#2 am thoughts or actual desire to stop posting on social media

[esaari]

tumblr's kinda boring lately huh

[astra-nomy]

ASTRA'S BEST ADVICE: another long post (summary at the bottom)

To start off: doubts only hold whatever power you give them. I know I've said this a million times, but it's true. You hold all the cards here. All the power comes from you, and you can pick and choose which thought to give power to and which ones you don't. Yes, that requires some self control. Don't allow yourself to indulge in "What Ifs" and doubts. If they arise, simply acknowledge them, maybe even thank them for trying to protect you (I do this a lot when I notice I'm being too harsh with myself), and part ways with them. They do not serve you. They are powerless. Like I always say, treat them as itty bitty flies and swat them away. They are irritating, but insignificant.

You believe in yourself more than you think. When I was a year deep into my shifting journey, I used to say "oh I have a test tomorrow, so I'm not going to try to shift" and then I was like babe, clearly part of you believes you can shift because you're saying stuff like that? It took many instances of things like this to realize that it's not that I don't believe in shifting, it's that I'm unsure of my ability to do it. Even so, a little part of me believes I can, and that is enough to keep me going. Realize that you believe in yourself, probably more than you think. You wouldn't be bothering to read this post unless you thought you had a chance of success.

But even so, you don't have to believe 100% to be successful.

Go out on a limb. This is something I do when the doubts are just buzzing around my head and I feel like they're holding me back. I take a deep breathe and say to myself, "From this point on, I am acting as though I have no doubts because they cannot hold me back." or some variation of that. Basically I say that and then proceed to operate as though I know I will shift or I know I will wake up with my desires because I just set my doubts aside for a bit. They're still there, but I'm basically just ignoring them and acknowledging that they don't have any power unless I give them power. There is absolutely no harm in putting aside doubts for a bit, and it can be extremely helpful.

Don't scour Tumblr. If you're overcomplicating the law, chances are you're scouring Tumblr, looking for every little tip and trick you can find hoping to find that magical bit of knowledge that makes everything click into place. Spoiler: you're not going to find that outside of yourself. Looking for bit after bit after bit of information without actually applying the law is going to complicate the process so so much, so think about taking a step back. Write down how you plan to manifest, what's your "routine", no more than 2 to 3 steps. Write it down. That's your lifeline. Get off Tumblr, TikTok, Instagram, whatever social media you use to learn about manifesting and shifting, and turn back to those steps whenever you have the urge to get back on. Focus on what you already know instead of trying to learn more.

Try not to worry about shifting or going into the void when you're not actively trying to do one or the other. If you're like me before I successfully shifted, you're probably worrying about whether you're going to shift or not at time when you aren't actively trying to shift. You hype yourself up and psych yourself up before the moment even arrives. Stop doing that! Whenever it comes up naturally in your mind, just reply to the thought, "I am going to shift/go into the void tonight" and leave it at that. Go back to whatever you were doing before and don't spend a single second agonizing over something you haven't even attempted yet. If you build up those worries/fears/doubts/negative assumptions whilst you're not actively trying to shift or go into the void, you are just giving a platform to useless negativity that, if you let it, can effect your ability to clear your mind and give shifting/going into the void a proper go.

Decide, don't hope. Part of manifesting is deciding. If you're meek and "try" to manifest as though what you seek isn't certain to come to you, it won't. You have to be assertive. You have to be demanding. You have to claim what is yours and have confidence in your ability to manifest. Stop "hoping" to do something right. Tell yourself you're doing everything right, because you are, babes. Decide to shift, don't hope to shift. Decide you have your desired face, don't hope you affirm enough that you wake up with it. Claim what is yours with open arms and know you have the power to get it the instant you desire it. Have confidence. It's the key to acknowledging your own power.

Don't worry about undesired outcomes. I once heard that if you're skiing and you're worried about hitting trees so much so that all you think of is "don't hit the trees," you're most likely going to hit those trees. Instead, focus on the path. Don't think about what you don't want, think about what you do want. Give your attention to the right things and eventually they will become your reality.

TOO LONG, DIDN'T READ: A SUMMARY

✮ Your doubts only have the power you give them. All power comes from you, so don't waste your infinite potential on negative thoughts. They are itty bitty, pesky flies and nothing more. Swat them away and move on.

✮ You believe in yourself more than you think. Chances are you're not doubting the law, you're doubting yourself. But if you didn't believe in yourself at all, you probably wouldn't be here, looking for my posts. Realize that you believe in yourself more than you think. It's motivating when you're frustrated.

✮ Act as if the road is clear. Allow yourself to put all doubts and road block on hold for a minute. Assume there's nothing in between you and getting your desires. Operate under that feeling for a little bit and see what happens

✮ Stop scouring Tumblr! There's a high chance that you already know exactly what to do, you're just struggling to apply it. Take what you know now, which I can assure you is more than enough, and get off of Tumblr. Do what you can with what you know, and once you feel comfortable with that, come back for the extra tidbits.

✮ Don't worry about shifting/going into the void while you're not actively trying to do it. When you worry about it during the day, you build up expectations for something you haven't even done yet. That's unfair to yourself. Don't worry about it until you're actually doing it.

✮ Stop hoping and start deciding. Hoping for success does nothing. Deciding you already are successful paves the way to getting everything you want. Don't "hope" to shift. Decide to do it. Don't "hope" you wake up with your desired face. Decide you have it right now. Assert your power and confidence.

✮ Focus on what you want, not what you don't want. Give attention to the good and that is what you will bring about. Worrying about getting what you don't want does absofreakinglutely nothing. Focus on the good, don't even think about the bad. It's not what you're getting. You get what you assume you have, so assume the best.

CONCLUSION

I promised you guys another ABA and here it is!! I know this was a bit more "Don't do this" heavy and I am sorry for that, but a lot of my journey came from recognizing what I did wrong and adjusting. I'm sorry if I came off a bit strict as a result of that lol, it was definitely not my intention. I hope this helps you guys, and THANK YOU SO SO SO MUCH FOR 1,000 FOLLOWERS!! It's so crazy to think that this account I started just a few months ago (!!!) has gotten so so popular in such a kind community. Keep being kind to one another and I thank you endlessly for your love and support.

<3 Astra

[sinigangsta-ao3]

Thursday Thoughts: On fandom and a sense of belonging, pt. 2

second part posted on a Friday lol

A few additions to yesterday's Thursday Thoughts, especially since that post seems to have resonated with a lot of people (btw, thanks @ao3commentoftheday for both your "overthinking" that inspired my original post and the signal boost!) — and a lot of people added some really important perspectives that I wanted to consolidate here.

---

On validation:

First things first, some clarification on my terminology: When I use the term "validation," I understand that word sometimes can be misconstrued as praise, fame, widespread recognition, etc. — especially on the Internet and in fandom. To clarify: when I say that people want to be validated, I specifically mean that they want to be affirmed and recognized as worthwhile. Sometimes, it's a matter of just being seen, full stop. Of being recognized that they exist (because sometimes people enter spaces, online or offline, and their existence isn't even acknowledged — and that is inherently a disheartening and dehumanizing experience. How can it not be?). On that note...

When I say that people seek validation, I definitely do not believe that means seeking validation or recognition at scale. I think, for most people in fandom (including me), validation through one or two readers/viewers who say, "I see that you did this work, and I think it's good and/or I appreciate that you did the work" is more than sufficient. I'm not saying that there aren't individuals in fandom who seek fandom fame or "cult status" — I have seen some and have observed them. I do, however, think those who seek fandom fame are the minority, rather than the majority. Basically, I do not think that, for the most part, artists/creators truly desire high volume of engagement — I just think that, psychologically and neurologically speaking, engagement metrics are the only things our brains can hinge on when we're trying to find authentic emotional and social connections via the zeroes and ones on the Internet. And volume feels like authenticity when we're looking at a screen.

---

On community:

In the tags, @rowenabean made a really great clarifying point about seeking community: "looking for connection is important and valid; needing it to come from one specific person or place is unhealthy." To which I say: YES ABSOLUTELY 100%. In my initial reflections, I'm definitely not saying that fandom is the only place where people seek connection — instead, I'm saying that people inherently seek connection ANYWHERE they go. This is also where my allusions to "individual responsibilities" come in...

We owe it to ourselves and are ultimately responsible for not only navigating online spaces based on our needs, but also honestly calibrating our expectations within ourselves when we navigate online communities. If we're seeking connection, we must constantly ask ourselves: "What am I actually looking for here?"; "Am I being clear with myself and with others on what I want and/or need?"; and — most importantly — "Am I being honest with myself with the fact that I cannot control others and if/how they have the capacity to connect with me?" Answers to that last question, in particular, get blurred because of the chaos of the Internet and the inability to effectively interpret others' intentions through a screen. I also think it's fair for us to get disappointed when misinterpretations happen in our attempts to build connection online — we're only human, after all. We can and should grieve loss, even if it's "just" a loss of a potential online friendship/connection.

Side note: this is all about healthy boundary setting, and I think that the work by Nedrata Glover Tawwab — including her book, "Set Boundaries, Find Peace" — has some really helpful tips on how to navigate this. She even provides some insights and advice on setting effective boundaries on social media and in online spaces, generally.

But, going back to diversifying the different containers in which you pour pieces of yourself: I fundamentally believe that fandom shouldn't be the only place you find a sense of belonging and that fandom can be one of a multitude of places in which you find authentic connection. I know there are some people who look down on individuals who try to seek authentic connection and a safe space in fandom — and I think that is both a problematic and privileged take. For some people, fandom can sometimes be the only place in which they feel safe enough to share certain parts of themselves. And that is a valid, understandable, and reasonable approach.

Finally, my good fandom + writing friend @onwriting-hrarby made a great point that, more often than not, we internalize the blame when we are unwelcomed because it is easier to see what's wrong within us instead of looking at the way in which the community/space we're entering is not set up for us to participate, let alone to belong (this is where my allusion to "systemic changes" comes in). In her own words:

Sometimes we blame ourselves for not having found the community, or still finding the way we feel ourselves comfortable with it, without giving full thought that we are not taught to navigate communities that don’t want us, or neglect us because it is easier not to rebel against them and just feel shame or guilt over it.

When Oedipus gets exiled by Creontes, the choir sings about the great “fall of man”, and we’re introduced a human that couldn’t navigate the community where he was shove in. But we hardly see the same amount of criticism to Creontes, the king, for whom is extremely convenient to have Oedipus exiled.

Forming part of a community implies vulnerability to let this community hurt you or welcome you. There is no sense of belonging without opening yourself to it, and pour your feelings onto it. That’s why it hurts when we are not welcome: it is not only that we feel like we don’t belong but that, ultimately, they are saying “no” to who we are, after bearing ourselves open.

---

On that note: I think that's enough for this week lol. I will inevitably revisit this topic at some point, either in a future Thursday Thoughts post or just generally. I can't help it: this is literally where my brain just goes, haha.

Sending everyone good vibes — and hoping that you're able to find connection and validation in whatever way that resonates for you! 💕

[antiradqueer]

Idek like if this fits in this blog I don’t even use tumblr for the community; I use it for images and customization and whatnot but I’m accidentally 2 am doomscrolling and…

The transid stuff is truly baffling to me like it’s so beyond me. I dunno if it’s just a new breed of severe mental illness or if it’s just heaps of attention seeking. Either way from what I’ve seen it’s just plain. Just insane. I’m also confused as to what they even are? Are they trans identities as in genders? Or are they just throwing around the word trans because they’re privileged and just. Can?

Firstly, I am black and trans which comes with day to day struggles. I didn’t wake up and stretch and yawn and go yep I’m gonna be trans. If I had a choice, I wouldn’t be trans. I wouldn’t want to put myself through constant oppression just because of who I am and how I feel about my own body and how I want to present MYself. It’s painful and I wouldn’t wish it upon anyone. So WHY are these people deciding they want to make their lives harder? Fully, consciously deciding that they want to change themselves purposely. Now I’ve always known I was trans but I didn’t always identify as trans because it didn’t feel right or I was scared to be judged. You cannot choose who you are but you can choose how you label yourself (which I’ve seen some crazy harmful stuff but that’s a different story.) So the fact that these people are CHOOSING to identify in ways that harm others and erase the trans community just does not make any sense to me.

Now. On to “transrace.” This has got to be some of the most privileged shit I’ve ever heard of in my life. I could probably guarantee you that a fat majority of these radqueers are white. Let’s say there’s a person who is white, but is deciding they want to say they’re black. Firstly, why??? I understand cultural appreciation but why do you want to change who you are to pretend to be someone else because there’s a “desire”? A desire to what? Be discriminated against no matter what? Not be able to graduate/get a job because of your natural hair? So on and so forth? I just don’t understand. These people are begging to be oppressed. And for what. What do they gain.

I don’t think I’ll ever understand, but I also think I’m fine with that. I don’t partake in discourse and I’m all for ‘to each his own.’ While I am not for people ignoring genuine harm being done (like the paraphiles or whatever they’re called aka groomers??? pedos??? traffickers????) I don’t believe that in the long run, it will affect either side. However. Transid people really do need to stop; especially ones acting on it in their actual.. away from the screen lives. I saw a post about a transid that revolves around intrusive thoughts. I suffer from intense intrusive and impulsive thoughts that often cause me to fall into intense episodes of mood swings, anger, confusion, depression, and more. I would NEVER romanticize these thoughts and make an identity for them. If it’s a coping mechanism, sure do whatever helps. But don’t bring that shit to others. Don’t glorify violent thoughts and mock real identities. It’s sickening.

I digress. Im stepping fully away from social media after tonight, but it was nice to be able to write this out and process how backwards we are evolving. Honestly, I will be fine with completely wiping the idea of transids away from my brain and continuing to lead a normal life.

TLDR:: I’m black and trans and I find radqueers/transids sickening, privileged, and harmful. Just my little tangents and tidbits on this subject that is quite new to me.

Bonus! I saw a genuine radqueer transid identity that was called “transartstyle.” Where one desires to have a different art style.

…

Stay safe out there

absolutely great points, i can never really get into breaking down tranrace like you did so first of all thank you,

i do think that alot of the transid/abled etc. stuff is some kind of new either mental illness or some kinda coping mechanism (or hell maybe it just is privilege and attention seeking), something like biid in a way or maybe something even similar to munchausen syndrome but not exactly it either, still doesnt take the harm those lables do away theres other, less harmful lables out there.

thank you so much for your piece here, and hey, dont let radqueers ruin your time online, especially since you dont do online discourse n all, anyway thank you and stay safe

[faulty-writes]

[ I present part four of my Tenya!Demon series. Only five more chapters to go! I don't think I need any warnings for this chapter, but I still hope you enjoy! ]

[ PART ONE ] - [ PART TWO ] - [ PART THREE ] - [ PART FIVE ] [ PART SIX ] - [ PART SEVEN ] - [ PART EIGHT ] - [ PART NINE ]

[ Everything becomes a little clearer after Tenya reveals just what he intends to do with you and why. In your defense, you didn't actually think that ritual would work. But what could you do now that you were faced with the consequences of your actions? And how can you stop Tenya from taking you down below with him? ]

The ungodly sound of his nails against the metal door made you scream and quickly cover your ears. You swore you saw sparks fly as the paint was chipped away, leaving behind not only the gray texture underneath but five visible and fairly large scratch marks.

He looked at you with his teeth bared and when you dared glance up, another scream passed your lips. He had four distinct shark-like fangs, two on the top row and two on the bottom row of his otherwise human-looking teeth.

Your body involuntarily trembled and although it hurt him to see you so frightened, he knew it was necessary. “I do not believe you fully understand what I am intending to do with you,” he said, bringing one hand down to cradle your chin.

You could feel the pressure of his thumbnail underneath your lip and the way his index nail pressed against the underside of your chin. He remained quiet, taking in every detail of your face. “Pardon my touch,” he said, moving his hand to cup the side of your cheek.

“Forgive me, I do not wish to sound presumptuous and I am not assuming my next words because I know you have been lonely," your eyes widened in disbelief. Did Tenya possess some type of empathic ability? He made it a point to state his words were fact, and yes, it was true.

Lately, you had been daydreaming about finding love, a meaningful relationship. At the same time, you found yourself pushing any romantic thoughts away. After all, you were married to your work, right? You couldn’t be acting like a lovesick teenager.

Yet, they kept coming and it frustrated you. So naturally, you thought of two logical options to solve this issue. 1. You could take your chances and try to find a relationship or 2. You could continue to ignore the way you felt and hope you wouldn't go insane.

One option seemed more realistic than the other, and you couldn't really think of a third one. That is until you saw instructions for a manifestation ritual when you were scrolling through social media on one particularly lonely night.

You should have paid more attention to your common sense and ignored the peculiar post altogether. After all, you scoffed when you first glimpsed at it, believing it was nothing more than a gimmick for Halloween. Not to mention, you didn't believe in the supernatural.

How could one that crafted support gear for a living possibly believe in such a fictional aspect? You always leaned toward math and science and showed that with enough hard work, you could bring creations into this reality that far surpassed even the wildest depths of imagination.

But your curiosity ended up getting the best of you and eventually, you went back to the post to read it. There were 7 steps that involved performing the ritual. 1. It was only to be performed on a night with a full moon. 2. You needed a clear space to work in.

3. Blessed salt was required to create a pentagram. Regular salt and a protective affirmation could be used as an alternative. 4. You needed a glass jar filled with cinnamon, oregano, a spoonful of honey, and a slice of lemon.

5. You needed to write everything you desired to manifest on a piece of paper and put it inside the jar. 6. A drop of blood from the one performing the ritual was required to add to the jar. 7. Once these items were prepared, you needed to light a white candle and chant an affirmation over and over again until the candle blew itself out.

This signaled that the universe had heard you and was going to grant the things you desired to manifest. You didn't think this ritual would even work, let alone that the universe wasn't the only entity that could answer you. Apparently, demons could too.

How that was even possible was out of your grasp of knowledge. Tenya narrowed his eyes and slowly moved his hand to grasp your chin once more. His fangs lightly grazed his bottom lip when he locked his eyes with yours.

“I too, have been desiring companionship or ‘love’ as humans call it,” he frowned, shifting his gaze to the floor. “I am afraid to say that humans mistreat the word, and use others for their own selfish desires, and yet...I cannot judge for my intentions are selfish as well,” he admitted in a bittersweet whisper.

Yes, ever since he learned of his brother's demise and that he was going to inherit the throne, he had been quite a mess. His brother was a just and fair ruler, one that he looked up to. He wished for nothing more than to be like his brother one day.

Yet, he could not silence the doubts in his head. Did he truly deserve to be King? Had he rightfully earned the title? The more anxious he became, the more he realized how lonely it was at the top and he could not accept that.

He wanted, no needed, someone by his side. But how and where would he find such a person? The answers weren't coming easy until one night when he was gazing over his Kingdom from his balcony and felt your call. Like hearing a bird sing its sweet melody for the first time, you astonished him.

Your desires were so pure and sweet and kind. They spoke to him and made him realize not only the answers to his questions but what he, in turn, desired. You. Yes, he not only wished to have you but to give you everything you desired and more.

“Y/n…” he said in a slightly breathless manner. The way he spoke your name caught your attention and caused you to flush softly. You hadn't even known Tenya for that long, less than an hour you suspected. Yet, you couldn't help but feel something.

As scary as he may appear, he carried with him a certain gentleness. Like the way he seemed mindful not to hurt you anymore...or so you thought. You gasped when he released your chin and instead, leaned down, bringing his face as close as he could to yours.

Your heart accelerated, but you weren't sure if it was because his handsome face was so close or because you feared that he would misjudge the girth of his horns and accidentally take your eye out. “May I…” he paused, almost like he was nervous or hesitant to perform his next action.

Part of you was confused by this, from what you knew the way he was acting was far from the classic depiction of how a demon should behave. But he was a Prince and maybe royals, even in the underworld, were conditioned a certain way.

He leaned closer, gently placing his forehead against yours. You could feel the weight of his horns and how the tips of them buried themselves in the strands of your hair. He sighed in relief, finding it comforting to be so close to you.

“Your desires…the yearning you held deep in your heart for that which you believed was impossible in your world caused mine to twist, and fill with an equal need to make you mine,” the last word was growled in a possessive manner.

A lump formed in your throat, forcing you to swallow hard and you opened your mouth to speak, but Tenya spoke first. “You desire love, yes?” he used that same breathless voice as before, and you felt your cheeks grow just a notch warmer.

Instead of responding verbally, you nodded. “Something unlike what is defined by your world’s standards,” he added. “That which was not shown to you by those that claimed to have loved you in the past,” your lip trembled and you felt an uncomfortable ache in your chest.

“You desire to learn what the definition of ‘true love’ is and yet, your heart cries out due to the mistreatment you have experienced throughout your mortal life,” your eyes watered over, and that ache grew to cause your chest to feel numb.

“Yet, this injustice was not enough to stop you from aspiring to learn how to love, how to give that which you weren’t taught, and I…” he paused, grabbing both of your hands to bring to his chest. You noticed how cold he was and you couldn't feel a heart beating.

Was he technically dead? Were demons even classified as alive? Your thoughts were shattered when Tenya spoke again. “I could not ignore one that holds such hope, such as what is said to be found in the heroes your world idolizes,” your eyes widened, he knew about that?

“I understand that perhaps through your eyes, I am the perfect depiction of what many in your world would classify as a villain,” you furrowed your brow, uncertain why he was saying this. Yes, he was a demon. Yes, he did scare you. Yes, he did hurt you. But, did that make him a villain?

“Perhaps such labels are rightfully enforced, as I wish to save you by forcefully taking your hand and tearing your soul away from this world,” maybe you spoke too soon. "W-what?" you questioned, watching him step away from you.

He had called you his 'betrothed' before, but what was this about tearing your soul away from your world and...you tried to scream when his hand suddenly wrapped around your throat and his nails dug into your flesh with purpose.

You desperately clawed at his hand, but this was of little use considering he had no intention of releasing you. “S-stop...” you managed to squeak out with tears rolling down your cheeks, feeling your oxygen supply grow thinner.

“Forgive me, I do not take pleasure in knowing this is the only way I can assure that you will be mine. I'm afraid I am too impatient to wait for your natural death to occur. I desire you in the underworld now,” he growled, baring his teeth. His grip tightened and his nails began to penetrate your neck. 

