#simultaneously feeling irritated and validated

[teethcore]

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[twobigears]

waking up to Facebook drama over the agility judge who was attacked by a dog in the ring over the weekend, and just….fuckin yikes.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

how do you think leona would do if he falls in love?

Here are my thoughts in bullet-point/headcanon form for ease of reading! Key word there being my thoughts. (There will of course be different interpretations based on who you ask this question to.)

Standard disclaimer: These points are nothing more than my opinions and I am NOT saying my opinions are any more or less valid or “correct” than yours. Please, I’m not pre-book 1 Riddle/j It’s fine to have other takes; just remember to be mindful in how you communicate differences in opinion.

To start with, here's how I think Leona would deal with the experience of first love:

Firstly, I definitely feel that Leona is the type of person to not easily fall in love. There are many examples in canon of Leona rejecting the love he receives from others, whether it be from his own family (Cheka, Falena), dorm members (Ruggie, Jack, Savanaclaw mobs, etc.), or other peers. Even though he desires others’ approval and praise, he also simultaneously believes the compliments are insincere or that he may not be deserving or worthy of it, that he hasn’t “earned” it. It’s also difficult for him to be emotionally vulnerable with others, and I feel that this would extend to romantic circumstances.

Continuing from the previous point, I think it’d be a slow burn. Like, the feelings develop gradually and manifest in small but increasingly more forward-facing ways like his gaze lingering for a second or two longer than usual, him getting slightly irritable when he smells (I 100% believe that smell is a Big Thing for beastmen) some other guy on the object of his affections, or simply… his mind wandering to them, maybe in a daydream.

A lot of it is Leona musing about the situation and then being in denial. He’s not so oblivious as to ignore what are clearly blossoming feelings, but he's not so hasty as to act on them right away. He'd sit with those feelings, examine them, question them. What is it that he is experiencing and why, how did things come to this, etc. He may even try to convince himself it's a phase or he's "too good" for this or he's "above" this. Really takes a long time to wrestle with his emotions and to sort them out. And then when he has come to his conclusion, he might not be very pleased with it because (as I said before), he has self-esteem and self-worth issues despite outwardly presenting himself as confident and in-charge.

For a while, he keeps his distance and observes. He’s nothing if not a big cat biding his time, keeping an eye on his prey until—BAM! Down comes his paw, ensnaring the mouse. It's like a game of chess or... cat and mouse. You have to watch your opponent and predict their moves, then plan your own moves two or three or more steps ahead of them. He'd want to gauge if they're already taken, if they seem to express an interest in him too, what they like and dislike, information like that. The last thing Leona'd want to do is charge in, guns blazing, only to be rejected and have his pride hurt.

He may also go out of his way to test the object of his affections by purposefully engineering scenarios to see how they react. At first, it's subtle things that could easily be passed off as coincidence or happenstance. For example, maybe Leona would accidentally bump his shoulder against yours or as he's walking by his tail flicks you. That's just the start though. He'd put more pressure on over time. Like he'd be more confrontational, putting himself in your path as some obstacle to overcome, still being sort of an asshole to see how you handle yourself around him.

Leona tells himself he has the upper hand, and he's usually pretty consistent about hiding his feelings to that end. It might peek through here and there, but they easily read as him being tsundere as per usual. I think that would be his way of coping, because deep down he doesn't want to admit that a part of him is scared to feel this way. It's something else he could fail at, someone else he could frighten away or destroy.

With time, I think he'd become more confident. He has a better grasp of the other person, he's been able to sort out his thoughts. But the thing is, his pride is still a major deterrent. Instead of coming out and saying it, it would become another game. If you've ever read or watched Kaguya-sama: Love is War, it'd be similar to that. Leona would push for the other person to be the one to fall for him and confess first. Part of it is he's kind of afraid to be so emotionally vulnerable, part of it is that he's desperate to be wanted and needed by others, and part of it is that he feels he needs to "earn" that love by winning you over. He wants that sweet, sweet validation from you. He wants YOU to choose HIM.

I think he expects a certain amount of push and pull. If the game's too easy for him, the (psychological) hunt loses some of its thrill. I think he'd also be the type to seek a partner that isn't just a blind yes man (despite him giving off the vibes that he wants to be in total control, especially in his own dormitory); they should be able to keep him on his toes one way or another, and they shouldn't idolize him in a really unrealistic way--because then he worries what would happen if they learn about his flaws. Would they see him differently? Reject him? Etc.

It'd take a considerable amount of time and effort, but slowly he'd let the walls around his heart down to let you in--but ONLY if you pass his tests and prove that you can be loyal, trustworthy, and cognizant + accepting of all his flaws. He has high standards, so he's pretty picky about who he allows to be by his side. I don't think he'd be happy having to like... put in a fake "perfect prince" act or airs for someone else. Pretending to be someone you're not in order to have love might be just another source of stress for him.

He would take a more aggressive approach if the object of his affections makes it obvious that they return his feelings. More "accidental" touching (but of course nothing that breaches into something they find discomforting), intentionally dropping phrases that come off as flirtatious, demanding to spend more time together, etc.

If they're not into it, he'd respectfully back off. However, that won't stop him from moping about it in private later.

Then, assuming a scenario in which he and the person he's romantically interested in get together/start formally dating:

I think he'd be a lot more blatant and shameless about "showing off" his affections and/or the relationship in general. Overt flirting at this point, casually laying his head on the shoulder or wrapping an arm or tail around you, etc. Who cares who sees? Let them know you're already taken.

Oh yeah, he's really into physical touch (within whatever limits you deem to be acceptable; he respects your autonomy). Cuddles while napping, hand holding, head pats, listening to your heartbeat, etc. It grants him a sense of security that you're like... physically there with him.

I think words of affirmation are also up there, however I don't think he would appreciate it if it's like... overdone. Too many compliments might start to feel disingenuous or even smothering after a while (what comes to my mind specifically is how he reacts negatively or with denial to his brother, Cheka, Kifaji, and even his own dorm members praising him).

As I mentioned earlier, I think there'd be a lot of banter and teasing; Leona strikes me as someone who likes to toy with his pre or puts up a fight; he still has his pride and won't take sass lying down, he'd definitely retaliate but in a playful way.

Slightly whiny and needy. Key word: SLIGHTLY. He's not going to go full yandere on you. I believe that Leona would be somewhat insecure about the relationship and wants you to validate him with your presence. Like, if you're lying down somewhere and try to get up to leave... he might pout and be all dramatic about it, maybe throw in a sarcastic line about how he's "a delicate prince" and how he'll "wither like a flower" without you.

Slightly possessive. Again, the key word: SLIGHTLY. He's not going to restrict your movements or demand complete control of your life. However, he might sulk if he like... sees some other guy hovering or getting handsy, obviously making you uncomfortable. (If it's a particularly bad day for him, Leona might get intrusive thoughts about being the "second pick" and his partner leaving him for some "better" guy.) We've already seen he can get pretty territorial when it comes to Savanaclaw and the Botanical Garden, so I think at some point he'd also step in to intimidate people he feels are becoming a problem for his S/O. It's not the case for every situation though; his partner should be able to handle themselves or let him know when he's overstepping.

I think he'd be a little more tolerant of things his partner pulls. They're the one exception for certain things, like touching his ears or being more willing to listen to their requests to go to class or to try this new vegetable.

He'd try to distance his S/O from his family, especially in the beginning. Leona would tell them he doesn't think they're ready to meet the royal family yet (especially knowing the rocky relationship he has with his family), but really a lot of this stems from his pride. Falena, for example, honestly might make him look uncool by infantilizing his "baby bro".

Leona doesn't really go out of his way to plan grand gestures (he's not Kalim). If he does anything "big", it's probably like sending Ruggie to your doorstep with fancy flowers and a notecard or something. What he values isn't the "frivolous" stuff, but spending quality time together (even if it's doing nothing in particular). Might still spoil you on, say, special occasions, but he generally dislikes making a big deal of these things.

I think he'd be into you wearing his clothes. It's an easy visual indication that you're intimate enough to do this, but also it cloaks you in his smell so every other beastman in the immediate vicinity also knows you're "marked". Leona tosses his unworn blazer over you, casually saying, "Keep it."

Speaking of!! I think he’d also really like the idea of marking (bites, scratch marks, etc.) or scenting his partner. Just animalistic stuff like that, y’know. I’m sure he could hold himself back if they’re not comfortable with these aspects.

I do believe he has the capacity to be very sappy, but I don't think he'd want to be at this level all of the time. It would probably be limited to private settings and done sparingly, sort of like a treat?? Cuz if he does it too often, then it might lose its "special" feeling, and I also feel like he wouldn't be open to being all squimshy 24/7. Usually his sappiness is sarcastic.

Going to keep it 100 here, he's going to be more vulnerable around you (especially in private), and that means potential traumadumping. That's not to say that he'd do it super frequently to go into full-blown details, but his S/O would be one of the few people he feels comfortable enough with to open about his deepest insecurities and fears. He sometimes needs someone to hear him out, a shoulder to cry on, etc. Of course, he's not going to treat his partner like an unpaid therapist. Leona just... needs some extra support every now and again, reminders that he's doing fine, you know??

IMPORTANT ADDITIONAL NOTES:

Leona being in love would NOT smooth out all the rough edges to his personality. He's not going to white knight/act like you constantly need his protection, he's not going to bend over backwards and do anything and everything his partner asks of him. He still has a will and he can and will disagree or argue if he's opposed to something. He'll still let you handle yourself as needed.

Leona being in love would also NOT magically cure him of his personal issues and struggles. This is also true of the other characters who have deeply rooted trauma, but I feel this point should be included as a reminder anyway. It's of course not his entire personality, but his past experiences will impact how he interprets and reacts to things in present day (hence him being needy/wanting validation, etc.).

Like all relationships (whether romantic or platonic), it would not be flawless. There will be highs and lows, fights and disagreements, etc. This is normal in any relationship; what matters is that you're able to be mature enough to patch things up afterwards and learn from those rough patches.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Love Bombing

Love Bombing - a manipulation tactic a new partner will employ to attract a lover through lavish gifts, excessive attention, and extreme validation.

Signs of Love Bombing

The red flags below represent common signs of love bombing:

Love bombers constantly check in. A love bomber will send many texts to find out where you are when you are apart. This lack of healthy relationship boundaries should signal this person is not a genuine partner.

Love bombers gaslight partners. When you bring up relationship difficulties later on, the love-bombing partner will try to tell you how good they were to you at the start. This red flag is an effort to make you forget about their misgivings.

Love bombers get too close too fast. Romance can be a rush, but more often, it is a slow simmer as two people grow to know and respect each another. A love bomber, however, will dive right in to attract a new partner. They expect you to spend all your time together, which can register as possessive.

Love bombers lavish you with gifts. A love bomber will give you flashy and expensive gifts. These might not be personal; you should note whether the gift they are giving you is something you even like or said you liked, as often it will only be a gesture but not something personalized to your style and liking.

The love-bombing partner will turn on the other person and emotionally abuse them.

Love bombers are often narcissists and less capable than others of experiencing empathy. They aim to maintain power over others in new relationships, which they do via emotional abuse.

This behavior can quickly lead to an unhealthy, toxic relationship.

Love bombing can be complex for people to grasp because, at first, the relationship seems like a fairy tale.

Even from the first date, the love bomber might offer expensive gifts and insist on spending quality time together. This can seem promising, but warning signs will show this person is not a soulmate.

Grand gestures will transform into cruel words and emotional abuse, proving the validation has been a ruse.

The lured-in person might feel confused and hold onto fonder memories, making it hard to leave their partner, who might have a narcissistic personality disorder.

Dangers of Love Bombing

Love bombing can quickly lead to a cycle of abuse.

You might think, even at the beginning of a relationship, you have found “the one” because that person treasures you and makes falling in love feel simple.

Over time, however, that person will become more irritable and pick at your insecurities while simultaneously reminding you of all the good things they’ve done for you.

