#you ever see those posts of people who get high and have moral epiphanies like 'why are there homeless people'

[brionysea]

any time coriolanus snow does anything

[g-perla]

The ACOTAR Series is a Romantic/Gothic Horror Stage and Only Nesta Got the Memo

Not even SJM knows what’s going on.

Ok, this is going to seem off the rails but bear with me.

So I'm a big fan of Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë (top 5 books and all that jazz) and I was thinking about it because it deals with themes of the Other and the supernatural, Nature as Character, the overlap of the animalistic and human, blurring of established binaries...fun, Romantic shit like that. Interestingly, this overlaps with how SJM illustrates her world and characters a lot of the time, hence why I was considering it while working on my Nesta project. I’ve mentioned before that Nesta really gives me Byronic heroine vibes and that’s a character construct of precisely this literary tradition.

I started thinking about Heathcliff and Cathy and how they're ridiculously extra and just feel the most intense emotions towards each other but also towards literally everything (nothing half-assed ever, this is a Romantic novel after all). I then remembered how so many people ship them, but like in earnest, in a totally aspirational way. It's not a #cursed ship to them at all. It's...romantic to them not Romantic. I even read often that people quote it at their weddings, specifically the infamous "two souls" quote.

Then I had an epiphany. I was like "wait, what if SJM is one of those people?? What if she has the energy of a Cathy/Heathcliff earnest shipper and that's why all her ships are messy??" Because if that is the case, my friends, oh boy oh boy would it explain so much. I will post some sections from Wuthering Heights:

Doesn’t the acotar series seem like a 1/50 dilution of that energy?? And that is barely a taste of all the spiciness this book has to offer. To illustrate further: SJM gave us the F/eysand suicide pact and the near-death battlefield Nessian scene. One is certainly more outlandish than the other, but both are the result of intense emotions. To that Emily Brontë raises the following: Heathcliff asking the sexton to dig up Cathy’s grave to see what’s up because her ghost has been haunting him since he personally dug up her grave 18 years prior and she has been haunting him ever since. He later demands to be buried in the same exact grave when he dies so they can decompose together. They both married other people though which only adds to the mess. (I am not lying to you the Romantic tradition really gave us these gems lmao. As an aside, Mary Shelley was also a writer of the Romantic tradition and she confessed her love to husband Percy Bysshe Shelley on her mother’s grave. Her mother was liberal feminist icon Mary Wollstonecraft by the way which only makes this even more amazing. Additionally, biographers believe that the Shelleys also had sex there. Talk about Romantic 😉.)

Then I had ANOTHER thought! (Dangerous)

If we read the series from the point of view of just another YA high fantasy things might get a bit boring because the world-building is honestly lazy and the magic system is pretty soft, which isn’t a pre-requisite in high fantasy (The Lord of the Rings has a soft magic system) but it's not the norm and it doesn't pay off in this series. Not to mention that the plot is pretty lackluster and derivative. To add to that the romantic and sexual relationships are questionable in their healthiness and consequently are the source of much argument in the fandom. 

But, dear reader, if we think about the ACOTAR series as being a sort of thematic and ideological 21st century YA homage to the Romantic tradition of the 19th century (within which Gothic Horror also lives), things get REALLY, REALLY SPICY.

No longer do we just have a romance fantasy with messy, hyper-emotional, animalistic characters who constantly partake in morally grey situations rife with dubious dynamics. No longer does plot really matter. No longer do we require quasi-scientific descriptions of the world and the magical system. No! All that matters now are the characters and the mood. Now we have potential! Add a lot of Nature ambiance: expanses of dark woods, great mountains, the unknowable and sublime energy of the ocean, a violent rainstorm/hurricane/tsunami, an impending snowstorm whose intensity reflects the growing emotional intensity of the characters as the story goes along (I’m looking at you impending snowstorm in acofas that curiously matches the growing complexity of Nesta’s emotional state). Blur the lines between any imaginable category: life and death, human and animal, known and unknown, Self and Other, beautiful and monstrous, good and evil, masculine and feminine, the list goes on. Most importantly make your readers uncomfortable by frustrating their desires to sort things into easy binary categories and don’t apologise for making them question their assumptions about the world, morality, gender, and any other kind of previously constructed Order. 

Basically write the story with Dionysus-in-a-Greek-tragedy energy and bring to us mere mortals artful Chaos.

Once that is done we can have a literal Romantic/Gothic Horror story.  The Acotar series could have been this unapologetically, with the added element of being told through the eyes of the "Cathy" character instead of through the lens of a third person getting second-hand accounts about what went on. This whole series is honestly enough of a chaotic mess of Byronic-like heroes and heroines and cursed familial relationships that it could have been that. That alone is peak entertainment. The problem, however, and the main reason why I can’t really say that this series truly delivered this wackiness is that SJM committed the act of not fully committing to the bit (very un-Romantic of her, I know). Now, I am not saying that SJM actually intended this. I’m just saying it really could have accidentally been this genius with some tweaks. Unfortunately, she made the crucial mistake of trying to justify too much, trying to make things too neat, too tidy, too sensical (in other words: the reason we really can’t have nice things). 

I could end this here, lamenting the potential of what SJM had set-up for us were it not for one element, one gift:

Nesta 

OHOHOHO DO THINGS GET GOOD HERE SO BUCKLE UP

Most of the characters refuse to fully commit to the bit in their desire to satisfy modern sensibilities, by which I of course mean they want ridiculous things like political power, to conquer lands, to be a Girl Boss, to get married, have kids, celebrate holidays, converse about mundane things, be relatable, etc. You know, pretty pedestrian stuff that only requires a bit of genetic luck, a sprinkle of energy, and the right circumstances within the world of Acotar. I would like to reiterate the beginning of this paragraph: most of the characters. 

Let’s say you’re stubborn and you decide to still read the series through the lens of the Romantic/Gothic tradition, what happens then? 

The most hilarious thing (for the Nesta stans that is. The antis would probably hate this)

Nesta, based on what we know about her through Feyre and the limited amount of other scenes, is the only character who really takes the performance seriously. She's the only one that SJM hasn't managed to confine through justification. Nesta just shows up and simply refuses to make sense (her POWER what a queen 👑). She is endlessly fascinating because she just exists in her world on her terms, established categories be damned, and in this manner she frustrates not only the sensibilities of the characters in the stories but those of the reader as well. This double duty is, I suggest, the result of the other characters not fully inhabiting the nebulous world of Romantic characters and thus being a little too plausible and understandable even if they are not justifiable. 

Ok, you may say, but I relate so much to Nesta. I do understand her. I don’t justify all of her actions, but I understand where she is coming from. (You’re not alone, friend. I like to think these things too. Alas, we are but plebs).

To that I reply; Nesta does things, certainly, and we can spend hours trying to explain through extrapolation, educated guesses, and personal experience why she did those things, but the fact is we really don't know why. We are never explicitly told. Our insight into who she is and her motivations comes predominantly from the understanding of her youngest sister and from our own interpretation of the actions she takes. I must make clear that our own interpretations are rooted in pre-established assumptions about what is sensical and orderly in our own world and in our own lives. We cannot interpret with the tools available to us that which may be, by definition, unfathomable. It is simply paradoxical. Nesta, as we currently know her, is a construct derived from a limited number of scenes and our interpretations and projections of these scenes. Even the scenes where we get third person narration don’t explicitly tell us her motivations and her logic. For all we know there really is no comprehensible reason for her actions and that is endlessly amusing to me in how utterly Romantic it is. Acosf may and likely will change this of course, but as it stands, Nesta is a whole Romantic character. Her divisiveness in fandom and in the narrative could be due in part to her refusal to fit the discrete categories available in her world and ours. 

Isn’t that wonderful?

To illustrate this a bit more I will share some details SJM gives us about her/ elements she sets up that fit in with the characteristics of the Romantic tradition (these are not exhaustive by any means):

The absolute pettiness (and extra-ness) of being so angry at her father’s inaction that she is willing to starve to death to see if he does something.

How in Acowae she is described as shifting between emotions as if she were changing clothes and feeling everything too strongly (probably to the point of destruction)

She is constantly being compared to animals, even when she is still human. Granted, SJM compares everyone to animals, but that strengthens the blurring of lines between usually discrete categories. It is still most powerful when used as a comparison when she is human because it dehumanises Nesta.

Often, SJM describes her characters as forces. Forces of nature, for example. Acofas is full of details like this in relation to Nesta. There is a storm brewing leading up to the solstice party and it is in full swing when she arrives at the townhouse. The language used there suggests that Nesta herself may be the storm (against the onslaught of Nesta). It really adds to the Maleficent energy tbh.

She is often associated with death post her transformation

She is Other even to Others. She was Made like Elain, Feyre, and Amren in a sense, but the process of her specific transformation differentiates her greatly from the others. As it is, she doesn’t fit in anywhere

Her intense attachment to her femininity and its expression are at odds with the ideas and assumptions about the performance of womanhood and a woman’s role in her world and even in ours. She is unapologetically feminine in her physical presentation, but her character, her thoughts, and possibly even desires transgress the unwritten rules of acceptable femininity (unfortunately there still are abject expressions of femininity in our ‘”progressive” mileux

She displays in many of her actions a disrespect towards authority and to the status quo. This is particularly notable when her intensely polarised sense of right and wrong is aggravated.

Her self-destructiveness. This is referred to most strongly in Acofas, but I would say she was remarkably blasé about self-preservation in Acowar as well

She is described as intelligent, cunning, ruthless, attractive, and prone to debilitating extremes of emotionality. All of these are characteristics of Byronic heroes, a subtype of the Romantic hero

Here are a bunch of quotes that touch on many of the elements that I have discussed above:

“I looked at my sister, really looked at her, at this woman who couldn’t stomach the sycophants who now surrounded her, who had never spent a day in the forest but had gone into wolf territory...Who had shrouded the loss of our Mother, then our downfall, because the anger had been a lifeline, the cruelty a release. But she had cared--beneath it she had cared, and perhaps loved more fiercely than I could comprehend, more deeply and loyally.” 

--Acotar, emphasis mine, note the strong emotions. This is a recurring element for Nesta.

“Cassian’s face went almost feral. A wolf who had been circling a doe...Only to find a mountain cat wearing its hide instead.” 

--Acomaf, animal comparison

“Nesta is different from most people,” I explained. “She comes across as rigid and vicious, but I think it’s a wall. A shield--like the ones Rhys has in his mind.” “Against what?” “Feeling. I think Nesta feels everything--sees too much; sees and feels it all. And she burns with it. Keeping that wall up helps from being overwhelmed, from caring too greatly.”

--Acomaf, emphasis mine

“I knew that she was different [...] Nesta was different [...] as if the Cauldron in making her...had been forced to give more than it wanted. As if Nesta had fought after she went under, and had decided that if she was to be dragged into hell, she was taking the Cauldron with her.”

--Acomaf, Nesta had her own plans for the Cauldron what a queen

“Something great and terrible.”

--Acowar, referring to her eyes. Oooh, spooky Nesta 👻

“The day she was changed, she...I felt something different with her [...] like looking at a house cat and suddenly finding a panther standing there instead.”

--Acowar, a two in one here: difference + animal comparison. Boy does SJM really go heavy when establishing Nesta as Other.

“‘Not in flesh, not in the thing that prowls beneath our skin and bones...’ Amren’s remarkable eyes narrowed. ‘But...I see the kernel, girl.’ Amren nodded, more to herself than anyone. ‘You did not fit--the mold that they shoved you into. The path you were born upon and forced to walk. You tried, and yet you did not, could not fit. And then the path changed.’ A little nod. ‘I know--what it is to be that way. I remember it, long ago as it was.’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’“

--Acowar, show don’t tell gets thrown out the window here, but it is useful for the present purposes

“What if I tell you that the rock and darkness and sea beyond whispered to me, Lord of Bloodshed? How they shuddered in fear, on that island across the sea. How they trembled when she emerged. She took something--something precious. She ripped it out with her teeth. What did you wake that day in Hybern, Prince of Bastards?

What came out was not what went in [...] How lovely she is, new as a fawn and yet ancient as the sea. How she calls to you. A queen as my sister once was. Terrible and proud; beautiful as a winter’s sunrise.”

--Acowar, who knew rocks, darkness, and the sea were such gossips, but look how many connections to nature! To be compared to the sea, a significant example of the sublime, is peak Romanticism. If any of you have read Moby Dick, think about what the ocean and the white whale might have represented there and how that might relate to Nesta.

“I think the power is death--death made flesh.”

--Acowar, Feyre referring to the possible nature of Nesta’s power. Alluding to her powers possibly being related to death is quite significant because that is something most of us cannot comprehend, nor can most of the characters. For Nesta, a “reborn” but very much living character to have death associated with her is a strong blurring of the lines. The case of her being labelled a witch is similarly significant as it solidifies the elements of the supernatural while simultaneously comparing her to pretty much the only exclusively female-coded monster in western pop culture. I will touch more on this when I do my study of Nesta through the framework of Barbara Creed’s Monstrous Feminine.

“I am not like the others.”

--Acowar, we love a self-aware queen.

“Nesta took in his broken body, the pain in Cassian’s eyes, and angled her head.

The movement was not human.

Not fae.

Purely animal.

Purely predator.”

