#and i fully signed up for these therapy groups because i was feeling so bad

[omgrandomwords]

ok so i’m incapable of keeping literally anything to myself but i am feeling very emotional abt this so

[nicoleanell]

Another smart post going around reminded me of this thing that's been in my drafts, so you gonna hear some SURPRISE RENFIELD 2023 DEEP THOUGHTS FROM ME. <3

Going back to this post which still does occasional numbers,

I feel some ways about how Robert Montague Renfield is overflowing with empathy for other people despite his own circumstances being a million times more dire. He adopts calling the group's abusers "monsters" despite intimiately knowing an actual genuine monster and arguably being one himself.

Like he could've EASILY taken a look around that support group and been like "boo hoo call me when your literal intestines are coming out of your body", but instead of ever looking down on them or treating it as a competition over who has suffered most, he meets them at the place where they're hurting and absorbs it and connects to his hurt. He recognizes it as part of the same continuum, even when the details don't line up or measure evenly, it's Real and an experience he can imagine or relate to. Which is a good thing for support and/or therapy in a group setting.

Later on he lightly calls Rebecca out for her anger issues, but then after she rants about the source of that anger, his response is an utterly sincere "that sounds painful." INTESTINES. OUT OF HIS BODY. MAYBE 48 HOURS + 1 BAD HAIRCUT AGO. HE HAS JUST SHOWERED OFF THE BLOOD OF THE ONLY FRIENDS AND ALLIES HE HAD. But he winces in sympathy over her corruption and dead dad stuff.

And yes, I also feel a way about how that's a part of his nature that's been either exploited or fully trained into him by Dracula, because we ALSO see that in their interactions - "you deserve better", "I know being undead is a painful existence." Like… the fact he constantly leads off with empathy and validation of other people's feelings and that's the way he diffuses Rebecca's anger in that moment is not NOT linked to his codependency issues and the ways he's been abused. Of course everyone else's pain is not less valid than his, it's more valid actually!! He is more than happy to shut up about his needs and his trauma and declare someone else as the priority and Life's Main Character. The way he's still apologizing compulsively and transferring his submissiveness and fawn behavior to somebody else is very much a thing other people have pointed out, jokingly and sincerely.

But in spite of that, I still think it's ultimately a sign of his kindness and genuine compassion for others. And it doesn't have to be a one-way street.

Rebecca is (pretty understandably!) not as sympathetic to him in that scene as he's being with her, because she's still very freaked out and thought he was an ENTIRELY different type of weirdo than the weirdo he's turned out to be. But. Less than an hour later she is listening with an open mind while he tells her the most bluntly holding-myself-accountable, not-self-pitying version of his story and her takeaway is not only "you're not a bad person", it's specifically: I've done shit that I regret too, and being mean to my sister is on an almost LAUGHABLY smaller scale than anything you just said to me, but the point is I recognized your feelings on a basic humanity level somewhere in there and related to that. Again not a competition, and not about their experiences being perfectly in proportion with each other! It's good.

[m34gs]

Ranking the Saw VI victims based on how sorry I felt for them...

...because why not. This is 100% subjective and 1000% unprompted.

Saw VI spoilers, and Saw-appropriate levels of carnage discussion ahead.

Hank the Janitor comes in at number one because I felt so bad for him. Dude didn't stand a chance, and all he did was clean the office and mop floors at the insurance company. I get that the purpose was for Mr. Executive of the company to learn how bullshit and stupid his "formula" for insurance eligibility/coverage is, but I also hated how that trap pitted them against each other, unlike the other scenarios in the movie. I mean, I feel like partly it was just bad luck for the custodian. If he'd been swapped with the secretary, would he have been allowed to live and would she have died? Because there's no way William is going to die for someone, even if he does come to realize how cruel his "formula" is.

Tara and Brent are tied for second place. I know they technically weren't victims of the trap in that they were not forced to do tests and were not harmed, but I think being trapped in a cage for hours watching one man work through various traps where at least one person always died would be traumatizing enough on its own. Then, to find out the man you were watching the entire time is the reason your husband/father is not still alive? That's some emotional damage. I also think Brent is gonna have need some serious therapy because I don't think he was prepared for how gruesome William's death would be when he made the choice to pull that lever.

Addy the secretary. Again, this was another person who was just doing her job. She wasn't the one making decisions, she probably didn't even fully understand William's formula. Most places that deal with sensitive information such as health care or finances operate on a "need to know" basis. You only get the knowledge you need to do your job. She did survive, which is why she's lower than Hank on this list, but she's gotta be traumatized as fuck (I was thrilled to see her in the support group in Saw VII, felt like some good world-building).

Allen is next. Lower than Addy but not by much. I felt sorry for him because he was alone. He had no one to even miss him when he died and that hurts to think about. Also, I did appreciate how William tried hard to save them both and only gave in when he realized that if he didn't choose between them, he would save neither of them. It was a shitty situation all around. Also a barbed wire noose is fucked up.

Pamela comes in at 5. I don't like her. I think she's annoying as fuck and I hate how she acts through the entire movie. But it's a bit sickening to think she was forced to watch her brother's (William) body get eaten away and split in two by acid while he was still alive and screaming. Like, that's just brutal, and whether or not I hate her I think that is just something so horrible to make her watch. I honestly think that they could have done the trap without kidnapping her, but adding her to that mix just added another layer of trauma and desperation and horror to the entire scenario.

Debbie the lawyer and the shotgun merry-go-round are tied here. I really didn't feel much sympathy for any of them. Honestly, I felt like they were all rather shitty people in the movie. They all knew the way things were run in the insurance company, they were all in it together and yet they were all ready to throw others under the bus at the first sign of trouble. The only reason I feel a little bad for them is because they were put in the trap to test William, and so it makes me wonder that if it wasn't for him perhaps none of them would have ended up in a trap at all. Maybe they all would've also been better people without his influence on them at work.

William. He's last. I really didn't feel sorry for him and his suffering during the movie. I think it was a big karma moment, based on how he treated his clients. He had the power to make changes and to work for the people instead of basically robbing them, and he didn't. (and yeah, I think if people pay for insurance and then you deny them coverage for treatments they need, that's fucking robbery. They're paying for a service and then the service isn't delivered? Appalling. Disgusting. I hate that it's real, too. It's so unfair.) People were denied life-saving medications and treatments because of him. Their blood is on his hands. Anyway, out of everyone who died or suffered in that trap, he did deserve it the most in my opinion. No sympathy for him from me.

So, yeah. That's my thoughts. My personal list.

[couldyouspeakmyname]

Invading your inbox before I tuck into bed but: literally every male character in Beastars requires some form of therapy.

But especially Legoshi’s entire family tree. Heads-up, there's a discussion of suicide below this point.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Gosha

For the trauma of both directly or indirectly being not just the cause, but also the reason for both his wife and child committing suicide.

Like seriously, without sugarcoating it, his species is the reason why both his wife and daughter killed themselves. In the case of Toki, Gosha’s species was used as a method of suicide.

Not just that, but Yafya. Just Yafya. I'd feel pretty bad knowing that my former best friend was about here beating up my grandson and exposing him to dangerous criminals lmao

Also: being told by your own daughter that she is going to (not even "I think", but being infinitely more assertive) hide her Komodo Dragon heritage HAS to sting.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Toki

For — quite frankly — commiting suicide in the most selfish way possible (right in front of her husband and their infant baby, on what was meant to be a celebratory night, too). Seriously: I know you want to kiss your hubby w/o the "unromantic" aspect of him cleaning you off after (god can only imagine how trying for Leano went lmao — I guess Gosha just dumped a full tub of cold, freezing antisceptic on her), but there's a reason why Gosha is so adamant about it. And it's the fact Toki got rid of all his antiseptic shows me that she absolutely was trying to die.

She didn't get rid of just one spray bottle’s worth; she got rid of how ever many big jugs of the stuff Gosha had.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Leano

This woman.

This woman.

This WOMAN.

First off — I know that the main reason she's ashamed of her heritage is because of the stigma associated with it, but, it's still unhealthy AF.

I fully believe that her strained relationship with Gosha was part of the reason Legoshi grew apart from his grandfather (albeit, Gosha’s — to a child who doesn't know what mourning looks like — lackadaisical attitude about Leano's funeral probably played a big part)

Even when Leano’s spirit (assuming that wasn't a weird fever dream) talks to Legoshi, there is still an emphasis on appearances — on how Leano checked Legoshi’s face for any signs of his reptilian heritage.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Legoshi

I fully support Gosha’s origina diagnosis that Legoshi’s attraction to Haru is his predatorial instinct — not because you can't have interspecies relationships or anything, but rather, because the lengths Legoshi goes through is just ... absurd, when you stop and think about it.

Also ... I feel like he could’ve honestly just told Rokume "Hey I found the killer :)" instead of ... everything else that he did. It would've left him free to marry Haru w/o the need to hunt down Melon.

Legoshi's entire spiel about hating what he was born as, and about how carnivores exist just to protect herbivores ... I feel like that should be checked out lmao

ALL THE AGREE

group and individual therapy for all!!

[yaoischolar]

tw for some c/s/a talk i guess

mostly im just putting this here because i get to ramble a bit more than i do through twitter ... though it feels kind of ridiculous to wail about this online to strangers, i've always found solace in that, haven't i?

i had a really really difficult therapy session last thursday that kind of left me picking up a lot of shattered pieces of my childhood. i casually mentioned to her that i have the passing thought now and then that i was sexually abused as a child, but i never press on it because i've always had so much going on otherwise. but for once i let myself press since i was safe enough to do so. and i just.

how do you deal with something you have no memory of, but all of the scars remain? how do you just have a realization like this and try to continue life as normal? i feel like i've always had clear "before" and "after" moments in my childhood wrt traumatic events, but now that clarity has completely shattered, because there was never a real before. there was just always an after. and you don't even remember what happened— theres only signs pointing to that direction, leading you down the road only to open up to a giant pit that you can't fathom going down right now.

i've always known what sex was. i could basically reenact it as a child. i let the neighbor boy lock me in a closet with himself while he tried to "make out" with me and i just sat there and didnt move, and just accepted that until the door was finally opened and i could leave. i let a girl at daycare show me a hiding spot where she could touch my vaginal area and i could touch hers, but then once it was done, she threatened to tell all of the teachers on me. ive always had a fixation on romance and the physical aspects of a romantic relationship even if i never "fully" understood— since i was a young child, all the way to being a teenager.

when i discovered masturbation i felt so fucking ashamed and guilty. i could never penetrate myself until i started having sex later on in life, but penetrative sex has usually had a very sharp, stabbing pain deep inside of me that i always did my best to ignore because maybe eventually it could go away. (sometimes it does, sometimes it's there.) oral sex is completely off the table. it's always induced a kind of nausea in me to think about performing it at all.

i don't know who could have done it. i always left my aunt and uncles house in tears after spending weekends there as a child, and i don't remember any of those weekends. my uncle has had a weird fixation on me since i was young. last year during the holidays, as i was leaving with my wife, he was really drunk. he grabbed me and all i felt was a sense of panic. he grabbed my face and it was terrifying, watching him lean down like he was gonna kiss me directly only to turn my head at the last second and kiss my cheek. and then he says "you know i love you, right?"

but then theres the fact my siblings had friends in and out of the house a lot. i hung out with boys older than me when my mom brought me along to see her friends. i would be left alone unsupervised with them a lot. my parents have always been convinced im dramatic and a liar.

i never really understood that i was a person until i was nearly 10. i always viewed my life as never my own. i was just a puppet for someone to watch on tv, i even remember sitting there imagining a group of men were watching my life play out on the tv while i took a bath as a very young child. i know i blocked a lot of pieces out, and my brain really cherrypicks memories, but something isn't adding up. something isn't right.

i waffle on this and my mom's voice lives in my head telling me i'm making this up. but if i was making this up, would my body have such a visceral reaction? i spent the entire night after my therapy session wide awake replaying every moment i could remember from my childhood. i've felt so fucking bad and listless since thursday. the only moments i feel grounded are when i have the company of others. when im alone or quiet my brain always comes back to this now. if i try to press on any one memory that i think could be a hint, i feel dizzy and heavy all at once. i've read countless articles and reddit posts and posts here just to make sense of everything. i get worried i never showed the extreme symptoms, but i certainly had depression and anxiety before i was even an adolescent.

sex was a very carefully avoided subject in my house. it was never brought up, and my family worked double time to ensure i wouldn't see suggestive content of any kind. i was sitting with my siblings once while they were watching a movie where two girls end up making out, and right when it started happened, i was shuffled out of the room immediately. i wasnt allowed to really enjoy pre-teen or teenage media of any kind until... i don't know? one day they kind of stopped trying to hide it. but sex was still never brought up to me. always avoided. i was never asked if i was having sex as a teenager. never asked if i messed around with any friends. i was still always free to sleep over at friends houses when i was in elementary school, but i really only ever had one friend i was consistently sleeping over at, and when i was a teenager our sleepovers were in large groups.

this post has no real direction. i like to treat this like a diary sometimes. i know if i have it here im not just exaggerating how badly i've been doing over the last few days, and if i doubt how much it's affected me down the line, i have this to fall back on. i have therapy again on thursday. i have a lot of things to unpack. i know eventually i may uncover something i've kept hidden in me for a long time. there's a strange relief to know i'm not just someone who's kind of always had a weird, poor relationship with sex and my body— my body remembers. even if i don't, my body does, and it's always tried to tell me.

but now i have so much to reckon with. im finally safe enough in my life that i can process these emotions, yeah. sure. how do i deal with the idea that there's never really not been sexual trauma within me? how do i deal with the fact that one of the worst things that can happen to a child happened to me, and if i said anything to my family right now, i would be called a liar? how do i deal with the fear that people doubt my claims on this since i dont have memory of it happening?

i'll be ok. i know i will be. i have a good support system in place. i just wish that i had a chance as a child. i never had one. nobody gave me one. all the brief moments of love i felt from my family feel so empty now. what do they know that i don't?

[blackstarising]

coming back to this post i made again to elaborate - especially as the ted lasso fandom is discussing sam/rebecca and fandom racism in general. there are takes that are important to make that i had failed to previously, but there's also a growing amount of takes that i have to, As A Black Person™, respectfully disagree with.

tl;dr for the essay below sam being infantilized and the sam/rebecca relationship are not the same issue and discussing the former one doesn't mean excusing the latter. and we've reached the glen of the Dark Forest where we sit down and talk about fandom racism.

i should have elaborated this in my last post about sam/rebecca, but i didn't. i'll say it now - i personally don't support sam and rebecca getting together for real. i believe what people are saying is entirely correct, even though sam is an adult legally, he and rebecca are, at the very least, two wildly different stages of life. for americans, he's at the equivalent of being a junior in college. there are things he hasn't gotten the chance to experience and there are areas he needs to grow in. when i was younger, i didn't understand the significance of these age gaps, i just thought it would be fine if it was legal, but as someone who is now a little older than sam in universe, i understand fully. we can't downplay this. whether or not you think sam works for rebecca or not, even despite the gender inversion of the Older Man Younger Woman trope, whether or not he is a legal adult, i don't think at this point in time, their relationship would work. i think it's an interesting narrative device, but i don't want to see it play out in reality.

that being said!

what's worrying me is that two discussions are being conflated here that shouldn't be. sam having agency and being a little more grown™ than he's perceived to be does not suddenly make his relationship with rebecca justified. i had decided to bring it up because sam was being brought into the spotlight again and i was starting to realizing that his infantilization was more common than i felt comfortable with.

sam's infantilization (and i will continue to call it that), is a microaggression. it's is in the range of microaggressions that i would categorize as 'fandom overcompensation'. we have a prominent character of color that exhibits traits that aren't stereotypical, and we don't want to appear racist or stereotypical, so we lean hard in the other direction. they're not aggressive, they're a Sweet Baby, they're not world weary, they're now a little naive. they're not cold and distant, they're so nice and sweet that there's no one that wouldn't want approach them, and yeah, on their face, these new traits are a departure and, on their face, they seem they look really good.

but at a certain point, it reaches an inflection point, and, like the aftertaste of a diet coke, that alleged sweetness veers into something a lot less sweet. it veers into a lack of agency for the character. it veers into an innocence that appears to indicate that the person can't even take care of themselves. it veers into a one-dimensional characterization that doesn't allow for any depth or negative emotion.

it's not kind anymore. it's not a nice departure from negative stereotypes. it's not compensating for anything.

it's patronizing.

it is important that we emphasize that characters of color are more than the toxic stereotypes we lay on them, yes, but we make a mistake in thinking that the solution is overcorrection. for one thing, people of color can usually tell. don't get it twisted, it's actually pretty obvious. for another, it just shifts from one dimension to another. people of color are still supposed to be Only One Character Trait while white people can contain multitudes. ted, who is pretty much as pollyanna as they come, can be at once innocent and naive and deep and troubled and funny and scared. jamie can be a prick and sexy and also lonely and also a victim of abuse. sam, however, even though he was bullied (by jamie, no less), is thousands of miles away from home, and has led a protest on his team, is usually just characterized as human sunshine with much less acknowledgement of any other traits beyond that.

and that's why i cringe when fandom calls sam a Sweet Baby Boy without any sense of irony. is that all we're taking away? after all this time? even for a comedy, sam has received a substantive of screen time over two whole seasons, and we've seen a range of emotions from him. so as a black person it's hurtful that it's boiled down to Sweet Baby Boy.

that's the problem. we need to subvert stereotypes, but more importantly, we need to understand that people of color are not props, or pieces of cardboard for their white counterparts. they are full and actualized and have agency in their own right and they can have other emotions than Angry and Mean or Sweet and Bubbly without any nuance between the two. i think the show actually does a relatively good job of giving sam depth (relatively, always room for improvement, mind you), especially holding it in tension with his youth, but the fandom, i worry, does not.

it's the same reason why finn from star wars started out as the next male protagonist in the sequel trilogy but by the third movie was just running around yelling for REY!! it's the same reason why when people make Phase 4 Is the Phase For Therapy gifsets for the mcu and show wanda maximoff, loki, and bucky barnes crying and being sad but purposefully exclude sam wilson who had an entire show to tell us how difficult his life is, because people find out if pee oh sees are also complex, they'll tell the church.

and the reason why i picked up on this very early on is because i am an organic, certified fresh, 100% homegrown, non-gmo, a little ashy, indigenous sub saharan African black person. the ghanaian tribes i'm descended from have told me so, my black ass parents have told me so, and the nurses at the hospital in [insert asian country here] that started freaking out about how curly my hair was as my mother was mid pushing me out told me so!

and this stuff has real life implications. listen: being patronized as a black person sucks. do you know how many times i was patted on the back for doing quite honestly, the bare minimum in school? do you know how many times i was told how 'well spoken' or 'eloquent' i was because i just happen to have a white accent or use three syllable words? do you know how many times i've been cooed over by white women who couldn't get over how sweet i was just because i wasn't confrontational or rude like they wrongly expected me to be?

that's why they're called microaggressions. it's not a cross on your lawn or having the n-word spat in your face, but it cuts you down little by little until you're completely drained.

so that's the nuance. that's the subversion. the overcompensation is not a good thing. and people of color (and i suspect, even white people) have picked up on, in general, the different ways fandom treats sam and dani and even nate. what all of these discussions are converging on is fandom racism, which is not the diet form of racism, but another place for racism to reveal itself. and yeah, it's uncomfortable. it can seem out of left field. you may want to defend yourself. you may want to explain it away. but let me tap the sign on the proverbial bus:

if you are a white person, or a person of color who is not part of that racial group, even, you do not get to decide what is not racist for someone. full stop. there are no exceptions. there is no exit clause for you. there is no 'but, actually-'. that right wasn't even yours to cede or waive.

