#and id feel it was a shortcoming almost

[thesherrinfordfacility]

okay let's get them hard truths out in the open following episode 6, bearing in mind that i am in the UK and am therefore chronically sleep-deprived, and have watched the Feral Domestic™ maybe only like oh 7 times:

crowley is as much at fault as aziraphale. they are both as bad as each other. their own individual idiosyncrasies are literally the other's emotional downfall and if im honest im not entirely sure there's any way they can adequately move past it.

waxed on and on and on about it, but aziraphale's issue is not that he has any allegiance to heaven. he doesn't at all, and that is obvious in his initial reaction to the metatron, in that he essentially says that he knows his place and it is not Up Above. it is right there in the bookshop, and with crowley (even if he didn't consciously think it that explicitly at the time). he doesn't want any part of the heaven that it currently is, he has had enough and is tired of trying to be the angel that hides who he is and what he wants from his existence. that much is very much clear.

but the mantra throughout most of life is to be the change you want to see in the world. look at the major societal issues that are happening in the world today; people are rising up and fighting for what is right, and what they believe in, and wanting to make changes. now look at this opportunity that aziraphale has been given. regardless of the questionable motive of the metatron offering it to him; if you were in his position, could you say you'd find it easy to refuse that?

the issue here with aziraphale is that he (again, ill harp on about it until the cows come home) thinks that crowley - this demon that isn't a good demon because he is good and kind and gentle - would want to have his place in making that change happen; be by aziraphale's side whilst they create the world and heaven that is different from the largely shit one they've always known, hated, and feared. this is where the Pedestal comes in; like i said before, aziraphale has now been confronted with the fact that this demon, his best friend and love of his life, is acting in the way he's always acted but that aziraphale refuses to acknowledge... because to acknowledge crowley's shortcomings (which ill discuss in a sec) would be to question aziraphale's faith in him, and mean falling from the pedestal that has been aziraphale's status quo for the last few thousand years at minimum.

edit: this also needed adding because it touches on aziraphale's tendency to hold himself superior to crowley, which he also does in the Domestic scene.

crowley's issue is twofold. one, he cannot move on from the fall. second, that he is sometimes a manipulative and childish shit. the first is obvious, and his recent experiences with heaven have only compounded this (ie his conversation with gabriel/goob, where he lays into him about gabriel's part in the cruelty shown towards aziraphale to the point he almost makes goob kill/injure himself). crowley can also however be incredibly cruel borne out of his own pain. there were major hints in s2 that not only did crowley fall (no matter what the metatron says, im still not convinced he fell for only asking questions) but he fell from a great sodding height that in his mind should have made him untouchable. my thoughts on morality in heaven have already been discussed, but that must have had a huge impact on crowley; it is no wonder that it's a sore point and he feels bitter, resentful, and angry.

in the above context, id want nothing to do with heaven either. but crowley doesn't communicate and im guessing that his feelings about the fall are a No Go area in terms of what he's shared with aziraphale... so for crowley to assume that aziraphale turned down the metatron is grossly unfair - how was aziraphale necessarily meant to know how deep his trauma (if we're applying human mental health constructs) runs? he isn't to know that at all - so it does track that aziraphale would think that crowley would want to help him make a difference so they don't have to keep getting involved in the toxicity that is the heaven/hell politico-moral dichotomy.

what also upset me about the Domestic was the kiss. i loved it for what it was in isolation and it was a long time coming, and a huge movement in the dance they constantly have with each other, but it was in essence manipulative. i realise crowley was on his last emotional straw and yes, perhaps the love and devotion got too much for him to contain... but he literally just stood there and heard aziraphale tell him that he wanted crowley and he wanted them to be together. there were no qualms at all that aziraphale loves him as much as he loves aziraphale. so, what was the kiss meant to prove?

to my mind, it was manipulation; specific, a temptation. whilst very romantic and 'sweep him off his feet with the violins playing', it was also non-consensual and unwarranted on crowley's part - to the point of being derogatory and redundant (lets be clear: not a criticism on Neil for adding the kiss, im purely talking about crowley as a character and his Choices here). there was nothing to prove, nothing that that kiss could have possibly convinced aziraphale to do. so the only thing that leaves, imo, is that it was a temptation. crowley does not typically use temptation in this way, or at least that's the impression ive had throughout s1 and s2, so he chooses now is the time? to tempt aziraphale into staying with him? of course he does!

he's desperate, but also childish and immature and completely ignorant of what aziraphale is actually saying to him. aziraphale never denied him; aziraphale wanted him in this opportunity exactly by his side as he always has been. but that didn't fit with what crowley wanted, so he tried to make aziraphale bend to his will. aziraphale says the fatal words "i forgive you", but if he has (as i suspect he has) realised that crowley was trying to manipulate him... well, id probably say something as damning to crowley as 'i forgive you' too.

when aziraphale said 'nothing last forever', i realise crowley took that to mean him and the life that they built together, but it obviously wasn't that at all. aziraphale is saying that they have eternity ahead of them, that he wants to spend it with crowley, whatever has to end around them (ahem the world? apocalypse from s1, anyone?). aziraphale demonstrated consistently throughout s2 that he is trying to give crowley his own agency where heaven/hell are concerned (paraphrased but: "I want you to help me but if you don't want to, you are free to leave"). crowley however seemed that he was constantly one foot out the door in case things got Too Much (which, you know - valid) but aziraphale really did his best to make crowley not only not feel suffocated but also that crowley was wanted. and for anyone that is a tough balancing act.

the two of them have had 6000+ years of Not Really Communicating. this is the detritus that remains when they don't, and it was absolutely needed in this season. for them to break apart and break in and of themselves. s3 needs to be where they learn more about themselves than each other, and stop believing that the other is infallible, because such thinking - worship, blind faith - only ends badly.

[ofbreathandflame-archive]

The Paradoxical Nature of Feyre

It’s interesting to consider just how much of Feyre’s character must overcompensate for Rhysand’s shortcomings as a character. I’ve always wondered at the impossibility of the morality involved in the characterization of feyre; in which, Feyre exists – as @feyres-divorce-lawyer has already elaborated on this this post – in this violent conundrum in which is operates as both the most qualified, but is oftentimes then characterized as the most inept to help.

To elaborate – Feyre’s character has to subsume an almost reverential when she is discussed in thorough conversations that question to her motivations, tactility, and efficiency. And because Feyre is never actually given qualities (or I should say – those qualities are never at the forefront when discussing why she is placed in these hierarchal / leadership positions) that prove she deserves to be a leader there’s no actual, tangible evidence to prove that Feyre is inherently qualified for any of these roles. When Helion asks Rhysand – “why did you make her High Lady” the story does not lean onto to any tangible reasons as to why we the reader should believe this other than ‘Rhys loved Feyre’

Here enters the actual problem with Feyre’s character: her being High Lady is a statement of Rhys goodness, not a statement on Feyre’s prowess. Because the story leans on such individualistic, arbitrary ideals, there’s nothing being said about Feyre as a character. So much of these conversations centers around Feyre being qualified but there’s nothing in the story that suggests otherwise. Feyre being reckless and brave prove that she is….reckless and brave – both those qualities don’t really make a good leader and they prove…nothing about Feyre’s skills. Realistically, of course Feyre knows close to nothing – of course she’s going to make very bad decisions and mistakes, of course her per view is limited. So much is put into proving that Feyre is the best that there’s often no conversation about how rigid that makes Feyre as a character.