--Acowar

There are a lot more details and quotes that support this interpretation, but I didn’t write them all down in my archived notes. This post is obscenely long, however, so even though there is more to be said, I’ll leave it for another day. If you made it this far you really are an MVP and probably love Nesta to a concerning degree like me. Please rest your eyes if you’re actually reading this 😂

I’d love to read about any other takes and thoughts that might have come to your minds after reading this monstrosity,

G

[wkngsnds]

Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope’s Peak High School
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Kuzuryu Fuyuhiko/Pekoyama Peko
Characters: Pekoyama Peko, Kuzuryu Fuyuhiko
Additional Tags: Super late valentine day fic, this was going to be so much darker than before with other characters, but I though focusing on Peko for this would have been better
Summary: Maybe coming to Hope’s Peak Academy was exactly what they needed to fix sixteen years of miscommunication and things left in silence


Here is a very very late Valentine’s Day fic that I meant to post way earlier, but school. Hopefully, White Day will be on time or not as late.

Peko had arrived from Baiso* twenty minutes ago, but had stared intensely at the items laid out before her for the last fifteen minutes. This particular convenience store had student discounts given its location to Hope’s Peak, thus out of her 2,000 yen monthly stipend* she managed to save 1000 yen. It was enough to cover “bodily maintenance”, and given that she always managed to save from the month prior any quick emergencies were covered for.

In front of her, there were two small bags of dairy-free chocolate melts: one brown and the other white. Next to those was an all inclusive kit filled with: a bunny patterned silicone mold, two filling pipers, and two decorating pipers. In reality, there were a variety of molds presented in the store— above all else, there were hearts to every degree that they all but exploded across the wall. Those were immediately out of the question, of course. Below those were adorable animal shaped ones: bunnies, kittens, puppies, and the like; unfortunately, she lost this battle of self-control and gave into the demon of impulse, thus purchasing the aforementioned bunny set. For a moment in the store, she wondered if getting the more sophisticated mold kit would have been better. IF (and that was an incredibly large if) he had accepted her chocolates, Peko did not want him to feel as though she were emasculating him.

Quite the opposite really. She wanted to give him something that she enjoyed making for him.

Up until now, she had simply given him giri choco* along side a small, simplistic ‘thank you note’; one time she ‘changed things up’ and wrote ‘thank you’ in calligraphy rather than using a 0.5mm pen. Devoid of all personal attachment, it was professional and straight to the point: a token of her appreciation for allowing her to stay by his side after all these years. She knows she was a cause of stress for him, and she reckons she’s partly to blame for his severe insecurities, but he hasn’t forsaken her yet, and to that she’s grateful. She’s grateful to him for a lot of things. That being said, with their time at Hope’s Peak, Pekoyama now found the gesture inaccurate— that is, saying ‘thank you’ was lacking; it did not entirely encompass what she wanted to express. She was not certain what it was that she did want to express, but she knew it was far more than ‘thank you’. It’s why she had met with Hajime Hinata, the ex reserve course student who transferred along side Lady Natsumi, in secret, to start brainstorming. Granted, the idea of psychoanalysis outside the field of torture was pointless to her; Peko thought there was not much of her to ‘analyze’ in the first place. Yes, it can be said that she ‘passed’ the psychological assessment the school administered (by law) for freshmen, but those were simple yes or no answers that anyone could fib. Which she did. However, now she wanted to be honest with him…and with herself.

That’s right. Pekoyama Peko the Tool was going to confess her desire to be equals with her young master.

Even now, with no turning back, she was consumed with second thoughts: the kind that reached deep into her abdomen, and twisted her intestines, but she could only squirm in response (she’s familiar with the action because she’s done it to other people). If she went through with this—no, when she went through with this their relationship would change regardless of his answer. Peko understands what he has told her for the last… since they could speak, so the probability of him rejecting the notion is unlikely. But it’s not a 100% acceptance, either. If on the off chance he says no, that he has an epiphany overnight, and recognizes his role in the family (and thus hers to him) he could very well kill her on the spot if he so pleases. If he rejects her request but does not kill her, then their relationship would continue to strain. He might grow paranoid of her new attitude, thinking she might launch an attack on him, so he would have to have her killed and replaced.

The notion was as ridiculous as it was impossible; not him killing her, mind you, but her betraying him.

The swordswoman poured another cup of ginger tea from her electric kettle. ‘A good kind of nervousness’, was how Hajime described it: the kind of excitement that could easily be confused for dread— a fighting spirit clashing with a ten foot concrete wall.

“You definitely don’t look like a pushover, Pekoyama, but you do keep to yourself, right? So then you’re not the type to ask for much, but because of that something like this is even more nerve wrecking for you.”

“I suppose that makes sense. However, this is something he’s wanted for a long time, and now that I recognize it as something…that I want too, I do not understand why I am so nervous.”

“It’s okay to feel that way, Pekoyama. Even if you’re ready for it, not knowing exactly how things will turn out makes anyone nervous. It’s okay to feel that way, you have every right to.”

But was it really okay to tap into her emotions? Emotions clouded judgements, made some hesitate, and others get killed. Of course, it would be a lie to say she felt nothing at all in the years, but now she actually has deal with her feelings instead of running from them at her convenience. You see, suppressing her feelings had became a such a messy crutch while growing up, and it was one she didn’t realize she’d been using until she began to properly think for herself during her time at the school. It rationalized the deep rooted loneliness— convinced herself that she would only ever be “the other” in the room. It justified her murders of men and women whom she had only been told deserved to die. It made the dimly lit cellar (the one with the cage, two chairs, and a medical cart) which was layers below the estate bearable. Sometimes, it yielded her jealousy (Envy? Both?) of the pretty convenience store clerk whose face did not scare others and whose eyes were not monstrous like her own.

Above all, she feels a visceral reaction to the thought of being anything but a tool. Though, it was more that possessing a will of her own greatly unnerved her. And how could it not? The idea that she could make decisions for herself, possess her own morals, express her own preferences, care about herself beyond…basic maintenance of her body was completely foreign to her. Now, to search for those jaded fragments of herself without anyone’s permission but her own made her head pound. Peko sighed. Perhaps she should just leave the chocolates with a quick note in his locker early in the morning. What if her face became too intense and she scared him, again? Like she always did when they were younger. There was also the option of running up to him, all but shoving the chocolates into his hands, and running off to the school’s dojo to distract herself with training.

But that was the way of a coward, was it not?

If the kendo athlete wanted to cheap out, she would have just bought a generic chocolate set from the store. No, almost every action of hers was carefully planned out— with the exception of the mold choice, of course. Peko needed to do this, not just for him, but for herself. It was a battle unlike any she had faced before: that is, the fight for her own humanity.

Inhale.

Exhale.

One thing at a time, just like Hajime told her. For now, she retrieved the remaining tools— filling a small pot with water to create a Bain Marie on the hot plate. Beginning with the brown chocolate, she opens the bag carefully so as to not make an entire mess. Given the size of the bag, she would not have needed all its contents; however, with all of Hajime’s help she felt inclined to make a small batch for him as well. Granted, they were not to be specially molded as his were, and she’d only give him the brown one, but he was the first person she could truly call a friend. That, Peko thought, most certainly warranted homemade chocolate. It was funny, she’d spent her whole life with him, but they never connected the same way her and Hajime did.

Yet, she does not find herself discouraged by this fact. In a small way, she did feel guilty: information that he always asked for was given so willfully to a stranger who was only just assigned his title a few months prior. But, after tomorrow, it did not have to be that way. Mind you, Peko was still navigating in the dark— no she could navigate in the dark without her glasses on. She was navigating a battlefield without her sword at her hand, humongous warriors clashed all around her, there was torrential downpour with horrendous winds, and she didn’t have her glasses on. Yes, that was a better analogy. Point is, she still had no idea how to manage human relationships beyond a superficial level; even with Hinata’s bond, things were completely different with him. The bodyguard knows him; not everything about him (she gave him his privacy when she could), but they were as close as two non related humans could be. It was a closeness different from his with Lady Natsumi, that much is obvious.

Peko ponders for a moment. Did everything have to be different with him? That was the whole point of everything she’s done up until now, wasn’t it? That she wanted things to be different between them, but only to the extent in which the walls between them would be torn down. Maybe, like in her fashion, she was overthinking things again: taking them to an extreme rather than taking a moment to breathe. She would have to check the school’s roster for an Ultimate Yoga Instructor. Then, with the idea of finding one’s inner peace through slow movements, it clicks.

Honesty.

She just has to start by being honest with him, little by little. Even if she did not want bother him with her feelings, keeping them to herself will, no doubt, continue to worsen his trust in her. She wouldn’t start confessing her life, but small, in the moment conversations she thinks she can handle. Maybe, it could encourage him to open up to her as well. Like her, he was blunt with his words, but hardly honest with himself. He could come to her, as a trusted comrade to discuss his problems or plans without telling her not to worry about it or that he could handle it on his own. Hell, they could just talk about anything. They could talk like regular people.

The chocolates were finished, by the way; the small boxes were separated by receiver, and ready to accept their respective sweets. She is sure to distinguish the two by grabbing a post it note, writing “Thank you for all your hard work” upon it, and sticking it onto Hinata’s box.

Fuyuhiko’s box didn’t need a note. Her words would have to be enough.

—

No amount of kendo tournaments, sessions with Hajime, nor appointed ‘jobs’ could have prepared Peko for the sheer terror she felt at the moment: sitting in front of the fountain, waiting for him. She first intertwined her hands to yield their incessant tapping from her knees, but her thumbs begin to fidget. Then, she decided to sit on them, but of course her legs began to bounce hard enough that the tap tap tap of her heels began to irritate herself. Finally, she stood up and began to circle the fountain with a controlled speed in hopes of calming her heart. What good would it do if she couldn’t even get her words out? It was a miracle the swordswoman managed to invite him here in the first place.

She took a deep breath, ‘Excuse me, Ku-Kuzuryu?’ They we’re still in class, so she had to whisper less Mioda overheard even though she was currently in conversation.

‘Huh? What’s up?’ He responds just as quietly, but he doesn’t turn all the way to face her. For that she’s grateful.

‘I…I need to speak with you. May we please meet at the fountain after school?’

‘O-Oh, sure. Everything good?’

‘Yes!’ She answered good quickly, ‘That is to say, there is nothing to be concerned about. Well, there is something, b-but it does not endanger your safety.’

‘…Okay? After school, fountain. Got it.’

In hindsight, she should have shut up after ‘yes’, but her nerves had been on edge since she woke up. Although no drama-like hijinxs occurred, Pekoyama hadn’t realized how intense her gaze was until Hajime pointed it out when she delivered his chocolates. She doubly thanked him for calling her out, least she scarred him off. After the Ultimate Counselor bid her good luck, Peko all but sped walked to the fountain, and even managed to leave class four minutes earlier.

It’s not until her fourth turn around the fountain that Pekoyama sees him through the gushing water. Maybe it was the angle of the sunset, but he looked particularly handsome in this light. Walking back to the bench with her bag, she quickly greets him as per usual.

“So, what’s up?”

It was now or never.

“Ha-Happy Valentines D-Day, Fuyu…hiko.” Having taken out the chocolates from her bag, she bows with her arms extended towards him.

“Did you just…?” For a moment, she begins to panic; she was still bowed, so she could not see the look of utter of shock on his face— not mortified or disgusted, like she thinks, just…surprised. Not knowing this, she tenses, but this time in fear of disrespecting him; he already had been at the estate, and she didn’t want to join the lot that did. Peko tried her hardest not grip the box too tightly in her hands, but her heart pounded in her throat while seconds felt like hours awaiting his response.

But then, her hands feel light as he takes the box from her. She straightens up immediately with an eagerness to see his reaction.

“D-Did you make these? Just for me?”

“Yes!” But that wasn’t entirely honest, “I did give chocolates to Hinata, but only with what I had left, a-as a thank you for being…a friend to me. But yes…I made them with you in mind.”

“It’s okay, Peko, you don’t have to explain yourself to me.” She watches the way his fingers linger over the box cover, “Can I…is it okay if I try one now?”

The setting sun reflects its red lights upon his cheeks, or so she assumes. Nevertheless she urges him to do so while letting him know they were dairy free, and so safe for him. He takes it upon himself to sit down when opening the box (his hands were shaking too), and she could only stand there gawking like an idiot until he tells her sit down as well. She doesn’t sit immediately next to him, but the gap is not as wide as it was months ago. In fact, the physical gap between them hadn’t been so wide for the past few weeks— however, whether that was intentional or not was an entirely different discussion.

“That’s right…” He says, smiling down at the chocolates, “You try to hide it, but you like cute things like this, don’t you?”

“That’s…”

His grin widens at her heated face, “Fluffy things, the color black, and cute crap are the stuff you like best, yeah? Hey! Don’t act so surprised; I know you more than you think I do.”

In the moment, Peko hadn’t known her heart could pound against her ribs without performing a highly intensive workout. She wasn’t one for many words, but even now it was particularly difficult to do so. Part of her wants to remain silent, watching him take his first bite in some irrational hope that he suddenly developed telepathy and thus could read her thoughts. That way, he could understand exactly what she wanted to say to him without her tongue twisting in some foolish manner. There would be no more miscommunication or ‘almost spoken things’ between.

But, nothing in life were that easy. So, she forces herself to speak,

“How….are they? Does it agree with your stomach?”

“Perfect.” Though, she does not know that even if they were horrible, he still would have eaten if only because she made. Unfortunately, he was always bad with words as she was.

“Really?” Her eyes lit up, “I am…glad you enjoy them.”

“Yeah, they are. I’m so used to you just leaving some store bought ones on my desk, so when I only saw Natsumi’s karinto I-I got a little worried you weren’t going to give me some this year.” He covers the box just as carefully as he opened it, “But then I realized it was unmanly and, frankly, shitty for me to just assume you’d give me something.”