(it's also important to note that people of color also have the right to disagree on whether something is racist, but that doesn't necessarily negate the racism - it just means there's more to discuss and they can still leave with different interpretations)

people don't just whip out accusations of racism like a blue eyes white dragon in a yu-gi-oh duel. it's not fun for us. it's not something we like to do to muzzle people we don't want to engage with. and we're not concerned with making someone feel bad or ashamed. we're exposing something painful that we have to live with and, even worse, process literally everything we experience through. we can't turn it off. we can't be 'less sensitive' or 'less nitpicky'. we are literally the primary resources, we are the proverbial wikipedia articles with 3,000 sources when it comes to racism. who else would know more than us?

what 2020 has shown us very clearly is that racism is systemic. it's not always a bunch of Evil White Men rubbing their hands together in a dark room wondering how they're going to use the 'n-word' today. it's systemic. it's the way you call that one neighborhood 'sketchy'. it's how you use 'ratchet' and 'ghetto' when describing something bad. it's how you implicitly the assume the intelligence of your friend of color. it's the way you turned up your nose and your friend's food and bullied them for it in middle school but go to restaurants run by white people who have 'uplifted' it with inauthentic ingredients. it's telling someone how Well Spoken and Eloquent they are even though you've both gone to the same schools and work at the same workplace. it's the way you look down at some people of color for having a different body type than you because they've been redlined to neighborhoods where certain foods and resources are inaccessible, and yet mock up the racial features that appeal to you either through makeup or plastic surgery.

it's how when a person of color behaves badly, they're irredeemable, but a white person performing the same act or something similar is 'having a bad day' or 'isn't normally like this' or 'has room to grow' and we can't 'wait for their redemption arc', and yes, i'm not going to cover it in detail in this post but yes this is very much about nate. other people have also brought up the nuances in his arc and compared them to other white characters so i won't do it here.

these behaviors and reactions aren't planned. they aren't orchestrated. they're quite literally unconscious because they've been lovingly baked into western society for centuries. you can't wake up and be rid of it. whether you intended it or not, it can still be racist.

and it's actually quite hurtful and unfair to imply that concerns about racism in the TL fandom are unfounded or lacking any depth or simply meant to be sensational because you simply don't agree with it. i wish it was different, but it doesn't work that way. i'm not raising this up to 'call out' or shame people, but i'm adding to this discussion because, through how we talk about sam, and even dani and nate, i'm yet again seeing a pattern that has shortchanged people of color and made them feel unwelcome in fandom for far too long.

coach beard said it best: we need to do better.

[chaoticevilbean]

An (Un)Official List Of Things Only Anakin Skywalker Can Do

Originally written by Ayala Secura

Blow people up with his mind on accident

Anakin expressed concern over his lack of emotional control. He gave many examples of normal problems that can arise from this. He then casually added one that is not common, usual, or even plausible for known Jedi. From his recollection, he would often cause beings who enraged him to spontaneously and violently combust.

I did my best to reassure him that such things were considered unusual, but weren't reason for him to be fearful. At the time, I simply didn't wish to increase his worries. I did maintain that the exploding of beings is very bad, and that he should work on finding ways to productively release such strong emotions.

I apologize here for the "renovation" of the hangar. (Secura)

Hear as far as the length of the Temple (without meditation)

Amendment: Hear as far as the diameter of Coruscant (without meditation)

Anakin once again was expressing concerns over his lack of control. He also complained that it was causing him headaches. Upon my questioning, he explained that he could hear the younglings playing on the other side of the Temple. I tested this by having us stand on either end of the longest part of the Temple we could reach. I asked if he could hear me (without a comm) and he responded that he could (using a comm).

Later, when he was still within the Temple, I found myself on a mission with my Master. It was not a very rushed assignment, and I began humming. Upon my return to the Temple, Anakin asked me if I knew what song it was, humming the exact tune I had. Apparently, he had been walking with his own Master and had heard me, though he hadn't been focusing enough to identify what he was doing. (Secura)

Smell differences within water despite being a non-variant Human

Smell differences within air despite being a non-variant Human

He accompanied me to the Room of a Thousand Fountains. It was a normal walk through the gardens, until we came across one of the smaller ponds. He commented that someone had cleaned it recently. When I asked how he knew, he explained that it smelled different.

He and I were sitting within his quarters. We were simply chatting when he complained that someone had messed with the ventilation without alerting him or Knight Kenobi. He could smell the air was slightly different than before. As he put it, the smell wasn't the problem, but the lack of communication was.

Both instances, he couldn't elaborate on what exactly the smells were, nor how he knew what each one meant. He simply knows these things. When tested with some other Padawans, the only ones that came close to knowing such things were Nautolans, out of a base group of 15 species. The experiment is listed in the Archives as Liquid and Gaseous Change Detection. (Secura)

Eat death sticks without consequence

Both of our Masters brought us to the lower levels in order to fulfill a mission. Anakin and I were left in a corner booth, with instructions to remain there and cause a commotion if someone attempted to harm or harrass us.

I looked away for TEN SECONDS. Ten seconds, and he was being offered a death stick by a clearly intoxicated individual who had no sense of what should and shouldn't be given to a barely ten-cycle-old. Anakin had no experience with such things. He had no idea what he was being given, and managed to get instructions to pour the liquid into his fizzyglug within the fleeting moment I was not paying attention.

He consumed it, chugging the liquid when I attempted to order him to stop, and then take it from him when he didn't listen. The individual who gave him the death stick had the sense to begin to panic, finally realizing Anakin's youth. However, Anakin finished off every drop with nothing but a smile. I got our Masters attention, but even after taking him to the nearest medcenter and runnign multiple scans, there were no signs of any harm. I have received significant therapy for that event, and Anakin has since been informed to not take anything from strangers. (Secura)

Generate electricity on levels that a (non-variant) Human cannot perform (without a health declination)

He was making his hair do that weird static thing that Human hair does every time he got excited. He also kept causing screens and pads to glitch or turn off whenever he picked them up while in a similar state. A solution of temporary insulating gloves and frequent reminders helped him gain control. (Secura)

Communicate words through the Force with minimal bonding

Amendment: No bonding is necessary for this form of communication, and is possible within the expanse of the Temple

Amendment: Communication is possible over most distances

He asked me if Aayla was available to study (with the Force) because his mouth was full and he'd already been told off that day. (Vos)

Skywalker told me that my Padawan was experiencing a panic attack from across the Temple. No bond existed between us before or after the interaction. (Fisto)

Skywalker informed me of a mission delay over several systems. He explained later that he was attempting to prevent his Master's worry about informing the Council and knew I would inform the other members for Kenobi. (Windu)

Consume raw meat (without a health declination) despite being a non-variant Human

Nervous to eat lunch alone, he was. Asked to eat together, I did. Showed him the kitchens, I did. Ate five live frogs, he did. Proud, I am. (Yoda)

I handed him a rodent I had found within my quarters, asking him to hold it so I could call someone. I was going to call a being who could help me prevent further instances and get rid of this rodent. I needn't have worried about relocating or disposing of the creature, though. I remember hearing a loud squeal, then turning to find Skywalker trying to tear away the fur of the rodent. He had no notion that it was an unusual habit for a Human. (Ti)

Jump into the Temple vents without using the walls

Amendment: Without using any aid

Amendment: Jump in/out of the Temple vents and on/off obstacles of similar height without any aid whatsoever

He's proved this multiple times over various training excercises, and occasionally his attempts to avoid said excercises. There's footage of it from the Temple's cameras. He has no regard for safety when it comes to jumping off of ledges, cliffs, or roofs/out windows. Caution advisory does nothing. (Kenobi)

Send emotions through the Force without a bond

Amendment: Send emotions without a bond, over great distances, with extreme precision and without any meditation or prior preparation - such emotions will likely be magnified upon reception, and can cause fainting, among other symptoms

Upon the death of notable Jedi Master Pak'll Tiffn, I had decided to participate in their culture's traditional week-long mourning practices. Near the end of this, young Skywalker asked me why I seemed so "down". I explained my grief at the death of Master Tiffn, and he continued to question me on the cause of my "distress". When he discovered I had technically finished the practices an hour before, he sent such a strong wave of excitement to me that I found it hard to not smile for the following three days.

I also found myself wishing to work on starfighter engines, which I attribute to the excitement being of Skywalker's creation. (Tiin)

I had a migraine while on a mission. Skywalker sent me a wave of comfort that caused me to pass out. He has since been informed that he should not interact with Jedi in the field unless he is certain they are in a safe enough position to do so. (Windu)

Accidentally cause plants to grow at a visibly accelerated rate

Anakin fell asleep in the Room of a Thousand Fountains while attempting to meditate. Upon my arrival, I found the grass already past my knees in height, and several nearby shrubs beginning to flower. I write my apologies here to the caretakers of the Room, and express my gratitude that none of you commented on it. (Kenobi)

Accidental levitation whilst walking

Amendment: Accidental levitation whilst walking, running, and other movement in which one is not standing/sitting/lying in a singular place

Witnessed during sparring practice with Master Kit Fisto and Master Ki-Adi Mundi

Bypass shielding enough to receive a clear perception of a being's emotions

I was working through some guilt over a recent mission and the requirements to fulfill it. Anakin walked over and did his best to comfort me without any understanding of why I was feeling that way, but knowing exactly what I was feeling. Throughout our entire interaction, my shields remained firmly in place, and strong enough that he really shouldn't have been able to even know where I was.

Oh yeah. He came from across the Temple to find me. He bypassed my shielding from across the Temple, without realizing his actions, and did so with better precision than a fully trained Master. (Vos)

Carry items of any weight without strain from channeling

According to Skywalker, the only trouble he has with lifting all the furniture in his quarters is he has to focus on the act while also looking for his missing holopad. (Koon)

(regarding previous entry) Reminds me of the time he lifted all the ships in Hangar 6 in order to find a single wrench, which was in somehow within the vents. (Billaba)

Cause a building-wide power outage from a nightmare/vision

Incident recorded as Padawan-induced. (Nu)

Bite through beskar when curious

Taste the strength of metals

Skywalker is no longer allowed in the forges without someone actively supervising him and him alone. He saw a piece of beskar I had managed to aquire. He was curious about the ore, due to it being unknown to him. I caught him with it in his mouth like some youngling sneaking a cookie. Apparently it tasted really strong. I thought he meant the taste was pungent, until he said that even durasteel didn't taste as strong. (Ria)

Heal minor personal wounds immediately, within a few seconds and without discernible energy usage

Heal major personal wounds immediately, up to halving recovery time and with lessened energy usage

Incidents recorded in mission reports including Skywalker (Nu)

Accidentally mind trick crowds of 20 or more

Amendment: Untested limit of how many can be affected, although the effectiveness of the tricks varies between individuals, and can reach up to 50 beings (recorded)

Note to all those who may serve a diplomatic mission with Skywalker: he can safely diffuse mobs, protests, and other upset crowds. He will need time to calm his own emotions afterwards, as it is (theoretically) his increasing anxiety that causes such effects. (Fisto)

Learn a language after hearing it only once

Amendment: Anakin will not know this is happening. He will simply begin to speak the language back at whoever spoke it to him.

Incidents recorded in mission reports including Skywalker (Nu)

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

All Jedi are now welcome to add to the (Un)Official List of Things Only Anakin Skywalker Can Do. All editors are asked to put some form of a source, even if such source is simply a page-long rant about Padawan Skywalker's habit of not checking if a substance should be poisonous to him (condolences to Knight Vos).

Please also include some sort of identifier to connect each edit to the being(s) who created them.

Sincerest gratitude and condolences to all Jedi who find themselves editing this file. (Secura)

[chainofclovers]

Ted Lasso 2x3 thoughts

Brendan Hunt confirmed on Twitter that the writers wrote the first three episodes of the season with the intention of releasing them on the same day, just as they dropped the first three episodes of season one on the same day. Having finally watched the first three over three different weeks, I really wish they’d been able to launch all three on the same day. I really liked the first two episodes of the season, but the third episode really puts a lot of things into context. Between the political storyline, the return of Sassy (and a bit of a level-setting conversation between Sassy, Rebecca, and Ted) and Rebecca’s navigation of her professional life as an all-in club owner and her experience reconnecting to Nora...all of that feels like we’re done setting up the season now. Exposition complete—and to the writers’ credit, all three of these episodes are far more than exposition. A lot of story has happened.

So much so that this week’s installment has categories.

Sassy and Ted and Rebecca

Hahahahahahahahahaha

No, seriously though, I love that they are mature adults about this and I also love that Ted is Uncomfortable and, to be perfectly honest, I like that Sassy’s aggressive unfilteredness becomes an opportunity for the show to venture into more sexual references and humor about characters other than Keeley and Roy. It was a lot of information!

I’ve seen a couple of people express disappointment that Ted seems weirded out by Sassy discussing Nora’s impending first period, but I didn’t get the impression that he was grossed out by periods. There is a lot going on! Nora is right outside the room with the door open and Sassy has run through a lot of very personal topics! I felt like his reaction was more about the proximity issue in specific and the personal nature of the conversation in general more than anything else.

So many thoughts about the intersection between the biscuits and this conversation that it had to go in its own post.

Nora!

I LOVE Nora. I want every episode of this show to be about her. I want this sitcom to be called Nora Collins.

I love that Nora’s a little bit sassy (pun on her mother’s nickname only lazily intended) in the way a thirteen-year-old can be, but also enthusiastic about spending time with Rebecca and genuinely interested in meeting everyone her godmother knows. Rebecca genuinely hurt Nora, but Nora can clearly see that Rebecca is all-in on their mended relationship, and that gives her the space to be a bit teasing. She knows Rebecca’s weaknesses and has a little fun (the cooking joke when Rebecca offers to make popcorn?!) but also isn’t going to manipulate her or take advantage.

The British doll company and all the riffs on American Girl dolls, OMG. So good.

Like literally everyone, I am extremely into Rebecca and Roy actually being friends and exchanging words with each other this season. Now everyone in the group of four mains have had some great conversational moments with each other this season (I count Ted and Keeley being into Sharon’s bike as a great conversational moment, OK?!), with the exception of Roy and Ted. Cannot wait for that.

During the photo op with the team, Sassy and Rebecca remark on how Nora is loving and hating having her picture taken with Sam and the rest of the players, and that is THE experience of being thirteen years old, and Kiki May does an incredible job infusing all of Nora’s moments with the right proportions of enthusiasm to cringe. Thirteen years olds are constantly cringing but still full of spirit and life, and at constantly changing ratios, and Nora is the perfect embodiment of that.

My heart melted during the email-writing scene. Rebecca’s writing the email on Nora’s computer! In the guest room where her goddaughter is staying! They’re wearing pajamas! And Rebecca’s smile is so genuinely huge and delighted when she signs it “boss ass bitch.”

Led Tasso and Jamie’s Redemption

This was so stupid and I loved it so much. I love that Ted’s angry alter ego is absurd rather than scary, kind of like a parody of how worked up some men get over sports. I wonder if Led Tasso’s appearance in some way foreshadows a more uncontrolled, genuine anger from Ted in a later episode, because this Led Tasso dude is ridiculous.

Tentative kudos to Led Tasso for being able to point out the, ahem, clit of the soccer ball even from within a fugue state.

The entire Chuck E. Cheese exchange with Sharon was so hilarious and wonderful.

When Ted has the idea to bring out Led Tasso, Nate assumes he’s going to suggest that Jamie talk to Sharon. I absolutely adore the implication that Jamie’s growth over this episode is attributable to both Led Tasso and Sharon Fieldstone. Because while some players are still unmoved by Jamie’s willingness to stand up to Led, it didn’t go unnoticed! And then I was so proud of Keeley for refusing to take on the emotional labor of listening to Jamie when she was too busy with her actual job, and I felt that Jamie’s pretty immediate willingness to see what the therapy thing was all about was extremely in line with his character. He’s always seeking out Keeley to talk, and sometimes he actually means “talking” when he asks to talk with her! Jamie feels like someone who’s standing at a wall of doors, knocking on each one, trying to see what sticks. He really lacks foundation. I’m curious to know what he and Sharon spoke about in their session, but I like that the writers left the session private. The knowledge that he’s started seeing a psychologist is valuable information in and of itself, and Jamie’s decision to act in solidarity with Sam and the other Nigerian players is the perfect evidence that he’s thinking in new ways.

Sam and Dubai Air

Toheeb Jimoh is always great, but he’s so great in this episode. It’s cool to see his demeanor, pacing, and confidence shift as he becomes more at home with the team—and it’s also lovely to see that he, unlike Jamie, very much has a strong foundation in his home country, his supportive parents, his own moral center.

I like that Sam didn’t spend a bunch of time and emotional labor on teaching Jamie why caring about other people (and the environment!) matters, because that would’ve undercut the other political messages in this episode. Sam’s leading by example and everyone can either catch up or stay out, and it’s really great.

I really like the way they handled the press conference with Ted and Sam. I like that Ted gave the floor to Sam but prefaced that with very brief (for once!) remarks of his own. And I appreciated that Ted acknowledged his position of privilege, and that the angle isn’t that bad things never happen to white dudes but rather that when bad things do happen to people like Ted, it gets attention with so much less effort than when bad things happen to people who aren’t white men. Because that’s how privilege works—it’s not a shield that prevents bad things from happening to you, but it’s a safety net that ensures people will notice and address and even pitch in to take care of your bad things, often at the expense of the people who lack that privilege.

There’s probably lots of other stuff I could talk about, like the hilariously and realistically bad usernames on Bantr and Keeley brushing her snacks off the desk and into her purse and how things between Beard and Jane are clearly very, very bad and I’m worried about Beard and how it was soooo fun and lovely to see Shannon teasing Ted again (little coffee and football rituals before work are the kinds of details I absolutely live for) and HIGGINS PRETENDING REBECCA SENT HIM A BRILLIANT AND HEROIC EMAIL (which she does for real with Nora’s help just a couple scenes later!) and how delighted I was to feel that by this episode this season has really hit its stride and feels like a fully lived-in portrayal of the energized, loving, imperfect, busy, full place that is the whole AFC Richmond community. Honestly, Higgins pretending Rebecca sent that email because he wants to make her look good in front of her granddaughter is kind of the perfect encapsulation of what this episode felt like. This is a show about a bunch of imperfect people who want each other to succeed.

Edited to add: I was delighted to find out Ashley Nicole Black was writing for the show and the writing here did the opposite of disappoint! ❤️

[moonyswriting]

Heart and Soul

@peggyrose19 and @wonder-womans-ex had their birthdays over a month back and I didnt manage to make them a gift. but I still wanted to make you something because I wont just drop it after I missed the day. so this is for you two. you are incredible and talented people and I'm honoured I get to call myself your friend. I hope you'll like it.

characters by @lumosinlove

thank you for beta reading @moonofthenight

Chapter 1

“Final seconds of the second period on the clock, Frank. The Saint’s going for the goal again, passing Tremblay and going straight in Nutty’s direction-”

“And that was a hit on Leo Knut, by the Hollow’s Saint’s winger Andrew Kline. And now, the expected punches follow. Marly, they could have really seen Logan and Finn coming, right?” “Definitely, Frank. No team likes it when someone fights with their goalie but these two seem to be particularly protective of our sunshine boy. Tremzy is already throwing punches at Ethan Bart and I can see O’Hara skating over to them.”

“Oh and here comes Luke. Throwing off his gloves and joining his teammates. Maybe with all those uncovered wrists we could actually get a chance to see some soulmate tattoos again. Last one spotted was Kasey Winter’s almost two years ago now, spelling out Natalie, the name of his girlfriend. They still seem to be going strong; I’m happy for them. That incident did however get most of the players to cover their wrists up,” Frank waited for a second before continuing, “How’s the fight? Looks like we got a big one tonight, eh?”

“It is! We’ve got three people from each team fighting at the moment, but the Refs are pulling them apart now. Coach Weasley doesn’t look too happy that his players are risking injuries for fights again. He’s calling a few over now and I do not want to be on the receiving end of Arthur’s wrath, believe me.”

“Same here, Marlene. Huh, that was weird. Did you see that?”

“It was. Loops just had to shake DV so he’d move. He had stared a hole into the ice and didn’t react to the Coach or his teammate. Haven’t seen him do that before. Hopefully, he’ll be fully focused again after the break.”

“I’m hoping it wasn’t a bad hit. The Lions really don’t need another injury right now.”

“Especially after only just getting Finn back from his small wrist injury that didn’t allow him to play the last two games.”

“Yeah. We’ll keep everyone updated of course. I’m sure he’s being checked right now.”

“In the meantime, there were some fantastic plays in there. It would be quite nice for the players to have a good game before some of them get to have a break.”

“Yes, All Star week is next week and we’ll be seeing a few of the Lions there, such as the newly wedded Remus Lupin and Sirius Black, but also last year's MVP Logan Tremblay, of course.”

“I’m excited Frank! We’ll be right back after a quick break for the second period.”

-

Luke was still feeling off after the fight, going through the questions Layla asked him on autopilot. No, he wasn’t hurt, there was neither pain there nor there, yes, he could still remember his address and full name.

Their new PT seemed at a loss. She could see that he was acting very strange and, honestly, she was getting worried about forgetting some usually obvious injuries for his behaviour. There was only so much a human could guess, so she simply asked.

“What happened out there, Deveaux?”

It took a moment for Luke to register he was being addressed, mumbling a “nothing” before continuing to stare at the wall. How stupid did this boy think she was? 

