#I have no tolerance for those who walk over somebody else's boundaries | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

damnusillygoose · 4 years

Text

Somebody is jealous( jellal’s edition)

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13786166/2/somebody-is-jealous

for erza’s edition:

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13786166/1/somebody-is-jealous

Thank you sapphireblue2007 for suggesting me to write jellal's version.

Disclaimer: these characters are rightfully owned by hiro sensei.

Somebody is Jealous (Jellal's edition)

Well, Jellal perceives himself as a very liberal and progressive person.

He wasn't a possessive person. No, not at all- Even in his relationship with Erza, he believed in giving ample space for growth and self-introspection to each other. He certainly didn't believe in getting jealous when one's partner gets some excessive attention from the opposite gender. Nope, not at all, he was a progressive person, wasn't he? He didn't want to smother her with suffocation. Jellal was aware of the fact that his woman was a strong person who didn't need anyone to save her. She was her own person and stood up for what she believed in. That's how he viewed relationships- a sweet added bonus to one's life, separate from a person's purpose in life.

Yet,

He felt horrified, as he realised, he was shamelessly contradicting his very own beliefs. His eyes twitched in mild irritation, well not exactly mild- only slight, that's how he soothed his not so jealous soul, as he watched the scene before him unfold.

His beloved was sitting comfortably on one of the chairs kept near the bar, eating her sweet dessert in contentment, oblivious to the lusty stares that eyed her glorious exposed thighs and cleavage. There were men hovering around her, drooling repugnantly.

Erza was a beautiful woman. It was an established fact. Not only did she win various beauty pageants, but she also attracted scores of men who simped after her and bolstered her as their 'waifu'!

Jellal was fucking replete with fury when he came to learn about this obnoxious verbiage. What a derogatory term! He opined. How dare they lust after Erza and claim her as their 'waifu'?! well, typically he was doing the same. But he was her partner and it's pretty healthy in a relationship to be intimately attracted to your partner! Yep, he reasoned with his conscience.

It was no secret that men secretly/openly lusted after females who were fairly popular. Given fairy tail's reputation, they were inglorious for being rambunctious all over the continent. This shouldn't come as a surprise to Jellal that Erza was kind of a national crush of Fiore. She even got disgusting offer letters from rich officials asking her to be their mistress. Every single person, be it a man or a woman, acknowledged her regal presence. Wherever they went, people were in awe of her. She was a beautiful woman, confident and sassy, along with a splendid personality. Who wouldn't be attracted to such an amazing person?

Analysing her fan following, he was sure of the fact that Erza must have dated some men in the past. However, He gasped in utter disbelief when he got to know that despite of the attention she received; she never laid her eyes on another man. They were reserved for him. Always.

He was her first man, the first man who held her hand, the first man who witnessed her vulnerable side, her first kiss, the one who took her virginity, the one she would like to start a family with and the only one who she would devote her heart to.

Forever.

That gave him a superior complex over all those degenerates who hated him for stealing their waifu.

Her devotion made him feel extremely fortunate, to get a woman who would choose him over everything else.

But that didn't mean that he couldn't get jealous.

'Oi chad, snap out from your murderous intent, will ya?'

'Laxus.'

'What happened? Why are you in such a bad mood?', Laxus raised his eyebrows in amusement. It was fun teasing Jellal especially when he was in a foul mood.

'Jelly-chan is jealous because other men in the party are eyeing Erza ravenously!', Meredy chimed in the scene, humming a tune under her breath almost nonchalantly.

Laxus let out a nasty cackle as he smashed his beer pint against the wooden table they currently occupied. Meredy joined in with her sniggers; annoying Jellal in his misery.

'Cheer up Jelly chan, if you brood so much, you will end up getting wrinkles quickly and look almost 20 years elder to Erza!'

'Stop calling me Jelly chan, Meredy!'

'Why? I think that name suits you a lot Jellal.'

Oh no.

The trio turned around to acknowledge the owner of this sardonic comment.

Erik approached the group with a wide smirk plastered on his face, much to Jellal's discontentment.

What a great timing. Now they will gang up to bully me.

'Say Jellal, want to murder those assholes? I could feel your malignity from the far end of the hall, reverberating louder than Gajeel's singing shit'

'I wouldn't go that far, they are just harmless flies'

Actually, he could.

'Then why are you getting so hot-headed over those harmless flies?', Meredy smiled knowingly.

'I am not.'

'oh boss! Stop lying with your pathetic ass!'

'I am not lying Erik!'

Erik scoffed at his reply. He didn't even try to hide it.

'Then what do you plan on doing chad boy? Just sit in a corner like a lost puppy and watch as those men eye your woman?', laxus joined in the conversation, adding oil to the fuming spark.

'I can't pause to throw a stone at every dog that barks. Plus, Erza is a strong woman. I shouldn't stick my nose where it isn't needed. I think she is capable of handling this herself.'

But actually, he was trying his best not to jump in the scene and take her away from those bastards but he didn't want to appear as a jealous freak who had no control over his irrational aspect.

'of course, she is Jellal', Meredy reasoned,' but a woman, no matter how strong she is, would love to be spoiled by her man and feel protected. That doesn't mean you are undermining her strength. It's called chivalry.'

'…'

'What about ramming some hot iron rods up in their assholes?', laxus had no chill at all.

'Laxus your speech is so vulgar', Jellal cringed.

'Not as vulgar as your mind, boss'

'Erik, listen up- '

'it's okay Jellal', Meredy patted his back sympathetically, 'You are always harsh on yourself. You don't have to berate yourself so much. Being jealous is a sign of affection after all.'

'Really?', he raised his eyebrows in suspicion.

'Well, when exercised in moderation. Don't become Juvia though.', Laxus grimaced in exasperation.

'I just-I can't handle those people who eye her like she is their personal property!'

'Oohoohoo, finally the lover boy is being honest!', laxus slapped his hand against jellal's back harshly.

Jellal ignored his remark and chose to focus upon what Erza was doing.

Erza, unfortunately, was already surrounded by random men drooling over her assets while he was busy merry making with his guild mates.

He was pissed. He was fucking pissed.

He clenched his fist in impuissance until his knuckles turned white. He let out a shaky breath, biting his lips, trying his best not to eradicate their existence by casting sema right at this moment

'Erza-sama, I know this beautiful villa by the country side that I can rent for you. Would you like to witness that scenic beauty? I can make the arrangement just for the two of us.'

'uh, no thank you. I am not interested, I am busy at the moment with my ongoing missions but I would certainly take-out time to visit this said place with my friends and my boyfriend', Erza exaggerated the last part to make this pathetic pervert clear of the fact that she wasn't interested in his offer.

'He doesn't need to know'

'When I said I won't go, I won't go. Please learn to respect a woman.'

She was already seething at this moment, ready to requip in her armour to beat the shit out of these perverts but she held herself back. This was an important party for her guild as many magic council officials appeared to discuss some important matters with master Makarov.

'Erza-sama!', another pervert chimed in, 'what about-!

'My honeyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!'

Erza felt a shiver travelling down her spine even before she could react from the horror of hearing his voice. She didn't need to see who this abhorrent creature was. She didn't even acknowledge him as a person. Ichiya had already latched himself around her leg giving it a wild sniff, trespassing all boundaries of her private space.

This is it. This was her limit.

She was shaking wild. Her fingers were itching from wrath as she tried to remove him from her. These men latched themselves upon her despite being firmly rejected by her. She was being polite and considerate of her guild. That's the only reason she somehow tolerated their creepy remarks. She desperately searched for familiar eyes through the crowd that was bustling from the onset of vibrant ebullience. She grew impatient by every single moment when she failed in her search to find them. That's when she felt a presence behind her. The eyes she was searching for were already looking down from their vantage but not at her. She followed his eyes to find them glued on Ichiya.

Jellal got hold of Ichiya's hand and ruthlessly broke him apart from Erza's legs, not caring for a single second where his poor ass landed.

'Ichiya-san, that's a unique way of greeting someone. It could very well qualify as harassment you know', Jellal hissed menacingly, walking in front of Erza to make a defensive guard around her.

Jellal was a master at hiding his emotions and maintaining a stoic demeanour but Erza could still look beyond that very well.

He appeared perfectly placid but he wasn't.

His eyes bellowed bloodlust. He was growling with belligerence.

He was not going to let these repulsive hands touch the body that he revered so much.

The rest of the crowd started to disperse, succumbing to the impingement Jellal displayed, while laxus, Meredy and Erik watched the scene in awe. That's the impact Jellal's presence wielded.

There was a limit to which this man could tolerate bullshit after all. This was Jellal, who was fiercely protective of the woman he loved.

Erza snickered to herself smugly seeing the crowd become frail upon his arrival. These were some spineless cowards who weren't even half the man her Jellal was.

Jellal blissfully ignored the crowd that was whispering his name with resentment, something along the lines of 'their waifu'

He looked at Erza, taking in a deep breath of relief as he put his hands over her shoulders securely.

'Well gentlemen, I just remembered that my boyfriend and I have some work to do, if you will excuse us.' Erza stood up from her chair and bowed her head signalling her departure as she grabbed hold of jellal's hands, leading them across the hall through the exit door. Jellal looked at his guild mates who were giving him smug smiles and thumbs ups.

After exiting the guild, Jellal let out a sigh as they strode further away from that crowd. He still was shaking, his hysteria urging him to go back and beat the shit out of those bastards. He tore his thoughts away from the former events and looked sideways at the enchanting woman walking by his side.

'This dress really looks nice on you.'

'Thank you, sweetheart', Erza smiled and turned her face to give him a chaste peck on his cheeks. 'But I think I will opt for a less revealing outfit next time for a formal party like this'

'Why?'

'tch, didn't you see for yourself what happened today?'

'Don't fret about those assholes, just wear what you want', he snaked his arm around her waist protectively to pull her closer to him.

Jellal rarely cursed, that meant he was infuriated right now.

'Jellal', she whispered lovingly, taking his face in her hands, 'look at me'

He locked his gaze with her, facing her completely. His arms gently fondled her waist, pulling her entirely towards himself.

She leaned into him, melting like butter.

'I love you Jellal.' She brought his face towards hers until their foreheads were touching each other, 'Thank you for helping me back then. I was really helpless'.

They closed their eyes and sighed in synchronisation. She felt his arms locking her into a tight embrace, clutching the fabric of her dress.

'I just…..couldn't help myself when I saw them degrading you like that.' He felt the weight of her hands shifting down towards his neck, near his sensitive spot which only she knew about, caressing it to calm him down.

'Thank you love, but don't over-exert yourself over this issue, this isn't worth your time and effort', she looked at him tenderly. Jellal was such a worrywart but she loved him the same.

'yeah…you are right', he leaned into her, nuzzling his nose with hers, her sweet scent taming his raging heartbeat down, 'I love you too'

It's almost been a year since they started dating and obviously they never hesitated to show their love to each other- verbally, physically or emotionally, but Erza would never get tired of Jellal saying 'I love you' to her. She had dreamed about it so long, she yearned about it ever since she realised her feelings for him, she would never take his confessions for granted. It still had the same impact on her as the first time he poured his heart out to her.

Such was their affection for each other-always raging against the odds.

The hooting of the owls could be heard in the depth of the night. A sudden breeze struck her form as she shivered from the lack of her clothing, she had worn a simple flowy dress, not deemed to be fit in a chilly weather.

'it's getting cold Erza', Jellal pointed out as he draped his coated over her shoulders, 'let's go home'.

She hummed lightly in solace as she felt his lips softly touch her forehead. She entwined her hand with his as they started treading towards the path that led to their small cottage, their personal heaven.

'Can you make me a strawberry smoothie with vanilla ice cream?', she asked him tentatively, testing her waters.

'I thought you wanted to curb your midnight snacking'

'But jelllaaaaaaaaaaaal!', she wailed in desperation, 'dealing with those perverts drained my energy!'

'I can always make a bowl of fruits oats for you.'