“N-No no, it isn’t. It’s only logical to expect chocolates after years of receiving them. I simply wanted to make them this year.” She takes a deep breath this time, feeling a sense of chills drowning her, “However, the chocolates are not…the only reason I asked to meet with you.”

“O-Oh, yeah? Why, uh, why else did you want to see me?”

“I….please forgive me, but to say something like this…I do not know if my words will come out correctly.”

“T-There’s no way to know if you don’t say it.” Unbeknownst to her, his heart also felt like it would explode at the moment even when he tries to slouch to appear more casual. Yet, he also sits up to let her know he was most definitely listening to her, “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

“Right, well th-that is…” She places a hand on her chest, trying and hoping to calm her erratic beating, “I think,” She breathes again, “No, I have reached the conclusion, on my own, that I do not…” Remember to look at him, “I do not want to be your tool anymore.”

“…Peko?”

But she can’t handle the way he stares back at her, not with repugnance nor detestation, but completely flabbergasted. Truthfully, meeting the gaze of his widened golden eyes (the same eyes which pulled her through on so many occasions) is too much for her right now.

“Y-You needn’t worry, of course. I do not intend to cease my efforts in keeping you safe. Protecting you is something that is incredibly important to me, and it always will be!” It’s the only thing she can say confidently, “However, now it is because I…I care about you. Because I want to care about you.”

Surprisingly, the more she spoke the less dread she felt,

“I realize now that these feelings are not of obligation, but a result of my…h-human self. There are still things I do not know, things that I do not remember, and things I do not comprehend when it comes to being a person. To be honest, ‘being myself’ is an…overwhelming goal to achieve, and I do not really know where to begin. However, I do know that from today onwards I want stay by your side out of my own fee will. I want to see the same horizons you do, to fight along side you.” Finally, with furrowed brows, she looks at him, “I-Is that okay? Is…is it wrong?”

15 seconds….34 seconds…1 minute…

“How could that ever be wrong?” He finally responds to her, “I’ve told you time after time, but I guess I was too much of an impatient asshole, and just needed to let you figure it out for yourself. I’m sorry for that, Peko.”

“Does this mean…you’ll accept me as I am? To be along side you?”

Peko is caught off guard when he takes her closest to him into both of his: not squeezing, but holding it between his own. She’s sure he can feel her erratic pulse, the way he thumbed over her wrist as held her. She doesn’t pull away from him— she never wanted to, and now she doesn’t have to. At least, when they were like this.

“If that’s what you really want, then there’s no way I’d ever stop you.” He stops petting her hand for a moment, “But…you have to let me protect you too.”

Huh?

“I do not entirely understand.”

His grasp tightens and his gaze does not waver, “You said that you care about me, right? W-Well it’s the same for me, too, ya know? I don’t order you around, because I didn’t want you to think I only thought of you as a tool for me. I never did. I also didn’t want to put your life in danger even if the old man thinks otherwise. I know you’re strong, much stronger than me, and you’re perfectly capable of taking care yourself, but I…I still want to defend you. I know I have a ways to go myself, but I want to be a man that you can readily rely on, a confidant, your friend, and maybe e-even…” He trails off after that, the red on his cheeks deepening as he removed one hand to adjust his tie; it was a nervous tick of his she knew well.

Without realizing, she’s smiling gently at him. For once, Peko allows herself to be in the moment. She let’s herself be.

“Well then, I am in your care, Fuyuhiko.”

[mcveriicks]

have you seen [ MAVERICK ST. JAMES ] since the storm? some say they look like [ HERMAN TOMMERAAS ] but they’re [ TWENTY-TWO ]  & go by [ THE PARADOX ].  [ HE ] lived in halloway for [ THREE YEARS ] & they are originally from [ WASHINGTON, D.C. ]. before the town vanished they were studying [ PHILOSOPHY ] and lived at [ UNI BLVD ]. most people knew the [ CISMALE ] as [ +CLEVER ] but i’ve heard they can also be [ -APATHETIC ]. for some reason, they feel [ UNEASY ] about the town’s disappearance. ( riley, 20, she/her, est )

hello !!! my name is riley and i’m ????? so so extremely very much excited to get the ball rollin, down n dirty, into this rp !! i’m a sucker for angst and sadness, so … expect MUCH of that w me !! mav is a new muse of mine but i’m SUPER excited to get to dev him with all of you guys !! below the cut is a … long-ass intro post bc i have no chill !! if, per chance, you’d like to plot w me and my know-it-all, assholey but suprisingly soft child, please feel free to GIVE THIS POST A LIKE or to DM ME ( either tumblr or discord i check both, i promise i don’t bite ) !!!

tw: drugs.

* / BACKGROUND.

maverick hobbes st. james was born into a life filled to the absolute brim of expectation. his mother and father met at halloway’s law school, and both went on to become highly respectable lawyers who dealt with constitutional law in washington d.c.; they work highly demanding jobs, which often left maverick, who is an only child, alone at their impressively decorated family townhouse, staring at family photos and wondering how his definition of family had become so different to his friends’ growing up.

growing up in middle and high school, maverick assumed that getting good grades and excelling at school would make his parents proud, would get them to turn their attention to his successes –– but surprise, surprise, they didn’t. they’d pat him on the back as they headed out the door to tend to their daily schedules –– that is, if he was lucky enough to see them in the morning.

he studied. hard. trying to understand the ins and outs of what his parents did, trying to see if following in their footsteps by studying law would warrant a smile or beam of pride. it didn’t. but it still got him an acceptance to his parents’ alma mater, halloway university. he made friends quickly –– he always did. always the charismatic friend, he’s learned to rely more on his friends than his family in his life.

when maverick was a senior in high school, he finally reached an age to realize some of the shady deals his parents would make on the regular, the random bonuses his parents whispered about finally making sense to him. one case in particular had apparently caused one of his classmates’ parents to be publicly humiliated for a scandal and an incident that was apparently unrelated to their careers –– but ruined them in the process.

he felt guilt, himself, knowing that his parents could be making deals like that every day. it made him shake his head, made him cry into his pillow, made him absolutely disgusted to call people like his mother and father his own parents. he wrote so many fucking speeches that he’d recite to them once he got the chance, berating them for their practices and lack of morals in their workplace. but they never came home –– and hypocritical as he was, he still enjoyed the fruits of his parents’ work. they gave him unlimited checks with his name on them, as if it was some sort of sick version of love.

while maverick was fulfilling some of his general requirements, he fell in love with philosophy, with questioning life and ethical choices that mankind has made in the past, and would make in the future. he ended up pivoting his studies, moving from pre-law to philosophy at the end of his freshman year of his undergraduate studies.

and of course –– with this twist in the system, maverick is about to make this world his playground, living in his very own simulation of how a fresh new world reacts to infinite freedoms. he’s partially excited to see what will unfold, partially scared that things will fall to absolute shit ( ever the pessimist, maverick st. james ! ) because he has little faith that his company will collectively make the right decisions.

* / PERSONALITY.

maverick st. james is quite the paradox ( hence, the label ! ). he’s charismatic, funny, and has a witty sense of humor –– and is generally appreciated by his peers because he’s able to move conversation and discussion without making topics seem dry. and generally, he’s only like this in classes that he’s passionate about –– otherwise, you’d see him in the very back corner, doodling amongst his haphazardly written notes. what’s funny is he used to always be like this –– happy, smiley, obviously intelligent and driven. but it all sort of changed when he had this big epiphany that some people aren’t what they seem like on the outside ( re: his parents ).

he’s certainly a bit arrogant, given that he’s intelligent, innovative, and clever, and knows it –– however, even if he might not show it on the outside, he appreciates a good challenger. he thinks it keeps his wit sharp, and of course, his ego would never show it, but he does appreciate learning from people. after all, his passion in philosophy makes him certainly interested in how minds work.

at social events, you can probably see him flirting his ass off, but always having a good time, too. he’s definitely the type to sleep around, but he likes to pick at people’s brains, too. probably the most deep-ass pillow-talker halloway has ever seen. it probably borders on the line of being too romantic with flings –– the way he asks questions, but also borders on being annoying.

those who happen to get to know maverick outside of the surface-level stuff, outside the initial cockiness and flirtatious front he puts on will know that he’s actually quite thoughtful. his lonely childhood has made him extremely loyal to those who have shown him similar trust and friendship –– he would never turn his back on them. he asks probing questions, is a good listener –– perhaps because he’s interested in human decision making, but is also because he doesn’t quite know what it’s like to be loved unconditionally –– though he wants to. he’ll hold back hair and rub a friend’s back while they yak, walk his friends home, maybe throw a few punches or two –– but spicy comebacks are really more his speed.

deep down, what almost no one knows is that he’s really quite soft. he passes his curiosity off as wanting to understand people, when really it’s a mechanism for hoping someone asks him questions in return, to give him the time of day he wished his parents had given him. 

* / AESTHETICS.

coffee-stained mugs, walking with headphones in, untied shoelaces, black hoodies, a cheeky smirk, small books in his back pocket, writing in the margins, quoting old authors on a daily basis, incessant eye-rolling, pen ink stains, unmade bed, mismatched socks, floral ties, empty bottles of liquor, rose thorn pricks, old worn poetry books, polished dress shoes, calloused fingers, unlit cigarettes between teeth.

* / HEADCANONS.

funnily enough, maverick’s name means ‘independent, a noncomformist’, which is exactly the path that he has taken to stray away from his family’s expectations of practicing law, specifically constitutional law as a career. he’s like. nah. fuck that.

maverick has some form of synesthesia, which allows him to remember a lot more than the average person. he associates colors, smells, sounds, to words –– and allows him to efficiently study any subjects he doesn’t have immediate passion for.

in the privacy of his own bedroom, he sometimes writes poetry and sketches his thoughts and muses –– when he knows he’s in complete privacy. faces and features that appear in his sketchbooks are often those he’s thinking of often, those who intrigue him. he’s actually quite good a sketching, maybe not quite as good at writing poetry.

tw drugs. he more than dabbles in drug use, smoking marijuana maybe every other day, while partaking in harder drugs like cocaine and adderall and others probably once a week. he feels like he’s in control of his use, but it may start to get the best of him. end tw.

maverick is left-handed. he hates that he gets pen ink stains when he draws, writes poetry, takes notes. his left palm is probably perennially covered with ink.

though he’s often wearing headphones ( airpods, of course, the nerve of this rich kid ), half the time, nothing’s playing. sometimes he forgets to press play on his phone, sometimes he purposely likes listening to decision-making and conversations of strangers. it lets him think about the nature of mankind.

maverick’s favorite philosopher is albert camus, known for his work that heavily developed the idea of absurdism ( much to do with the meaning of life, and human inability to discern an answer ). 

* / WANTED PLOTS. 

CHECK OUT MY WANTED PLOTS PAGE HERE !

childhood friends: again, someone who would have known him from pre-cynical, arrogant asshole days. they could be friends now still, 

ex-friends: perhaps maverick went a bit too far with the questions, about trying to probe into someone’s mind. maybe for this reason, or for others, these two fell out of touch / argued and might be forced into new places due to the disappearance of the other townspeople.

unlikely friends: maverick’s reputation isn’t exactly favorable to some crowds. maybe they became friends in one of their shared classes or through mutual friends, and actually get along well, despite coming from different backgrounds / having different values. they probably see a bit of a deeper side to mav than most people !!

good influence (?!): maverick gets into his shit, has probably a less-than-favorable reputation, but he still cares about people, deep deep down. maybe your muse is a bit lost, and maverick is worried about them and wants to help them get back on track –– especially with all the changes happening in the society !! we can plot lil details about this, esp bc it’s a v unique side of mav i’d love to explore !! ( insp: x, x, x )

bad influences: those who partake in the sins that maverick just loves to lap up. they feed off of each others’ energy, often encouraging more drinking, more drugs, more sex. it’s a bit of a never-ending circle, but one that maverick keeps coming back to, for some reason. ( insp: x )

frenemies: this could be some sort of intellectual challenger kind of deal ? someone mav actually appreciates having in his life, though they butt heads a lot maybe for some reason !! ( insp: x )

disliked: they probably find maverick’s personality appalling or annoying, they probably find him pretentious af and super hypocritical for preaching so much about morals, when he drinks and uses drugs and just fucks around half the time. they could call him out for his flaws, or we could go down a completely different route of them having some weird history of mutual plots ??? so so much room for possibility here !!

+ have a couple more in my wanted plots tag here ! but literally, as a self-proclaimed angst and plot ho, please hmu with any and all ideas you might have !! i can’t wait to get started w all of u !!!

[katzuyas]

written for @yoi-fanbook almost a year ago and so I’m finally posting it before 2017 is over~ hope you enjoy!

if your wings are broken, borrow mine

His job had always been easy. Sometimes too easy, boring even, and when that happened Victor strayed from the task he'd been given. Nudging lightly a guy who was too shy to ask the pretty model out, or lending a hand to a middle-aged couple who'd been trying to adopt a child for years on end with no luck; he broke the rules and reached out to humans. It wasn't enough to be hailed a miracle, but it made Victor smile. Put more wind in his wings on his way back home.

He loved his job.

Humans were curious creatures – their lives were short and hectic, but even in all kinds of despair they were so prone to feel there was always an inkling of hope in their hearts. Sometimes... sometimes Victor wished he could be one of them. To live so vividly, so intensely, to love, to be loved, to care for someone, to hope, to dream. How amazing it would be to see the world from down there, from where the humans looked up to the skies in awe and wonder, where the passage of time could touch him and make him grey with old age?

But he knew he couldn’t have that. He was an angel, his place was not among them.