Letting out a sigh, she clarified, “I just need to know if you’re injured or not,” after a second of hesitation Kayla added, “but if there’s something bothering you or just occupying your thoughts, you can always go talk to Heather. She’s helped a few of your teammates too.”

She watched his expression while telling Luke. Some guys were embarrassed of going to therapy. There was no reason to be, of course. No one got shy about having the PT check on them but when it came to mental struggles, they somehow believed they have to handle it all alone. Society and the messed up way of thinking that they teach children, honestly. She was glad they at least had some people on the team who encouraged visiting Heather any time they saw someone struggling. She knew Sirius really did help them a lot by being so open about going to her office at least once a week.

There really was no way to tell how Luke thought about her proposal, he certainly seemed to be thinking, but there was no way to determine what about. Suddenly Luke broke the silence.

“Can I go?”

Since Layla hadn’t found any injuries and she couldn’t really do more than encourage him to visit Heather, she let him leave.

The brunette was out of the room the second after the words had left her mouth.

--

They had won. The locker room was already buzzing, the mandatory playlist echoing into the hallway. After their last game against the Saint’s, which they had lost, the whole team was even more excited about having won. There was even some kind of dance match between Logan and Sirius going on, not that Luke noticed. He had been a bit off for the rest of the game, much to the dismay of Coach Weasley. That got him to spend most of his time on the bench in the last period, but he didn’t mind. For once, hockey was not his main concern, not even during this game.

He had seen it. When number 7 had thrown off his gloves for the fight, there it had been in black cursive. A soulmate tattoo, spelling out “Luke”. Of course "Luke" didn’t necessarily mean Luke as in himself, but there was still a possibility.

A possibility that his soulmate was a Saint. A Saint. He would have been happy with almost anyone, but no, it had to be an ice hockey player. He didn't care about the gender. Luckily he wouldn't even have to hide a relationship between him and a potential boyfriend because of Remus and Sirius. But a Saint? Even in his thoughts, he knew he was whining. The real problem was that they would not only live miles apart and would have practically no time for each other half of the year, but they would be opponents. In ice hockey, the other team is the enemy. He couldn't befriend the enemy and he definitely couldn't date the enemy. Even if he wanted, he'd be blamed for not playing as hard as he could or making exceptions when it came to his hypothetical boyfriend.

So really, dating a Saint was not an option.

Still, his curiosity got the better of him. If this was really his soulmate, no matter how much he didn't want him to be, he had to know.

Standing up, he made his excuses and slipped into the hallway, running along until he got to the other team's locker room.

Great plan, idiot, what will you do now?! You can’t just go in and ask in front of everyone.

Then a group of people stepped out, each looking at Luke as if he had a kick-me sign on his forehead and as if they were considering it. Quite a few had walked past him and when one held open the door for his teammate, Luke could see that there were only three people left in the room. No time better than now, he told himself, gathering some of his Lion courage and walked straight inside.

“The fuck, Lion?!”, one of the players mumbled while he left the room too, shortly followed by the other player that wasn’t the one Luke had been looking for.

He took a deep breath. The tattoo wouldn't refer to him. Of course it wouldn't. Why would it be a Saint, really. Stepping closer to the boy lacing up his shoes, Luke's eyes met a pair of brown ones, looking up through gold curls.

“Why are you here?”, the other asked, narrowing his eyes and standing up to be on eye level with the Lion.

Oh, the charm of rivalry, always straight to the point, no need for formalities.

“Do you want to brag about catching up? Hate to break it to you, but you’re not in the lead and we’ll win the next one anyway.”

Even though his words sounded confident, he leaned back and knocked on the wood of the benches.

“No,” the brunette stated, looking him dead in the eyes. This boy had activated Luke's competitiveness so there was no turning back, “to both. We’ll just win as we did today. Last time was luck and you know it.”

The other raised an eyebrow at him. “The only thing that was luck last time was that you got a goal.”

The nerve this person had. Here he was, coming to actually try to talk to him and possibly get to know him to find out about the tattoo and just got insults in return. Luke was about to shoot something back when the door opened again.

“Babe, you coming?”

[mellometal]

Is it time to tear ANOTHER Dhar Mann video to shreds? YOU BET.

I've been sitting on this one for a bit because I wanted to make sure I talk about this tactfully. The subject of parents abandoning their disabled children is a very touchy one.

Parents abandoning their disabled children simply for being disabled is way too common. Like, I understand that not everyone has the resources to care for a disabled child (which is why you reach out for help, and why people like me, who work with disabled people, exist), but it doesn't mean you just walk out of their life. There are exceptions, like if you truly didn't want children or something like that, but just flat-out walking out of your kid's life BECAUSE they're disabled is fucked up.

I know someone personally whose biological mother abandoned her when she was born. Why? Because she's disabled. Physically, and mentally, to a point. I work with this woman on a daily basis. I don't really know WHY exactly her biological mother abandoned her, but I do know that her being disabled was part of it. It's sad. It doesn't affect her, thankfully. I'm happy that she's got her biological dad, her brother, and another maternal figure in her life, at least.

ANYWAYS. Before we get to the topic at hand, I need to put an obligatory trigger warning, like I do with EVERY Dhar Mann post:

This post will be talking about parents abandoning their disabled children simply for being disabled, treating disabilities like they're tragedies (in this case, we're talking about autism...again), divorce, and some SPICY ableist bullshit from an allistic (nonautistic) PIECE OF SHIT.

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable in any way, you don't have to read this post. This isn't worth putting yourself in a bad state mentally. I would never ask for any of you to put yourselves in that position all for a post. Put your mental health and well-being first. Consume media that sparks joy for you.

As far as my response goes, it's definitely more calm than normal. Funny....since this video is about autism spectrum disorder again. (Third time's the charm, huh, Dhar Mann? NOT.)

LET'S FUCKING GET IT.

The video starts off with these two parents (Gwen and Allen) in a psychologist's office. The psychologist tells the parents that their son (Chance) is autistic, and she tries to explain what autism is to the parents, but Allen cuts her off. Why? Because he teaches at a prestigious university, so he AUTOMATICALLY knows what autism is from that fact alone.

Um, excuse me? Just because you're a teacher at a prestigious university, it doesn't mean you're an expert in everything. It doesn't make you an expert in ASD or anything like that. Unless you SPECIALIZE in that area. Even then, shut the fuck up. The people who know about being autistic are AUTISTIC PEOPLE THEMSELVES! SHOCKER.

Hey, Dhar Mann! QUIT WITH THE VIDEOS ABOUT AUTISTIC LITTLE WHITE BOYS AND YOUNG WHITE AUTISTIC CISHET MEN! I'M SICK AND TIRED OF IT. It's annoying, ignorant, and it feels like you're doing this on purpose at this point to piss people off. If you're so uninformed about autism in women and girls, FUCKING ASK AUTISTIC WOMEN AND GIRLS! DO BETTER RESEARCH THAT DOESN'T INVOLVE AUTISM SPEAKS. The Autism Self Advocacy Network (ASAN) and the Autistic Women and Nonbinary People Network (AWN) are great organizations to go to for any kind of research on ASD in women and girls. STOP GOING OFF OF THE BRAINS OF AUTISTIC WHITE BOYS AND AUTISTIC WHITE MEN.

I don't feel I need to go too deep into the fact that autistic women, autistic girls, autistic nonbinary people, autistic BIPOC, autistic AAPI, autistic LGBT people, autistic teenagers, and autistic adults exist. Y'all already know.

Gwen asks the psychologist if that means Chance isn't healthy. (I understand not knowing about autism, but don't treat it like it's a terminal illness. Please.) The psychologist tells her that Chance is fine, but he just learns differently and might need more support compared to his peers.

Yeah, autism can affect how you learn about certain things (limited and repetitive patterns), but there are other disabilities that can affect learning as well. Like how dyslexia can affect your ability to read, dyspraxia can affect your ability to do math, and Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD) can affect your ability to focus or on impulse control. Autism affects how your brain is developed, it affects you socially, behaviorally, and how you communicate.

Allen is upset, says that he can't have a son "with a learning disability" (ASD is a neurological disability, not necessarily a learning disability), and treats Chance like he's stupid for being autistic. Gwen tells her husband that autism doesn't make you any less intelligent, WHICH IS SO FUCKING TRUE. ABSOLUTE FACTS. I was totally with her until she began that little monologue with "Just because a person HAS autism". SAY "JUST BECAUSE A PERSON'S AUTISTIC" INSTEAD! IT'S NOT HARD. PERSON FIRST LANGUAGE ISN'T WHAT EVERY DISABLED PERSON PREFERS. Allen says that "they could have another kid" and "put Chance up for adoption". Gwen obviously wasn't down with that. Allen gives his wife an ultimatum that it's either HIM or their son Chance. Gwen says that she can't choose between the two, but she will stand by her autistic son. Allen gets up and leaves the office, saying he wants a divorce.

Years pass by, Gwen is single and taking care of her autistic son Chance, and Allen has a new life with a ✨perfect son✨ (Samuel). He never mentions the son HE abandoned (Chance). He's completely forgotten about Gwen and Chance. (YOU OWE SO MUCH CHILD SUPPORT, ALLEN.)

Hey, Allen, how much do you wanna bet that your ✨perfect son✨ Samuel is autistic too?

There's the SATs, they're announcing a winner, and guess who it is? IT'S OBVIOUSLY CHANCE, OF COURSE. He's got the highest score in the country, with Samuel in second place. Allen is PISSED.

Chance gives a speech about how his mom really helped him, he struggled with autism, how Allen LITERALLY ABANDONED HIM, and THE CROWD GOES FUCKING WILD. Samuel, instead of being a sore loser, APPLAUDS FOR CHANCE. Stay humble, Sam.

My thoughts on the video? If you cannot tell by my tone throughout this post, IT WAS DOG SHIT. This video was insensitive to the true reality of parents abandoning their disabled children just because they're disabled. What do I expect from Dhar Mann at this point?

Here's my response to his video below. Don't worry, I will fully type out my response soon for anyone who cannot read the screenshots easily. It's a lot easier for me to do that on the desktop site than it is for me to do it on my phone.

For anyone who can’t read my response, I’m typing it out for you. Like I said, it’s easier for me to type it out on the desktop site than it is for me to type it out on my phone. It’s a real royal pain in the ass. But because I’m trying to make my posts easier to read for people, I’m doing this anyway. /lighthearted

First, second, and third screenshots (broken up into paragraphs):

Hey, listen, I appreciate the message you’re trying to go for, but can you please stop putting autistic people into a box? Can you stop treating being autistic like it’s a tragedy? Not every single autistic person is a little white boy in elementary school who’s considered “wild and unruly” or “super quiet and makes no friends”, nor are they a young white cishet man who’s a super genius or is how Chris Chan was before she came out as trans. (For anyone who doesn’t know about Chris Chan, there are many documentaries people have made on YouTube, and I highly recommend Geno Samuel’s docuseries, if you’re really interested in learning about Chris Chan.)

Autistic women, girls, nonbinary people, BIPOC, APPI, LGBT people, teenagers, and adults all exist too. 

It’s very apparent now that you get your resources from Autism $peaks, a hate group that spends the vast majority of their money on funding eugenics instead of helping autistic people like they claim, claims that only little white boys and young white cishet men are autistic and ignores all other autistic people who don’t fit that description, have no autistic people on their leader board or on any board for that matter, have members who have actually fantasized about k1lling their autistic children, treat autism like it’s a tragedy or a disease someone can catch (completely false), act like autism should be cured (there is no cure, and ABA therapy is a total shit show in itself), and treats autistic people like they’re broken and need to be fixed. Also, not every autistic person is a Super Genius(tm). That’s so demeaning to autistic people who aren’t seen as intelligent in any way. I’m autistic and seen as smart; however, there are subjects I’m stronger in than others.

If you can’t handle the possibility of having autistic children, or just disabled children in general, DON’T HAVE CHILDREN. If you can’t handle working with or alongside disabled people, including autistic people, maybe find a different profession. Even if you do that, you’ll never get away from disabled people. Disabled people aren’t a disease. We’re human beings just like neurotypical and able-bodied people.

Fourth and fifth screenshots (broken up into paragraphs): 

I would highly suggest getting resources from reputable organizations for ASD, such as the Autism Self Advocacy Network (ASAN) and the Autistic Women and Nonbinary People Network (AWN). Talk to any autistic person who isn’t a little white boy or a young white cishet man. 

Instead of using the puzzle piece, which is a symbol that many autistic people, myself included, are offended by (because of Autism $peaks and other organizations before them using it, plus it symbolizes that only autistic children exist and that we’re “missing a piece” like we’re broken), use the rainbow infinity sign (for all neurodivergent people) or the red and gold infinity sign (just for autistic people). Instead of “lighting it up blue”, light it up red or gold. Do both if you want. 

I’m actually really sick and tired of seeing just autistic little white boys and young autistic white cishet men being represented in the media, and y’all manage to fuck that up too. 

Before anyone mentions Sia’s movie “Music”, that’s also very poor representation of autistic girls. Besides, the actress who played the autistic girl isn’t even autistic. She MOCKED autistic people. I know she’s a kid, but that’s still super fucked up. I hope she’s able to turn that around. 

If anyone would like to discuss this topic with me or ask any questions, feel free to. I’ll answer as best as I can. Thank you and have a good night.

Before I get attacked for mentioning Chris Chan in my response, I bring up Chris Chan because allistic people think that every autistic person is like her (especially before she came out as trans). That person is part of why I wasn't open about being autistic or talking about my diagnosis until this year. I didn't want to be grouped up with Chris Chan because I do have very similar interests to her, I've been seen as cringey for having said interests, and just the way Chris treated autistic people who were formerly diagnosed with A$p3rg3r$ $yndr0m3 (like I was) really made me feel even more alienated.

Also, S1a supports A$ (Autism $p3aks). She's not a very good person to support. Some of her music is good, but her as a person....no. Her movie "Music" was gross, from what I've read about it and seen pictures of.

If you've read this far, thank you so much!

[elphiej]

Be My Light: Chapter 1 Shadows from Our Past

*Pairing: Yoonig X Reader

*Genre: Mafia, angst, eventual smut, slow burn

*Warnings: Language, violence, gun fight, mentions of abuse, mention for drugs. 

Author’s note: Hi everyone, here is chapter one. My editor and I had some conversations about the length; they wanted to shorten it and I wanted to leave it in tact for the sake of the flow. Let me know if the length is too long or not. Also, there are a bunch of easter eggs (bangtan lyrics, iconic outfits, ect. as we continue) let me know what you find. And, of course, thank you for reading and let me know what you liked. 

Tag list: @lalalalaloo-blog​, @bangtan-sonyeonddaeng​, @barbikatherine​, @mrsfortune1306​

The sun had just begun to fill the windows of the Lotus Apartment when you stepped out of your unit, coffee tumbler in one hand and bag slung over one shoulder , ready for a gruelingly long shift at Central Mercy Hospital. You let your eyes scan the corridor for any signs of life; no one else in their right mind would be up this early, yet anxiety had you checking the halls before you felt secure enough to fully exit your apartment. Taking out your keys, you pull your door shut and lock the two deadbolts that had become necessary in your mind.

And not just because of the active gang activity in this part of the city.

It had been close to three months since you had come to Central. And over four since you had left your miserable excuse of a ‘boyfriend’; The lying, abusive snake that was Daniel.  Just thinking about him made your stomach churn. Your time in Central, alone in your apartment, helped you reflect on your relationship and how toxic it had been. At first, it was nice. He had been your friend. He had been supportive and kind. Then, he was your roommate, taking care of you and being your security in uncertain times. Then, he became your boyfriend. It was nice and normal, something you thought you’d never have. He was protective, at least that’s how you saw it at the time. Looking back now, it was controlling and manipulative. He would say things that you thought were sweet, but now you understood they were horrible things. He said he wanted an obedient, good girl; he’d tower over you and make you feel so small. And for some reason, you believed him. You stayed like that for too long. After you had taken a job, trying to help support the two of you, his behavior got worse. He started to drink, and his abuse became more physical. Afterwards, he’d always say how sorry he was, how much he cared about you, or how he only drank because he was worried about you. Somehow it was always your fault. He wanted you to quit your job at a small medical clinic near his secluded home, but it was your only escape. To make it worse, you found out he had been sleeping with another woman. And still, you stayed with him, because he had fucked your head up so bad that you thought you needed him. The final straw that snapped some sense into you was when you confronted him about the other woman. He had come home from drinking with her and went crazy when you said you were leaving. He screamed, threw you around the apartment, hit you. Then he trapped you against a wall and started choking you. Had you not been able to grab hold of a bottle he had left on an end table and hit him just right, you may not have made it this far.                                

You left that night with just your backpack full of clothes and the few personal belongings that you had with you, your cellphone, and the money in Daniel’s wallet. And you ran all through the night. You didn’t have a plan or destination but you just had to get as far away from him as you could. A small voice under all the doubt and fear that he had piled on you, cheered and drove you to keep going.  You didn’t stop moving until you found a bus stop in the middle of nowhere. The driver had told you it was headed to Central, and something in that name seemed familiar to you. It drew you there like a siren’s call. Central was so large, it felt like it could have classified as a country. It was the perfect place to disappear. As the bus pulled into its terminal, that familiar feeling came back in as you gazed about the large buildings. But you chalked that up to remembering that you and your father moved around a lot.

It was one of the few memories you had like that.

Over the last few months, you had questioned why Daniel had changed so much. He had been the first face you remember seeing after the accident. And he had been the one to break the news to you. There had been a terrible accident, a horrendous car crash. You had been in the passenger seat when the car had broadsided by a drunk driver, sending the car rolling into a ditch. You had survived but your injuries were so severe that you had to be placed in a medical coma, and the trauma had affected your memory. When you woke up, you could remember very little of your past; You remembered that you had studied to be a nurse and recently graduated, that your father had been your only family, and that he had been a high ranking police officer. Daniel’s face was something that you sort of remembered as well, and you figured that was why you clung to him like an anchor. But everything else was wrapped in a dense fog, shattered like pieces of glass that couldn’t be put together. Daniel had, also, broken the news to you that your father hadn’t survived the accident. He stayed close to you for over a year, helping you through therapies, reminding you to take your anxiety medications, and wiping away the tears. He was perfect. But then, it changed. And any time you tried to talk to him about it, he would brush you off or say that he was stressed out, but that he loved you and just let him do what he needed.

What was funny was that in the months since leaving him, a piece of a memory had resurfaced. It was of your father and how he didn’t seem to like Daniel all that much. You could only think of what your father would have said when he saw what his daughter had become. You did remember how he had taught you to be strong and tough, to stand up against the bullies. He would be disappointed now. You rubbed your neck where he had choked you, smelling his alcohol pungent breath as he said so many nasty things to you.

But you got out and for that, anyone should be proud.

Shaking your head from the bad memories, you shoved your keys back into your bag and down the dimly lit hall towards the elevator. You felt a tad silly looking over your shoulder, thinking one day he was gonna show up at your door and drag you back to that unsafe mind set, but you had learned from the support group you had been to that it was normal. Thankfully, you were about to have a long shift to distract you from all those feelings. The intensive care unit had been short staffed, and with the increase in gang activity, everyone was working extra hard.  Central Mercy was the most active hospital in all of Central; the others were less willing to help gang members or those targeted for fear of retaliation. But once they came through the ER doors, it didn’t matter what they were. If they needed help, you would help. Even villains need help, and maybe your help can change them, your father’s voice had echoed from somewhere in the foggy parts of your mind. Also, Central Mercy was the main hospital dealing with the current outbreaks of drug overdoses due to a strange street drug known as U4-1A, a highly addictive and deadly substance that had been making its way through the city. Mercy was more equipped for trying to save the overdoses that kept popping up. You had only seen a few of those cases, but the doctors who had been on the front of those, had described it as a mix of “ecstasy, meth, and cocaine all rolled into one deadly substance”. You shook your head. You didn’t understand why people would do that to themselves. But, then again, who would stay with a person who abused you for so long? As you stepped into the small elevator, you really needed a distraction from all these bad thoughts and your best friend, Amber, should be on her way into work by now. You decided to try and text her.  

Bless that girl, she had been a big part in getting you back into a functioning human being. When you had stepped off the bus in Central, you were overwhelmed by everything. You were scared, tired, and had nowhere to go. You had felt so lonely. You ended up falling asleep on a bench just outside the station. That is where Amber had found you. She felt sorry for you and took you to get some food. Once she had heard your story, though, she brought you back to her loft to help you. She had said she was in your position once, but never explained what she had gone through, and wanted to help turn you around. She had got you into therapy, got you to open up, helped you find a job in her department at Mercy, and found the woman you were sure you had been on track to be before the accident had set you back.