'Noooooooo! That's way too heathy!'

'Okay how about this?', he tried to reason with her, 'I'll make milk oats for you with honey and loads of freshly cut strawberries. Sounds like a good deal to me, what do you think?'

She thought about the offer for a moment. It did actually sound like a good deal. She knew she kind of gave in to her midnight sugar cravings. Milk oats were a heathier option.

She pouted and tried to act a little spoiled, 'only if you bribe me.'

'What a scandal! The great titania is asking for a bribe!', he nudged her shoulder playfully and she huffed in response to his actions, 'what are your demands?'

'You need to pepper me with as many kisses as I ask you for!'

' My, My, I was already planning on giving you a thousand kisses when we reach home, don't worry about that', he replied as he gave her a wink making her blush profusely.

If anyone heard them conversing in this manner, their eyeballs would pop out from their eye sockets. They were incredible mages, well versed with the ethics of professionalism. They completed their tasks seriously but when they were alone, it becomes a different story.

A/N: if you liked my story please leave a review and do check out my works as well.

Constructive criticism is appreciated.

Keep loving Jerza!

#jerza #fairy tail #fairy tail jerza #jellal fernandez #jellal x erza #erza scarlet #crime sorciere #fairy tail laxus #Meredy

18 notes · View notes

purgatoryandme · 4 years

Note

Hello!!! Happy 3 day new year!! I just saw your previous reply on shadow work and just wanted to ask you a question. What behaviour would you call someone who has hurt you in the past but tells you to "get over it" and to "not hold any more negative energy" anymore about that hurt? Would you say that it's gaslighting to dictate how long a person can be hurt over something/an action that you do? Thank you!!

I think it really depends on the full context of the situation and how holding onto that hurt affects you and a relationship that you may or may not want to keep. If a person has a pattern of behaviour that is injurious to you, wherein they are consistently disrespecting boundaries that have been communicated or are being inconsiderate after conversations about how their behaviour is hurtful, then ‘forgive and forget’ is a poor approach and them treating your hurts as ‘negative energy’ is skewing your relationship in an unhealthy direction that puts your needs below theirs. However, if a person isn’t aware they hurt you, or if the hurt was a single time event that they have apologized for and tried to move past, then the situation becomes a little more complicated. Mindfulness exercises will teach you that holding onto hurts, especially for years, and using them as a reflexive defence or punishment in a relationship in which you feel insecure is bad for YOU. For instance, if you were friends with someone who stole your boyfriend in high school, bringing that up whenever you fight or feel insecure is hurtful behaviour on your part that fails to acknowledge any of the work that person has put in to make up for their mistakes and also avoids the real issue (whatever it is you may be fighting about currently). This kind of behaviour is common in families - when you live with people, especially since childhood, they cannot avoid hurting you at some point, but bringing it up constantly in a competition of who-hurt-who-the-most only makes each new conflict worse. Everyone makes mistakes, and while some hurts are difficult to move past, when leaning on that hurt only hurts you and the other party more...what’s the point? Nobody can dictate when and how they get over something fully, but we all dictate when we start that journey and how much work we put into it for ourselves and others. We also dictate how we communicate those hurts and the limit to which we will tolerate exposing ourselves to them. In that vein, I really think ‘gaslighting’ has become a pop psych term online that people use to highlight the current divide between ‘toxic’ and ‘good’ people. Genuine gaslighting behaviour has intent behind it, is an established pattern of behaviour, and is designed to make a person question their own perception and memories of an event. Telling someone to get over something isn’t gaslighting, but telling them that everyone else involved has moved past it, that it wasn’t that bad, that it happened longer ago than it did, that you weren’t that hurt at the time CONSISTENTLY is, especially when the person tries to highlight the irrationality of your behaviour to yourself and brings in other people. Gaslighting is manipulative behaviour and needs to be squashed quickly when it arises if this is still someone you want in your life, which they might be. Anyway, I don’t believe in removing negativity from your life either by cutting people off or by simply getting over things (re: no negative energy :))))) ). Life isn’t black and white, people are stupid, and it’s hard to be human. Anger, sadness, grief, hurt - they’re all important emotions and I think their expression allows us all to become better people and to feel more connected at the root of it all. It’s best to express those things and struggle your way through communication at least once before deciding if you want to work with somebody to patch things up or if you want to remove them entirely. Fight with them! Argue! Cry! Punch a hole in their wall! Be vulnerable enough to expose why you can’t get over something! Maybe you’ll iron things out, or find out enough about how they feel that you can work towards forgiving them. Or, if you feel they’ve changed since they hurt you (in a good way or a bad way) and you’re tired of it all, tired of yourself, tired of not being able to discuss it with them because maybe you two aren’t the kind of people who can do that, sit with the feeling for awhile and change your perspective of their relationship with you. You can keep people in your life without trusting them. You can learn to love them again from a different angle, knowing that the scar they left will always be there. You have choices when you stop trying to think of everything as right and wrong or healthy and unhealthy. People have friends for different things, and some people aren’t the friends that you share all your thoughts with, and some people ARE but they’ll never agree with you and that’s ok. There are friends who cut you off at the knees because you’re destroying your own life, there are friends who help you rebuild, there are friends who are only friends when the world is falling apart - they’re not all the same, and not all of them can be trusted with all your secrets, and some of them can become damaging when you place them in a different context, but none of them are inherently right for you or wrong for you. To finalize this whole thing without knowing any of the context in which you’re asking, I’m definitely hypocritical about a lot of this and it isn’t easy. That said, I’ve kept a lot of people in my life for over a decade, and I’ll tell you with complete honesty that plenty of that decade hasn’t been good for us. Most of my closest friends were, at some point, people who hated me, and some were bullies directly involved in one of the worst periods of my life. We’ve been close, then grown apart, then close again until we learned each other’s limits and even then new limits came up through mental health crises and mutual ignorance. I’ve grown apart more permanently from some of my best friends when they’ve changed, not necessarily into worse people, but into people incompatible with me, too. So yeah, thinking on shadow work and the like, everybody has something terrible inside of them and if you stick around you’ll see it. Sometimes it can be worked past, where the shitty things in them match up with the shitty things in you, and you’ve hurt each other enough times that it all kindof evens out. Sometimes it can’t be. But you’ve got to look into yourself, consider what you can tolerate and if you want them around, and then either try or walk away - and even then it doesn’t have to be forever. Hopefully that helps?

#reply #vague answer is vague #and long #but yeah it's just #i've been a shitty person enough times #that i always think of Hanlon's Razor #never attribute to malice what can be explained by stupidity

4 notes · View notes

ocular-intercourse · 4 years

Text

@mangosandchili and number 3, teddy

🌲 What is the kindest thing your OC has ever done for someone? What is the kindest thing someone has ever done for them? On the flip side, what is the worst thing your OC has done to another person?

This question is hard to answer for Teddy for exactly the opposite reason that I had for Ace. Cause his base mode is being kind, oozing kindness all over the place to people deserving and undeserving, so it’s hard to pick something that stands out. The kindest thing he has done is probably allowing his brother to profit from his life experiences, writing books ‘about’ him, without getting anything from it. The kindest thing someone has done for him was his father’s wife accepting him into their family, raising him, though he was not her child. He is still very much in awe by her doing that. The worst thing he has done to people probably depends on who you ask or what you consider bad. Maybe it’s making his family worry that one time he tried to run away while they were on vacation. He has a homophobic grandmother he cut out of his life, she most definitely thinks he did something cruel to her, both by being gay, non-christian and avoiding her, telling her she is the bad one?? He himself would probably answer that killing someone, even in self-defense, was the worst thing he ever did. You can’t convince him otherwise.

🌳 What does your OC do when they see others upset or in pain? An upset friend? A stranger?

He is another one of those who will always help as best he can. With him that even extends to people he actively dislikes. He can’t help it. Ted is the emotional sponge of his friend group, the go-to for non-official therapy, he overextends himself and let’s people step over his boundaries more often than he should. To him seeing somebody else suffer feels very much like he’s suffering himself, he’s hyper empathic in some ways, so helping them feels like helping himself, cause he wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about it till it’s solved anyways.

🌿 What is something true about your OC that they refuse to admit about themselves? Is there any reason to this besides embarrassment?

It’s probably a form of refusing to admit it, more like refusing to see it, not actively I might add. If you’d ask people around him to put down some words to describe him and ask teddy to do the same, there’s one word that would appear a bunch of times on their list but never on his, it would be bossy. In his mind he’s this gentle submissive guy that more often than not gets walked over by others and pushed around.. it’s not really true though. Not always at least. It’s probably him trying to steer against not being taken seriously. He has no problem speaking out, putting his opinion out there, letting people know what he needs.. He would absolutely be embarrassed about being considered bossy, cause it fits into his self-image so little.

🍃 Describe a regular day for your OC. What is their schedule (if they have one).

He’s not a schedule kind of guy, more of a head-in-the-clouds let’s see what happens today kind of person. The only strict routine he has is about eating, as a tool of keeping tabs on his eating disorder. He’ll also try and spend as much time as he gets in nature or at least surrounded by plants, alternatively animals. There’s a massive greenhouse on the academy grounds and him and his siblings take care of the plants, if you ever try to find him it’s probably there. Before the attack you might have gone looking for him in the woods, but he’s been avoiding them ever since.

🍁 What is your OC’s most traumatic experience? (If they don’t have just one traumatic experience either pick one or describe them all!)

There’s some that come to mind. I have talked about the academy attack before, and how he had to fight and unwillingly kill. It’s definitely something he’s struggling with, especially since there’s not really a way to deal with it, in the real world, and not really a support system of sorts at the academy. The students are more or less left to deal with the aftermath alone, some guidance maybe from the teachers, but they are not equipped to handle something like that.

Another one is when it was revealed to him that he is a demi-god and his mother is not his biological mother. His whole world view turned upside down, he felt like a stranger in his family and like a constant source of pain for his mother. That’s when he tried to run away, since he was not one of them anyways, why not spare them the trouble of having him around. That’s part of what lead to him developing the eating disorder. He felt like he had no control over anything, but he could at least control very strictly what he ate and when he ate and that mostly made him forbid himself from eating entirely, for as long as he could get himself to, then binging, purging, repeating. His parents picked up on that quite fast and got him help though, but it’s still something that resurfaces a bit when he feels like things are out of control.

Something else that happened when he was absolutely too young for it, maybe 15, being the gay kid in school and bullied for it, getting the attention from one of his friend’s older brothers, starting to hang around with his friend group, going to parties, doing drugs, all under the cover of being accepted there and wanting to belong and seem cool, waking up drugged in positions he did not want to be in, touched by people he did not know, all somewhat orchestrated or at least permitted, tolerated, by said older brother. He got the fuck out of there before anything too bad could happen (as far as he remembers) and is very very thankful for having been lucky, conscious and responsive enough to be able to pull the breaks and protect himself. But it definitely put a spin on his ability to trust people for a long time, and made it hard for a while to come to terms with his identity cause if the only other interaction you had with gay people was /that/ it does not exactly make you want to belong to the community.

🍄 How would your OC react to the death of a friend/family member/loved one? Is there anyone they can confide in?

He would definitely be devastated. But he also has a very good support system, a lot of people around to catch him and lead him through his grief. It’s not out of the ordinary, something that happens to people in life, that is painful, but part of it. He tries to see it kinda holistically, it’s just part of the universe, neither good nor bad, and tries to focus on the joy of having known a person rather than the pain of losing them. He also holds on to the hope of seeing them again.

🌾 What would your OC be like if they were evil. Or if they’re already evil what would they be like as the good guy?

Evil Teddy is cliché eco-terrorist. If people have to die so the planet can survive then it’s justified to let them die, or even our mission to kill them ourselves. Picture James Bond villain Teddy. Bad guy with flair and ideals and a bigger picture plan.

💐 How would your OC react to somebody telling them that they love them? (+ bonus give another characters/OC name!)