So he watched, and he helped, and he created miracles – those small and those big, making the insignificant lives of humans something more, something that filled the world with the beautiful, pure energy of Life and Creation.

And that was enough.

 ***

 With only a towel wrapped around his hips and another around his shoulders to keep his wet hair from dripping, he stepped into the bedroom. Yuuri was still nestled between the sheets, just like he was before Victor had left him. Face smushed in Victor's pillow and one arm slung around Makkachin, who was napping at his side, Yuuri was snoozing softly in the morning hush.

Smiling, Victor padded over to the bed.

"Yuuri," he called quietly. "It's morning, time to wake up."

But there was no reply. Victor knew better than to expect that. He rested his hand on Yuuri's head, gently threading fingers through the black locks. The tender touch, more than his words, stirred Yuuri from slumber and bleary eyes blinked at Victor.

"Good morning," Victor chirped.

He retracted his hand when Yuuri smiled back at him: a serene smile, warm and soft, still mulled with sleep. Yuuri stretched under the covers, waking Makkachin in the process. With tender affection churning warmly in his chest Victor listened to the moan that slipped past Yuuri's lips as his joints popped in all the right places.

"'morning," Yuuri mumbled over a yawn.

Suddenly unable to look at him, afraid of the strength of his own feelings, still so new, so intense, so precious, Victor stepped away from the bed.

"Where are you going?" Yuuri asked, following him with his eyes. "Come back to bed for a bit, it's still so early. We can nap at least half an hour more." And when Victor didn't reply, Yuuri whined: "Victooor..."

Victor only chuckled.

Happiness coursed in his veins and joy put a spring in his step as his heart danced to the ancient song of love, kindness, devotion, when he moved back into the bed and Yuuri's warm embrace.

 ***

 Demons had no souls. Neither did angels.

But there were halves... Nephilims and cambions, daughters and sons of angelic or demonic descent, who still retained half their immortal soul from their human parent. They had no place in Heaven or Hell, forever sentences to suffer in the realm of men. Despite never asking to be brought into the world, they had nothing they could call theirs. Shunned by all, accepted by none – their only consolation was the scrap of humanity they'd never wanted.

Yuuri was one of them. And he despised it.

 ***

Anxiety, oppressive and ugly, sunk its claws in Yuuri's chest. It did so often, more than he'd ever admit. The darkness curling around him from inside out was familiar, a friend almost, pulling at his limbs and choking his breath away.

Yuuri had always dealt with it in a simple way: by not dealing with it. He curled in his bed, with lights off and curtains drawn, and slept through the heavy burden of guilt, sadness, desperation and shame.

He was half-human, it was only ironically fair that human weaknesses were to touch him as well. But as a half-demon he should've been able to handle it, to shrug it off. He should've... but he couldn't. Even in that he was a failure.

Tugging painfully at his hair, Yuuri swallowed a sob of anger. The voices in his head whispered over each other, louder and louder, driving him into insanity: mistake, failure, freak. Human.

Under the blanket, Yuuri trembled.

A hand, like a light among darkness, deceivingly warm and gentle, rested on his back. It chased away the heaviness, the fear, the disgust with a single touch – a feat none of Yuuri's efforts ever achieved.

Before he knew what he was doing, Yuuri opened his eyes and turned around to look into Victor's concerned face.

"Can I help?" Victor asked, voice soft and careful.

His eyes were bright, even in the darkness of the room. They were clear, and blue, so, so blue, that without even trying Yuuri could see the love, like clouds on the sky, nestled inside them.

"How?" Yuuri rasped through his tight throat. How could Victor do anything about–

"Any way I know," Victor answered with no hesitation. "Any way you want."

He was reaching for him, offering, but never taking, letting Yuuri make his own choice as if he had one, as if it was obvious, as if he was... human, and allowed to be.

Sinking into Victor's embrace right before he drifted off into blissful nothingness, Yuuri thought that maybe, just maybe, being human wasn't a curse like he'd believed. Maybe it was a hidden blessing instead.

 ***

 Love was incredible, Victor always thought so. Every time he witnessed an act of kindness from one human to another he couldn't get enough of the pure, glowing energy of the Creator that filled the small space in the world with its precious light. It was warm and it drew him in like a flame calling to the silly moth, except here there was no danger – just love and light and life.

He wondered what it would feel like to be the one receiving that energy, that love. It must have been an experience like no other, he reasoned. Humans smiled. Some cried. And others laughed joyously. It surely had to be an ecstatic experience, an epiphany, a spiritual height of quality Victor couldn't possibly imagine.

Giving love, receiving love.

Victor wanted it.

Humans were so lucky.

 ***

 A rose in the tall vase on the kitchen table. A rose on the pillow next to his when he unusually woke up after Yuuri. A rose atop his skating gear when he opened his practice bag.

Petals of heavenly blue curled tightly in the centre and spread out into a deeper shade until they dipped in purple, like a morning sky on the days where the world turned cold, but bright with colour. It reminded Victor of the past. A nostalgic feeling settled in his bones, in the tissue memory of his heart. It reminded him of that feeling when he hovered high in the clouds, watching, observing, the rising sun pressing a loving hand to the middle of his back in a soft push towards Heaven, towards home...

The door leading onto the small balcony squeaked and Yuuri stepped back inside. Scissors in one hand, he was holding a freshly cut blue rose in the other. The railing of the balcony was completely covered in vines, just like it had been the first time Victor had seen it. The roses sprouted from the vines proudly day after day under Yuuri's careful care, as if to repay him for his love and care, and Victor couldn't find a sight more uplifting to his spirits.

Yuuri smiled when he spotted Victor, stepping up to him with no reservation. He reached up and tucked the flower behind Victor's ear, eyes soft and warm. His fingers lingered in Victor's hair for a moment, tenderly brushing the ends.

"A beautiful flower for a beautiful soul," Yuuri said.

Victor shook his head in fond amusement and took Yuuri's hand, kissing the slightly chilled knuckles. He smiled back.

"No more than your own."

The flush of Yuuri's cheeks was a precious gem in Victor's memory.

 ***

 The terms of his deal were simple – reap a thousand souls and live in Hell forever. Yuuri believed it wouldn't be hard, even with him being a halfling. He had an eternity for it, he'd manage at some point. Or that was what he'd thought before he actually stepped into the human world.

It took him years to find his way around, to somewhat fit in.

It took even more years to get over the initial shock that he would have to corrupt, to kill to take a soul.

Three decades later found Yuuri slipping.

He didn't want to kill. He never wanted it. His morality, that of a human more than a demon, grew stronger as his eyes opened to the real world. He'd spent so long amongst the humankind, day after day witnessing their short and vivid lives, that without even noticing he became thinking like one of them.

Killing was wrong. Killing was... something in Yuuri's chest throbbed every time he thought about it and he tried to pretend he didn't know what it was, but the truth was hard to run away from. His half-soul: the human part of him revolted at the idea of taking another's life.

But unlike the rest of humans, Yuuri wasn't blind. He could see the plethora of evil plaguing the societies, killing the innocents, blaming the weak. Demons were busy at work, pushing good people onto the paths leading into darkness, reaping the souls which before their touch were meant for Heaven – stealing, plundering, leaving corpses behind.

Yuuri was disgusted.

With them, with himself for ever considering it, with the angels who stood by, just watching, and did nothing even if they could.

Free will, they always said. All humans were created with a choice.

Yuuri was born half a demon, half a human, so did he have half a choice as well? He believed, he hoped.

And he resolved himself to taking only the souls which were already condemned, the souls of the broken, the souls of the fallen. Unsurprisingly, those were plenty in this vile and cruel world.

 ***

 Laughter was a wondrous thing. The souls shone with pure light and happiness, so blinding and beautiful, no demon would be able to resist the temptation of tarnishing such light.

Yuuri watched them, jealous, but also content. His instincts, the demonic genes that pressed him to corrupt that which was innocent were quiet now. Hushed over by whole decades of holding back, they remained dormant even in the face of such temptation and that, more than anything, pleased him beyond simple content.

Looking at the small children skating around Victor in circles, laughing so carelessly, Yuuri felt relieved. He didn't need to kill, he didn't need to take souls – not if he didn't want to.

And he didn't. At least for now.

Victor's soul caught his eyes, brighter than most, a little wild, but unblemished. It filled Yuuri's vision like a burning bonfire. His constant presence next to him, feeding him light, chasing away the darkness, and clearing his thoughts was something Yuuri would never be able to explain. Why? How? He couldn't tell, even if he tried. Victor just... was. Some might have said Yuuri was the one being corrupted, that he was giving himself up, but Yuuri wanted it. To be close to him, not to devour, but just to be close to that light, to the warmth of Victor's beautiful soul.

Victor's eyes found him as if he felt Yuuri's gaze and he smiled at him. A smile of soft affection, cheerful, yet tender, and Yuuri smiled back. Skates glided across the ice and Victor stopped before him to take his hand. And Yuuri followed – willingly, happy that he could.

The warm hand leading him never let go.

 ***

 Demons were born of human weaknesses. They fed on them, grew stronger, more powerful and corruptive. Thankfully, most of them spent their days in the deep pits of Hell, away from civilization and away from angels. There were some, however, who took pleasure in snatching human souls right from under the Guardians' noses.

Victor wasn't a Guardian, he was a Virtue, so as such his contact with demon kind was limited. Or it should've been. By some inconceivable twist of fate, Victor had seen this particular demon more than once. More than twice. More than…

It should’ve been impossible, but there he was now, staring at Victor with warmly glowing eyes. Their gazes met for just a second before the demon turned his head away, giving Victor unvoiced permission to ogle him, which he unashamedly did.

The demon looked human, painfully so. There were no horns, no tail, no evil aura clinging to his skin. In fact, if Victor couldn’t see him feeding on the soul of a broken man who’d beaten his two children to death just minutes before, he would’ve mistook him for a human.

Alas, half a soul that shone inside him, half the proof of his humanity, was bright in Victor’s eyes. A halfling, he realized with eyes wide in surprise.

The halfling finished his meal before his face contorted in disgust as if eating the soul of the murderer brought him pain. Fascinated, Victor drifted closer. There were two more souls in the small house, the soul of the older boy, which was ready to return to the Creator, and the soul of the small girl, who was clinging to life by a thread.

Victor was prepared to fight for both, the demons never missed a chance at a free soul, but–

The one before him only swept a bored glance at them and turned away.

Victor watched him go with mouth parted in surprise and curiosity burning in his chest.

 ***

 Even after he'd been turned into just a human, Victor couldn't help it. He stood between the demon and the poor, terrified soul. He couldn't leave, he couldn't let the demon have it, he just couldn't walk by them and pretend he didn't see. But...

He couldn't really protect it either.

The demon cocked her head at him, dark eyes gleaming with malice as if he was a new toy for her to play with. And with his wings gone, with his heavenly powers gone, Victor would be just that if she attacked.

Fear curled around his heart, squeezing hard and urging him to run, but even then he refused to move.

"You're a Fallen One," the demon observed, a curious quirk to her lips. "What's a Fallen One doing pretending to protect a meagre soul? You'll die. For real."

"I don't care," Victor replied, gritting his teeth. "You're not taking this soul."

The demon laughed, a shrill, crazed cackle that raised the hair on Victor's nape.

"Oh, darling," she cooed. "I will take that soul. And I will take what's left of yours, too."

Before he could as much as blink, she lunged at him with the speed he could not match in his human body. Realization and resignation kept him still, even as her talons reached for his chest as if to pluck his heart out of it. Milliseconds of memories, of fragments of his life flashed before his eyes: Yuuri smiling, Yuuri pressed against him on the couch, Makkachin licking his face, Yuuri's face–

Yuuri's dark face, tight in anger, made Victor suck in a greedy breath.

He watched with unblinking force how Yuuri, his sweet, gentle Yuuri, grabbed the demon's wrist and with little effort flipped her over his shoulder, sending her body straight at the brick wall of the building nearby. The crash and crunch of bones reached his ears, but Victor could not look away from Yuuri. In that moment, nothing else mattered.

Yuuri's hand locked around Victor's elbow: a hard pressure, almost desperate.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

He wasn't looking at Victor, his eyes – now glowing with a strange light – were glued to where the fallen demon was trying to stand. Body tense and on guard, Yuuri shifted to stand before Victor protectively.

"Unharmed," Victor said, afraid to say more in case he distracted him.

The demon finally stood, glaring at Yuuri with heated passion. She hissed something, something Victor didn't understand, but Yuuri clearly did. His lips pressed together into a thin line. He didn't reply, however, and the demon snorted, sending Victor a fowl scowl before she disappeared in a cloud of smoke.

Yuuri was still tense when he turned to look at Victor for the first time. His hand trembled when he reached to touch Victor's cheek, and Victor smiled, taking the hand halfway and leaning into the touch. Yuuri's eyes never stopped glowing.

"You never stop surprising me," Victor admitted, a little awed.

It was strained and slightly on edge, but Yuuri laughed. Victor pulled him close and leaned their foreheads together, his panicked heartbeat slowing down in the safety of Yuuri's presence.

 ***

 There was someone watching him. Yuuri could feel the gaze between his shoulders, heavy and sharp like a sting of a whip, but no matter how often it happened he could never tell where it was coming from. The humans around him mingled without a care and no one seemed to mind him, and yet...

The insistent itch of being followed made Yuuri uneasy. He clutched the sweaty hand he was holding onto and led the drunk girl slumping at his side into the apartment building. Up the stairs, down the corridor, until the door with a crooked 26 stared him in the face. He patted the girl’s pockets for keys and found nothing.

With a sigh, Yuuri closed his eyes briefly. Humans.

