okay?”

Your eyes stung with the pressing threat of tears. Telling a little white lie to Sam to persuade him to leave you alone was one thing – lying to the angel wasn’t an option. He would see through your deception, however innocent, immediately. And that would mean more questions. “I’m fine, it’s nothing. My usual clumsiness. You know me,” you tried to impart a chipper quality to your voice, avoiding directly meeting his inquiring gaze, brushing past him toward the safety of your bed.

He did know you, and he knew you were anything but clumsy. By virtue of the multitude of experiences weathered during his friendship with you and the Winchesters, he also knew humans could hurt in ways not obvious on the surface, and that they didn’t always know how to ask for help. Unconvinced by your explanation, insistent on providing whatever aid he was able, he gently caught your arm as you flew past, “Y/N, you know I’m always here if you need to talk.”

“I know,” you sniffled, trying to shake free of his light grasp. You couldn’t talk to him, not about this. The way you saw yourself, all your flaws bursting at the proverbial seams, wasn’t something he could fix with the tingling caress of his grace like some bloody wound or fractured bone. No, this literal weight, this encumbrance upon your very being, was something you condemned yourself to suffer alone. You wouldn’t understand. The thought screamed to be liberated as you fought to suppress it. How could you? Look at you, the very definition of angelic.

He released you, features fretfully falling as he observed you sink into the bed.

You felt his lingering gaze, endeavoring to ignore his continued presence as you fluffed the pillows behind your back and idly arranged the comforter over your legs.

He remained standing there in the middle of the chaos, awkwardly silent, expressly because you hadn’t outright refused his offer to talk. He would stand there patiently until the end of time if that’s how long it took you to either share what troubled you or ask him to leave.

“Cas?” you finally submitted to the quiet persistence of his demeanor, peering up to find his blue eyes fixed, gentle and undemanding, upon your countenance.

He listened, waiting for you to summon the fortitude to speak he knew you possessed.

“Do you ever hate yourself?” you unceremoniously spit out the crux of your problem, however ineloquent in its presentation. You searched his face for any judgement, discovering instead a sad shared empathy gloomily clouding the edges of his shining eyes.

Breaking off his steady gaze, he walked to the edge of your bed, motioning to the open space at your side, “May I?”

You nodded ascent, scooting over a bit further and smoothing the comforter so he could sit.

“Hate is a strong word,” he reclined against the headboard beside you, still not looking at you, admitting, “but I do frequently doubt my own worth.”

“You do?” you couldn’t mask your shock, “But why? You’re practically perfect – self-less, kind, intelligent, brave…handsome.” You blushed at acknowledging the last part aloud.

“That’s nice of you to say, but in truth I am broken, burdened by failure, perpetually disappointing those I love while trying to do the right thing, and trapped between Heaven and Earth and not truly belonging anywhere,” he disparaged, pausing before going on to glance over at you, bearing intensely earnest, “I could ask you the same thing, Y/N. What do you possibly have to hate about yourself? You’re the most beautiful soul I’ve had the privilege to know in the entire span of my existence.”

“I-I am?” you stammered, wetness blearing your vision and brimming over to streak your cheeks.

He wrapped an arm firmly around your shoulders, drawing you to his chest in a tender hug, confirming, “You are. And more important than you seem to know.”

You let yourself relax into his embrace – daring to believe, if only for a little while, that he might be right. Maybe you were too hard on yourself.

And Castiel likewise surrendered to the moment – for if this human, flawless in his summation, and whom he cared for so profoundly experienced the same crippling pain of self-doubt he did, then perhaps there existed some small hope he wasn’t as damaged and alone in this world as he led himself to believe.

[inquisitorextraordinaire]

Rhell and Delmire

(Wow I almost have everyone. That’s wild.)

Full Name: Rhellvanna Nez Lior (Oooooooh we have a middle name?!?!)

Gender and Sexuality: Cis female, Pansexual/Demiromantic

Pronouns: She/her

Ethnicity/Species: Human, Hungarian/French

Birthplace and Birthdate: April 3rd, Thyferra

Guilty Pleasures: Chocolates, booze, cigarettes, sex, dancing, partying, sleeping, long baths, games, books, people brushing her hair, attention, being trusted, being told she matters, being told she’d be missed.

Phobias: Failure, the dark, ships, failure, being worth nothing, being forgotten, watching everyone suffer because of her, failure, not being strong enough, failure, failure, FAILURE.

What They Would Be Famous For: Famous for being the most infuriating galactic delegate ever? Being the biggest hot-head in the entire Polith system? Ah, probably being a double-crossing and ruthless revolutionary.

What They Would Get Arrested For: Theft, murder, anarchy, plotting, starting a revolution, treason, manipulation. Man, she could be thrown away for a lot of things.

OC You Ship Them With: Ahhhh shit I mean, Vinn, Cam, hhhhhhhhh Stix, don’t judge me.

OC Most Likely To Murder Them: Her father, Marvelle, Delmire, uh… Shit, Arley tried to murder her? Probably Caez, and Stix, too. Rhell has no doubt someone’s gonna back out and try to murder her eventually.

Favorite Movie/Book Genre: Fantasy, scifi. Anything where she can pretend life is better than where she is for a bit.

Least Favorite Movie/Book Cliche: The cliche where someone’s soulmate tries to kill themself after their partner dies.