Those are flaws that make Feyre a better character. One of my favorite moments when reading A Storm of Swords was the moment Davos realizes he needs to be able to read because ‘he’s a lord now.’ I love how he reflects on how hard the process is and how the children seem to read so easily and he has to sit down and sound out the words. Davos is such a good character because he represents the kind of struggles someone – lowborn, smuggler, illiterate, might have when integrating themselves into a new hierarchal world. But this also says something about him as a character – he chooses to begin the journey to learn how to read because he’s realized he needs tools in order to combat is inexperience. Even the fact that it’s not Feyre who realizes she needs to learn how to read but Rhys who forces her says so much about her character, negatively.  

So when we have these conversations about Feyre, no one ever actually proves what makes Feyre qualified to lead. Begrudgingly feeding your family because you feel obligated doesn’t prove that you can lead an entire town; it proves perhaps resilience, perhaps resourcefulness but even then id argue Feyre isn’t even that (see: she seems to not learned any other skills other than hunting, complains about her shoes instead of just mending her own or switching with Nesta or Elain; she can’t cook, etcs). Rhysand making Feyre High Lady because he loves her says nothing about her as a character. It doesn’t expound her talents and skills – and ultimately doesn’t make anyone believe the title is tangible. Even the story doesn’t believe that to be true.  Nothing about Feyre’s trials UTM prove that she is capable leader – if anything they prove the opposite (I do not mean this negatively – if anything, I’ve always felt that Nesta’s arc with the Valkyries fit Feyre much more than her own arc did. I could see Feyre being someone who operates under her own set of rules. I’ve always felt that Feyre seems to chafe under rules , so it doesn’t make sense that she would bound herself to such a leadership role as High Lady).

Back to the main point – the whole I’m making is that I believe that Feyre is talked about this way because so much of her character has to be muted to connect with Rhys. I think this conversation is always a consequence of Rhyland’s characterization and the novel's (and stans) rush to defend him. So many things have to be true about Feyre in order for her romance to Rhysand to be believable - and I argue that those changes are to the detriment of the traits Feyre's is initially characterized as having. And because Rhysand never has to undergo an actual character arc the pressure is placed on Feyre's character to align with the more negative traits Rhys possesses. Realistically, given how Feyre is characterized and given the whole “I hate the preening, gawking Spring Court” – I think its weird that she would immediately (1) do the exact thing in basically nothing with Rhys (2) allow herself to be turned into the most traumatic version of herself and (3) delight in random people’s pain. But because the story never asks Feyre to introspect she simply doesn’t talk about it.  And even if the story wants to go there – so much of Feyre’s healing hinges on affirming that she is good and so introducing these bad, carnal, selfish thoughts into the mix seem to undermine that.

[cannibalise]

emmm i rly. rly rly rly rly rly rlr yly rly rly rly rly rlryu rly like shrike and i talk abt him a lot privately to my friend so i wanted to ummm. make a post i guess? about him.. and similarities to corax and stuff because hes so Strange and fun and i love him

ok well first of all hes in. the rg codex supplement (8th) and ik hes mentioned in the space marine codices but i dont own them and finding pdfs isnt the easiest thing in the world (if anyone has the 5th and 4th ed ones id like to read them ToT or at least just screenshots of the raven pages or smth) the legends: shrike novella, and the short story shadow stalker. hes probably mentioned in some other stuff but as much as i want to hunt it all down because of my issues of the mind, i dont think i will be able to. coz its hard to find this stuff digitally and i dont rly wanna spend the money just to learn that hes mentioned like Once and its something i already know. i also wanna say im not like umm. well i wouldnt call myself new anymore but im definitely not like a 40k veteran. just laser focused on necrons, raven guard, and night lords. so if ive missed stuff or gotten something wrong then, u know. im getting thru stuff. i also thought abt ummm. posting screenshots of book stuff to back myself up but i dont know if thats. uhh. idk. is that too much. i dunno. i HAVE them and can get some other specific ones if anyone wants them. and obviously i can say what book theyre from and get the chapter number (not page number tho i read the chapters as big blocks rather than page by page)

anyway. the thing that sort of captured my attention at first abt him is his self destructive humility. or likeeee. almost what looks like a naked desire to die in battle, but not for personal honour or glory ('honour' as a concept in rg itself is honestly a very interesting topic to me anyway). hes just so driven and committed to the cause that if him dying to accomplish a goal or finish the mission is the easiest and most efficient way of doing that, then he thinks about it and commits to it and noone can talk him down. carefully considered recklessness is what i started calling it. he genuinely thinks about all the pros and cons and then does it anyway because his own life as the price is so easy for him to commit. and i think its super fun that hes aware of this shortcoming and its part of why he wants to find someone more suitable as chapter master (this is mentioned in the codex supplement). but SPECIFICALLY because the old master of shadows, severax, did a suicidal assassination attempt that failed and shrike looked at that and knew he wouldve done the same. because he has. in his novella. THREE times against the SAME ORK. and somehow just keeps Not Dying. silly guy... hes silly... i love him so much ToT i LIKE it about him because it feels so strange considering what hes normally like. hes hotheaded. hes highly motivated and driven and doesnt lose hope (again an interesting topic for rg coz of all the 'hope is pointless' stuff). ud think someone like that would have a rly strong drive to keep living and a survival instinct. and he does to some degree but the selflessness takes over or something. but a selflessness tht prioritises them all as an organisation? i mean this Should be normal for imperium anyway and it might be more common than im thinking, i honestly havent read a alot of imperium stuff coz i dont really care about it ! shrike to me is like 'hatred of the imperium leaving my body when i see a cute emoboy with weird issues in his head'. im a sucker for dudes that are quiet bt have that sort of burning passion inside and the fact that its entirely on the behalf of his brothers is too much. also its not totally related but something abt him in the supplement that i LOVED is an anecdote about imperial fists and iron hands having an argument over a tech relic powering a planets shields and shrike comes in and destroys it without either of them knowing so that theyre forced to stop arguing. its that simple logic. hes the type of guy that sees the shortest path to getting stuff done and just does it, regardless of the fallout. no overthinking or figuring stuff out slowly, u see an opportunity to solve a problem u take it right then and there. cut the bullshit i want you etc etc. i love this too in the novella coz even before hes promoted to captain hes arguing with his superiors about how they should keep going no matter the cost and take the shortest and most dangerous path. and another thing. he refuses every attempt at assigning him some honour or award or whatever and like u just KNOW its coz hes like 'well it wasnt me it was all of us together' or something. kayvaan 'i love my bros so much i could (and will) die' shrike