He checked if the girl’s eyes were closed. They were. The stench of alcohol hung around her closely, making Yuuri grimace, but at least her lack of restraint was good for this one thing. He could leave her before her door, sure, or he could… Since there was no one in the corridor except for them ­– he laid his hand on the doorknob. It opened with no resistance, a trickle of his demon power working its way into the lock and letting them in.

The gaze – heated, uncomfortable, overbearing – was still on him and Yuuri shivered. Quickly, he pulled the girl inside the small flat, but it was no use. The feeling was with him when he let the body leaning on him slip onto a small bed in a cramped bedroom. It was there when he shifted the girl around to her side, so she wouldn’t choke if she ended up puking. And it was still there when he left the same way he came from, locking the door behind himself.

Yuuri knew there was a chance that it was all his imagination, that he was just paranoid. But there was also a chance he wasn’t. Someone could’ve been watching him.

A demon? Trying to make sure he was fulfilling his part of the deal? Maybe. If so, they would certainly be disappointed. Yuuri smiled to himself, resigned to always be too weak for his brethren.

From the corner of an eye he noticed a flash of white and curious, he turned that way. The street was just as dark as before. Only the neon street signs flashed with colour, but none of them resembled the pure, unearthly white he was sure he’d seen a second before.

Oh well, he must have imagined it. It's been a long day.

 ***

 Everything Victor did was undeniably graceful and charming, it was just a fact. From brushing his teeth, through falling on his ass on the ice, to finally... spilling food all over his lap. There was nothing that didn't make the people around him stop and stare, and as annoying as the attention oftentimes was, Yuuri couldn't help but be amused as well.

Leave it to an angel to make something as mundane as using chopsticks into a spectacle.

When another clump of rice ended up on Victor's lap before he could put it in his mouth, Yuuri couldn't sit back anymore. Especially when Victor's pouting face was making him breathless with the laughter he was trying so hard to swallow.

He nudged Victor's leg under the table while he picked up his own chopsticks again to show Victor the correct way of using them.

"Watch me," Yuuri said.

"Always," Victor replied with a promise in his eyes, which somehow, Yuuri believed, had little to do with learning to eat with two pieces of polished wood.

Fighting off the urge to look away as his cheeks reddened, Yuuri cleared his throat. Stupid angel and his stupid charms.

 ***

 His wings had always been beautiful. They sprouted tall from his back, right from his shoulder blades, and even though they were heavy, the weight was comforting like a brother's back pressing into his own protectively, giving him strength and confidence. His feathers were in immaculate condition, too. Long, soft to the touch, pure white and glowing subtly with ethereal light of the Creator – they were Victor's personal pride and joy.

His wings were an object of admiration to many, and even Victor himself marvelled at them from time to time; he was one lucky angel. He loved them, from the tips to the delicate padding of feathers across his back, which hid the place the wings dipped into his flesh seamlessly. It would hurt to–

"Are you sure it is what you want?"

The Holy Spirit, an entity made purely of light, was right before him as he knelt on the golden floors before the Heavenly Seat. He was a Virtue, one of many belonging to the Second Sphere under the Spirit's jurisdiction, so even though God was presently seated on His throne, it was the Spirit's voice that resonated within Victor's mind.

He stroked one of his wings, a fond smile on his lips. He was going to miss them, but...

With no hesitation, he gave his answer: "It is."

The waters of the stream that spilled from a crack in the throne and run through the whole of Heaven, curling and winding around it in a protective embrace, were bright and clear – just as was Victor's dedication to the mission he had imparted onto himself.

Even if it meant losing something precious in return.

"So mote it be," God proclaimed, and Victor fell.

 ***

 He tried not to think about it, to pretend it didn't bother him, but sometimes... sometimes it did, and keeping it in was too much. The scars on his back were paling, the pain when he moved his shoulders was near to nonexistent, and when he put on a tick sweater even the cold wind didn't faze him.

But the weight, the weight threw him off.

Without his wings, Victor felt bare. He felt too light. Just catching his balance the first few days was a challenge, and although he got quite used to it with time, he still couldn't help but move the shoulder muscles that linked to his wings whenever he tripped – only to be reminded by the sting in his hands when he caught himself falling that his wings were truly gone.

He knew that he gave them up willingly. And yet... it didn't hurt any less.

A knock on the bathroom door made him startle. Wide blue eyes filled with unshed tears stared back at him in the mirror just as Yuuri's muffled voice came from the other side:

"Victor?" he asked. "Are you okay in there?"

Yes, of course, he wanted to say.

Not really, he admitted only to himself.

But when he opened his mouth, it was only "I'll be right out!" that left it.

Yuuri was waiting for him, concern on his face and warm light in his eyes, which Victor let himself sink into when Yuuri gathered him into a hug. Careful hands rubbed his back, knowingly or not soothing the phantom ache where his wings were supposed to sprout from.

Victor gave them up.

But he gave them up for a good reason.

For this: this soft smile on Yuuri's face when he peered into his with gentle consideration, for those tender hands, and love.

He gave his wings up for freedom. And he would've done so again, and again, because Yuuri was worth it. He was worth more than a pair of wings and Victor, if he could, would've given him the world.

 ***

 They've never officially met. At least Yuuri didn't think so.

Those curious, fleeting looks traded from afar couldn't count as having properly met, so when he saw him in the park he'd frequented on his way back home, he truly saw him for the first time. Not the translucent silhouette hidden from human sight, not the flash of gorgeous white wings in the corner of his vision, disappearing faster than Yuuri could turn around. He saw him: standing there on the stone path and looking up to the sky in childish wonder as if he never before had seen the colours of the setting sun.

Yuuri's steps faltered for just a second, but he didn't let it stop him. This wasn't his business. Whatever he was doing here of all places wasn't his business. They didn't know each other, it was just a coincidence, just a big–

"Yuuri!"

The voice startled him and he tripped, barely saving himself from falling. Once the wild beating of his heart somehow settled off the thoughts of smashing his nose on the hard stones, he turned around. A smile, blinding and overjoyed, was sent his way and for the love of everything, Yuuri couldn't remember a thing he'd done to deserve it.

"Do–" he started, faltering, and after a deep breath trying again: "Do we know each other?"

He frowned, a small wrinkle appearing between his brows as the smile disappeared.

"You don't recognize me?" he asked. "I swear I've seen you looking straight at me a few times..."

Yuuri stared at him, like a deer caught in the headlights. "I don't–"

"Ah, no matter then!" The guy waved his hand carelessly, smiling again at Yuuri in that blinding, all-too-happy way which made him speechless. "I'm Victor, it's nice to finally meet you in person."

And Yuuri automatically took his hand, because that's what people do when someone is offering theirs – they shook hands and, through the veil of bizarre that was covering his eyes, Yuuri felt the very human warmth of Victor's palm, the slow flow of the blood in his veins, the thumping of his heart; and he knew, then, that something just wasn't how it used to be.

 ***

 "You knew?!" Victor looked at him, shocked. Yuuri shifted, embarrassed. "How could you not tell me?"

He was sulking, Yuuri noticed with a small smile.

"It just never came up?" he offered carefully.

Victor huffed a little, kicking a lonely stone off the path they were taking. He was mumbling something under his breath, something too quiet for Yuuri to hear, so he let Victor process. Finally, Victor lifted his head to look at Yuuri again with his dangerously bright eyes.

"So that day we first talked, in the park, you knew who I was?" Victor asked again. "You knew I was an angel?"

Yuuri nodded. "I was surprised when you talked to me, but, well, it's hard to mistake you for someone else... so yes, I recognized you."

"And you didn't say anything," Victor pouted again and Yuuri smiled sheepishly.

"I didn't want to seem rude," Yuuri admitted. "An angel without wings... It's not exactly something you bring up over tea."

It made Victor chuckle. A second later, he whirled before Yuuri, taking his hand and lifting it up to press a kiss against the knuckles.

"A demon caring about an angel's feelings," he teased with a smile. "Only I could be so lucky to find one."

"That makes two of us, then, since I found a silly angel that cares about a halfling demon spawn enough to give up his wings for him, " Yuuri replied with a smile of his own, light, happy, careless and right.

 ***

 Angels didn't belong with demons. They were opposites, enemies, never meant to cross paths as more. But from the moment Victor had laid his eyes on Yuuri, he knew he was different. They both were.

What shouldn't have happened, did happen.

Victor couldn't help but wonder if this was the Creator's intent, if this was his Will, or maybe... it was Victor's final miracle, his biggest, best work yet – a miracle of love, compassion and forgiveness.

 ***

And God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light.

                                                                                       — Genesis 1:3

[daikini-san]

Sephiroth and the Enneagram Type 1 Personality [INTJ-T]

I’ve decided to finally conduct this research and write a paper on the Enneagram Type 1 personality and how it correlates to Sephiroth.  @masterkyoko3000 this is for you. :)

Please note, this is a long post!

Individual traits percentages for Sephiroth (Hypothesis)*

Introverted – 90-95%

Intuitive – 85-90%

Thinking – 90-95%

Judging – 70-75%

Turbulent – 80-85%

*These percentages may fluctuate before and after epiphany.

INTJ Brief Detail

Basic Fear: Being Corrupt or defective.

Basic Desire: Being good, having integrity.

Key Motivations: Wanting to be right and striving higher to improve everything.  Being consistent with their ideals, justifying themselves, and going beyond criticism to avoid condemnation from others.

How these Details relate to Sephiroth

Basic Fear:  There is belief this fear has played a large part in Sephiroth's mental instability upon discovering his origins.  Before that, he’s made to commit some heinous crimes on behalf of the Shinra company who raised him.  However, despite being told that anyone against Shinra is deemed an enemy and is to be eliminated, Sephiroth still dealt with the turmoil within his mind involving if what he was doing is in fact the right thing.  Before epiphany, on a subconscious level, Sephiroth knows what he’s doing isn’t entirely right; however, it’s justified because he’s ‘saving’ the people in Midgar, Shinra, etc. from dangerous enemies such as Avalanche and the nonconformists in Wutai.  People see him as ‘perfect’ and a ‘hero.’ Yet, does Sephiroth feel that way about himself?  Thus, when he does discover that he is in fact corrupted, created solely to perform evil deeds, his mind shatters as that primal fear seeps in.  

Basic Desire:  Regarding Sephiroth, this desire has a dark twist to it. Due to the fact he’s been made corrupt by humanity, Sephiroth strives to right what is wrong, by bringing the world to its knees, and attempting to eradicate all human life.  To him, humans are the epitome of evil.  On the surface, Sephiroth doesn’t seem to have morals; however, he does have his own personal set of morals that does not correlate with the morals most humans are taught.  Some of his moral beliefs include believing humans ought to know their place in the world; feeling that humans need to learn to be fearful and obeisant to God (himself in this case); believing justice must be serviced to humanity for their corruptness and feeling that Gaia, a planet that belongs to him, needs to be cleansed of all humans. Sephiroth hasn’t lost his integrity.  Everything he does has a meaning to it, unlike what he did prior to epiphany.  He is honest in what he does and feels that what he is doing is not the wrong thing.

Key Motivations:   Outside of Sephiroth wanting to right what is wrong, he also strives to raise above and beyond.  He spent five years traveling through the spirit realm acquiring additional knowledge and power so he can return and begin his reign of justice upon the world.  Sephiroth went from being a puppet of Shinra, to Gaia’s ultimate nightmare with a mind strong enough it can withstand being dissolved into the Lifestream; project images of himself around the planet with the help of extraterrestrial cells; get inside the minds of various individuals, mainly Cloud, and puppeteer them to his advantage; use telepathy, and restructure his physical body all while accomplishing his tasks.  These are only just some of the things he’s able to do.  Thus, two years later, he returns with these same abilities, but this time he’s ascended to a higher level of existence.  Sephiroth is even less human in Advent Children than he was in the original game.  His mind is still insanely strong as he creates three remnants of himself, manipulates them to do his bidding and has them locate the extraterrestrial cells so he can manifest himself on the physical plane of existence.  In Dissidia, Sephiroth did whatever it took to regain his lost memories. He would not settle for lies, for he's too honest for that.  He even went as far as to commit suicide not once, but twice to be certain he is in fact Sephiroth and not some mirage named Sephiroth.

INTJ Key Strengths

Imaginative and Strategic mind

High Self-Confidence

Independent and Decisive

Hard-working and determined

Open-minded

Jack-of-all-Trades

Examples of these Strengths seen in Sephiroth

In any game Sephiroth is in, he uses his mind to place his chess pieces where he wants on the board.  Some examples include manipulating Cloud in such a way to turn over the Black Materia to Sephiroth not just once, but twice; meticulously planning his goal of world domination step by step in the original game; strategically finding a way to regain his lost memories in Dissidia, and working through Zack to attempt to bring his friends back without upsetting the loyalties of both Shinra and his friends.

Sephiroth is confident-too confident.  Examples include the Junon incident in Before Crisis when Sephiroth attacked Elfe only to be surprised she was still standing, for he was confident that one strike of his blade would end her life immediately; the battle between Angeal and Genesis in Crisis Core; executing his plan in the original game while manipulating his pawns to his liking, and the overconfidence that caused his downfalls when fighting against Cloud.

Sephiroth is independent and makes decisions quickly.  Even though he followed orders in Crisis Core, he did not require any assistance in his missions and usually was sent off alone to handle extremely dangerous situations such as the Ifrit incident that nearly rendered Zack useless.  When it comes to the line of work Sephiroth does, being decisive is essential.  He wastes no time deciding whether or not to eliminate a foe, i.e. taking out Genesis Copies without hesitation.