[ PART FIVE ]

[remcycl333]

hi beautiful! it’s ☹️ anon. im gonna follow the routine you gave me. i made a list of about 17 affirmations that i can pick and choose from and word them however, but ill loop the same 3 if i ever feel to lazy to rampage. i do need some of your advice because i will be leaving tumblr even tho i miss waking up and sleeping to your posts.

1. what if i spiral and freak out about if im doing something right? like for ex. i am worried about my wording because my desire hasn’t come yet or the opposite happened and i feel the urge to check one of your posts or overconsume. what do i do? i heard most people say “answer it yourself” but what if i convince myself of the wrong answer?

2. what do i do when i spiral? because i know i will, so what do i do?

3. i obviously struggle with comparison, so how do i deal with that? i filtered my social media to avoid seeing people with my dream life BUT when sad tik toks or pretty girls on tik tok pop up on my fyp. i can’t help but want to be sorry for myself, how do i deal with that? even outside of tik tok like real life if i see someone else with their bf while mine is thousands of miles away, how do i deal with that?

4. how do i take care but not neglect my 3D at the same time? for example, if im studying for a test because i think ill fail instead of trusting my ability to manifest regardless of the test. isn’t that contradicting my manifestation? because i used to fail tests or like assignments because i thought “id manifest it away anyways” and now im kind of experiencing the consequences of my actions.

5. how do i stop complaining about my circumstances and life and feeling sorry for myself? whenever my friend is like “ugh i wish i was pretty”, i CANT help but feel the urge to tell her i relate (after comforting her obviously) or if my family calls since im miles away and they ask how im doing and i start complaining.

6. how do i repeat the new story without lying? for example, if my friends ask me if my bf is far away. i can’t lie and say no he isn’t because they know him and they know he’s far away. or they are talking about how they feel sorry about him being away. what do i say? if i agree with them, isn’t that reaffirming the old story? do i just repeat over and over again in my head that he’s actually here with me?

7. how do i deal with depressive episodes while manifesting?

8. does the state from which you’re affirming from matter? like if im repeating affirmations, shouldn’t it just matter that im affirming rather than the state that im affirming in? because a lot of people say that if you affirm from lack, it won’t manifest.

hey love!! u can screenshot this post to refer to during your time off tumblr!! 🤍

if you freak out about whether or not you're doing something right, tell yourself that you are always doing everything right. flip the thought like you would flip any negative thought! and remind yourself it's not about the wording of the affirmation, it's about the intent behind it!!

when you spiral, try your hardest to calm yourself down and go on a self-concept rampage. for example: no, i'm not doing this, i am literally god and i know that im only doubting because my affirmations are working and my ego is scared. but im doing this for my own good and i won't stop no matter what! i am god, my life is perfect no matter what i see in my 3D, i will not be fooled by my 3D. i am more powerful than any negative thought i have and i don't have to fall victim to them anymore. i refuse to!

i get where you're coming from with tiktok. i used to have to take breaks from tiktok bc id see couples/pretty girls and feel bad for myself. but everyone is you pushed out. if you see someone you think is pretty, or someone in a happy relationship, it's because you've been focusing on being pretty/being in a happy relationship. think of it as birds before land/a sign that your desires are manifesting. also a little tool is, for example, if you see someone in a happy relationship just affirm something like "aww they remind me of my sp and i! we act just like that!" or if you see someone you think is pretty/has a feature you want: "omg, my [facial feature] looks just like theirs!" "my body looks just like theirs, but im skinnier!" "wow they're almost as pretty as me!" etc

something i do when i have to deal with my 3d is affirm in my head that i dont know why im bothering to do that thing when i know i have my manifestation. using the example you did, when i'd be studying i'd be like "ugh i dont even know why im bothering to study when i already know everything about this topic and know im gonna ace this test no matter what. im wasting my time studying when i know im literally guaranteed to pass"

i know it's hard not to complain, but you are not a victim to your own thoughts. you have to force yourself, even if it's hard. "i can't help myself" yes u can!!! u are god!!!! force yourself to stop. give a simple answer and then change the topic.

similar to the last answer. don't lie bc that will stress yourself out. give a simple answer and then change the subject. then affirm the opposite in your head. once is enough if you only said one thing to your friend!! don't start complaining. you have the power to stop yourself. no one can force you to talk about something you don't want to talk about.

the way i deal with depressive episodes is listening o affirmation tapes and focusing on my self concept. i also force myself to keep my mind busy. i read, or play a video game, or watch a show/move (not one that's depressing or heavy). and remember that you can still manifest even when you're depressed!!

you don't have to be in any specific state to manifest!! your dominant thoughts manifest. as long as you're affirming for your desire more than you're affirming the opposite/the old story, you will be fine!!

that just reminded me of another thing u can add to ur routine!! write a script that is everything you want your dream life to be like and read it at least once a day to remind yourself of your new story. this would be a great thing to do before you get out of bed in the morning!! u can write it in your notes app!

since you say u like to read my posts to motivate yourself, throughout your day if you feel yourself struggling ask yourself "what would rem do?" "would rem be proud of me if she knew what i was doing/thinking about rn?" "what would rem say about this?" etc. hopefully that'll be a good source of motivation/comfort for you!!

if you are doubting, spiraling, thinking of giving up, tell yourself that's your ego. i always do this, i tell myself it's because im so close to my manifestation and the universe/my ego is trying to trip me up. take it as a sign/birds before land. keep going keep going keep going!!

you got this angel, i know you do!!! i believe in your 100%! you are perfectly capable. make me proud!! 🤍

[yuzukult]

from home 05 || jjk & reader

title: from home  pairing: jungkook x reader genre: richkid!jk, baker!reader, fakedating!au, fluff, angst, e2l, smut in later chapters word count: 7.5k+ prompt: jungkook is the youngest of five boys, the last in line to truly inherit any his parents’ money. but what if his mom suddenly cuts him off due to his current poor behavior and he’s forced to learn how it feels like to be part of the working class? a/n: i was really excited to write this chapter and i still couldn’t get myself to make it longer... :( i suck...

please let me know if you’re interested in being tagged! but also let me know if you want to be removed! taglist: @scalubera @strugglingartistno16-2 @taestannie @teresaisla @drumsofheaven @vampgguk @christiandosworld @madjammil @jungkookieyoongs @bananagguknim @shuttheelleup​ @yobroitsjayden​

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Stating that Jungkook was 'on edge' is an understatement.

His palms and armpits were sweaty from the moment he arrived at your apartment to grab you before going to meet your parents, despite the amount of layers of deodorant he has on. He's never had a real relationship before, let alone met any girl's parents, and he can't help but feel something churning in his gut. "Good to go?" You ask, and he merely nods, suddenly bashful because he feels like he is definitely not ‘good to go.’ "Alright, let's head out."

The ride on the bus to your family home is only 30 minutes away, and truthfully, he has never ridden on one before. Walking to yours, Hoseok, and his home were less than 15 minutes, the thought of taking the bus being the absolute last thing on his mind. 

Jungkook isn't exactly sure how he feels about the bus. The constant starting and stopping makes him nauseous; then the unsteadiness of having to hold the bars and handles throughout the vehicle all around seems unsafe. When there's an available seat, you sense his fear, nudging him cautiously, gesturing him to take the seat. "Sit," and granting he wants to offer it to you instead, Jungkook complies to the demand because he swears he's going to vomit. 

After getting off the public transportation that he vows to never take again, you guide Jungkook through a narrow road, he notices the neighborhood here was more concentrated than the ones in Busan; tightly knitted with homes that stacked on top of one another, side to side, and back to back. People hung their clothes on lines that stretch from apartment to apartment, piles of boxes stored on balconies, and plants resting on the borders with owners sitting idle on their porches, fixated on their hobby of people watching. 

Jungkook is known to be popular to the public, from magazines, gossip TV channels, social media posts, and the types continue on to the point that you couldn’t name them all on your own ten fingers. People don't often recognize him on the streets anymore because he's unrecognizable in regular everyday clothes but today, he learns that you're the celebrity.

The people in their homes say their greetings, making comments here and there as you entertain them with a response back, laughter dispersing in the air. There's an old lady that lounges on the steps of her home, a smile stretched so wide that her eyes disappear, all with a blanket laying across her lap, knitting away. "I haven't seen you around, I assume your mother is having a dinner party for the kids? I see you brought a friend!"

"Something along those lines," you retort indirectly, nose snug into your scarf. "You're not staying indoors? It's cold out."

"My husband keeps the heater on the home too high, I sweat like I'm going through menopause like I’m forty all over again, so I much rather be outside here. Anyways, I don't want to hold you up too long, but please come by for Christmas, I do have a sweater I knitted for you as well!"

Then there's a grandfather, another grandmother, and a couple who seems just a bit older than the two of you, and the list just goes on. Despite the whisper exchanges at the supermarket mentioning that you're intimidating, mean, and scary, it's obvious that you aren't or else you wouldn't be swooning the hearts of these strangers.

But there will always be an exception. Especially when the two of you run into a girl who looks close in age, hair dyed blonde with her lips painted fusion red. He could tell how curvy she was with how tight the winter coat hugs her frame, swaying her hips toward your direction as she eyes you both suspicious. "I see our town loser brought a friend."

"Mm," You nod, attempting your best not to amuse her, or else you’d be pouncing on her back by now. "Jungkook, this is Somin. A classmate of mine when I was in grade school." He bows in politeness, zipping up his jacket further while stepping closer to you. "Nice to meet you, Somin."

"Oh, no!" She gasps, a hand on her chest in exaggeration, completely flabbergasted by something he said. "Don't call me that. I go by Bella, since... you know, I am an American now. Being an American deserves the right name."

"You got your citizenship there?"

"No, but, I spent enough time there to know." She grins, shrugging her shoulders. Spent enough time there—you want to call out on her bullshit yet again, knowing she barely spent a month there before dropping out of school and coming back, but it'd be humiliating to mention that with Jungkook standing by, a stranger that she had only met a mere few seconds ago. "You said Jungkook... Are you perhaps, Jeon Jungkook of the Jeon Corporation?"

You furrow your brows. "How do you even know that?"

"Well, daddy invests in their stocks, of course." Fluttering her lashes, she manages to make her presence known to Jungkook as she moves in his direction. "And I saw his pretty little face in a magazine and couldn't help but admire."

Possessively, your hand slips into his pocket, intertwining your fingers together, causing warmth to creep up his neck and into his cheeks. "Well, great to see you, Somin. Jungkook and I have dinner plans with my parents."

"Whoa, wait, dinner plans?" Somin nearly exclaims, shifting aside to block your way. "Also, it's Bella, get that straight, will you? And why is Jeon Jungkook with you anyway?"

"We're dating," Jungkook interjects, clearing his throat. The words are still unfamiliar on his tongue yet he loves to flaunt them anyway. "I'm her boyfriend." He adds, tightening the grip on your hand as if Somin could see it. Her mouth drops open, unable to grasp onto the fact that you were able to land on a hunk like him. If only she knew how much knowledge of basic life skills he didn't have... actually, she might still have the same perspective. "There's no way. This is fake, right? You realize how rude she is, don't you?"

"No, it’s not fake, and well, kind of," Jungkook admits, scrunching up his nose at the thought. "But it's endearing. Wouldn't be as exciting if she wasn't always trying to banter with me, so I don't think I'd have it any other way. People mistake it for her honesty. I love a woman who can be true to herself and genuine with her words."

Just then, your mother peeks out of the front door of your childhood home, waving her arm eagerly, calling out your name. "Well, that's our cue. Thanks, Somin, for congratulating us on our new relationship. Hope you find someone yourself soon!"

"What—" Somin barely finishes her sentence before you're zooming past her, tugging Jungkook along. 

"I didn't know you had so many enemies," Jungkook says jokingly, a playful smile upon his lips. You roll your eyes before squinting them at him, squeezing his hand hard as he winces. "Now you know how little I care for them, watch out because you might become one."

Upon entering the home, Jungkook observes too many things at once. Your mother is in the kitchen, frantically maneuvering through the junk that your family has hoarded over the years, searching for whatever it is she needs for the task at hand. Your father sits comfortably on the couch, feet on the coffee table with a controller in hand, dozing off with a combination of quiet and loud snores escaping from him. As a family home, Jungkook believes it's small considering that you had mentioned previously that you had two other siblings. To think that your parents are still living in the same home they grew up in is amazing to him, knowing that his parents moved at least five times within his youth while you only stayed in one home.

"Uh, hello," He greets your mom, bowing as she places her hands onto his shoulders, shaking him in excitement. She looks almost like a replica of you, except older and much brighter. "You must be Jungkook! It's so great to meet you, I'm so happy that my daughter found someone. She's known to be a bit... cold, so knowing that you were able to warm her up means that you're definitely special!"

"You make me sound like a bad guy." You hiss before your little sister walks in, in the midst of tying her hair up into a ponytail. She resembled your mother than you did, a delighted expression that matched exactly the one your mother had on. "That's because you are, and any guy who dates you seem to run away once they find out." She halts in her steps when she notices Jungkook's face. "Oh my god, you're that model."

"Model?" Your mother reiterates, glancing back at Jungkook and then your sister. "Yeah, yeah, that model in the new edition of Elle. He was in it—he's listed as one of the 10 most desirable men under 30. No flipping way, how'd you even get him to even date you?" She pauses before pointing at Jungkook with a suspicious look on her face as his eyes widened. "Unless... you need her for something. What's she offering? It can't be her body, she's not sexy... is it her brains? You heard about her—"

"Miyoung." Your mother says sternly, interrupting your sister. "Just because Jungkook is a model, it doesn't mean that your sister is incapable of being loved by a man like that."

"Actually—"

"Oh, hey. You must be the boyfriend." A taller male enters the room, his hair messy and lids hooded from waking up barely minutes before. He's still in his pajamas, a loose grey shirt and red checkered pants, but from the outline of his shirt, Jungkook could tell this guy was built. "I'm Daehyun, also known as their big brother. It's nice to meet you." Jungkook is in awe, hand extending to shake with Daehyun's. He knows he's straight, but even as a straight guy he knows a pretty man when he sees one. 

Jungkook was starting to pick up as to why your exterior was so tough. With a younger sister who didn't have a filter to an incredibly handsome older brother, of course as the middle child you had to protect yourself. "Uh, yeah. And that's my little sister, Miyoung, who basically just attacked me for all of my insecurities within a minute. Thanks, kiddo."

"No problem, Unnie." She grins cheekily, seated on the high stool. "Did mom tell you I was back home from college for the weekend? That's why you're here?"

"Something like that," you respond ominously, hanging up your jacket along with Jungkook’s. Despite her preceding interrogation, she’s chewing on her bottom lip skittishly. "More like she forced me to come. Well, she didn't say anything yet but I felt a guilt trip coming so I just decided that I would come instead."

"Typical," Daehyun scoffs, leaning against the wall beside Miyoung. He sneaks a glimpse into the kitchen where your mother secretly runs back into, resuming in her work. "She's been desperate to get us all back together since the two of you moved out. Remind me again why I'm the only one stuck here?"

"Because you can't find a job." Miyoung and you remind him in unison and he frowns. The interaction between the three of you is crystal clear evidence that you guys are related. "Well, geez, hurt a guy, why don't you? See what I have to deal with, Jungkook?"

With some time left until dinner, the four of you crowd at your small dining table, conversing away about updates in your lives. Miyoung is in University an hour away from home, residing there for an easier commute, and Daehyun stays at home with an ambition to find a job that fits his degree. Daehyun still dates from time to time but he admits that he can’t tend to his needs because well, his mother is a room away, and oddly enough, albeit Miyoung babbles on about other things, she’s silent about her love life. Neither Miyoung and Daehyun are able to hold a steady job, he observes, and he’s starting to pick up as to why you’re so adamant about keeping both of yours. Jungkook learns that everything seems to gravitate toward one of the two phrases from your siblings when it comes to finances and they are: “Mom can handle it,” or “I’m going to let Dad do it so I don’t have to.”

From what Jungkook can gather, your siblings seemed to have different outlooks on life compared to you—they still depended on their parents whilst you were already hunting for opportunities of your own before Miyoung’s age so you didn’t have to ask for money.

“Are you still upset with me about what happened a year ago?” Miyoung finally asks you, chewing on her nails nervously. It seems to be something she’s been holding back from you, Jungkook takes a note of the way her eyes were filled with worry. “Of course,” You reply nonchalantly, leaning back against your seat with your arms crossed. “How could I not be? But you’re my sister, so I can’t actually be mad at you.”

Miyoung begins to tear up— glassy gaze with her bottom lip quivering, in spite of the previous aggressiveness she presented when you first entered the house. Before Miyoung could get another word in, your mom comes in with a guilty expression on her face. She calls your name faintly, a pout upon her lips. “Can you and Jungkook go out and grab me a couple things before dinner?”

Jungkook can’t get the question that Miyoung brings up out of his mind. In the middle of an aisle at another one of his mother’s grocery stores, your lips are pursed in thought at which brand of soy sauce would your mom like more. 

“What was Miyoung going on about?” He eventually asks, but he holds his breath in case you decide to sock him for querying you about something so personal. Strangely enough, you open up. “Miyoung fell in love with my ex. He told me they didn’t do anything but he was in love with her, so we broke up. I thought I was going to settle with him but— guess not.”

Jungkook’s eyes expand like a deer in headlights. “Your little sister is dating your ex-boyfriend? And they were in love with each other during your relationship? I would’ve given her an uppercut if I were you— are you seriously still buying the banana milk she asked for?” He’s trailing behind you as you lead him toward the drinks; your face brightening from the lights from the fridges. How could someone who lost their boyfriend to their little sister seem so put together in the first place? Was this was Hoseok was talking about that your men streak was horrendous? 

“Because she’s my little sister. At the end of the day, I want her to be happy.” Throwing a pack into the cart, Jungkook continues to push it while following you, mind still foggy and angry about the situation. Here you were, with a guy who you’d fallen in love with to the point of considering settling down, then finding out he’s been in love with your sister... he feels like this is all a fever dream and isn’t an ounce real. “You’re fucking with me right?”

You look at him with perplexity. “What do you mean?”

“This sounds crazy. You’re serious? Miyoung stole a guy from you and you’re just going to be the bigger person here and not do anything about it?”

“What am I supposed to do? Throw a tantrum? Get in the way of their relationship that is obviously blossoming in a good way?”

Jungkook pauses. Was this what it was like in another family? Or at least yours?

In comparison, he perceives that within his family, outbursts were everything. Getting attention and being recognized for any wrongdoing was immensely important— he knew that if he stole a girl away from one of his brothers, he wouldn’t make it out of the house alive. His mother, including father, would never forget it. The chattering would be heard through the grapevine amongst the housemaids, drivers, and employees of the company. Even news media outlets would dabble a bit into the family drama, adding fuel to the fire. He could never react the way you did, at least, he hopes he would, but realistically speaking, he knew he wouldn’t be able to do it.

Yet, with you, it seemed simple enough. Sure, your heart was broken, but how were you going to be with someone who didn’t love you back?

“If you love someone, you let them go.” You say calmly when Jungkook doesn’t respond back. “Keeping them around for your benefit doesn’t solve anything. If he wasn’t truly happy with me, I want him to be happier with someone else. And if that person so happens to be with Miyoung, what am I supposed to do?”

“But... you’re not happy.” Jungkook declares with no hesitation. He recalls the time where you felt bad for him for not having the best upbringing, and he’s starting to understand the emotion that ran through you. “I’m happier now,” You concede, placing the last ingredient your mom has on the list for you to purchase, turning your back at Jungkook. “Now that I met you.”

His heart flutters at the comments, and he’s desirous about bringing up the topic of the kiss again. Jungkook resists the urge to because he could tell from the way your silhouette begins to quicken its pace toward the checkout line that you really didn’t want to talk about it. 

When the two of you arrive back at your house, your father is jolted awake. Jungkook greets himself to the elder man who only grins brighter than the sun—something Jungkook is trying to grasp where your grumpiness comes from— and instantaneously directs him to the dinner table where your mom has a ton of side dishes laid out with six place settings for you all.

During the meal, there was nothing but exchanging stories, laughter, and elation that swarms the room. If this was what family meant, Jungkook wanted it. And the more he thinks about it, the more he wants it to be with you.

Nothing is working out for Jungkook.

This week, the pipe in his apartment burst. Something about— it’s winter and when it’s cold, the water freezes within the pipe and it expands the material, causing the pipe itself to burst, he doesn’t quite understand how the whole plumbing system works, but he knows that he can’t use the water in his apartment and has to go to yours and Hoseok’s for the week for a shower until the landlord can get it fixed.

Then, one of the deli guys called off because he apparently had the runs which meant that there was a shift change— Jungkook having to cover since whomever was working that day didn’t have the skills to do it.

Skills? Jungkook curses underneath his breath when he recites that word in his head repeatedly because he cuts his finger on the meat slicer as he winces, calling out your name. Coming to his side, you pull out the first aid kit and force him to sit down on one of the stools, tying elastic on a higher point of his finger to stop the blood from gushing out. “You alright?”

“Yeah, I just... I didn’t need to be put here, right? Someone else could’ve done this, I have no idea how to use a slicer.”

“I know,” You coo, wiping some of the antiseptic on the wound as he whimpers at the sudden sting. “The new shift manager panicked, she wasn’t sure what to do since the guy with the actual food preparation license is going to be here a bit late so she put you here. Not exactly the best plan.” After bandaging him up, you wash your hands underneath the faucet as Jungkook slouches in the seat.

Nothing really was going his way.

It doesn’t even stop there. Unexpectedly, his mother calls for dinner but you’re on shift, therefore you wouldn’t be able to attend. He’s tempted to down a glass of whiskey on ice, his signature drink, but when he opens the cabinet in his kitchen, he falters at the image of your face. Would you be disappointed if you saw what he was doing? And Hoseok? What would he say?

Retracting his hand back, he immediately slams the door shut at the thought of the consequences.

Dinner is the usual at the Jeon residence. Father sits at the end of the dining table, the typical beige cloth napkin spread across on his lap while in his usual work attire, glasses rested on the tip of his nose as he’s ready to dive in with a fork and spoon in hand. Mother is settled beside him, pretty as ever and calm in comparison to the hell that’s going to let loose in a couple minutes. The unknown? Who is going to blow up this time and who will they be comparing themselves to?

The answer? Jongseok and Jungkook.

Jongseok is upset to the point that he articulates every word with spit nearly projecting from his mouth to the opposite side of the room. The vein on his temple is stressed to the point that all Jungkook can think about is when it’s going to pop. “Why are you guys always babying Jungkook? You realize the kid is fucking working at a grocery store right? And not just any grocery store, either, but it’s mother’s chain.”