Teddy is in love with love, romantically, platonically, he does not care, he loves people and he lets them know, constantly, which mostly inspires people to respond often. So it’s not irregular for him to hear his friends and family telling him that they love him. With Zeke that a whole other thing. Hearing it would make him extremely happy, cause he wants to be loves by Zeke. But since he tends to not show it in actions I think Teddy would, in the worst phases of this behavior, just react bitterly to being told ‘I love you’. Cause he just wouldn’t believe it. It would make it angry, even. If you love me than show it goddamit, what the fuck am I supposed to do with some hollow words..

🌷 What does your OC hate about themself? What lies about themself do they believe? On the flip side, What does your OC love about themself?

Teddy has been on a long journey of self-acceptance ever since he was litte. From learning to deal with his ancestry, to being bullied practically everywhere, to this very shitty introduction to dating, if you want to call it that, hating himself for being different. But he has always had his family and friends who helped him see what was right and what were wrong assumptions, he always had help working through his issues. He went to therapy early, since he developed his eating disorder. He just always had a really really good safety net, that made it possible for him to look at his problems and deal with them head-on. He loves himself; he loves that he is kind and gentle and loving and, well, good. There is honestly not a lot about himself that he would straight up hate. Maybe some things he’d like to change, but he always tries to see the positives even in them. What he definitely does hate though, is that his experience with Zeke is kinda starting to make him doubt again, to have to hide parts of himself that he fought very hard to be proud for. He hates that he let himself get caught in this regressive mindset, straight back to his insecure teens, all because he can’t stop himself from feeling these things for this boy who is not ready for them at all. He’s not entirely sure if he should be mad at himself, at Zeke or at the universe for this unfortunate timing. But that’s all part of the one thing he’d like to change about himself the most, being able to face injustices, especially those directed at himself, a little better. They often just make him hopeless and unable to act cause he does not know what to do, so he just does nothing instead.

🥀 What is something your OC blames themselves for and is it really their fault? Does it keep them up at night and is there any lingering trauma?

Mhmmm, again I think Teddy is not really the person to dwell on these negative things, at least not in regards to him. Like, yeah, he can’t quite deal with having killed a guy, he wished it would not have happened, but he can also see that in that situation there was not a lot of other things he could have done, it was a reaction, he did not mean to do it, but that was a bad guy that very much wanted to kill him and others, so he can see that is was justified somehow. So he suffers, for having done that, but he does not blame himself all that much, personally, cause it was out of his control. Maybe you will find him thinking about what could have gone differently here and there, but those moments are rare, cause he can’t do anything about it anyways. Things he feels guilty about are mostly related to his family, feeling like he burdened them with things one way or another. He can’t quite 100 % believe his mother really accepts him as hers, no hard feelings for his dad’s affair or one-night-stand or whatever, he feels bad about being a reminder of that, he feels undeserving of her love. He feels guilty about worrying others.

🌺 In what situation would your OC be pushed to commit an act of violence? Would they go as far to kill someone if they had to? How would this affect them and their relationships with others?

The answer is usually never. If you would put him in that same situation again, where he’s surrounded by bad guys and he just tries to keep them from being able to hurt anyone and one of them happens to die during that.. that’s not really something he chose to do. If he had known that it would happen he might have not intervened in the same way. He is a pacifist first, always. The attack made him reevaluate some things though, like the necessity of learning how to fight, if only to be able to act more controlled the next time, truly keeping everybody on both sides from dying unnecessarily. He’s the kind of person that wants to believe that everything can be solved by conversations, so he’d never see killing people as a solution. He would kill only if forced to, not by somebody holding a gun to his head and making him do it, but in a situation where the result of the other person not dying would be something he couldn’t live with.

Having killed somebody definitely made Teddy retreat a bit, he hardened a little, did not want people to see him go through that, be a different him. Eventually he did allow himself to share about it more, the easiest with his ex-nemesis who had been there when it happened and who went through the same shit.

Oh, actually, he is a bit more loose about physical violence that won’t leave permanent damage. He’d surprise people with it but he’d absolutely deck a guy in the face if he was being harmful to others.

🌸 What would your OC do if they were given god-like powers or the ability to change anything about the world for a whole day?

Teddy would try and figure out the best way to help as many people in the long run as possible. He would probably come to the conclusion that it would help if you made people understand other people’s struggles and experiences. Maybe a bit of a just dessert kind of solution. He’d put powerful assholes in the shoes of the people they suppress, hoping to make them understand even after that day and maybe change their stances, be nicer.

🌼 Describe one of your OC’s worst nightmares.

Losing hope in the world, in the inherent goodness that he believes in. He’s seen many people, even optimistic ones, become cynical and hopeless considering the state of things. And he understands their reactions, they are probably justified. But he himself just does not want to lose hope, he always wants to believe that people are good and the world is good, and things will end well. But understanding why others become pessimists is just one step too close to following in their footsteps. He refuses to let that happen, he wants to at least, but he is a little scared of failing to keep it up indefinitely, of being proven wrong.

🌻 What advice would your OC give to their younger self? What advice does your OC need now?

Be yourself always. If you feel bad about something it’s probably the right feeling to have. Trust your instincts. Only you can know what’s right for you, the opinions of others might sound nice but that does not make them true. Right now he could probably be reminded that there is strength in kindness and that the cost of it is worth it, always. Also somebody tell him to dump Zeke.

#ocs #teddy #mangosandchili

3 notes · View notes

self-indulgent-sparrow · 6 years

Text

The Party

This is a monster and it just keeps happening. I thought this would clock at maybe 6k??? No. It's 10.7k words. I'm kind of scared. It's 45 pages. Someone hold me.

UM ANYWAY this was an incredibly interesting experiment in writing voices of different characters―I've never really written Simon or Mab or even Dib that much before this. I HOPE I've captured them well, I constantly went through the documents to try to accurately portray them.

It's hard to say what the point of this thing is, outside of “Don't judge a book by its very nice cover” and “respect ppl's decisions and boundaries”. This entire thing was literally just me trying to get Dib and Queenie to have a Chat. Oof.

I apologize in advance to literally everyone for a specific part of this story. You'll know which part, because your soul will leave your body while you experience it.

Enjoy.

you're like a party

somebody threw me, you taste like birthday, you look like new years. you're like a big parade through town: you leave such a mess, but you're so fun!

--the party, regina spektor

"You want to throw a party for Fourth of July? Since when were you so damn patriotic?"

"It's not for Fourth of July in particular," May says, sorting through her recipe box with a small focused frown. "I just kind of figured--there's gonna be fireworks anyway, but I'd like a distraction from the holiday, so why not just make it about having good company in general?"

"That makes absolutely no sense," Kass replies, flicking through the discarded recipe cards. What the hell is yubruk? "Anyone you invite will just think it's a holiday party."

"I really doubt Mab's going to care about a human holiday, and I know Dib's looking forward to not thinking about the current political situation. It's gonna be fine--is my guacamole recipe on the back of one of those cards? I can't find it."

Kass flips some of the cards over, and flicks the card in question towards May's outreached hands across the table.

"Thank you." She glances it over, and then sets it aside to glance at Kass, who is sipping his coffee. "I swear it won't be so bad. It's not gonna be a lot of people, and I'll make the biggest batch of lemonade you've ever seen. You like lemonade, right?"

"Hard lemonade, maybe," he replies shortly.

"Why is everything alcoholic with you."

"I'm an alcoholic."

The girl snorts, slapping her fingers over her mouth to choke down the laugh. Kass continues to drink his coffee, only barely smirking back at her.

"God, you're just the worst," she finally says after the fit of giggles has died.

"I am not the one trying to host a party for a bunch of monsters to pointedly not celebrate the holiday on that day, you little weirdo." He adds, as May sticks her tongue out at him, "Just do me a favor and leave me out of it, alright? This is your inane little get-together, not mine."

"I won't make you do anything, promise. All you have to do is tolerate people being in the house for a few hours. That's it, I swear." The way May smiles, Kass almost believes her, especially when she continues, "As consolation for making you deal with my shenanigans, I will give you the first slice of my strawberry chocolate cake."

Kass frowns around the rim of his mug in speculation, and then mutters moodily, "...it better be a big slice."

As the day of the not-party draw nearer, things at 3, Tesla Drive get a little hectic as she cleans and prepares in between her shifts. On Tuesday, July third, May brings home a watermelon as wide as his ribcage, and uses up half of the counter space to slice it into small, sweet triangles. A couple go missing when she walks away for a moment to put her hair up, and if she notices she says nothing, because it's still enough watermelon to feed a small country. Kass watches her wrap the watermelon slices and slide them into the fridge underneath the vegetable tray.

She bakes the cake layers, and whips the cream, and sets them both in the fridge overnight, with the air of someone who's done this countless times before. Kass watches her work from the kitchen door frame then, and the morning after, where at 10 am she's already been up for two hours. Two hours, and she's already peeled and chopped potatoes and sliced strawberries.

She's at the counter, pouring lemon juice into a bowl, when Kass serves himself cereal. "Good morning," May says, distracted, moving to the sink when he nudges her aside to reach for the coffee. "Sorry I didn't make breakfast."

"Didn't expect you to," he replies, pouring the warm contents into his mug.

(The mug, part of a set, has a king chess piece on it. She'd bought it as a joke, and uses the queen mug personally.)

He eats at the table, which is still blessedly clear save for the bowl of sliced strawberries, while May finishes the guacamole and quickly cleans her knives. She's pulling the cooled cake out of the fridge when he asks, suddenly rather concerned, "This isn't a formal attire party, right? You aren't going to demand I wear a button up or anything bizarre?"

"In this weather? Course not. A clean shirt and a pair of pants would be nice," the girl says, matter-of-factly, pulling out the tub of frosting and popping off the lid. "Beyond that I leave it up to you. Could you pass me the strawberries?"

Upon being offered the bowl, May squints at it suspiciously.

"This bowl is lighter than it was when I put it on the table."

"No it's not," he says, convincingly.

There's a small groan, and then a sigh. She frosts one layer of the cake with a wide spatula, while Kass watches, leaning on the fridge quite helpfully.

"Hey asshole, get the strawberries out, I gotta cut more. Anyway," May continues, beginning to place slices onto the frosted center, "If you end up deciding you're sick of the company, by all means you're free to hide in your room. I won't pester you. I can't say the same for other people, though."

"I'll cross that bridge when I get to i-ow." Kass pulls his fingers back from the strawberry bowl. May waves the frosting spatula at him threateningly.

"You have had enough, sir. Let me finish."

He sticks his stung finger in his mouth, and grins around it at her like a leer. May begins to giggle.

"You are such a child, sometimes."

As noon approaches, they both shower, and she's still there when the doorbell rings, so Kass, against his better judgment, answers the door. "You knock, now?" he says with faux surprise, when Simon and Gunter cross the threshold.

"Hey, man, give me some credit, my hands are full," Simon jokes back, gesturing to the tray of popsicles in his hands. Gunter is holding a pie--apple, by the looks of it. "Is there space in your freezer for these? Don't want them to melt."

They follow him into the kitchen, and Kass takes the tray to slide it into the small freezer above the fridge. The popsicles look to be made of different kinds of fruit. He nearly claims one now, until he glances down and the penguin is staring at him, so instead, he closes the freezer door with a little huff. Fine. Later, then.

The fridge is running out of space, so the pie is left on the table. The lemonade sits in a tall pitcher, condensation forming at its sides, on the counter. Kass grabs one of May's nicer glasses that she's brought down for the occasion, pouring the cool drink and offering it silently to Gunter. The penguin looks surprised, but accepts it. It looks between him and Simon, and then states, a touch awkwardly, "I'm going to go set up the snacks in the living room."

Kass watches Simon somewhat warily, looking over the cleaned shirt and blue, star patterned bow tie. Simon deftly ignores him, pulling food out of the fridge to set onto the kitchen table. "Dang, that's the cake May made? It looks rad!"