Without a doubt Sephiroth is a hard worker.  There’s several examples of it in a lot of the games he’s in.  He’s no slouch when it comes to getting things done.  The determination is evident in his unwillingness to dissolve into the Lifestream, attempting to make the planet his, and forcing others to do his bidding.  

At first glance, Sephiroth doesn’t seem like an open-minded person-rather he’s rigid in his ways.  While that’s true in some respects, in others, that’s not the case.  Being open-minded allows Sephiroth to become resourceful and utilize people and things to his advantage.  Some examples in the original game include using the black-cloaked numbered clones instead of merely ignoring them; manipulating Cloud and his party in a game of metaphysical chess instead of straight out annihilating them, and making an appearance in places not under complete oppression by Shrina (such as the Gold Saucer) and not killing everyone in sight.  

Cloud Strife is known as a Jack-of-all-Trades, which is true, but Sephiroth is also worthy of this title.  With his superior intellect, thirst for knowledge, and undying determination, there are very few things Sephiroth is incapable of achieving.

INTJ Key Weaknesses

Arrogant

Judgmental

Overly analytical

Loathe highly structured environments

Clueless in romance

Examples of these Weaknesses seen in Sephiroth

As mentioned above, Sephiroth is too confident, which comes off as arrogance.  Though there’s a valid reason behind this arrogance, it’s probably the only obstacle that gets in the way when he fights Cloud.  

Before epiphany, Sephiroth isn’t seen as judgmental, at least not without taking the time to analyze his behaviors and interactions with others.  He wouldn’t blatantly judge others, yet he’d internalize it by avoiding/ignoring those he has no desire to be associated with.  Also, since he’s dealing with the evil side of humanity often, especially during the Wutai Era, one can’t help but to wonder if judgmental thoughts have crossed his mind.  After epiphany is when his judgmental thoughts became more prominent. Sephiroth believes all humans are traitors who deserve to be annihilated and that he’s superior to these inferior dullards who walk on the planet that is rightfully his.

Over-analyzing is a weakness that’s not as prominent as the others; however, there are a few instances where his mind goes in circles trying to comprehend the reasoning behind things.  He didn’t understand why he wasn’t allowed to be Genesis’s blood donor and this fact has caused mental turmoil, which has more than likely been over-analyzed in his mind.  Additional examples include understanding the reasoning behind why Professor Gast died without telling Sephiroth anything, trying to comprehend what it is like to have a hometown, wondering why the Nibelheim environment seems so familiar to him, what his mother was like before epiphany and questioning his existence and if he’s truly human.

One wouldn’t think loathing highly structured environments to be a weakness for Sephiroth since he undoubtedly followed every rule (for the must part) and accomplished every mission given to him.  Notice in pictures, however.  He isn’t happy.  Before epiphany, Sephiroth merely did what he was told, yet there were questions as to why he’s doing this, and what is the purpose of it.  He took out his enemies quickly, not wanting his mind to wonder into the realm of trying to understand the reasoning behind said missions.  He didn’t care that he was this ‘hero’ and that everyone admired him.  He desired for his freedom, to spar with his friends when he felt like it, and engage in other private actives.  After epiphany, Sephiroth did what Sephiroth wanted.  He no longer followed anyone’s rules but his own.

Being in involved in any romance is one of those things Sephiroth could care less about.  Thus, he would be rather clumsy when it comes to this subject matter.  Not only that, his calculating mind is always observing, and scheming when it comes to people and situations. Before epiphany, the time and desire wasn’t there.  After epiphany, he’d merely use people as pawns on a chessboard to accomplish his plans.  If he ever attempted to engage in romance, it would only be to manipulate the other person to his advantage.

INTJ and Friendship

Type 1 personalities are not interested in superficial friendships, or getting lost in the throes of small talk.  These individuals strive for intellectual soul-mates.  Anything lesser than that is boring to them.  They also only have a small number of friends so they can remain independent and self-sufficient.  If it gets out hand, they will gladly cut off ties to ensure their freedom.  These individuals are not known to be comfort buddies and when emotional situations arise, it throws them for a loop.  They scale back on their emotions through the shield of rationalism and logic and expect their friends to do the same.  Type 1 personalities who have found the right individuals to feed their intellectual mind will share their dark sense of humor and sarcasm which, isn’t for the faint of heart, though they make great story-tellers.  These individuals are special and desire have those who share their intellectual prowess, uncompromising honesty and ambitions to want to grow as better people be in their realm.

How this relates to Sephiroth

Sephiroth only had two friends; Angeal and Genesis and had things went better, a third may have been possible.  That being said, Sephiroth doesn't have the time for small useless talk when he's out on missions all the time or barricading himself somewhere away from people, or reading during all hours of the night.  It's hard to relate to others, thus the lacking in friends.  He found two individuals who are closest to his strength and possibly intellectual levels compared to the rest of SOLDIER, Shinra, and much of humanity on Gaia it seems.  Genesis was into poetry and Angeal was all about dreams, pride and honor.  All these things one would assume Sephiroth values. Yet, with Genesis reading the same poem over and over, it's gotten intellectually boring to Sephiroth as you can hear in these words; “Loveless again? You never change.”  It is known Angeal lectures and it seems fair to say that Sephiroth listens; however, like Genesis, it's always the same-dreams, pride, and honor.  Wouldn't that bore Sephiroth as well? He does have a dark sense of humor.  Example being of him throwing his sword at an apple placed on top of his friends' heads for fun. After Zack and Sephiroth speak over the phone briefly and meet up in the Mako Reactor after dealing with the Angeal copies, Sephiroth begins to tell Zack the story of what he and his friends would do for fun when the second class soldiers were out.  He makes an excellent story-teller, and he's a good educator as witnessed when he explains to Zack and Tifa where Mako energy comes from and how its condensed into Materia.  

INTJ and Emotions

Unfortunately, Type 1 personalities believe emotion is synonymous with weakness, yet under all that rationalism is a raging ocean of emotion.  Individuals in this group are detached and shield themselves from others with their coldness.  They confront everything with pure logic and rationalism-cold hard facts with no emotion attached to them.  Mature Type 1 personalities who understand their emotions will not display them outwardly in the public; however, since these individuals are goal-oriented, they will use their emotions to propel their plans forward.  Since Type 1 personalities are highly intuitive, if something doesn't feel right, they'll try a logical approach and ask, “Why am I feeling this way?  What caused this?”  Or, “Why is this upsetting?  What can be done to fix this problem?”

How this relates to Sephiroth

Sephiroth was taught very early on that emotion is synonymous with weakness. He is not seen expressing much emotion before epiphany.  If he does 'react' to someone or something, it's subtle.  He's known to be detached from his surroundings as seen in pictures.  He follows his orders and does what he's told with no emotion attached to it-outwardly anyway.  Sephiroth is like an ocean, he's calm on the surface, but down below there's a war raging within.  Subconsciously, Sephiroth is suffering before and after epiphany.  Since he wasn't taught how to effectively deal with emotions, he internalizes everything until at epiphany these emotions burst from within him, consuming him and anyone who approaches him.  That is the byproduct of poor emotional management.  However, since Sephiroth is even more honest with himself after epiphany, he no longer hides the fact that he is angry at the world and that “There is sorrow in those wintry eyes.”  That being said, he weaponizes these emotions to propel his plan forward to reign justice on the traitors and take back what is rightfully his.

Thank you for taking the time to read this.  :)

Sources:

https://www.16personalities.com/intj-personality https://www.enneagraminstitute.com/type-1/

[maksylmyheart]

Olympic ice dance champion Charlie White posted a screenshot on Twitter on Jan. 17 of something he'd written "from the heart.'' It began, "Words matter. Action matters. The role we play in society matters. These are lessons I learned as an athlete, and they are the words I live by as an Olympian.''

The micro-essay was a signal that things were about to change on White's social media portal for his fans and followers, where his profile invites them to "Join me here for an important conversation.''

Since then, amid personal snapshots and promotional tidbits for the ice shows he does with partner and co-gold medalist Meryl Davis, White, whose Twitter handle is @CharlieaWhite, has posted a steady stream of strong opinions about national politics. Many of his Tweets have pointedly criticized the Trump administration, but White keeps returning to a more general theme he felt keenly as an international athlete: the image and example his country presents to the world.

White also engages in lengthy, patient, but firm reply threads with those who disagree with him. It's a huge departure from his sanitized competitive persona where, as he admits, "I wasn't a good interview. I didn't say interesting things.''

Taking such a public stance is unusual in the Olympic sports realm, where active athletes often refrain or are discouraged from making political statements by their sponsors and governing bodies, and are formally barred from doing so on the field of play at the Games themselves. (One outspoken exception is six-time Olympic shooting medalist and gun-rights advocate Kim Rhode, who addressed the 2012 GOP convention and last summer openly backed then-candidate Donald Trump.) White, who is married to 2006 Olympic ice dance silver medalist Tanith Belbin White, says he has felt no external pressure to censor himself. He and Davis have not competed since the 2013-14 season that culminated with their gold medal at the Sochi Games, but they have not ruled out a comeback. "[Tanith and Meryl] are both supportive," he says. "They know 100 percent that when I feel strongly about something, I can't stay silent. We're on the same page in terms of what is important in the world, and there are things worth standing up for."

White, 29, has been chipping away at a degree in political science at the University of Michigan for many years. He still makes his living in the figure skating realm as a performer, commentator and occasional choreographer.

He realizes some may think he's on thin ice, whether or not he and Davis ever compete again. But White says he is driven by a sense of obligation. "Post-election, I had to look at myself in the mirror and say, 'What are you really disappointed with here?' And unfortunately the answer was 'myself,''' he said in a recent interview. The following are excerpts from that conversation.

Ford:  Was [commenting on politics] something that you had to ponder for a while, or did it happen organically?

White: It's very interesting to be doing an interview of this nature [laughs]. I've gotten so comfortable with my go-to answers regarding sport and figure skating. I'm a bit nervous to take this on publicly, both in this interview and via social media. I've long been interested in politics, but I never expected myself to become a political commentator, objector or relatively outspoken person one way or the other. It had less to do with being an athlete and more to do just with the fact that I really have worked hard for people to like me. And I have always enjoyed being able to make people happy. Unfortunately, it's always seemed to be that when you step into the political realm, you don't get the benefit of the doubt any more. That's weighed on me.

Following the election, I wasn't happy with the result. I understand the way politics work, as a living, breathing organism in our society, and that so often, change is revered for the sake of change. I got it. But I did, at that moment, recognize that being upset with the way the election turned out, I could really only hold myself accountable, as I hadn't participated as a vocal, active citizen in the process. I determined that if I want to be able to be at peace with myself, I have to take a larger role. I'm almost as surprised as some of my skating fans that follow me on Twitter.

Ford:  I don't know what percentage of your replies [on Twitter] you're responding to, but it seems like a lot. What's that like?

White:  That's an important part of it for me. Being able to engage with people is ultimately what will allow us to coalesce as a nation. I understand the deep divide and I understand partisan politics -- it doesn't seem there's an easy way out. So I think beyond being able to engage people with different kinds of ideological beliefs, and set a baseline for expectations that could be universally applied to our political system, that's a way in which you can start to heal what has been a grueling process that started with the campaigning for this last election.

We're all coming at this from very different life experiences. To be a good citizen, you have to be able to come to the table with an open mind and a respect for the diversity of the people you'll be dealing with, to learn something as well as contribute. On Twitter, it can be difficult. You're stuck with 140 characters, but that doesn't mean you can't give people an opportunity to listen to something they might not have heard before, in a respectful way. Being able to listen to people, even via social media, and make them feel they've been heard and understood, even if you disagree vehemently, I think that's something they can take with them and allow them a better way to enter into the next conversation they have with someone. It's been very important for me to engage with those who raise objections -- but also those who agree with me -- but do so in a way that I don't think is conducive to a healthy conversation. I have taken stands against people who, you know, they're trying to be funny, they're trying to be witty, I get that. So much of dealing with things that scare you is to trying to make it funny. But when that "funny" is at the expense of someone else, you put them in a defensive posture, and it's certainly not going to solve any problems.

Ford:  Has it been hard to be restrained? Are there times when you draft a tweet and say, "No, I'm gonna trash that one.''

White:  Yeah, of course. I'm fallible. I don't expect that all my interactions have been perfect or will be perfect. But I do have very high expectations for myself because I recognize that what's at stake is much bigger than being petty. It's so easy to be petty when you think there's no hope you'll be able to even have a respectful conversation. That's how it can often devolve. Online, when you're not face to face with someone, you can ignore they're a real person. Lately I have gotten some of those messages where it's like, 'OK, this person clearly isn't trying to add anything or take away anything. They might not even believe what they're saying, they just get a kick out of being mean.' You have to be aware of what you're dealing with. I generally try not to block people. You deserve more than one opportunity to bring something constructive to the table. Who knows what epiphany someone could have?

Ford:  Skating can be a very snarky, subjective environment. But I've got to believe the worst of what you experienced then is nothing compared to what you could experience now.

White:  As an athlete, I always had a very stoic approach. I want to apologize, but it was probably the right way of handling myself when we were competing -- I wasn't a good interview. I didn't say interesting things. I probably said about the same thing in 90 percent of my interviews for about eight years. But for me, it was always a matter of show, don't tell.   If I had something to say, I did it by practicing hard, being consistent, keeping a level head and going out and doing my best. I think that allowed me to stay away from making critical mistakes at the wrong times. I feel the same way now. As long as you take an intelligent and measured approach to the things that matter to you, and you do so with an open mind and a kind heart, thinking about more than just yourself, then you can't be disappointed with the outcome. I feel that way about Twitter, and I feel that way about politics, and I feel that way about life. I think it's served me well so far. If through my actions and my words I can give strength, or courage, or a new take on the same information to 10 percent of the people who hear me or listen to me or care about what I say, then I think that will have been worth it. Even if zero percent are interested in what I have to say, I can't be disappointed in my own effort. That's certainly something I've taken from what I had to go through in skating.