which i guess leads me to ummm. this part! similarities to corax. im STILL getting through horus heresy stuff but the more i read the more similarities i notice but theyre all like. weird picks. like i get that they probably wanted to make a chapter master that felt like corax, for multiple reasons, but they picked some Weird traits to carry over. like i dont think i would call corax hotheaded at all. hes very restrained and definitely does anger (especially when it involves the lycaeus-born ravens and the raptors) but hes too good at keeping a cap on it. to the point that i think this is ultimately his downfall. tho thats, personally speaking and im not like a Massive corax fan i just know him a little. im not staying over at his house for him. im getting chased out of his sons window in the morning instead. ...anyway. the point is that hes much more reserved and restrained. but because of that he also has the belief that there will come a time when hes able to withdraw and let someone else lead the ravens while he does... whatever he wants i guess? i havent seen it mentioned which is a shame coz it would change things a lot depending on what he intends to do. anyway this is mentioned in a lot of the things ive read with him actually. this is a trait he shares with shrike. but because of the differences in circumstance its connotation feels really different. like corax is a primarch, hes sort of marked out no matter what he does afterwards, and hes not rly like ummm. an arts and humanities guy like some of the others. on top of not even realising that hes reinforcing the tyranny that he fought to destroy on his own world. but thats a different topic entirely lol (one that i LIKE because i love tragic irony and the way he seems oblivious to it coz at the time he was so excited over meeting his new brothers (this is from deliverance lost)). anyway god that was a tangent, the POINT was that shrike also wants to give up his role and let someone else be master of shadows because hes too aware of how his recklessness isnt suitable for a leader at that level and has split the chapter up to hopefully have them all hardened and capable and able to take over for him. and then u just know hes gonna go back to trying to kill himself for the cause all the time until it finally sticks. shrike has that clear goal and hes picking the shortest path to it as usual. whereas corax broods a little more and maybe overthinks things. so its the same self awareness and the same wanting to withdraw from their positions but for totally different reasons, and i rly like the contrast. also its just Comical how corax has to tell his legionaries to simmer down and that "victory is its own revenge" instead of running off to kill some specific guys you hate. and then on the other side u have 'shadow captain maybe this isnt a good idea' 'shadow captain you will die' 'shadow captain ple-' and hes gone. hes already gone. hes jumping into his own death again. and shrike DOES HAVE corax's levelheadedness but theyre used to nefarious ends of him thinking about the stupid thing hes gonna do and then doing it anyway. hes using all of his traits from corax for silly things.

anyway sorry i think im done i might kill myself over the embarrassment of writing this later we'll see please dont laugh at me im a sensitive gay little emoboy and kayvaan shrike is my passion

[pffbts]

Well, it's one of those midnight where I stay awake, blinding my eyes with some contents of the phone that content me, comfort me. And I happened to stumble across your works, no scratch that, they aren't mere works anymore. Im not here to disturb you or distract you. I'm well aware of the goodbye that you bid to us. But...I don't know, I feel so connected with your words? Connected with the way you wrote? I know I'm blabbering, but I don't know, something in me said that I should definitely write this for you. I'm just thankful for whatever you left here for us, im thankful that I found you, your blog. Something about your whole blog is delicate, comforting, welcoming. And I happened to need that to fill my heart with some sort of reassurance even though I have this accompanied bittersweet feeling. I'm just truly, truly, grateful for the miracles you wrote. I was honestly crying, it made me feel better. I don't know how to evince this huge reverence I suddenly got over you.

But I'm just, thankful. So,so, thankful.

(this is a long reply, i'm extremely sorry)

“I don’t know how to evince this huge reverence I suddenly got over you.”

at 8 in the morning when you wake up, after the glaring indian sun hits your face and you read such words woven together into such a string of emotions, to be fair, what did i even expect to feel other than bittersweet happiness and a bit flabbergasted?

i wish there were words more meaningful than the boring ‘thank you(s)' because truly, you’ve left me speechless. all i can say is that my imperfect heart receives your praises and thoughts with all the warmth in the world and i hope even the lil bit of that warmth traverses through all the time zones that divide us against our wishes and gives you strength to carry on with your life, @tannedami.

regardless of my absence, i still want my blog to be one of the many corners for a breath of relief for all of you. this was once my escape, i'm grateful that the place i escaped to, a home i built amidst all my griefs became a shade under which you all take a breather from the glaring sun that represents each and every one of your lives.

it was the sole reason i left my blog untouched. i deleted not a single one of my letters or fics. i kept them all, even the unfinished and imperfect ones. my only hope was that in my farewell in every sense, a piece of me will always stay on the internet to give you all solace. in a world that flows parallel to yours, mine and all of the others, i hope my words move close to your home just to feel the air that surrounds you. in that world, my words carry all your griefs and your shortcomings like wearing rings that have all of your's names engraved on the insides.

[ID: “Even without knowing each other’s stories, we create moments of love that bridge the gap.”]

thank you for making me remembered as someone whom you pass by once in a while when you’re walking back home and that will always be enough.

this ask of yours reminded me a lot of some of those memorable asks from the past in this blog. an anon once wanted to write down the 2-part dad!hobi fic i wrote once as requested by them (tbh i found it a bit silly but at the same time quite endearing), another once sent me a dm about how they have screenshotted a letter they requested once during my talk to bangtan requests and now or then they would go back and read it for comfort. i also remember someone a year or two ago said how i almost saved their life during a low moment of their life and i still cannot for the life of me comprehend all these affections that i once and still now get from readers like you who take strolls through my little humble blog. you all should know that as much as you guys tell me how much i comfort you, these words from you all give me the strength to push the stubborn boulders that stand in my wretched life's road and keep walking on. life will keep happening and i will fight on as much as i can. i might always still wish i didn’t stay to see the new morning of the next day, but i want to keep myself going till there’s nothing left of me.

and, you and everyone must do the same. you have to. after all, there must be a reason why we were born into this damned world, right? even in passing, we must live a little in the minds of humans around us (and if you are lucky enough to have a pet, your existence is a miracle to them. trust me.)

i don’t know much about the reverence you talk about, Ami, perhaps it’s simply your emotions that has been catalyzed by my works. but really, i don’t feel myself to be deserving of any of it (this is my self-conscious, self-loathing persona talking, don’t mind her). i wish you a healthy life above anything. happiness will come and go but life will keep going on in various different shapes. we simply have to fit in. so be well because you will need a lot of strength for that, Ami.

sending all my love.