Even when you experience low self-esteem, the love bomber will make it seem like they are the only one who can care for you.

This can warp your sense of a healthy relationship and make it harder to break up with the person as you might fear them.

Love bombing can also impact your mental health and cause you to normalize abusive behavior.

Examples of Love Bombing

The following scenarios are examples of love bombing:

A boundary-less relationship: You’ve been dating someone who loves to touch you, even in public. You find it cute but sometimes boundary-breaking. Your partner flips out and becomes belligerent when someone else tries to touch you. You feel this person is not really caring for you but instead being possessive of you.

An impersonal relationship: You meet someone who whisks you off for a romantic weekend away. You feel like you are in heaven, but you also notice this person does not ask you personal questions or care about your passions, hobbies, or friends. While this person showers you with gifts, they also start to get moody and blame you for their issues and setbacks.

A rushed relationship: You meet someone online who immediately says you are the best-looking person they’ve ever seen. They insist on meeting as soon as possible and treat you to a nice meal. They then insist you see each other regularly and, over time, begin to put you down and make fun of some of your features or qualities.

How to Avoid Love Bombing

It is essential to know the signs of love bombing to avoid being a victim. Consider the following tips if you feel your new partner might be love-bombing you:

Ask about the person’s past relationships. If the love bomber calls previous partners “crazy” or says, “They were so obsessed with me,” it might very well be a sign your new partner is repeating past behavior.

Discuss your relationship with trusted friends. Voice your relationship concerns to friends and family members if you have doubts. They might articulate concerns, which you should take to heart. Love bombers condition partners to prioritize them, so this process can be challenging. Moving away from this negative energy will ultimately be healing.

Remember your self-worth. You must maintain an independent self in your romantic relationships. If you feel your new partner is taking advantage of you or not valuing your self-respect, it will be time to leave that relationship.

Source ⚜ More: Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[jaegeraether]

Sunsets and footballers (Part 80)

Alexia Putellas x Character (36) - Ridley Part Two

Masterlist (other parts here)

((**8.7k**))

Guess who's back!

(DISCLAIMER: Although I've toned it down a lot, it is still bloody. Gory. Confronting.)

This is PART TWO of TWO for Ridley. You DO NOT have to read this! This is simply me getting out what's been in my head for a while about Ridley and her darker side and military ties. I understand this may be graphic and morally grey for people, though as I said, I've tone it down a lot and have given disclaimers.

Feel free to skip these two Ridley parts as you won't be missing anything in the main story. :)

RIDLEY POV PART 2

Ridley didn’t hesitate for a second. She was moving out of muscle memory with one hand grabbing the assailant's wrist, her cast hand reaching behind her to grab their neck as she simultaneously spun and bodied her attacker into the ground. Once she was on top – she only had one more split second to determine if they were part of Cumar’s crew, and at the identification of that, she drove his own knife into his chest, her hand covering his mouth to avoid loud, alerting sounds.

It was never a nice thing, but it was so common to her now that she knew she wouldn’t lose sleep over it. Even as she watched the light drain from his eyes.

“Injured?” Becks asked.

She knew she had a slight cut from where the knife had grazed across her abdomen just below her vest as she’d spun, though it was barely a thought. “Okay.”

He nodded and grabbed the dead man’s arms. “Wombat, help move him. Fuzzy, scout.”

Fuzzy ducked off into the trees as the two men hid the body in case someone else showed up and found him. They didn’t need any alarms set off.

Ridley had questions but waited until the others returned. In the meantime, the two women kept quiet with their backs to each other, scoping the area. It was enemy territory after all.

In no time, the Becks and Wombat appeared, and they all stayed in that area, getting more irritated at the second at the feeling of staying in one place. That’s what got you killed. But it was only a few minutes before Fuzzy returned shaking his head. “Nada, pack is stashed.” He pointed to the tree and all of them took note of it.

Becks nodded and turned to Duce. “Copy. Why was he here?”

It was a valid question.

“Expected,” she admitted. “I did assume Cumar would have scouts, though I’m very surprised he’s alone.” She looked at Fuzzy. “Nothing? Really?”

“Nothing within a few clicks.”

Becks frowned. They all did. Why was he all alone?

“He’s being punished,” Ridley murmured, and they all paused. She caught Wombat’s eye. Although he hadn’t been captured with her, he did understand where it was coming from. “Cumar. Whenever someone disappoints him, he does this as a way to win back favour. You get sent out to scout alone, and he won’t accept you back unless you bring him the head of an enemy.”

There was a moment of silence amongst them all.

“So… just the one then...” Wombat said, and they all nodded in unison before they started to track north.

Each of them wore a pack now except Fuzzy, and each held with them a close combat rifle, along with their pistols and other weapons. They were allowed to choose which suited them best, though ultimately the M4A5 Carbine was perfect for this task. Only Duce carried an extra and it was a Barrett M82, a sniper rifle. She was the best sniper of the group.

They approached carefully through the trees, their three remaining packs heavily weighing them down and as Fuzzy did, they stashed their packs along the way. They found the first group of Cumar’s men and made quick, light work of them without needing to fire a shot. Although their target was purely the retrieval of the boy, Akeem, they needed to think in advance of their own safety. Should guns start firing at Cumar’s base, the others would come running and they couldn’t allow that. That, and they wanted to stay hidden for as long as possible.

And so, station by station, group by group, they took out his security teams scattered through the trees as quickly and quietly as possible. If they had chained them up, they could escape. If they had left them alive, they could make contact and put them all in danger. So they did what they were trained to do, and tied up loose ends as they moved through the area tactically.

It was the best way to think of it and not get into your head; by thinking of them as just that. Loose ends. Potential threats. It also helped to know what these men had done. They’d beaten, abducted, killed, tortured and raped. In her head, she justified it by knowing many more people would be safe now that they were gone.

As they took out the last of the security camps quickly and quietly, four of them stowed their knives, though Becks had always preferred brute force. As she confirmed with a signal that the others were done, she turned and saw him snap the last man’s neck sideways and up which was a terrifying show of just how strong he was. Becks pulled him into the brush where he wouldn’t be seen and gave his signal to Ridley.

They all knew what was required of them now. The group had cleared their path in, and now the last of the packs needed to be dumped, which was Becks’. Their packs were spread out along their route so far and stored in different positions – all GPS tracked. They contained the necessities to survive in that area. Food, water, electrolytes, medical supplies, navigational aids, weapons and more. It was essentially a supply dump in case they were stranded.

They didn’t fuck around from there, though. They needed to keep moving quickly in case they alerted anyone with an unanswered radio call to one of the groups they’d been through.

They advanced on Cumar’s place now a lot lighter, sporting only their black combat gear which held no identifiable logo. No markings nor brands nor colours that would tie them to any country or division. For all Cumar’s people would know – they were independent mercenaries. For this same reason, the bottom half of their faces were covered, Ridley knowing that if Cumar saw her, he’d known she was Australian SASR. That’s another thing to avoid. A political war.

Cumar’s place was an old prison in the middle of nowhere – inland and southwest of Mogadishu, Somalia. He’d repurposed it from abandoned, and intelligence agencies had only discovered it a few weeks prior, with the involvement of Duce’s team. From here – he was protected by the trees around him as well as the sky. As made obvious by the SEALs – anything that flew over was shot down immediately. On foot was the only method available to them.

As they moved close enough to view the large prison campus themselves, they reached a point of no return. A point, where they couldn’t guarantee they wouldn’t be spotted. A point, where bullets could start firing at any second.

Duce called that point she had estimated as they approached. “P.O.N.R.”

Ridley’s mind kicked into another gear as those letters came through her headset. She could be dead any second, and it made her feel… alive.

They all acknowledged the PONR and continued, warier than ever. They barely made it another 50 metres before-

“Contact!” Fuzzy called, just before the sound of bullets littered the air. Ridley immediately identified the points as two old prison guard towers. Duce, Fuzzy and Wombat took one of the towers out, and Duce set up in it to sniper.

“Tower one down.”

Becks and Ridley took the second tower and left it empty.

“Tower two down,” she called as they assessed their approach path from there. From their position of advancement towards the prison – there was only one more tower in view which would hinder their approach. “Holding due fire. Take the third.”

Duce snipered the third tower which provided enough so that Wombat and Fuzzy could take it out.

“Tower three down. Providing cover.”

As soon as that was called – Becks, Duce and Wombat provided cover from the three towers which hindered the hostiles in the prison walls enough for Ridley and Fuzzy to approach. Gun up, she sprinted, seeing Fuzzy in her periphery. A bullet tore past her arm, grazing the skin and she immediately felt the hot flash and the blood begin to drip.

She didn’t stop. She knew from experience that it wasn’t bad enough to stop. She took aim where it came from and shot the hostile as he leant over the railing. Her shot made a whizzing sound through the air and hit her target directly. She jumped sidewards to avoid his body hitting the ground as she made it to the building, her arm slamming into the wall near the entrance where Fuzzy also arrived. He nodded, out of breath and entered the building, Ridley right behind him. They worked their way through the halls, picking off the hostiles one by one, targeting the face of the building which impeding the entry of the others. Eventually it provided enough relief for the others to enter, and separately, worked their way through the building, targeting the different areas where they thought Akeem may be.

“A-block clear.” Ridley called over the headset.

“B-block clear.” Wombat.

“North courtyard.” The sound of a groan and then a shot. “…clear.” Becks.

“South courtyard clear.” Fuzzy.

“Barracks clear visual.” Duce called. The barracks were outside of the main building and they had agreed to not unnecessary go outside unless it was their last option.

Ridley rounded a corner and the end of her carbine was grabbed and she was wrenched forwards. She immediately ducked from the knife she knew was awaiting her throat and spun, kicking her assailant hard into the wall. She swung her gun to her back and jumped back from the next swing, smacking the knife out of his hand and landing a punch to his abdomen and then jaw in quick succession. An arm came around her neck and grabbed her then, squeezing tight and lifting her from the ground. The man in front of her battered several punches into her ribs while she was immobilised by the second assailant. She managed to swing her body up and kick him in the face, feeling his nose give way as he fell backwards into the wall. Her feet hit the ground as she started to black out from the chokehold, though she found enough energy to leap up and throw her head back into the man behind her.

The man shouted something in Somali and stumbled back into the railing, dragging her with him. She was 30 seconds away from a full black out. A sudden sharp, hot pain hit the side of her thigh, and she grunted in shock. Suddenly, she had a weapon. Ridley kicked the broken-nosed assailant on the floor, ripped the knife from her thigh and slammed it into the neck of the man behind her, feeling the rush of hot blood on the back of her neck and down under her vest. Her cast hand scream in pain as she did so, though she paid it no mind. The assailant behind her dropped and she ripped the knife forwards towards the back of her head, which subsequently tore through his throat.

Ridley snatched her pistol and shot once into the head of the broken-nosed man on the floor in front of her.

“Infirmary clear.” Fuzzy.

“C-block clear.” Wombat.

She stumbled forwards and groaned, grabbing hold of her thigh. It didn’t hit the artery. She put a little pressure on it to feel the blood flow and then took her tourniquet out from her belt and slid it up her leg, tightening it above the entry wound on her outer thigh.

“D-block clear.” Becks.

She gasped as she tightened it and put pressure on her foot to test. Duce hadn’t answered in a while – and she knew exactly where she was originally headed to next. Ridley swung her gun around and did her best to run towards the cafeteria. It was very central in the building, and easily the best defended.

She entered the café to see what she’d expected. Half the room was taken up by supplies. Weapons. Drugs. Guns. Akeem was there, gagged and chain to a pole. Duce was there, bloodied and on her knees with a gun to her head by someone Ridley recognised as Cumar’s son, Bashir. Cumar was in the middle of the group, watching the proceedings. They hadn’t expected Ridley at that moment, though. She put a bullet through each of the guards before stepping into the room. Bashir hesitated his task and as his head spun to her, gun switching from Duce to Ridley, she fired a shot straight through his shoulder.