Ford:  You're still in that skating world, making a living in a different way, and I assume will do so indefinitely. Your sponsors, your agent -- have there been any uncomfortable conversations?

White:  I haven't had a direct conversation with anyone about it. I know my parents are proud, which means a lot to me. Taking my tone and my approach into account, I don't think there's much to be worried about. Ultimately, when you feel as strongly as I do about questions of morality and ethics, you can't sell yourself short on that. There is a balancing act, of course. But I feel a great sense of duty to the country that allowed me the opportunity to have such a fantastic life, to represent them at the Olympics. I guess if there's an issue that ever arises, I'll have to deal with that. Right now, I feel fortunate that I haven't had any pressure to stay quiet.

Ford: Is it possible we would see you out marching?

White:  Yes, absolutely. It's been exciting to see the way the public has responded. It's not easy to go out and take a stand for something you believe in. But that's how we started this country. It's a way of getting people -- not to think the same way, but to really think hard about what it is our country should be representative of.

[if-only-angels-could-prevail]

here’s my LONG ASS POST where i talk about my favorite movies of the year!* i included 11 favorites, 6 alternate choices, a list of my favorite performances, and a list of my favorite music in these movies.

*in this case, “year” means “awards season”

THE BEST ONES (11 picks because I couldn’t narrow it down to 10)

20th Century Women

After Mike Mills’ masterful ode to fatherhood in Beginners (a movie that changed my life as much as any movie ever has), he matches his predecessor and then some with 20th Century Women. This is a brilliant, moving, and funny rumination on womanhood and motherhood, on what it means to be a woman, and even an examination of what feminism means in America’s constantly-changing cultural landscape. Partly based on Mike Mills’ own childhood, he described the movie as a love letter to the women who raised him, and the affection and honesty is on full display. It examines three very different women, played by three wonderful actresses, and their effect on the adolescent Jamie, Mills’ own self-insert. It’s timely, political, charming, and full of stunningly relevant dialogue about gender conformity and what it entails. This is a movie about womanhood, for everyone.

American Honey

This is a movie best described by contradictions. It’s intimate and it’s epic, it’s dreamlike and it’s realistic, it’s devastating and emotionally fulfilling. There is very little story to speak of--Star is an 18-year-old woman who joins a ragtag group of young people who sell magazines across the country. The whole movie is meandering, but Andrea Arnold (a brilliant director, also check out Fish Tank) fills this simplistic storyline with so many quiet observations and confrontations that by the end, one feels both completely full and all the more curious. It is contemporary filmmaking at its most poetic and immediate.

Arrival

This is a movie that will leave (or rather, has left) everyone talking, which is exactly my type of science fiction. It’s a quiet testament to critical thought and language, and how thrilling it can be. My only quibble is that as wonderful as Amy Adams was (and she really was pitch-perfect), I think I might have enjoyed it more with unknown faces playing these characters. But that’s not the point. The point is there was one single moment--literally down to the very second--immediately before the end credits rolled when the entire movie clicked for me, and I was overjoyed. Such moments are extremely rare in film, and I can only hope other audiences experience (or did experience) the same ecstatic epiphany that I did in that final moment. 

The Handmaiden

A Korean gothic lesbian revenge story. I was sold as soon as I heard the description. This movie reminded me of all the most exciting plot-twisty mind-bending Hollywood creations (Gone Girl came to mind a lot), but the thrills were propelled even further by the sheer visual panache and gorgeous design work that are sometimes lacking in said genre. The acting was extraordinary as well. Another movie that’s probably best knowing very little about before you see it. It’s thrilling, violent, beautiful, and passionate storytelling. 

Hell or High Water

I’m slightly biased because I love the idea of the contemporary western (True Grit and The Homesman are two of my recent favorites), and this is a prime example of old-fashioned western filmmaking with a strong contemporary sensibility. Like 20th Century Women, it seems to exist in multiple generations, and even as the characters talk about something completely unrelated, I was acutely aware of the divide, of the fascinating visual contradictions. To me, this cultural conversation was the underlying force behind the way this old-hat story was told. But don’t get me wrong: this is a pitch-perfect screenplay, possibly the best of the year. And the cast is insanely good. 

Hidden Figures

I wanted to stand up and cheer at multiple points. I teared up during at least five different scenes. This is Hollywood filmmaking at its most shamelessly crowd-pleasing, and I ate it all up. I think when you have a story as worth telling as this one, a little crowd-pleasing is earned. It’s entertaining from beginning to end, and its cultural imprint (highest-grossing of all the best picture Oscar nominees) will be empowering from years to come.

Jackie

The best biopics are about more than one person. The best biopics both relate someone’s story with accuracy and use their story to confront the audience with their own selves. This is exactly what Jackie does: it’s an unsettling movie that gets under your skin, asking questions about celebrity, about luxury, about culture, about womanhood, all the while offering a stunning character portrait of one woman. This isn’t just a history lesson: this is a confrontational masterpiece, using this figurehead as a lens to examine our own selves. Jackie Kennedy passed away when I was less than a year old, but by the end of this movie, I felt like I knew her, and I felt like I knew myself better than I had before.

Lemonade

Beyonce casually reinventing the movie musical genre. Lemonade celebrates black femininity in a revelatory and empowering way. And yet, speaking as a white boy, it can be adored by anyone with an appreciation for aesthetic beauty, and anyone who loves music. (Seriously. Amazing music.) Like some other movies on this list, the narrative is thin, but it’s thematically tight, gripping, and always exuberant to watch. It will move anyone who’s struggled through an adult relationship, and even those who haven’t will feel privileged to watch this raw and emotionally naked portrait. It also proves that movie musicals need not be nostalgic fluff pieces (*cough*)--they can be current, they can be iconic, they can be culturally relevant, they can be hot-blooded, angry, sensitive, thrilling, poetic, feminist, and last but not least, unapologetically and exuberantly black.

Miss Sloane

I’m biased because I love Jessica Chastain. But his movie delivered. It’s about a fast-talking political lobbyist and how she navigates the political sphere, confronting her coworkers, her enemies, the law, and (most significantly) her own conscience. Its conversations are timely, as one would expect. But I found it most interesting as a contemporary morality play. Like Jackie, Miss Sloane is a character study which isn’t content being a mere character study--it confronts the audience on well-worn but ever-timely questions of how we define morality, happiness, and success. Some of the dialogue comes across as cheesy faux-Aaron Sorkin, which has drawn some criticism. The critics are right, but I ate it all up. This movie is more entertaining than any movie about a political lobbyist has any right to be, and even when it veers toward the unbelievable, it’s an awesome ride.

Moonlight

If I keep going back to the phrase “visual poetry,” it’s because this year in movies was an embarrassment of riches in that regard, Moonlight being a prime example. Every shot, every frame, felt so vital, deliberate, and beautiful. Moonlight is many things--a careful rumination on masculinity, a testament to parenthood, an artfully-crafted coming-of-age movie--but above all else, it’s a love story. A black gay love story, told with sincerity and a lot of heart. Quietly groundbreaking and cathartic.

Silence

Is it too bold to suggest this could be Scorsese’s masterpiece? It’s certainly among his most ambitious. And it’s painstakingly crafted, and dramatically tight. Andrew Garfield and Adam Driver (both acting up a storm) play 17th-century Jesuit priests who experience extended religious oppression in their efforts to spread Christianity throughout Japan. I know that sounds boring. But Silence is a force of nature, jaw-droppingly epic in scope. And yet for all its hugeness, for all its passion and melodrama, there is a stinging intimacy throughout that keeps one caring for these characters as if they’re longtime friends or brothers. And like every good period drama, it feels achingly contemporary, and the story feels heartbreakingly current. It’s a behemoth of a movie that my own paltry superlatives can hardly scratch the surface of, but trust me: it’s incredible.

ALTERNATES 

Allied

Great old-fashioned filmmaking without pandering to nostalgia. It’s an extremely handsome movie, and it’s dramatically taut, but the story still manages to defy your expectations at every turn. Brad Pitt and Marion Cotillard are wonderful movie stars, perfectly cast in this old-fashioned yarn. I wish it had managed to find more of an audience, because it’s top-tier Hollywood storytelling.

Fences

Fences is indisputably a great play, so even a version that feels like a self-conscious adaptation is still going to be awfully good. Viola Davis is perfect, as we all know. Denzel Washington's performance felt too big for my taste, as if he didn’t do much in terms of translating his performance from stage to film, but obviously he’s a wonderful actor and charismatic as hell. Since not everyone can see Fences onstage, this movie is a damn good substitute.

Hail, Caesar!

The Coen brothers are likely my favorite movie directors working today--their last three movies in particular have all been extraordinary (A Serious Man, True Grit, Inside Llewyn Davis). Hail, Caesar! seems like an unusual next step for them, going back to some of their zanier antics, with a loving tribute to old Hollywood. But this isn’t cheap nostalgia--this is a deliciously original story, full of wacky surprises, a LOT of kooky characters, and some completely unexpected gags. It’s pure entertainment, if you’re buckled up for a lot of weirdness.

The Jungle Book

Another “pure entertainment” entry. I was awed by this live-action remake of the Disney classic. The artistry in the CGI was mind-blowing, and it had such an awesome power on the big screen. The classic story was told with care and economy, but the design and visual beauty was the main draw. And I always support unprompted musical numbers in non-musical movies.

Kubo and the Two Strings

Beautiful, beautiful designs, and a wonderfully original and twisty story. In retrospect, I wasn’t sold on all the plot elements, and the mostly-white cast playing Japanese characters seemed indelicate for several reasons. But it was visually stunning, the music was gorgeous, and the story was laudably original and full of imagination.

The Lobster

What makes dystopian stories so appealing is they offer the audience a lens to look at their own society through a foreign and fictional concept. The Lobster is a great example, offering a look at society’s expectations for how we treat romance and sex. The script starts to verge toward too much concept at points, but I found it compensated for its heavy plot turns with a treasure trove of wry observations. The acting and the execution is good, but in this instance, the script is the main draw, and one that left me thinking long after I had finished.

INDIVIDUAL PERFORMANCES I LOVED

Annette Bening and Greta Gerwig in 20th Century Women

Amy Adams in Arrival and Nocturnal Animals (despite my quibble about casting movie stars in Arrival, she delivered a brilliant performance)

Viola Davis in Fences

Kim Min-hee and Kim Tae-ri in The Handmaiden

The always-brilliant Jeff Bridges in Hell or High Water

The entire cast of Hidden Figures

Natalie Portman in Jackie

Beyonce in Lemonade

Joel Edgerton and Ruth Negga in Loving

Michelle Williams in Manchester By The Sea

Jessica Chastain in Miss Sloane

Ashton Sanders, Andre Holland, Jharrel Jerome, Naomie Harris, and Mahershala Ali in Moonlight

Nathan Lane in No Pay, Nudity

Andrew Garfield in Silence

Paul Dano in Swiss Army Man

MUSIC I LOVED

Hail, Caesar!

Hidden Figures

Jackie

The Jungle Book

Kubo and the Two Strings

La La Land

Lemonade

Moana

Moonlight

Silence

Swiss Army Man

[silverose]

The Rise of Bangtan

Another day passed as I start to jot down my thoughts for the week. This previous week, I have witnessed one of the most awesome things in my Twitter; BTS’ Idol got 60M views in less than 2 days and I couldn’t be more proud to be a part of their ARMY. It’s amazing to see how many people from different cultures, race, religion; social status and country unite and even with different time zones are able to stream religiously one video.

Why did I mention it? Well you see, it’s funny to see the general public’s view on this. Most are shocked at the dedication and inspired and respect the fandom. It’s surprising to everyone because the last time a KPOP act has ever trended so long and high was when PSY released his song ‘Gangnam Style’ which was so old school now. What makes BTS different that they have this dedicated fandom? The only answer I could give is their message that they try to convey to each music video, trailer and lyrics they post which is why both the artist and fans are powerful. No, I’m not exaggerating because of the growth they had since 2016 was massive. I wouldn’t focus on that on this blog, let’s do it another time.

BTS isn’t your typical KPOP group who just sings and performs love songs, catchy music that has no meaning and such. They usually do this stuff wherein their posts are related to the next album and we won’t really notice until they give hints like a comeback trailer or the picture of the album cover with the tracklist and fans make theories what the next story would be like. BTS has made their fans research and find the deeper meaning of their songs and to those who say how do the fans understands Korean, this is where Youtube and Google comes in. It’s a shame that we are in 2018 yet we are still naïve to things like this or close our minds to ideas like that and be prejudice. Criticize the fans and ask them how BTS helps them overcome things in life.

Social media connected BTS with ARMY and helped the fans understand the message as they create theories basing off the stories BTS got reference to their music videos and those stories aren’t cliché because those are stories with moral lessons like The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas, Demian, Into the Magic Shop and more. BTS often gives clues that makes fans think deeper than what they see and truly make them understand. They gave out the messages like it’s okay if you fail but you must still continue to strive, that having no dream is okay because we all had a stage like that and most importantly; loving yourself. No matter how hard the situation is or everyone else leaves you, love yourself because no one would love you the way you would and comfort you better than yourself.