―K

[seumyo]

OMGGG CONGRATS ON 1K EUMY MY LOVE!!! im beyond words that describe happy for u ur such a sweetheart u deserve it sm<3 I SAW THE SCRAPBOOKS POST AND ID LOVE A SHOTO TODOROKI ONE!!!! 💗

im an enfp so im a loud extrovert, and i try to make sure ppl dont feel awkward or embarrassed around me bc im 10x worse HAHA 😭 i have insane attachment issues like i was crying so hard when my friend ignored me for a day. big lover with big emotions, hopefully that counts as an emotional intelligent person hehe<3

i am also a complete art kid and i never stop drawing, im also in choir and stage band so im basically all of the above (except sports. does watching haikyuu count?🤔) HAHAHAHA

id love a little description about our dynamic or something!!🥹 and be free w ur colour palette and do what u think deems best 🗣️!!! a song would be velvet ring by big thief, one of my favs rn<3

THANK USM EUMY UR THE SWEETEST AND ONCE AGAIN CONGRATUALTIONS ON THAT DESERVED 1K!!!

ᯓ★ SHOTO + SAKU!

★ Todoroki Shouto hated did not like you at first. The first time you two met in U.A., not once did he glance in your direction. Don’t take it too personally, he’s battling inner turmoil stemming from his complicated family life and upbringing.

★ Skipping to when he does warm up to the rest of the class, he still keeps his distance from them as he tries to test the waters. Now, you, dear Saku, are the first to invite him to have lunch together via the crumpled paper you left on his desk during free period (he almost threw it in the trash, but he telephatically felt your distress thought it might contain something important, so he decided to read it). He accepts, of course.

★ Lunch together was awkward, but Todoroki appreciates your effort to fill in his shortcomings in the conversation. So to say, he just listens to you while you ramble about anything and everything.

★ When he gets home that night, he definitely tells Fuyumi that someone invited him to eat together at lunch, and that it was nice. He doesn’t realize that he kept your note neatly folded in his wallet.

★ Do you know the concept of personal space? Todoroki does not. Whenever you’re doing something, whether it’s doodling or writing notes, he will peer over and check whatever it is that you’re doing. Completely unaware that he, too, has attachment issues (trust).

★ “Am I too close? I’m sorry, I didn’t notice.” And you guys were inches from kissing each other!

★ Romantically, it takes him a long time to understand that what he was feeling is clearly not platonic anymore. But when he does realize thus, he skips the steps in his head and wants to spend the rest of his days with you (you’re not even dating yet, and he’s already thinking of the future ten years later). Todoroki’s hesitant to engage in a romantic relationship because he thinks that you deserve someone who wouldn’t hesitate to court you and love you openly (he’s worried that he’ll end up like his father).

★ The initial dynamic is someone who talks a lot and the other listens (with the most lovestruck eyes yet still unnoticeable). When you do get into a relationship, he’ll still treat you just like when you were friends, but with a bit more effort to show you how much he cares. Acts of service & Quality Time are his love languages. This man is your ride-or-die forever and would go through lengths just to spend time with you (cue to Todoroki just appearing by your side whenever you’re not busy).

★ Whenever Todoroki talks to other people, it’ll always be, “Oh, where are Saku and the others?” You will always be the first person that comes out of his mouth, an unconscious habit of his.

★ Matching bag charms, candid photos (of him, mostly), handwritten notes that are passed to each other during class, enjoying each other’s company even if you two are just walking to the cafeteria together or him waiting for you to tie your shoelaces (he does them himself further into the relationship), finding out that Todoroki kept most of the things you gave him (especially your little notes and doodles), and the tips of his ears turn a bit reddish whenever he’s flustered—and you’re the only one to notice because it only happens when he’s with you.

[merlincersei]

Merlin BBC UK TV Show - A Psychological Analysis Series Part 6

Merlin’s relationship with Morgana and Gwen

I genuinely feel Morgana and Gwen were supposed to parallel Arthur and Merlin’s relationship.

Arthur is a royal without magical powers being attended by a servant with magic, whereas Morgana is a royal with magical powers attended by a servant without magic.

Refer Post Here Outlining My Foundation Of My Analysis Series:

Kilgaragh is Merlin's Id whereas Morgause is Morgana’s Id.

Gauis serves as the superego for Merlin, however Morgana does not have one.

Merlin almost wanted to become her superego but because he has not reconciled his ego with the Id and superego, he fails and makes the disastrous decision to poison her.

In absence of a superego Morgana is absolutely at the mercy of the Id ergo Morgause.

Merlin’s apprehension towards Morgana stemmed from the fact they were similar people in similar circumstances.

Merlin can sense the turmoil within Morgana but does not have means to help her without compromising his own identity. It also stems from being threatened by people who remind them of their own shortcomings. Morgana turmoil with self identity is also something merlin struggles with.

With Gwen, I always felt she was a conduit for Merlin.

A substitute for himself . Gwen being a servant like merlin could cross the strict social hierarchy between a servant and prince with heteronormative acceptance than merlin ever could.

I always felt merlin subconsciously enchanted Arthur and Gwen to fall in love. I will discuss this in subsequent posts

[fonulyn]

I've been thinking about Infinite Darkness again, as one does lol, and especially why I'm not super fond of Claire in it. it's been hard to come to terms with that because I started out loving Claire, she's always been one of my favorites, she's fierce and loyal and does anything she has to for what she considers to be the right thing, the fair thing. I love her fierce attitude in re2 remake, and I despite Degeneration's shortcomings as a movie I loved how Claire was portrayed in it, that she'd chosen her own path and she was working tirelessly to make the world a safer place her own way.

which is also why I don't agree with the take that she was sidelined in ID because she didn't get to go in guns blazing, because to me it felt very natural to her almost anti-gun stance in Degeneration, AND because holy shit people a female character does not need to go around waving weapons to be badass?? she does the brainy thing, she figures out the entire conspiracy on her own, but she gets no credit for that feat?? bc she doesn't shoot enough guns?? yeah no. she did great. but I digress.

so, I went into ID loving Claire and came out of it annoyed as hell, feeling like she'd been betrayed and done dirty, but it's so hard to put a finger on why exactly. there's something about how she acts, something about how she specifically interacts with other people, that feels so awkward and so unlike her. she's so needlessly antagonistic, for one.

(and the ramble continues under a cut bc this got long)

and honestly, I think the main issue I have with her is that they dumbed her down. she's not an idiot. and somehow she still apparently assumes that a government agent can just answer all her questions and spill all secrets, and then she gets huffy when he doesn't? I get it that it sucks being dismissed by a friend, but at the same time they're not interacting as friends there, but as representatives of their respective organizations. I can't assume my doctor friend would spill all the info on her patients just because we're friends, exactly like I wouldn't tell her private info about my students. sometimes a person's job does come in the way. and Claire should be clever enough to know that and not just get pissy when she doesn't get what she wants.

and even bigger issue is the ending scene. it starts off so nice, all joking, and then when Leon says that he thought he told Claire not to do anything stupid while clearly in on the joke, Claire suddenly goes all "HEY I'M JOKING"?? yeah Claire, we know, everyone knows, but suddenly she decides to flip a switch and go from joking to angry.

and the "when are you going to stop treating me like a kid" line? it's just blatantly wrong. in re2? they don't even spend that much time together but when they do, they clearly treat each other as equals. in Degeneration? another character dismisses Claire and Leon immediately jumps in to defend her and let them know how capable she is. he and Claire talk about different paths, but in no way is it ever even hinted at that one of the paths would be better or worse than the other. there's never ever been anything but mutual respect between them. and I think it's a huge disservice to both to just dimiss that.