“Okay?” Father retorts, forehead wrinkling in puzzlement. “Isn’t he trying to prove himself worthwhile? Didn’t he find that job himself, despite it being your mother’s chain? He’s paying for his mistakes, learning basic life skills along the way, and even landed himself a serious girlfriend who can hold his hand through these tough times, since, after all, you’re the one who suggested we cut him off. If I’m being honest, I think we should give him access to our funds again.”

A scoff of incredulity comes from Jongseok. He’s a ticking time bomb in this moment; jaw twitching in frustration with the tips of his ears heated red. Even though he’s the target yet again, Jungkook is sober now, mind clear of the fog and the ability to defend himself for once. “I don’t get it. Why are you even mad at me? I’m trying here, right? You’re the one who wanted me to get cut off so desperately— and congrats, by the way, because I did. I had to find a job myself, one I’m not a fan of, and I’m barely making it by. I lost water in my apartment this week, cut my hand on one of those deli slicers, sprained my ankle on my way to work— and that’s only a portion of my bad week. Yet here I am, sitting at the dinner table with people who claim that they love me when you’re here flipping shit at father. What do you want from me?”

“For your name to be completely off the will.” Jongseok finally says what he has been actually feeling unperturbedly, not an ounce of affection in his tone with a gaze that could pierce through Jungkook. “You have nothing to offer to this family. Why we keep you around— I don’t know. Why should you have any portion of our estate and company assets when all you’re doing right now is working at the supermarket. Tell me, Jungkook, why do you deserve to be part of any of this?”

Jungkook hates how childish he’s being, but he feels like he has the right to. The flickering colorful lights and music booming through the speakers of the club are tuning out the words his brother exclaims at his parents, and the amount of alcohol passing through his lips are numbing the pain that tears through his chest. Your face pops up in his head; your laugh, your smile, and the comfort in the underlying messages through your tough love— he wishes that all of that was enough to heal the sting in his heart and fill the hollowness that his family left.

He doesn’t remember any of these people sitting at this table with him, even though they’re hollering in excitement that “Jungkook is back again!” The girl placing a hand on his chest with his arm around her shoulder isn’t you, but he knows that if it was, you’d be so displeased at how wasted he is. Honestly, this feels wrong. Nothing sits right in his stomach and when another pretty gal with her dress hiked up to the point he could see her thong from where he’s on the couch, he’s not even attracted to her. All he could think about was you, and that scowl on your face when he tells you about this night. He could hide it from you but he’s not going to lie to himself— if he wanted to improve for the better, it meant being straightforward and authentic. Jungkook came here to let loose because the events that occurred at the estate tonight was something he wants to forget.

Turning to the girl beside him, his eyes are hooded and vision is blurry when he asks, “What’s your name again?”

When her rosy plump lips open, she says her name but the voice that comes out of it is deep and oddly familiar. “Hyeri?” Why does she say it like a question, and why is her voice so low? Just then, a hand clenches the fabric of his shirt, pulling him up and he meets the proprietor of the response. Hoseok.

Hoseok drags Jungkook’s weak and frail frame out into the alleyway behind the club, fuming to the point that smoke could’ve been whistling out of his ears. “What the fuck are you doing here? And with Hyeri, of all people! I thought I told you to stop fucking around, dude! I-I thought you knew how much she means to me. Out of the people I’ve partied with— you were my actual friend.” He clenches his jaw before Jungkook could even answer, a fist tightening in his hand. “You’re such a fuck up, Jungkook. So much for a friend.” 

Then everything blacks out.

His entire body hurts. His head is pounding, he can barely open one of his eyes, and his legs are so sore he can hardly shift on the bed— on a bed? He doesn’t have a bed. He has a futon but not a bed. Startled, he attempts to sit up against the bed frame, the other eye opening to skim through the room. 

He’s never been in your bedroom before, but the pictures of you graduating college hanging on the corkboard above your desk, concert tickets, Polaroids, and holiday cards thumbtacked beside them is all the evidence he needs to know it’s yours. Jungkook wants a closer look at them, he can scarcely make out the cute little smile on your face with your family in attendance in the picture, but when he puts weight onto his arms, he groans. Seconds later, you’re bursting through the door, out of breath and worry in your eyes. “Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good,” Voice hoarse, he realizes how dry his throat is and you lean over to the bedside table to hand him the glass of water you had there originally. “Don’t move, idiot. You’re actually really torn up if you didn’t feel it with all that alcohol in your system.” Inviting yourself onto the foot of the bed, Jungkook frowns after he finishes the entire glass, much more dehydrated than he initially thought. “Trust me, it’s gone now. I feel every ounce of pain. What happened? I blacked out.”

“No shit,” you retort harshly, rolling your eyes at him. “You were drunk as hell, but you didn’t black out from that. Hoseok saw you getting all cozy with Hyeri and knocked the shit out of you. What happened, Jungkook? Why were you there in the first place? Did something happen?”

Reading the expression on your face, he fears for the worse but he doesn’t see any hint of dissatisfaction anywhere. There’s no anger, no resentment, no frustration— none of that. Just curiosity smeared across, genuinely worried about his well-being. “Are you upset that you found out I was there?”

“I was mad that Hoseok called me to come grab you, at first, so kind of, yeah. But if you’re trying to figure out if I’m disappointed in you, then no, I’m not. Old habits are hard to kill, so I understand that you’re trying to cope with something. I just want to know why you were there in the first place and why were you getting all lovey dovey with Hyeri—“

“I wasn’t getting lovey-dovey with Hyeri,” Jungkook exasperates, head falling back against the headboard, closing his eyes shut, interrupting before you lead the conversation into a lecture. “She was just some girl that sat down and claimed a spot next to me. I didn’t even know she was Hoseok’s girl.” There’s a pregnant pause in his explanation, and you don’t break off his train of thought. “I... I went because Jongseok called me useless tonight, yet again. It didn’t bother me as much as it did before, you know, before I met you, and it’s probably because I wasn’t intoxicated or the fact that I’m actually trying now and he still thinks I’m useless. He wants me out of the will.”

“He’s jealous that he’s the problematic child now, not you.” Making your way up the bed, you’re seated on top of the covers, settled adjacent to Jungkook. “If it makes you feel any better, I think you’re way more useful than you had been initially. I usually do the dishes at my parents’ house, mostly because I’m the middle child, but you did it for me instead. I consider that a huge accomplishment from who you were before.”

As much as he hates to admit how warm and fuzzy he feels inside just from that small achievement, it’s a resemblance of the time when he was younger and won an award for being most creative in his kindergarten class. How are you able to lift up his mood so easily by just saying a few words?

“I… is Hoseok really pissed?”

“A bit,” you reply sincerely and apologetically, even though none of this had been your fault. “He’s been in love with her even before I met him. She was all he could talk about, and I guess she finally gave him a shot, only to drop him a month later. I don’t know much about her, but I know she’s a gold digger from the stories he shared.”

Jungkooks face drops when his gaze meets yours. “Have you ever told him that?” You laugh—the melody that practically heals his wounds on the spot. “No, are you crazy? He’s blinded by love, Jeon, and any interference with that, I’m done for, probably cut out entirely from his life. Have you never been in love before?” 

He wants to say that he hasn’t, not until he met you, but you continue without expecting a response from him anyway. “Well, that’s just how he is. You could tell him a billion times that this girl isn’t for him but he’s never going to care about what I say until something actually happens.”

“I really care about Hoseok, though, and I want the best for him.” His doe-brown eyes are glossy, full of cherish for his friend. “And he cares for you too, Jeon. Just give him some time.” Quickly, Jungkook twists away, gaze avoiding yours as he clears his throat a couple times.

“Are you... okay?”

“Y-Yeah,” He says, choking up on his own words. “Hurts a little. Hoseok is strong.”

You furrow your brows. “Hey, look at me.” He doesn’t react. “Jeon,”

“Can... you give me some space?” 

Pulling your lips into a straight line, you contemplate whether or not to listen to his words or go against him. He’s been living in a home full of people yet still feeling alone, with no one to listen to his perspective on things. Maybe it’s time you change that.

Abruptly, you swing your leg over his thighs, hands cupping his cheeks just like you did that fateful night. He swore his heart stopped beating. “What are you—” There’s tears brimming in his eyes, you realize, with some escaping, trailing down his cheek. He sniffles. “You’re crying?” You’re stating the obvious, yet somehow it comes out as a question. “Don’t cry. Why are you crying?”

“I’ve never had a friend love me before, a friend who actually liked me for me and only wanted to spend time with me because of who I was, not who my family was. Did I really fuck up with Hoseok?” You frown, thumb rubbing against his cheek to wipe away his tears. Truthfully, you never really knew how to react when someone fell apart like this, but with Jungkook, it felt natural, the comforting. It might’ve been the sunlight peering through the windows of your room that made everything toasty, thawing out your cold heart, or it was just Jungkook. “Maybe. But I doubt he wouldn’t give you a chance to explain yourself though. I mean, yeah, you’re bruised all over because he really beat you up... but, I’m sure this evens things out. Plus, I’m your friend and I love you too.”

He sighs, shoulders plunging with his hands creeping up to your waist unconsciously, tenderly steering you to sit on his thighs. Swallowing at the feeling of his body flattened against yours, you’re attempting to shake your head from the dirty thoughts. Jungkook feels at ease, detecting the words come from your mouth, yet he wants more. He craves for more, especially since that night in Busan and he isn’t sure he can hold himself back anymore.

“I... What happened that night in Busan?” Lifting your weight off him, he only stops you by putting down more pressure to stop your escape. Despite being in an awful lot of pain, he still manages to overpower you in strength. “Please don’t avoid this. If Jongseok didn’t come to our door that night, it would’ve led to something more. I want to know, please, what does it mean?” Cheeks burning, you stare at the wooden headboard behind him, except Jungkook knows your next steps before you do because his finger is already on your chin, guiding your view back onto him. He doesn’t need to say anything because the look he gives you says it all, tell me.

“Okay, okay,” You cringe, the idea of talking about this makes your stomach feel queasy and want to recoil in dread. “White flag. I’ll talk.”

“Enough of this white flag nonsense, just tell me.”

Belatedly gathering enough courage, you spill. Although your heart feels like it’s jumping through hoops from suspense, you realize that you can’t hold yourself back any longer anyway. “I’m... attracted to you, alright? I mean, I’m not sure how I feel about you 100% emotionally, because I still feel like we’re on different pages here, but I feel like I kind of like you? If this goes any further, I wouldn’t necessarily be opposed to it.”

That’s... it? Admittedly so, Jungkook was hoping for more of a confession, something along the lines of, ‘I really like you, Jungkook’ but he’d have to settle for this. This was definitely a step closer to where he wants to be. “So... you’d date me, that is. There’s still an opening somewhere.”

“I-I mean, I guess so... why?”

“Because well, I can’t stop thinking about that night, and I know that for sure that I like you.” He discloses. “And if there’s even a bit of an opening, I want a shot at it.”

You scoff. “With me? You want an actual shot with me? After spending time with my family, you want to still try to swoon me?” There’s a smile tugging on Jungkook’s lips; there’s a blackish-bluish bruise underneath his eye, the side of his lips red and blotchy and the entirety of his body is either swollen or bruised, and yet, he still endures the pain to be beaming brighter than the stars. “Of course, you met my family, right? Yours is nothing complicated in comparison... well, maybe your sister. But for once, I feel like I belong here, with you, I feel like I’m home. So, will you give me a chance to win you over?”

“Don’t you think you’re rushing this whole thing? This... you thinking you like me kind of thing.”

“Are you going to keep wasting your time?” He blurts, a hint of annoyance in his tone. “You wasted how long with some guy only for him to ditch you for your sister. What about your happiness, and what you want? None of this is fair to you. What if I could possibly give that to you, that happiness? Would you actually give me a chance?”

Sincerely, you didn’t know what the relationship with Jungkook held and what it would mean in the future. But what he asserts is right with the things he repeats in Busan about being selfish for once replays in your head again, and you finally decide to take a shot at it.

Was it the high of saying ‘yes, okay’ to Jungkook or the painkillers he took earlier because when your lips meet with his, he feels like he’s floating in mid-air. Your tongue is wet and soft when it fights with his, and when his hands on your waist pull you in closer, the bulge in his pants isn’t discreet, raging for attention, twitching against your thigh while your fingers knots through his hair tightens in response to your bottom lip suddenly tucked in between his teeth. The room feels steaming hot, especially when your hips start to move against his, emitting a groan from him as hand trails down to your ass to give it a harsh squeeze in consequence. His jeans from last night are still on and they’re straining in his crotch uncomfortably.

This is escalating so fast—just as quickly as his heart is beating in his chest, almost popping out of his chest cavity. Your natural scent is intoxicating, clouding up his mind to the point that he doesn’t think he needs the alcohol to forget the pain his family has caused him anymore, because you’re mending the pieces of him together. Your hands trail down to his neck, tugging him closer before they wander down to his biceps, giving him a gentle squeeze that releases a wince from him. 

Just as abrupt as the kiss, you pull away with a concerned and panic expression, with your mouth open in aghast. “Oh my god— I forgot you were still injured—” As you’re trying to move back, you stumble on his legs and collapse onto the floor.

“What— hey, are you okay?” He says, breathless as he leans over to check on you sprawled on the floor. Swiftly hopping back on your feet, he observes you clearly with your hair disheveled, cheeks tinted pink, and swollen lips. There’s a look of achievement on his face from the sight of a disoriented you. “Uh, um, yeah. I-I’m good,” Flustered, you push a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m... I’m going to get dinner ready for the both of us, uh, I’m going to leave you to it,” you’re awkwardly gesturing his crotch before rushing out the room and slamming the door shut.

He can only laugh at your reaction. At least his week wasn’t that bad after that kiss, right?

Jungkook stirs awake from the sound of chatter in the living room, voices familiar that he can associate them as yours and Hoseok’s. Unexpectedly, he sounds melancholic, the muffled sounds from your walls, almost to the point of whimpering mixed with your soft assuring words. He figures he should get a closer perspective of this, maybe enough where he can make out what the two of you are conversing about.

He’s not far off from shrieking when he angles his leg too far, but he bites his bottom lip in prevention of any sound, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the torment. Careful, he reiterates like a mantra in his head, chanting it until it’s engraved in his brain. When he reaches the door, he opens it slowly and just barely, to peek out and see the scene unfold before him.

“She told me that they didn’t do anything,” Hoseok exclaims, face in his hands as his elbows are resting on his knees. “That she chose to be there, and Jungkook was just lounging on the couch. That if anything, she wanted him to fuck her. Isn’t that ridiculous? How could she say that?”

You’re seated on the armrest of the loveseat, hand rubbing against Hoseok’s back soothingly. “I know, Hobi, I know. You might’ve been the right one for her, but at the end, she wasn’t the right one for you.”

“I could’ve changed,” He emphasizes, spinning his gaze to meet yours. His eyes are crimson and swollen from his tears, restlessness fills in those orbs. “I love her so much.”

“Well, and you love Jungkook. He’s in the other room, beat up and crying because he thought he lost you. He didn’t do anything wrong and you tore him to shreds! Earlier when we were making—“ You pause, clearing your throat when you realize where you were leading the conversation, Hoseok raising a brow in confusion at the action. “Earlier, I mean, I went to check on him and he was whining in pain. You really hurt him, Hoseok, and not just physically either. He’s both hurt emotionally and physically.”

He frowns. “I mean, I guess... I guess it wasn’t his fault.”

“There’s no guessing, idiot. It wasn’t. He was honestly too wasted to even realize that she was sitting beside him. Poor kid reeked of alcohol that I almost made him sleep on the porch. But he would’ve gotten robbed so... I let him stay in my room and I slept on the couch.” Jungkook glowers at the thought of you struggling to find comfort on the small sofa, wishing you would’ve chosen to sleep by him instead.

“Can I... talk to him?” Hoseok finally asks, looking down at his hands in embarrassment. His knuckles were red, contused from the one-sided fight he had with Jungkook the night before. “I fucked up, and I’m sure he thinks that he really fucked up.”

You hum for a moment before an idea pops into mind. “How about... you go out and get takeout? I’ll check on him, prep him for your appearance, and then you guys can hash it out?”

You don’t take no for an answer, pushing Hoseok out the door shortly, and a soft smile tugs on the edges of Jungkook’s lips before he lightly shuts the door and tip toes back into bed, pretending to be deep in slumber.

When you come into the room afterwards with a wet rag in hand and a bucket of warm water, his heart swells. Patting the towel against his wounds while seated at the edge of the bed, he hastily has a hand wrapped around your wrist, shocking you in the midst of your activity. “Oh— you’re awake?” He gingerly kisses the palm of your hand, heat clogging your face . “Yeah. And, thank you. For everything. I owe you a lot.”

“I—uh, maybe you’ll reciprocate this for me as well, one day?” You respond dubiously. “But... you also might not know how to do it so—“

“Are you still trying to make jabs at me after I made such a sweet comment?”

“Well, I’m just being honest, do you even know how to take care of another person?” You shoot back. “You couldn’t even get yourself back home, I had to be called and drag you back here myself, and my god, you’re heavy—“ He hauls your arm closer, dragging you along with it until your nose is inches away from his. “Can I kiss you again? I miss the way your lips feel with mine.” Even when he says the words in a volume that’s barely a whisper, his breath fans against your skin harshly, causing goosebumps to crawl up your spine.

The door pounds shut and before you can tear away from Jungkook’s hold, Hoseok is already standing in the threshold of the bedroom, mouth wide open in shock before it immediately fades into a mischievous grin. “What did I tell you, Kook? Which one was it first? You or her?”

[pointnumbersixteen]

How do you see The Captain's coming out, and growth in confidence and self acceptance thereafter taking place?

I like this question! …and I’m probably going to elaborate on it a bit more than many people will want to read (I noticed back when I was regularly writing essay length posts that they did not get a lot of love) and it’s probably going to get even more ramble-y than usual (brain has not been braining as cooperatively as it should recently and the decision to drink half a bottle of wine right before answering this- sorry- probably does not help), but here we are.  

 About coming out scenarios, none of mine are particularly elaborate. While I do think he needs to come out for his story line to progress, I can’t imagine him making a big thing out of it (long or elaborate announcements, heart-to-hearts, emotional displays of bearing his authentic self or any of the like), either with the group, or person-by-person, for several reasons:

First off, that sort of a coming-out to-do is a more modern notion, and I doubt he was a particularly modern person even when he was alive, seventy-five years ago. His notions of privacy and propriety are probably much more conservative than ours, and I feel like that makes it unlikely that he’d go into any sort of detail, at least at early in this process, about his feelings/emotions or the specificities of his attractions. We’re talking about a man who doesn’t even use his own name. It’s difficult to picture him going into depth about his desires and love life.

Secondly, he’s a bit of a social coward. (He’s not a physical coward, of course, he jumped on that bomb in the garden without hesitation, and acknowledged after the fact that he gotten caught up in the moment, and therefore hadn’t really thought about how a bomb couldn’t hurt him.) And I get it, I’m a bit of a social coward, too, so no judgement. He probably faced a lot of ridicule in his life. Being a social coward is totally fair. But he doesn’t put himself into situations that might involve awkward interpersonal interactions if he can help it, and legs it whenever interactions he’s already in become to awkward for him. I feel like he’s probably quite desperate (although he’d never admit to it) to save face and protect what bits of his ego remain unscathed.

Think about it: he could have spoken to Fanny on his own about her nightly screaming disturbing him in s1e1, they have a clear association established at the outset of the show, they leave Heather’s room together at the end of the very first scene, but he doesn’t do so until he has the weight of the whole group to back him up about the screaming at their meeting. He had to buck up his courage and give himself his little ‘over the top we go’ pep talk before going to speak to Alison in Gorilla War. Also, if there was actually something wrong with his soldiers’ horseplay after hours in Reddy Weddy- if it was breaking regulations or even his own orders for quiet hours- and he heard it, he could have gone down directly when he heard it, confronted whoever was involved and order them to stop or put them on report. But no, instead he addressed the entire group of soldiers in a sixteen point morning brief. He even dispatched Pat to confront Alison about the party in s2e2, instead doing it himself… and spit out his apology/reconciliation with Pat at the end as fast as possible. And as for legging it when things get awkward, see his retreats following the group confronting him in Getting Out and after Alison telling him he wasn’t needed in the Grey Lady- and on a more figurative than literal level, but most relevantly, his quick turn from ‘I’ll miss you’ to ‘we’ll miss you’ with Havers in Reddy Weddy.

This is not a man who wants to be in awkward or embarrassing situations. And I think that coming out, at least at first, will probably be a bit embarrassing for him- it was scandalous in his time, and I think it will take him longer to get over that feeling and come to terms with himself than it will to finally acknowledge that he’s gay. So I doubt he’d make more of it than he utterly feels he has to, at least at first. And of course, he’d have to be a bit afraid that people would judge him or stop associating with him over it, as sadly, in his own time many people would have done, and most of the ghosts are from even earlier times than he was. So that might add more hesitation…

And thirdly, he doesn’t like and/or respect many of his house mates. The other twentieth century ghosts are the only ones he spends much time with. I doubt he’d go out of his way to communicate much of anything to the rest if it wasn’t “mission related” much less discuss his sexuality with them. He mostly disregards Humphrey. See his, “Oh, it’s you.” Mary obviously doesn’t like him and he only associates with her when it might be useful for his ‘missions.’ He clearly doesn’t think much of Thomas and doesn’t really even bother including him in his plans. These aren’t people he’s going to have heart-to-hearts with.

With those constraints in place, here’s a non-exhaustive list of possibilities by which I might see his coming out finally happening. They’re really just scenarios I made for myself on how I might see him coming out and I like to keep my options open (the first three are strategies he might go for, the last is an alternate scenario, presented in decreasing levels of directness on his part):

1) The ‘pull the bandage off quickly and hope it doesn’t sting too much’ strategy.

The Captain waits for the end of one of their various group activities or meetings, where all announcements seem to be made, gets up, clears his throat, stammers a bit, announces it tersely, using the most proper popular word for homosexuality that existed in his time (think: “Heh-hem. Er. Um. Well. It has recently come to my attention that I am- er- well- as it happens- gay. I, uh, thought it should be noted. That is all.”), and then beats a hasty retreat, so he doesn’t have to try to cope with the potentially negative aftermath. Of course, there isn’t a negative aftermath, because many of the ghosts already have guessed and the rest don’t really care. Someone, probably Pat, because he does the bulk of the emotional labor in the group, and more importantly, he’s Cap’s closest friend, would have to go after him. He would of course be initially defensive, and Pat would have to sooth his feathers a bit- or maybe just spit it out over his defensiveness- that he guessed a long time ago and so had plenty of other people, and they were just waiting for him to be ready, and really, it’s fine, and no one’s going to disown him for it.  