To end my thoughts, BTS’ music is really extraordinary because of how they can make great quality music with a message to convey which I guess is extraordinary these times. It is by social media that they can send their music and no; it’s not really SNS that made them this famous, it is just an instrument to send their thoughts. The music is what really made fans get hooked. Social media is just the instrument to be able to spread the music around the world which made me like BTS more each day.

 STREAM THEIR NEWEST MUSIC VIDEO FOR LOVE YOURSELF: ANSWER, IDOL ON HERE AND EPIPHANY HERE

[the-vinedresser]

YA GIRL FINISHED HER FIRST SEMESTER OF SENIOR YEAR WOOOO 1. Kind of barely made it out alive, but in the end I’m honestly really proud of myself. I studied really hard for my last final and was actually able to concentrate and curb anxiety and it was amazing.

2. My friend is so funny. After our midterm we were both so happy because it was so easy and he was like, “Well, Megan, it was nice taking this class with you…” LOL and proceeded to give me a bro hug HAHA you know, the one where you high five with one hand and half hug with the other. So funny so adorable I loved it. His consistent presence just simply helped me get over whatever hump I was going through, even if it was super fleeting and temporary, those moments of happiness and silliness were still real and I appreciate it a lot.

3. After I worked on the American Constitution final with a couple friends and man oh man. That had to be the worst final I’ve ever taken. The amount of work was just EXCRUCIATING. Holy. We worked on it for the full limited time which was 5 and a half hours. No breaks. No food. We were so frustrated but we all eventually pooled answers and ran to the library to print them out and hand them in.

4. Got some food with E and it was pretty nice because I love to listen and she loves to talk so it was a good match. HAHA Also nice to talk to someone who is majoring in the same liberal arts subject as you. We got to talk about books and work and all of that.

5. On my way home I got some citron soju. I really wanted Jack Daniels honey whiskey because a friend bought it one time freshman year and it was amazing but the guy said it was $27 so NOPE. Did I drink it by myself? Yes. Did I post it on social media and delete it? Yes. Because people will always think of it as sad, but I just love alcohol ok. LOL I just like unwinding and chilling while watching cooking shows and playing animal crossing on my phone.

6. But lately, I’ve been thinking of experimenting and partaking in a fully sober month. No cigarettes or alcohol. Just to see if it makes my mind sharper and my overall mood better.

7. Took the train home. Bro picked me up. Conversation is awkward as always. I used to think it was because we’re so different, but maybe it’s because we’re so alike that there’s a disconnect. We’re both especially secretive when it comes to our deep thoughts and struggles and we both feel quite intensely. We’re both just kind of intense in general. LOL So when we don’t have that light and vulnerable person to warm us up, like our other brother, it’s just kind of like AHH who initiates what first. And what I also noticed is that we love strangers. We love interacting with them and giving them respect and being open to them right off the bat. But with that, we sometimes don’t cultivate the deepest relationships.

8. That being said, I actually left my cellphone at the train station bench. My mom tracked the phone and it said it was at a McDonalds in Carmel, New York. My mom and my brother started freaking out, convinced that someone stole it and the person who stole it is a no-lifer who works at McDonalds. Eventually they called my bro’s number after we texted my phone and we went to pick it up. But ok firstly, when my brother was driving us home from the train station there was a massive accident and we were stuck in traffic for a really long time. Then, after we get home and he finds out my phone was potentially stolen, he starts calling my phone like crazy AND THEN starts calling the McDonalds at least 5 times. So then he drives me to the McDonalds to pick it up and everything and literally expects no recognition. I say thank you and he doesn’t even respond. He just goes back to normal like nothing happened and honestly we might not have the most invigorating conversations but his acts of kindness and care that he puts into my well-being is more than enough.

9. Oh so yesterday after I drank soju I listened to music and smoked and it was 2am but almost 40 percent of the lights were still on in other apartments and I felt so comforted by that because almost every roommate I’ve had sleeps at midnight the latest. I’m just like THANK YOU I’m not crazy after all. Nighttime is the best time. In the daytime I’m literally in a state of disgust because the streets are so congested and people are hella stressed and impatient. It’s also just too bright and it hurts my eyes. Anyways, the sound of silence was a first that night and all I heard was the wind. The fresh air and being surrounded by plants is so nice.

10. But I’m glad I’m moving out of Stuytown. LOL because it makes me kind of hayfeverish. Like all the buildings and rooms are the exact same, all you see are older rich people with their annoying ass kids (some are cute but most are argh) and I just don’t feel at peace with it for some other arbitrary reasons. I like the rustic feel and the uniqueness of an apartment complex. It really emphasizes that people and life experiences are different. I also just felt like judgment? I know it sounds silly because no one gives a fuck about me but it just seems like the people around me are more inclined to judge versus if I lived in the lower part of the East Village, ya know? People are younger and more open-minded.

11. There’s something about Connecticut that recharges my batteries like no other. I already feel SO inspired. The creative juices are just oozing out of me. I’m just daydreaming, making food, and thinking of the next creative process. It’s so nice. I feel a life-change coming on. I feel like I really have to start putting myself on a regimen. Healthier foods and meditation, as well as journaling. Like actual journaling in a physical notebook? We’ll see, I’m still thinking about it. Also, if you couldn’t tell, my thoughts and ideas are usually very noncommittal. I probably won’t follow through on most of the things I say. LOL

12. I’m taking life too seriously. Since when did I take life so seriously? I am reaching to find a life purpose/moral/goal to focus and hone in on so I can be stable in what I want and be less prone to bending myself into different shapes so I can receive approval from people. I choose to live a life of truth! I don’t want to buy into whatever the dreamy world is selling. Do I want money and glory? I mean, of course but do I want happiness more? Absolutely. So I really want to be intentional in trying to do more things that solely bring me happiness. Because if I don’t, it’s a cycle of worry and heaviness that I now know I have complete control over. GET AWAY FROM ME NEGATIVE PEOPLE. I DON’T GOT TIME FOR THAT.

13. I think being at home brings time the most joy because, again, I am extremely sensitive to my environments and I honestly had an epiphany just now, but… MY FAMILY IS SO NICE. I think they are honestly the nicest people I’ve ever met. They’re truly gems. They feel and care and do so much for other people and they get so much joy out of doing so, even if it takes so much work, time, and effort. That’s so noble and wholesome and I respect that so much. Although my other brother’s motives can be quite questionable and sketchy sometimes, I accept all of him. LOL honestly I have faith in the both of us to mature wonderfully and be as level-headed as the rest of our family because all we like to do is pride ourselves and pick fights. lolol

[russellthornton]

Coming Out of the Closet: 15 Steps to Open a New Life Door

Coming out of the closet takes the courage that not many people have. Hold your head high, be honest, and be you. Your new life is about to start.

I don’t know if I have any business broaching this subject, primarily because I haven’t ever been in your shoes. I know there is an abundance of features out there written by people who went through the hardships of coming out of the closet. But I am someone who is on the outside, with six children, and am a third-party objective player.

Sometimes I wonder what I would do if any of my children came out of the closet. As a mother, the only thing I want for my children is for them to find happiness. I know being gay isn’t easy in society, but it also isn’t nearly as difficult to be you as it was just two short decades ago. There is no reason to hide who you are anymore. People who love you will always love you.

Follow your heart

If I know one thing in life, it is that when we do what is in our heart, follow our own moral compass, or do what we feel we have to, there is always going to be someone who isn’t going to like it. You, being honest about who you are and what you want, isn’t going to be easy for everyone. But, that is true of not just being gay, straight, or bisexual.

Everything from working as a musician instead of being a doctor, being an artist instead of putting on your three-piece suit to hit the office, disappoints anyone with other plans for you.

If you want to live a genuine life full of life, love, and laughter, allow yourself to be who you are. After all, like I always say, if you are okay with you, then fuck anyone who isn’t. [Read: How to be comfortable in your own skin – 20 ways to love being you]

15 ways to ease yourself out of the closet

Perhaps the best way to come out of the closet is to keep one thing in mind. You might have known who you are and what you felt inside for years, maybe for as long as you can remember, but other people in your life might not have a clue.

When coming out of the closet, let people around you come to terms with the new you slowly and in their own time.

#1 Choose the right time. There is a right and a wrong time to come out of the closet. There might be a day when you have an epiphany that life is too short. You are just going to let the cat out of the bag, but coming out of the closet is something to plan for and consider the right time to do.

Waiting one more day, or even a week, to make sure you prepare for the fallout that could ensue, or to let some dust settle if things are out of control, is the best way to make it go over better and be less emotion-laden. [Read: The perks and un-perks of coming out of the closet]

#2 Choose the right situation. Some situations beg for you to come out of the closet and others that beg for you not to. Don’t hijack someone else’s event by making it all about you. Sure, you want to make a statement, but doing it at the expense of someone else isn’t really fair.

If you want to bring your new boy/girlfriend to your cousin’s wedding, then finding the right time before the event is better. You don’t want to show up for your reveal and upset the big day for your cousin.

#3 Single out people instead of making a big announcement. Letting everyone know at once cuts down on the rumor mill and gets it all out there without the hassle. But, if there are people who you have an obligation to tell ahead of time to give them time to process, then do that.

There is a respect factor involved. If there is someone important in your life, take the time to tell them in person, one-on-one, so they deal with it on their own time and in their own way. [Read: How to set boundaries: 10 crucial steps to feel more in control]

#4 If someone is upset, it is on them. Remember if you come out of the closet, you are out and you won’t wish you kept it hidden any longer. If someone has a problem with your lifestyle, that is on them.

There are likely going to be some people who aren’t happy; you know that, but they aren’t your problem. If you are okay with your own decisions, then be alright. Let them work through it, or not, it isn’t your fault or problem.

#5 Be honest. There might be questions that come from your coming out of the closet. Don’t take offense, you have known about it for a while, those who didn’t know, just found out.

If you are honest about how you feel, how you have always felt, when it started, and how long you have known, it eases any guilt others might harbor. Just be as honest as possible to make things go well. [Read: How to not give a fuck: Your guide to less fucks and more laughs]

#6 Speak from the heart. Telling people that you are gay is one of the hardest things in the world. But, if you speak from the heart, and speak directly to theirs, they quickly realize your happiness is what is important and see you have hidden who you are and that it isn’t fair. That brings acceptance more quickly.

#7 Don’t be afraid. Easier said than done. I know. There is nothing worse than feeling like you can lose significant people in your life if they don’t approve. If they can’t accept who you are, then they aren’t providing you with unconditional love. You are worthy of nothing less.

If someone decides they aren’t okay with it and aren’t going to accept it, then you are better off without them in your life. No matter how hard that might be. [Read: Am I bisexual or lesbian? How to understand the differences yourself]

#8 There is an order you should follow. Think about how the rumor mill is going to follow and go with the heavy hitters first. Often, we prolong the hard things longer, which when coming out of the closet, might come back to bite you.

Tell those who will be the toughest the soonest. Think of it this way, once they know, the rest is just cake.

#9 Answer questions if necessary instead of clamming up. There are going to be a lot of questions. Show people that it isn’t just a phase or something you are experimenting with by answering all the questions they have.

There are going to be people who refuse to accept that you are in your right mind or that you even know how you feel yourself. If you answer their questions without pause and with conviction, then they have an easier time accepting the truth. [Read: Biromantic vs. bisexual – How to understand who you really are]

#10 Allow them time to process. Once you tell them, give them time to process. They might avoid you for a time, as they come to terms with what you shared. It doesn’t necessarily mean they are angry or not accepting, sometimes people just need time alone to process.

To parents, it sometimes feels like a loss. Give them the space and time they need without getting in their face. Let them come to you.

#11 Don’t apologize. Don’t ever apologize for being you or feeling the way you do. Being gay isn’t a life choice, it is who you are. You have NO reason to be sorry for being who you are.

You were perfectly made the way that you are, and you owe NO ONE an apology. Although tempting to say, “I’m sorry,” you shouldn’t, and you shouldn’t be. [Read: Am I a lesbian? 20 clues to know the truth without asking around]

#12 If they are upset and choose not to respond then you have to walk away. If someone can’t accept you, then you can’t continue to hide it for their benefit or go with their request to just keep it under wraps when in their presence.

Sure, out of respect, if your parents aren’t accepting of it, then you can try to be a bit discreet *although I think that should go for heterosexual couples out of respect too*. Just lay off the PDA. But, if someone asks you to put yourself back in the closet once in a while, then walk away for your own self-esteem.

#13 Don’t let them find out through social media. If you have not told the people in your life about coming out of the closet then don’t post things to social media that will shock or hurt them. They should be the first to know, and they likely don’t want to be the last! [Read: Social media and relationships: The good, the bad, the ugly]

#14 Explain that it has nothing to do with anyone but you. As a parent, I would go through the list of things that I could have done wrong or modeling that was inappropriate to find out why you have the feelings you do.

If you tell those who feel responsible that they haven’t done anything, you were born gay, it lets them off the hook and disallows them from feeling any remorse or guilt that they did something to make your life harder than they hoped for you.

#15 Don’t take their reaction to heart. You are likely going to get some reactions that aren’t exactly positive. Try to separate yourself from it. They are shocked, reacting without thinking, and aren’t trying to hurt your feelings. They are just trying to come to terms with you coming out of the closet.

Give people time to process and make sure to tell people most important to you first, so they don’t find out secondhand. In the end, those who love you, love you and want you to be happy.

[Read: How to know if you’re gay – All the signs you can’t ignore]

So, hold your head high, be honest, and remember it isn’t your responsibility to make others happy, you have to be you, coming out of the closet or whatever else.

The post Coming Out of the Closet: 15 Steps to Open a New Life Door is the original content of LovePanky - Your Guide to Better Love and Relationships.