With a cry, he fell backwards, and Duce was on top of him in seconds, pinning him.

Cumar went to spin and- “DON’T you fucking move.” Ridley warned as she approached.

“Akeem and Cumar located - cafeteria. Two hostiles.” Duce made the call to the team.

Ridley heard shots and footsteps louder and closer. Her eyes didn’t leave Cumar’s. She could tell he was trying to judge if he could spin and grab his gun in time. He took a step back and she took a warning step forward. “Don’t.”

Becks entered the room and paused, waiting for the outcome.

“Not one move. On the ground, hands behind your head!”

Cumar hesitated like his son, his face turning from a sneer to curiosity. “It’s you, isn’t it? The one who escaped?”

His English was quite good for a third language.

Ridley didn’t answer. “On the ground, hands behind your head!”

He muttered something in Somali to Bashir, and she heard her name amongst it.

She took a step forward again, her gun still very much aimed at his chest.

“The one I couldn’t break… Ridley.” He murmured, his eyes lighting up as if he wanted another chance.

He’d sneered in her face. Cut her flesh. Bruised her body. He came back again and again. He wasn’t interested in anything other than pain. He had a sort of fascination with it and justified it as simply trying to get information. He didn’t. Not from her. And when he didn’t, he made her watch as… James…

That was the worse torture she’d ever endured. Not the physical, but the visual. Having to watch her friend take his last breath. A person she’d laughed with, drunk with, opened up to. That was the kind of pain that made her keep her distance from everyone, including Alexia.

“Your friend was breakable though. What was his name again?”

She knew Becks was behind her and could almost read his thoughts. ‘Don’t let him get to you.’

“Don’t hurt him!” Bashir screamed from the ground until Duce gagged him. She held him there, and Ridley could hear him yelling against his gag. Screaming for his father. Together – they were the worst kind of father and son.

“Wings-” Becks started from behind her.

“No.” She responded. He wanted to take the burden of the situation from her shoulders. But she didn’t need him to.

“John?” Cumar continued. “Jim?”

She took a deep breath and took another step forward. “Reach for that gun and I will put a bullet in your heart.”

Although Cumar wasn’t their primary target – he was so high on the UN wanted list, that he was listed only as a shoot to kill.

“Joshua? Jackson?” Another step back towards his gun.

“One more warning. On your knees. Hands behind your head. I will not repeat myself.”

“Oh… that’s right. It was James.” He said his name like he didn’t care, because truly, he didn't.

James with the kind eyes and the bright smile. James, the guy who’d saved her life when she was just starting out in the Airforce. James who had only joined to hide the fact that he was gay, and the only person who knew was Ridley, and Wombat.

A tear pricked at her eye, but she didn’t let it fall. She took a deep breath and without thinking about it – her mind turned to Alexia to calm itself. Alexia. Her skin and her smell. Her style, her laugh, her smile. Her fucking eyes and that freckle on her neck where her lips had been… Ridley’s mind cleared. Her hatred subsided.

“James.” Cumar snapped and spun. When his hand touched the gun, she landed two shots into his chest and watched as his back hit the container of weaponry behind him.

Bashir screamed against his gag and tears ran down his face.

Cumar smirked at her and turned his head towards his son where it lulled to his chest with a final breath.

Ridley stood upright, lowering her gun and felt… relief. So much so that she hadn’t heard Fuzzy enter the room.

“Fuzzy – get the kid,” Becks commanded. “Wombat – you can come in now.”

Becks must have been keeping him out to avoid emotional bias.

Footsteps behind her.

“Wombat – photograph the area. The kid. The weapons. The body. Duce – tie him for transport.”

She watched as Fuzzy untied Akeem who clung to him. Wombat with his locked jaw as he photographed Cumar as evidence he was dead. Duce as she sat Bashir up and tied his arms for transport. His focus was on one thing only – Ridley.

She felt a large hand on her shoulder. “You did excellent.”

“I know,” she replied. She felt strange emotions in the pit of her abdomen at the idea that the mere thought of her Spanish footballer had driven that hatred from her. Had calmed her. “If I hadn’t arrived first, would you have let me in the room – or kept me out like Wombat?”

Becks removed his hand and waited until she turned to look at him. “I trust you above anyone else. I trust your judgement. If you weren’t going to make the right decision, you wouldn’t have entered the room yourself.”

He was right. As usual. His words just reaffirmed what she already knew.

Her eyes swept the room, knowing they needed to move, and quickly. She touched on each of the important areas to memorise for the debrief. Fuzzy was up and ready with Akeem as he put a small vest on him and gave him instruction in Arabic. Wombat was tearing open containers – photographing the evidence. Duce was also standing with her hostage, ready to go. Ridley turned her attention away from Bashir who was still glaring at her – and only her. She’d just replaced an enemy with and enemy.

“He’s not out objective. He’s a large liability and we can’t fly back with the addition of his weight and Akeem’s.” It wasn’t an argument – it was a discussion.

“He’s worth the risk and you know he is. We need to neutralise his influence, and we can’t kill him without an order or as defence.”

She already knew this, but it was her job to question things in order to make good decisions as a group. In their line of work, Bashir would just replace his father and continue to do as he did. If they successfully took him, he’d face an international tribunal and live the rest of his life in prison.

“Agreed. I can get us just back across the border. We can make contact in the air for ground support to meet us and clear the road to land.”

Becks nodded and they relayed the information to the team. “Let’s move.”

As they’d only approached from the south, they hadn’t taken out any of the security camps in any other direction to the prison, and now they were all arriving. They hadn’t been there long though, and still had time to get to the aircraft ahead of them.

The seven of them fled the prison and now, subtlety be damned, took a vehicle and drove it south to the landing strip. Along the way there was gunfire and shots equally back and forth, though they managed to stay ahead with a decent pace.

“Reloading,” Ridley shouted and knelt to the safety of cover as Duce drove like a bat out of hell. Akeem was up front, hiding in the footrest below Fuzzy as Becks held down Bashir and both Wombat and Ridley took the offensive positions from the back.

“Injury status!”

They team shouted their okay’s one by one. Ridley grabbed at her leg which was still seeping fresh blood. “I’ll be okay.”

“Reloading!” Wombat shouted and ducked. Ridley rose to take his position, firing on what she now identified as an entire convoy coming after them. Although it was hard to see in the dark, she knew there must have been hundreds of people. It wasn’t her best Tuesday, but certainly not her worst either.

Ridley felt a large hand grab her thigh and feel around the wound. She groaned, not ready for the pain.

“You’re losing a lot of blood.”

“Very aware of that.”

Becks loosened the tourniquet, and she momentarily felt relief before the searing pain began as the blood began to flow more freely. He tightened it again. “We’ll alert medical in the air. Hang in there, Wings.”

“Coming up on the airfield!”

“Wombat, Fuzzy, take the kid and bail out. Start the pre-flight checks and get the engine running. We’ll double back.”

“Rome-” Wombat started and then saw the state of her leg. He nodded, knowing he’d be quicker on foot than she would in this state.

“Duce?” Becks yelled over the roar of the engine and the sound of shouting and bullets.

“Just around this corner. They’ll be a few hundred metres from the strip and we can double back using the F-track.”

The one they’d identified during prep.

“Copy. Get the brake lights.”

Wombat and Ridley leant over and smashed the brake lights.

“Get ready to jump, lads!”

Becks and Ridley took to cover fire and as the road turned tightly and Duce hit the brakes to slow them enough for Wombat and Fuzzy to jump out, pulling a terrified Akeem with them. As soon as they were out, she hit the accelerator again. Ridley could only see them in the dark long enough to see Wombat’s hand raised in acknowledgement of their safe landing.

Duce drove them to the F-track, which was a trail almost invisible in the dark. She managed to get far enough ahead to take a quick 360 spin into the darkness and turn the lights off as she sped backwards behind the scrub. They stayed low and quiet, Becks holding Bashir to stop him from writhing about as they watched the vehicles rush past them, still firing into the darkness. They only needed to buy themselves five minutes to get the plane into the air safely.

Lights off, they drove up the track slowly which almost parallelled the road they were just on and made a judgement call to rejoin the road in the other direction when they couldn’t see any more speeding vehicles. It was a public road – after all.

They turned and drove into the trees as far as they could before the terrain forced them to abandon the vehicle. They took to foot from there, moving in unison towards where they knew the aircraft was.

Just as they saw the aircraft, there was a slight pang of relief, though Ridley knew they were far from safe. She locked her jaw as she ran with a limp, her good hand on her gun to stop it from bouncing, and her cast hand on her tourniquet to ensure it wouldn’t unwind. Blinding pain, with each step. She hobbled behind, watching Becks half carry, half drag Bashir in front of her.

‘You deserve this for what you did to Alexia.’ She thought. It was meant to be a playful thought to ease the pain, though it did hit her hard.

She felt the bullet whizz past her head before she heard it firing. And then the sound of ATVs.

“Contact!”

Wombat started the engine and Fuzzy held the canopy open, taking aim at the hostiles. Duce made it to the aircraft first, being the lightest. She hopped in and took up a cover position with Fuzzy. Becks was hit through the shoulder and fell, clutching it. Ridley stopped to grab him.

“M.. okay.” Was all he said. They both turned to get Bashir who was already on his feet and running in the opposite direction. He wasn’t worth it.

“Go!” Becks called. Wombat pushed the throttle forward and the plane began to move. Ridley sliced the rope tied to a branch just above eyesight and Fuzzy’s pack dropped down. He always loved to hide them in the treetops, and they’d need the medical supplies for both her and Becks.

Becks leapt onto the wing and Fuzzy dragged him inside by the shoulder strap of his vest. With a heave, Ridley threw the pack into the aircraft and leapt onto the wing, grabbing at Duce’s extended hand. Before she was pulled in, blood spattered her face at a bullet hitting Duce’s extended arm. She yelled and recoiled it on instinct. Ridley pushed herself onto her knees and felt a bullet slam directly into her back, knocking her forward off the wing. She barely missed the propeller as she fell, pulling her arm in to avoid the landing gear. She gasped and clutched her headgear, grateful that it took the blow of her weight onto the ground.

Winded, she pushed herself to her feet and began hobbling along the landing strip. She saw Wombat hesitate, but Cumar’s men were just too close.

“GO!” She yelled through her headset. She saw the devastation on their faces. The aircraft was too far away from her now and they all knew that if they waited for her, they’d be caught, or a bullet would tear into a fuel tank. “…Wombat – go. That’s an order.”

Becks grabbed Fuzzy’s pack and threw it from the aircraft for her, and as she didn’t slow her run as she grabbed it and swung it onto her back, grateful.

The sound of ATVs came closer, one in particular. Ridley ran as fast as she could in the pain she was in, watching as Wombat pushed the throttle all the way forward.

‘That’s it, then,’ she thought, as she heard the single ATV leading the others approaching her.

Just before the canopy on the aircraft closed, a single bullet was fired from Duce’s rifle, hitting the ATV rider in the head. Ridley spun to watch as he flopped off, and it came to a halt. She made the decision to backtrack and take it.

“Thank you,” she strained into her headset, knowing that Duce have just given her a chance at survival.

“Come back to us,” Duce replied, emotionally, which was very unlike her.

“My note..”

“We’ll be waiting for you to come tear it up.”

Ridley swung up onto the ATV and hit the throttle. She blindly shot behind her and drove laterally across the strip to fire more accurately at the oncoming vehicles – to provide cover for her team. As the aircraft passed the treetops and she knew they were safe, she holstered her gun and ducked to give less of her body a chance of being shot at – and accelerated as fast as she could through the trees.