You hit the lobby button on the elevator, then reached in your work bag for your phone as the door shut. You felt your umbrella, wallet, extra shirt, and even your lunch, but not the phone. You prayed that you didn’t leave your phone in the apartment in your sleep deprived haze. It wouldn’t be the first time this week that it had happened. Your anti-anxiety medicine had finally run out, even after you spaced them out over the last few weeks. And your mind had refused to shut off and you had been plagued by nightmares all night. Finally, your fingers had brushed against the plastic case of your phone. You let out a sigh of relief. However, when you pulled it out of your bag, you wished you hadn’t. It had been the phone that Daniel had given you, and the one that Amber had been trying to get you to throw away for months. You remembered having a panic attack when she had taken it from you. It had been one of the only things you could call yours. She had returned it to you after messing with the setting. Amber didn’t want to take any chances of him tracking the phone, not that you thought he could think of that, and told you not to respond to him. He had sent a few messages in the first few days; he said he was sorry and how much he loved you, but you did as Amber had asked. There was a small part of you that wanted to reach out, in secret. Thankfully, the logical part of your brain kept you silent. Amber wanted to block his number for good, but you left it as it was. She had given you a new phone not long after so you wouldn’t be tempted. And you hadn’t turned the old phone on since then. It had been stuffed in a bottom drawer, only reappearing now when you had rushed to grab an extra thick undershirt and stuffed it into the bag without realizing it.

The elevator came to a halt and opened to the empty lobby. You knew there wasn’t much time to decide what to do. You needed a phone- a curse of modern society to not be able to go a day without it. If you decided to go back up to retrieve your real phone, you still had to find it from where it had fallen in the chaos of this morning. And by then, you would miss your bus and be late to work. Technically, this was a working phone. You hit the power button; if it turned on, you would just get on with your day. That was your decision. It sprung to life, still with a good amount of power despite how long it had been in that drawer. The home screen had a picture of you and Daniel. It made you cringe at the sight of those smiling faces. But it worked and that would have to work. Amber may not be too happy to see it, but you’d rather deal with her then your supervisor. Plus, you really had no desire to talk or see Daniel.

Though, that small, needy part in the back of your mind was still wondering if he had still reached out to contact you.

You got your answer as you stepped out onto the chilly, lamp lit sidewalk. Your inbox was full of text messages and voicemails. He must have sent two or three a day since you had run away. You couldn’t bring yourself to hear his voice. But, as you head down the sidewalk to your bus stop, you decided to read through a few of them.

-Y/N, I’m sorry. Please call me.

-I know you’re mad. You have every right to. I’m weak and dumb.

-Please, just let me know you’re ok.

-Honey, I love you. I’ll never drink again.  I never meant to hurt you.

-Please let me know you see these.

-You mean so much to me. I’ll do better. I need you.

-Honey, that girl meant nothing. I can’t live with what I did to you.

-Please call me. Yell at me, hit me. Do anything you want, just come back.

His last message came only two days ago.

-Honey, you must be out of your medicine. Please, just let me give that to you. I won’t bother you anymore. We don’t need to get back together. Whatever you want to do, we can do it. Just let me bring it to you. You need it and I care about you. Please, Y/N, I’m sorry. Please, let’s just talk.

               Wow, you thought, he seems really upset. That small part surged forward again, pushing you to respond since he seemed so sincere. But you shook your head. Amber had brought you to a counseling center she volunteered at where a survivors of domestic violence group met. And based on what they had talked about, and his history, you knew it was best to move on. Though, you were basically out of medicine. You didn’t know the name of it, nor had the prescription for it. Daniel had always taken care of it. There was a doctor at Mercy whom you were close with, Henry Na, who had offered to investigate it for you. So, you had given him the last generic, round, white pill. He had offered to prescribe you a basic anxiety medication to help you while he did some research. He had been a big help, just like Amber to getting you to the state of normalcy you had achieved. Hopefully, he had found something for you. You would wait to see what he had to say before making that decision. Or you could talk to Amber and she would slam the stamp of “HELL NO” on that whole thought.

               Not wanting to continue this train of thought, you sent a quick text to your friend to say you were on your way to the bus, then locked your phone and stuck it in the pocket of your scrubs. You were determined to make the most out of this day. Even after a terrible night, you were going to be with your best friend, seeing some of your favorite patients, and being away from your troubles. You just needed to get to the bus stop and out of the chill of the early morning. You pulled your jacket close to your body and quickened your pace. Living at the far end of town, while cheap, had its disadvantages. There was much gang activity in the outskirts, the bus stops were sparse, and all the main shops were a long way away. At least, for the moment. Ahead, you could see the outline of the new shopping center the government had decided to build in hopes to revitalize this part of the city. And while you were excited that you wouldn’t have to go far to get essentials, you hoped it wouldn’t raise your rent anymore. Your bus stop was just beyond the construction. You hoped that today would prove to be just as exciting as the prospects of the new shopping center.

               Little did you know, in the dim light of the dawn, just how exciting your life was about to become.

~*****************~

               If the outside wasn’t foreboding enough, the inside made up for it. It was dark with only a few work lights scattered around the large, open space. There were tall, arching pillars and small openings along the sides that were meant for food stalls, and a large, empty fountain in the center of the concrete floor. Loose wires hung from the unfinished light fixtures, while high scaffoldings and boxed materials were randomly spaced about. A cold breeze swept through the open doorways, sending dust and debris swirling about Bangtan’s feet as they took echoing steps towards the elevator at the end of the floor. Above them, there were large cut outs in the floor so patrons would peer down at those below, all in interesting and modern designs. Once it was finished, it would be very fancy and high-end, the complete juxtaposition to the traditional and family owned buildings around it. It didn’t belong there.

               Just like we don’t belong here, Suga thought as his eyes wondered about the dim area. Jimin was beside him, the sparse lights glittering off the studded shoulders of his leather bomber jacket. His face was sharp and serious, his eyes constantly moving behind his rose-colored glasses. And Jungkook was trailing behind, dragging the poorly trained spy with him. The bound and blindfolded kid had fought against the maknae’s grip as soon as they entered the construction zone, screaming unintelligently against the gag. It took a good smack on the back of the head and a threat of “knock it off before I knock you out” before he stilled and allowed Jungkook to lead him around. He, even, made an annoyed promise that he would not let him stumble or fall until they turned him over to his team.

               V’s voice rang through the earpiece Suga wore, telling him where to go. The elevator would take them to the top floor, opening to a reception area. And beyond that was the event hall where Choi and his group of assholes were waiting for them. V didn’t see anyone on any other floors, which meant that their passage should be safe. Just as a normal drop should be. But Suga knew that it wasn’t going to be normal. With each step, the uneasy feeling grew. With the confirmation of the General’s presence, old feelings from the past made Suga even more on edge. But he hid it from his younger members. He figured this was a trap; he and RM had talked every conclusion out. They just needed to get in and out as fast as possible. V had set some helpful distractions up if they needed a quick getaway. But all Suga was focused on was dealing with Choi and keeping his dongsaengs safe. He took out his cell and texted a quick update to the leader.

               “This place is huge! I didn’t realize it when V and I came here before. Let’s make sure we come back when it’s finished. Something this fancy looking is bound to have a Gucci store,” Jimin said, trying to ease the mood a bit. He brushed a bit of dust from his white Gucci shirt to highlight his point.

               “I feel between the two of you, you have enough Gucci in your closets to open your own store,” Jungkook replied, though he had his own collection of name brands to rival theirs.

               Suga gave little response as they reached the elevator. RM had texted him back, saying what they already knew; Get in, get out, and be safe. The leader had added ‘try not to antagonize him too much, hyung’. Suga had a gift of speech, known to the others as his ‘Tongue Technology’. He could talk circles arounds even the most versed debaters, and knew exactly what to say to break someone down. If he had ever decided to pursue a career in music, all of Bangtan was sure he’d be a master at diss tracks. When Jin had captured the spy, Suga barely warmed up before the kid broke from fear. And while he knew he should do as his leader asked, Yoongi knew that if Choi opened his mouth, he’d find it extremely hard not to challenge him. As all four crowded into the elevator, he slipped his phone back into the pocket of his red coat and hit the top floor button. Jimin had started cracking his fingers and stretching out his limbs just in case he needed to be ready. Jungkook seemed to be bouncing on his heels with anticipation. A black face mask was resting under his chin. Suga reached over and pulled it up over the young maknae’s nose. He reached up, after, and fixed his black hat to hide most of his face. Jungkook was the only one of their members who Choi hadn’t seen face to face, making him the safest when he walked around barefaced. The boy had been quite young when he had joined them, and each meeting before the Generals had disappeared, Jungkook’s identity had been hidden. And Suga meant to keep it that way. Jungkook smiled at the action and nodded a ‘thanks’ to his hyung.

               “Just stay behind us until the trade is made. Block the door. And keep your face hidden. We don’t need Choi knowing who you are, got it?”

               Jungkook nodded again, tucking some of his hair behind his ear.

               The elevator came to a halt as it reached the seventh floor and the doors slid open. It opened to a finished reception hall with an ornate, marble desk at the end near the large, double doors. Compared to the rest of the building, this was practically finished. The floor had a mirror finish, there was a small chandelier above the desk, and the walls were painted with a dark contrast to the white marbled floors. As they stepped off the elevator, a strange crackle sounded through the piece in Suga’s ear. With each step, it got louder. He could see the small red light from the CC camera that V had placed under the edge of the desk. He knew V had been monitoring them, as well as the Royals, and he tapped the earpiece to signal V something was off. He could hear the young man under the roar of the static typing away at his keyboard, letting out a few curses. The roar got louder and louder the closer they got to the doors.

               “Hyung-…. Sug-…. Can you…” static “Wait they…. With them! Plea-…” static “Get-,” then a piercing noise overtook everything, and Suga ripped the earpiece from his ear. From what little he heard from V, and the tone he was using, whatever he was trying to say wasn’t good. Jimin and Jungkook looked at him, questioningly. It was clear that something wrong was just beyond those doors. But they were already too far to turn around. The Royals must have heard the elevator’s chime and their footsteps as they came up to the door. If they fled now, it would only be worse later. Suga gave a reassuring nod to his dongsaengs and turned towards the door. Jimin took his position beside him, a hand on his hip to give off the air of sass that his gang persona was known for. Jungkook pulled the spy close to him as he positioned himself behind them, eyes glowing with strength and determination.

               And then, Suga kicked the double doors wide open.

               The solid oak doors slammed against the inner walls of the large room with a big bang. Just as the lobby, it was practically finished, save for the large crates of fancy décor, some unfinished lights, some high work platforms, and a good polishing. The floor was the same marble and dark finished wall combination as the lobby, with large Roman pillars that gave the room a grand and expensive feel. There were high windows that lined one side of the room, showcasing a large section of downtown as it was bathed in the warm light of the dawn. Further into the space, two high metal scaffoldings had been constructed, high enough for someone to walk under and for painters to reach the vaulted ceiling in order to finish the commissioned watercolor piece; one was just beyond the double doors while the other was against the opposite wall at the far end of the room near the emergency exit. In the center of the room, surrounded by work lights, appeared to be a diamond shaped dance floor. There was a worktable there.

               And sitting at the table was Choi. He stood out against the sea of black suited goons with his silver fur coat. Choi always had an air of intensity about him, especially when he caught you in a stare down. He was like a cobra; smooth, unpredictable, and ready to strike without warning. When Suga had first met the General, he had overseen the breaking in of the new “recruits”. And the look he gave was enough to warn the kids to beware his wrath. Choi leaned forward on his elbows; his tented, gloved fingers pressed against his lips. His crazed eyes tracked Bangtan as they sauntered into the room, stopping just before the first scaffolding so to keep some distance between the two rivals. The one holding his spy stopped behind the other two. He tsked in disappointment.

               “Nice of you boys to show up,” he greeted in his deep, gravel voice. “I appreciate that you agreed to come to our location. Times have been tough for my troops, and this makes them feel more at ease.”

               “Safe it, Choi,” Suga said, his tone even but methodical, “I don’t need you to put on this little act of yours. You’re not doing this for your guys. At least own up to the fact that you don’t want to follow the Accords.”

               Choi made an amused noise. “Ah, Agust, I have missed that lip of yours.”

               Out of the corner of Jimin’s eyes, he watched as Suga slid into Agust, a second persona Yoongi had developed in the early years before Bangtan. Suga was cold and intimidating, methodical and quiet. Agust was the opposite. He was more aggressive, ready to set the world ablaze; where Suga was the bulletproof vest, Agust was the machine gun and ready to pop off at whoever provoked him. While Suga liked to take his time, his second persona didn’t want to. The shift was subtle, but Jimin had seen the wicked smile appear across his lips as he cocked his head to the side, spilling his platinum blond hair across his eyes. Agust seemed to vibrate with mischievous energy. Jimin hadn’t seen this side of his hyung in an exceptionally long time; only people from Bangtan’s past knew of Agust or he hadn’t been pushed that far to bring out the wildcard. However, he knew Choi had a way of bringing the worst out in them. This would be interesting.

               “Oh, I missed you too, Choi. But don’t worry, my aim is much better now. Can we just do this shit? I have better things to do and you are not one of them.”

               The amused look on Choi’s face slipped. “Such disrespect for your sunbaenim. This is why I requested your leader. He seems to have taken my lessons better than you.”

               “Sorry,” Agust pouted, bringing up his hands in a mocked apology, “but my leader has better things to do than play with a flea infested bitch like you. Wait, that was an insult to dogs.”

               Jungkook was happy he had a mask on to hide his grin; he always enjoyed when Yoongi-hyung fell into Agust; it didn’t happen much these days unless he was extremely angry or overly stressed. So, this was a treat to see Agust tearing into Choi like he knew his hyung had always wanted to do when he was younger.

               Agust continued, his eyes glowing with annoyance. “Seriously, can we move this along? We have your little spy here, all safe and sound. We even fed him, which is more than you could do. Let’s do this exchange before I get more annoyed. It’s past my Maknae’s bedtime and he’s gonna be cranky later.”

               Jimin couldn’t hold back his laugh at that point. That drew Choi’s attention. A gleam appeared in Choi’s eyes that, even from that distance, Jimin didn’t like.

               “Now I wasn’t expecting to see you, Sweet One. It’s been a while since we last met. How have you been doing? Had your fix recently?”

               Jimin only glared behind his glasses, his hands clenched in a fist. He took a deep breath and tried to block him out.

               Choi stood up and moved to the front of the table. “What, nothing to say? I missed that voice of yours. So sweet and addictive. You know, sometimes I can still hear your sweet moans and gasps echoing through my memories. Begging and pleading, so needy and desperate. Makes me wish I had taken a chance with you when I had the opportunity. I can see you’re shaking from here. I have what you need, baby. I can help you feel all better. You just need to come over and ask for it. I can take good care of that itch of yours. I’d love to hear how loud your moans can get now.”

               Jimin felt something in him snap. He went to rush him, fist cocked back, ready to shut the bastard up. Suga threw out an arm in front of him before he could take a step. The look he gave Jimin told him to let him handle Choi. RM had asked Suga not to cause too much trouble. And since Agust had already made an appearance, he couldn’t risk Jimin starting something. Even if Choi deserved whatever Jimin had planned to do for bringing up such a dark part of their past. Suga’s reassuring hand gave Jimin a slight push behind him, which the younger man begrudgingly allowed.

               “Seems like you’ve become the responsible one, Agust. Perhaps you’ve gone soft on me, despite the bite. Fine, we should get down to business. But first thing is first; lets make sure that you followed the rules I sent to your leader. No weapons were to be brought with you. Chen, Yao,” he called over his shoulder, “search them.”

               The two suits stepped away from the pack and crossed over to Bangtan. Suga nodded to Jimin, who made his way to stand next to Jungkook in order to keep the spy between them as they were searched. The guards started with Jungkook, then Jimin. They searched Suga last. Both guards ran their hands through clothes, dipping into each pocket. So, of course, they found the small pocketknife Yoongi had slipped into the inner pocket of his red coat. Chen fixed the smaller male with a look, which was received with a nonchalant shrug. Chen was not amused by the gesture and grabbed him by his blond hair, yanking his head back. Agust grabbed hold of Chen’s wrist, twisting it as hard as he could before spitting in the thug’s face. Yao rose his fist to punch him, only to be stopped by Jimin, who had appeared next to him. Agust was intimidating on his own, but the look that Jimin transfixed on them was enough to send a message. Both suits backed away from the two before things got any worse.

               “Agust,” Choi remarked as his guards returned to their space, “how disappointing. Do you see, boys? They have no respect for us. They bring a weapon to a tradeoff. And when scolded for breaking the rules, he acts like a wild animal. They don’t even have the decency to dress professionally. Instead of business attire, we are presented with ripped jeans, flashy and cheap clothes-,”

               “Hey, I wore designer labels to this,” Jimin interrupted.

               “And the one in the back,” Choi continued, “look at how they teach their Maknae. Black cargo pants, hoodie, and wearing a mask and hat. Like he’s going to a club instead of meeting with his betters. Take that off and let me get a better look at you, boy! The least you can do is give me a proper greeting.”

               “Leave my Maknae alone.” Agust took a few steps forward, stepping into the primary focus. “He’s protecting himself from all the bullshit you keep spitting. You don’t need to see him for us to do this. Stop stalling. Where’s your goods? We took good care of your little rat. Now put up or shut up.”

               “You keep demonstrating how low you can be, Agust. Do you think you’ll become as successful as us acting like a classless thug?”

               Agust shrugged, tapping his long finger against his cheek. “I’m not sure about the secret to success. But I think I know the secret to failure and being an idiot. And that is to keep babbling like you. I’m really starting to lose my patients with you. Show me the fucking trade, else I’m leaving with your spy and I’ll do whatever I want to with him.”

               Choi nodded to one of his suits. They pulled out a suitcase and opened it. It was full of cash and ammunition boxes. “Satisfied with that, Agust? It’s way more than his life is worth. But recruitment has been slow recently. However, before we trade, I need an apology.”  

               “For what, your appearance? You need to take that up with your parents,” Agust sneered, causing Jimin and Jungkook to start chuckle.

               Choi slammed the case shut. “I’m over your bad attitude! You have disrespected me enough today. You show me respect, or I will demonstrate how I used to deal with you.” Choi reached around and brandished his ornate cane, smacking it against his hand. “You remember what I used to do to you. Now, apologize to me!”

               “Alright, I’m sorry. Don’t get angry. Your mom will be upset if you lose your only asset- your health,” Agust mocked with a small bow, causing Jimin and Jungkook to laugh. The shocked expression from some of the suits added fuel to the fire.

               Choi’s face took on a red shade. “Enough,” he screamed, his voice shattering against the empty walls, “You may appear brave and bold, but I know what you hide behind that smile, son!”

               Agust took another step forward, unafraid by his little outburst. “If I’m the sun,” he said, pointing out the windows at the rising light, “then you are the moon; as I rise, you go down. Though, I’m sure I’m going to be more disappointed in your tongue technology than your cohorts are with mine.” The roar of laughter from behind him only increased and sent Choi further into a rage. He lunged at Agust and swung his cane.

               Suga’s hands were almost as fast as his tongue; he grabbed hold of the cane before it could strike him. He pulled his face close to the General’s, his eyes cold and serious.

               “I am not that scared little boy you locked in the dark. I will show you that I’m the king here. I’m the boss. And you will end up just like your vile, worthless Maknae.”

               “You’ve gotten strong in my absence,” the taller man remarked as he tried to pull away from Suga’s grip. The younger held tight for a second before giving him a hard shove back towards his team. Choi took a grounding breath and ran a gloved hand through his frosted hair. “Remember Agust, our Maknae acted on his own. Against his boss’s plan. And you got your revenge on him for that. He damned himself, not his hyungs.  Don’t keep using that to fuel your hate.”

               “I have plenty without that.” Suga turned and walked back to his team. “I’m done playing with you. Slide that case over here. We’ll leave your man here as we exit out the door. And we will call this done.”

               Choi shot a dark glare at the blond’s back, before waving a dismissive hand at him, accepting that he wasn’t going to get anything he wanted from the younger man. He gave a nod to the suit holding the case, who slid the case across the floor. Jimin stopped it with his foot before picking it up. He thought it felt lighter than he expected it to, but the want to leave outweighed his curiosity; he was still pissed about what Choi had said to him. He turned his back to the room and made after Yoongi.