AND the infamous Chip of Destiny™. again, Claire is not stupid. she should know that the conspiracy goes deeper than just Wilson, and just exposing him will drive all the rest of the bad guys deeper underground where they'll be impossible to find. and even more importantly, exposing that information would paint the most ginormous target on her back, she'd be hunted down. and while that might be a risk she's willing to take, she also should respect that it's not something Leon is willing to do to her.

(I'm not saying Leon is blameless in that scene either, he could've spelled it out for her, like he did to Shen May earlier on. he could've at least tried to explain his side. instead he just clams down and makes things worse. I understand his motivations, he thinks he can dismantle the corruption from the inside (erroneously as we know but he's operating with way more limited info than we are) and he doesn't want to put Claire in danger. but damnit boy, open your mouth and say it, if not in that many words then at least some vague version of it!)

so yeah, I think that sums up my biggest issues with Claire in ID. she clearly is bright and can use her brain but then she has a couple of moments where she just. doesn't. for some reason. and how she's so needlessly antagonistic. she's always been ready to throw down if necessary, which I've always loved, but she's never snapped at people like she does at Leon in ID. it's like she's intentionally trying to be mean and I just can't fit that into my perception of Claire, I can't.

with all that said, ID is still one of my favorites of the animated RE movies (yes it's a movie lol), it just bothers me that they did this to her. she deserved better!

[kookaburra1701]

Hi KBfriend <3

Excuse me marching in here unannounced. I decided to send some asks, and well, I thought that perhaps you might also like these questions. (Feel free to answer in your own time or ignore as your spoons allow. <3)

I know we love to talk about breaking the rules in writing and obviously, that not every piece of advice is one-size-fits all, but there is a lot to say about being able to speak with each other about what we have learned during our journey. I was wondering if you wouldn't share. (I also plan on poking some of the others to see what more we can shake out. The more the merrier, no?)

What is the most useful/helpful pieces of advice you ever received during your formal education in relation to writing?

Once you started to write, what was the most important thing that you learned about writing or its process?

Has your real life/job had any influence on your writing? If so, how?

What advice would you give to aspiring writers (be it fanfiction or original)?

Hi friend! Thank you for these asks. I will never turn down an opportunity to natter on about things, my inbox is always open!

It took me awhile to think of one, because the vast majority of my formal writing education was for nonfiction and the little bit of creative writing we were assigned was generally poetry and I HATED poetry as a kid. BUT. I distinctly remember one of my middle school English teacher saying that the worst thing our writing could be wasn't being "bad" (whether technically or narratively) The worst thing our writing could be was boring. I remember her saying she'd rather read 100 bad stories that were interesting, or at least where the author's passion shone through, than one "good" story where nothing interesting happened or the author clearly was just checking boxes about what should happen in a narrative arc. She would forget a good-but-boring story immediately while every terrible-but-interesting-and-passionate story was very unique and memorable. This leads into my answer for question 2...

When I started writing fanfic on FFN waaaaay back in 2002, I realized that some people were going to hate what I wrote no matter what - after all, I hated some perfectly fine fics for reasons that had nothing to do with their quality. The people who wanted to read the things I was writing would find me, and they did! I still have friends from way back then, even though we've all moved on to other fandoms and hobbies. So yeah, that was what I learned - fuck the haters, write EXACTLY what you want, your people will find you. It was heady stuff for someone who was always That Nerdy Weird Horse Girl in school.

Oh yeah. I was a paramedic for almost a decade. I'm now a biologist in a medical pathology department. I definitely use my knowledge of A&P and quite a bit of the trauma I witnessed and ended up being subjected to as part of the USian For Profit Healthcare system. Also, it wasn't ever my actual job (unless you count the under the table farm labor I did for a goat dairy in college) but growing up in a rural farming community and around animals has given me a big interest in the history of agriculture, and I love writing about people doing subsistence farming.

My advice builds off of my answers to 1 & 2. Don't put things in your story or write stories out of a sense of duty. Don't censor yourself because you think it might be "too much" or "turn away readers." Write (and draw and create) what you want with your whole chest. I have devoured fics that were barely readable due to atrocious grammar and spelling about characters I didn't even really like with a premise I thought was stupid and pointless because the author made it interesting, and a big part of making it interesting despite the shortcomings was how much the passion they had poured into it came through, and that they were clearly having a blast the entire time they were writing/channeling their id. This is related to something that kills me when I see it on fanfiction discussion communities especially about fics with explicit sexual content - people snickering about how obvious it is that "the author had their hands down their pants while writing this." MORE HANDS-DOWN-PANTS SMUT I SAY. NO SHAME. So I guess that's my advice. NO SHAME. Want to write the filthiest, most ✨problematic✨ smut ever? NO SHAME, WRITE THAT PORN. Want to tenderly describe every step of the main villain disemboweling a unicorn? NO SHAME, SHOW ME THAT SPARKLE BLOOD. Want to write yourself as the Maryiest Sue who ever Mary Sue'd having fun in the fictional world of your choice? NO SHAME, YOU 👏GO👏GLEN👏COCO! Life is short, and late stage capitalism robs us of joy every chance it gets. Don't rob yourself of joy.

[ciphertology]

If you haven't already! I would like to read your rant about addiction in homestuck

so i dont have any like, pre-written essays on it or anything its more like i just make scattered posts when it pops into my head + try to include it in fics (ive got a list of things i wanna take notes on during my next reread and addiction in general is one of them) but i am going to freestyle throw some thoughts down here 

breaking down addiction in homestuck requires:

-identifying the main addicts (gamzee = sopor, roxy & rose = alcohol)

-identifying how these characters are treated by the narrative* (are they allowed a voice? are they allowed to be sympathetic? dimensional?) (in gamzees case the answer is almost always no)

*not the characters. the characters can be cruel and dismissive of each other w/o it being the true takeaway of an exchange etc etc etc

there are certain things that pop up again and again in homestuck as an undesirable trait (in this case using undesirable as a negative quality that is not seen as deserving sympathy or care). addiction is one of them! reflecting on the root of the addiction isnt so important to the text as the ability to mock them for their perceived weakness and stupidity is.

roxy and gamzee in particular have similar bases to their addiction: theyre isolated, which, while a common trait in homestuck (the solitude of their irl spaces vs online spaces), is a unique isolation. theyre both without guardians to oversee them and more alienated (against their own desire not to be) from their friends than others.

roxy is one of only two humans on a post apocalyptic earth and, even tho she love love loves her friends she fades into the bg often (fitting for a void player). jane jake and dirk have their love triangle. dirk cant love her the way she wants him to and lil hal is ultimately untouchable. jane struggles to truly understand her. calliope has to interact with her through even more barriers (tangible and social, being a cherub). she just wants to feel close to someone! she wants to be put first. its sad. its painful. she doesnt want to wallow in it, and she doesnt want to potentially drive away her friends by not being silly bubbly roxy. so she turns to alcohol which helps keep her distracted and as a bonus, knocks her out for long stretches of time. it also could serve as a connection to her mother, given thats how she had access in the first place (oh, rose...).