Was this it? Was this how she died? She wondered at her note. Every mission they went on – they each wrote a note to friends, family, loved ones. It tied up all loose ends and said whatever they wanted it to say. There was a rule that the rest of the group had to follow the instructions on the note – should they not make it back. James’ had left instructions for Wombat and Ridley to tell his crush that he loved him, to tell his family that he was sorry, and also requested that the pair wore the gayest clothes they could find to his funeral. As is the way – they did just that. And they cried, in the most flamboyant dresses anyone had ever seen.

Her note… Alexia. No one would read it until they knew she was never coming back. It was private, and they respected each other, though she did wonder as to their reactions. Leaving most of her things to Blue… except the house in Barcelona, London, and Chiquito. That was all Alexia’s.

She’d fumbled over the words for a while until she settled on simplicity.

*Tell her that I love her and that some things can’t be replaced. Tell her she is that for me...and always will be.*

The words she wrote had dragged the truth from her. She loved Alexia. She loved her.

She chanted those words in her head as she ducked and weaved through the trees. She drove until she ran out of fuel, and abandoned it, settling to go on foot from there. She hobbled along, gasping for breath and starting to get faint from the lack of blood. She didn’t even want to see the state of her back, and knew even though she was wearing a vest, the bullet had done damage to her ribs.

When she knew she couldn’t possibly continue in that state, she stopped at a tree suitable to spend some time and did just that. Taking the tree climbing spikes from the pack and attaching them to her boots, using the claws in her hands, she climbed. It was difficult with the pack, but she’d reserved enough energy for it. This is why she stayed so fit. Survival.

She settled onto a branch tall enough to not be spotted easily, and tied herself there, in case she fainted or fell asleep. Taking the medical supplies out, she was finally able to tend to her wounds as best as she could, knowing that she’d need another surgery on her hand if she ever made it out. Her leg… was another story. She bit on her packaged bandage while she packed the wound, and then used the bandage to strap it. With this, she could loosen the tourniquet.

After a little water and food, she felt herself drifting and knew not to fight it. She took a small nap in the tree, and when she woke, she planned. She took out her tablet and located her tracker, seeing where she was. During her planning, several men and ATVs passed below her, yelling about her. One of the men was Bashir, now bandaged up and leading the manhunt.

She couldn’t go down the coast as they controlled the water. Their ATVs were hunting offroad. They had checkpoints along the main road. Her best option was an airstrip nearby. They couldn’t see it from their satellite images and so they’d brushed it aside as an unlikely possibility, though there was still hope. If she could find an aircraft, any aircraft, she could get out. She just needed to cross the border.

It was several clicks inland of where she was, and she’d need to cross the road, but she could make it if she was careful, and lucky. Very, very lucky.

When she sounds of men and vehicles around her had subsided enough, she climbed back down from the tree and started to move, highly alert that she was in enemy territory. A few times, she needed to stop and drop or find a ditch to lay low in and simply pray. Pray to a god she didn't believe it.

She crossed the road and after a few clicks of terror, she happened upon the field. That’s basically what it was, a field. It was just as wide as if was long which meant she’d be spotted much easier. As with every airfield, she found a hangar and crept around the back to peer through the window. She spotted a little Cessna inside guarded by two men. Bashir was smart. He must have sent them to hide inside, knowing she may try to escape like that. Though he must have been very stretched for manpower, covering the large area they were hunting her in. He’d have men at the boats, the jetties, the checkpoints, the multiple search parties, even back at the prison in case she dared risk returning. This made her feel confident that they were alone, and by the looks of them, they didn’t expect her at all.

She took a breath and stepped inside through the back entrance. They were fully grown men with guns, yet they were not nearly as trained and experienced as she was. Ridley took them both down without having to fire a single bullet to aware anyone of where she was. She dragged them to the back of the hangar and checked over the aircraft, removing the covers and testing the flight controls. Using the step and handle, she groaned her pain as she pulled herself up far enough to check the fuel levels in the wings. They weren’t full, but with only her weight, she dared that it would get her to Mandy Bay.

Without wasting time, she unloaded all the excess weight of manuals, chocks, supplies from the aircraft and left her unnecessary pack items there also. This was it. She was going to risk taking off.

Ridley pulled the hangar doors open as slowly and as soundlessly as possible, enough to be able to pull the aircraft outside. From engine start up, she needed to go. She didn’t have time for checks. Before jumping into the aircraft, she listened around. She could hear cars close on the road, ATV’s a few clicks away, and some rustling in the trees with a little wind.

Hopping in, she primed the engine and took a deep breath. Opening the throttle a quarter inch, she started the engine and threw the mixture to full. Once the engine roared to life, she taxied the little four-seater to where she needed it, applying much more throttle than necessary to heat up the oil. The last thing she needed was the engine to seize. God knows how long it had been sitting there for.

Ridley looked around her and spotted lights coming through the trees as she sat, ready for take-off. She took as long as she dared to heat the engine up before she couldn’t wait any longer.

She applied full throttle, pulled the steering column back and took her feet off the brakes, hurtling down the field, bumping along the way.

Oil temperature in the orange. Airspeed alive. 30 knots. 40. 50. 60 – “Rotate.” She called out of habit as she pulled back. She heard gunfire behind her and chose to focus on her attitude indicator instead. She went lights out and pitched up as much as she could without stalling – to climb as fast as possible away from the bullets. The climb performance was atrocious, and so she also chose to not bank any direction for the simple reason that she didn’t want to present more aircraft for them to shoot at. Passing 3000ft, she turned and saw the lights flooding the field she was just in. She continued to climb, darting inland to gain height before risking a move across to track down the coast. She was tense the entirety of the way, watching her temperatures and the lights of the vehicles swarming around the ground to her right. She had no idea how she’d not been caught with the sheer amount of them.

They were like ants, except worse. They killed and stole and raped and took what didn’t belong to them. Cumar was dead. But she feared that without Bashir in custody – they’d just created a whole new animal.

She flew with lights out until she’d passed the border, and her tension eased a little. So much, in fact, that her thigh, hand, and back began to throb with pain and she became faint as her adrenaline subsided.

Without a headset, she was unable to make any radio calls, though she knew her team would be tracking her GPS and stand down the jets as she came in to land. The reliable Cessna was all but running on fumes as she landed around 0330, finally back on friendly soil.

Ridley taxied the aircraft over near the jets and half-faint, still managed a chuckle at the image of a small Cessna next to jets worth over 100 million dollars each. She stopped where the crowd had formed, and watched her team run over as she pulled the mixture out and shut the engine down.

Ridley didn’t even have to open her door and step out. Becks all but ripped the doorframe out as Wombat dragged her from the aircraft.

Hugs.

Kisses.

Grateful words.

Tears.

She felt her crew all help to carry her to an awaiting stretcher where she was led into the medical tent for assessment.

She was stitched up, patched up, given fluids and food. Her team came in with their General and a man in a suit as she was eating.

“Wings, this is Aamir. His son is Akeem.”

Aamir looked like a kind man, truly. He shook her hand and let them all know just how grateful he was for saving his son. He offered them the world. Anything they wanted. Being a billionaire, his favour was a great thing to have, and she knew that they’d gained that for life.

Ridley replied to him as much as she could in her weary state. Becks murmured some words to him and he nodded, leaving the group alone with their General. Together, they debriefed. Ridley ended it with her happenings, and he seemed much more than satisfied. With the death of Cumar came relief, and an offer of an award to her for her bravery and success in taking down someone the world had been trying to find for decades.

‘It was all luck,’ she thought to herself, though smiled and accepted the kind offer.

After he left, Becks handed Ridley her note. Her team looked at her eagerly. She went to tear it and found herself pausing – instead holding it to her chest. “I think I’ll keep it…” she murmured.

They knew better than to argue against that. In fact, they smiled.

At 0445 Ridley found herself outside, looking up at the stars and wishing for peace. This was her life. She looked over at Akeem entering his dad’s private jet and smiled as he stopped to wave at her. He was a brave kid.

“Headed home?” Becks asked as he sidled up next to her.

“I’m not sure,” she murmured.

“It’s a simple decision, no?”

She turned to look at him curiously. He was usually exceptionally quiet, so it was easy to know when he had something he wanted to say. He smiled at her look and gestured to the jet. “Aamir is happy to take you to London. If you leave soon, you’ll get there before she leaves.”

Her heart leapt. Alexia. He knew. How? She was leaving? Why?

Her thoughts scattered across her face, and she was too tired to hide them. “How…?”

He knocked his shoulder gently into hers. “I keep tabs on you. On all of you. You know this.”

It was how he cared. How he loved.

“I won’t tell you what to do, because I respect you too much. You make your own decisions. But what I will say is that you keep going back. You always gravitate back towards her. She makes you happy. I never thought you’d find anyone… hell, I don’t think any of us expect to ever find anyone. You’re the lucky one. And you’d be doing us all a disservice if you didn’t try to have what we all want.”

She caught her emotions in her throat. Of course he knew everything. He loved his team like his family. More so, even. “How do you know I’m not trying?”

He looked back at the jet he was staring at before. “You arrive late and dishevelled, wearing a hardened Ridley façade I haven’t seen in years. Trying too hard to cover those emotions. You left her.”

“She’s better off-”

“Without you?” He turned to her again. “Tell me – did you give her a choice before you left?”

She froze. She… hadn’t. She’d given her every single choice except that one.

‘But you did it for her,’ she thought.

“And don’t even tell me you did it for her,” he said, annoying Ridley with his intelligence.

“She’s… public. You know we need to fly under the radar.”

“Wings, you know you don’t fit into that category. Yes, you need to stay low. But you know how to protect yourself, and her. You can do it all at once. You don’t lack in that department. Most people need their time to dissociate. You’re all Ridley, all at once. The soldier, the protector, the lover. You don’t split them like everyone else does. It’s you. That’s what makes you different.”

It was the most he’d ever complimented her, and that's exactly how she took it all – as a compliment. She was whole.

“I’d put her in danger…”

Becks scoffed, and it’s the first time in her life that she’d ever heard him do so. “There is no better protection than you. And us. That is no excuse to not try.”

She lowered her head into her hands and grabbed at her hair. “How can someone like her… someone as fucking perfect as her deserve someone as fucking.. fucking.. broken and horrible as I am?” She raised her head and looked him in the eyes. “Huh? I’ve fucking slaughtered people like animals.”

“Those people were animals. You did what no one else could. That’s why we do what we do. To save everyone else. To do the things they can’t. We hurt ourselves and taint our souls so they will sleep well at night. That’s loyalty. That’s patriotism. That’s love.”

It was the most Becks had ever opened up. The most he’d ever said at one time.

That’s love.

He handed her a tablet with an open screen. “They’ve booked tickets back to Barcelona at 2pm. If you leave now, you’ll arrive just in time given the headwind. I’ve upgraded them to first class and forced the deadhead crew onto the next flight.”

Ridley stared down at her name on the tablet. “She shouldn’t take me back after what I’ve done to her.”

He smiled and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “That’s how you’ll know she’s the one for you. She won’t just let you back in with open arms. She’ll make you work for it.” Ridley rolled her eyes. “Trust me. I know you, Wings.”

They both sighed and looked up at the stars again. Somehow, he’d forced her to accept herself and how she felt. She deserved to be loved.

Saying her goodbyes to her team with lingering hugs, she boarded the private jet and as she always did – she headed towards Alexia.

She was fed well on the plane and managed to shower, catch some sleep, and even dress into some clothes Duce had given her. They landed 30 minutes before Alexia’s plane was due to depart which gave her just enough time to tell the ground crew to standby on her luggage and on Chiquito.

Would she come with her? Would she even want to see her?

Ridley made her way to the gate and saw the flash of her blonde hair and that familiar frown on Alexia’s face as she passed into the airbridge. Her heart leapt into her throat.

Ridley avoided the line and went around the desk.

“Five minutes,” she murmured to the familiar woman at the gate, touching her shoulder on the way past. The woman smiled at her and nodded. She knew her.

On board, she gave a knowing nod to the cabin crew before making her way to first class, where she knew Alexia was seated. Her stomach fluttered as she watched her tighten her seatbelt and change a song on her phone. She sighed and her expression was… heartbroken. Ridley had done this to her.