               Suddenly, Choi’s soft laughter filled the room. Yoongi remembered that laughter; the General had used it when he knew something they did not. Bangtan’s Second in command looked over his shoulder to see that Choi had a small remote in his hand. With a press, the double doors swung shut automatically. Panic rose within Bangtan. They were trapped! Jimin opened the case in his hands and discovered it was full of fake bills and empty ammunition boxes. Everything was a set up. Choi must have figured that they would have a surveillance too, and made it so he couldn’t communicate with V once they got to the meeting spot. Yoongi hoped that he hadn’t thought about a camera hidden within the room. Since V had been trying to tell him something before their communication was severed, he must have eyes in the room, at least enough to know he needed to get to them fast. Jungkook tightened his hold upon the spy, as if it was their only protection. He shot Suga a look. The elder shifted his eyes between both of his comrades, deep, stormy eyes narrowed in defensive thought. He had thought of this; he had many plans unraveling in his mind. Now, it was all a matter of finding the best one in order to get them out of there. The only unknown factor was Choi. Suga motioned for the two to keep calm as he turned back to the General.

               “Honestly, Agust, did you really believe it would be that simple? That I would let you come in, disrespect me and my troops, and walk out of here like you’re the one in charge? After all that you and your little boy scout brigade has done. I was hoping to send a little message when I scratched up that smiling fool of yours. And yet, your leader couldn’t grasp that and sent you right into my hands. It should had been obvious that you weren’t going to get out without a struggle. There is no Hallowed ground here. You are in my territory with a member of mine that, for what anyone would see, you have kidnapped. Therefore, I can have my fun without any fear from the Accords and their rules.”

               Jimin growled, “Since when do you care about the Accords? You already drew us here under false pretenses.”

               “They’re not entirely false. As I said, you have my recruit,” Choi remarked, his voice in a mocked tone of concern. “He was given such an easy task. And he couldn’t even do that correctly. It would see that some more training is in order.”

               Jungkook felt the kid in his grasp cringe and bury himself deeper into his hold. It was painfully clear that the kid had no choice in this life, much like most of members in the room. And from the stories he had heard from his hyungs, Jungkook was sure this kid had been treated much better in their care than anything in the Royals clutches. It wasn’t up to the Maknae, but he wondered if it was too late to try and take the kid with them.

               “As you know,” Choi continued, “recruitment has been difficult on me. And all the rookies have little to no talent when it comes to the finer arts of the trade. They would benefit from some more one on one training. How do you think we can achieve this?”

               “Well, when Ji just up and leaves like the coward he is and leaves his most useless General in charge, seems like a daunting task for you. Might as well just give up and disband,” Suga said in his methodical tone, causing Choi and the Suits to actively flinch at the mention of their leader’s real name said so offhandedly.

               “Don’t you dare say his name! I will make you regret that. And you’ll be the example for my new recruits. Like I said, my boys don’t do well with their basic training back at the compound. They need some ‘on the job’ training, some action in the field. And what better place then here. Since we are not on Hallowed Ground, we can let them play a little rough. What a splendid opportunity for all of us; they get to have a real experience and you get a few broken bones to send a message to anyone who thinks that they are above the Royals in the food chain. Do me a favor, Bangtan, and don’t give up to fast.”

               With that last smirk, Choi settled himself back against the table and snapped his fingers. Four of the Suits smirked and started to cross the room towards Bangtan. Jimin looked over at Suga. The steely member gave a sharp nod and Jimin pushed some of his honey locks out of his hair with a dark glint in his eyes. He heard Suga tell the youngest to ‘stay put’ as he set off at the advancing Suits. Out of Bangtan, Jimin was known as one of their best fighters. He had studied many different styles and always perfected his craft; from judo and taekwondo to kendo and target shooting, he was regarded amongst most gangs in Central as the most skilled. Jimin was, also, a well-versed dancer, having studied since he was a child. And that control and flexibility of his body only aided him when he decided to show off just why he was well known. As he was still seething with anger from Choi’s words, he decided to take out that frustration on whoever came near him. Jimin took off like a bullet and launched himself up to grab a high bar on the bottom side of the scaffolding. Using his momentum, he swung himself up towards the closest Suit, catching the young man off guard as Jimin wrapped his toned legs around the taller man’s neck. Before the Suit could recover from the surprise, Jimin let go of the bar and arched back into a backbend. Using his lower body strength, he pulled the victim over and down the ground with a loud thud. The shock knocked the air from the Suit and Jimin sent a sharp punch to the throat, to keep him down.

               A yell from another Suit brought Jimin’s eyes up. He got up and tackled the second. The new opponent was sturdier on his feet than the first, easily keeping himself upright and throwing Jimin back. Jimin recovered quickly; he ran to one of the supportive, vertical legs of the scaffolding, grasping hold and using it to spin himself back to the Suit, his heels colliding with the goon’s chest. The Suit stumbled back, chest heaving. Jimin didn’t give him much chance to recover; he was instantly back in his range, throwing punches and sweeping kicks towards the taller man. Being as flexible as he was, Jimin had no issues dodging and sliding under the Suit’s attempt at a comeback. While the bastard was strong and aggressive, he lacked speed and foresight. And Jimin had much of that. They had been backed further along the scaffolding towards it’s beginning, moving rhythmically around the bars and legs. The Suit had managed to grab Jimin by the collar of his studded jacket as he tried to get behind him and threw him face first into the ladder that lead to the top of the scaffolding. He clung to bar for a moment, feeling his lip start to bleed and his head ringing from the sudden impact. He could hear the asshole let out a laugh before charging at him. Just as the Suit was able to connect his jab to the back of Jimin’s head, the smaller blond side stepped him, and let the Suit’s hand make a cracking impact with the metal bars. Jimin got behind him and wrapped his arm around the man’s neck, squeezing as hard as he could. The other man thrashed against his grip, but his windpipe was being crushed. The Suit slipped onto his knees as his vision started to dot. And Jimin took the opportunity to release the Suit’s throat and use his knee to hit him in the nose. Blood spattered over the dark denim as the Suit screamed in pain. He was silenced when Jimin elbowed him in the back of the head. After the man fell unconscious, Jimin ran his hands through his hair and adjusted the rose-colored glasses that had managed to stay on his face.    

               While Suga wasn’t as graceful as Jimin when it came to fighting, he was able to hold his own with the rest of them. He was scrappier, more calculative in his actions. The remaining two Suits had come at him at the same time. And just like Jimin, he used his height to his advantage, easily dodging under the sweeping arms of the two. The closest Suit had backed Suga up against one of the Roman pillars with his advancing punches, his back flushed against the cold stone. The bastard set an upper cut, which Suga caught and turned back upon its owner. He looked over the goon’s shoulder to see the second had a picked up a crowbar. Oh, fantastic.  The second Suit raised the bar and brought it down in a hard motion, only to hit his own comrade when Suga grabbed the first one and used him as a shield. The goon swung again and Yoongi moved behind the pillar just as it made contact, sending dust flying into the air. When he came back around, he caught hold of the bar with both hands and struggled to push back against the brute’s strength. The first one had recovered from the hit and caught him from behind, locking his arms around the thin gang member’s body. Suga threw his head back and knocked against the Suit but his grip only tightened. He struggled hard as the second guy advanced on him again. Thinking fast, he brought his legs up and kicked the second Suit hard in the chest, sending him to the ground. He thrashed harder against the taller man behind him. He was swung around until Suga saw the white pillar in front of him. He ran up high enough on the pillar and kicked back with all his strength, sending him and the Suit to the marble floor. The arms around his chest loosened enough to slip one out of the hold and use a reverse elbow strike to the goon’s face, hard enough to send him to the very edge of consciousness. Suga scrambled up to his feet as the second Suit barreled at him; he moved just enough to grab ahold of the Suit’s jacket and propel him into the pillar. Suga grabbed hold of the Suit’s shaved head and slammed it as hard as he could into the pillar as many times as it took until the guy slumped down, blood decorating the white stone. Taking a deep breath, he turned back towards the General, smirked before giving the Suit at his feet a good kick to the stomach.

               “That all you got, you son of a bitch?” Agust was out of breath, but still had enough snark in his voice to fill the room. “You couldn’t teach them how to fight their way out of a paper bag. I didn’t even need to bring out my tank over there,” he pointed at Jungkook, who smiled behind his mask and gave a little wave. “What were they supposed to do again? Teach me a lesson? Make me into the example to what happens when your fragile self-worth is questioned. If that’s how you teach your boys to fight, you should change your profession because your ability to make yourself look like an idiot is extraordinary. Your title should be ‘Moron Extraordinaire’ instead of ‘Washed-up Mafia Kingpin’. What you want to throw at me, now? Clearly, we can take you. And when I get out of here, you can guarantee that it’s going to be open season on you. I don’t care if your punk ass leader decides to show his fucking face. I’ll gladly spit in it and let him know how this little ‘bapsae’ took his place.”

               Choi looked down at the Suits, most of whom were still unconscious at Bangtan’s feet. His eyes flicked up to meet Suga’s cold stare. He gave a deep sigh and shrugged the fur coat from his shoulders.

               “Oh Agust, I really do wish one of my men had the foresight to break your jaw. That way I wouldn’t have to hear you anymore. I’m growing tired of this game. I would have hoped you would’ve gone down easier. It would have boosted the moral of the boys instead of their medical bill. Guess we are going to have to do this the old fashion way.”

               Choi reached behind his suit jacket and brandished a chrome revolver. Behind him, the rest of his guys pulled out theirs and pointed them at Bangtan. Jungkook’s doe eyes seemed to get bigger as he took in the site before him. Jimin looked concerned as well, but tried to keep it internalized so not to feed their egos; his eyes were darting across the room, looking for places to shield himself should shoots be fired. Suga refused to break eye contact with Choi. The older General gave at laugh at the fronted courage. He cocked the gun and raised it eye level.

               “I have wanted to do this for a long time. When I was away, I had dreams of shooting you right between those cold eyes and wiping that fucking smile off that face. I remember when my brothers and I brought you under our wing; we had high hopes for you if we could break you. But you are just as stubborn as the rest of your ragtag crew. I hope your efforts were worth it in your mind.”

               Choi’s finger moved towards the trigger. And Suga didn’t move, just stared him down. Before Choi could pull it, a loud gun shot rang out in the space! And a bullet hit Choi’s weapon and sent it ricocheting across the marble floor. Choi spun around, looking for the source of the shot. Suga let out a breath he didn’t realize he had held. Jimin rushed to his side, eyes searching for an explanation, as if Yoongi had some how done something. But the second-in-command was just as shocked; his eyes darted about the room, just as the Royals were making a commotion looking for the phantom gun.

               A deep chuckle filled the space, bouncing off the shadowed walls that made it seem like it was coming from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. “Stop going on about ‘effort’ and more ‘effort’,” the deep voice commanded. “It’s makes my skin crawl when you say things like that.”

               Drawn by the voice, Suga finally caught a glimpse of a black leather jacket and red pants perched atop the second scaffolding behind the Royals on the opposite wall. V was squatted on top of the platforms, gazing down upon the scene like a gargoyle, one elbow resting against his knee. The other arm was stretched out with his emerald green gun held tight in his grasp. Suga was half impressed that V had hit his intended target; the other half was annoyed he had taken that chance.

               “About time you decided to show your face,” Suga remarked. “What, did you take the scenic route?”

               “Sorry Suga-hyung,” V responded, his voice like black velvet. “They scrambled my signal so I couldn’t contact you. Not even on your phone. And, of course, I had the guys at the cars to deal with. By the way,” he moved his steely eyes to Choi, “your henchmen weren’t a fan of my ‘Vante’ mark on your tacky car. So I left them giftwrapped in the trunk. They didn’t play nice so they’re a bit bruised. Hope that’s ok.”

              ��V brought his hand up to flash his signature ‘V’ sign and winked at Choi. The General just stared back at him, his gaze disbelieving and furious. Then, he turned to his Suits.

               “Unbelievable,” he said, the hand V had shot the gun out of balling into a shaky fist, “the empire I helped create is being spit upon. And its members are just letting this bunch of misfits walk all over them. This isn’t even all of them! You are supposed to be the most feared, strong, aggressive men of the Mafia families. But you let a pretty boy, a shadow, a whore, and a foul-mouthed baepsae fuck you over time and time again?! I should just shoot you all myself for being so useless! Do you know what’s going to happen if you continue to let the Royal’s name drag in the filth of these fuckers?! I will make sure every single one of you begs for death before I’m finished! Is that what you want? Or are you going to do something about it?!”

               “Whoa, watch that temper, Big Boss,” V said, while smacking on a piece of gum. “Your face is turning a bright shade of red. It’s clashing with your suit. Not a good look for someone of your age.”

               Choi had had enough; he gave a sharp order to Chen who whipped out his revolver from a hidden hoister. He raised it at rapid speed and took aim at V. But while Chen was fast, someone was faster. A loud shot sounded from behind them, and the bullet cut across the captain’s arm. His arm spasmed at the contact and dropped his gun before he could even move to the trigger. Choi whirled around, eyes wild and enraged. Behind Suga and Jimin, both of whom were wearing a smug smile, was the shadow who Choi had dismissed, still holding their hostage in front of him. Jungkook had his arm balanced against the hostage’s shoulder, with his metallic purple handgun on full display. Even with his face hidden behind a mask, all could tell he had a triumphant grin spread across his lips.

               Choi grabbed his captain by the arms, uncaring of the bleeding wound his hands covered. “I told you to search them for weapons! Can you not do one thing I ask?!

               “I did, Boss! I swear,” Chen cried as Choi fingers dug further into his gunshot wound.

               It was Suga’s turn to let out a bemused noise, letting his head loll to one side. His hands came to rest on his hips, and he clicked his tongue in a disappointed fashion. “Oh Choi, you think you’re the smartest person in the room. You think you’re the only one with secrets. See, we’re not as naïve as you like to believe. We have the genius leader after all. We planned for every eventuality you could think of. You’re not as slick as you boost yourself up to be. But we played our part well to make you believe that, didn’t we? Since your boys lack the brains to think of creative methods beyond your orders, I’ll let you in on my little secret. Your boys did search us – they didn’t check your little rat.”

               As quick as he brandished his own piece, Jungkook pulled Jimin’s and Suga’s weapon from under the rat’s oversized sweatshirt and tossed it to them. Jimin’s was a polished gold, while Suga’s was a studded black gun. Both caught their respective piece as if they had rehearsed the moment. Now, they had four barrels pointed at the Royals. Bangtan was outgunned, but they were widely known for their accuracy and body count. That reputation alone was enough to worry the newer Suits. Suga’s cold stare drilled into the General as he held is gun steady.

               “Even after all your shit, Choi, I’ll let you decide how we do this; either let us walk out like nothing happened or we start shooting. You’re already down a few men,” Suga said, motioning to the four men still on the ground from their earlier rumble, either still unconscious or too scared to sit up. “Do you really want to risk losing more? After all this, I can’t guarantee that we won’t hit anything vital like with Chen there. So what’s it gonna be, Jackass?”

               Choi stared at the younger man; his face was blank and unreadable. Suga wondered if he was going to have to repeat himself, or if they could use that silence to back away before anything happened. But then, a crazed look appeared in the General’s eyes and a wicked smirk cracked his face. He gave a shrug of his broad shoulders before taking a step back behind his Suits.

               Then, he snapped his fingers.

               The Royals opened fire with an onslaught of bullets. Bangtan scattered behind whatever cover was closest. Jungkook pulled his hostage behind a large crate and shoved him to the ground, ordering the kid to  ‘stay down and don’t move if you want to live to see adulthood’; he had protected the kid so far, he wasn’t gonna let him get shot for a stupid reason. The poor kid was too scared to do anything but shake and do as he was ordered. Jungkook leaned around the box and fired a few shots to try and cover for V. The gray-haired boy was running across the scaffolding, yelling out ‘one shot- two shots’ as he fired down into the Suits. He vaulted from edge of the platform and scampered behind one of the pillars where Jimin had shielded himself with. The smaller Bangtan member was an impressive shot and was managing to keep the Suits from advancing upon him. Suga was across from them, behind another pillar. From his position, it was difficult to get a clear shot at anyone and he was pinned down behind it. There was a crate a few feet from him that would give him a better vantage point to lay out the Royals. It would be a bonus if he would break down the human shield Choi had surrounded himself with, and stain that blue suit of his. Running away from the pillar into the sea of smoke and ammunition, he rapid-fired at the Suits, hearing at least one of the Suits call that he had been hit. Jimin and V were moving to a new cover, alternating cover shots over each other’s shoulders. Suga knew they needed to get out of there; no matter how good of a shot they were, they would run of bullets before the Royals would. He needed a plan, and fast. He looked behind him at the door Choi had rigged; there was a red light from the mechanical device that had shot and locked the door. The lobby had some decorative things that they could use to bar the door once he could destroy the mechanism. There were the emergency stairs just behind the Royals that they could use if they could keep their distance. Or both to split up the group.

               Behind him, Jungkook had slid a new round of ammunition into his gun that V had slid to him. He had moved from the very back of the room closer to the rest of his team. One of the Suits came running at him from along the side of the room. He easily showed him why they referred to him as Bangtan’s tank; he blocked the Suit’s punch before pistol whipping him, sending two strong jabs at his gut, and a final uppercut that sent the suit falling backward and his gun flying from his hand. Jungkook easily caught it in his empty hand and sent double the shots at the rest of the Royals. He ducked behind another set of boxes and looked to Suga.

               Three more Suits had been hit and were scrambling for cover. Those still shooting had changed weapons and released a new spray of bullets that pinned Bangtan where they were. Choi stood in the middle of it, almost as if he were a statue, with a confident grin still on his lips. He gave an order for the Suits to advance. Suga knew they needed to get out now. He rose up and fired, hitting two Suits and bringing them down. He gave a signal to Jungkook to come to him. The Maknae rushed over, both guns firing and keeping the Royals ducking for cover. Suga looked over his shoulder at the other two and called out. He gave a pointed look to the door and V followed his gaze. They had all worked together long enough to not need much to understand what the other needed to say. V looked back and nodded, knowing Suga meant for them to leave that way on his signal. Jungkook laid down some cover as the blond turned from the battle and fired four shots at the mechanism, destroying it. He turned back to see Choi look stunned at his actions, before ordering his men on.

               Suga grabbed Jungkook and leaned close. “Get to the back stairs. I’ll cover you and be right behind you.” He looked behind and called out to Jimin and V, “Get to the car! If we’re not there, just drive. We’ll meet up at the safe zone!”

               V and Jimin nodded and took off towards the double doors, Jimin kicking them wide open before V turned and slammed them shut behind them. Choi yelled out for a few men to follow them. Three of the men who had lost in their hand-to-hand battle with Bangtan, jumped up from their positions on the floor and ran towards the closed doors. They pushed against it but it was wedged closed. The blond smiled, knowing V had thought of the same things he had about securing the door to help give them time to get away. It held just long enough for the two to escape the lobby. Suga gave Jungkook a shove and the young man took off around the outskirts of the room towards the emergency door in the back of the room. Shots continued to whiz by him as he ducked and weaved between pillars and boxes, having a few close calls as he neared the back end of the room. Suga trailed behind him, pausing at each cover to fire back at the Royals. He managed to bring down two more of the Royals before he ran out of bullets. Jungkook finished the clip in the stolen gun and threw it, hard, at an advancing Suit, nailing him in the side of the head. Chen, still bleeding from his arm but determined to win favor from Choi again, had seen where Jungkook and Suga were heading and stood in front of the door. Jungkook ran at the captain and got locked in a hand-to-hand fight. Chen was one of the few present to offer a challenge to the Maknae, even injured. Chen grabbed one of Jungkook’s fists, as he went in for a cross jab, and twisted the young man’s arm behind him. Jungkook twisted, trying to get his arm free, but Chen held tight. So, he shoved them both backwards until the captain’s back slammed against the wall, throwing his head back to crack against the taller man. Chen let go, and the two were back to exchanging punches, jabs, and dodges.

               Suga was almost to Jungkook when, from the corner of his eyes, he saw Choi moving towards one of his new recruits, one who was a terrible shot. The General snatched his gun from the Suit’s hand and rose it. And it was aimed at Jungkook in a fatal angle. The Maknae was trapped with Chen and couldn’t see what Choi had planned. Suga cursed and ran. Everything happened too fast.

               Jungkook had landed a sharp punch to Chen’s face, causing the captain to stumble back stunned.

               Choi fired the weapon with a clear target.

               Jungkook noticed Choi, as Suga shoved him out of the way.