Since the break-in visit Kass had been told about, Simon has been over several times. While Kass had initially regarded him with little more than suspicion and disdain, Simon had been unusually (to him at least) respectful of his personal space, physically and verbally. He'd seemed more interested in helping May cook, or bringing a movie to watch together.

They had had a conversation about O'Malley while playing Mario Kart on May's Wii, mildly terse while he had avoided red shells and banana peels. It had been somewhat brief--an admittance to the act, an open distaste for the damn dog, and Kass's attempt to generally wave the whole situation aside. It wasn't a perfect patch job, but it was better than nothing, he supposed, and Simon had been less pushy.

He'd been tolerable, while being himself, but it never quite took the edge off. It is, after all, Simon, do-good-be-good Simon. It's why Kass is immediately skeptical and squinting when Simon asks, "How've you been lately? You seem better."

His mouth is a thin line, but Simon's not looking as he reaches into the pantry and grabs the chip bag to dump into a bowl.

"Peachy. You wouldn't believe what not having an anxious brat following you around does for your nerves. Dib's not here too, which helps."

"Pfffbt." The boy (hardly a boy anymore, but he'll never be much else in Kass's eyes) pulls the plastic wrap off the guacamole, studying it curiously. When he looks up at Kass, his smile is undaunted by the jab. "Following you around in a different house would be way too much work, even for me. And anyway, May told me space would do you some good, so I've been nice."

He makes a harsh little "tch" noise with his tongue. "Of course, when the bird tells you, you listen. Nevermind I stated repeatedly for you to keep your shenanigans to yourself for months, then."

"You, sir, are a liar and a fiend, so I ignore what you say constantly. Half the time you're projecting anyway," Simon says, with a snicker, "and the other half, you're making really dated references that show how darn old you are."

"I am not old.”

"Okay, mister Mid Life Crisis. You're not old."

Kass mumbles something under his breath, nursing a second glass of lemonade. Simon blinks in his direction.

"I missed that. Say it again?"

With a little grimace, he repeats himself. "I said, we're still not friends. Don't expect me to come over and play. "

Simon rolls his eyes. "Whatever makes you feel good, dude. You're doing fine over here anyway, you've chilled out a lot."

"Yes, well, when I'm not constantly told to change my core person to fit a standard, I tend to thrive."

Simon sets the paper plates in his hand down, and looks at Kass. His expression is a hard one to fathom--the flesh of his cheek is pulled up, like a half grimace. With a little chuff, he pushes his glasses up his nose.

"You know what, you're right. I was pushing you really hard."

Wait, what?

This isn't a subject they've touched on for a while. Kass, more than anything, had meant it as a general rib, but the jab seems to have been more effective than he'd assumed. His surprise is evident, because Simon continues.

"I mean, I don't feel like I'm wrong, because I know you can be better than you let on--but!" He holds up a finger at Kass's little scowl. "I was pushing way too hard, at way too soon a time."

He sits in a chair at the table, gesturing, looking a touch sheepish. "I should have recognized way sooner that you were spiraling into a bad state. I won't get too weepy--I've apologized plenty of times about it and I know you're sick of it. My point, here, is, I never really looked at the situation from your point of view."

Kass watches warily, as Simon dips a chip into the guacamole, and sticks it into his mouth. He makes a pleasantly surprised sound, and swallows, then gestures again, a little shrug.

"I tried to get it, but it didn't really sink in until the whole, uh. The thing with Pickman. I didn't register how deep a level the Foundation stuff was ingrained into you. That's on me, and I'm sorry."

For a long minute, there is quiet. It's awkward, and uncertain.

Kass says, a little caught off guard, "We're starting this party off on a very low note, you know."

Simon snickers again.

"My bad. But I'm really glad you're starting to feel better. If there's anything I can do to help, let me know." He points at Kass sharply, squinting. "Illegal activity is out, though."

Kass finds himself very nearly smiling. "We'll see," he says.

"See wh--Simon, you blessed boy! You're early!" May's enthusiasm fills and controls a whole room, and she dives into Simon's arms when he stands. "You didn't have to come help!"

"Well," he says, seeming pleased, "I figured it'd take a load off your mind. Gunter and I brought some extra desserts."

When May pulls away, she examines the pie brightly. "Look, Kass, a cutie pie! And also, an apple pie."

"....May."

She can't help how her chest shakes from laughter. "That's it, I'm sorry. That's the only joke I'll make."

"It was so bad," Simon says, affronted.

"I'm sorry," she says again, though she doesn't seem very sorry. "I'm just so happy--You're here, and you look nice and I suddenly feel much, much less stupid about this whole thing."

It catches Kass a little off guard to hear that, because she hasn't seemed self conscious as she planned the party--a touch rushed, maybe.

Had he failed to notice, or had she just hidden it that well?

Simon grins at May as she touches his bow tie, the pair of them thick as thieves. "You look adorable and I hope you know it."

Though Kass will never admit it, Simon is right. May has chosen to leave her glasses off today, and her hair, still damp from her shower, is pulled back into tight pigtails. A blue ribbon peeks out behind the springing curls, loose by her neck, and her shirt has a feather pattern around the collar.

She's embraced the summer mood, it seems. Her face lights up from the compliment.

"Actually," she asks sheepishly, "could you give me a hand? I'm not very pleased with the ribbons and you could probably get a better angle than I could."

"Sure!"

Simon ushers May out the hall, to the bathroom. Kass slips past them into the living room. The penguin and a green little clone are setting the coffee table with food, neither of them looking up while he maneuvers to set up the Wii.

"Awfully considerate of you," it says from somewhere behind him. Kass checks the batteries of each spare remote, and then flicks through the disks, picking multiplayer games and setting them beside the console.

"If I have to tolerate this ridiculous backwards event, I might as well find ways to enjoy myself," he replies.

"Right," Gunter says. "Of course. That's all."

"That's all, Ducky."

The doorbell is well timed, and Kass stays put as it's opened by the bird. He half turns, watching Dib, already bright red from the heat, strip his trench coat off to hang on the door's coat peg.

"One hundred and three degrees," the boy mumbles. "One hundred and three stupid degrees. And everybody's barbecuing."

(His shirt is bright blue, and has a spiraling wind pattern. This is very ironic.)

"Need cold. Need fluids."

Dib makes his way into the kitchen, reappearing moment later with a cold glass pressed to his forehead. He drops heavily onto the couch, and finally seems to notice Kass, raising a hand in a half greeting. Kass raises his eyebrows, and then looks over the couch, and grins.

"Psst. Constant Vigilance."

"Nn," Dib says wearily. "What."

"Look."

Suspiciously, Dib looks behind the couch to the base of the stairs where Simon and May reappear to enter the kitchen. He gasps at the sight of the tiny springs at the base of her neck.

"Oh my goooooosh."

"I told you," Kass says, a touch smug.

"That's--That's so cute," Dib hisses back, grinning wide around the lip he is biting into. "That is so good."

"What are you two jerks snickering about," May asks as she sets the vegetable tray onto the coffee table.

"N-Nothing--" Dib says, at the exact moment Gunter says, "Kass pointed out your pigtails."

May peeps (god, it's brilliant when she does that), and then yells. "What is with you people and my hair!!"

Kass snickers and ducks the pillow chucked in his direction, tossing it back in Dib's direction.

When Simon and Gunter drop onto the couch, Kass tosses them each a controller and drops into his recliner, only half listening to the party, his hands behind his head.

Simon, to some degree, is right. He is more relaxed. This is his space, currently being invaded upon with his own permission. That's what he tells himself, at least, slitting one eye open to watch Simon hand Dib his ass in Super Smash Bros.

Four rounds later, Dib has won all of a single match, staunchly holding to playing Samus while Simon flicks through Pacman, Lil Mac, and Ness. Gunter has decided he has a very high interest in May's guacamole, and has helped himself to a good portion of the stuff, ignoring the cold cut sandwiches and veggie tray.

May's still not appeared to join them. When Kass stands and peeks into the kitchen, he finds her at the stove. The faerie queen is sitting on the edge of the counter by the window, the sunlight painting patterns on her wings. It's with a little grimace that Kass maneuvers around her to pour himself a glass of the lemonade, ignoring their conversation.

He catches sight of the stove--wait. May's making french fries. Unashamed, Kass sidles to her side and steals a couple finished ones on the plate.

"Stop stealing food," she mumbles with a little smile.

"Stop having friends that are all in my nightmares," he retorts, blowing on the fry and sticking it in his mouth. Ah, unsalted. Probably a batch for the faerie then.

"Sorry?"

It is, at this very moment, that the back door to the kitchen bangs open. All three inhabitants jump nearly a foot, and only two relax as the cause makes itself known.

"Sup?" The nightmare queen proclaims, posing dramatically in the door frame. "Y'all can relax now, I'm here. The party can finally start."

Kass attempts very hard to make himself invisible, and does not succeed, though the new guest ignores him to throw her arm around May's shoulders. He's not a fan in the slightest of the queen that visits from time to time―she looks like Sydney, but isn't Sydney, and she has a tendency to drip onto the sofa and make creepy faces at him without thinking about it. Certainly she's not threatened him, but he's seen her head come off at least once, and he's not interested in being within three feet of that.

"You are dressed all in black, how are you not dead from the heat," he hears May murmur with a smile in her voice.

"It's the aesthetic, man. Suffer for the look."

"I love you, dumbass."

He maneuvers away from all three queens--that's way too much power in one room for his comfort--at the same moment that Mab proclaims, "May, dear, you've hardly left the kitchen this entire time. This is your event, you should relax!"

"I'm almost done, alright? This is the last batch of fries, and then I gotta salt some of them and we'll be good to relax."

"You've made plenty, you've got to go join your own party! Nobody's going to starve, you've made sure of that," the queen coaxes. Kass watches, as he retreats with his glass, Mab and the other one--Queen Nothing? a stupid name, he can think of something better--usher the bird away from the stove. She resists only a little, snapping the stove dial off.

Kass stays on the peripherals of the scene when they finally drop her onto the edge of the couch. Slime princess drops onto the arm of the couch beside Simon, smiling in what she must imagine is a relaxed manner but really comes off with far too many teeth.

"This guacamole is fantastic, May, could I possibly bother you for the recipe?" Gunter asks, and true enough, the bowl is much emptier than it had been when Kass had left.

"I'll make a copy for you," she replies, hugging a pillow. "Pass me some snap peas?"

For a few long minutes, the party is absolutely wonderful, and loud, without him. He thinks, maybe, he'd like to creep off soon, but he doesn't, just standing at the base of the stairs watching the madness unfold.

What a strange bunch of characters. Of course they all found each other. Of course they all get along. Who else would have them?

Simon and Dib eventually hand the controllers to May and the ink hazard, who are both godawful at Mario Kart. It certainly doesn't stop them from trying, though eventually he does lose his patience at how badly his roommate is failing and snatch her roommate to shoot her to third place. She had fought him for it for just a moment before yielding, and he's suddenly back in the fray of this stupid event.

He soon finds out every queen is bad at Mario Kart, and really, that almost takes all the fun out of winning. Almost--not quite.

On the couch where he rests his elbows, Dib and Simon are having a conversation about the new Marvel movie, and the villain's absolute inane scheme.

"I mean, it's at least a better motivation, than say, universal conquest," Dib claims, "But dude! You're wearing a matter manipulator, and you're arguing there aren't enough resources? Make more!"

"Nobody's arguing his concept isn't super donked up," Simon counters, "but I'm not really sure he knows any better. Plus, can the gauntlet really make more matter?"

"Well by that argument, he could have turned a bunch of useless waste into more resources," is the very irritable retort.

"What the hell is even happening in these movies anymore," May adds, scoffing. "I never bothered watching Civil War and now there's an evil grape."

"You never watched Civil War? But that one's actually pretty good!"

"Dude. Age of Ultron suuuuuuucked. I got jaded. All I know is everybody's in Civil War and duking it out because Tony's doing some more shit no one agrees with because no one will get that man therapy."