2) The ‘well maybe I should tell my friends with the hope they support me’ strategy.

He gets together with a small group, the people whose company he actually values, definitely Fanny and Pat, maybe Julian, probably Alison either at the same time or after he finishes with his ghosts pals, and says it in much the same way as the previous scenario, but waiting for their reactions rather than retreating straight away. Pat and Alison, I expect, would answer with something like ‘yeah, we figured that one out a long time ago, actually, and it’s completely fine’ and Julian’s reaction would probably be something like, ‘well, obviously.’ Fanny’s had a lot of character growth since season one, when I expect her reaction would have been very shrill and judgmental, probably still would be a touch less warm and/or nonchalant, but I picture it as something like a sigh, followed by a pat on the arm and something like, ‘well, I still like you better than everyone else here, anyway.’ Word would eventually trickle to everyone else by way of social osmosis. Or not. No one seems to care if Humphrey or the plague ghosts are well informed.  

3) The ‘I’m not brave enough to actually go through the process of actually telling anyone anything about me so let’s just drop hints and hope everyone figures it out without making a big deal about it’ strategy.  

The indirect approach (I’m rather fond of this one, but mostly because it was my own primary coming out approach)… he first sends out feelers to certain people on the topic of homosexuality, probably Alison, since she’s modern, hosted a lesbian wedding, and very much implied that she’d be ready to keep scandalous secrets for him in Reddy Weddy, and  possibly maybe also Julian, as he’s the most sexually experienced/knowledgeable, and after Alison spent a while inundating him with ‘it’s okay to be gay’ messages (along with a sudden and entirely unexplained influx of LGBT media) as she’s socially clever enough to see that’s what he’s looking for and after Julian spent a while telling him probably far more than he ever actually wanted to know about the potentialities of gay sex, that might boost the Captain’s confidence enough to let him start dropping hints to people, instead of telling them outright (consciously commenting on the attractiveness of men they see rather than occasionally accidentally blurting it out- see ‘the handsome one’- occasionally putting forth an opinion or stance on the LGBT world ‘it would have been nice if gay marriage was acceptable when I was alive,’ maybe occasionally mentioning how certain men would make cute couple), expecting them to meet him in the middle and figure out the point on their own… of course, many of them have already realized, so this isn’t a problem. It’s entirely possible, though, that Mary (world view not terribly grounded in reality) and Kitty (lack of life experience and/or instruction about life, see the how are babies made subplot) never pick up the hints on their own and someone else eventually has to tell them.

4) The ‘someone puts him out of his misery’ scenario.

Cap acknowledges to himself that he’s gay first and then, wishing to avoid embarrassment or lack of acceptance, obviously, awkwardly, painfully tries to disguise it and in doing so draws attention to it, until a third party decides to put him out of his misery and tell him that many of them figured it out ages ago and that everyone is fine with it. Maybe Pat. Maybe Alison. I kind of like the idea of it being Fanny (with her lovely character growth and her couple of suspicious glances his way in the Perfect Day), actually, by way of something like ‘You know, I was entirely prepared to continue on living with my husband, George, keeping his secrets, about the, uh, sort of person he was, and you’re at least one better than him, given that you at least never murdered me- or, for that matter, never married some poor woman you had no interest in to shield yourself from scrutiny… and so, what I’m saying is, I wouldn’t turn my back on you for being the, uh, sort of person you are, either, and maybe things have progressed enough that you don’t actually have to keep secrets at all.’ Cap would take all of this in with a mixture of mortification and relief. I’m rather fond of this scenario, too.  

 As for the second bit of the question, once his sexuality is out there, though, and no one judges him or hates him for it- and some are quite supportive- I do see him becoming more self-accepting. If no one’s judging him, does he need to judge himself so harshly? And also more confident. Because some of those things that he’s always felt different about and in the past has probably been ridiculed about in the past (even if he’s in denial about being gay, he and quite a few other people had to at the very least note that he’s not particularly interested in women), are, apparently just fine now. So he’s a bit more just fine now himself. And that weight of always trying to be someone else, someone who’s just right, can lift and he can relax a bit more. And that would probably help him a lot, too. I see it as a slow sort of thawing process. No matter what way he comes out, I still see Alison as very helpfully providing a variety of LGBT media to help this process along. And maybe he’d eventually get to the point where he processed enough and warmed up enough to be able to talk more in depth, at least with his friends, about what it was like being him in repressed pre-war Britain, and what sort of men he’s attracted to (I enjoy the idea of him and Fanny- gradually overcoming her own repression- scoping out hot men together). Maybe he’ll even luck out one of his male housemates will decide (or has already decided) that bisexuality is a valid option and he’ll get a date (insert whichever ghost y’all ship him with here). I bet Alison would totally help him set up a nice date, too, with her convenient still-functional-in-the-mortal-realm hands. And it would be nice to maybe see him get a taste of actual happiness.    

[serenityseventeen]

Love & Letter: To The Thirteen Boys I've Loved Before

The Ninth Letter

----------------

To: Kim Mingyu

From: Y/N

Dear Mingyu, are you doing well?

Well, we don't see each other often anymore so I'm always wondering that. We used to always bump into each other at the grocery store or the mall. Now, I don't even see you anywhere.

I don't blame you for it. Now that we've broken up, I can feel your love. The love that you gave me when we were together still lingers. I haven't forgotten about you yet. Do you know why? It's because I'm convinced. I still love you.

These days, even after breaking up with you, I still think back on our sweet moments. I stayed up late a few days ago, just thinking back on our relationship and how far in love we were.

Before I go to sleep, I always feel the empty space beside my bed for you. You came by to my dormitory whenever you had the chance and would sleep in my bed because you said you missed me. Thank God my dormitory allowed visitors because if it didn't, we would have seen each other even less.

Even if I was just working on school assignments on my laptop, you would crawl beside me and sleep. Sometimes, no, every time, I couldn't stop myself from messing up your soft hair. You didn't want to bother me and just wanted to be by me so you slept, right?

Well, you sleeping was just as big of a distraction.

I promised to tell you on your birthday when and why I fell for you. Today is your birthday. April 6th.

I'll tell you, in this letter.

It wasn't on the first day that I began working at the cafe with you that I fell for you. I started working at the cafe in the middle of summer break for more money and you were my senior. You know how hard it was for me. I needed money for living expenses and my father was hospitalized for cancer.

I'll get back to the subject. I started falling in love with you because...well, you were you. Your personality, just the way you were made me gradually fall for you. You made my heart flutter and race with your gentle and caring actions. You were also funny and kind and clumsily cute.

Before I met you, I was battling a small heartbreak. I lost one of my friends because I liked them romantically. I was going to push myself away from love because you know, loving me is like a curse. I didn't want to fall in love again but then you... I met you.

At first, I was growing a bit suspicious of you? I was starting to think that you liked me when you always hovered over me and lingered behind me. You also held my hand frequently to ‘help’ me.

I didn't think much of it until I saw your eyes and smile. I always thought that I fell in love way too easily but I don't know how I was able to resist you. That's when your indirect back hugs began to make my heart pound.

Summer break was almost over and I became sure of my feelings the more that I hung out with you. We would also coincidentally meet each other at the grocery store, food markets, and malls, and we were able to hang out together that way too. Shopping with you was fun and memorable.

Since summer break was coming to an end, I didn't want to go back to college with a lump in my chest. I just felt like I should tell you about my feelings while not expecting us to date.

So, that's how I asked you out.

I made sure that it was only us in the kitchen of the cafe. I was pretty confident that you liked me back but I still wanted to ask.

We were washing dishes when I said, “Mingyu, I like you. What do you think of me?”

“You? Of course, I like you too.”

I won't lie, the answer got me a bit disappointed at first, but then you kissed me softly on the lips afterward and made me realize otherwise.

I liked the romance we had. There was no one to tell us apart. At work, when we were alone, you would become all lovey-dovey with me, sneaking kisses and grabbing my hand. I liked it. It gave me this feeling of... Youthful romance?

With you, I was able to overcome everything hard. College was kicking me constantly but I was always excited to come to work. I was always excited for the weekend because we could just lay in each other's arms. We would go on classic dates, holding hands, walking. Mingyu, it was because of you that I was able to smile.

You even visited my father with me, bringing delicious foods that you made yourself. Do you know how grateful I am for that? I always thanked you but I am truly thankful. My dad liked you a lot and wanted to see you often. Seeing you two get along made me happy.

I was really happy but of course, the curse had to strike and everything we built had to come tumbling down.

We didn't last long enough to even celebrate your birthday, which is regretful. I actually already had a gift for you, a nice watch because you recently broke yours, but I guess I can't give it to you. Maybe I'll slip the watch in the envelope with this letter.

I know for you, it'd be hard to believe what I'm about to say but please, believe me. I was cowardly and because I didn't want to hurt you more in the future, I made that decision.

Mingyu, I know I still love you.

Maybe there was a chance that we would break through and not drift apart but to me, that's nothing but assumptions and I don't want to get ahead of myself.

College is tough and I'm sure you understand that. After I got fired from the cafe, I knew that I wouldn't be able to see you that much anymore. Plus, you also know that I started taking more part-time jobs to pay for my father's hospital bills and my own living. We both needed money just as much as we needed each other.

Maybe if I made the decision of ignoring that guy, I wouldn't have gotten fired; but I couldn't stand it. I saw you too, clenching your fist as you watched, I just got to the guy before you did. I mean, how could he so publicly harass one of the waitresses? I was so angry and got out of control, so I threw a milk bottle at him. I don't know if I should regret that choice.

I don't want you to think that you were nothing but filler, something to fill in my romance cravings amidst my hectic schedules. I truly loved you and I know that because I feel it. I can feel this strong desire to stay with you, see you smile, spend time with you...

And if you read this letter, you might ask, “Then why did you break up with me if you felt like that?”

Well, I didn't want to become a burden.

The day was already gloomy and the weather said it was going to rain. I asked to meet up and when you rushed over, I could tell that you already knew what was coming.

I don't have enough time for love. My weekends became bombarded with part-time jobs so I was rarely at the dormitory. My schedules became hectic and school just made it harder for us to see each other.

It was beginning to rain when I started talking.

“Mingyu, I think we should stop seeing each other; we don't even see each other often.”

“But it's fine, isn't it? Why would we...”

“You know how it is for me.”

“It'll be fine, Y/N. I'll be here for you no matter what.”

I shook my head.

“Let's just break up.”

I don't know what was going on in your head but I'm sure you were angry. I couldn't read your eyes and I couldn't tell what you were thinking because I was consistently repeating to myself in my head while holding back my tears, ‘I'm sorry’.

“Why? We can overcome this! I'm sure I can help your father get better. We can live together, we can help each other.”

“I'm sorry, Mingyu.”

I remember you took my hand when as I was turning to leave. I almost cried.

“Why?” You asked. “I know we can...”

“Mingyu... don't get ahead of yourself. I don't want to ruin our relationship because of my problems.”

It was painful for me to let you go. I just gave you my umbrella and boarded the bus. You were too late and started chasing it but didn't catch up. I began crying so much that I had to cover my face and mouth. I'm sure people were looking at me. With rain pattering the windows, my tears flowed.

I hope that somewhere, you have left a trace of me.

I have a feeling that somehow, I could have chosen a better solution for this problem. Now that I'm spending a few days back here at my house, I miss you more than usual. I dream every day that maybe, we'll meet again coincidentally and you had been waiting for me, but who am I to think that when I was the one who ended it?

You've stopped posting on your social media.

Yesterday night, I looked back on our pictures in my photo gallery and my heart ached so much. Just seeing your smile was enough to cheer me up but break me down at the same time.

I wanted to reach out to you today and wish you a happy birthday. I kept typing and erasing, typing and erasing, and in the end, I didn't send any sort of text. Your birthday is almost over and I haven't said anything nor have I given you my gift. I'm sorry. If I do send the gift, maybe we'll see each other again, but at the same time, I'm afraid to see you again.

Your puppy-like personality, your sweet words, your soft gestures, your smile that can light up my world, your everything that I loved, I miss it all. Will time do its work?

Maybe one day I will move on and forget you.

I don't think we have another chance.

You probably feel betrayed that I don't think our love was powerful enough to overcome my problems. Was I selfish? I think so. Now that I think about it, I didn't want to drag you into my problems but I didn't give you much chance to speak. I didn't want to hurt you but even then, I only thought about myself. I guess I didn't want the guilt of having you bear my problems with me. I was selfish and didn't consider anything else.

I couldn't think of any other solution.

If we did continue dating, would it have been better or worse for us? Would we have broken up with bigger scars or would we have continued our love with stronger hearts?

Yes, I was stupid. I'm a fool and I'm sorry. I won't be mad if you resent me because I'm just a cowardly fool. This letter makes me realize that now, belatedly.

All this time, I thought I was doing something right by not taking you into hell with me.

In the end, I still don't know if I chose the best choice for us.

Yours truly,

Y/N

-----------------

© serenityseventeen

7/2/21 - 3:17 pm

a/n: I have finally learned the chorus choreography to RTL. It's not as hard as Home or Getting Closer but it's also tiring lol. I need to work more on my posture and angles to make it look good. What should I learn next...?

[belfrygargoyles]

I Answer Questions I Get About Star Wars Fanfiction

So, when I made this post a while back, I did end up getting quite a few people coming to me for advice!

And while I was happy to give what help I could through tumblr DMs, there was also quite a bit I was realizing was a bit Much to be conveyed just through the DM format.

So, while this is by no means a catch-all, comprehensive list of what to do and what not to do, I thought I’d make a post going into a bit more detail! I’ll specifically be addressing questions/concerns that have been brought to me, mostly

Because of the specific subject matter of the original post, most of the question askers were white/cis/het women, so much of what I cover will be directed at authors of that specific demographic.

The brunt of the post is about writing reader-characters of different demographics and why “gender-neutral” reader-inserts tend to fail to reach that mark, but the first two points I address are related to racism and fetishism in writing. Because of this, I want to preface: I am White, and I will never be an authority on what is or is not racist or fetishistic. These are questions I, specifically, have received, and needed more space to elaborate on. Everything I say, I have learned by listening to fans of color speaking out about the ways they and characters of color are treated and by doing my own research into the subject- my experience and advice is not exhaustive, I cannot cover every important facet, and my word should never, ever come before that of a person of color speaking about the same subject.

If while reading, you come across something that is not true, is offensive, harmful, or otherwise just not good advice for me to give, please contact me and I will remove or edit as needed.

I’m a White, cishet woman, and I like to write fanfiction about characters I find attractive who are men of color. How can I avoid writing fetishistic or racist stereotypes? 

To recognize fetishism, you first need to understand racial stereotypes and why they’re harmful, even if they’re “positive.”

First thing’s first: there is no such thing as a positive stereotype. All stereotypes bring with them the very real potential to harm people, demean or belittle them, isolate them, impact their social life, work environment, and how they interact with the world and the people around them, regardless of race, gender, sexual orientation, religion, culture, or body type.

It is very important that you seek out and listen to the word of these people themselves. Understand why it is harmful to write a story about a “savage” tribal man seducing a White colonizer (and why “savage” is a terrible word to use to describe someone in the first place). Understand why it is suspicious to be obsessed with the sexual prowess of dark-skinned men. Understand why the common tropes and stereotypes you see associates with people of color are harmful, and understand that this is not about you. This is not about what you want to see as a reader, this is not about the specific fantasies you want to write out with a certain character, this is not about your fulfillment and enjoyment, because you are the person writing and putting your writing into the world for others to see and consume. The way you portray your characters and the situations they are in is important.

Second: you need to learn how to step back and examine your own thoughts and behavior for bias, conscious and subconscious.

Would you think the same way about a character if they were a woman? Would you write a character with the same personality if they were White? Would you think two characters have the same romantic tension and chemistry if they were different genders?

For example: In the game Subnautica: Below Zero, the player character is Robin, a Black woman. At some point in the game, she expresses defensiveness in response to unintentionally rude remarks about the human body, from a source that would have no idea that it was rude. Her offense and defensive tone is not at all unwarranted or unreasonable, nor does she hold a grudge, but upon first playthrough I found myself thinking, “man, Robin’s kind of a bitch.”

Then I remembered the fact that Black women are frequently seen as aggressive, rude, and “pushy,” and that Black women in media are commonly seen by (White) fans as “mean” in comparison to other (White) characters who act the same way, if not worse. I realized that at no point in the game does Robin ever act spiteful, cruel, selfish, or vindictive towards the source of the offending comments. She was someone who was proud of her physical capabilities and the hard work she put into her body’s fitness, and she was not in the wrong for getting offended at the implication that her body was flawed or inefficient. Throughout the game, Robin is patient, driven, compassionate, and forgiving, and expresses grief, frustration, offense, and anger as is appropriate for the situations she finds herself in.

What I had done was subconsciously put Robin in a set box of character traits based off of racist stereotypes and characterizations frequently seen in media and fanworks. I didn’t realize I was doing it in the moment, and had to take a step back to examine the source media and my own behavior, and realized I was projecting a completely false idea of what Robin, a Black woman, should be like as a character.

That is an example of subconscious racial bias. Subconscious racial fetishism can look more like...

- Believing male characters of color all have insatiable sexual appetites and massive penises

- Automatically headcanoning characters who are large, burly, strong, or aggressive as Black or dark-skinned

- Putting East Asian women on a pedestal for being beautiful, pure, innocent- or, on the flip side, as beautiful and “please queen roundhouse kick me” treating her as “beautiful but fierce.”

These examples, alone, in singular instances, aren’t fetishism- headcanoning a single man of color as sexual and being well-endowed isn’t fetishism alone, headcanoning a single physically large and strong character as Black isn’t fetishism, thinking an East Asian woman is exceptionally beautiful and elegant isn’t fetishism.

It’s how you do it in relation to how you interact with other characters. Do you only ever write about a male character of color in a highly sexualized context or only ever talk about how big his penis is and what you want him to do to you? Is that large and forceful character the only one you headcanon as having dark skin? Do you fawn over East Asian women as beautiful goddesses and “dragon ladies” but never actually explore them as anything else but just being there for decoration?

(Warning for the next paragraph: intersex fetishism, racist tropes in Star Wars fandom)

Something I commonly see in the Star Wars sphere of fandom is, particularly with the clones, use of the word “savage” or “feral.” For the sake of not singling anyone out, I won’t use URLs, but an example I recently saw firsthand was a prompt about Stewjonis (e.g. Obi Wan) all being intersex and “fertile” and as such exceptionally desirable to the clones, described as having a “hunger” and having “savage, animalistic instincts,” including having a violent, animalistic rage they unleash when they think the White man they think they own is in danger.

The author is fetishizing intersex people (making Obi Wan, a White man being paired with brown men, intersex for the sole purpose of making him “fertile” and able to be impregnated for the sake of a breeding kink- he’s not written as intersex just to be intersex representation, he’s written as an idealized fantasy of intersex for the sake of keeping him “male” but also able to get pregnant to fulfill the author’s bioessentialist fantasies of aggressive, animalistic cis men of color inherently desiring and being unable to help their “instincts” around a “fertile mate.”) and using a common racist stereotype for brown men: that they are “savage,” “animalistic,” sexually aggressive, sexually driven, violent, and sexually dominating over “smaller” (Ewan Mcgregor is 5′10, Temuera Morrison is 5′7. Even if you headcanon the clones as 6′0, as Wookieepedia defaults every adult male human to, that’s still only two inches of difference) light-skinned love interests (who have a vagina).

At a very, very basic level, I can get why the idea of such a dynamic might be appealing: the idea of someone finding you desirable and protecting you/fighting for you without reservation, the idea of “instincts” showing someone’s true feelings they can’t fight for you, etc. etc.. When that’s what you’re going for, it’s a case of you really, really needing to think long and hard about the characters you’re using and how you’re portraying them. I mean, you need to really think about it.

And I get it if it’s a trope you really like or a dynamic you really want to write, but I repeat: this isn’t about you. It’s about the image and stereotypes you may or may not be reinforcing about people of color, men of color, and intersex people to yourself and your readership.

This is the best advice I can give you: Take a step back. Check yourself. Check the way you think about a character, the way you write them, and the way they are portrayed in canon. Think about why you want to write the situation you want to write. Think about how you are portraying the character, and how it might be interpreted by people who aren’t in your brain. Ask yourself if you really think the character would act that way, or if that’s just how you think they should act, and then ask yourself why.

If you find that what you are writing might be falling into fetishistic or derogatory tropes or stereotypes, that’s where you stop. Identify what, specifically, about the situation or scenario appeals to you. Identify why the characters appeal to you. See if you can use those elements in a way that doesn’t reinforce those stereotypes.

2. When does a smut fic involving a man of color become fetishistic? What if an author is simply exaggerating pre-existing character traits for the sake of a smut scenario? Is writing characters partaking in specific kinks or tropes fetishism by default because they’re played by men of color?

I’ll go down the line:

- The short answer: when you use fetishistic tropes. The longer answer: when you use tropes in a context that could be considered fetishistic, and do nothing to add depth to the situation. Show that you put thought into your decisions, and show us why you believe the character would do/act/think that way. If you can’t because it doesn’t make sense and it’s just something you want to happen to engineer a specific trope (E.X. Clones never getting any sex ed ever and freaking out at the thought of a vagina), don’t do it. Are you focusing on a character as a dominant party in bed? Then analyze how you’re portraying that, if you’re using animal comparisons, references to how small and petite his submissive partner is, if you’re portraying it as a healthy sexual relationship or if you’re implying that he’s always possessive, domineering, and intimidating towards his partner- it very much helps to have beta readers.

- Then the author needs to put effort into the scenario they’re writing and really examine why those are the character traits they’re exaggerating in a character of color. Why, of all the character’s traits, are you choosing to play up his strength, size, and aggression in the way that you are? If you still really want to write it: write the characters discussing it as a BDSM roleplay scene or show aftercare that tells us that’s not what the character is normally like, but was an act he was putting on in a pre-agreed scenario. Oftentimes, the issue can be that the author makes no effort to show that this isn’t how the character acts outside of the bedroom, or even erases that line completely by showing no difference between how the character treats his partner in day-to-day life and in bed.