Her feet moved towards her automatically, her eyes only for the Spaniard.

Ignoring the pain in her thigh and back, she knelt in front of her, holding back the urge to touch her.

Alexia’s entire body froze in surprise. Her expression flickered to wonder. Worry. Pain again. Those hazel eyes darted from her eyes to her hair, neck, lips, scar, and back to her eyes. Ridley reached up slowly, ignoring her painful ribs, and pulled Alexia’s noise cancelling headphones down and around her neck gently, hoping she wouldn’t shy away from her.

“La Reina..” “Ridley..” Alexia breathed, almost without words it seemed. There were a few moments of silence as they just stared at each other, talking without words. Alexia unclipped her belt suddenly and leant forward, closer to her. So close she could almost taste her… Ridley locked her jaw and hoped she wouldn’t see the bruises, nor the blood beginning to seep from her wound through her pants. “You left,” she whispered in a voice that betrayed her hurt. “I did.” “You fucking left, Ridley.” Anger. Ridley nodded, leaning forwards… just needing to be close to her. “I’m sorry, Lex.” Her fingertips brushed Alexia’s hair from her cheek and just that small touch send shivers down her spine. “I need to say something, if you’d let me.” A pause. “Go ahead.” “I ran… I ran, and I’m sorry. You deserve better.” She needed to open up and be vulnerable. Becks all but told her this. “Lex… you can’t understand how torn I am… how conflicted. Half of me wants you to leave and find happiness elsewhere, away from me, so I don’t taint your beautiful soul with my darkened one. The other half begs for you, yearns for you, dreams about you and selfishly wants you close to me, always.” “You always said that you weren’t good for me, but I never believed you. I still don’t.” Her eyes told Ridley that she was telling the truth. Ridley sighed and looked down in shame. “I feel like I’m not good for anybody, and I didn’t want to put that burden on you for simply loving me. I went away and couldn’t stop my thoughts. I was conflicted. But amongst my confliction, I missed one very important thing. I didn’t give you a choice.” She looked up at her again, mirroring Becks’ words and thinking on her past 24 hours. “My soul is tainted, Lex. I’ve done horrible things that I’ll regret for the rest of my life. But I also know that I’ve never felt about anyone, the way I feel about you. You’ll always be safe with me, whether it’s physically, mentally, financially… I’m still working on the emotionally part. You bring far too much out of me in that regard.” She watched as Alexia’s lips trembled.

A flight attendant tapped Ridley’s shoulder. “Boarding is almost finished.”

Ridley nodded. “I’ll be two minutes.” She turned back to Alexia; her eyes open to her emotions. “Lex, meeting you broke a spell I’ve been under for a long time. Meeting you made me realise that maybe I was worthy of love after all. You took up space in my heart before I even knew it, and now, it seems you’re there to stay. I feel sorry for the Ridley before you because she didn’t realise how much love and happiness she was missing without you. You’ve changed me forever, and I’ll happily spend the rest of my life trying to thank you.” She cupped her cheek and stroked it with her thumb. “Regardless of if you want to stay or go…” Ridley was giving her what she’d unknowingly denied her before. A choice.

Alexia’s trembled and leant down, her hands touching her, and her cheek pressed against her own. She feel of her skin against her own sent a wave of peace she’d never known through Ridley’s body. “I’m damaged..” she whispered against Alexia’s cheek. Her last, fleeting attempt to dissuade her. “You’re human…” Alexia replied softly against hers, nudging it a little. “I’m broken.” Alexia’s hand gently moved down and rested over her heart. “You feel whole to me.” Whole… whole with her. Ridley’s hands found Alexia’s wrists and gripped on, wanting to keep her right there. Wanting her close.

Alexia’s lips brushed up her cheek, over her temple and to her forehead where she gave a single, passionate kiss. Much more than she deserved. “I’m right here.” Ridley felt a shiver run down her spine at that reassurance. Alexia’s large hands were either side of her jaw now, her cheek resting against her eyebrow. Ridley let them rest like that for what felt like an age, and not long enough at the same time. Eventually and fully against every fibre of her being, Ridley pulled back and found her eyes again, her expression distraught.

Alexia blinked an emotion, and her lips parted.

“I’m sorry I ran,” Ridley whispered. “It’s okay.” “It’s not. Not at all. Now the choice is yours, Lex.”

Alexia paused to think before she spoke. “I want you, Lee. In every single way. But relationships are a two-way street, and they start with us as individuals. I want you. I lov-“ She stopped herself and Ridley sucked in a breath just as she did. They loved each other. Alexia loved her. “I… but right now you need to find that part of you that doesn’t believe you deserve to be loved, and you need to learn to love yourself. To know in your heart that you deserve to love and be loved.. because you do. You fucking do. You deserve the world.”

Ridley’s face almost betrayed her relief she’d been harbouring since her conversation with Becks. He’d said that if she was right for her, she wouldn’t let her back in easily. Ridley hardened her face to neutral, trying to hide that it was what she wanted to hear. “You’re… right.” Alexia leant forward again, and kissed her on the forehead. “I know. And I truly hope you can find that, because you deserve to have the love of your life.” She pulled back. “Is there any hope for us?” Please be hope. Please. “If you can learn to love yourself, and promise me that you’ll stay. That you won’t run away again. That you’re ready to move forwards, together.” Ridley paid close attention to her words. “I need you to be here for me, like I am for you. I need security.” “How will you know that I’m ready?” Alexia smiled. “You’ll fight for me. For us.” Ridley tried to hide her smile. Becks had been right. “Until then… can we be friends?” “Friends who love each other, yes. Yes, please. I’d like that.” Ridley knew she needed to fight for her. To not leave her again. To show her she was in it. “Hm.” Ridley looked over her shoulder and gestured to the flight attendant who came by. “No change to the manifest. Please stand the ground crew down. Leave the baggage and pet on board.” She nodded with a smile and left.

“You’re leaving Chiquito with me?” “I can’t take him away from you..” “He’s yours.” “I think you’ll find that he’s ours now.” Alexia failed to hide a look of unfiltered joy. “We can share him…” Ridley smiled and Alexia’s eyes went straight to her lips and then her cheek. She reached out and touched her scar. “Deal.” She agreed. Ridley tried to look as normal as possible as she rocked back on her heels, ignoring the almost unbearable pain, and stood. “Goodbye, Alexia.”

Alexia caught her arm as she went to turn, and pulled her back down, their faces close enough to share their first kiss. The thought certainly crossed her mind. “Ridley?” “Yes?” “Don’t leave again. Fight for me. Fight for us.” Ridley’s pride crept up. She leant over to clip her belt up, pulling it tight across her hips and wondering at how good she looked strapped up. Her thumb found those lips she couldn’t stop thinking about, and traced them softly. “I will. Do you know why?” Alexia’s eyes widened, and she shook her head against her thumb. “Because you’re fucking mine, Alexia.”

[princessjojo-x]

Virgo Mars

💝 he navigates emotional & physical intimacy with considerable caution. initially he’ll pay close attention to her but won’t approach her directly. he behaves shy & reserved due to fear of making a mistake. some women misinterpret his reserved demeanour as disinterest & passivity, whilst other women perceive his meek nature as appealing & refreshing (very cutesy, very demure).

💝 due to his tendency to analyse & overthink, he hyper-fixates on details others would overlook. he carefully observes her features, mannerisms, reactions, gestures, habits, etc. eventually he becomes irritated by her flaws & loses attraction to her all together. he expects a certain level of perfection & most women can’t meet his near-impossible expectations, leading to connections that are often short-lived.

💝 he values fair & balanced rxships built on mutual respect & shared effort. he’s not seeking a power imbalance & he doesn’t have a hunger for control. however, he unintentionally becomes the dominant partner due to his reliable & diligent nature. his love language centers on being useful & helpful; his partner needing & valuing him is his ultimate affirmation of love. he feels most comfortable & fulfilled in roles where he’s of service (problem solver, attentive caretaker, thoughtful strategist). consequently, he may gravitate towards imperfect & meek partners whom have an underdog status (prostitutes, convicts, wastrels). he’d gain satisfaction from fixing & nurturing her. he’ll always be her special person & she’ll always depend on him (rescuer fantasy).

💝 you can trust that whatever happens between you two will stay between you two - he’s the furthest thing from the kiss-&-tell type. he feels no need to broadcast his interests or conquests bc he values privacy & discretion in all areas of life. he wont divulge details to others abt the women he’s interested in or intimate with. he keeps his personal affairs tightly guarded bc he doesn’t treats romance as a spectacle. he perceives intimacy as personal & meaningful, not a topic for public discussion or external validation.

💝 sex is not an important part of his life. he can easily remain celibate for a longtime without feeling unfulfilled. he likely lost his virginity later than his peers bc he wasn’t in a rush to experience it.

💝 he seeks to be lightly dominated by his partner yet he doesn’t respond well to raw aggression or chaotic intensity. he’ll attempt to activate her assertive side by talking back, testing boundaries, ignoring orders, cheeky remarks & so on. she needs to reply with a calm & controlled response rather than an emotional & hostile reaction. he wants her to be firm & composed simultaneously, which can be difficult for fire sign women, who are sensitive & defensive by nature.

💝 although he’s excited by the idea of her taking the lead, his natural inclination to take responsibility outweighs.he’s the epitome of ‘lady in the streets, freak in the sheets’ bc beneath his composed exterior lies a sensual lover. he thrives on the satisfaction of seeing her respond to his passionate efforts. his determination to please & improve indicates he’s willing to learn & adapt purely for her fulfilment. he caters to her unique needs & desires with precision & care. his impressive stamina allows him to sustain the fun for as long as needed.

💝 he’s not jumping for the spotlight & has no desire to dominate space. he’s content remaining in the background due to his reserved nature. unfortunately he channels this understate energy into his romantic approach too; if you’re expecting showy & flamboyant gestures you’ll probably be left disappointed.

💝 he internalises stress instead of expressing it, causing others to perceive him as unaffected & detached. he acts like nothing is a big deal bc he struggles with emotional vulnerability.

💝 he adheres to structured habits & daily routines with little deviation bc he finds immense comfort in predictability & familiarity. he tends to gravitate toward what’s known & reliable (his favorite places & people). he doesn’t seek out adventure or travel bc it lacks order & control. new environments & unpredictable experiences can feel more draining than invigorating. spontaneous last-minute plans can feel disruptive rather than exciting.

💝 he exudes a quiet irritation when others are in his space bc he believes it increases the likelihood of mistakes which he’ll inevitably feel compelled to fix. his drive for perfection makes him resistant to delegation bc he trusts his own meticulous process far more than anyone else's questionable efforts. whilst his intentions are rooted in improving outcomes & avoiding chaos, his approach can unintentionally alienate those around him, who may feel judged or inadequate in his presence.

💝 his ego is deeply tied to perfectionism meaning he’s highly sensitive to criticism & anxious abt meeting expectations. he needs to be handled gently & reminded he’s good enough.

💝 women are attracted to his high work ethic until they become the task on his “to micromanage” list.

Turn On’s & Off’s:

💝 he’s physically attracted to: toned & slender physiques, delicate facial features, minimal makeup, light & floral clothing, uniforms (specifically healthcare).

💝 he approaches intimacy methodically & thoughtfully. he deeply values subtlety & patience. he seeks an effortless & natural connection, with a gradual build up & measured interactions. too much direct pursuit or intensity can make him withdraw bc he dislikes being rushed or pressured within romantic contexts. if you seek constant reassurance & persistently chase him, he’ll become uncomfortable & resistant. if you suffocate him with frequent texts & calls, he’ll retreat from you even further. don’t corner him with impulsive & overt gestures or forced & eager pursuits. don’t overwhelm him with vulgar & aggressive displays of sexuality. he appreciates a partner who is subtly seductive rather than overtly provocative. give him the space he needs to feel at ease. match his grounded energy & steady pace. he’s more likely to reciprocate affection & engage deeply if you make him feel relaxed & respected.