An apt description, Kass thinks. Apparently, not enough one for Dib and Simon, who begin to explain.

"Well, it's more about this bill--"

"And there's a terrorist attack--"

"And it seems like Bucky did it but--"

"Jesus Christ," May says when they are finally done, her head in her hands. "That was almost as bad as What's Up Tiger Lilly."

Kass squints at his roommate at the same moment someone, he's not sure who, asks, "What's What's Up Tiger Lilly?"

"No," she says, muffled into her fingers. "I'm not telling you the What's Up Tiger Lilly story. You don't want that."

They all exchange looks, and then look expectantly back to her.

"Well, now you have to tell us. You can't tease us like this," Simon states.

"Pleeeeeease," adds the Void Girl, grinning wide and batting her eye at May in what she thinks is a pleading expression.

May's eyes narrow. She shakes her head once.

"I warned you."

She takes a large drink of her lemonade as everyone waits, the video game and snacks forgotten. He finds himself only vaguely intrigued, but more than anything he realizes, watching her eyes glittering, that she is basking in the attention.

Holy shit.

May's a storyteller.

"Now," she begins, "You have to understand this is not my story--I got this story from Ethan, who was my coworker at one of my old part time jobs. We worked at Jimmy John's. Now for those who haven't been to Jimmy John's, it's like Subway, but more mediocre. Subway, you have countless options to choose from, right? Jimmy John's, you have far fewer options, but you're gonna get your sandwich in about thirty seconds, so that's great I guess."

May puts her hands in the air in a shrug. "I'm sure this is a talent I'll eventually find useful in life, but so far I've come up dry. Thanks a bunch, Jimmy John."

"Anyway," she continues, "I got this story from Ethan, but this story didn't happen to Ethan. This story happened to his old friend Jake, while the both of them were in high school. Now, because basically none of you went to high school," (here, May squints around the room with a little crooked smirk), "high school is basically this place you go to spend four years learning nothing substantial and existing as a ball of anxiety pretty much the entire time. For, you know, eight hours almost every day."

She grins.

"So not at all a waste of time, right?"

Dib snorts. The queens nod sagely, though really, only one of them really knows what May's going on about.

"So Ethan and Jake went to high school together, and they were in movie club. Now, again, since almost none of you went to high school--clubs are a place in high school where you decide, 'I've only been here eight hours, that's not enough! I wanna be on my school campus some more.' Then you find some friends who like the same things as you do and also wanna be on campus for even longer."

May looks up at Kass with a bit of a wicked smile, one he's learned to be mildly concerned about. Very quickly, he learns the cause.

"Now, friends," (she turns and stares directly at the queen on the other end of the couch, who sheepishly shrinks into her shoulders), "are people who like your company. Usually, they will actively try to spend time with you! You may never be sure why, even though they claim it's because they think you're fun to be around. Or something."

Little monster. Kass flicks her ear, and she giggles, pushing his hand away. "Stop that, I'm telling a story."

"Anyway," May says again, forcefully, "You and your friends all find a thing you like to do, like, say for example, sports."

As if anyone in this room likes sports. Kass hides his smirk in his folded arms on the backboard of the couch.

"Sports," the bird adds helpfully, "are basically a stupid form of physical activity that require movement and sweat and usually sitting out in the sun! Crazy concept, right! The AC exists for a reason."

"May," Simon says, his hands folded in front of his face as though he is concentrating very hard. "Please."

She continues, undeterred. "There's usually grass and some kind of ball and I hope most of you know what a ball is, because I'm not going to explain that."

"May," Simon says, a little more forcefully.

"Please," Dib adds, a hint of desperation in his voice.

They're figuring out the scheme, slowly.

"Okay, we're getting off topic. So, Ethan and Jake are in a club, and they are in movie club. Movie club was this thing where Ethan and Jake and their friends would get together to watch a movie, and then discuss what happened in the movie, and subjects like the movie's themes. Now," May holds up a finger in an explanatory matter, "Themes are like, the meaning of the story, or what the story is trying to get across with its moral, and morals for those of you that don't have them," (she's grinning at Kass again), "are complex ideas about right and wrong."

She smooths her shirt down, and takes another sip of her lemonade. "They're usually widely debated by people who don't have any, and yet decide they're doing things like taking away people's rights out of 'moral obligation'. But I'm getting off topic."

This is the worst story ever. Holy shit. Already an air of distress is descending upon the guests.

"The theme of this story would probably be about the folly of man and the error of judging a book by its cover, or what have you," the bird says, nonchalantly. "Now, a book is like a movie, but instead of being told visually, the contents are shared through words, written on pages bound together, and usually reading is involved."

"MAY," Dib hisses, pained.

"No, no, this is important to the story, see, because because Ethan and Jake were in movie club, and it was Jake's turn to get a movie for the club. So he goes to the library. A library is a place that contains information in many books. But it also contains other forms of media like newspapers, which are real stories versus fictional ones. This is a real story by the way. No newspaper will publish it. I've tried."

Kass has to physically bury his head into the hard bend of the couch to keep from laughing. She's good at this, she's good at keeping this train wreck entertaining. She's a terrible little monster.

"Besides books and newspapers, you can also borrow things such as DVDs, and at this point a DVD is a somewhat dated sort of disk that--Dib no come back!!" May suddenly says as Dib stands, his hands in the air as though he can't take anymore. "This story has a great pay off come on man--thank you, as I was saying."

Dib crosses his arms. Kass reaches over the pokes him in the head. "You did ask for this."

"Don't touch me."

"Young man. Am I going to finish my story, or are you just going to keep interrupting me."

"I'm good. Keep going."

"Good boy," says the pleased bird. "Where was I. Hm, I can't quite remember--should I start over?"

"May!"

"Right, yes, a DVD is a dated sort of way to watch movies. So, Jake went to the library to borrow a movie, and he decided he was going to borrow the movie What's Up Tiger Lilly."

The room visibly relaxes with relief. Finally, they all seem to think. We're finally getting to the story.

Kass knows better. Kass hides his grin, watching the reactions carefully.

"Now, What's Up Tiger Lilly is a Woody Allen movie. It's some kind of kung fu movie he basically dubbed over with a completely different story," May explains, and then adds, her voice quirking up in pitch, "which I guess makes it very artistic?"

Mab nods, though she does look a touch confused, and the penguin says from the other side of the coffee table, "That is.... an apt explanation. Really, the only explanation needed so far."

"This is my story and I'll tell it how I like, thank you Gunter." Her tone is a touch affronted, though always, always laced with sarcasm.

"Apologies. Continue."

"So, Jake went back to movie club with What's Up Tiger Lilly, and he and his friends watched it. They enjoyed it!"

That wicked smile is back.

"Enjoyment is an emotion you feel, likely the very one you feel now as you listen to this wonderful story I'm telling you. I know you're enjoying it because you're my friends, and you like my company, and you like my stories."

"May," the ink girl says at the end of the couch. "Please. You care about me, right. Please stop this madness."

"So they watched this movie," May continues, undeterred, "and they experienced enjoyment, and they discussed it.

And time passed.

Now, seeing as not all of us conform to time's rules, time--"

Dib makes a strangled sort of noise, like a scream that got locked behind his tongue. Kass presses his forehead to his fist on the backboard. He cannot look.

"Time is a somewhat linear linear mostly wonked up passage of growth, usually noted in minutes, hours, and days. It's very convoluted and made up by humans because they apparently need more ways to stress themselves out, like being late to things. for example, you're probably thinking to yourself, the time you spend listening to me tell this story couldn't be spent in a better way at all, and it's going by so fast! I'm halfway through the story!!"

"May," Kass says, very evenly. "You are going to get thrown across the room."

"Explain throwing to me really quick?"

The flat stare he gives her is answer enough. The monster on the couch grins widely.

"Anyway. Time passed, and then, one year later--" (May holds up a finger) "--Jake went back to the library. A year is three hundred sixty-five days. This was probably a little more than that, but not by much. He went to the library, and he picked out some books to check out. I'm not sure what he checked out, maybe he decided it was time to reread Harry Potter but could only find a copy of book five, which is confirmed to be the most depressing, unenjoyable novel of the series."

Kass watches Simon's expression very carefully, noting the tight-eyed squint. Simon does not rise to the bait.

"Maybe he was doing a book report, because at this point people still went to libraries to get information out of books, a method so dated and untrustworthy nowadays that those poor libraries should really do something with all those dated encyclopedias."

Now Simon does open his mouth, visibly irritated. May is grinning right at the boy, obviously goading. He barely gets a word out.

"Do not--"

"An encyclopedia!" she interrupts loudly, "Is a book with information on every possible subject known to man!"

"May--"

"They usually come in collections! But none of that matters. What matters is Jake went and grabbed some books he decided to check out."

Simon gives up, shaking his head impatiently at the couch cushions.

"He brought his books to the counter, and he said hello to the librarian. The librarian was a woman--Ah, wait, I should clarify--"

The room bursts into an uproar along the lines of "we know what a woman is--"

"A LIBRARIAN is a person who works in a library."

Kass can't hold it back anymore--he's wheezing into the back of the sofa pathetically. Fuck, she's horrible. Dib is visibly getting irritated, and Mab looks to be getting there. The noise only dies when May says, "Can I finish my story, or will I need to start over?”

Reluctantly, the party goes quiet again. May nods.

"Thank you. As I was saying. The librarian was a woman, and Jake went up to the checkout desk. Jake said 'hello!' The librarian said 'hi!' Jake said, 'I would like the check out these books!'

The librarian said, 'okay, let me see your library card'. And she scanned it, and she looked at the computer. And she went, 'hmm.'"

May puts her hand on her chin in mock contemplation for a moment, acting it out. Everyone seems to be holding their breath, afraid to interrupt when actual progress is happening.

"'What is it?' Jake said.

'It says here that you checked out What's Up Tiger Lilly, and never returned it,' the librarian said.

'Oh,' said Jake.

'Yes, it says here you have a fine of eleven dollars and twenty cents. You can't check out any more library books until you pay the fine.'

And Jake said, 'oh,' again.

The librarian said, 'Do you want to pay the fine?'"

May steeples her fingers. She smiles sweetly.

"And Jake said, no."

There is a pause. Several long beats pass.

May says nothing more. She continues to smile.

"Are you," Dib finally says. "Are you actually--That's IT?"

She looks like the cat that got both the cream and the canary. Kass begins to snigger into the sofa again.

"This is so stupid! That was the stupidest--Why did you--aaaagh."

Simon's face is distorted, a mix between amused and horrified at himself. "The punchline," he says slowly, "is that he wouldn't pay a library fine?"

"Yes."

"....This is a bad story."

"Aw."

The queens both look a level of distressed, though in different ways. While the eldritch horror seems, for lack of a better phrase, split down the middle between laughing and committing a murder, Mab is staring at May, her eyebrows creased. Kass realizes, exactly, what's about to happen, at the exact moment Mab says, "I don't understand."

"Oh no!" May says, holding back a cackle. "Mab didn't get it guys, I gotta do it over again and explain it better this tim--"

"NO!"

The chorus rings throughout the room sharply. Kass can feel May's wide smile from behind his hand, firmly clasped over her mouth. She's visibly shaking with giggles--he's not doing too much better.

She wasted a good half hour of their time, like this, he realizes when he glances at the clock. She had managed to get them to sit and listen to her say nothing of consequence for a full half hour. The nerve of her is something to be applauded.

At her gentle tap against the back of his hand, Kass removes his fingers. The bird looks smug, smiling at her guests who are coming down from their rages. Dib has picked the game controller back up, very determined to not look at his host.

“That was mean,” Gunter says, looking rather amused in retrospect. “That was absolutely terrible.”

“What, you people think I'm nice?” comes the reply, followed with a shrug. “Honestly, it's like you don't even know me!”

“You're wicked,” Mab says, finally smiling. “You'd give the fae a run for their money.”