- Not at all. You can write Boba Fett being a Dom and having kinky sex all you want- but it needs to make sense. By that I mean-  writing OOC, shallow smut isn’t a sin, but when it involves men of color, especially in situations where they have already been highly sexualized and fetishized, you, as an author have to think about how you’re writing them. You have to think about if you’re just using them as sockpuppets to write out a dom fantasy you already had pre-engineered, and you need to think about why, exactly, you want to use that specific character in that specific role. Are you writing about the character, or are you using their name and face as a prop to play out the fantasy?

3. I’m White/cis/het/female and I write reader-insert fanfiction, I...

a. ...try to keep my readers ambiguous, but I think I still mess up.

First: Accept that some measure of character description is needed for your readers to not feel like they’re inhabiting the fictional body of a ghost. You’ll never be able to be 100% ambiguous, and that’s okay. Parts of who we are and the way we experience the world will always leak into our writing, and that’s just part of the experience. What’s important is that you’re able to recognize where your experiences are not universal, and decide on if that’s something you can change in your writing.

Next: Some basic tips for common whoopsies that are easy to overlook.

- Hair length, color, and texture

Instead of saying something that implies a particular hair type, such as the way it blows in the wind or how the reader-character brushes or styles it, you can reference that they just have hair without going into detail, such as:

“He found himself unable to sleep that night- normally, he would count the rivets in the ceiling until they blurred together, but now he had a new distraction catching his eye. Your hair against his pillow was new, novel- he found his eyes tracing the strands from root to tip, the way the dim light catching on the strands almost hypnotic, and before he knew it he was delicately tracing his fingertips along a patch near your ear that had grown in what was, to his sleep-deprived mind, an utterly fascinating whorl.” Vs. describing a character running his fingers through the reader’s hair.

- Body type

I will say: sometimes, it makes a reader-insert infinitely more engaging if we have just scant details about the reader character, but that’s usually if the details are uncommon in the genre. By this, I mean: if a reader-insert specified that the reader-character was actually buff and very tall, I would already be more invested, because I never see reader-characters like that.

This being said, when you want ambiguity, when it comes to body type avoid referencing the reader’s weight, size, musculature, height, and build- nothing about curves, nothing about hips, nothing about stomachs.

Again, you can reference that the reader has these things, but without specifying that their stomach is flat or their hips are curvy or that they look small and delicate compared to the love interest. What I see the most of is references to the reader being notably shorter, lighter, or weaker than other characters. If someone is targeting the reader over, say, Din, because they look like they’d be an easier target, instead of saying that it’s because the reader is the smaller, “weaker-looking” target, make note of it being because of some other vulnerability- armor, lack of visible weaponry, hands aren’t free, distracted, because they saw the reader choke on an apple seed in the market earlier and it made them think they were incompetent and easy to take out, etc.

- Skin color

This one is the most basic, but also easy to mess up. Along with things like hair type being correlated with race (ie if you describe a reader-character with long, fine, straight hair, you are excluding the possibility of the reader-character being Black), something that can be easy for lighter-skinned authors to forget is that blush, flush, sunburn, and pallor aren’t easily visible on all skin colors.

If you want to write things like that but don’t know how to portray them without indicating skin tone, try instead using temperature. Reference the reader feeling heat rise to their cheeks, or the uncomfortable warmth radiating from a minor burn, or how cold and clammy their skin feels.

- Unnecessary references to the reader’s gender (E.X. gendered bathrooms, dressing rooms, calling the reader-character things like “the girl” or “the woman”)

If you’re writing a fic with a gender-neutral reader, you do not need to use any of those in the story. I promise, you don’t. If you have to, either find a way around it or just... don’t. If you want to make the reader gender-neutral, you don’t need these. I promise.

If you’re writing a gender-neutral but explicitly AFAB reader: also don’t use these, because it defeats the purpose of you saying the reader is supposed to be gender-neutral. In fact, make the reader’s gender the absolute LAST thing you put in the fic. Write the whole thing as if the concept of gender doesn’t exist.

- Typically gendered characteristics such as voice pitch and tone, face shape, chest, hips, hands, height

See above. The thing is, none of these things are inherently indicative of gender, but for many people, they are. If you say you’re writing a gender-neutral reader, but include reference to very feminine-associated traits, you’re telling the reader that you wrote the reader-character as essentially Girl Lite.

Something not enough people realize is that there are AMAB nonbinary people, there are cis AFAB women who are very masculine, and so on. “Gender-neutral” shouldn’t mean “Female 2″ or “tomboy.”

- And think to yourself: Would I write a male character acting this way?

This is... self-explanatory. And also very important. And why I say to make gender the absolute last thing you put in the fic. I’ll talk more about this specifically at the end!

Something important to note: Nonbinary is not the same as gender-neutral!

Nonbinary specifically refers to the gender identity in which you are neither strictly male nor strictly female- your gender identity exists outside of the male-female binary.

Gender-neutral means that references to the reader’s gender are removed and it can be read by someone of any sex or gender without being taken out of the experience by gendered traits or situations.

...want to start writing readers who aren’t like me, but don’t know where to start.

Just do it, really. That’s the best way to do it. You don’t have to make it a major part of the fic!

I can only really speak on the experience of being nonbinary and reading fics written by cis authors, and again, at the very end I’ll go more into personal feelings and experience, but I really do mean just write it. Get a beta reader, or friends to look it over. Ask people from different reader demographics what they want to see. It doesn’t have to change the entire course of your writing.

...am afraid of writing a different kind of reader-character and getting something wrong.

It happens! No one can know every experience under the sun, and if you’re not writing from experience, you’re bound to get one or two details wrong.

But! That shouldn’t stop you from doing it! This is where getting a beta reader or having a discord server really helps, you can get viewpoints from people with different experiences to tell you what does and doesn’t work.

At the end of this post I’ll talk about things I, specifically, would like to see as a trans person, and how being nb affects the way I see things.

4. What’s wrong with dysphoria fics?

from here on out is personal conjecture

Nothing. I just don’t like them because, well.

They’re basically the only time I ever see fics with an explicitly trans reader, and they all follow the exact same formula: Someone or something triggers reader’s dysphoria, the reader is sad and having a bad time, the love interest comes in and validates the reader’s gender and it’s all better.

One: I’ve never seen this done with a trans woman reader.

Two: It’s... tiring, having the only representation you ever see of yourself being about dysphoria. A lot of the fics are written as personal comfort fics or were requested by a trans person with dysphoria, and that’s fine, but I want to see a grand, multi-chapter fic with an engaging plot and reader-character engagement that just... has a trans reader. It’s not a thing, they just are, because trans people’s lives don’t constantly revolve around how trans they are.

There are more “nonbinary” reader fics than there are fics about trans men or trans women. And all the nonbinary readers are AFAB- I have not seen a SINGLE AMAB nonbinary reader-insert in the Star Wars fandom.

It’s just one of those things that is just... it’s not bad, it’s just kind of exhausting? I’m the kind of person who wants to see stories of people like me just on adventures, not more about how miserable we are because our bodies are wrong or something.

I don’t speak for every trans person, I don’t and I never will. But I think a lot of the people who request dysphoria fic... don’t actually want to read about that. Body dysphoria is touted as the defining trans experience, and a lot of people genuinely believe you have to be dysphoric to be trans. Not only is this not true, but it’s also harmful. Hating your body sucks. Hating your body specifically because you know people use it to judge how to treat you super sucks. Thinking you have to hate your body or else you’re not really trans and are just pretending? Ultra suck.

I’m nonbinary, my partner is a trans man. I’ll paste his thoughts on the matter (minor edits to punctuation and paragraph breaks):

“But in all honesty it’s very very tiring, I think the majority of people asking for a dysphoria fic don’t actually realise they want something else. Many trans people feel dysphoria, myself included, but not all of them do, and it doesn’t make them any less trans, but the overall focus on dysphoria has made it this be all end all thing in and out of the trans community. It’s what people often think of when they think of trans people and while it’s certainly a thing, I think the focus has become entirely too toxic. I think newer trans people tend to internalise dysphoria a lot, especially if they don’t experience it to an extent which is ‘acceptable enough to be considered trans’.

Given that context I think that what a lot of people are looking for when they ask writers for dysphoria fics is actually validation and gender euphoria. They want validation of their gender identity because they’ve recently experienced dysphoria and are looking for escapism. It’s something I myself have only come to realise recently despite being out as trans for a considerable amount of time. I don’t expect cis writers to fully understand the intensely personal and nuanced relationship every trans person has with gender and identity, nor do I blame them for using dysphoria as a go-to, especially when the request was for a dysphoria fic. I am however asking writers to instead try more validation and less focus on the bad aspects of being trans such as dysphoria and discrimination.

Again, this is a very complicated subject, and I am only one trans person and one opinion. However I do believe people get stuck in that focus on dysphoria, and it’s not a healthy mindset to be in. For cis writings including trans people in their reader inserts, I’d recommend making them explicitly trans, whether it be male/female/nb, because you cannot have gn pronouns and call it a day, especially not if it’s an nb person because it’s simply not the same as gn pronouns in a fic. Cis writers tend to have a stereotype when it comes to trans people, especially on tumblr where trans men are always seen as soft twinky UwU Bois and it gets real old real fast. I cannot name a single fic I’ve read that’s had a trans reader not in a binder or on hrt. You don’t have to transition to be trans, but it would be nice to see some variation and have some guys only have top surgery or only have bottom surgery or have no surgery and be okay with it. Medically transitioning is by no means the be all end all but every trans experience is unique and it’s very bland to see the same trans story every time you read a reader insert. I am of course speaking from the point of view of a trans man, I can’t imagine what it must be like for trans women because those fics are even less common!“

5. Okay what was it you said earlier about stuff you’d come back to?

Glad you asked!

Look, I’ll be straight up and honest, this is something that’s hard to put into words because it’s such a nebulous experience, and I don’t know how to describe it to cis writers but.

Sometimes the way gender neutral, nonbinary, and trans male readers are written really comes across like the author wrote a female reader and just went back to change the pronouns.

The reason why it’s hard to explain at times is because there’s nothing overt, but there are specific patterns in the way authors write reader characters and their love interests, like... female-coding.

The way the reader-character interacts with the world, the way they’re written interacting with characters, the way characters are written viewing them, the way their body language is described- things that, if you take a step back, you’d realize “oh, I wouldn’t write a cis male character like this.”

Again, it’s... really, really hard to put into words, but it’s a pattern my partner and I have both noticed that’s made it hard to enjoy a lot of trans/nonbinary reader fics. The issue isn’t that the reader-character is feminine in any way, the issue is that that’s all anyone ever writes them like.

Reader-insert fics already have a very homogenized experience of “reader-character is extremely passive in their narrative and has little agency in their story other than to exist alongside a canon character for him to eventually fall in love with.” Even in fics where the reader is explicitly a cis woman, there are these... unnecessary references to her being female that, to me, just seem to serve no purpose.

This is. Incredibly just Me saying this here. But it’s genuine, from someone who hasn’t actually Had A Gender in over a decade now: Is... being a woman really that prominent in cis women’s lives? Is it really that big a part of who you are? I want to know, because it’s so wildly different for me, and if I’m going to give advice on how to write reader-characters of other genders, I kind of. Really need to have that one ironed out.

If your gender plays a large role in who you are and your perception of yourself: that’s great, chase your bliss, it’s good to know who you are and what you’re comfortable with! It’s just a theme I keep seeing in reader-inserts that... takes me out of it? Someone whose gender is featured so heavily in their identity and the way they interact with the world might not realize that, say, a nonbinary person, just... has a completely different relationship with gender.

And I’ll say this, too: Trans men’s experiences and relationships with their gender is also wildly different to that of a cis woman. There is overlap in some places, yes, but it is still a completely different relationship, and cannot be treated as the same.

I think this is where the problem lies, and why I never see trans woman readers or AMAB nonbinary readers: consciously or not, cis female writers write what they know, and are applying their experiences and relationship with gender to trans AFAB readers assuming it will be the same or similar enough.

I will say, as a general rule of thumb: it really is not. Do not treat it like it is, please. This is why I say to write as if gender doesn’t exist. Just write the character, write the story, and then worry about their pronouns. Don’t even think about what they look like or their voice if you find that stopping you.

Write the reader as a character, not as a woman.

Now that that’s out of the way.

6. How can I make my reader-insert stand out?

I’ll let my partner, Felix, take over for this one again:

“People write what they know so expand your knowledge by talking to others.

Reader inserts are often very passive, too. Try to have your reader become the driving force instead of letting plot happen around them. For example, try to imagine why the reader and the characters would have a reason to talk/bond, what would be reasonable motivations for the reader? Why would the characters care about the reader?

Easy ways to do this include having an already established relationship between the reader and character that you can draw from, the reader has to accompany the characters for an amount of time on a joint goal, anything other than ‘reader is sexy lamp and characters like reader because reader is sexy.’ If you’re gonna write about a one night stand, then write about a one night stand, but don’t try to shoe horn in a whole relationship.

if you’re gonna write tropes then you have to:

1) Make it your own. “School for superpowered kids” is the core of several IPs: my hero academia, Harry Potter and xmen, but all of them are very different to each other. If you’re writing for reader inserts, a common trope is ‘reader whisked away by character to start a new life.’ This trope is everywhere, and it’s fine, but art is all about that execution.Think more about why these things are happening; why is the reader being whisked away, why does the character care about them, why would they stay together after the initial danger has passed? Don’t explain it to me either, show me the events leading up to the scene you want. Don’t tell me ‘ever since character rescued reader he’s been in love with them,’ show me those events, show me the lead up, show me why I should give a damn. If the fanfic wasn’t specifically reader insert, would it still be interesting?

2) Execute your tropes well. Execution is the most important thing when it comes to art. You can have the most brilliant idea in the world but if you don’t execute it properly it’s worth about as much as dirt. A movie can have a great idea, but if the pacing is off or the lighting bad or the sound design shit it’s not gonna work is it? Best example are the original Star Wars trilogy vs the prequels, I could go on for ages about the differences between them and the behind the scenes, but the gist is that during the filming of the og trilogy Harrison Ford, Carrie fisher and mark Hamill were constantly rewriting the script during scenes to flow better and sound better, Lucas’ wife was the editor and was the reason we have those great scenes that are seared into the memory of our society.

With the prequels many people had credited Lucas as being the sole reason the og trilogy was so successful, therefore he had more free reign and bogged down the movies with things that, yes, might have been interesting lore wise, but served no purpose for the actual story. His execution was bad. Your execution of your fic doesn’t have to be on the grand scale of a million dollar budget movie, but you do have to make the effort if you want to make a good story. You wanna write a horny smut fic? Power to you, do research into bdsm and healthy safe sex practices. Go into depth about how that makes the characters feel and how it connects to them as people. You can do a fantastic character study just from bdsm practices because of how personal and intimate that situation can be. Even without hard smutty stuff you can still write a deep and personal fic about a character falling in love with the reader if you just take the time to actually develop the relationship between them.”

Phew, that was a lot. Those were really the Main Big Questions I hopefully answered to a satisfactory degree. Ask box is always open, though!

[babysprouseisart]

Honestly more things are pointing to a permanent separation for SH. No indications of any reconciliation sadly. And it makes it even harder without the confirmation. I guess when they start to get papped with their new SOs will be the day that it is confirmed they are done. And I hope it is soon. This push and pull with them is exhausting

Good day, anon, and welcome to hell. Screams for help will not save you, alas, because when it comes to a topic in which I am 99, 9% sure, I have no equals. I'm sorry you probably got the wrong address, but it's too late. I am merciless and bloodthirsty with anyone who tries to contradict my faith, tries to correct my point of view and convince me of their own, although I did not give it a reason. Because it's my fucking blog where I for x-billionth time has already expressed my exact points and agreed with some people which think and proved the exact opposite to all that you are saying. So be prepared to be slowly but surely tortured by my long ass post.

 So, let's start with what I said about my blog: only good vibes here. I am not interested/concerned about other opposite/negative feedings. I just don't want to make a big deal about it. Here, in my blog, we support Lili Pauline Reinhart and Cole Mitchell Sprouse in any case as couple as well as individuals.

 This means that under no circumstances do we talk about them, their relationships, their projects, their family, or their decisions in a negative way. Yes, we may disagree with something they do, where they do it, and how they do it (what they post, what they like/don't like, write or repost, who they meet, with whom they decide to be, live and communicate with, what they archive/unarchive, and so on), but we do not have the right to judge them or decide how to act. We also can't control it and it's none of our business.

 I repent if I once made the appearance of a person condemning one of them or their family for their actions and possible causes of the separation, it was only my objective external disagreement, points and thoughts aloud, nothing more rude, involved and inappropriate. And I think with many of my words said earlier (or the words of those I follow and reblog their posts) about the behavior of family/friends of Lili, Cole, and so on, people with brains and common sense could agree. Remember this, or write it on your forehead, so that the next time you write to me, you will see these words.

 Moving on, taking into account all of the above, I would like to tell you that it probably won't be enough for one blog to explain to you point by point all my beliefs and points of view on this subject, to prove to you that every fucking word you say is illogical shit and the most real nonsense. It feels like you're an alien who fell from another planet and decided to crawl into our hole with your impressions of a newborn baby who doesn't understand much about the world and its creators. Although in this case, I'm more of the opinion that you are a little asshole, in which the vein of hatred is boiling and you like to come to this and some other blogs to tell us your agenda although we have no idea where you have such rash thoughts, perhaps you have an extra chromosome? Dude, treat your paranoia.

 Further, given that I don't have much time and desire to describe all my points of view point by point, which, unlike your random set of words, really makes sense for hundreds or even thousands of people who have the gray matter to be able to think, I will attach my long - standing post, indicating all the facts at that time proving the opposite to yours. Although, I will try to supplement everything else as much as I can.

 While, we all ( I hope) already realized and accepted that for many reasons, during this quarantine, Lili and Cole had some problems, were distant and ended up apart for a certain period of time, immediately after the end point of the explosion and informing us of all these public actions on social media (I hope you understand), then after a few weeks, they were already confidently moving towards resolution and recovery and that's why:

https://babysprousehart.tumblr.com/post/618026656780648448/hello-i-hope-this-doesnt-come-off-negatively

This was written long before, but still has many valid points and I just want to widen some of them.

Take a sit and follow me word by word.

I shall start my addition of evidence, based on all the guesses and great opinions of others, as well as hints from the Lili and Cole themselves. I would like to start with a significant event and the day when Lili posted a photo from the Antelope Valley on April 28th, well, or 27th, depending on where you are.

Perhaps we lose some missing pieces in this puzzle and forget about something that was done earlier, but I just want to start counting from this moment.

A few facts about this photo/photos:

1) It was posted exactly 3 years later from their famous photoshoot, when very, very, very many people, mostly in media, began to suspect that there is something between them in a romantic way. It was exactly in the same place, exactly with the same style, exactly in a similar image (waving curly hair, light flying dress, black and white effect) and even without a capture. The picture marked the anniversary and is very important for the two of them. An undeniable fact, beat me.

2) That photo was definitely taken by Cole. Why?

Here are a couple more facts in addition to the first:

They have the quality of captured on professional camera.

You can see, that Lili did not tag the photographer and said jokingly that the photo was taken by Milo, why would she lie, or hide that it was anyone else, because clearly she just hid that because it was Cole.

You may have noticed that Austin, when asked who took the photo, whether she took it and whether she is a good photographer, says no and her reaction with a grin and laugh is priceless. She also didn't tag nor the photographer, neither Lili in her photos from there.

You can watch the vlog in the Colleen blog and see there are very similar figures to Cole, Lili and Milo walking along the valley, because, duh, they were there.

You can view her post, where you can see Cole from the back (notice his dark clothing, the same as on one of his post in the profile, which he has already deleted, as well as his position from which the photo of Lili was supposedly taken and it is just in the same place).

You can observe his style of photography and how similar the theme is to the photos from 2017.

You can see the same poppy behind his ear in one of the past stories.

You may have noticed that the photo of Lili is processed with the same effect as several photos in Cole's profile, and I can tell you as an amateur photo editor that it is very identical.

Question: why arrange such a significant photoshoot with your ex after a few weeks of separation? Why is Cole smiling in a photo (black and white one with a mustache and black clothes) probably taken there? Why is everything so secretive if they broke up? Why even post a photo that your ex-boyfriend definitely took? How can you calmly go to this place, which reminds you of your joint travels with your former lover? Therefore, this photo and later another one from there were the first iron arguments in confirming the improvement of things.

 I would like to continue with another ironclad proof.

Lili in early may very fiercely, after a few weeks of Cole's statements about slander and threats, which she did not respond to so clearly at the time, defended Cole and pointed out the private relationship and literally said that people should stop it and even though should hurt and bully her, but not him.

Question: did she defend her ex so publicly? Would Lili talk about a private relationship if that was the way her past relationship was most often? Would she have written anything at all if she didn't care about him and didn't feel something towards him? I don't think so, so it's gibberish to say so (about the break up) when it's the second unquestionable argument.

 Next, we need to talk about the general activity of Cole and Lili in social media. I just want to list some observations, in different order, but it seems like everything we have now:

If earlier it was visible in the posts of Lili that it was clearly a show off, then over time and after the published photos, she began to behave more sincerely and tenderly, began to publish Milo less, began to say that there was only the two of them less, has stopped showing how good she is without certain someone, as if for Cole showing that she could cope without him, which was visible in the posts and stories, she began to talk more about improving her mental health as a result of training, spoke about how later she was feeling better and that she was grateful for those who were with her and difficult times and in light moments, that you just need to live and enjoy.

Additionally, I can say how she shone with each photo, and it was a natural glow of happiness and settling down. She no longer sang sad songs or posted sad songs, on the contrary, posted sexy, funny and relaxed ones. She appeared more in photos taken by paparazzi. She posted sexy, energetic, romantic movies, funny cartoons, watched funny clips, was excited about her project, laughed, danced with her dog, played with a dog with macaroni, cosplayed Willy Wonka (we all have a feeling it’s Cole’s thing, no?), playing with sand, puzzles, posted funny memes in story, which unfortunately coolly accepted as the opposite, posted a poem with a typo and funny answered to a fan who corrected it, told more about poems and attached a photo with a fragment of a poem about love from her upcoming book. She liked some photos from the anniversary of the last episode of the series, where we remember there was a hot scene of her and Cole's character, she liked a Bughead drawing. Yesterday, she actually posted one of the sexiest videos that will not be posted, being single and lonely, we saw that she actually spent more personal time with Cole (I am not saying they weren’t doing t back then), which was investigated thanks to many amazing people here, and even if they don't live together yet, they are more likely to meet and have met with each other, and more hints on sexy times (because, come one, maybe Milo was the one who left a hickey on her neck, huh?), which is undeniable, just compare the fact that she is no longer in the old rental, and he is not in Kj's house, she then posted a photo from some place, which is very similar to where Cole shot a video with Jimmy Fallon.