💝 his partners may be older & experienced bc he’s attracted to authoritative & reliable women. he perceives disordered & careless behaviour as a deal breaker. messy lifestyle & bad punctuality will drive him away. he respects discipline & moderation - diet, career exercise, education etc.

💝 he appreciates a clean environment to set the mood & a flawed presentation can easily turn him off - dirty nails, unbrushed hair, untidy bedroom, etc.

💝 he’s equally turned off by rudeness, harshness, nitpicking, complaining (despite him possessing these traits himself).

💝 he likes consistent effort & strong communication. he dislikes one night stands or casual s3x.

💝 since this placement is ruled by mercury, the planet of communication, auditory stimulation plays a significant role in his arousal. you can intoxicate him via: moaning, gasping, whimpering & begging.

💝 he enjoys positions that allow for deep connection & control (cow girl & anal).

💝 the stomach is his erogenous zones (belly rubs).

[blackjackkent]

Into the sewers, which have definitely seen better days.

In keeping with the rather animalistic side of Rakha's nature as represented by the Urge, I tend to think that she has pretty sensitive hearing and smell. (Her perception isn't high numerically, so I don't think she picks up on a lot of specifics, but she does get very strong overall impressions. So a place like this, which definitely smells awful, is pretty unpleasant.)

So she's not really in a good mood. Luckily, it's not a long walk to the entrance to the Guildhall.

It is a little amusing to me that this door is marked as forbidden, when you can (as I learned with Hector) pick it and open it with nobody seeming to care, and ALSO (as I learned just now with Rakha) smash it down, and nobody seems to care about that either.

There are definitely other entrances to this area elsewhere in the Lower City, as well, but taking the nearest manhole seems like the most logical option since this is Rakha's top priority at present.

I think Rakha finds the Guildhall a little bit of a relief. It's quieter than the city above - less noise, fewer people, and consequently less simultaneous murder urges for her to fight down. It also smells much better than the sewers. So she decides to take a little bit of a wander around, since no one seems to have an immediate problem with her presence.

There's a lot of brief conversations to be had here and most of them aren't tremendously interesting. There are, however, a few things of interest to Rakha, as well as a few conversations I don't remember encountering previously.

We'll start with this one. Rakha has drifted over to the corner where a bard is playing, watching the swirling Weave around the melodies, when this woman speaks up unprovoked from nearby:

"Eyes off the barkeep, new blood. He and I, we're a thing. Were a thing. Will *be* a thing again."

Rakha has already met the barkeep in question - a bugbear, who seemed decently friendly but not anything to write home about. She isn't entirely sure what the woman means by a thing, and answers cautiously and noncommittally in the hopes of getting more information. "Why aren't you... a thing... right now?"

"We're just... taking a breather," the woman says forlornly. "A short one. Only... I don't know why he broke things off. He said he had to - that Nine-Fingers forbade our love - but... well, I'm fairly certain she doesn't know I exist."

She looks up at Rakha hopefully. "Perhaps... he'll open up to you? He's such a soft heart, really connects with his customers! You'll see!" A pause, and then her eyes narrow suspiciously. "But NO funny business!"

Rakha has to take a moment to parse this. She means a romantic relationship - with the bugbear. And she's asking for help to re-establish it.

Hard to say exactly why Rakha agrees. Perhaps it's mere whim. Perhaps Wyll finds the whole thing romantic and encourages her to support it. Perhaps, deep down, she has a certain sympathy for people in love with those the world would call monsters.

Anyway she goes back over to the bar. The bartender's answer is, unfortunately, decidedly unromantic:

"What's going on between you and Cheeky Nora? She seems rather... eager."

"Gah. Nora's what you call an M-F. The M stands for Monster. Let's just say I ain't that type."

OK. First of all - valid. No one wants to feel like they're being fetishized. Second of all - Rakha is now irritated, because she now feels like she looks like a bit of an idiot.

(And, perhaps, deep down, the part of her that briefly saw something of herself in this little moment is rather disheartened.)

-----

"Are you an M-F, then?" she asks Wyll bluntly as they trudge back across the hall.

Wyll starts. "Am I-- excuse me?"

A pause. "Some would call me a monster."

Wyll frowns. "Oh. No-- no, no, no. No. Definitely not." A slight pause. "I love you."

He lowers his voice a little, not wanting to hear Minthara's commentary from behind him - but to his relief, Jaheira (who grew well-practiced at redirecting Minsc during tender moments between Caden and Aerie) has caught the tone of the conversation and drawn the drow back out of earshot.

Rakha is quiet for a little while. The two of them have not really used the word love very often; it feels too big and overwhelming to her, really, and she herself has not said it at all yet, even though she knows she feels it. But Wyll has, and he always sounds sincere.

"Because you're you," he goes on earnestly. "All of you, not just one part, whatever that part might be." He smiles a little. "Or did you think I was simply out looking for the only Bhaalspawn in the world and happened to get lucky?"

She relaxes slowly - not having even realized she was beginning to tense up. "Ah. No. Of course not," she says, but there's relief in her voice to hear it anyway.

-----

"Have you spoken to Severn yet?" the woman asks eagerly as Rakha approaches again.

"I have. You two aren't meant to be," Rakha says shortly.

"But... what do you mean?! He didn't *say* that!" the woman wails, agitated.

(A/N: Okay. Listen. Hear me out. Rakha doesn't have MUCH of a sense of humor, nor does she usually take deception checks. However, she's irritated at this woman now because of how this set of conversations has played out, and none of the other options are particularly Rakha-ish either, and I am only human and think this is hilarious.)

Rakha looks her straight in the eyes. [DECEPTION] "It's me," she says, in the flattest deadpan in Faerun. "Severn and I are in love."

At her side, Wyll makes a sudden inarticulate choking noise. Jaheira snickers. Even Minthara cracks a faint smile.

Somehow, the woman apparently takes this as a sincere statement of fact, because her eyes go wide and she flares with sudden righteous anger.

"You back-stabbing minx!" She glares daggers at Rakha. "I suppose you want to fight now, heh? Bathe in one another's blood in Severn's name?"

She doesn't realize how dangerous this particular set of words are, because the beast in Rakha's head would, indeed, like that very much, and she starts getting a very uncomfortable smile on her face.

(A/N: On anyone else this would absolutely be considered a shit-eating grin, and independent of context it's actually the nicest smile I've ever seen on Rakha's face. But in this context, there's no way it's not the beast getting revved up for a kill.)

And perhaps it's that smile, or the general air of sudden danger emanating from Rakha's whole body, but the woman immediately changes tacks and backpedals a few steps.

"Perhaps for someone else, I would!" she goes on haughtily. "But my love for Severn is pure. Unsullied by violence." Then, perhaps feeling that this is not enough to keep Rakha from following her, she digs hastily in her pocket. "Here. I was saving this, to woo him. But it doesn't matter now, does it?"

She backs up another few steps, then manages another irritated glare as she departs. "He can't see a good thing when he has it!"

And with this parting shot she disappears into the hall's lower levels.

(A/N: The ring in question is 18-gold trash loot. I'm giving it to Jaheira to keep in her pack because its description mentions that it's Calishite in origin and I'm a rank sentimentalist. :P )

[chiarrara]

megumi for this please :3 (i wouldve sent him even if u sidnt say to btw also whebever i see him i register him first as ur boy like seriously oh look megumi thats chias boyo)

hiiii willow!! thank you so much, i'm so honored?? he is my boy frfr (y'all heard that, i'm claiming him)

How I feel about this character

okay so the way I feel about megumi is like the way it feels the moment before you accidentally touch a hot plate or a burner on the stove, and the warmth hits your skin before you accidentally bump the metal and get burnt. where the warning signal comes too late but the afterthought that gets buried right away when the pain hits is this feeling of comfort and curiosity bubbling up from somewhere you can't see. he's like that, and like the feeling of chasing that moment without ever truly understanding it or being able to capture it again.

in other words, he's both a safe respite that feels too good to be true, and he's an incredibly dangerous idea for me to be bumping up against. i would say he lives in my head rent free, but it's more like i try to live in his like, all the time. i have no idea why i like him so much, but his gay little hands captured some insane part of my psyche and they haven't let go yet. I've only ever felt this way about one other character and that's yuri plisetsly yurionice. welcome to number two mimi <3

All the people I ship romantically with this character

Yuuji, obviously and primarily, and almost exclusively if it weren't for his obvious sister complex--

love me some itafushikugi, but I also love fushikugi as a piece of that, or on its own. they simultaneously make no sense to put together, and also actually make the most sense once you actually do. my favorite version of them is the bitchy long term high school couple who are obviously judging you, but i also love them bearding for each other, queer besties with benefits, or just confused teenagers who aren't sure what they want yet.

megumi's misguided first gay crush on his senpai, yuuta, save me. love them together. love them with yuuji too. but they can have a really sweet or really... fulfilling dynamic pretty much no matter what situation you put them in.

i could ship him some more, but i can't promise it will always be good for him. i'm somewhere between stages 3-7 with some ships i will not be mentioning here. out of respect <3

My non-romantic OTP for this character

kirara, thank you @sanguineerose. trans megs + kirara besties have my heart

My unpopular opinion(s) about this character

he's a lot more fucking direct and shameless than a lot of people want to admit. if he gets frustrated or fed up or even a little irritated he will break so fast. he would never ever be blushing, and shy, and flustered he would be angry and unhinged and reactive. he doesn't respect most people at all, but for the people he does respect he tries really hard to reach out to them in his own way and asks for exactly what he wants. he's very childish and selfish and he should be allowed to be. also he really enjoys playing along with nobara and yuuji's antics, he just likes to play the straight man for plausible deniability reasons.

also also the potential man allegations are valid and really funny. it's a misreading of his narrative purpose in the story, but it's not like. wrong. they're correct in the same way the bum allegations are correct for geto, because they're narrative parallels-- OH YEAH, megumi is the parallel for geto, not gojo. that's yuuji. I don't know how people miss this.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

fucking. cut hana's whole character. what was the point.

[onetrackminded]

Newly Diagnosed w/ PTSD

It was simultaneously surprising and not surprising. For one, I've known for years now I've probably been suffering from a kind of CPTSD from childhood and adolescence. I've had triggers, flashbacks, and nerve-wracking anxiety for a while. Weirdly enough though, all those things were relatively mild in comparison to my bigger problems (namely bipolar disorder and various neurodiversities).

Three years ago, my trauma symptoms were present but incredibly manageable with some run-of-the-mill Buspar. This is partly due to the fact that I was ignorant to the scope and span of the abuse I faced and was still facing. It was normalized. I believe trauma is much easier to cope with when you're not aware of it and when you're still in it, at least in my case.

Now that I've escaped a three-year-long abusive relationship, all of that has changed. It felt like for the first time, I was experiencing all these new and gravely intense symptoms of trauma. I'm living with my mother now, a situation caused by financial abuse in my previous relationship. I love my mother, and she's endlessly generous and helpful, but living with her and my baby brother feels like trying to re-integrate back into society after leaving a cult.

When I spoke to my therapist about some of the symptoms I was having, she gave me a PTSD questionnaire to fill out. I was weirdly shocked and validated by many of the symptoms listed, such as the ones concerning apathy.

For months at that point, I'd been having issues with feeling much of anything. Even when I'm in the midst of crying and processing my pain, I'll have moments where I completely stop crying and go numb. It's uncanny, and feels like my emotions are heavily compartmentalized.

The worst part of apathy is how it can make you treat people in your life. Every little thing can become irritating. Triggers are everywhere; I've described it before as being like a minefield. There is no avoiding them. That means I frequently suspect the people I love are trying to hurt me, which can cause me to act defensively and short-fused.