so, roxy is the primary focus on addiction in homestuck but is she a well written example? debatable.

i love her of course and find her decently written up to a point--one point being how extremely rushed her recovery felt. the majority of act 6 is rushed. simply TOO MUCH is happening off screen. and this is where id really need a reread & notes to refresh…ive got a major in gamzeeism minor in lalondeism here. and gamzees addiction is easier to talk about bc he is initially a stoner joke, then an ableist psychotic stereotype, and ultimately blamed for every shortcoming both sober and high. no route is a win for him, no option would make the narrative more sympathetic to him.

idk how to end this post. uh. hope this was at all what you were hoping for. peace

[saltiestgempearl]

uhh peridot SU for the ask meme? i liked her a lot when i was younger and since you take SU characters thought id try lol

Sexuality Headcanon: While it's not technically canon since it didn't explicitly show up in the show, Maya Petersen (one of the show's storyboard artists) said that Peridot is written as aroace, so the fandom (myself included) generally agrees that she's canonically aroace.

Gender Headcanon: I believe all Gems are canonically nonbinary, so she's defintely enby. Other than that, I'm not sure! I don't think she knows either lol. I think the concept of gender would fascinate her though.

A ship I have with said character: while I've very gradually warmed up a little to Lapis and Peridot as a queer platonic ship, I actually enjoy her dynamic with Amethyst a lot more. Can't decide if I like them more as just friends or more a QP thing though.

A BROTP I have with said character: I already talked about Amethyst and Peridot so I'm going to say Garnet and Peridot! The amount of love and trust between those two is phenomenal. And I know I'm cheating but this is so closely followed by Steven and Peridot I can't NOT mention it.

A NOTP I have with said character: Used to be Peridot and Lapis, but again, I've since calmed down a bit about them. I just. Really didn't like how their relationship started (and how the events of Back to the Barn were just never adequately addressed as something other than a shortcoming of Lapis, I guess??) But now? Maybe....I mean I almost feel like it's cheating to mention a "Steven x Gem" ship in any more-than-friendship way because that just generally makes me uncomfy, so I'll go with...Jasper and Peridot. Though I do think they could be friends now!

A random headcanon: Peridot 100% writes Camp Pining Hearts fanfiction.

General Opinion over said character: I love her so much! I love her personality, I love her arc, I love everything she brought to the story. I really love her voice too.

[crehador]

alphabet challenge 2023 round 2 final report

have made absolutely zero progress in cutting down my planning list (in fact i think it’s longer than when i started this round lol) but watched another 11 one-cour anime, 2 tv shorts, and 1 movie

full list with some thoughts here, three most notable series under the cut (beware spoilers)

actual best: gotta give this one to hourou musuko with the caveat that i do think it’s an imperfect adaptation, and i suspect it most shines in its original manga form (which i haven’t read yet but look forward to checking out one day)

it’s very possible i just haven’t read/watched broadly enough, but off the top of my head i can’t think of a more sincere and real portrayal of trans adolescence (or just transness in general, honestly) in animanga

i think in my notes i called it something like messy and clumsy, and i meant that in a good way; it’s messy and clumsy in ways that feel authentic and even deliberate, though for sure some parts of that are due to limits of the adaptation

the anime does imo get off to a somewhat disorienting start, we’re dropped straight into the lives of these kids who already have a deeply complicated past with one another, and it takes some time for that past to take shape

being told chronologically might have helped this story (and maybe the manga does do that) but it still felt like a very solid adaptation despite its shortcomings, and its strengths more than made up for its weaknesses (which i feel weren’t the fault of the story but rather the production, like with two of the final episodes being condensed into one for airing before being released in full as specials? yeah that doesn’t sound ideal)

personal fave: was pleasantly surprised and very entertained by id:invaded! it’s very inception-esque, and i don’t mean just because of the diving into someone’s (sub)consciousness and dream (well) within a dream (well) stuff

i’ve always felt like inception had a solid story but blank slate cast, as in its characters all filled specific functions and archetypes but weren’t really the most nuanced or... characterized, so to speak (and imo that’s why they were so easily fandomizable, so i don’t actually think it’s a bad thing that they just did what they were put there to do)

id:invaded makes me feel the same way, in that the plot itself is much stronger than the cast, though i imagine if it had been a two-cour series it would have used its additional time well and fleshed out the cast some more

it’s very easy to compare id:invaded to psycho-pass as well, and while i’d say in terms of plot/mystery/worldbuilding they’re almost on equal footing, psycho-pass does way more and way better with its characters (but of course psycho-pass had a lot more time)

that said, i did still like the characters of id:invaded, they were just fleshed out enough for you to start projecting your own ideas onto them, and the more they marinated in my head the more i enjoyed them (though for reasons that largely weren’t on the page tbh)

this one was honestly a strong contender for ‘actual best’ as well, because i think there are some things it did incredibly well, like not underestimating the viewer and over-telling in its writing

like you’ve got id wells (the pun of which, by the way, i felt the subs did a great job of explaining fluidly) and you’ve got kaeru-chan in the id wells, and the show never shoves the frog in a well imagery into your face, it doesn’t bother to go “you know *wink wink nudge nudge* like the proverb” it lets you put some of these things together yourself

(similarly, really loved that they didn’t outright say fukuda got all his piercings before putting a hole in his head, they let you imagine it yourself, how he must have gotten piercing after piercing and they never felt like enough, it’s just better to not have that stated outright, the obvious conclusions are obvious enough)

biggest disappointment: seikaisuru kado solely for the ending and i’m not even talking about the deaths or anything (ryo expy should kill akira expy after all) it was just a rushed and poorly written, poorly executed ending that brought an overall good series crashing down

[patrice-bergerons]

You know that the school of thought that says queer narratives focused on [insert]-phobia are depressing, trite and relics of the past, and what we ought to celebrate as true marks of progress are narratives freed from such -phobias even where doing so runs foul of accurate descriptions of the place/time period?

It always, always rubbed me the wrong way and there is nothing like watching a good Russell T Davies drama to remind you that exploring joy and humour and the impact of homophobia are not mutually exclusive. You don't have to pretend it doesn't exist to have a good story that's not only about suffering. And while there may be a space for stories completely free from this conflict we deny ourselves so much depth if we demand it of every story or else label it outdated.

[homoose]

Teach Me Something I Don’t Know: Part I

Summary: When Will asks him to pick Michael up from school, Spencer may or may not develop a schoolboy crush on the kindergarten teacher.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff

Warnings/Includes: none

Word count: 2.5k

a/n: Here she is! I’m not sure exactly what it is about Spencer Reid x teacher!reader, but it is my most requested fic topic, and I am happy to oblige! This is the first in a multi-part series. Weird is Good also takes place in this verse. Any teacher!reader requests will be folded into this verse as well, so feel free to continue sending me those!