 He also began to be more active in social networks, exactly after she started posting photos of the Antelope Valley, he posted a series of photos of the kissing couple, even if it was a gay drawings, they were filled with love, there was a photo of him with cattle with the sarcastic caption, then the photo about porn bots, with funny ask to leave him alone and saying it’s not allowed to be horny on quarantine, again a photo of himself with heart eyes that I talked about above, he posted a very funny video recently. There were more photos from the paparazzi after some time when Lili's usually flashed, and then it stopped, then his humorous photo in the washing machine appeared, which she probably had taken, and why so I explained in the attached post, he posted a photo from the walk, which was also probably taken with her, because again, she had a similar location, then he jokingly called Tommy ‘the’ muse, maybe roasting fans, but he didn’t use ‘my’, so, indicating he still has his own muse, then we saw him at that damn party, which caused people's panic, although he is an ordinary person and has the right to relax, and by the way at this party he was very happy and frisky, but nothing bad or shameful happened and he is innocent, then we even saw Cole, after Lili, delete many of the photos, although he had also unarchived some of them several times, as she had, which means that he did not delete them completely, but just removed many of them, leaving the most tender photo after or before the kiss at the famous moment when Lili wanted a toast and eggs at 1 am, or many photos reflecting her body, which also marks not a bad phenomenon, but a simple trolling from them. Proof of this trolling and unarchiving is on the vastness of other blogs and on Twitter, thanks to that girl's video.

 The way their condition and activity on social networks have changed is very noticeable and is also third undeniable fact of denial of the break up. You can compare photos of Cole taken by Alex, where he is clearly very sad and depressed, because it was taken somewhere in the interval of their real breakup. And compare this with his smiling and playful state during the interview with Jimmy, where he also sparkled with happiness and fun, constantly smiling and seemed to be aroused about something (or someone). I think even a newcomer will notice a change in their mood and attitude. You will see the difference. And this does not happen when going through the break up after 4 years of deeply imbued with love relationships. Please understand, damn it.

 I have listed alas not everything that speaks so vividly about things going in the right positive direction and is evidence that everything is getting better again, there will be only more I assure you and you will kiss my ass, as Cole said.

 Execution cannot be pardoned.

 You have one attempt to put a comma and decide your fate, but I think you’ll  fail because you are a total sucker anyway.

 Bye!

[lousimusician]

Trying To Adjust (Part 2)

Pairing: Frat!Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: Tom deals with the aftermath of your breakup

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: none

——————————————

Ever since the party, Tom had been having a rough time with what had happened.

And he was finding it harder to get along with his friends, now that he realized that most of them, other than Harrison, were assholes.

Tom really liked you, like really liked you.

The two of you had met during one of your projects. The school was holding a film festival and you were going to be directing your own film and since Tom was an acting major, he turned up at the audition.

You absolutely loved his performance and immediately said yes.

And naturally, since you and Tom would be working so closely, he flirted with you for a bit, and you flirted back, but once he asked you out, you turned him down.

It had been a huge hit to his ego, and from there he had been pretty determined to take you out. But after you had first turned him down, all of his following advancements were ignored.

After a month he had given up. And he was glad he did because once he started focusing more on the film and work, he had realized just how passionate you were about film.

And he admired it greatly.

He loved how determined you were about directing and writing, that after a certain day of shooting he looked up all of your past projects he found on your YouTube channel and watched them all. And not only that he ended up practically stalking you on every social media website you had.

And from there he was completely head over heels for you.

It was something he had never felt before. He had no desire to be in a serious relationship until you came along.

He stopped sleeping with girls because he honestly didn’t care about them anymore and he went back to trying to ask you out, but in a more easygoing way as to not come off strong anymore.

And at the end of the month, you agreed to go out with him.

If only Tom hadn’t been so clueless to the concept of dating, then you wouldn’t have broken up in the messy way you had.

And now with every passing day, Tom was missing you more and more.

The only problem was that he had no idea how to talk to you again after what happened.

Which is why complaining to Harrison all day and night was what he resorted to—

“Do you think she misses me?” Tom asked, staring up at the ceiling.

”Nope.” Harrison said, popping the ‘p’.

At this point Harrison had just started saying anything he wanted to since Tom was refusing to listen anyway. But as long as he could finish this damn paper by tonight, he didn’t really care too much about Tom’s woes.

”You know I blew her off 8 times? I even stood her up on two of those occasions.” He sighed.

”Uh-huh— you were an awful boyfriend,” he said typing away.

”God, what’s wrong with me,” he said, sitting up and looking to Harrison.

He looked up from his laptop, “What? Like you want a list or something?”

”C’mon Haz! I’m serious!”

Harrison rolled his eyes, “You were too consumed with what everyone thought of you. That, and you never had the attention span to focus on one girl for long periods of time anyway.” He said, going back to typing.

Tom fell back onto his bed, exasperated. “She probably hates me.”

And we were back to not taking Harrison’s actual criticisms.

”Not probably— she most definitely hates you.”

”I wonder how she’s doing.”

”Probably a lot better since the breakup.”

”What should I do?”

”Nothing, suck it up and fuck her roommate.”

”How could I have messed up so bad— my first ever relationship!”

”Because you self-sabotage and you’re destined to be alone forever.”

”Ugh, what am I gonna do?”

”Already told you, move on and fuck her roommate.”

”What?”

Harrison looked over his laptop and at Tom who was staring back at him, “What, finally decided to listen to me?”

”I’m serious!”

”Fine. You know what you should do? You should go find her, apologize and beg on your knees for her to take you back. Promise her you’ll be a better boyfriend and follow through on that promise. That is what you should do.”

”I can’t, it’ll never work,” he groaned.

Harrison sighed and shook his head, turning back to his paper.

————

“So Victoria told me she was interested in being apart of your next film,” Elizabeth told you, as she sat watching something on her laptop on top of her bed.

”Really? That’s awesome, she’s a business major right?” You asked, in the middle of some writing homework.

”Yeah, said she has a passion for acting, but her parents forced her to go the business route.

You hummed, “Well tell her I’m holding auditions next week.”

She nodded, “Of course.”

The two of you groaned upon hearing someone knock at the door, “Not it.” You quickly said, making Elizabeth have to go up and answer it.

”Whatever,” she grumbled, hopping off the bed and going to answer the door.

She swung it open to see Harrison standing in front of her, but you couldn’t see who it was, “Yes?” She asked.

”(Y/N) here?”

She promptly turned to you, “It’s for you,” she said before going back to her bed.

You sighed, throwing your laptop to the side and climbing off the bed, “Yea- oh hi Harrison,” you greeted upon seeing him, “How’d you get up here?”

He shook his head, “Got a friend to sign me in- look-“

”Is this about next week’s auditions?” You asked, cutting him off. Harrison was a usual in the audition room, and he had made it into a couple of your projects, “Because everything is posted in Webson Hall-“

”No, this is about Tom,” he rushed out, over you.

”Tom?” You pouted, “Then I’m not interested, see ya,” you were about to close the door when Harrison stopped it, “Whaaaat?” You groaned.

“The two of you need to talk, he’s been nothing but whining and complaining for the last week and I’m starting to lose patience with him.”

You rolled your eyes, “Why? I thought and I quote ‘I was overbearing and bitchy’.”

He scoffed, “He was obviously talking out of his ass. He’s crazy about you.”

”Not crazy enough apparently.”

”(Y/N) I’m serious. Just talk to him, you’ll see how much he misses you.”

”And if I don’t?” You quirked an eyebrow.

”Then I’ll,” he paused, “I’ll um-“

You laughed, “You’ve got nothing. See you at auditions,” you waved, before shutting the door on him.

Harrison sighed and leaned his head against your door.

And then suddenly and idea struck him.

”That’s it.”