[planetchii]

THE MEGA NICHIASA SHITPOSTING REPORT

NOW WITH THAT GREAT 2 WEEK LATE TASTE

Tropical Rouge, Culture Festival! Everyone Together, Let's Put Make-Up On Aozora!: The Tropical girls are getting ready for the best time of the year: The cultural festival. And in true Tropical Fashion, the girls decided to hold make-up classes for all visitors. But while planning just the right make-up to teach the novice children and grown adults, Laura gets suspicious that Minori is looking over to her ex, the Literature Club. I mean, when you up and disappear into the library, it's kinda hard to not think that you're looking for an escape route. But it's fine because they totally have enough people to help with the make-up classes. As long as Minori stays in the clubhouse.

That being said, distancing yourself from the rest of the group isn't very cool, Minori. Now you have a suspicious smug fish being all suspicious. And being a detective. And asking questions. A lot of questions. And she would ask even more questions if Manatsuu and the Smug Fish Laura's homeroom booth wasn't short-staffed because the kids with that shift decided to get an early head start on getting their Yaruki power stolen.

Meanwhile, the Lazy Trio has clocked into work, and Chongiri drew the short straw today. Guys, he just wants to cook. He wasn't trained for this. And he certainly wasn't trained for being kidnaped by a bunch of martial artists to run their grilled squid booth. Even if it's the most fun that he's had. At least right up until the point where he remembered he was still on the clock. At least everyone is busy.

I mean, really busy: Sango is still teaching people how to put on lipstick properly, and Asuka is trying to make sure no one cuts the line. The only one who the Broadcast Club could interview for the Tropical Club was Minori. Who turns out to be a secret master of the make-up arts.

The lesson the monster should have taken away was don't touch books. Books are supposed to bring people joy. I feel like I've heard that before. It also turns out that the reason Minori left the Literature Club is because her sempai quite literally read The Great Book and that story was already written, and therefore boring and too familiar and unoriginal. Again, I feel like I've heard this before. But that's okay because Minori's stronger with the Sword of Logos Tropical Club.

Reviving A Legend! The Pretty Cure's Power-Up Makeover!: After getting the results of a contest that the girls were not aware they were part of, The Tropical Club finds out that they came in second in the "hey, this booth is pretty cool" contest. Everyone is so excited that even Kururun even has to say something in front of the School newspaper. In other news, the girls suddenly develop a love of ventriloquism. Before telling Kururun to do their best impersonation of a statue.

Elsewhere, the Witch is waking up from a nightmare when her ex-girlfriend up and left her. If only her ex just didn't have the energy to leave... she probably should have given her ex's money back. But on the plus side, the Butler finally does something! He heads to the nearest watering hole and figures out a way to make polymer slime. While that is going on, Manatsuu and Laura are having a loving conversation over who is the most Tropicool.

After a nice long conversation, Manatsuu and Laura head to sleep, where Manatsuu meets the legendary Precure in a trippy and glowy dream aquarium. Manatsuu probably shouldn't overeat at dinner. Especially when she nearly drowns in her own dream.

But in the morning, the Girls start heading to school, only to have the Butler's slime experiments come up from the depths of the town's canals. So the girls transform and try to find the source of the Yaruki power, only to have the Aqua mirror 404 error on Cure La Mer. But while trying to find the source of the Yaraneda power, Cure Summer learns that Kururun is a good listener and has not moved since the beginning of the episode.

Meanwhile, the villains really still have no idea what their actual job description is. They're now working to form a union because they don't even know why they have to do all of this extra work. They're just a maid, doctor, and cook respectfully. They have also decided that union dues are due at the end of the month. Nuremi will collect.

Elsewhere, Cure Summer has picked up one (1) Kururun but ends up having to sacrifice herself to save the good sealo. And while Summer is now being farmed for Yaraneda power, Kururun becomes the new Cure Summer. All Hail Cure Kururun. Only to get hit with friendly fire via Cure Papaya's eye lasers. RIP Cure Kururun.

But with the power of Friendship (TM) and a new Mirror (buy our toy) Toei actually giving a good budget for an episode and some new barefoot dancing, The Butler's polymer slime experiment is defeated. This type of leadership should be the Student Council President. Revice, The Devil is Just a Bad Guy?!: It's time for a company review of last week's (lol), super conference where FENIX was super happy to show off their belt and their choice for a Rider in front of the whole world and one over-excited family. Since it didn't go too well, someone's getting demoted as punishment. RIP Hiromi's commandership. Perhaps he shouldn't have tried to be a hero, because now instead of a belt, he has a contract to become a magical girl I mean, have a deadman walking around. And now, the one that they wanted to be Revice in Daiji, has become a go-for to get his older brother to sign a contract to also become a magical girl I mean to work for FENIX, since he's not scared of the belt. Daiji can't win.

Meanwhile, in a golf competition, an older brother and younger brother are fighting over who has the better swinging motion, and who has the better golf knowledge. The fighting gets so... well, not intense, but belittling for the younger sibling, so much so that he gets fired as his older brother's caddy.

Don't work for family. (I say that as a younger sibling too.) But at least he was sold this spiffy new contract by a personified alcohol person. Alcohol for your soul. Salespeople are getting real pushy with their selling.

Meanwhile, back at the bathhouse of Happiness, Daiji has come back home to offer Ikki an offer he can't refuse.

Ikki promptly refuses it. Something about needing more bare butts in the tubs. And probably wouldn't want to trigger Vice's fight or fight harder instincts. But in the mists of the "Please, Ikki, there's a 300,000 yen signing bonus" fight to get Ikki to work for FENIX, the dad apparently found a live stream of the golf fight. Fight or Fight Harder instincts fully engaged, Vice possesses a bike to get to the action faster. Regular bikes are for squares; get your demon-powered bike now at your local bike store.

At the golf course, Ikki and Vice transform. And while Ikki was actually doing his not-his-job, Vice went off to do some selling. He'll be denied no fights. At least until the new VStamp pulls him back in to become an Eagle. After beating the older brother's contract deadman, Vice goes back to selling things. At least until Ikki undoes the transformation.

But good news, everyone! Mama is almost completely healed from almost being eaten unceremoniously. And soothes Ikki's fear and tells him that plenty of people have had 2 jobs before. I mean, look at Vice, selling things. He sold the younger golf brother on visiting the Deadmans and getting his own Deadman. That's some A+ selling.

Not the right selling, apparently, since Ikki is pissed. We're not supposed to be selling the Deadmans, we're supposed to be selling the bathhouse. I mean the bathhouse services. And as punishment, Ikki fights this new Deadman without transforming when Daiji notifies them of this new, totally out of the blue and not sold to, Deadman. I mean we can't have other lives in danger.

Tasked with either apologize and fight properly or not fight at all, Vice agrees not to sell shit like Deadmen again and finally gets that magical girl contract. After beating the second Deadman of the day, the two golf brothers make up as much as siblings are willing to, for the low price of their stamps.

Hostage Trouble, What To Do Brother?!: While hanging out at the best-awarded rave place in town, the Deadmen are trying to look for a way to revive their head of ravers, and peanut butter named villain Jif I mean Giff, with a new recruit, a walking hood. Meanwhile, while Mama is trying to support her middle child, in a surprise to all middle children everywhere, an eviction company came to evict the bathhouse. Ikki proudly states that they will never be evicted from that spot, despite the father's best attempts.

Elsewhere, Sakura and her best friend forever Ayaka are going shoe shopping, where Ayaka finds these really nice sparkly shoes. Since Ayaka was not invited to her little sister's photoshoot (instead opting to bring her mom), it was only fair to bring about the shopping therapy. But it turns out that one of them has a stalker following them. And that stalker has some Deadmen foot soldiers. He really has this thing for Ayaka. But Sakura has a cellphone, and calls for Ikki, since we're not doing hide the identity thing.

When Ikki gets to the scene of the crime, he tells them to run, only for the stalker to throw a Pokeball and catch Ayaka. He also demands Sakura, a woman who could probably kick his ass, or he'll kill off Ayaka. But live your dream dude. No kink-shaming here. But they agree because killing people is bad. But is then interrupted by the Kong Deadman. At least Daiji comes in at the right time with the 555 suitcase, now holding the Revice Driver.

While in the midst of a hard-fought battle, the Deadman runs to where the girls are kidnapped, and while chasing this Deadman, Revi and Vice run against another alcohol personified man who wants to make a bargain: The girls for the stamps. This leads the new Go-For Daiji to go back to the FENIX Inc., and retrieve the new stamps, and takes a look at the new P-Bandai belt. Daiji asks if it's possible for him to use that belt, only for George to do his best Ankh impersonation and laughed in his face.

In a sign of kindness, the stalker allows Ayaka to call her mom, who tells her to bug off, she's watching her daughter work the cameras. It sucks to know you're not the favorite.

Elsewhere, the trade is going down, in the following fight allows both of the stamps to go back to Ikki and Vice who pull off their best Den-O impersonation, and end the fight. And in the confusion, Sakura breaks out of her confinements and kicks the ass of the stalker, proving that if Toei doesn't make her a Rider they are missing an opportunity. Sucks that it seems the stalker isn't the actual contract holder.

Back at the Rave Central, The Hooded Intern has these new sparkly shoes.

Zenkaiger, No. 27-kai! A Great Voyage Through Seven Worlds!: After hearing that his mom is still alive and has escaped her deep sleep can on Tojitendo Kikaitopia, The Zenkaiger group starts looking for Kaito's mom Mitsuko. Despite their best efforts, including a massive Google search by Secchan, they still can't find her. This leads to the thought by Gaon that maybe she escaped to a whole other world.

Since it was a good thought, Kaito asks his boyfriend Vox if he can borrow his pirate ship to go look for her. He promises to fill it back up with gas. What does it take, diesel? Regular?

Vox doesn't allow this because Kaito has no driver's license. I mean, neither does Vox, but Flint does and Flint has the keys.

Meanwhile, Stacey hates his job and now is sent on a wild chase to find a woman he may or may not have let out for the sake of his adopted grandma and ice cream supplier. Truthfully, it wasn't entirely his fault. It's not like he attacked the warp gate like the others when he may or may not have left the sleeping pod open.

Back with the heroes, Vroom and Gaon stay behind because Toei's budget is running a little tight. Can't have all that CGI and stuff after spending all that money on the CGI for the other worlds. There are budget concerns to think about, you know. But the remaining heroes board the Pirate ship and Magine sets about looking for Mitsuko with her crystal ball. But because the Pirates have no time for proper seancing, they just start picking the closest worlds to our heroes' world and work from there. Mr. Su is everywhere, by the way.

And after going to worlds where they are called perverts, nearly arrested, and freeze to death, in that order, Stacey arrives with his entourage of other people looking to cash in on overtime and says that all of the other worlds are getting visited, because she didn't just go back home, and not because they shot themselves in the foot. Instead of searching for clues in the Ice World, the Zenkaigers and Twokaizers head off to the Mushroom Kingdom. They did not see any plumbers, however. But, they "find" "Mama" "Mitsune" before Stacey and his crew of merry overtime workers, and a fight breaks out. After beating this wave, the Pirate ship heads off to Earth, much to the relief of Stacey who just wants to make Yatsune happy. Only to be told to follow them. Leading to another battle on Ice World. Stacey better be getting paid time and a half for this. The Zenkaigers win again and head back to Earth. But after the fight, "Mitsuko" takes off the magical disguise to show that it was Me, Magine! (not actually this writer.) with the hope that the bait and switch will get Tojitendo Kikaitopia to leave the other worlds alone, and just focus on them.

No. 28-kai! Weekly Shonen Manga World of Great Illustrations!: Kaito finally got his learner's permit to drive interdimensional ships and is going on a drive with Flint and some of his friends for practice before his big test with the Experienced Driver Flint. Vox has decided that is not his scene and is hanging out at Colorful, on Kaito's dime.

As someone who loves discovery, Vroom has made a big one: Vox is an Otaku. Vox loves him some manga. This is cool since Vroom is also a Manga Sommelier. And so is today's world, Manga World. And Manga World is working on his new hit piece for not-Shonen Jump about the everyday lives of the People of Earth. The pages even move! Now with exclusive Zyuran and Magine chapters! This is a limited edition, so make sure to get yours soon.

Back at Kikaitopia, the entire Tojitendo is still not happy about losing the Eve to their Adam. It'll be fine guys. It's not like there's someone there who'd sell you guys out for one ice cream parfait or something. He's too busy trying to get intel and how to get the father out to really mess with his own dad.

Back at Colorful, the Comics and the Not-Comics are having a conference about how to deal with Manga World. Kaito thinks that because Manga is just "drawing" and "some words" and some "Ink" that anyone can be a Mangaka. That it's sooo easy. This may or may not piss off Vox (and this writer.) about how people think it's so easy to be a Mangaka and storms off. Probably to an art room to make his Manga.

So because plan A didn't work, they go with plan B and buy the latest edition of the most popular manga. And after unbinding the pages of the latest Tankobon of Kimetsu no Yaiba and laying them off on the floor, Manga World starts trying to collect and read the pages. Kaito, thinking he's a ninja tries to steal it while he's reading, only to be caught and sent to the Manga page world. That Limited Edition now has a Kaito Chapter. Only 50 made! (Use the Ninninger or Hurricaneger gear next time.)

But this gives just enough time for Vox to drop ALL of his doujinshi and Original Works onto the floor. The Manga World loves the fact that they're seeing this new work about a pirate in space, looted, in true fashion, from Mangatopia. So much so that Vox does what pirates do best and swipes the limited edition not-Shonen Jump.

Everyone transforms to fight, including the comic pages. And proceed to fight and win, with half of the time acting it out in comic pages. And all the people are freed from their comic pages. I hope you got that limited edition not-Shonen Jump before it was too late.

And while Vox used that manga to save his family, he'd like to get it back now. Too bad Yatsune has ordered that manga back to Mangatopia. If he doesn't tell, will he get to keep it?

[sinkix]

- What your fav Haikyuu!! Character says about you│Karasuno edition -

Obviously these aren’t meant to be taken too seriously lol. I’ll probably make this into a series at some point where I include the other teams idk this took me way too long to do JWIDJQENWKJQFN WE’LL SEE. ENJOY! <3

2D men are infinitely superior I said what I said.

Hinata: 

A sucker for motivational speeches or quotes and they always get you hyped up.

Very ambitious and positive despite frequently getting lost in life

Not as innocent as you seem but still a cinnamon roll lololol

You probably eat fruit as a regular snack n ppl judge you for it

Highkey a dumbass but in a very endearing way so people can’t help but like you

Summer is probs ur fave season

Definitely own several plushies and definitely get defensive about it

The friend people go to when they need cheering up.

You either go to bed at 8pm or 3am no in between.

Your texting style consists of several messages as opposed to one paragraph/sentence with the use of MANY emojis.

You 100% fuck with pineapple on pizza. 

Got your head stuck in a cat flap that one time.

Have a hella low alcohol tolerance or don’t drink at all.

Hella clueless when it comes to people flirting with you, they have to hold a neon sign in front of you for you to get the message

“Oh you were flirting with me?” “I was every day for 5 months but thanks for finally noticing”

Definition of a tab hoarder, your pc/laptop frequently crashes because it can’t handle that many but you refuse to get rid of any.

Always get toothpaste stains on your shirt no matter how careful you are.

“Wait we had homework???”

Nishinoya:

You often get random bursts of energy outta nowhere or at 2am and have no clue how to handle it 

You can’t help but head bang and scream the lyrics to your fav songs.

Probably have a hella diverse music taste.

Likely an active/outdoorsy person who either does sports or wants to.

Vvv loyal, type of friend you can call in the middle of the night and you’ll be there.

Chaotic good or Chaotic neutral.

You’re either one of the most responsible people in the room or one of the most fuckin chaotic and irresponsible lmao no in between it just depends on your mood.

Frequently pull all nighter’s and doesn’t even feel guilty about it

Chug soda like it’s water.

An extrovert or one of those introverts that are bat-shit once you actually get to know them.

You have zero shame, can and will run across the street stark naked for a cheeseburger and a can of sprite.

Like fuck yeah who wouldn’t for a burger and some sprite y’know??

Despite being a whirlwind you are actually a hella chill person to have as company.

You own a skateboard or want to.

Own at least one pair of converses or vans.

Probably have a bucket list or tons of future plans for travelling/adventures stored in your head.

You really want a dog and would call it something like Dexter or Human Destroyer 9000.

Likely have had several hair colour phases.

A slut for doritos.

You ate glue once as a kid and it was kinda okay and that fact still haunts you.

Tanaka:

Listen to rap more than any other genre and ur playlist is fire

Punched dry wall that one time

Probably have several piercings and plan on getting more

Prefer sports bras to regular ones.

Intimidates outsiders but your friends don’t take you seriously in the slightest lmaoaoaooa

Ppl find it hard to approach you but you’re actually super chill so you get sad 

Definition of that Kanye meme “before you talk to me” >:( “after you talk to me” :)

Probably don’t trust people easily

Type of person that once you’re challenged/dared to do something they WILL do it regardless of how stupid bc you hate being called a pussy.

Went through a phase where you only listened to Eminem.

Probably is/was the class clown or wished they were.

You have virtually no patience and a pretty short temper lmao.

You’re a go-getter and hate being told you can’t do something

Definitely snuck out the house several times as a teen.

Walks barefoot outside a lot bc fuck shoes lol

The pairs of shoes you do own are mostly worn down sneakers you refuse to swap out.

You’re that asshole that wears socks with holes in for the sport of it and it doesn’t phase you in the slightest. (dw I do too lmaooao)

Could probably bench press someone’s dad

Enjoy’s drinking coffee.

Kageyama:

Such a picky eater bitch god damn.

Usually hella hydrated and judge people that don’t drink enough water.

Eats spoonfuls of chocolate nesquik powder when no one is looking I said what I said

You like stoic and Tsundere guys who have the outer emotional capacity of a brick wall.

You’re probably the same in that sense and don’t enjoy letting people know what you’re thinking/feeling

Poker face 90% of the time

Type of person to pretend not to find a joke funny but then crumble and start crying with laughter.

Probs an introvert

Once when someone asked you what you wanted for Christmas you responded “to be left the fuck alone” and it still applies to this day.

like fr you just wanna be left alone man but ppl keep bothering you.

You HATE it when people tell you to smile and quite literally take it as an insult.

Your bedtime is 9pm and you stick by it religiously 

Always smell really good like damn what you got on??

The most you do with your hair if it’s long enough is throw it in a pony tail and call it a day.

Either have really nicely manicured nails or you’v chewed them down to the nub no in between.

You hate to admit it but you doubt yourself a lot and it really frustrates you.

Probably wet the bed a lot as a kid and you’re still salty about it.

lololol bed-wetter Kags lover

Audibly snorted typing that I’m sorry.

Probably had a ._. face reading that since ur usually hella unamused.

Cute awkward dork though behind that facade it’s just most people don’t see it.

So critical of yourself like chill

An earth sign or an Aquarius idc.

Do not know how to reciprocate a hug but desperately need one

When people flirt with you you somehow manage to make them intimidated with your responses and scare them off.

You called your teacher “mum/dad” once and you get Vietnam flashbacks to this day.

Daichi:

You probably have a daddy kink and lowkey daddy issues with it

Very supportive friend who has a lotta patience

Hella determined and humble.

Mostly wear black because it’s just much easier than colour coordinating and plus you just prefer the simplicity, but you’re pretty vibrant as a person.

The one who stays sober at parties to drive the others home.

Probably haven’t been in many relationships but still do enjoy romance.

seems stern but is actually very friendly and enjoy company bc you don’t like spending too much time by yourself.

Honestly just wants to chill out, go to bed and read a book.

A coffee connessieur but mostly just drinks instant bc ur too lazy to make it properly and just drink it black.

Very reliable.

Often get stuck with most of the work during group projects lololol

People frequently ask you for the answers to the homework/assignment and it really depends on your mood and how charitable you’re feeling as to whether you’ll lend it to them

Low-key a sadist.

100% Old soul

Despite this you are a fuckin dork and have quite an immature but really funny sense of humour.

You have a thigh kink. 

Def grew up reading wattpad smut and most of ur sexual knowledge stems from that

probably prefer manga to animated versions

Absolute pro at winged eyeliner and looks v good in it.

Probably give lectures even without realising it.

Shamelessly watches the nature channel for hours on end and what of it.

Honestly just done with everyone’s shit lmao

Sugawara:

Either are the mom friend or the one the mom friend has to look after.

You vibe with pastel colours

Your fav season is either spring or autumn.

oversized hoodies and knitted sweaters are your vibe.

Enjoy drinking herbal tea

Likes the smell of rain and will purposely step outside after a storm and S N O R T the smell of damp concrete. (srry if ur from some dry ass place like nevada lmao it rains alot in the UK soooOOOoO)

Quiet but have a really creative imagination and has one HELL of a loud voice when they’re pissed off

like,, I wouldn’t dare get on ur nerves ion want my ear drums bursting damn.