Thankfully, the folks in my life right now are very understanding. I always do my best to apologize for my behavior and explore my fears with them, but that is painstakingly difficult. It often feels as though my brain is requiring immense amounts of emotional labor in order to be calm (or something akin to calm).

I have a lot of work to do. More work than I've ever done, arguably. The thing about PTSD is that it requires so much constant diligence. Apathy must be met with a problem-solving attitude: identify the unmet (usually emotional) need, then meet it. Meeting those needs requires walking through the terror, teeth quite literally gritted shut, and trusting that the people around you aren't abusing you even though every fibre of your being is telling you otherwise.

It means staying up late and worrying that you're falling into the same abuse traps again, then needing to analyze and re-analyze with the people around you to quell that fear. Then, once peace is achieved, you get triggered yet again. The cycle repeats sometimes mere minutes after the conclusion of the last. Trauma is sisyphean in this way; pushing boulders up mountains just for it to fall back down. An endless tide of failure.

As pessimistic as I'd like to continue being, I know it gets better. Someday, I'd like to think I'll be able to go weeks without being triggered. Someday, if I work hard enough, I can know peace again, or whatever thing akin to peace I had before.

[siriuslysatorusimping]

So, this is in response to your game lol.

I've been hooked from the beginning, I LOVE Rinko's attitude and sarcasm but I can say without a doubt that my favorite part in this series is Show Your Hand.

I love when a character is allowed to be angry, even if they know it's not fully rational, but they are angry anyways, and when they get to lash out a little because of it.

I loved the conversation that happened because of that anger, the acknowledgment of that anger and processing it.

But mostly I just love that the anger felt real and realistic. Everything from her not responding to the texts, to telling him very simply to 'leave' to the smashing of the glass, to the panic attack felt so real and I loved the way you wrote it. Especially the part where she was thinking that she just wanted to sleep and not have the conversation felt real.

You are an amazing writer and I'm so excited for more! 💖

AHHHHHH

Okay, I love this.

Because Show Your Hand became so much more than I originally intended, which I noted in the Author Discussion. But I fell in love with how it unfolded so easily.

I'm gonna rant a bit so yeah, below the cut lol

If you haven't already, you can read Another Level on AO3 :)

There are two ways Rinko's panic attack can be interpreted from a 'relationship' standpoint:

Gojo caused the panic attack because he pushed her and didn't respect her boundaries

Gojo was a safe enough person for her to break in front of, to be that vulnerable with, which allowed her to have the breakdown she needed to have.

The one I'm using is the second. His presence, while it was a lot for her and she was angry, provided a space that she knew, even if subconsciously, was safe for her to not be okay in.

And honestly? Beautiful.

And to your point about being allowed to be angry, yes. Anger and emotions are not rational or logical, even though they can be fed and influenced by logic and rationality. The distinction that Rinko is able to make between knowing she's justified and/or allowed to feel, while simultaneously being unable to work through those emotions properly so that they don't control her actions, is one of my favorite things lol

I love the quote I saw somewhere once: "Your feelings are valid but that doesn't mean your actions are." And that was kinda how Yuzuki viewed life, in my mind

I also loved writing the "You can yell at me after, I promise" because Gojo knew that calming her down wouldn't make her frustration or anger with him go away

ALSO NOTE: in every disagreement they've had so far, any time Rinko starts degrading herself in any way, Gojo gets angry and tells her to stop. Protective boi. Even against herself.

Let's also notice that he pretty much only ever calls her 'Rinko' when he's being serious or has something important to say. The "Rinko, why are you here?" in Silence Louder than Words is a good example. He was upset but not with her and he'd already clocked that she was respecting his space, so he used her given name 🥹 All lighthearted times he'll call her 'Rinko-chan,' 'Kurisaki-chan,' 'baby,' or 'sweetheart.' He typically only calls her 'Kurisaki' when he's angry or irritated with her.

Thank you again for your response!! I absolutely adore that Rinko's character has people who love her lil messy imperfection as much as I do

And thank you for your compliments 🥹💕 They make my validation-loving ass so very happy 😂

[hoursofreading]

I think there's gathering dissatisfaction with a common set of tropes regarding personal agency and mental health. In particular, I think that the dominance of the therapeutic assumption in American life, and the role of affirmation within it, will be challenged. Currently, an inescapable American cultural mode, particularly among the educated, is one of mandatory therapeutic maximalism and an attendant tyranny of affirmation. The therapeutic/affirmational mode assumes Wanting and not getting is disordered and a kind of identity crime Human life is meant to be spent in a ceaseless state of feeling “valid,” which is to say, affirmed and respected and paid attention to and liked; any deviation from this state is pathological and a vestige of injustice Good people spend a great deal of their time categorically and uncritically affirming others - telling friends and strangers alike that their desires are all legitimate, their instincts always correct, their perceptions of their own needs never mistaken or misguided, their self-conception compelling Correspondingly, we should all assume that anyone who is not affirming us is necessarily doing so out of a particular kind of politicized wickedness, that they are likely motivated by racism, sexism, homophobia, or other kinds of bigotry, and if these specific accusations are not plausible, then by simple evil The job of society is to enable every individual to achieve every desire they believe that they’re entitled to, and the fundamental sin of our present order is not poverty or inequality or exploitation but the serial denial of the dreams of some individuals Society writ large has the ability, the right, and the duty to manage the psychiatric health of every individual Psychiatric health entails all elements of a person’s inner life, including basic aspects of the human condition like sadness, shyness, irritation, fear, disappointment, and the various other permutations of unhappiness, all of which are inherently pathological and disordered; there is no such thing as an appropriate negative emotion The ratchet of expanding the number of conditions that are seen as falling under the broad umbrella of mental illness goes only in one direction - we add things to the DSM, we never subtract; the necessary and correct evolution of mental health mores over time is for more and more people to find themselves diagnosed with more and more conditions, and it’s cruel and bigoted to suggest that there is an overdiagnosis problem The actual provisioning of medical care for genuinely pathological mental conditions is and should remain ancillary to the social conversation about mental health, which must instead stay fixated on the task of proscribing behaviors that might result in the psychic unease or unhappiness of anyone, rather than focusing on treating and curing medical conditions Claims of psychiatric need are a special kind of claim which can override the wants and needs of others, and simultaneously, everyone is free to make a claim of psychiatric need at any time; the obvious contradictions and destructive consequences of this combination are not to be explored We do the best for others by affirming what they already believe and validating what they already want; people are happiest and healthiest when they are encouraged to think that vulnerability is more valuable than resilience and that their pain is more beautiful than their strength.

Prologue to an Anti-Therapeutic, Anti-Affirmation Movement

[experiencesampling]

Revolutionizing Real-Time Research: How Wearables Supercharge Ecological Momentary Assessment (EMA)

In the age of smartwatches, biosensors, and real-time health feedback, academic research is undergoing a quiet revolution. We are moving beyond lab-controlled environments and one-time surveys—into a new frontier where human experiences are captured as they unfold. At the heart of this evolution is the powerful synergy between wearable health monitoring devices and Ecological Momentary Assessment (EMA).

Together, they’re not just collecting data—they’re capturing life in motion. They’re allowing researchers to observe, analyze, and intervene with a level of immediacy and depth that was once unimaginable.

What Is EMA and Why Does It Matter?

Ecological Momentary Assessment (EMA) is a methodological innovation that enables researchers to gather real-time self-reports of behaviors, feelings, and experiences as they occur in natural settings. Unlike retrospective surveys or lab-based observations that rely heavily on memory or artificial scenarios, EMA captures the here and now—providing context-rich, ecologically valid data.

Whether it’s a person logging their mood on a commute or rating their energy level after lunch, EMA delivers nuanced, time-sensitive insights that bring researchers closer to the real rhythm of daily life.

But what if we could go deeper? What if we could move beyond subjective self-reports to uncover the physiological undercurrents that drive these experiences?

Wearables Add a New Dimension to Research

Wearable health devices—such as the Apple Watch, Fitbit, Oura Ring, or Garmin wearables—have become increasingly accessible, reliable, and powerful. These tools can passively and continuously track an array of physiological signals that provide an objective window into the body’s internal states.

Key metrics that wearables collect include:

Heart rate and heart rate variability (HRV) – Indicators of stress, recovery, and autonomic nervous system function

Sleep quality and duration – Insights into rest, fatigue, and cognitive performance

Step count and physical activity – Useful for understanding energy levels, mobility, and exercise patterns

Blood oxygen saturation (SpO₂) – A key biomarker of respiratory and cardiovascular health

Stress levels and skin temperature – Early signals of physical or emotional strain

When these passive data streams are integrated with EMA surveys, researchers gain a 360-degree view of participants’ lived experiences. For example, when a participant reports feeling irritable or anxious in an EMA prompt, their wearable might simultaneously show a shortened sleep cycle or elevated resting heart rate. This kind of multimodal data enhances the depth and reliability of findings—offering a layered understanding of human behavior.

Research Use Cases: Where EMA Meets Wearables

The integration of EMA and wearable devices is unlocking new research possibilities across disciplines:

Health Psychology: Track how symptoms fluctuate with daily routines and physical health data, improving chronic illness management.

Sleep and Cognition: Examine how sleep cycles influence mood, attention, and productivity throughout the day.

Mental Health: Link subjective reports of anxiety or depression with biometric data to identify early warning signs.

Behavioral Science: Trigger nudges or check-ins based on periods of inactivity or spikes in stress indicators.

Physical Health and Rehabilitation: Monitor recovery from injury or surgery using motion data paired with daily pain or energy level assessments.

Adaptive Research: From Observation to Intervention

The most groundbreaking potential lies in how wearable + EMA integration powers Just-In-Time Adaptive Interventions (JITAI).

Unlike traditional research designs that observe behavior over time, JITAIs enable researchers to intervene in real time. Based on physiological or behavioral triggers, a system can deliver targeted prompts, messages, or resources—right when participants need them most.

For instance:

A study on workplace stress may send a breathing exercise when HRV drops.

A sleep study might prompt a morning mood survey if poor sleep is detected.

An exercise intervention could nudge a user to move after a prolonged period of inactivity.

This responsiveness elevates the research from passive observation to proactive support, improving both data quality and participant experience.

How ExpiWell Makes It Easy

At ExpiWell, they recognize that research must evolve with the tools of the digital era. That’s why they’ve built a platform that bridges EMA with wearable device integration—bringing researchers the flexibility, precision, and power they need to design high-impact studies.

With ExpiWell, researchers can:

Collect passive wearable data via Apple HealthKit and other integrations—without requiring participants to manually upload anything

Combine physiological and psychological data into a unified dashboard for analysis

Set smart triggers that launch surveys or interventions based on real-time biometric thresholds

 Reduce participant burden by syncing passive data without interrupting daily routines

 Customize data visualization for easier insights, reporting, and presentations

Deliver context-sensitive support that adapts to participants' health, habits, and needs

Their platform is designed to support data-rich, participant-centered research across academic, clinical, and corporate environments.

The Future Is Here—and It's On Your Wrist

The convergence of wearable technology and Ecological Momentary Assessment is not just a trend—it’s a transformation. It offers a research paradigm that is more immediate, more accurate, and more meaningful than ever before.

As wearable adoption continues to rise, and as EMA methods evolve, the future of behavioral and health science will be rooted in real-time responsiveness—a space where data reflects not just what participants say but also what their bodies signal in real life.

If you’re ready to design cutting-edge research that captures the full spectrum of human experience, ExpiWell is here to make it possible.

Let's build the future of research—one real moment at a time. Contact ExpiWell today to learn more about EMA.