With that, he was running down the hall back to his frat house.

~~~~~~~

You stretched in your seat. Audition day had finally showed up.

Honestly you were never a huge fan of watching a million auditions every time (your work had been getting more and more popular around campus, so auditions tended to be a pretty big turn out). A lot of the time they were mentally exhausting, you’d be surprised by the amount of actors that chose dramatic monologues over comedic.

But now you were already 15 auditions in with 5 more to go, and you were pretty sure you already had your cast now but you still needed to see the others.

“Alright, send them in!” Alyssa shouted, to Eric who had been letting in the actors.

Alyssa and Eric were always crew members on your projects and usually helped you decide cast members.

You had been scribbling something down when the next actor stood by the chair that was provided for each audition in front of you two.

”Go ahead,” Alyssa said, and you finally looked up.

Your eyes widened.

What the fuck?

“Tom, what the hell are you doing here?” You asked in annoyance, shaking your head.

He stared at you like a deer in the headlights, “Um... auditioning?”

”Did Harrison put you up to this?”

”...Maybe?”

You rolled your eyes again, “Whatever, you can leave.”

”No,” he stated more firmly, “I want to audition.”

You looked over at Alyssa who just shrugged her shoulders.

”Fine,” you said with a wave of your hand, “Go ahead.”

He cleared his voice, “My name is Tom Holland and I will be performing a monologue that I wrote. I will be reading for the character uh- Tim who is apologizing to his ex-girlfriend for something stupid he did.”

”Oh my god,” you hissed, sinking into your seat, already cringing.

He cleared his throat again, “Okay look, you know I’m bad with words so I’m just gonna come out and say it. I fucked up... but you already know that. For years I’ve been living in this bubble where I had my own views on dating and now I realize how warped they really are. I don’t know how to be a good boyfriend— and there’s a really good chance I’ll have trouble figuring it out, but.... what I do know, is that if you decide to take me back I will try my fucking hardest to be the best goddamn boyfriend you will ever have, even if that means I have to drop my asshole friends— who really were never that great so I don’t know why I ever chose them over you. But I like you so fucking much and that’s something that has never ever happened for me, so it kills me every single day knowing I screwed up a relationship with the only girl I ever really liked. You are one of the most talented and passionate people I have ever met, and I think you are absolutely gorgeous inside and out. So it would mean the world to me if you even as much as considered taking me back, and if you do, I promise I will do everything I can to make you happy. And if it means anything, I wasn’t lying when I said I never cheated on you and even after we broke up I couldn’t even think about another girl, also...... I don’t think you’re overbearing or bitchy.”

Silence filled the room before you spoke, “Y’know, with these auditions you’re usually expected to act.”

”Yeah I was wondering if you were gonna catch that,” he tried to joke, but kept bouncing on the balls of his feet, showing how nervous he was.

You ran a hand through your hair and sighed.

You figured if he was this willing to do something as silly as this, that maybe he really was willing to change.

You placed your clipboard aside and stood up. You walked over to him until you stood right in front of him.

”You gonna start answering my texts?”

His eyes immediately lit up, “Yes! Yes, of course.”

”You really gonna stop hanging out with those jerks? Except for Harrison, he’s the only one I like.”

”Yeah, he’s honestly the only one I like too.”

You nodded, “Then, can we go to that movie we planned a couple weeks ago?”

He grinned so big, you were sure it probably hurt, but you weren’t able to fight the smile off your face either.

Tom suddenly pulled you into him, wrapping his arms around you, “Of course darling, anything for you.”

You hugged him back tightly, “Good. Then stay here for the rest of the auditions.”

”Alright,” he agreed, pulling back. “By the way... did you really sleep with Aaron?”

You shook your head, “Nah, I paid him to hide in his room for a half hour to make everyone think I did.”

“Sneaky,” He laughed, shaking his head at you, “But thank god, because from here on out, you’re mine.”

——————————————

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[vincent-g-writer]

The Silver Screen Savant, pt 2- the Meh, the Bad and The yikes.

Hello Writers!

Last time here on Starry Starry Write, I talked a little about Autism in the media and my personal experiences therein. Today, I’d like to go a little broader, and tackle the topic from a macro perspective.

In recent times, you’ve probably heard “Representation Matters” oft repeated. Especially in prominent talking spaces like social media. But what does that mean, exactly?

Why “Representation Matters,” and how.

The short answer:

Diverse representation in media tells us that everyone has a place in the world. That everyone’s story matters.

The long answer:

It’s no secret that we begin engaging with media at a young age. When I was growing up in the 90’s and 00’s, TV and video games were often the babysitters of my peers. I was one of the few kids in my neighborhood whose parents weren’t divorced. The kids I knew? Not so much. Most of them were raised by single parents, grandparents and of course-the boob tube. I personally prefered books, when my mom wasn’t yelling “it’s too nice out to be holed up in that dark bedroom!”

Now, don’t mistake my preference for some kind of intellectual superiority. I watched plenty of TV too. Besides, books aren’t magically out of the equation. Printed material is our oldest form of media. And- often just as problematic. Though I will say- I saw a much broader range of people on covers adoring library shelves than I ever did titles on a TV roster. But, I digress. The point is: for many of us, consuming media begins at an early time of our life. And that’s where the problem starts. Even in my childhood, where The Magic School Bus, Hey Arnold, and Sesame Street showed people of all kinds, I can point to many that did not. Especially not people like me. Which did me a grave disservice. I didn’t know I was on the spectrum for a long time, and when I finally found out, I was horrified, thanks to what I had seen on TV.

Because media is not only a wonderful way to learn about people that don’t look, act or sound like us. It also informs our ideas of who we are, and what we can be. Whether we like it or not: it shapes how we understand the world. And it doesn’t stop with Childhood.

Time Changes Much, but not all.

Things are better now. Well, a little bit, anyway.

As an adult, I see more people like me on the screen nowadays. Which is nice.

Ish.

Why “ish?” Well…

Frequently, these “noticeably different” characters (read: Autistically coded) are branded “NOT AUTISTIC!” You heard it here first, folks! That one character (insert your favorite) is Totally Not Autistic. Despite being written in a way that gives every indication otherwise.

*Facepalm*

Now for some examples, which we’ll call the “Meh,” “The Bad” and the “Yikes.” For “fun,” we’ll also go into the off-air perceptions of the characters.

The “Meh.”

First on the list is Dr. Spencer Reid, from CBS’s “Criminal Minds.”

Dr. Reid is the youngest member of the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit, having joined at the age of 22. He holds three B.A degrees in Sociology, Psychology and Philosophy, as well as three Ph.D’s in Engineering, Chemistry, and Mathematics.

He also has the social skills of a limp dishrag. Wait, what’s that? High Intelligence + Low Social Awareness? Hmmm…Then there’s his restrictive behavioral patterns, obsessive interests, and general “quirkiness!” that we could talk about. But let’s hear a quote from the actor who plays him, Matthew Gray Gubler:

“..an eccentric genius, with hints of schizophrenia and minor autism, Asperger’s Syndrome. Reid is 24, 25 years old with three PH.D.s and one can’t usually achieve that without some form of autism.”

Hoooo-boy. I could go into all the things wrong with this, including why the term “Asperger’s” is both horrific (TW: Eugenics,Ableism, N*zis) and harmful. However, today we’ll simply leave it with the fact that this term is no longer applicable, having been reclassified in 2013 as part of Autism Spectrum disorder.

The “Bad.”

Next up, we have Will Graham, from NBC’s Hannibal.

Like our first example, Will works for the FBI. He’s a gifted criminal profiler with “special” abilities, namely hyper empathy, which allows him to reconstruct the actions and fantasies of the killers he hunts. He’s intellectually gifted, hates eye contact, socializing, and prefers to spend…most of his time…alone.

Oh dear. Haven’t we been here before? But, I mean, he doesn’t have Autism! The show runner says so!

For Will Graham, there’s a line in the pilot about him being on the spectrum of autism or Asperger’s, and he’s neither of those things. He actually has an empathy disorder where he feels way too much and that’s relatable in some way. There’s something about people who connect more to animals than they do to other people because it’s too intense for whatever reason.

You can’t see me right now, but I’m cringing. A lot. This is just…ugh. I mean, for starters, I know a handful of autistic people who struggle with hyper empathy, which can make social situations overwhelming and hard to navigate. In fact, I happen to be one of them. Plus, there’s a cool little thing about how, frequently, people on the spectrum more readily identify with animals. But, y’know. Who am I to say? I’m just someone, one of many, who’s dealt with this my whole life.

Now, onto the “Yikes.”

*sigh*

And finally, we have BBC’s Sherlock, a modern adaptation of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s renowned “consulting” detective, and probably the most famous fictional character of all time.

Now, I’ll start by saying that the BBC incarnation is not the first to be Spectrum labeled. In fact, Sherlock was my childhood hero, and the first “person” I saw referred to this way. My aunt, an avid reader herself, casually remarked to a friend “I’ve always wondered if Holmes is Autistic,” after I came yammering on about how fantastic the books were. Had I not been champing at the bit to get back to my reading, I might have asked her what that meant.

I also believe this fandom driven speculation is why many detective type characters (see above) are often coded as Autistic, intentionally or otherwise.

In this New York Times article, Lisa Sanders, M.D. describes Holmes traits:

He appears oblivious to the rhythms and courtesies of normal social intercourse — he doesn’t converse so much as lecture. His interests and knowledge are deep but narrow. He is strangely “coldblooded,” and perhaps as a consequence, he is also alone in the world.

Now, before we go any father, let me take a moment to defend his creator. During the time Sir Arthur Conan Doyle first created his most famous work, Autism was not known. That isn’t to say it didn’t exist. We’ve always existed. In fact, it’s now believed that the Changeling Myth, a common European folk story, was a way to explain Autism. In one telling (there are a few) children displaying “intelligence beyond their years” and “uncanny knowledge” were imposters, traded out by Fae creatures for offspring of their own. Children believed to be “Changlings,” regretfully, often came to a bad end. A chilling reminder that the stories we tell impact our real lives.

So while Autism was at least somewhat recognized, it did not become its own official diagnosis until 1943.

Meanwhile, Sherlock Holmes was first published in 1892. Now, as a writer who often draws from my personal reality, I imagine Doyle probably “wrote what he knew,” which is to say, acquainted with one or more Autistic people, he used them as inspiration.

On the other hand…

BBC’s Sherlock first aired in 2010. And while one might argue that the writers simply capitalized on the Autistic fan-theory, or took already available traits and exaggerated them for their version… they left a lot to be desired. Autism aside, this new Sherlock is…well…an asshole. Narcissistic, abusive and egocentric (to name a few) he sweeps his caustic behavior under the rug of “high functioning sociopath,” and blytly ignores the consequences.

Which is a major problem. Because while doing this, he’s still “obviously” (at least in the Hollywood sense) Autistic. In my previous post, where I said some characters are “too smart™, and logical© to ever have feelings, friends or empathy,” this is what I meant.

This is bad. We’re looping right back to Representation Matters. Bad representation, and the navigating of such, is just as important for writers to think about as good representation. Maybe even moreso. Because bad representation paints real people into cardboard, stereotyped people-shaped things. It otherizes. And it’s harmful. You would not believe the people I’ve met assume I’m not Autistic because I’m not an egotistical jerk. Why? Because they watched, you guessed it, BBC Sherlock.

Confession time:

Now here’s my little secret:

I love all of these characters. They are some of my favorite on tv. Why? Because for good or ill, I recognize myself in them. Finally, I can turn on the TV, and see myself. Or, somewhat, anyway.

My favorite character out of this list? Loath though I am to admit it… Is Sherlock. See, what those well meaning folks didn’t know (the ones who say I’m I’m “too nice,” to be Autistic) is… well, if we’re being honest, I wasn’t always nice. A few years ago, I was that guy. I was a jerk because I thought I was the smartest person in the room. Which is really not a good look. In fact, sitting down and watching the first season of sherlock, (around three or four years after it came out) made me realize how much of a jerk I actually was.

There are other things there too. Things that tie me to all these characters, that I didn’t list. But that’s for another today.

For now, I’d like to add a caveat or two:

1) I’ve watched all the shows listed above, and adore them. As I mentioned, Sherlock is my favorite. He’s also the one I’ve watched the most (Repeatedly, in fact. Whoops.) and I recognize it’s not all bad. In the end, he learned to treat people better (somewhat) and certainly became more human over time. And, there are other deeply problematic elements of the show I’d like to tackle, eventually.

*cough* Queerbating! *cough*

2) I’m well aware that the above cases are all thin, white, able bodied, “straight” males. But I chose these characters for a couple of reasons. One, they’re the most prominent type on TV. Again, we loop back around to representation, and why we need more positive, diverse examples of it.

And finally-

3) In my last post, I mentioned I’d give some “good” instances of Hollywood Autism trope. But I didn’t exactly do that. Partially, because half way through, I thought…perhaps…I’m not the best to judge what might be a good Autistic character. I mean, I’m sure someone will read this and think my current aforementioned characters are fine. Heck! They might even argue my perception here, and say the characters are just fine. I accept that. In my life, both on and off the page, I recognize that I cannot, should not (and don’t want to) speak for an entire community.

Because of this, I cannot tell you how to write a “good” Autistic character, or what media is “acceptable.” I can’t even really tell you what a bad character is. Sure, I have a lot of opinions about it. But- if you’re on the spectrum and like and identify with the above? That’s fine. I mean, even with all the problems I noted (and some I didn’t) I certainly do.

On the other hand, if you’re a writer, and you want to write a character from this (or any, for that matter) community you aren’t part of, I caution you.

Do your research. Preferably from multiple credible sources.

Talk to people on the spectrum about what it’s really like. (Though try to steer clear of asking for emotional labor.You could, say, hop on reddit and ask the community there, for instance, which is a no pressure way to obtain potentially decent info.)

Finally, whatever you do, remember this-

Autistic people can look like anyone. We can act, and think and be different, like anyone. We are real, living, breathing people. Not robots, not sob stories, not tropes. People. So if you write about us, write us like people. And your work will be all the better for it.

-Your Loving Vincent

[paradiselostbythedashboardlight]

Quarantine, or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Wrote 430,943 Words of Prose in a Year

As we are coming up terrifyingly fast on a full year of quarantine with no end to the pandemic yet in sight for most people, I’ve been taking some time to reflect on the last year of my existence in a state that most people now refer to as quarantine. Since March of 2020, I, like most other sane people in my country, have stopped traveling, going to stores, seeing all but a limited group of other humans, and begun having recurring nightmares about being in crowds without a piece of cloth over my nose and mouth.

Suffice to say, it has been a bit stressful.

The other thing that I have done since COVID-19 began rapidly spreading across the globe last year is write over 430,943 words of fiction. 

The number seems insane to me still. That is (approximately) one Gone With The Wind, one entire Lord of the Rings series, or the first four Harry Potter books. That is still sadly not yet War and Peace (but who knows… the pandemic isn’t over yet).

So now that I am looking back, I find myself with one question: how did this happen? Why did I do this? What does this mean about my life this year?

Since apparently I answer best by writing a lot, let’s begin at the beginning. Let me tell you a story. I’ll keep it short, I swear.

Part 1: Blast From the Past

In March of 2020, I was still in the midst of an academic semester. There was a long academic document to write and a class to teach. However, as quarantine abruptly robbed me of most of my usual commitments, I was suddenly thrust into the position of having more time on my hands than I knew what to do with. Consequently, I decided to break out the Nintendo Switch I’d gotten for Christmas and revive a childhood interest in video games.

And boy did I. I played the games I owned for all they were worth. I played them during the evenings when I had no social engagements to attend. I played them during the Zoom meetings I was already struggling to pay attention to. By the end of March, I had finished one game, and it had set the wheels turning in my brain.

Here’s a fact about me: I don’t usually tend to write or read a lot of fanfiction about things that I consider really really good. Basically, fanfiction for me has always been an impulse born from incompletion or imperfection. I see no need to add to a perfect story (although I happily consume and create fanart). But for something enjoyable and yet slightly unsatisfying? That’s fanfic territory, bud.

So by April, I had developed a sort of epic fanfiction for this video game I was playing. It was one of those magnum opus kind of ideas, a grand retelling of the story with a huge sprawling plot and Themes (™). 

At first, it was merely a thought experiment that lived only in my head, a sort of entertainment to ponder in the hours before falling asleep. What changed? Well, a friend of mine decided to also write a fanfiction on the same video game and she kindly consented to let me read it.

Suddenly, I was ravenously hungry to read and to write and to share and to consume. I wrote a hundred thousand words of this fanfic in April and into early May, sending each chapter to my friend and being spurred onward by her kind comments. 

The fic became a gargantuan endeavor full of strange little challenges I set for myself. It was a canon-divergence, requiring plotting, worldbuilding, a darker and grimer tone. For some reason, I decided to write each chapter from a different character’s perspective, making the final product into a series of essentially short story character studies which together formed a plot.

By the end of May, the story was published for the world to see. It was well-received, although not particularly popular by fandom standards. And that was the end. I had gotten out my pandemic crazies, the semester was over and now I could move on. I had made my peace with the source material, plumbing all of the little details that I wanted to examine and creating a narrative that I found satisfying.

It was over.

Part 2: Summer Lovin?

Except that it wasn’t.

Confession: as I had been posting my giant fanfiction, I had also begun to explore the fan community itself, mostly curious to see some nice art and gather a bit of demographic info about what was popular within the community. As a result, I found a fanfic recommendations page. Among the recommendations was one author who kept popping up and i finally decided to give the fic a read.

Woah. It was good. Like, really good. Like, professional quality writing and themes that seemed designed to appeal to me. I devoured everything that the creator had posted in a week and then subscribed to eagerly wait for more.

As June rolled around, I realized that I had a problem on my hands. My great big gen masterpiece was finished, but this author had gotten me hooked on something else, something with a nefarious reputation online: shipping.

The term du jour for this seems to be “brain worms” so let’s just say that reading other fanworks had given me some brain worms. Inspired this time not just by the source material of the game, but now the fan community itself, my mind began to develop another idea.

I wrote the fic, about 11k, in a single afternoon of frantic writing. When I finished it, I knew it was one of my strongest pieces. It had just come together, a combination of all the thought that I’d been brewing up and a stylistic execution that just worked with the story I wanted to tell.

I posted it on a new account. Shipping seemed vaguely shameful to me still and my mom reads the other account.

To my surprise, the fic blew up. It got so much more attention than my long fic ever had. Even more significantly, a fan artist actually drew a gorgeous comic of the pivotal scene, completely out of the blue! I was essentially thunderstruck. Honestly, it was probably the first time in my life that I’d ever received so much positive reinforcement from a piece of writing.

While I’d written short stories for undergrad workshops, they’d never been particularly good and I’d never gotten particularly great feedback on them. I’d applied and been rejected by more MFAs and literary magazines than I could count. I’d pretty much resigned myself to writing for an audience of me and me alone (which I don’t mean to sound tragic about, writing for you is great and fun!)

But receiving so much support and praise and feeling like I’d made other people happy or sad or moved? There’s nothing better.

This makes my decision to write another fic for the ship sound vaguely cynical, the action of a person driven by an addiction to praise. I mean, no lie, aren’t we all a little addicted to approval?

But my next fic was another long one, an 80k passion project modern AU that I dreamed up while spending a slow summer alone with my books and only able to leave the house for long rambling walks in the woods. The premise was essentially about characters attending a five year college reunion, something that I myself had missed due to COVID in May of the same year. The fic quickly became a way for me to process thoughts on a lot of topics in my life ranging from relationships to politics to mental health to classical literature.

This fic was also received with far more attention than I was used to and, as a result, I finally joined the notorious Twitter dot com where I found people talking about my fic unprompted, eager to follow me and like my every random thought.

I can’t say that this process was not without its ups and downs. Fandom has changed, in many ways for the better, since my last engagement with it during the 2013 Supernatural days on Tumblr. While fan friendships are often idealized or demonized, they are pretty much like any other human friendship (okay, maybe a little bit more horny on main). There is potential for amazing connection as well as pettiness. But in a year where many people suddenly had no social spaces that were safe anymore, I’m glad that I found a new line of communication with the world.  

So I kept writing fics for the ship, producing a lot of work that I am genuinely proud of and making connections with other people who enjoyed it enough to leave a comment.

To conclude this section, I was in fandom again. While I had not seriously engaged with a fan community since around 2014, I was back with a vengeance. And I had discovered an important truth about what unlocked my ability to write more than I ever had before: community support.

Not simply the kudos and the views. It was the comments. The discourse. The discussion. To add and contribute my thoughts and ideas to a greater network of thoughts and ideas that fed off of one another.

Often I had seen people complain about there not being enough fanworks for particular media or characters. Now I knew the secret. The comments and the community created the works. If I commented on other people’s fics, the more likely they were to write more. I made a resolution I have tried to keep, to comment on any story that I legitimately enjoyed reading, even if I had no particularly intelligent thing to say about it.

Part 3: A Novel Idea

By late October, I had produced a considering oeuvre for my ship of choice and was enjoying slowing my pace as I planned a few future projects.

Remember, though, how I mentioned not having engaged with fandom for the past 5 years? Well, that didn’t mean I hadn’t been writing.

For the past 4 years, I have won NaNoWriMo and completed 4 novels of over 100k each in length. These projects have been massively fun and improved my confidence with executing stories at the scope that I desire.

And so in November 2020, I settled down to write another novel. November is always a sort of terrible time write a novel if you work in academia, but this year, I had more time than usual. I set out to write a comedy fantasy novel, something mostly lighthearted and full of hijinks in order to pretend away some of the quarantine blues (which by this point were well established in my psyche).

This year in particular, I was reminded that writing a novel is… harder than fanfic. That seems like a very obvious point, but I’d written novels before. Suddenly, though, I was realizing how much a novel requires you to set up the world and the characters, while fanfic can be pretty much all payoff all the time.

While the fanfic flowed in wild creative bursts of energy, the novel required diligence of another sort. I wrote 2,000 words every day for two months. It was a grind. Sometimes, it was a slog. 

And sometimes it just wasn't good. The thing about writing your own novels is that the first draft is way more likely to be not good. You’re balancing a lot and it’s easy to let a few balls that you have in the air drop for a chapter or two, with no recourse but to go back and edit later.

I finished the novel by writing a final speedrun of 6k on new years eve, ending my 2020 with another project under my belt. No one has read it. Not even I have reread it.

I’m still glad that I wrote it. I’ll write another one next year. No one will read that one either.

Sometimes, we write for ourselves and no external validation is necessary.

Part 4: Where are they now?

January of 2021 is somehow now behind me, which is terrifying. I’m still writing. Mostly fanfic, although occasionally I go doodle around with some original ideas that are more conceptual sketches for the next novel.

As for the fanfic, I think I still have a few more good ideas left in me, but  I will probably leave it behind before the year is out. That feels a little bittersweet, a sort of temporary burst of fun and friendship that I wonder if I’ll ever experience again.

Coming to the end of this reflection, I suppose I should make a summative statement about what it all means.

In the end, it might not mean a lot. There are some small takeaways. 

It turns out that encouragement makes you write more! Who knew? Also, more free time makes you write more! Wow!!!!

The point that I think this reflection exercise has shown me, the point that I think matters more than any other, is that writing is a way to process my thoughts. Even if it is through the lens of ridiculous video game fanfic or novels about sad wizards, my writing is my way to make sense of my own mind. 

And sharing that is special. If you share it with online strangers, with your family on Christmas Eve, with your close friend who has become even closer and dearer to you since she let you read her work, or just with your mom (the one personal legally required to read your damn novel if you want to share it). To share writing is to give someone a little peek at your beliefs about the world.

And right now? When we’re still isolated and bored and scared and in desperate need of distraction? Binge some TV, play Nintendo, read a book. Take in other people’s thoughts.

But put down your own somewhere as well. It’s a conversation.

And for once, it’s a conversation that doesn’t have to take place on fucking Zoom.

[angsty-nerd]

RNM 2X13 - Echo Download

I've been having a hard time trying to put my feelings about the Season 2 finale into words, so I've been sitting on it for a few days, reading everyone's metas, and trying to organize and separate my actual thinky thoughts from the angst and heartache. That… is not something I am particularly good at. But I'm trying.

I LOVE this show. The writing is a mess. There's plot holes all over the place. The pacing issues alone make me want to tear my hair out. And dear God do I want them to give these characters and relationships (including friendships) the time and space for the big moments to land properly. I don't know if we'll ever get any of that though. And in the meantime, I love these characters and the story, messes and all.

Everyone knows my biggest love is Echo, so I'm gonna start there.

"I don't know what you thought love was gonna be like when we were 17, but it's not all sunsets and horseback rides."

Back in the OG days, there was one consistent criticism I had with the way they wrote Max and Liz's story: the breakups always felt like bullshit. Max breaks up with Liz because she was afraid of some weird alien shit. Liz breaks up with Max because he's "supposed to be with Tess" and meanwhile he's like, "um… no?" We had "it's too dangerous" when it was dangerous regardless. "We're just different" but not in ways that actually mattered.

Echo's breakup mattered. There were issues and they were not dealing with them. Both of them were sneaking around behind the other's back. Neither was being fully honest with the other.

The unwavering honesty was something that stood out to me in S1. Yes, Max was hiding the truth about Rosa's death. But when it came to the present they were almost laughably open with each other. Liz didn't lie about it when Max asked if she told Kyle the truth. When Max asked what she was doing in the lab, she told him the truth. Once Liz knew the truth about Rosa, she knew everything. It seemed like with that truth out there was nothing left to hide. And once they got together they were a team. Immediately. There's a reason that we had a joking headcanon in the Echo world that they had their first kiss and then they were a married couple.

I really think Max's death not only put that to a screeching halt...it also put them on this path to the breakup. Liz has abandonment issues, and Max made a choice, without her, that resulted in him leaving her alone. It wasn't openly discussed in the depth that it should have been this season, but I really do think it was issue #1. Liz loves Max and she was very happy being with him...but after he came back from the dead she didn't trust him to not leave her again. It was an issue simmering under the surface from Episode 7 until the finale. Liz channeled it all into worrying about his heart, but the underlying theme was a resounding "I can't go through that again". Which is deeper than just the worry over a physical health problem. And it pushed Max away from her.

He grew irritable with her. He started hiding things from her and lying to her. The season just ended and I have no idea if he ever told her anything about his memory flashes! He was obsessively trying to learn about his past and never once discussed it with Liz!?? Because he didn't want her to stop him from using the serum? This is a HUGELY personal thing to Max and you can see how much it means to him. He had tears in his eyes while telling Isobel about it. I mean, that puppy dog excitement, and yet, he hides it all whenever Liz is around.

I think it was around episode 8 that we started talking about how badly they needed to have a big fight. Us -- the Echo shippers -- the ones who WANT them to be together -- were BEGGING them to fight. I hate conflict!! But the lack of honestly and the aversions were just building and building and I just wanted it all out on the table.

They finally STARTED having that fight in episode 11, but then Rosa and Isobel interrupted. In retrospect, sweet alien!Jesus, I wish they could have finished then. Maybe they would have gotten the air clear between them. Maybe it would have put them on a path to healing their relationship before the finale. But they didn't, so the breakup happened. And the thing is… that ending. It just kind of haunts me. Liz waiting and hoping for a grand gesture that never comes. I mean, did Max even know WHEN she was leaving!?! He sure didn't seem to have it on his mind when they flashed to him in that scene. And their fight...was all about what Liz was doing and Max not taking care of his heart. They never once touched on what he was trying to learn about his past. I'm pretty certain that Liz left without knowing any of that.

And the thing is… I'm sort of skirting around the meat of the issue here. Because the biggest problem of all of this was Liz violating Max by studying his biology without consent.

I really hate saying that in writing, because, to me, it's kind of the most horrible part of all of this.

Max Evans has been referred to in jest in this fandom as the King of Consent. He was so careful with Liz, tiptoeing around her looking for explicit consent in Season 1 until her desire for him was made abundantly clear. He only ignored the need for consent twice: both times in the S1 finale. Healing Michael's hand and healing Rosa. But those things both happened after he killed Noah. After he was high on his own power. They were very clearly set up as out of character for him.

Liz didn't give him the same respect. Consent does not just apply to sexual situations and healing. It applies to studying too. It applies to Liz USING Max's biology without his permission. It also applies to administering the cure to Steph without her consent. Liz was very, very wrong here.

And the thing is… it sure didn't seem like the writers saw it that way. It also didn't seem like JEANINE saw it that way. There's been a little bit more balanced quotes from them in interviews this week since the finale ended as far as saying that both Max and Liz were wrong, but they sure focused on Liz being incredible and strong before the finale aired.

The part that confuses me though...like, a LOT, is that the narrative was pretty clear that what Liz was doing was Bad and Wrong. She looked guilty. She was lying and hiding things from Max. And the MORAL COMPASS OF THE SHOW, Mr. Kyle Valenti, repeatedly told her she was wrong. Kyle called her out on her ethical violations even as he was thanking her for saving Steph.

Genoryx was set up as being bad. Liz herself refused to go work for them in the flashbacks because they were morally sketchy. Although, maybe that's the draw now that she is all full of ethical violations. Sigh.