Hoards flavoured chapsticks and scented lip gloss

Either did or still have your Harry Potter house in your bio and it was probably Hufflepuff.

Gives people advice that they are fully aware also applies to themselves but doesn’t follow it LMAO.

Listens to K-pop and several Korean and Japanese genres.

Played a dating sim once and you enjoyed it but ur still ashamed and refuse to ever talk about it.

Smells like lavender or something hella floral

Probably reads a lot of Yaoi and no one else knows but you.

Would 100% own a chinchilla

Read Killing Stalking and it messed you up for weeks.

Asahi:

The one who was trying to flirt for months and the other person never got the hint

Probably a really pretty crier and vibe with the mascara running aesthetic.

You tear up easily lol.

Probably a water sign.

Low-key a bad bitch though 

Looks really good in red lipstick

That one person who’s v attractive but completely unaware and v insecure.

That one friend who seems so soft and innocent but can turn into a banshee when need be.

Crying is your therapy.

You overthink a LOT and it often stops you from achieving what you want.

Actually have a lot of willpower despite ur sensitivity.

Was def a pushover as a kid and still have a chip on your shoulder about it.

Hella artsy and day dreams a lot.

You attract broken souls and often get turned to when people’s problems need fixing yet you’re a total mess yourself

Listens to Girl in red while questioning your sexuality

which you do a lot.

You hate being put in a box or labelled.

Gave up on that hobby that one time and you really wanna get back into it.

Always have at least one hair tie on your wrist that’s basically an accessory at this point.

Own a phat ass fish tank with hella pretty fishes bro it’s such a vibe say hi to Nemo for me.

Yamaguchi:

Too scared to ask for extra ketchup packets so you get your friend to ask instead.

Probably have anxiety.

The time you stuttered once when introducing yourself frequently gives you cringe attacks.

Major animal lover and prefers them to people.

Talked to a tree once and it was a pretty cool experience.

Wear a lot of pink or cute colours and radiate babi energy.

Likely wear skirts 

Wear those aesthetic planets necklaces and your tumblr is filled with space related art and themes.

Enjoy staring up at the clouds and figuring out what animal they are.

Has a lot of secrets that they probably tell to their cat.

dw ur cat isn’t a snitch they got you covered.

“meow”

yeah they definitely didn’t just try to reveal ur deepest traumas to your cousin.

If you don’t have a cat you probably would want one and would call it Mittens or sumn.

You’re whipped for freckles and anyone that has them instantly becomes 1000x more attractive to you

Either like 5′2″ or 5′10″ no middle ground

Definitely own a turtle or rabbit and if you don’t then you should.

Forgets your assignments but the professor lets you off because you’re so nervous they can’t scold you.

Oversleeps at least 2 times a week

Will not get up before 1pm on a weekend

Wall flower at parties but people still approach you bc you are so friendly and kind.

Social anxiety intensifies.

Always get’s called on in class when you haven’t been paying attention and it really troubles you.

Has a minimum of 3 blankets on your bed that you cocoon yourself in.

Tsukishima:

Your attracted to snarky assholes.

Sarcasm and insults are your form of flirtation and you get immediately turned off if they can’t take it or get upset.

Probably shy away from your feelings

Random flashbacks to embarrassing events frequently keep you up at night

Judge peoples fashion choices as they walk past you but actually have a really good eye for what works and what doesn’t.

You look like you have your shit together and you kinda do for the most part.

The quiet kid in class that’s listening to some loud ass screamo or rock n roll’ but ppl have no idea.

Definition of the glinting anime glasses pushed up your nose bridge cliche.

When you make a mistake you question all your knowledge and abilities but no one else knows that about you

Refuses to cry since you view your emotions as a personal weakness

If someone hugged you you’d get VERY uncomfortable.

Physical contact is not your forte

Probably a 5′0″ demon.

Would peg a man to assert dominance but you’re actually a lil bitch.

Knows the answer to the question they can’t solve.

Doesn’t study as much as they should but somehow still gets good grades.

Really likes french fries and the taste of strawberries.

Just wants to be left alone

Ennoshita:

The one friend that gets talked over and it really pisses you off but you’re too nice to say anything.

Seems really passive but can actually be hella confrontational when they wanna be

No tolerance for peoples bullshit 

Really stable and just an overall reliable person.

People often forget you’re in the room lmao but it’s okay you’d rather listen anyway.

Actually has a really interesting mind and a lot to say but mostly keep it to yourself unless they’re your friend

Answered for someone else in attendance a few years ago and it still bothers you.

People often come to you to vent and you’re chill with it

Don’t stand out much but honestly it doesn’t bother you

Can and will get through an entire book/series in a matter of 3 days.

Quite a minimalist and organised for the most part

You look like you have your shit together and you def do.

Have a controversial taste in pizza.

You have more acquaintances than friends but the ones you do are a v tight knit circle.

Will re take a quiz several times till you get the character you wanted

Radiate Virgo and Libra energy.

Kiyoko:

Type of person to say “step on me” as a way of complimenting and you mean it literally.

Both a sadist and masochist

When someone tells you their not interested it just makes you want them 100x more and it frustrates you why are you like this.

Doesn’t compliment often but when you do it’s really heartfelt.

Looks like your silently judging people but in reality you really couldn’t care.

Just kidding you low-key judge them anyway.

Very picky when it comes to partners.

Independent but has random hella clingy moments.

Despite being quiet, you are capable of roasting a bitch alive if they test your patience.

Like I would NOT wanna get on your bad side

You could deadass send them to therapy, their emotions fenna need some aloe vera for that burn.

Just really calm and relaxed tbh so people enjoy being in your company even though you don’t talk much.

When you do though it’s usually something really interesting or funny.

You just don’t see the point in talking if what your saying doesn’t hold any value??

You hate small talk and would rather slingshot yourself off a skyscraper than partake in it.

Your face is easy to read and you make no effort to hide it.

If your in a bad mood they WILL know.

Look like your plotting someones demise or questioning life’s theories but in reality you’re really just thinking bout what you want for dinner.

Honestly just a sweetheart tbh.

Low-key have a staring problem.

Has really neat and cursive handwriting like who tf taught you that.

Yachi:

Frequently says something then panics that it could be misinterpreted 

You overthink literally everything you have ever said and the actions you haven’t even committed yet

Really likes the taste of sherbet 

Could cut a bitch if they needed to

You spend most of your money at Urban Outfitters and don’t regret it.

have an assortment of colouring pencils that ppl always try and borrow and never give them back.

You highlight the shit outta your papers and never read them again.

Really like the smell of peaches

Probably have a v interesting earring collection.

Hoard water bottles in your room and you feel majorly guilty about it.

The taste of honey disgusts you but you eat it anyway for some reason.

Somehow managed to burn rice and solidify soup.

You shouldn’t be trusted in the kitchen but you try your best regardless.

I feel like that applies to most things in your life

Like yeah you fucked it up but like you’re trying your best lol cmon

V tolerant of people but have zero time for fuckboys and shut them down instantly.

You frequently get the shakes from caffeine or anxiety

Or both.

You give really encouraging hugs.

Have no clue what you wanna do in life but it’s ok bby it’ll work out.

Takeda:

You’re a very underappreciated and underrated person and I love u

Probably an English/languages major

Really kind and outgoing but high-key mysterious

Actually has a phat fucking temper like damn where did that come from.

Won’t take no for an answer when you want to achieve something.

That one person people don’t realise is there listening to your conversations but you definitely are and now know Becky’s deepest darkest secret.

Fuck you, becky.

Wore contacts once and forgot to take them out for 3 days.

You wondered why your eyes were so itchy.

Your music taste does not match your appearance.

Probably watch a lot of crime shows and imagine you’re an investigator

Aced physics and chemistry.

More than likely an introvert with extrovert tendencies when you feel like it.

Actually quite temperamental but it’s okay since you’re a v genuine person.

Often debate getting a sugar daddy bc that income looking real tempting rn.

Honest to a fault at times but it’s something people come to appreciate about you.

Just really wanna sleep for 15 hours and sit in front of your laptop with some hot coco.

Ukai:

You like older men

The smell of tobacco and coffee low-key comforts you for some reason.

Peed in a bottle that one time while on a road trip and forgot to throw it out until you found it a week later.

You’re a slut for dyed hair and dudes with piercings.

You once got drunk and passed out on a spinning round-a-bout in a park and your friend still has pictures that you refuse to acknowledge.

Bi-curious and just radiate big Bi energy

Would experiment but you’re too hesitant.

Hates the taste of beer but drinks it anyway.

Just wants to be loved man I stg is that too much to ask.

Often wonder if your friends actually like you then realise you don’t really care anyway lmao.

You still love them though.

Tired of working over time and just wanna catch a break.

Amazon Prime is your best friend.

Random ass parcels comin thru’ each day and it feels like Christmas.

A very lonely and one-man party Christmas.

Stop spending your fucking paycheck.

Have a pretty dark/cynical but really funny sense of humour and you often make people laugh.

Have a big ass temper and people KNOW it.

Often fantasised about dropping out and becoming a stripper bc your patience was being TESTED.

Really likes money but who doesn’t tbh.

You radiate Chaotic Evil but keep it under wraps.

[rwhague]

Schizophrenia: Putting It All Together

​There is no cure for schizophrenia. But there is treatment. These treatments save lives, but the side effects can be hell. Last week we talked about what schizophrenia looks like when all of the symptoms are present. This week I’m going to talk about what a person with schizophrenia’s life looks like during the day-to-day. For a person with schizophrenia, taking medications every day is of utmost importance. The delusions from schizophrenia can be traced back to an over-release of the chemical dopamine in the brain. Anti-psychotics merely plug the leaky dopamine pipe. Once the leaking pipe is stopped, however, the person starts feeling much better and may decide they do not need their medications after all. Bad idea. The hallucinations and delusions come back with a vengeance (Lewis). But there’s another problem with the dopamine suppressing drugs: they don’t target just the areas where the delusions originate, but also the rest of the brain. And what’s another disease associated with low dopamine? Parkinson’s Disease. A person taking these anti-psychotic medications can not develop actual Parkinson’s Disease from the drugs, but may have pseudoparkinsonism with similar symptoms such as a hand tremor, issues with balance, and difficulty walking. They develop a shuffling gait, mask-like face (a decrease in ability to show expressions on their face due to paralyzed facial muscles), muscle stiffness, drooling, slowness in starting movement. The person taking the medications may experience dystonic reactions where spasms occur in discrete muscle groups such as the eyes and neck (the patient will have chronically raised shoulders like a tortoise shell). They might have a protruding tongue, difficulty swallowing, and spasms around their throat which, if bad enough, might lead to a compromised airway. This is obviously terrifying. Most of these side effects develop shortly after starting or increasing the dose of medications. A more long-term side effect, however, is tardive dyskinesia. It’s characterized by “abnormal, involuntary movements such as lip smacking, tongue protusion, chewing, blinking, grimacing, and strange movements of the limbs and feet” (Videbeck).  Keep in mind the person is fully aware of the strange movements and are probably embarrassed. This bizarre, uncontrollable behavior may lead to further social isolation. Is it really a wonder they want to come off their meds?

And in all this, the anti-psychotics are only treating half of the problem. In the previous post, I mentioned positive and negative symptoms. Positive symptoms are those symptoms that are added experiences to a ‘normal person’: hallucinations, delusions, etc. Negative symptoms are things such as depression, withdrawal, loss of joy, etc. Anti-psychotics do not treat the negative symptoms. The struggle of day-to-day living for a person with schizophrenia is enormous. Because of this, pharmacology is just one part of the treatment. Individual and group therapy is key. There, things such as family dilemmas and medication management can be addressed. Clients can undergo social skills training where complex social behavior is broken down into easier to manage parts. Some very creative people have put together environmental supports such as signs, calendars, hygiene supplies, and pill containers to cue clients to perform various tasks. If a schizophrenic person has a good support system, they have a better shot than most. Family education and therapy are known to diminish the negative effects of schizophrenia and reduce the relapse rate. Unfortunately, good support systems are hard to build and even harder to sustain. It’s hard to take care of someone who believes everyone is out to get them. Or to be patient with someone who offers very little in return: no smiles, flat expressions, lack of joy. Unfortunately, this is a part of the therapy that is forgotten about the most. So take all that together for a moment and imagine life as someone with schizophrenia or a caregiver of someone with this disease. I’m going to give you a quick example from the perspective of a writer: Hunter moved into the apartment down the hall from his parents. He’s super excited to be independent and have a place of his own. For the past several years since his diagnosis, Hunter’s routine has been the same: get up, get dressed, brush teeth, etc. all in the same order every day. Unfortunately, just as he is about to take his medications, someone knocks on the door. It’s the maintenance guy just stopping by to let Hunter know the power might go out for a few minutes later that day. But it’s enough to distract Hunter and he forgets the meds. He goes on, grabs his bus pass, and goes to work at the deli. While he’s at the bus stop, people keep staring at Hunter. He tries to ignore it, as he leans back in his seat smacking his lips and wipes a bit of drool from the corner of his mouth. Hunter gets to work on time, but finds Ricky working that day. Ricky laughs aloud at Hunter’s slippers. Apparently, he forgot to change his shoes too. All day, Ricky mocks Hunter’s slow movements, his shaky hands—just whatever he can to get under Hunter’s skin. But that’s not the worst of it. Hunter is used to Ricky, but the customers start whispering about him behind his back too. And then there’s one guy that’s watching Hunter just a little too closely. Later on that day, Hunter sees the guy across the street, watching him through the window. Hunter takes the bus home, and all the people are watching him now, talking about him. He sees the guys again outside the bus window. Now Hunter knows he’s being followed.

When Hunter gets home, he locks the door and goes to kitchen. He grabs a meat hammer and sits by the window where he’s sure he hears the man outside, talking about him. The man says he’s going to get Hunter. He’s going to burn the apartment complex down and kill him and his parents. Hunter runs out of the apartment, not wanting to be trapped inside a burning building. Later, his mom stops by and can’t find Hunter although his coat and wallet are inside. She searches the apartment complex and finally finds Hunter barefooted and hiding behind a dumpster. By now the voices have grown too loud. Hunter doesn’t recognize his mother and charges her with the meat hammer. A neighbor stops Hunter and restrains him until the ambulance can arrive, but Hunter is institutionalized until they can get his delusions under control. Unfortunately, this is the third hospitalization this year, and Hunter loses his job at the deli. Without the extra income, he has to move back into his parent’s apartment and start over.   All because the maintenance guy stopped by. People with schizophrenia are just that: people. I hope this information has helped you gain a better understanding of the condition so that we can portray those effected by mental illness accurately. Sources: Psychiatric-Mental Health Nursing, by Sheila L. Videbeck, fifth ed., Wolters Kluwer/Lippincott Williams & Wilkins, 2011. Lewis, J. (2011, March 6). The Future of Schizophrenia. Dr. Jack Lewis. http://www.drjack.co.uk/the-future-of-schizophrenia-by-dr-jack-lewis

[samtheflamingomain]

25.21%

I've been sober for 3 months today. 92 days. 25.21% of 2021.

I could've posted more updates, more milestones (it took a LOT not to post on Day 69) but I wanted to kind of save it up for a Big Day. It was also a decent way to continue to incentivize my continued sobriety: a full pass to do a shameless, hardcore bragging sesh.

Anyway, this post comes in 2 parts: the TL;DR for those who only want the gist, then more in depth on my ability to stay sober, the lasting effects of rehab, etc.

I tried my damnedest to pare this absolute novel down, but it's long, so feel free to dip out if you just get bored. Onward!

TL;DR: I went to rehab the beginning of July for 3 weeks and haven't had a drop of alcohol since. I've lost weight, I'm more healthy, my daily anxiety level went from 8 to 2, I haven't had an anxiety attack in 3 months, and everything generally just seems... easier. My memory and concentration have improved. I've been productive and I've been meditating every day. I'm saving money, and while I sometimes fantasize about getting drunk, that's usually all it is.

Honestly, it's been much easier than I expected, but I think a lot of that is because for the first 3 weeks, the time in which I would usually break down and start drinking again when trying to get sober myself, was spent behind a locked door. So far I haven't had any days where I was close to giving in. I haven't had many days where I've been depressed about it, missing it or really tempted. Maybe 3-4. I've basically just gotten on with my life as if alcohol doesn't exist.

To wrap up the short version for those ready to peace out, I'll leave it with a bit of advice.

I don't feel qualified to give any specific advice, because my story feels very unique to me, and I honestly don't think what worked for me will work for MOST people. Sometimes people spend a year in rehab and still drive straight to the liquor store on their way home.

That said, there's one thing that I've found pretty universally true: you have to really want it. For a while, I floated about without much of a "reason" to stay sober. I don't have a spouse, kids or a job I've been fired from, so I didn't see the point.

It's taken me a while, but after not being "convinced" by a few superficial "reasons" like weight loss and saving money, I thought I needed something more... permanent? Consequential? I now realize that my "reason" for getting sober at a young age after only a few years of alcoholism is that I don't want it to get to a point where I'm hurting other people, drinking myself into multiple lasting health problems... I don't want it to become permanent or consequential.

Anyway, that's my two cents. If you do have something like kids or trouble keeping a job, definitely use that as your reason. But for anyone who's a pretty "functional" alcoholic like I was, "not letting it go on long enough to become disfunctional" is a good enough reason.

This is going to get stupid long, so feel free to walk away now, just glad you read this much and it really does mean the world when people listen to what I have to say.

Now some more things in depth. I'll go in chronological order: what made me get sober, what I took from rehab (and what I left), and how it's been the past few months.

I started drinking when I got kicked out, manic out of my mind and homeless unable to sleep. It took a while until I was able to sleep without alcohol, but by then the addict brain had taken over. I'd tried a few times to get sober myself, but I never made it more than a week without, and always got back to daily drinking after a few months maximum.

Some people need a "wake up call", a "last straw" or a "rock bottom". Something external to make them realize they can't go on as they are. For me, the catalyst was my health, which is more of an internal reason I suppose. I didn't have a heart attack or liver failure, but my anxiety was getting uncontrollable and I knew it was directly tied to my drinking.

My life had been starting to feel tolerable, and I was more financially secure than ever before. Things were looking up... except for the alcoholism. This is a weird analogy but the only one that makes sense to express why, if I was doing so well on paper, I decided to go to rehab: you have to sweep before you mop. If I hadn't been in the place I was, I don't think I would've been successful at rehab. I had to sweep up the cat turds from the floor of my life before I was able to mop up the shit stains with sobriety. I know, I'm a true wordsmith.

When I finally called the hotline that hooked me up with a bunch of different rehabs, I knew I was in for a wait. It was about 5 months from that call to checking in, which isn't too bad considering I've been on the waitlist for a neuropsychiatrist in ALL OF CANADA for 4 years.

That brings us to July 12th, Rehab Day One. I've gone in depth in multiple other posts but to touch on it briefly, if I had to describe my experience in a sentence I'd say "the place I went to got very lucky with me".

What this means is that, of the 5 people in my group, I think this exact program was only ever going to help me. At the same time, I didn't even know what I would need, but this exact program was 90% of it. I didn't think 3 weeks would be long enough, but for me it was. The hours-long, repetitive, basic-ass CBT groups held 5 times a day 7 days a week was absolute torture for everyone but myself. While it was a drag to spend an hour on defining what a cognitive distortion is, the routine and repetition, something I've never gotten out of any outpatient program, helped me to really absorb the information and let it rewire my brain.

I've always said that I'm someone who should be spending an hour a day with a therapist for the rest of my life, and while that's not even remotely feasible, this was as close as it's ever gotten, and it proved me right, because it worked. I've done biweekly therapy for a short time but even that didn't come close to the way my brain changed in those 3 short weeks.

This program required absolute commitment and open-mindedness. This isn't because it was hard work or difficult concepts, but quite the opposite. While I hate the entire concept of art therapy being used as a cure-all for mental illness, I willingly got out of my bed, went downstairs and tried doing a dot mandala for an hour because I'm willing to try anything to get better. A lot of people might think they are, but really aren't. To use the mandala as an example, one guy was really into it, I wasn't, but we both finished. The other 3 tried, messed up a few times, and then scrolled through their phones. When I say this program necessitates complete engagement, that's not a compliment. It shouldn't be a chore to engage with the program. It shouldn't take me actively saying "I know I've known this basic concept since 4th grade, but maybe hearing it again will help" to get something out of a rehab program. So again, in every way, I got lucky, and so did they.