May seems far too pleased with herself at that. She sits back against the couch, sipping her lemonade pleasantly.

“I once heard an hour long rendition of that story. I'm still improving at it, to be honest! But now,” she adds, grinning dangerously, “You can share it with your friends!”

When cake is served, May is good on her word. She gives Kass a large slice, refills his lemonade glass, and waves him away as he escapes back up the stairs to his bedroom. It's a cool, dark space, and he lights a quick smoke, something he'd avoided doing down with the guests.

While it is not a bad party, by any means, he has had his fill, he thinks. For now, he wants some time to himself.

With time, he hears the party become quieter. The afternoon slips into early evening, the shadows only barely longer. He wakes from a nap to a quiet house, a murmur of sound the only hint that it is not entirely empty.

He stands and stretches, feeling the vertebrae of his back click softly. It's almost seven when he gathers his dishes and exits his room. What are the chances there's still cake, or a slice of pie?

Kass is at the foot of the stairs when he stops.

He hears―rather, he overhears―in the kitchen―

“―we please drop this? Just today? I―today was a good day, dude, can't we just bask in it without talking about this again?”

“I'm sorry, May, I'm just―I gotta make sure! You know I can't just let it go―this is Kass we're talking about.”

It doesn't take a genius to know that's Dib. May, on her part, sounds agitated, moving around the kitchen, running the sink. Kass can picture it, can picture the little impatient steps and how things knock about when she accidentally swats them while reaching for things. That just makes her angrier.

“Why? Why is it such a big deal to you? I thought you didn't care anymore, you were fine when the man went missing. It was like you didn't even notice.”

“It's―It's not that I didn't care, I just―I didn't want to waste energy on trying to find a guy that doesn't want to be found. I do care! I'm going to care, and I'm going to worry and be suspicious!”

“Why can't you let it go?”

“Because!” Dib seems to snap harshly, before he stops, as though catching himself. When he speaks again, it's in a lower volume, and more controlled.

“This is Kass. This is the guy who lied to me for months, and was a huge jerk to me and my friends for years, and that was before he got stuck in my garage. You know how many times he's thrown me under the bus―you have to understand. I'm going to be a bit hyper-vigilant! I'm going to worry!”

This isn't the first conversation Kass has overheard about himself. He's spent long enough in 1, Tesla Drive, and in Site 17, and many other places, to hear numerous insults about his person. It, for the most part, doesn't bother him, so much as it annoys him that people have really nothing better to talk about.

What Kass is surprised to find unpleasant is the idea of May talking about him. Of course she does, he know logically she'd talk about him while he's not around, but there's something so possibly two-faced about it.

He hears her small huff.

“I get that―and it's fine to be nervous, okay? It's fine to not trust him, that's not what I'm saying. But that's not what you're doing. What you're doing is questioning my choices. My judgment. You still have this idea that I need protecting, but I don't. I'm not telling you to get over it and be his friend, I'm not an idiot. But, Christ, Dib, I expect you to trust my decisions.”

"But I'm worried about you. I know you said you could handle him but he's just a lot to deal with. Plus," Dib says with a little sniff. "You shouldn't have to deal with someone like that on a daily basis. You don't deserve that."

"Okay,” she says after a beat, her tone sharp and irritated, “First off. I'm not handling him. Kass is not some kind of wild animal I'm trying to tame. Secondly, I'm much more capable than you give me credit for. I'm in charge of an entire species, most of which don't like me. I work retail. You think I can't deal with a little bit of criticism and insults? You think I can't deal with a bad attitude from time to time?"

There's a moment of quiet, filled with nothing but the clatter of dishes and the running water.

"....I didn't know that. They don't like you?"

"Not the point, here, hon. My point is, look. This isn't something you need to worry about. You don't need to worry about me, and you don't need to trust him. You need to trust me. You need to trust that I can take care of myself, and that I can manage living with him. And I'm getting really sick of having to defend my friendship, dude. We're adults, we should be past this."

Oh, she shouldn't have said that. She shouldn't have, that opens such a gaping wound, that--

"Wait, Kass is your friend?"

"Oh, here we go." The dishes clatter loudly.

"Kass doesn't have friends, May."

"Don't start with me, Dib.”

"No, seriously! Simon tried for months to convince the guy! You know what it resulted in? It resulted in sharpie on his forehead and honey stuck in places there shouldn't be honey! Kass doesn't have friends, he refuses to even fake it, and maybe Frank's an exception, but I don't think Frank's picky--"

"Ow! Fuck!"

Kass stiffens at the little swear. Dib stops talking―the water stops running.

"What happened?"

"Cake knife got me. No―don't go anywhere, I'm fine."

“You want me to go grab a band-aid?”

"No, no. It's healing up already, see?"

"Nn. You're sure?"

"I'm good, hon. Just tired. Can we―can we please drop this subject?"

"Nnn,” Dib says, clearly not ready to drop this subject, “can I just say one more thing?"

May doesn't respond, so Dib continues, undeterred.

“I just think, of all of us, you're the one that needs to be the most worried about Kass causing issues. Simon and I know what he's like, and the kind of under the table stuff he's pulled. You―you haven't been around him as long as we have, and you always see the best in people. But―he needs a closer eye on him. If something happens--if he gets picked up by the Foundation, he's going to sell us all out if he thinks it even has a chance of saving his skin.”

“I―“

“Please let me finish. He'll sell us out and that includes you. I know we can handle it, we can figure something out, we always do, but if something goes wrong―May, when I told them about what ZiM's PAK could do they completely disabled it, with no way for him to get out. They'll keep you under the tightest lock and key. They'll shove you into the tiniest cell and poke and prod at you until they know every little thing you can do and then they'll leave you there.”

Dib's voice, his cadence, is painfully sincere. Maybe a touch raw. Maybe he's faking the depth of his worry, playing it up to make her listen―he's done it in the past. Still, he speaks with more familiarity than he seems to want to.

“You need to be careful about what you say to him and what you tell him. I don't want you to get hurt.”

There's a silence. It's heavy and stifling, and then May says in a low, dark voice, “I don't―you know what? I can't deal with this right now. I have to go clear the living room―I'll be back in a minute.”

Oh, shit.

Before Kass can slink away from the wall beside the door frame, she stomps out through it and nearly barrels right into him. They stare at each other a moment, exchanging no words.

She looks... angry. He thought he'd seen her angry before, but he's never seen this; her eyes are slits, her shoulders tense and up to her ears. The air around her seems boiling hot with barely-contained rage, the curls of her pigtails loose and framing her face unevenly.

May looks him in the eye, and then grits her teeth, looking away and moving around him without so much as a word. Kass watches her storm into the living room, gathering paper plates and used napkins. Her motions are jarring, forced and rushed.

This is held-back anger―not the snappish tones she's shot his way when he's opened his mouth too much, not the tense way her fingers push her hair back from her face when she's got four and a half things all happening at once. She cleans when she's angry. She channels it everywhere but where it should go.

And that's―

That's such bullshit, Kass finds. It's not the particular speech Dib's given May that gets under his skin, but the pretentiousness of it all. He's done that thing he and Simon and Mab always seem to do. They stick their noses into other people's business. They insert their own opinion into a subject that has nothing to do with them.

They've done it with Kass for years now. He understands why, to some extent. He hates it, but he thought he understood why―he had thought the distrust was always behind it. He'd figured it was the way Dib needed to make sure he didn't throw them all under the bus again.

But, apparently, it's just the kind of shitty, awful, bratty child that Dib is; so much so that he does this sort of thing to his supposed friends too. He can't seem to help himself―he's too full of himself and too stuck on his high horse. The stupid kid still thinks he's the smartest person in the room. He's sixteen and he thinks he knows better than full-blown adults.

Kass wipes away the snarl that's been growing on his face, and forces his eyes away from the girl's turned back. He slips into the kitchen, where Dib is standing awkwardly in front of the sink, fidgeting with a towel he'd been drying dishes with.

Dib looks, more than anything, startled, and for once, uncertain. His eyes had locked onto the door frame, as though waiting for May to return, but upon seeing Kass, his expression slides directly back into distrust and disinterest, eyes lidded and squinty.

“Hi.”

“How's it going, Lightning Bolt,” Kass says, flatly, without interest.

“It's.... going.”

“Where's the barefoot wonder?” he asks hollowly, checking the fridge's leftovers. No good―he's lost his interest in anything sweet, from the bitter taste in his mouth. “Already gone home to candy land?”

He can feel Dib's eyes on his neck as he turns his back. He has not missed this feeling in the slightest.

“Simon went to grab some snacks from Uuu. He and I are going to take the Voot to watch the fireworks from bird's eye view.”

“Interesting,” he responds, moving to the sink. It's not interesting, really. “So it's just you then?”

He's in Dib's bubble, and it's obvious the teen is tense, but all Kass does is rinse his plate and glass. He leaves them in the sink, eyes on his own hands.

He grabs a clean glass from the dry pile. “You're leaving ET on its own tonight of all nights? You find that wise?”

“ZiM is fine,” Dib says, a touch sharply. “He's used to loud explosions.”

“Of course. War species.”

There's a heavy pause. Kass fills the glass with ice cubes. Clink. Clink.

“How, um,” he hears Dib start, haltingly, “How are you doing?”

"I'm fine,” Kass says, his voice upturning into sweet saccharine sarcasm. “I'm just dandy, not being in your presence 24/7 does wonders for my complexion."

A glance up confirms the expected scowl, which he feels no need to respond to. His own expression, carefully controlled, is neutral.

No matter Dib's feelings towards him, be they disinterest, disgust, or suspicion―that distinct mutual feeling of dislike that had manifested early between them is not going anywhere any time soon.

Kass smiles, suddenly, a wide and rather cold smile. He smiles like a wolf looking at a little girl in a bright red hood would smile.

“But here's a fun fact for you to ruminate on, dear old Dib. Let's say, for sake of argument, I wasn't doing as spectacular as I am doing. It, fascinatingly enough, would be entirely none of your business. Isn't that interesting?"

His smile remains, though he looks away from the boy hovering near him to pour a fresh serving of lemonade into the glass.

“I--”

"Here are the facts,” Kass says, holding a finger up, “I'm not your responsibility anymore, Dibromoethane. Your opinion on my status is moot and unnecessary. Lemonade?"

Dib's eyes flick between Kass and the glass in his hand. His expression is twisted when he says, hesitant, “Uh. Sure?”

"Tough tits,” the man replies, walking away, “Serve yourself. Keep your nose out of my roommate's hair about my status."

When Kass returns to the living room, May is pacing along the length of the couch. Her hands are full of used napkins, which she nearly seems to be wringing, crumbling them into tight balls. She barely looks up at him when he approaches, but her pacing stops when he enters her personal space.

“It's hot enough out without you working up your feathers, birdy. Drink.”

He offers the lemonade, but the bird shakes her head. “No, no, I have to finish cleaning. It's gotta get done.”

Kass tsks lightly. “It'll still be there when you've calmed down,” he starts, his mouth on the next syllable before it gets stuck in his throat at expression of absolute rage that paints May's face.

“That's the problem! It needs to get done or it'll just stay a mess, regardless of whether or not I'm angry! Jesus Christ, am I actually saying words out loud? I'm actually audibly speaking, right? I'm not just making random noises with my mouth like some handicapped old person?”

Holy shit―she's seriously upset. May's eyes are lit up, molten gold. Kass takes a step back; she notices, and deflates nearly immediately. She presses her hands to her face to stifle a noise that sounds suspiciously like a scream.

“You―he―mmmmgh how many times, how many fucking times do I have to say something for people to hear me? Fuck me, why the fuck don't people listen when I talk?”

Her hands have buried into her pulled back hair, the pigtails coming loose and the dirty napkins still balled up in her fist. Carefully, as though defusing a bomb or trying not to startle a lion, Kass sets the glass down onto the coffee table and extracts her fingers from her hair. He uncurls them, one by one.

“You're letting this get to you far more than you need to, you need to take a breath.”