Talents and/or Powers: EXTREMELY Force sensitive, proficient in most Force-rleated skills, handy with a blaster and a lightsaber, really impressive stealth abilities, Force manipulation, Force-shadow manipulation. Can also juggle.

Why Someone Might Love Them: Rhell is driven, and she knows what she wants. She’s shockingly selfless - and many would call that an extreme fault - and will step in the line of fire for anyone she loves. Rhell trusts people easily and knows when she’s wrong. She’s a perfectionist and despite appearing as demure and collected when working as a Governess/Delegate, she’s very light and funny everywhere else. Rhell is snarky and a spitfire person, and enjoys teasing others. She’s innovative and will push herself constantly to be stronger, and isn’t afraid of making hard decisions, even if her choices can make her unpopular with others.

Why Someone Might Hate Them: Rhell is bitter and she lets her emotions get the best of her. She pushes people away because she has always been told she’s a monster - that she’s a manipulator and no better than her father - and she oftentimes believes their words. She’s prone to being irrational and stepping on peoples’ toes, and she doesn’t always understand how her actions can really hurt others. Rhell is defensive and is a solitary person for the most part, but when she does let people in she can be extremely possessive without meaning to. She gets jealous easily and can let herself be blindsided by her own goals and not see the full picture.

How They Change: Rhell is and always has been an obedient person who looks for approval from others. Her biggest obstacle I feel is her getting past her own need to please people and doing things for herself for once. She feels guilty and selfish for needing others and for being a passionate person, and her learning that she isn’t a bad person for it is a really big step for her. She also learns that she doesn’t need to be solitary, that she has people who depend on her and trust her, and that she can depend on and trust them back. Rhell just… She learns that she isn’t alone, and she doesn’t need to be a martyr for her cause to succeed. She doesn’t really fear death, but her learning that she doesn’t need to die for her cause is another big step for her.

Why You Love Them: Rhell is my self-insert, and she’s my personality amplified 10,000 fold. She’s louder, harder, funnier, faster, and stronger, and I feel like in playing around with her I figure out more about who I am and why I can learn to respect and love myself. I adore Rhell, I feel like she’s a strong person and her end-persona is who I want to someday be.

Full Name: Delmire Dalit Tsva’Tlana

Gender and Sexuality: Cis Female, Pansexual/Demiromantic

Pronouns: She/her they/them

Ethnicity/Species: Toydarian/Human hybrid

Birthplace and Birthdate: October 31st, Toydaria

Guilty Pleasures: Fresh food, booze, hard drugs, speeder racing, holocron repairs, petty theft, anarchy, explosives, tech, medical supplies, sex, partying, clothes that don’t reek like death, not being hungry, being able to sleep, stable people.

Phobias: People dying, innocents dying, her loved ones dying, her being left behind, The Order, losing everything all over again, being forgotten, being replaced, being worth nothing, dying nameless, being a disappointment.

What They Would Be Famous For: Being a renowned anarchist, being the worlds worst Jedi ever. Probably best known for beating a Darth within an inch of his life with just a shock baton and a lot of pent-up anger.

What They Would Get Arrested For: Anarchist, thief, illegal informant, harbouring stolen slaves, B&E. you name it, Del has done it aside from murdering someone.

OC Most Likely To Murder Them: Ahahahahahahaahaha Rhell, Brya, Marvelle, Kii, Stix, Caez, basically anyone who wants a piece of her?

Favorite Movie/Book Genre: Mystery, action, and how-tos.

Least Favorite Movie/Book Cliche: When the bad guys win.

Talents and/or Powers: Del is an amazing Force-healer and is very adept at using the Force despite never having formal training. She’s astonishingly good with tech and making explosives, as well as being a really good fighter in hand-to-hand and melee combat. She’s also a very impressive pilot and an artist.

Why Someone Might Love Them: Del is insecure and constantly afraid, but she doesn’t let her fear stop her. She’s afraid of death, she’s afraid of losing everything that matters to her, but that crippling fear that keeps her up at night and keeps her from forming close bonds with people is also what keeps her fighting. Delmire is cunning and thinks well on her feet, and despite her fears and trepidations with people she’s painfully loyal to those she deems as friends and family.

Why Someone Might Hate Them: Del can be cold, to the point where she could freeze polar ice caps and send the earth spiralling into a new ice age. She’s also very stubborn and aggressive with others, which can be daunting. She’s direct and bitter and her own extremely suicidal tendencies can be rather difficult for people to handle. All in all, she’s very damaged mentally and doesn’t have good coping mechanisms, which makes her a difficult person to deal with.

How They Change: Del moves from an extremely self-preserving and solitary person who has extreme clinical depression, to someone who seems to have hope. Delmire is someone who needs to know what she wants for herself before she can start to feel better, and her self-actualization about what she wants for herself is a big turning point in who she is and how she sees the world. She also ends up gradually gaining a stronger familial support system, and that helps her.

Why You Love Them: Delmire is very immature, and she doesn’t hide it well. She’s pushy and bossy and likes things her way and gets mad when that isn’t the case. She’s a character that I share a lot of aspects of my personality with, and she kind of resembles the past me from back when I was a shitty punk. She lets how she feels guide her, and that can be a problem when she doesn’t know what she wants. And deep down, Delmire is also a very oddly passionate and loyal person, and likes to keep certain people close to her when she can.