Before I finish with the rehab section, having had a few months to reflect on the whole thing, I now have an endless list of things wrong with it. I arrived, greeted by the most jaded and disillusioned of staff, and quickly became disturbed and at points concerned with just how negligent the staff are.

Maybe it's because I've been on the psych ward where they won't even let you have shoelaces and shine a flashlight on your face every half hour through the night, but it could've been so incredibly easy to sneak in alcohol. I brought 2 full water bottles, fully expecting to have to dump them out upon arrival, but they said "nah it's fine". Is it though?

Then there were actual counsellors there who were... okay. I recall one, the one I thought was the smartest, reading a handout aloud and coming across the word "delve" as in "let's delve into..." and stumbled, then said she doesn't know that word. The room was silent. As she pulled up Google on the screen I said, "it means to dive into it". She Googled it anyway. Synonyms include "dive in". If that was the only example I wouldn't mention it, but this was the first of at least 10 words she had do Google, none past a 10th grade level, from HER OWN MATERIAL. From that point on it became clear that they had no fucking idea what they were doing.

We had one last one-on-one counselling session before we left and the counsellor just filled in boxes to questions on her computer, rephrasing everything I said to fit into the buzzwords and "lessons" we'd "learned". Example. Me: I do think I'm better able to catch myself thinking 'oh I can just have one drink' and say 'no I can't'." Her: "Okay, so would you say that you can recognize negative cognitive distortions like permission-giving thoughts and counter them with a more rational and less emotional mind?" Like girl, blink twice if your boss is holding your family hostage. She gave me some papers, detailing all the online courses they were signing me up for and options for more treatment they'd be sending me, a phone number to call and a phone appointment for the next Monday. I never got that call, the phone number is a hotline, I never got a single email from them, and given how shitty they really are at their jobs, I didn't feel the inclination to try and get those resources. If they even exist in the first place.

In summation, it was a place where it was physically impossible to get alcohol. That's really all I can say in its favor. Oh, and they let you have your cell phone.

Now on our timeline I'm back home. I want to kind of analyze why it's been easy for me.

I often said that my main goal of going to rehab was to lock me away from alcohol long enough for it to reset my brain. Most people thought that was naïve, but that's exactly what happened. But I'm well aware that my experience of "instantly became sober and literally hasn't had a single hard day in 3 months" is absurdly unusual.

I put this down to a few things. Firstly, I'm on seven different meds for my mental health. Almost all of them have their effects dulled or even eliminated when you drink. So when I noticed my mood, fatigue, memory, concentration etc all getting better at once - right about as I left rehab, I don't think it would be a stretch to say that all those meds started working properly.

Secondly, I've been keeping myself busy, but that's something I've always been good at. Now I specifically choose to undertake projects that will eat up a lot my time and put me in a state of flow. I recently made an entire card game from scratch, and let me tell you, I didn't think of alcohol for a week.

Thirdly, my other goals now get in the way of alcohol. I'm getting old and my body is deteriorating. But I've always wanted to do just one last season of gymnastics. Well, I need to lose weight for that to happen. I've already lost 35 pounds, and after another 20 I'll be ready to go. Also, I used to spend more on alcohol per month than rent. Even though I've done a few shopping sprees lately, I haven't come remotely close to how much I was spending before.

I want it more than anything. I want to be sober more than I want one night of "fun" that will more likely than not lead me back to where I was a year ago. I never want to need anything as much as I needed alcohol.

Lastly, just a few more random thoughts.

A lot of people, myself included, worried about the fact that I work at a bar as a cook, but honestly the entire time I'm there I'm thinking about food, not alcohol. If I'm hanging out with some regulars before/after, I can watch them drink and be perfectly fine with my coffee, because the coffee is $2, and I used to spend $20 after every work shift.

I also decided in rehab to start taking better care of myself as best I could. This started with getting my second vax which I'd been putting off, then an eye appointment, then new glasses, then a dentist appointment where I was informed I need to do $3000 worth of work on my implant that's erroding my bone matter, so that sucks, but I caught it early. I've also been meditating every day. In just 3 months, I've made pretty big improvements to my self-care and my daily routine.

One of my fears about sobriety was "missing out" on "having fun". A few days ago, all my housemates got together to play Mario Party, and it was kind of my first night doing something social while sober. It was a breath of fresh air - I wasn't constantly running to piss, I didn't worry about running out of alcohol, I didn't get sloppy and obnoxious as I can sometimes do. I even came very very close to winning my first game of MP. When I reflected on the night, I realized that, if I'd been getting drunk the whole time, I would've sucked at the minigames, been a hindrance to anyone unfortunate enough to be teamed with me, and likely would've stopped caring about the game itself after the first few turns.

Yesterday I was making my 4th pot of coffee of the day when I realized there was a full glass of wine just sitting on the counter. I had absolutely no idea where the hell it came from - nobody in my house drinks wine. I shrugged and poured that sweet sweet bean juice. It was only when I sat down and took a sip of coffee did I find myself thinking automatically, "this tastes so much better than wine". I only realized then that it had been rose wine, the only kind I've ever been able to tolerate. It was the ultimate moment of possible temptation, and the thought of just chugging that glass - as I may've done in the past - didn't even cross my mind.

I'm so glad to be where I am. I'm about to undergo some serious financial changes - i.e. going absolutely broke - but drinking isn't gonna help that, so I'm cautiously optimistic.

Stay Greater, Flamingos.

[depths-of-hope-and-despair]

Retrospect

Not altering her typical nightly routine, Aditi found herself clutching onto one of her empty glass bottles by the end of the evening. Thankfully, she made it back to her room before finally closing her eyes, in hopes of a good night’s rest. Her last thought was that she would end up in the same office once again.

And wouldn’t she know it, she actually returned into the very same office, seated on the very same chair, with the very same man expecting her visit this time, smiling widely as he arched his back like a cat, basically buzzing as he greeted her: “Ah, if it isn’t Aditi. Back already, you just couldn’t get enough of me the last time.” He chuckled, leaning back in his chair and opening a notebook, scribbling in it as he continued. “Not that I can blame you, of course. I also have been looking forward to our....reunion.”

He slid the notebook aside, instead focusing on her again and asking: “How was your day? Did you follow my advice or were you not ready yet? Have you read any good books lately?” Typical therapist talk, though there was something about it. He didn’t break eye contact, just like last time, but this time he seemed more prepared.

Aditi blinked rapidly to take in the vision before her, not believing her eyes at first. Why was she back here? Her dreams rarely repeat. What is this? Her confusion turned to annoyance quickly, growling at the man in front of her, already unhappy with his presence. “Is this some kind of joke?” She spat, looking around the room for the sign of any change in scenery. “I try to drown my sorrows with alcohol to sleep peacefully for once, and I’m sent back here. Wonderful...” She grumbles.

Her gaze narrowed again at his questions. “It has been one night. I am not a speed-reader, I prefer to take my time and enjoy books. As for your advice, yes. I did open up to one of my roommates. Which wasn’t very successful, due to her having no emotional intelligence whatsoever.” She couldn’t help but pout that time, actually angry her attempt to open up took a backseat. “What on earth could you possibly have for me now? What else do you want to know?” She asked, guarded and standoffish.

“Magnificent! I see we are already making great progress, good job!” He remained calm, not caring about Aditi’s anger in the slightest, merely jotting something down in the notebook as he continued: “It is an important first step to take the courage and open up to someone. It is great for coping and you have more support that can help you direct your focus away from the past.”

The fact he practically ignored her seething anger only fueled it to new heights. “Your “step forward,” got me nowhere, aside from being judged.” She hissed, her hands gripping the table hard enough to leave small indents with her claws.

“Quite the opposite, Aditi.” He reassured her, observing her denting the table, the wood basically regenerating itself after a few seconds, elaborating: “How would you feel, if someone suddenly revealed something deeply upsetting to you? Maybe your friend was caught off guard. I’m sure they will react differently tomorrow, when they have time to digest the information. You said they lacked emotional intelligence. So it takes longer to compute.”

“You have an answer for everything, don’t you?” Her bright eyes shined through the dark, staring straight through him with an unreasonable amount of annoyance.

He chuckled, looking up at her, intense eyes almost glowing in the blue light. “I can get you something to drink if you want, but therapy usually takes more than one session. Granted, most people only need one session from me.” His laughter was darker this time, more sinister, but before Aditi could question him, he procured two pieces of paper and two pens.

“For our session today, I thought we would make the pictures ourselves. Who needs Rorschach anyway.” He spoke lightheartedly, sliding a paper and pen across so Aditi could take it, explaining: “It is easy, really. We all have something that causes us grief. Just let your thoughts wander and draw what’s currently haunting you on the paper. I will do it too, since you seem to like it when I participate.”

Aditi scowled down at the blank thin canvas offered to her. What causes her grief? What kind of therapist needs to know that? Did he believe he could make her grief subside by talking about it? Ridiculous. However, she knew the dream wouldn’t end unless she played along sadly. Disgruntled, Aditi picked up the pencil and paper and began to draw. She drew three sketches that immediately came to mind when associating with grief.

The three sketches she slide over to him, were; a sketch of a boy with spiky hair and wearing a button up shirt and tie with a smile, a sketch of her own clawed hand, and lastly, a sketch of a woman with short hair, cat pins in her hair, and broken arm. She too was smiling. She tapped her foot impatiently while awaiting his own paper and the questions to come.

He merely smiled, unfazed by her impatience, turning to his own paper and beginning to scribble. His artistic talent came fully to shine, taking a few minutes longer than her as he drew like a madman. He handed Aditi his paper, revealing a small picture. It showed a man with black hair that was parted in the middle, he looked similar to Albert, trying to get away from a group of horrific looking creatures and a man, only a big, toothy smile visible.

As sneaky as ever, Aditi grabbed his paper quickly, eyes glancing over it and firing her question off before him. “Who is this? Why does he look similar to you?” She questioned.

“He is my arch nemesis. We met during college. He....doesn’t have it easy at the moment. Someone wants him dead and almost succeeded, he disappeared for a few months. I am concerned he will meet an untimely demise.....” He sounded like he wanted to add something to that, but he already said enough. He was just a dream after all.

“And that brings you grief... why exactly?” Aditi asked, one of her claws carefully tracing the sketch under her palm. “You say he is your worst enemy, yet you feel grief at the thought of his demise? Do you worry you’ll be bored once he’s gone and nobody will challenge you? Or is it.. something else?” She inquired, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s....complicated...” He responded, sighing into his hands as he contemplated whether he should tell her or not. He decided with a more simplified version: “He...challenges me in a way I have never seen with anyone else before. In university we raced to be the best in our class and he pushed me to great heights. Without him, I feel....bored. Nothing presents a challenge anymore. What fun is it to be at the top without someone you can watch squirm at their defeat?” He chuckled at the thought, reveling in the thought that he won in college against Vincent, even if their rivalry wasn’t the reason for his concern. It was… something else entirely. “Enough about me, dear. It’s your turn.” He held his hand out expectedly.

Begrudgingly, Aditi handed over the paper, watching him study the little scribbles closely before he wondered: “Who are they? A friend? Or a relative?” He seemed oddly off-put when he said relative, not even questioning if Aditi hurt them. He already knew she did.

Her expression flattened. Not deflating with depression, more so turning into a forced neutral gaze. “The male is one of my partners. The female is... my sister. A relative, yes.” She explained.

He studied the drawings a little closer, squinting and nodding to himself. “I see. Something bad must have happened if it causes you so much grief. Did you get in an argument with your relative and your partner got hurt in the process?” He traced the lines with his maybe gloved hand before putting the paper back down, looking back up at Aditi.

The tall girl sighed at him requesting an elaboration from her. “My partner, he... I was fated to kill him and be the successor to his legacy. Of despair, that is. The later years of my life, when he rebelled and chose hope, I was taught to hate him for betraying us. And now, look where we are. How can I be certain he loves me? Or that he is only toying with me to keep himself safe? How could you love someone who was destined to be your enemy? I don’t understand how he can choose. I understand Lucy. She found me, and I am grateful for her existence to no end. She means a great deal to me, and I would do anything to protect her. I feel the same about him. Yet... there is always the doubt in my mind. That he can’t love me. That he would be better off alone.”

“Just because he chose hope over despair doesn’t mean that he cannot love you. One doesn’t exclude the other.” His gaze softened a bit as he continued: “Your concerns are valid and you are not stupid for having these doubts, but if you ask me, you should seek conversation with him. At the end of the day, I’m just a therapist, and not a mind reader. All I can do is reassure you and encourage communication.” He grabbed his pen and drew a heart around the three of them, showing it to her: “See? It’s not as difficult as you think it is. Sometimes life seems like rocket science, but really, it’s just a quick skip over the river. You just need to take the offered hand.”

At this advice, she sunk into her chair and huffed. “.. It feels impossible to communicate how I feel to him without hurting his feelings. I fear, should I say anything wrong, he’ll blame himself. I pick my words carefully, but, there is no use tiptoeing through a minefield, is there? At times, it... feels better to be silent. To not make the problem worse. It’s... difficult to understand why anyone would choose me. Truly, their standards for beauty must be low.” She tucked a hair behind her ear and frowned at the ground.

He nodded at her doubts about the relationship, admitting to her: “I don’t think that silencing the problem away is going to help. You may not hurt him at the moment, but you are hurting yourself that way. If you leave these doubts unaddressed, they might be the reason the relationship will fall apart. Even if it hurts for a moment, I’m sure he will understand. It is a roadblock you need to work past. You are an intelligent and beautiful young woman, I’m sure both of them are willing to work with you for you.” He tapped his pen against the sketch of the three of them, surrounded by the heart again, inquiring: “Don’t let your doubts, or your pride, get the best of you. You might regret it in the end.”

“... I suppose. I don’t want it to fester forever, but I also don’t want to blurt out my own worries during an awful time. Timing does matter, I believe.” She sighed with a frowning, knowing he was right but unable to fully vocalize it outside of a slight nod. “.. I will talk to him. In the future. I will.” She promised to herself and him all the same.

“Now. About your sister.” He folded his hands together, resting his chin atop them as he leaned forward to listen.

She paused to inhale before speaking. “My sister has never liked me. We had opposing views from a young age. Our...” She swallowed trying to hide the contempt she held or having to use this word. “... mother. Our mother pitied us against one another frequently, to build our competitive spirits. She wanted a life she couldn’t have. I only wanted her to stay safe.” Simplifying their story into a normal family felt so strange. She was stubborn about not telling this man everything just yet. Dancing around the details would be fine for now. “She was reckless. I saved her from danger, took the blame for her idiotic decisions, and showed her everything I knew. Yet it.. was never enough. She never wanted anything to do with me. Mother treated her differently as well. Gave her... things I wasn’t allowed to enjoy myself. I grew jealous because of that. Between her taking my efforts for granted and my own jealousy, I came to resent her, sadly.” Her eyes looked to the side, clearly unhappy with this fact. She didn’t want to hate her own sister. She was the closest she had to someone who understood her own strife. Why did they have to be enemies? Was it her own fault? Was it Trifle’s? Both of theirs? Or was it all to blame on Celia? Would blaming anyone even fix the problem at all...?

He listened patiently when she revealed her concerns about her family. For a moment, just a moment, he felt a connection. It made him shiver, but he quickly disguised it as an arm movement. He had this weird feeling yesterday too. He should look into this more. But for now he needed to offer some advice. “So your sister got preferred to you by your abusive parental figure?” He tried to sum it up, humming and tapping the pen against his palm. “Maybe....try to see things from her perspective? I understand you wanted to protect her, but maybe she didn’t see it like that at all? Think about her character in comparison to yours and what your attempts at protecting her might have looked like from her perspective. And, if you find something....maybe try to contact her and apologize? I know, I know, it doesn’t fix anything that happened, those memories will always remain....but it is not only to clear your conscience, but also to show her that you changed. That you realize your past flaws. Try to explain yourself, how you feel jealousy over everything she had that you were denied. Try to explain your perspective too. Maybe she will understand it. Maybe she won’t. But at the very least you tried and got it off your chest.”

“I never.... said... she was abusive..? My mother.. I mean.” Aditi spoke of her confusion before being able to filter the words coming out. Realizing she had let out her doubts, only made her surrender more information. Was there any use in hiding it? He’s inside my head. He likely already knows. This “therapy session,” is only fun and games for him. “... Captor. She wasn’t my mother. She was my captor. My birth mother died when I was very young. My birth father likely doesn’t know I exist, since he never reared his face in my life. My captor raised me. Celia, is her name. My sister... isn’t blood related. I don’t.. have a family. I never have.” She admitted, frown noticeably turning less forced and more genuinely sad. “Trifle,'' is my sister’s name. She wanted freedom. I wanted her to keep her head down and survive. We had different priorities. I hate..” She took a deep breath, shuddering on the way out. “I hate her. I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t want to hate her. But, every time I see her I- hah... she’s everything I’m not. I feel like a child again when I look at her. I feel helpless to my own emotions. It makes me feel... weak. So, I... I don’t look at her anymore.”

“Ah, so she wasn’t your mother after all, and she is not your blood relative. You were....all her prisoners, do I understand that right?” Now he had a better picture of the situation, thinking about it for a moment. “It is a difficult situation you are going through, and it probably always will be, but please trust me when I tell you, that it is okay to feel resentment. When you see her, all you can think about is what she had and what you hadn’t, right? ....I think you should take your time with this. Maybe tell her or write to her that you need some time away from here if you and her see each other often and just...take your time. It is okay to feel resentment, it is okay to carry that resentment for years, but you must also not forget that you are not there anymore. You have a place of your own, and you have acquaintances and you have a relationship” He smiled, tilting his head lightly as he assured her: “You are not alone. And things will get better. We will take it one step at a time, alright?”

The advice centering her family affairs seemed to catch her off guard. All her life, by everyone she confided in about Trifle, she was told her resentment wasn’t valid. She was wrong for hating her sister so adamantly. Trifle didn’t deserve it. She was a victim too. Never mind that Aditi was treated worse on purpose. Poor Trifle would never hurt a fly, and Aditi was cruel to her, so she must be in the wrong, right? She was the villain, like always. Everyone invalidating her only grew her hatred more, towards her sister and herself. It felt strange looking someone in the eyes, who thought she wasn’t entirely at fault. She couldn’t seem to find the words. What was there to say? The fact someone finally understood filled her with relief and tons of sadness on top of it. She barely knew him, and he understood her side more than anyone else did. It was pathetic, but gratifying, all in one. “... We? What do you mean? You intend to keep coming back to my dreams?” She felt herself smile for once. “You’d miss me too much? Heh..”

“Yes, Aditi, I just don’t know how to continue without my favourite hostile patient by my side, we are essentially best friends now!” He chuckled, he had no malice in his voice. He was just joking, thankfully, starting to chuckle to himself as he leaned forward, commenting: “I can tell you have taken a liking to me too, considering all the information you share with me.” He had a little smile on his face, a mixture of smug and happy, enjoying that he finally got through her walls. At least a little.

That description of her family life made him furrow his eyebrows though. Could she be...? No, this wasn’t possible, was it? He didn’t know, it could be her. But there were so many people with the same story. Did her find her? After all those years? “Aditi, would you mind answering me a question? You can always decline of course.” He cleared his throat, getting a little nervous as he asked: “Are you....did you have a name before your current name? You were ‘adopted’, weren’t you?” He just....needed to make sure....

Hearing his question, one of her hands reached up to toy with her midnight hair. “Yes. I’ve had three names in my lifetime. Aditi is my chosen name. Oddity was the one my captor gave me. My birth name was Orabelle.” She explained, tilting her head to the side curiously. “Why do you ask?”

When she said her name, he dropped the pen he had still been holding in one hand, his face morphing and making it look like he just invented a brand new emotion. He muttered something under his breath, hand starting to erratically grab the pen and write something in the notebook, calming himself down in a matter of seconds. “....I’m sorry Aditi. but I cannot tell you yet....I will eventually though, I promise....” And he meant it.

A weird noise echoed through the office, like a cuckoo-clock that was being tortured and Albert sighed, the disappointment heavy on his face. “It seems like this is the end of our session. How unfortunate.” His lips quirked up to a gentle smile, his two fangs poking out from his upper lip again as he ended their conversation with: “I hope we can see each other again very soon.”

Aditi watched his responses to her comments, mouth twitching to a smile when she felt needed. The reaction to her name caught her attention most, of course. When he dropped the pen, her smile dropped with it, back into a curious frown with her eyebrows knit. As he promised to inform her of it later, her mouth opened to protest but was once again cut off by the strange sound. “What do you m-?” She began, but as soon as the words left her, she jolted back to reality, waking up in a cold sweat like before.