“Fuck you, don't tell me what to do. I'm an angry bitch and you shouldn't touch me.”

“Look, princess, don't get snappy at me, I was well-behaved today,” Kass says sharply, unfurling the fist with the napkins and taking them from her. “Rudeness is unbecoming of royalty.”

“Fuck,” she says again, and deflates once more. “I'm sorry, Christ, you shouldn't―you don't need to deal with this shit, but I'm just so sick to death of it.”

She stares at her hand, curling and uncurling the fist, her mouth a thin sharp line.

“Everyone's always fucking acting like they're waiting for the other damn shoe to drop. Like―Like, I'm fucking naive to how awful you can be, have been. And when I finally realize, oh no, he's just the worst, I'll be crushed!”

May looks up at Kass, brows furrowed and jaw taut. “I'm not a fucking baby! I don't need people to take care of me!”

“Keep your voice down,” he hisses, to no avail. She's nearly shouting.

“Like I don't fucking know most of the awful shit you pulled? Like I don't know about when you dislocated Dib's shoulder, or lied to him for months, or sold the kids out to the Foundation, or the thing with O'Malley? Or any of the other terrible things you've done? I fucking know, Kass! These aren't secrets, unfortunately!”

She surprises him―she laughs, bubbling with anger. “But they're not my grudges to hold! Most of this shit is ancient fucking history, and I wasn't there! I have no right to be pissy at you for any of it! And somehow, some-fucking-how, because I don't treat you like roadkill, it means I don't know you're a jerk.”

Here, May's pitch rises into the dramatics, into mockery. Her hands press to her cheeks to add to the theatrics, eyes wide and childlike. “Nooooo, I need to be protected! I need to be warned about the Big, Bad, Kaaaaaass. Fuuuuuck.” This last word is her normal pitch, pouring with exasperation. She presses her fingers into her eyes, groaning.

“You're the fucking same, you know that?” she concludes. “You and him and so many stupid humans―you think you need to teach the softhearted that the world is so much worse than they act like it is. I hate it so much.”

And May is softhearted, that much is true. Kass has lived in this house with her for maybe half a year now, and he knows this much. She is, above all things, kind and optimistic, while simultaneously sarcastic and smug and a small jokester.

Her interactions with him have forced Kass to try to come to terms with the idea that being soft is not nearly the same thing as being weak.

May is quiet for a long, long minute. Kass listens to her inhale deeply, and exhale slowly. He lifts his hand and places it on the crown of her head―it's the closest he can get to a conciliatory gesture. It works―the tension in her shoulders drops, and she inhales another shuddery breath.

“Nn. Fuck. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have snapped so hard. It―it's not okay, and it's not your fault. None of this is your fault,” May adds, pulling her hands from her face, “You were just.... there to take the brunt of it. I'm sorry.”

While mostly caught off guard, Kass can't exactly say his feelings are hurt. Certainly, he doesn't like being assaulted with the fact that most of his dirty laundry has been hung out for curious eyes, and her outburst is certainly a new side to her that's set him on edge, but she's not exactly the most threatening form.

He supposes he's a bit ruffled by the idea that he and Dib have anything in common. Oh, certainly, he'd compared the pair of them before. He'd believed (and he still does to some level, what with being a cynic) Dib would realize how hard the real world was, and would become cold like Kass had to survive it. He'd believed there was no other real way to deal with the harshness―this isn't a kid's show, after all.

But the idea that Dib would do anything Kass might do? The idea he would actually buy into Kass's mindset about the world? Well, that is just about unthinkable, these days, especially with the company he keeps.

They're nothing alike, he tells himself. She's just angry.

“I think I'll survive the sudden shock, tweety bird,” Kass finally says, waving off the apology. Again, he tries to offer the glass, and May accepts it now, pressing the cool condensing side to her cheek. She turns, her brows pinching upward. Already she's got that guilty look he's grown familiar with―she makes it almost immediately after she snaps at him.

“I should go talk to him,” she says, weakly. “I just stormed out in a huff.”

“Give it another minute,” Kass replies, patting her upper arm. “He deserves to feel like shit for a bit longer, don't you think?”

May chuffs, looking up at him. She very nearly smiles, and she looks exhausted. The host has had a long day.

“I'm, um,” she starts, “I'm sorry about this. Again. Um. Was―Was everything okay on your end? I know this isn't really... your cup of tea.”

“I've been to worse.” His mouth is a crooked line, close enough for her to recognize as a smile. “I don't really think I'll ever be at ease in the company of a bunch of monsters, unfortunately.”

She nods, biting her lip. “Yeah. Yeah, sorry. I forget, sometimes, that you can't really.... turn that off.”

Another inhale, and exhale. Kass pulls his hand back, sticking them both into his pockets. “I'm going to hole up for a bit―I'll come back out before the fireworks. Will you, er, will you be able to manage until then?”

“Yeah,” May says weakly. “Cleanup's almost done. I think I need some alone time, too.”

“Right. I'll see you in a bit.”

“Kass?”

Her smile is weak, a little pained.

“Thank you.”

“...yeah.”

Kass returns to his room. He watches the street from his window, leaving it open to smoke. After a few minutes, he can see the signature lightning bolt as the miniature form of Dib exits the house through the front door, his trench coat blowing back behind him.

Dib turns back to the house and looks up. He squints at Kass's window. Kass closes the blinds.

At every turn, May has defended him. She has repeatedly kept Simon, and Dib, from sticking their noses too deeply into his business. She has gone on the record to say she enjoys his company.

Hell, she got mad at her golden boy over Kass. It's no secret how much May adores Dib, doting on him like a mom friend, and she put that aside to defend Kass's privacy―from the sound of it, multiple times.

He doesn't understand it. She certainly could do better in the way of friends―the girl is a friendly person who manages to get along with most people. Christ, more than that, she deserves better than a drunk, depressed, cynical ex-agent who can count the number of kind deeds he's ever done on his fingers, and still have some to spare.

Christ. She's so painfully loyal.

It's sinking in, more and more. Kass can be... safe, here. He's not convinced that physically he's in the clear, the Foundation looms over him still. Yet the other factors―the itching paranoia, the watchful eyes. The disgust, and the insults. The adventures. He is safe from them. They are things he can choose to stay away from. He's not forced into them by being adjacent to them.

Safe. It's a word that doesn't really fit right in his mouth. He wonders if he'll ever adjust to it.

The shadows are lengthening when Kass creeps out his bedroom. Purple twilight fills the sky, the sun already nearly below the horizon. May is on the roof, staring hard in its direction, drawing with what little light is left.

"That's going to fuck up your eyes, you know."

"They'll just fix themselves," she shoots back, not bothering to look back at him as he approaches. "I wanted to get the cityscape."

Kass sits next to her, his feet hanging over the ledge. She shows him the sketchbook, the crosshatched silhouette of the distant buildings. It's not half bad.

"You patch things up with Constant Vigilance over there?"

"I think so. I actually think I scared him a little bit? He's never really seen me get mad, at him or anybody. I think he's surprised it was at him first."

Kass sniggers. “The little prick had it coming."

"Hush,” she says, with no force behind it.

"I have the right to be vindictive, he was talking smack about yours truly."

"Talking..... smack."

"Technically,” he says, grinning, “the phrase was accurately used."

There is a pause, and then a weary sigh. "Never say that again. Please."

Quiet fills the cool evening air. The sky begins to light up, like artificial stars of a thousand colors. After a little time, the sketchbook is set aside.

"This is a stupid holiday,” Kass says. Just to state the obvious.

"Yeah, I know. But the fireworks are nice."

"Did you bring at least bring gunpowder poppers?”

"No? I know your track record with fire, sir."

"You're no fun."

On the other side of the street, and the street behind them, the air is loud, filled with little bangs and pops and children's screams.

“I'm sorry about what Dib said. I―I'm not going to invade your privacy, that's not fair to you.”

“Don't apologize, birdy. It's his shit to get over, not your problem.”

“But―it's not fair. I can't make him stop. I've tried.”

“I don't expect you to get him to stop. The day the kiddiewink stops squinting at me like I'm going to suddenly spawn cockroaches from every orifice, I'll know he's lost his mind.”

May bites her lip to hide her smile. “You're not mad?”

“Woe is me,” Kass responds flatly. “Dib doesn't trust me and he thinks I'm a handful. I'll never recover from the shame.”

“You are a handful,” she snickers. “Pfft. You're wonderful.”

It always catches him a little off guard when she says that. Even when she insults him, it's with the same cadence of quietly pleased. It's nice.

The air's not very quiet, really. In the distance, there are police sirens. There's the small popping noises, and the distant booms of the fireworks. But they are quiet, watching the world from what seems like many miles away. Miles from the chaos. It is calm, here.

Up until the moment that the backyard of 1, Tesla Drive, is filled with an explosion to rival the fireworks, filling the much closer area with noise and light, and quite possibly fire. In the noise, a familiar wild cackle is heard, loud and maniacal.

The pair on the roof next door have curled away from the sudden heat. They blink at the house, and then each other, as bits of ash and still-burning paper drift through the air. May begins to giggle nervously.

“Let's, uh, let's go back inside."

"Let's."

#birdy blogging #may writes #GOD is this a WALL

22 notes · View notes

mikhalsarah · 4 years

Text

Why I don’t need Feminism

I really like hiking. Today’s “short” hike with my hiking and camping buddy turned into a 4.5 hour loop along the Bruce Trail that involved crossing three town boundaries and as many waterfalls. Clearly we are a bad influence on each other. Do you want to do just do this little bit more before we turn back? Sure, we could do that...

The plan today was, however, for me to invite said friend along on a “waterwalk” hike around the Bay that I found on Facebook. It seemed like a nice Thanksgiving thing to do...be thankful for water, and beautiful local places, contemplate the tragic pollution of said waters and network with others looking to make a difference and we hadn’t hiked those trails together yet. So, I hit the interested button. For two weeks I then received updates from the event.

Not one of the updates suggested there was a “religious” dimension to this hike.

And then suddenly the evening before the hike comes the instructions. “Bring tobacco for an offering” and “People who identify as female please wear skirts.”

I’m not even going to get into the tobacco and where I’m supposed to get that at the last minute without going to a corner store and buying monoculture-farmed-stuffed-chock-full-of-pesticides-and-laced-with-arsenic crap cigarettes sold by giant corporations that don’t give a fuck about the health of humans or the environment....which would really seem to defeat the purpose of a valuable thank-you gift to offer to Nature.

No, I’m going to rant about the latter instruction. I had no need to go to a store last minute and buy a skirt. I already own several skirts. I like skirts, especially in the hot summer.....but I don’t necessarily feel SAFE in skirts, or treated well.

I don’t feel safe because the last time I was raped, I was wearing a long skirt.

I don’t feel safe because the last time I was sexually harassed at work I was wearing a long skirt.

I don’t feel safe because a skirt, especially a long one, hampers my ability to move quickly at need, or run, without risking falling. I certainly could not even remotely defend myself in a skirt, in the event I should ever be attacked.

I have frequently been treated in a dehumanizing and patronizing manner. as child-like, ignorant, incompetent and stupid, while wearing skirts and dresses, and can’t think of any time I’ve been treated like that while wearing pants.

Therefore I am very choosy about who I wear a skirt around at the best of times. Only people I believe to be of high morals and ethics and respectful get that privilege. Given how the Left has treated me as a woman, any event organized by or appealing to Leftists is somewhat suspect in its personal skirt friendliness.

Oh, and I also suffer from migraine-related vertigo/dizziness, which can strike at any moment, without warning. I was hit by a bout during today’s hike on a particularly vertical bit of Bruce Trail. Fortunately I was wearing proper hiking boots, stretchy yoga pants and merely a slightly longish sweater for modesty, because what sort of lunatic wears a tea-length skirt on a hike?!!!

The bayside trails aren’t as steep, but there are plenty of hills, slippery bits and muddy portions (it rained yesterday), as well as fallen logs, sharp rocks and brambles to catch excessively flowing garments on, which pose a tripping risk.