Series Masterlist

Click here for the story mentioned, read by everybody’s fave Michelle Obama.

———

“A strong geographical profile is one of the most important pieces of the overall behavioral profile; it significantly narrows the area the team has to cover, allows for law enforcement teams to prioritize and maximize limited resources, and helps focus the investigation in conjunction with the other elements of the profile. And that wraps our section on building geographical profiles!” Spencer smiled at the faces in front of him, gesturing to the board. “The information we covered today will make up a significant portion of your midterm, so make sure to review it before next week. See you all next Thursday!”

As his students began packing up their things, Spencer’s phone rang from inside his bag. When he retrieved the phone and saw Will’s name on the caller ID, his brow furrowed in concern. “Will— everything ok?”

“Hey, yeah, yeah, everything’s fine,” he assured him. “I’m sorry to ask, but JJ’s on a case, and my partner and I just finished our last call clear on the other side of the city. Henry’s got soccer practice, but Michael’s gotta be picked up in about— well, shit, right about now. Would you mind picking him up and bringing him ‘round to the house?”

Spencer looped the strap of his bag over his shoulder and started up the aisle out of the lecture hall. “Yeah, of course! It’s over by the Naval Observatory, right?”

“Yeah, that’s the one. If you pull ‘round the parking lot, they usually come out the side door. His teacher’s real sweet, Ms. Y/L/N. I’ll let her know you’re picking him up.”

“Okay, sounds good.” Spencer pushed open the door and made his way down the hall.

“You’re the best,” Will drawled. “I’ll only be about half an hour.”

…

When Spencer pulled the baby blue Volvo into the parking lot of the school, he saw Michael and Ms. Y/L/N sitting on the steps of school. Their heads were so close they were almost touching, looking down at a book laying across their laps. Her legs were stretched out straight and she pointed down to the page, saying something that made Michael throw his little head back in a laugh that floated in through the open window of the car. Spencer grinned at the familiar sound as he pulled around the carpool loop.

When he recovered from the giggles, Michael caught sight of the car and waved his hand excitedly at Spencer. Ms. Y/L/N looked up and gave a wave as well, albeit a little less vigorous. She closed the book and turned her torso slightly to unzip Michael’s backpack and drop the book into it.

Spencer put the car in park, stepped out, and walked around the car to meet the two of them. Michael was already up and running, throwing himself at Spencer’s legs and hugging them tightly. He leaned down to return the hug. “Hey, buddy! How was school?”

“It was amazing,” Michael gushed, pulling out of the hug to gesture wildly. “We learned how to write the zzz sound, and now we know all the sounds! Oh, and then we used blocks in math, and that was so fun, because Ms. Y/L/N let us build with them when we were done counting. Oh, and then we learned about frogs, and they are so cool. Did you know that frogs have night vision? Oh, and Ms. Y/L/N said I could borrow my favorite book from the classroom library! She read it to me already while we were waiting for you, but maybe you could read it to me, too? I can read some of the words but not all of them yet, so I still need some help.”

Spencer smiled widely at him. “Wow, that does sound like an amazing day. I did know that about frogs, actually! And of course, I’d love to read with you.”

“The book’s called Giraffe Problems, and it’s about this giraffe named Edward who doesn’t like his neck.” Michael looked at Ms. Y/L/N. “What’s the turtle’s name again?”

“Cyrus,” Ms. Y/L/N reminded him.

“Right, Cyrus.” He looked at Spencer. “See, that one is tricky because c’s don’t usually make the sss sound, but sometimes they do. Ms. Y/L/N’s teaching me about it, even though she said it’s kinda hard for kindergarten.”

“Because you’ve got a big, powerful brain, right?” she said, tapping her temple and winking at Michael. “I’m Ms. Y/L/N, by the way. You must be the infamous uncle Spencer. I’ve heard a lot about you.” Then she smiled at him and his big, powerful brain melted inside of his skull.

Michael continued talking, and Spencer briefly wondered if this is how people felt when he rambled. Michael lost his attention immediately, because all he could do was stare at Ms. Y/L/N. Her eyes glinted with humor as he chattered on. She followed his expressive motions with well-timed nods and mhmms, a skill she’d no doubt honed through years of indulging kindergarten babbling. She met Spencer’s eyes every so often, only a slight eyebrow raise indicating her amusement. Her hair had been tied back, but soft pieces had come loose throughout the day, falling into her face and around her shoulders. Up close, he could see that the print of her collared a-line dress was hundreds of green frogs. On her feet were a pair of beat up, low top converse, and Spencer thought he could physically feel the crush branding the chambers of his heart. He was jolted out of his thoughts by Michael’s hand tugging on his pant leg, and he looked down to see him looking up expectantly.

“Sorry, what?” Spencer asked him.

“I said,” Michael repeated with a sigh, “can we look up the author and see if he has any other books?”

“Oh, um, yeah. Of course, buddy.”

“Jory John has lots of amazing books,” Ms. Y/L/N confirmed. “You’ll love the series he wrote with Pete Oswald.” She smiled at the pair of them before checking her watch. “I’ve gotta go pack up, but I’ll see you tomorrow, Michael.” She winked at Spencer, and he almost swallowed his tongue. “It was nice meeting you, uncle Spencer.” She waved again and then turned up the stairs to disappear into the building.

Spencer let out a breath he didn’t even realize he’d been holding, and then turned to Michael. “Well. All right, are you ready to go home?”

…

They were settled into the car and halfway home before Michael finally needed to take a breath. Spencer capitalized on the break in conversation.

“So, Ms. Y/L/N seems pretty cool,” Spencer hedged.

“Yeah, she’s the best,” Michael confirmed with a nod. “On Fridays she lets us put on the smocks and paint. And she has really good story voices. Oh, and she also has these really cool blocks that stick together—magnet blocks. And when I fell off the jungle gym and got a big scrape, she gave me a Paw Patrol bandaid! And she gives great hugs.”

“Good story voices, huh?” Spencer met Michael’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “Better than mine?”

Michael tilted his head in deep thought. “Hmmmm. It’s pretty close. Your wizard voice is good, but she does accents.”

Spencer blew out a dramatic breath. “Guess I’m going to have to up my game.”

“You’re gonna have to practice a lot, because Ms. Y/L/N reads to us every day.” Michael raised his eyebrows in a challenge.

“Hey!” Spencer looked incredulous. “I read every day, too!”

“Yeah, but do you read with story voices every day?” Michael clarified.

Spencer sighed. “Well, I guess not.”

“It’s okay, uncle Spencer,” Michael soothed. “You can’t be the best at everything.”

“So they are better than mine?”

Michael pressed his lips together, and Spencer almost laughed at how much he looked like JJ. “... maybe.”