[fandomfloozy]

she-hulk attorney at law is SO bad in so many ways that have been laid out by many people FAAAAARRRR better than me at media analysis and conveying proper, valid scrutiny

however comma, that won't stop me from laying out plainly why i personally think it is so so bad

first, it's just such a bastardization of the marvel brand (entity? conglomerate?) and not in a fun way

i get that, by virtue of being a fourth wall breaker, no matter what, the antics jennifer walters gets up to are going to come across as parody or even satire of the superhero genre. but there are certainly ways to do that without being absolutely insufferable about it

in the least woman-hating way possible: jenn walters, as portrayed by tatiana maslany, is no ryan reynolds. she comes with none of the charm, the wit, or the actual comedic chops that our current live action deadpool does (and even that flavor of comedy, tbf and to me, has overstayed its own welcome. give us something new once in a while, ryan. it's getting old). i feel simultaneously irritated and bored by jenn when, on paper, she seems like one of the coolest female characters in the marvel gallery. so much potential and i'm just NOT entertained

beyond this gap in connection with the literal lead of this nine-episode shit-show, the screenplay itself is also contrived and dull. the subversion and meta-ness of it all (ESPECIALLY in those final 2 episodes) doesn't feel smart, or new, or interesting. it feels cheap.

like THIS is how we chose to mark the return of belobed matt murdock???

to be absolutely fair, some of the few moments i did enjoy in this series (show? television equivalent of an EP?) involved seeing daredevil back in action. but holy god above. not like this.

and to top it all off: the show certainly had a message to get across... and it did. a horrible, shallow, stupid message that is so narrow-minded and dumb that it's an affront to all media commentary of the social zeitgeist.

"All Jenn Walters had to do, as a powerful woman, was be herself :D"

...jenn walters is a successful, conventionally attractive woman who is completely secure in herself and her accomplishments before getting in an accident with bruce banner. her struggle should have come from this SHELL-SHOCKING change in her life and grappling with what it means to have incredible, uncontrollable power while wanting to good unto others. NOT in not being pretty or interesting or powerful enough to GET A DATE without being she-hulk???

"Women angry all the time and good at holding it in. No learning curve in anger management required. All powers come naturally :)"

being the hulk is a mentally and emotionally DRAINING ordeal that no one undergoes willingly because it is an incredible BURDEN. not only does it take an incredible physical toll to be an "enormous green rage monster," it is stupidly psychologically taxing because you LOSE CONTROL. idk if yall noticed, but bruce banner carried a fear of becoming hulk for YEARS for good reason. smart hulk may have numbed the audience to the reality that was the coexistence of bruce and hulk, but that's not the baseline and it's CERTAINLY not where jenn walters' toil with the she-hulk should have started

immediate talent does not garner audience sympathy.

lack of real, cohesive struggle does not garner audience relatability.

and the excuse that "women are good with managing their anger" surely does not EXEMPT you from the mental and psychological toll that comes with becoming an uncontrollable green mutant

and it also just isn't true????? while i know my fair share of women who handle life with grace and poise, angry women are not QUIET and angry. they are quite LOUD and angry. have the writers MET an angry woman????

the women that are labeled "crazy, overemotional, unstable" are loud angry, and they make up most of the women I know.

and placid and even-tempered men exist. like a LOT of them do. anger management isn't a strictly female trait and what a harmful way to convey this stupid ass attempt at social commentary. eugh.

cuz i know that's the intent. it's social commentary on how women are expected to act. "the intent was this" "the intent was that" idc idc IDC

it's stupid.

it flopped.

it fell flat.

message failed. now u just look stupid.

...

also, the CGI was ass.

[testajuliejane]

Workplace Beefing

Jealousy in the workplace can manifest in various subtle and overt ways. Identifying these behaviors can help you address potential conflicts or manage your emotional response. Here are some common signs:

1. Highly Critical but Imitative Behavior

- Signs: They frequently criticize your ideas, methods, or achievements but simultaneously adopt your style, work methods, or even personal habits.

- Reason: This behavior stems from envy. While they admire your success, they might criticize to diminish your accomplishments and feel better about themselves.

2. Resentful or Passive-Aggressive Behavior

- Signs: They may show irritability or resentment when you receive recognition or opportunities. Passive-aggressiveness can include sarcastic comments, withholding support, or indirect complaints.

- Reason: Jealousy may make them feel insecure about their own abilities or position in the workplace.

3. Passing Judgment Without Knowing You

- Signs: They make assumptions or spread misinformation about you without making an effort to understand your intentions or personality. This might involve gossip or unfounded criticism.

- Reason: This is often a defense mechanism. By demeaning you, they may try to shift attention away from their own perceived shortcomings.

Handling jealousy requires a balance between assertiveness and grace. By staying focused on your growth, you can rise above negativity while maintaining a healthy work environment.

When jealousy in the workplace stems from an age gap, particularly with older colleagues feeling envious of your youth, energy, or opportunities, it can take on unique dynamics. Here are additional signs of jealousy specific to this situation:

1. Undermining Your Competence

- Signs: They may dismiss your ideas, opinions, or achievements by implying you lack experience or maturity, even if your contributions are valid.

- Reason: Older colleagues may feel threatened by your fresh perspective or adaptability to new trends and technologies, which they perceive as a challenge to their expertise.

2. Highlighting Age and Experience

- Signs: They frequently emphasize their years of experience, subtly suggesting you have a long way to go or lack the qualifications to excel.

- Reason: This is often a way to assert dominance or reclaim a sense of superiority in the face of perceived competition.

3. Withholding Mentorship or Opportunities

- Signs: They may be reluctant to share knowledge, collaborate, or recommend you for opportunities that could help you grow, fearing you might surpass them.

- Reason: Jealousy can lead to an unwillingness to nurture younger talent, as they might see it as facilitating their own replacement.

4. Excessive Monitoring or Micromanagement

- Signs: They keep an unusually close eye on your work, pointing out minor mistakes or nitpicking details to make you feel inadequate.

- Reason: This behavior often stems from insecurity, as they might believe they need to justify their role or maintain control.

5. Spreading Doubt or Gossip About Your Ambition

- Signs: They make comments about your career goals, suggesting you’re overly ambitious, impatient, or undeserving of opportunities.

- Reason: Jealousy over your youthful drive and potential for rapid advancement can lead to attempts to discredit you.

6. Downplaying Your Achievements

- Signs: They trivialize your successes, suggesting they were due to luck, favoritism, or ease, rather than your talent or hard work.

- Reason: This minimizes their fear that your progress reflects their stagnation.

7. Resentment Toward Your Energy or Adaptability

- Signs: Comments like, “When you get to my age, you won’t be able to keep up like that” or visible frustration when you excel in tasks requiring quick learning or multitasking.

- Reason: Your youth represents qualities they might feel they’ve lost, such as energy, creativity, or adaptability.

Strategies for Navigating This Dynamic

• Acknowledge Their Experience: Show genuine respect for their expertise and contributions, which can reduce feelings of insecurity.

• Collaborate Positively: Find ways to involve them in projects, creating opportunities for mutual learning.

• Stay Professional: Avoid engaging in age-related arguments or taking bait from sarcastic remarks.

• Communicate Assertively: Address inappropriate comments or behaviors directly but respectfully.

• Focus on Your Growth: Don’t let their behavior distract you from developing your skills and achieving your goals.

By maintaining professionalism and empathy, you can handle age-related jealousy tactfully while continuing to thrive in your career.

[andiv3r]

Here. TL;DR words are bullshit, why not let anyone use the words they feel most accurately represent themselves, you don't have to understand an identity to respect it.

I am going to elaborate a bit further under the cut because this subject really gets to me, even though I myself am not a transmasc lesbian, so... you have been warned.

First off, to all the many people screaming "MASC ≠ MALE" at the top of your lungs, great! True! But you're missing the point. This post (as OP has made clear) is about the fact that trans men can use the term "transmasc lesbian" for themselves.

Okay, I can see some people angrily typing already, so please cease your anger-fueled keyboard-warrioring. I'm not trying to frustrate anyone here, but I firmly hold the belief that words in and of themselves don't have any value except what we, as people, give them (especially in the case of labels pertaining to such things as gender and sexuality).

In the case of transmasc lesbians, people have a tendency to argue more with the people who use this term, but I can think of plenty of other "conflicting" identity terms. Biagender (also known as abigender or libragender), for example (feeling somehow simultaneously multiple genders and no gender at all). Identities that hurt no one, feel right to the user of the label, and for some reason spark irritation because, from what I can see, someone else decided the term didn't sound right.

I reiterate my earlier point about "transmasc lesbian" being a term that represents a large array of identities. For example, multigender folk (those using terms such as bigender, genderfluid, etc.) may call themselves "transmasc" due to transitioning toward a more masculine presentation and "lesbian" due to loving women whilst still having a woman or girl component to their identity. In this respect, the "masc ≠ male" statement is important and entirely true, but does not encompass the entirety of the issue here.

Here's where people might start to get defensive or angry. Trans men can be lesbians. Some trans men, though they feel fully comfortable with being boys, men, male, masculine, etc., still associate themselves with the term "lesbian". This could be for many reasons, some following;

a trans man who had always referred to himself as a lesbian before coming out, and had grown attached to the term, so no other term really felt right or correct for his identity

a trans man who still feels a certain connection to femininity, if not femaleness, and therefore associates himself with the term "lesbian" far more than any other due to how it connects with his gender presentation or relationship to his identity

a trans man who cross-dresses and considers himself a lesbian whilst in drag and a straight man out of drag

a trans man whose relationship to his partner has always felt more sapphic in nature, and therefore it feels more accurate to describe himself as a lesbian

I could go on, but I don't feel that I need to. You get the point, I hope. Transmasc lesbians (specifically trans men who are lesbians) are valid. Stop policing people's speech that hurts no one, please and thank you.

arguing w/ my brother and I needed to make this

Reblog if you think ‘transmasc lesbian’ is a valid identity

I’ll show him the number of notes after about a week or so

[roobylavender]

blocked the anon so it's already gone but something i feel like comes up in the more toxic niches of talia fans re: selina is this sort of gotcha of "well if you wrote selina true to form she wouldn't love bruce at all" and it's like. i don't really think that's the point. on a grander level it exposes this very narrow, rigid view of what narrative romance should look like and what makes it worthy of upholding in the mainstream, and admittedly i think this centers a lot of what talia and selina fans argue with each other about in general: the idea that one couple loves each other more potently than the other and thus is deserving of a true romance title. that in turn exposes the issue on a more individual level, bc so little of the romantic engagement with the women involved in these relationships ever accounts for their own personhood. i'm not sure why the above summarized snark i came up with is so common bc i don't think it accommodates selina or her circumstances at all and more often than not the latent assertion there is that selina could never love bruce bc she's built to be selfish and self-centered. there's no acknowledgement of the fact that selina's antagonism with bruce, if respected by writers, would stem not from some emotionally and materially detached selfishness, but from an overt awareness of her circumstances and how bruce is loath to truly understand them despite his best intentions. he's an arm of the system. he understands there is corruption that is integral to it but ultimately his idealism encourages him to believe that the bits of good that show through the cracks are worth justifying the maintenance of the system as a whole even if he is sympathetic to the individual people who are victims at the other end of it. and that's not tenable with selina's world view. she knows it's not realistic. she knows the cops will never truly afford her or others like her full personhood

so (like i said yesterday) if any headway is to be made with the relationship, it has to come from bruce and his own evaluation of the system he works within on a more radical level. and frankly, i think a lot of people find it easier to put the burden of the relationship's progression or validity on selina than to even begin to question that bruce and writers' more conservative engagement with him is the real reason why their relationship has never felt genuine even when consummated. they'd rather pin these issues on an individual woman they don't like and who they perceive as an obstacle to their own favorite ship than acknowledge that perhaps the potential politics the relationship could engage with are too radical for the genre and times they were originally fostered within. i'm a bruce truther myself above any and all else but i personally find it very irritating how few bruce truthers who are simultaneously ship invested refuse to really wholeheartedly engage with the effect of dc's growing conservatism on his politics and how this impacts his relationships wholesale. his belief in the system isn't simply this cutish boy scout thing. his unwavering commitment to duty at the expense of himself and his behavior with others isn't sustainable long term. all of it's fallible. and the consequences are hardly exclusive to his kids