And why were “those identifying as women” supposed to put themselves at risk of tripping like this? Because this ”hike” is apparently an Indigenous ceremony which women need to be “respectful” about by covering their bodies. The same female bodies the Creator was not too ashamed of to create. Men, seemingly, do not need to be respectful. They can show up in their grungy old jeans, with their Merrills caked in mud, and T-shirts with inappropriate cartoons. But heaven forbid a woman show up in attire appropriate for hiking.

According to the modern Left, we women need to be “tolerant” of the cultural practices of others....apparently even if those cultural practices break our ankles or worse. Isn’t it convenient how all these cultural practices we have to tolerate only ever inconvenience and put women at risk, and never men? I suspect that if they impacted Liberal and Leftist men even a smidgen as much, all talk of “tolerance” would be yeeted out the window at lightning speed to be replaced instantly with talk of the need to make principled stands on issues.

And laughably, even as indigenous people are speedily “decolonizing” themselves from the god-awful alien Western philosophy that is Feminism, they are as equally quickly adopting the discourse of Trans activists. Is that not equally alien and Western? And the fact that “skirt shaming” is now an ongoing event in Indigenous communities at religious ceremonies when they supposedly value non-interference and respect? How much do you want to bet that traces back not to any true Indigenous values, but to the alien, Western philosophies of Christianity and Victorian prudery that were forced upon them? No rush to “decolonize” that either, I see.

In fact, as far as I can tell, Feminism is the ONLY Western philosophy they’re in an all-fired rush to jettison out the nearest airlock. Clearly Feminism rustles the jimmies of somebody who currently holds power in Indigenous communities in a way nothing else does. So much for all the crap online about how the Haudenausee were doing Feminism so much better before the white man came and so don’t need it....cause they’re sure as fuck not doing it now. Well, we can just add them to the ever-growing list of religions/philosophies that have sold me a bad bill of goods on that account.

But it’s also now lied to me about valuing personal choice in spirituality and non-interference in other peoples lives... posing a religious ceremony as a public nature walk and then foisting your religious rules and gender roles on unsuspecting potential participants at the last moment does NOT, in my book, constitute respecting personal choices or non-interference. It smacks of the sneakiness, manipulativeness and coercion I have sadly come to expect from religion, most notably from so-called “liberal” religions. At least when I studied with the ultra-Orthodox they were totally upfront about who they were...and ALSO told me that they didn’t expect me to follow all their rules about tzniut (modesty), just to be generally respectful and modest. Because I was a respectful adult who was CHOOSING to study with them, I did my best to fit in. They didn’t surprise me or blindside me, nor did they put me in awkward situations, because it is a mitzvah not to embarrass anyone publicly, or put them in a situation where it’s likely to happen (putting a stumblingblock before them). Ditto for when I decided to go to Jumaah prayers at a local mosque to show support for them in the wake of someone trying to burn it down earlier in the week. I educated myself on the protocols and upheld them when I entered THEIR personal prayer space.

At that is the issue here. Indigenous women don’t need me to rescue them, they seem to be doing a fine job of speaking up on their own within their culture, and even if they weren’t, and were all totally great with the status quo, the issue is that I wasn’t given the heads up from go about the situation. And I most certainly don’t have to tolerate THAT, or listen to idiot liberals who are effectively anti-feminist and anti-woman tell me I need to be tolerant of it. If you want to have a Native ceremony, then go have a Native ceremony, just don’t hide what it really is and invite boatloads of non-Native people to it on Facebook and then suddenly spring your religious rules on them knowing full-well that some non-Natives will find being asked to follow them awkward or offensive to their strongly held beliefs. I’d be right pissed off as a Jew (bad Jew that I currently am) if I were invited to a dinner party and accepted only to be told the day before that I was expected to be “respectful” and recite the Lord’s Prayer or a Christian Grace over a ham supper with everyone. I’d be even more livid if other Jews were telling me I needed to be more “tolerant” about this sort of thing and not be disrespectful or Christophobic. I wasn’t CHOOSING to come to an Indigenous religious ritual that day, I was choosing to go on what was presented to me as a hike at which all were welcome. Very different situations.

Currently in our society we’re rushing to accomodate the rights of those with XY chromosomes to take up the social role and clothing of women, even as our society is still literally FORCING and COERCING people with XX chromosomes to injure their feet, legs and backs with high heels and to participate in torturing small animals like rabbits and beagles by wearing make-up (or spend even more outrageous sums purchasing make-up not tested on animals), which are frankly among the least of the indignities foisted on women. People are bending over backwards to give “choice” and “respect” to one group while ignoring, downplaying and minimizing the way choice and respect are being denied to others. Even people who are devout or convert to Christianity (today) generally understand why people who were forcibly converted in days of yore might have been less than enthusiastic about it.

The little things they always hang around The little things they try to break me down The little things they just won't go away The little things made me who I am today -Good Charlotte, “Little Things”

Men get their own share of shit foisted on them which they shouldn’t get, and there are certainly worse things to have going on in one’s day than the first world problems of the right to wear appropriate hiking attire (as I well know since many of them have happened to me personally), but it would be right fucking nice if from time to time a woman is allowed a rant about the things which plague her without being handed a laundry list of other people/groups’s troubles that require her to sit down, shut up, and put others first as she was so carefully socialized to do. Sometimes, as Good Charlotte sang, it is the neverending parade of “little things”, of living “inside a system of humiliation from which there is no escape” that break you down and make you who you are, more so than the much rarer traumatic things, which are a good deal less rare than one might wish. After 50 years it’s like Chinese Water Torture, every drop is small but eventually the constant drumming on the nerves becomes intolerable.

This is the “tyranny of tolerance” under which women are raised from the day they draw breath and someone “assigns” them to the female gender....as ridiculous a phrase as I have ever been forced to endure. I don’t “identify as female” any more than I walk around “identifying” as brown-eyed, or “identifying” as 168 cm tall. I was not “assigned” to being female at random in some sort of perinatal gender lottery. I have two X chromosomes and my vulva developed normally, as a result my sex was OBSERVED and correctly noted at my birth. What I was assigned to was a gender ROLE.

But as others before me have pointed out, if women’s gender ROLES were identical to the natural gender expressions of women, why do so many societies have to spend so much time and energy violently enforcing them? Or guilting and coercing women into them. I had a dog years ago. I never had to train him to be a dog and do naturally doggish things. What I DID have to spend time training him to do was things that are NOT natural for dogs to do....walk on a leash, sit and stay on command, don’t growl at me when I sit on the couch beside you because that’s shared territory and if you want to be alone you have a crate with a mattress that’s more bloody plush than mine so go lie there. If it were natural for women to smile constantly like Walmart greeters or people who’ve dropped acid, random men would not need to keep exhorting them to do so.

But we have to tolerate everyone else’s idiocy with a smile, or random male idiots will, indeed, walk up to us unbidden and instruct us to smile like it’s any of their business what our faces are doing. Boys snapping your bra straps? Boys will be boys, you have to tolerate them. People judging your housekeeping skills but not those of the other grown-ass adult living in the house who doesn’t lift a finger but brings home every interesting random bit of junk he finds and fills the house to bursting with it? Gotta tolerate that. Idiot married Boomer men thinking it’s cute and flirty to pat a 35 year old women’s head so that the brim of her hat shoves her glasses down into her nose and bruises it? Same idiot Boomer leering and making sexual comments at a 12 year old girl? Oh, he’s harmless, gotta tolerate that. Leftist men who sexually harass or rape women? But he does good work and would suffer so in jail because he’s a POC/bisexual/pacifist whatever so gotta tolerate that. Have to smile. Have to be nice ALL THE FUCKING TIME. Even if it fucking kills you...or just makes you go ass over tip off a trail and into a large body of water in 10 degree autumn weather in front of total strangers.

By the time you get to my age your cup runneth over with all the bullshit you’ve had to tolerate and you start to tell people to go boldly back up their own asses and fuck themselves. Which is one of the reasons society loves to take continual potshots at women of a “certain age”. Oh, it’s “the menopause” making them cranky, smirk smirk...so no need to take them seriously of anything. Jeez what a “Karen” complaining and asking for the manager. (I worked in retail, middle-aged women have nothing...NOTHING....on middle aged men when it comes to complaining, arguing and asking for managers. In fact that seems to be the crux of the problem, that middle age women are behaving less like reticent and “nice” young women and more like....GASP...men!) Given that the women in my family go into it very late, and I haven’t even hit perimenopause yet at nearly 50, I’m pretty sure my complaints are purely bullshit-related, not endocrine. But even regarding women who do have a little hormanal testiness, if the hormones were the cause then middle-aged women should be losing control across the board....road rage incidents over bad driving by others, smacking their grandchildren over misbehaviour, frothing at the mouth over the long covid lineups at the Service Canada kiosk, Yet by and large 50ish women are not randomly lashing out over every annoyance. What they are specifically annoyed about is being treated disrespectfully. At best the hormones are giving added oomph to the well of silent seething women keep a lid on for decades.

So, what do I want as a woman, anyway?

I want the same rights men have. Simple everyday rights.

I want the right to choose clothing that is physically and psychologically “safe”. I want the unquestioned right to wear clothing that is appropriate to the activity I am to engage in. I want the right to not have my clothing uniquely policed in a way men’s is not. I want not to be blindsided by religious events masquerading as public events for everyone that suddenly demand I change my wardrobe to fit their morality.

And I want to be able to claim those rights AS A WOMAN WHO DESERVES SAFE, PRACTICAL, APPROPRIATE CLOTHING SIMPLY BECAUSE SHE IS A HUMAN FUCKING BEING.

I don’t want to be put into the position of having to “identify as male” to enjoy those simple rights.

I don’t want to be put in a position to be judged as religiously disrespectful or racist, or a “NOT NICE” bitch, simply because I don’t want to go arse over teakettle into the freezing waters of the Bay. Nor should I have to come, hat in hand, to organizers of an event pleading that I have been raped and am sometimes uncomfortable in a skirt, or having to detail my health concerns with people, unless I damn well choose to reveal those aspects of my personal life. Now I happen to be relatively free with that info but that is not the point. That’s MY CHOICE to be free with it, or not, as I please. And ALL women, including those who are shy or private, should have that choice.

Not ONE SINGLE man was impacted by the instructions given regarding “religious respect” (In fact they simply weren’t addressed at all), or put in a position of having to come “explain’ why they can’t or won’t comply by revealing details of their personal lives like a child explaining to a teacher why their homework isn’t completed. Not one man was put in that humiliating, infantilizing, and dehumanizing position. Why is it too much to fucking ask that I have the same right to respect and privacy, and the right to simply exist without constant unnecessary scrutiny of my body?

The Left today and Libfeminism have nothing to offer me here except to tell me to be “tolerant” of being treated like crap, endlessly policed, and put in no-win situations day in and out. That’s why I don’t need Feminism. I suspect I need Radical Feminism. And it’s surprising new allies in centrist, libertarian and moderately conservative men don’t hurt either....because NO, I DON’T hate men. I hate the system that needlessly deprives me of enjoying the same rights as men due to Bronze Age superstitions. And I hate a Left and “intersectional” Libfeminism that continues to apologize for that system whenever it happens to be a person who isn’t a White Christian European enforcing their superstitions and morality on me...but who, when I wore long skirts voluntarily, attacked me constantly, accusing of me of doing my part to bring about the downfall of western civilization as we know it...(eyes roll) as if I’ve never heard that kind of hysterical “women will destroy everything with their poor clothing choices” rhetoric from the religious Right. So it’s ok to wear skirts when somebody “Brown” forces or coerces me, but it’s not ok when I choose to. When you get around to making up your fucking minds and having a consistent belief structure, don’t call me. I have no more patience for your bullshit.

#why i don't need feminism #why i need radical feminism #radical feminism #libfems #leftists #tired of your shit

0 notes