I'm gonna leave this topic now, but I'll encourage you to go read @latessitrice's meta on the subject here:

Okay...so to sum this up? The breakup was coming. We knew it was coming. But it still hurt my heart so much. I haven't seen anyone gif Jeanine's performance of the "I am in love with you. And I hate that right now." But the delivery of that line broke me.

That being said...do I see it being over? Let's give that a resounding FUCK, NO. I mean, sure, they fought. And it hurt. And Liz ran away. Without saying goodbye. And all of that SHATTERED ME.

But...they still love each other even if they both have a lot to work on individually. That’s part of what MADE it so hard.

I am actually stoked for season 3. Two Maxes? All of the delicious angst once Liz gets home. Liz not knowing there's two Maxes and meeting Jones first and not knowing who he is and being vulnerable to his mindfuckery? Or just his fuckery in general. Whatever. I am here for it.

I am here for Liz discovering that something about Genoryx is Not Right. I'm here for her living a normal life and getting drawn back into the madness. I'm here for Max getting more powerful and more alieny under Jones's guidance. And I am here for what I am certain will be an epic reunion once they are back together again.

As a last more positive comment...I’m stoked that we get to have both Max and Liz alive and facing interesting potential storylines this hiatus. All I wanted from this finale, in truth, was to leave the characters in a place that inspired me to want to write for them for the next year plus or however long this COVID-extended hiatus ends up being. And I am so excited for that.

And I have talked enough now that I will go ahead and post this and leave this post as my Echo Takeaways from the finale. I'll be back again with some more gen/bigger picture thoughts later.

[anerdinallherglory]

Approaching Sun (26)

Author’s Note: Happy New Years! I realize that it has been a LONG time since I have updated this story. The school year has been an absolute killer. Not to mention that I am also working on my master’s degree and taking a ton of classes this summer.

In regards to this chapter, I ended up running out of time and decided to cut it in half due to the coherency of the story and the length. I wanted to give Satou and Isao a bit of a wrap up that does the story justice. However, the good news is that the second half will take less time to be posted. I will definitely be trying to work on this story because I have a LOT planned for it and it’s only just getting to the good parts (one coming up next chapter.) For my patient readers, this will be good news to you. For those who aren’t patient, hoping you’ll stick around to read J

Also, next to Naruto, reading and writing are my passions and my New Year’s resolution is to encourage more people to read. I created an Instagram account called read_with_rich where I will be posting about high-interest books in order to encourage non-readers to read by using the social media platform that can introduce people to books without them going to libraries or book stores (which they won’t if they don’t already read.) Give me a follow if you are interested!

Pairing: SasuSaku

Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25

Chapter 26: Monsters

There was a sharp mix of pungent smells permeating the air around them as Sasuke looked over Sakura’s shoulder at a particular herbalist book. His friend was sitting at a table in the center of the greenhouse, flipping through the Sunagakure plant log, scratching down a list of all the ingredients she would need to create the military ration pills.

When Sasuke commented on the smell, Sakura replied with “You get used to it.” And then she went into a detailed explanation of why plants even created all sorts of different smells--why many flowers had sweet aromas, but other plants had fouler scents. Sakura elaborated that it all had something to do with procreation. Something about bugs being attracted to them in order to spread pollination. She even went into the genetic purposes of tastes in plants. Sasuke listened with genuine interest at the wide variety of facts that she possessed.

Sasuke turned and leaned against the table as she spoke, tucking in his chin to his chest and closing his eyes. When he was sure she was distracted, Sasuke peeked at her between the lashes of his right eye. He noticed that her brow was furrowed as she searched for the plant she had written down. After a few minutes of this, she began to tap the end of the pen against her bottom lip, a subconscious behavior many people did while thinking. Sasuke couldn’t help but realize that he hadn’t paid much attention to anyone’s small habitual behaviors in the past few years except for in battle scenarios. To watch the cogs spinning in Sakura’s mind, had Sasuke feeling like he had missed out on much in the last several years.

After another few seconds, Sakura explained her concern: “I’m going to have to find a substitute plant for the medicinal aspects of the pills. Sunagakure doesn’t grow Tikasia in abundance here. The amount that I would need would deplete their entire reserve.”

Sasuke considered her word for a few seconds before his eyes narrowed a fraction when the door of the greenhouse opened. A white-coated man with sandy colored hair beamed hugely and raised his hand in greeting as he entered. “There you are, Sakura-san. I’ve been looking for you!”

Sakura broke from her deep concentration and turned from the table as she picked up on the calling. Sasuke raised his eyebrows slightly at the familiar tone the young man used. This must be a staff member from the hospital, a colleague that was working closely with Sakura while she was here. His presumption was confirmed when Sakura returned both the smile and call.

“Sorry Mako! Hope you haven’t been looking for too long.”

Mako?What-- are they on a first name basis or something? Sasuke pondered with a frown of disapproval.Sakura barely knew him, or at least, that’s what Sasuke thought. At least Makohad the decency to add the proper honorific to her name. Not that Sasuke could be the one to lecture on the topic.

The young physician made his way over to them and immediately offered a respectful bow to the both of them. Sasuke was never very good at returning these customs of respect, but after a minute of awkward staring, the Uchiha nodded his acknowledgement in a very uncaring sort of way. After bowing, the medic immediately turned to Sakura and glanced at her work on the table.

“Are you creating another medicine?” Mako asked, crossing his hands behind him in consideration, boldly reading the list she had compiled next to the herbal catalog.

Seeing her co-medic’s interest, Sakura picked it up and handed it to him while simultaneously pushing the book in his direction, an invitation for his opinion.

“You’re just the person I need right now actually.” She explained to Mako how she was creating a batch of military ration pills, a notion at which the male medic’s facial expression turned to one of surprise. Sasuke understood his disbelief; not many people knew how to make such a desired sustenance that tipped the scale in favor of those who consumed it in battle. When bringing up the topic of the ingredients she needed, he raised his thumb and forefinger to his chin, pinching it in contemplation.

Sasuke stiffened slightly when the young man pulled up a seat to sit beside her, pulling the book closer so they could both look at it together. “What about Ashuwa?” he offered, flipping to a plant towards the front of the book. Sasuke peeked over towards the illustration and noticed a shrubby little plant with bright yellow flowers.

“Ashuwa?” Sakura questioned, frowning down at the picture. “That belongs to the nightshade family, doesn’t it?”

“Yes,” he informed, “but it’s not fatal like many of its other relatives. It’s actually quite safe to consume unless the patient has some sort of allergic reaction to it.”

“That’s interesting. I’m not very familiar with it. What are its properties?”

“It’s a little stronger than Tikasia but more acclimated to our desert climate, so we have plenty of it here. Its primary effect is a boost in brain function. However, we have observed an increase in energy and muscle mass along with it. Some ninja even claim that after consuming it, it relieves them of stress.”

“All that?” Sakura pondered, dropping her jaw.

Sasuke raised an inquisitive brow as well. With benefits like that, it was a wonder they didn’t add it to every meal here. There had to be missing information obviously…

Sakura must have been thinking the same thing Sasuke had, because she immediately responded with. “What are the negative effects?”

Mako smiled at her insight. “Just like Tikasia, you crash and suffer chakra depletion as a result. You have to take far less of it than Tikasia. Like I said earlier, many people have severe allergic reactions to the plant which is why we don’t use it often.”

Sasuke couldn’t help but frown at the pair of doctors who discussed plants so casually with one another. Mako had a sort of charisma about him, and Sasuke could tell why Sakura would rely on him while she was here. The young man’s temperament sort of reminded Sasuke of their old schoolteacher, Iruka-sensei. However, Mako’s knowledge was so thorough that he almost reminded Sasuke of Kabuto; Sasuke had witnessed many in-depth medical conversations between Orochimaru and he.

Still leaning against the table, Sasuke closed his eyes, adopting an uninterested guise to go with the frown. Seeing them together, discussing their common interests, reminded Sasuke of something despite his epiphany last night. Watching her familiarity with this person reminded Sasuke that just because he had finally admitted to himself that loved her, didn’t mean that he should do anything about it. Sakura had told him firmly that she would only ever choose him and to not assume that if he left her alone, she would fall in love with someone else. Sasuke truly believed his female teammate about this. But seeing her cheerfully interact with Mako made Sasuke want to believe otherwise. Even though it stung him to think about Sakura loving someone else and another man being a part of her daily life, waking up beside her and hearing a confession from her lips, Sasuke knew it was what she deserved. He could never be that sort of man for her, especially not in the near future.

But now that Sasuke was certain of his feelings, would he be able to only ever be a close friend to her? Would he be able to watch someone else come into her life and become the person Sakura swooned over and built a family with? He would, Sasuke told himself. He hadto. Sasuke had already chosen in his heart to be the Itachi of this time and make the sacrifice for the greater good so that his loved ones like Sakura even had a future. He had to keep reminding himself of this.

Without meaning to, he let a low exhale of self-defeat escape his mouth. Realizing he had done so, Sasuke quickly glanced to his right to make sure no one noticed.  Sakura, who Sasuke now noticed had stopped what she was doing, was now watching him despite the fact that Mako was still flipping through the book and explaining something to her.

His kunoichi teammate locked gazes with him, furrowed her eyebrows, and tilted her head in silent question. Sasuke broke their eye-contact immediately and Sakura returned her attention to Mako. It’s for the best, he thought to her.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Mako lead Sakura across the greenhouse to the white-labeled bushel of Ashu that he had spoken to her about. She measured out the amount she would need and began cutting it carefully with his assistance. Sakura had been surprised at this substitute that Mako had offered with certainty at its effectiveness. She pinched a sizable piece of it and placed it on her tongue and began to chew. With it being a nightshade after all, she wanted to be certain that it wasn’t toxic. Nightshades were highly cultivated by humans and most were safe to consume like Mako said, but since she had never heard of this plant and it was unfamiliar to her, she wanted to double-check Mako’s claim. Besides, he said it could cause allergic reactions.

Just so Mako’s feelings wouldn’t be hurt by her taste-testing, Sakura simply announced, “This actually tastes quite yummy. Much better than the bitter Tikasia.” Then she called out loud enough for Sasuke—who had been casually leaning against the table since their arrival—to hear, “You’re in luck, Sasuke. Maybe these pills won’t taste like ‘mudballs’ this time like Sai famously calls them.”

Sasuke peeked open his right eye at her, clearly not grasping a word of what she was referencing. Mako, on the other hand, laughed at her statement.

“Tikasia israther bitter. Is Sai a friend back home? Your friend really called them ‘mudballs’ to your face?” Mako laughed.

Sakura chuckled to herself a bit, returning her full attention to Mako. “Sai is a sort of special friend. He’s brutally honest; always has been.”

“Sometimes we need friends like that,” Mako said reassuringly, helping her pluck the stems and flowers of the plant and wrapping it up in paper.

Sakura nodded in agreement and instantly recalled many of her friends back home and a sort of homesickness radiated in her chest at the thought of them. She wondered how all of them were doing. She also thought of the hospital and Lady Tsunade in that moment too, and made a mental note to write a letter to check in on them.

She glanced up at Sasuke for the twentieth time that day, and her homesickness disappeared. When he was absent, she was always sick with longing for him. It suddenly surprised Sakura that she had never felt more at home than when she was with this man. She had confessed this to him before, but when he was gone, it felt as if she was alone. Sakura would fall asleep with thoughts of him and miss him just as much the following morning. That feeling had disappeared on her journey and this was the first time the kunoichi had missed someone else since she had picked up her bag and followed Sasuke down the cobbled street that night a few weeks ago.

Mako’s statement returned her to the present moment from her thoughts. “Isao slept well last night. After you left with Gaara, he was distraught and restless after what happened. We ended up giving him your dosage of the sleeping medicine and he didn’t experience any sleep terrors.”

“That’s terrific!” she exclaimed, almost jumping for joy in her excitement. This was exciting news. If they could eliminate the terrors, then Isao would be okay. Maybe he could stop taking the medicine once his body adjusted.

“Satou, his father, however,” Mako began as they made their way back towards the center table towards Sasuke. “Well—he’s a bit hysterical in the hospital. The man definitely needs to be there, but we are not quite sure what to do for him. He’s actually the reason I came looking for you. I figure you might be the only one able to talk to him.”

Sakura nodded as they came to a stop and she set her items down. “I see.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  

Sasuke had been thoroughly pissed when Sakura had announced to him her plans and handed him the bundle of paper-wrapped yellow flowers. “Will you grind these up for me while I quickly check-in on a patient? They should be dry enough on their own. We need to mix this in with the rest of our batch as soon as possible.”

The Uchiha nodded with a “hm” but had half a mind to shove the flowers and grinder toward Mako since he was inclined to be so damn helpful.

Apparently, she was duty-bound to go see some hospital patient with an attitude problem and Sasuke had guessed easily who it was. After seeing the bruises on her chest last night, it was hard not to think about this patient of hers. It settled like a knife between Sasuke’s shoulder blades as he began to pulverize the flowers in the mortar with the stone pestle. He glowered after the two medics as the door to the greenhouse swung to a shut behind them.

Sasuke knew that Sakura was aware of his eagerness to get the pills so he could return to his mission. And because she predicted this, Sasuke knew without a doubt that Sakura had played him. She had given him this little job to keep him occupied for a few minutes because he couldn’t put the task off. But what shedidn’t know was that it certainly wouldn’t take him as long as she hoped. Sasuke removed another heap of flowers from the paper and began to smash them forcefully.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .  

Sakura had managed to come up with a small plan in the few seconds after Mako had informed her about Satou, Isao’s hysterical father, whom Sakura and Gaara had placed under the care of the hospital yesterday. The first and most necessary part of her plan was to keep Sasuke busy and away from her patient. After seeing her teammate’s reaction to the small bruises on her chest last night, she didn’t want the two ninja to have the least bit of interaction.

The second part was to ensure that Isao was kept far, faraway from his father. If the child was showing any progress at all after having distance from him, then Sakura would be damned if Satou meant to screw that up. Trailing closely behind her, Mako confirmed her hope that Isao remained at the mental health children’s clinic and was being strictly supervised.

Finally, the last rocky bit of her plan was to try her best to remain calm and civil with Satou despite what she predicted his treatment of her would be. Sakura anticipated every bit of an angry temper and possibly aggression.

Having Mako with her made Sakura feel more reassured. In the back of Sakura’s mind, she knew she didn’t have anything to worry about because she could rely on her abilities as a ninja, not his, but it was still a comfort to have him with her as a steady, supportive presence.

When they finally reached Satou’s hospital room and they entered, Sakura gasped. Apparently, Satou had considered this place a prison cell rather than a patient room. The bed was tipped, and the curtain torn from the rod above the windows. The massive punched out crevices in the walls around them were threatening portraits of warning. Sakura heard Mako echo her surprise. Sensing their presence, Satou turned from the window and glowered at them.

“Glad to see my warden has finally come to see me,” the man spat viciously.

While Mako’s expression was one of disbelief, Sakura erased the emotion from her own, slipping on a blank pretense. Forget step three of her plan, then. It was obvious what kind of man Satou was. He had no respect or care in the world for anyone and her kindness would be seen as a weakness to bully her for. Pretending to be civil would be an entire waste of her time because Sakura recognized the hate in Satou’s eyes, glassy pools that reflected the darkness in his heart. How bitter it made Sakura—to see Sasuke’s formal self in one of her patients; how hopeless this conversation would be even though he was the one person who needed it the most.

Sakura believed this man deserved her gentlest persona, but Sakura had tried playing this game before and failed miserably with Sasuke. If Sakura—a former teammate and close friend—couldn’t have reached into the depth of Sasuke’s darkness and rip him from it, then how could she expect to be successful with an absolute stranger? She thought of Naruto and Gaara and how they might approach this. Adopting Naruto’s methods before, Sakurahad fought Sasuke to knock some sense into him, but Sakura couldn’t just go starting fights with her patients.

Confidence then. Sakura crossed her arms behind her back and raised her chin. “I’m not your warden; just someone who is trying to help you and your son.”

He began to laugh—that psychotic pitch that set Sakura’s heart racing. It frightened her to see that this man was more lost than she had thought. This wasn’t just a man who had taken his anger out on his son. “That’s what pisses me off the most about you leaf village filth. You think you have the right to march in and do as you please.”

Mako responded before Sakura could silence him, “Be careful what you say. Haruno-san is an honored guest of the Lord Kazekage and he asked for her assistance at the hospital.”

Well half true. I did invite myself here I suppose. Sakura didn’t correct Mako; Satou was completely prejudiced toward Konoha and its citizens.  She reminded herself to steer clear of the political past between their two villages. Satou’s next comment brought an immediate halt to Sakura’a analytical approach to reasoning with him.

“You’d think the Kazekage wouldn’t give his whores a false sense of entitlement in village they don’t belong in.”

It was hard to contain her inner voice at that moment, who happened to be screaming loudly. WHO THE HELL DOES THIS BASTARD THINK HE IS?

Sakura let out a calming breath and put hand on Mako’s arm who was surprisingly doing a good enough job for the both of them at giving this terrifying ninja a piece of his mind despite the aptitude gap.

Before she could respond, the door opened and someone stepped in. Seeing Sasuke momentarily took her aback because that powder job should have taken him at least 45 minutes to complete, yet here he was a mere 10 minutes after being assigned the task. He must have a question.

And then Sakura saw his face. A red and purple combination flashed towards Satou and Sakura’s stomach dropped to her feet. Had he just heard what Satou called her?

When Sakura reached him and placed a hand on his arm, his gaze snapped from Satou and landed on her. “Did you need something?” she asked kindly, assessing the situation and deciding to act casually. Maybe if she came off as unaffected by Satou’s comment, then Sasuke wouldn’t feel the need to react.

“Here,” he responded gruffly after recovering some composure, shoving the mortar she had given him earlier towards the space between them. “You said you needed this quickly didn’t you? Go on ahead and make the batch. I’ll talk to this guy.”

Sakura briefly savored the startled look on Satou’s face before turning her body towards Sasuke so she could whisper in private with her teammate. “Sasuke, I don’t think that’s—”

“It’s fine,” he softened his murmur to match her whisper. As he said this, his sharingan faded and his emotionless mask slipped back on. “Just a talk between ninja.”

“I think it’s a great idea,” came Mako’s eager voice behind her, “I’ll stay too. You go on ahead and make that batch before time runs out.”

Sakura snapped her head towards him, shaking her head with large eyes in silent begging, but Sasuke was the one who spoke. “I didn’t ask you to stay. You can leave too.”

“He stays,” Sakura volunteered, to which Sasuke glowered at her for. “A doctor must be present during an exam, after all.” This was most definitely not professional, but Sakura had used a “time” excuse to keep Sasuke busy earlier. Mako knew as well as she did that it didn’t matter what time the Ashuwa was added to the mixture, and he was using her lie against her. She didn’t know her friend of a medic could be manipulative like that. Mako knew she didn’t want to tell Sasuke that she had fibbed about it.

Grabbing the mortar, Sakura peered up into the Uchiha’s eyes, reconsidering her fear of the two ninja meeting. If Naruto or Gaara weren’t here, maybe Sasuke was the next best person to talk to him. Now that he had come back to the light, perhaps Sasuke could reach Satou in a way that Sakura wouldn’t be able to. Sometimes people who had experienced trauma would only listen to someone who had shared a similar pain. And it had been proven to her throughout the years that sometimes only monsters could understand monsters.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Sasuke waited until Sakura’s footsteps receded far enough down the hall before his eyes locked onto Satou for the second time.

“Uchiha. Uchiha Sasuke isn’t it?” Satou inquired, daring to speak first. “I never would have guessed I’d ever see your face again after the war.”

“Good. You know me.” Sasuke announced, fully entering the space and leaning against the right-most wall, just fifteen feet away from Satou in this small room. “Then you’re aware of the terrible things that I have done to better men than you.” To be honest, Sasuke hated to play the reputation card—in fact, he wanted to get as far from his past as possible, but he needed this bastard to know just exactly what he could still do to someone that pushed him far enough.

He noticed Mako shift excitedly at the left of the entrance. Apparently Mako was hoping for a show. Good, Sasuke thought, he needed to hear this too if the male physician had future plans to stay next to his friend.

Sasuke got straight to it. “The truth is that you’re not going to listen to anyone, so this is going to be a waste of time and breath.” Sasuke knew because he had been in this exact same frame of mind before.

“So why bother staying?” the man spat, rage leaking from his mouth like saliva from a rabid beast. Sasuke was correct in his analogy. Like Sasuke himself had once been, Satou was nothing more than a creature that there was no hope left for, and it needed to be taken out of this world. That’s what Gaara had practically told Naruto to do—take Sasuke out and do the right thing as his friend. It’s what Sakura had tried to do and failed.

But Naruto had done the impossible. With memories of his friend in his heart, Sasuke sighed and willed himself to put at least a little bit of effort into this for his friends’ benefit.

“For the sake of the woman you just called a whore. I care more about her and her goal than the few minutes I could be doing something more beneficial than talking to you.”  Of course, he would never tell her that.

Sasuke felt like there was no point in beating around the bush. His voice would give out if he continued talking at this rate. He reminded himself that he didn’t owe any explanation, any psychological nonsense, just the cold truth that Satou needed to hear. Despite how hard he might try, Sasuke wouldn’t be able to pull this off like Naruto. Naruto would have marched up to him like a bull, grabbed his collar, proceed to threaten him for saying such a thing to Sakura, and then somehow miraculously convince this man to change.

Sasuke on the other hand, was less predictable. Depending on which part of his life you looked at, Sasuke could have had several reactions to Satou’s comment. The Sasuke before Orochimaru would have been angry but level-headed, at most offering the man an analytical glare. Sasuke immediately post-cursemark would have gutted him in the same mania he had broken that sound ninja’s arms in the Forest of Death. Vengeance-bent Sasuke would have completely not cared at all. But the Sasuke he was now? Even though he was on his path of redemption now, something in him had become honed again, sharpened along with the internal acknowledgement that he had feelings for Sakura. Despite his accepting of the truth, Sasuke hadn’t anticipated feeling this defensive and this is what scared Sasuke the most about himself—his unpredictability.

When Sasuke had tried to sever his bonds, it was to eliminate the feelings that came with them. He had seen it as a weakness. If his attachments were few, then Sasuke could remain loyal to a way of life he hoped for, one of peace. But having Sakura near again and feeling responsible for her had Sasuke fearing for the worst about his character. He had relayed this concern to Naruto before he left the village several weeks ago. “What will keep me from the darkness? From choosing the path of revenge?” “I will,” Naruto had responded. “I’ll stop you.” If men like this were regular in Sakura’s life, how could Naruto guarantee that Sasuke wouldn’t snap one day and kill every single person who threatened to do her harm? What if one of them succeeded? Could Naruto prevent everything? Stop, Sasuke told himself. Stop thinking like that.

Satou didn’t laugh again for the entire conversation. He remained standing by the window, narrowing his eyes at Sasuke in wary consideration since the Uchiha had arrived—not scared necessarily, but an enemy weighing his odds and deciding to avoid major triggers. Smart, Sasuke thought. Not completely brain dead then.

As Sasuke was consumed in silent thought, Mako stepped in for him. It was the first time all day Sasuke liked the medic. “We know that your wife died. Is that the reason you are abusing your son?”

Unlike with Sasuke, Satou revealed his temper, like a bomb going off without warning. “WHAT I DO WITH MY SON IS NOBODY’S DAMN BUSINESS BUT MY OWN.”

Unaffected by the sudden rise in volume, Sasuke surveyed the damaged room around them. Satou sure made it look like he was being held against his will, but the truth was, Sasuke realized, that if Satou had truly wanted to leave, he would have. There was nobody physically stopping him from leaving. The only thing really holding him here was Gaara’s command. Ah, so that was it. Badmouth the Kazekage all he wanted, Satou still respected one thing and that was power.

Sasuke tested the theory with, “The Kazekage believes it is his business.”

“Everything is apparently his damn business,” Satou growled in his direction.

Sasuke immediately noted that this was not a shouted response like he did when Mako spoke. Sasuke deduced that Satou held enough respect for the people he feared. That included himself. Damn. How annoying; Sasuke was going to have to do all the talking after all. To be honest, Sasuke had just wanted to remove Sakura from the situation and came up with the “talking” part to get Sakura to leave. Now, he supposed he would have to deliver.

Mako tried reasoning with him again: “Does the child remind you of your wife? Is that the reason you mistreat him?”

Satou’s eyes grew wide at Mako’s question. “HOW DARE YOU-“

Forget it. Talking like this was getting them nowhere. Sasuke’s visual prowess was nowhere near restored, but what Sasuke planned to do wouldn’t take up much chakra anyway. This wasn’t his typical style, but trying to talk with this man sure as hell wasn’t his style either. Sasuke revealed the black tomoes of his right Sharingan, instantly immobilizing the man where he stood.

“What are you doing?” Mako asked with concern, walking up beside him. “You’re not going to use a genjutsu?!”

“Just shut up and stay out of it,” Sasuke announced in annoyance. “I am getting the answers.”

Satou’s mind was a black, fiery wasteland that Sasuke stepped out on. The ninja’s memories appeared before him like colorless corpses rising from the grave. Sasuke walked forward toward the past surveying memories in order from most recent to oldest. The first memory that shaped in the air before him had Sasuke considering deactivating the jutsu. Whether he had subconsciously looking for this memory or not, Sasuke didn’t know, but he watched it play out before him. His pink-haired teammate was standing her ground, glaring up into the face of the man whose memories Sasuke violated. Sasuke frowned in hatred at the image of his fingers jabbing into her chest. Satou was looking down at her with a ferocity that he had yet to display towards anyone else. Why?

On cue, another memory emerged, connected to this one and providing Sasuke with the answer he wanted. It was during the war and Satou was immobilized on a cot, bandaged and regaining consciousness. Pink hair came into the ninja’s vision as he tried to roll to the side. “Miss,” he called toward the female ninja. “Where am I?”

“Stay still,” Sakura ordered him, pushing him back down on the cot. “Your leg is severely injured and needs to remain immobile.” She began giving orders to her assistants when a boom suddenly sounded somewhere nearby. Satou watched as she got to her feet and headed in that direction as someone began screaming her name.

“My wife,” he croaked, trying again to rise. This time, no one stopped him as he began to fumble towards the line of patients, some unconscious, others screaming. “Rina,” he sobbed, searching the faces of the incapacitated. “Where are you?”

He finally found her in the back row and he began limping faster toward her. “Rina!” he screamed, falling to his knees beside the woman who was bloody almost beyond recognition. Sasuke looked away from the memory as Satou began searching with hands for the wound on her body. Somehow the woman had reopened her injury and was now bleeding through the bandaging.  When Satou found it, he began to moan. Satou clutched onto his broken wife and lifted her despite his leg. He was barely able to support her as he began limping back toward the medical professionals. “Haruno!” he tried to shout after the woman who had disappeared in the rising clouds of debris and dust. “Haruno!”

When a medic finally arrived to assist him, it wasn’t the one Satou had hoped for. “Please,” he begged them. “She’s dying—bleeding out!”

Sasuke saw the man’s world shatter on his face when the medic began to shake his head after checking the woman’s pulse. “I am sorry sir. She’s already gone.”

“No!” he began to scream, picking up his wife again and limping after the woman he believed could still save her. The memory ended after Satou disappeared into the rubble screaming after someone he clearly never found.

So that was it, Sasuke realized, stepping toward a new memory that materialized in the swirling darkness. He blamed Sakura for his wife’s death.

The next memory Sasuke played was Satou returning from the war and staring into the face of the child he and his wife had left behind. Sasuke was shocked at the resemblance the child held of Rina; Sasuke witnessed Satou experience the blow of pain that came at seeing the same likeness. When the child reached for him with tears in his eyes, Satou turned away from him, covering his anguished face and stepping past the threshold. Isao’s current caretaker reached for him to relieve his father’s neglect.

Sasuke felt like he had ashes in his mouth. He was more familiar with grief than anyone, but grief affected people in different ways. Sasuke both understood and didn’t understand. He didn’t dare go further; Sasuke knew what happened next concerning the child and didn’t want to see it for himself.

Deactivating his Sharingan, Sasuke withdrew from the black backdrop of Satou’s mind.

“What did you just do?” Satou asked, sinking to the floor on his knees and holding his head, an aftereffect that had Mako looking between the two ninja in fearful concern.

Sasuke saw no point in explaining to either of them. Satou was more than aware of what just happened. “I could erase a couple of those memories,” Sasuke explained to the whimpering man on the floor who gazed up at him in anger. “Is that what you want?”

Satou hesitated before saying, “You could really do that?”

“Is that what you really want?” Sasuke asked bitterly, “for someone to reach into your mind and take away all memory of your wife or child? To dishonor the both of them?”

“No,” Satou declared at that. “Not if it will remove them from my memory. The pain— just take that away.”

“Pain is a part of life and not something I can tamper with,” Sasuke deadpanned. “If you let it, your pain will turn into darkness, consume you, and taint every aspect of your life. Your son is the only thing you have left of your wife. You should value that and cling to that as your light.”

Sasuke understood what Sakura meant earlier when she told Sasuke her conversation with Gaara about the past generation affecting the next with their toxicity. Satou didn’t repond and Sasuke didn’t say anything else. He had said what he needed to although it left the Uchiha feeling like a hypocrite.

Turning to Mako, Sasuke declared, “Send the son to the Leaf’s mental health clinic; get him as far away as you can. The child needs to be in a different environment, or he will turn out like father. It’ll give Satou some time to reconsider what’s important to him.”

Opening the door, Sasuke thought twice before exiting. “Also,” he remarked to the man who began to sob on the ground. “The next time you lay your hands on my friend, you’ll have me to deal with, not the Kazekage.”

Satou began to scream in anger, throwing things against the walls again. The door swung shut behind Sasuke and Mako, closing the prisoner in his self-made cell.