…

A trail of shoes and school supplies led to the couch, where Spencer and Michael sat shoulder to shoulder. They were on their second read of Giraffe Problems. Spencer took a long, dramatic breath before launching into Cyrus’ banana speech, and Michael burst into a fit of giggles. With his best theatrical voice, Spencer read down the page. “Yet, day after day, I’ve felt like such a fool as I stretched my neck toward those greedy branches, only to be limited by my own physical shortcomings.” He flipped the page and changed his tone. “You… want a banana from a tree?” He looked at Michael and said, quickly and in a low voice, “That’s what I said, yes.” Michael wheezed out another laugh.

Spencer finished the story, Michael mouthing the words along with him. When they reached the last page, Spencer softly closed the book and propped his feet up on the coffee table. “That’s a pretty great story.”

“Yeah,” Michael agreed. “Ms. Y/L/N said she likes it because it reminds us that we gotta love ourselves and our bodies for how they are.”

Spencer nodded. “Absolutely. We’re all different, and that’s what makes us special.”

“Yeah. I just really like when he’s wearing all the scarves.” Michael burst into another fit of laughter, and Spencer couldn’t help but laugh with him.

The front door opened, and Will was smiling as he stepped over the threshold. “I could hear y’all laughing all the way down the sidewalk.”

“Daddy!” Michael jumped up from the couch, and Will bent to scoop him up, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“Hey, kiddo. Sorry I couldn’t pick you up. It sure sounds like you and uncle Spencer had fun, though.” He shot Spencer a wide smile.

“We read Giraffe Problems. Can we read it again later?” Michael asked.

“Sure thing. We can read it before bedtime.” Will set him down, furrowing his brow. “Wait, Giraffe Problems? Is that a new one?”

Michael shook his head. “Ms. Y/L/N let me borrow it from the library. I have to give it back in two weeks.”

“Man, Michael, you really lucked out, huh?” Will posited. “Ms. Y/L/N is so good to you.”

“Jeez, everybody’s saying that today,” Michael sighed. “Yes, Ms. Y/L/N is amazing, we all know this.”

“All right, sass monster. I didn’t know uncle Spencer thought she was amazing, too.” Will grinned. “We gotta go pick up Henry in a few minutes. I’ll get you a snack, and you can pick up your things?” He gestured to the mess of shoes and school supplies in the foyer.

Spencer smiled sheepishly. “That’s probably my fault. We were just so excited to read the book.”

“Ah yeah, I know how he gets.” Will crossed to the kitchen. “A one track mind, that one. Thanks again for picking him up today.”

Spencer stood from the couch and followed, hands stuffed in his pockets. “It’s no problem at all! I can do it any time.”

“Well, I don’t want to bother y—”

“It’s not a bother!” Spencer schooled his voice back into a normal register at Will’s raised eyebrow. “It—It’s not a bother at all. I, um— I have a lot of free time when I’m on sabbatical. Especially since I’m only teaching one course this semester. Plus, I love seeing the boys.”

“I’ll remember that.” Will smiled. “So… Ms. Y/L/N’s amazing, huh?”

Spencer just knew that his cheeks were as red as the apple Will was cutting up. He tried to shrug nonchalantly. “Yeah, she was— she was really nice.”

“She’s not bad looking, either,” Will supplied. When Spencer’s mouth fell open, Will continued, “What? JJ thinks so, too. Don’t tell me you didn’t even look, because I know that’s a lie.”

Spencer sputtered, “I— well, I—”

“Daddy, can we get an ice-cream on the way home?” Michael interrupted, completely unfazed.

Will laughed. “Saved by the bell, uncle Spencer. Yeah, buddy, we can get ice-cream.”

…

“It’s not weird to look her up. I just want to know more about the person who’s educating my godson,” Spencer tried to reassure himself as he pulled up the school’s website. He scrolled to find the teacher pages, a little smile crossing his face when he saw Ms. Y/L/N’s picture— white ruffled shirt, red bow, and black hat. A perfect tribute to Mary Poppins.

He dropped his smile. “She barely said five sentences to you, and you didn’t say anything back.” His eyes wandered over the links on the side, landing on the About Me section. “But she did say she’d heard a lot about you, so it’s only fair that you get to know a little about her.” Against his better judgment, he clicked the page link. A photo of Ms. Y/L/N— grinning and holding a very distraught-looking black cat— popped up on the screen, and Spencer laughed aloud.

I grew up on a farm outside of Fayetteville, NC before moving to Boston to complete my undergraduate degree. I moved to DC to earn my Master’s in Early Childhood Education, and I have been teaching here for 8 years! I love working with young learners, because children grow so much in their foundational years. Watching a child have a lightbulb moment is one of my greatest joys. When I'm not in the classroom, I love to read, travel, play scrabble, and spend time with my cat Roald (pronounced Roo-all)!

Spencer scrolled through the pictures of Ms. Y/L/N and her students. There were pictures in their “smocks,” which Spencer discovered were really just old t-shirts. There was one of her in the middle of some very animated story telling, and another of a field trip to the zoo. In each one, the smiles beamed out through the computer screen in a digital portrait of unbridled joy, contagious even over the waves of the internet. Smiling to himself, he clicked on the tab labeled Teaching Philosophy.

I believe that every child is an extraordinary and essential piece of our classroom puzzle. In order to nurture the unique individuality of each of my students, I work hard to make our classroom a safe, positive, and supportive community where students are given the space to express themselves. Our classroom culture is also one of kindness and creativity, where each individual is valued and celebrated for who they are!

Spencer swallowed the unexpected lump in his throat as he thought back on his own school career. While his teachers had always appreciated his intelligence, he honestly couldn’t recall a moment where he had felt valued for just… being himself. The majority of his time in school had been spent unsuccessfully fending off bullies, completing other students’ homework, or being gawked at like some sort of alien. He was grateful that Michael would hopefully never go through anything like what he’d experienced; at least not while Ms. Y/L/N was around.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he leaned back in the desk chair to pull it out. He swiped it open to read the incoming text.

JJ: So......... you like Ms. Y/L/N, huh? 😉😉😉

Spencer: What?! Did Will tell you that? I didn’t say that.

JJ: Some things you don’t have to say out loud, Spence.

———

Tags: @spacedikut

[rosierin]

Studying with you

pairing: tsukishima x fem!reader

synopsis: after finding out about your gradually decreasing grades, your teacher urges you to change your studying methods and decides to find you a tutor among the class. shame that tutor is literally the biggest jerk known to man. you swear he knows nothing but insults and that his heart is made of stone. or is it?

genre: fluff

type: oneshot

word count: 1.6k

a/n: i hate love this guy, srsly

"Oi, (y/n). Wake up, we're not finished." 

Your head jerks up and you let out a loud, drawn out groan as your eyes refocus on the man in front of you. He's sneering, same as usual, and you wish you could suddenly go back to dream land where you were happily baking cookies with Hinata and Kageyama. 

Beneath your arms are two gaping algebra textbooks. One is riddled with scribbly notes and an unnecessary amount of pointless doodles, except the one of Tsukishima— scowling with a head drawn way too big compared to the rest of his skinny body. The other is filled with neat, detailed formulas, pastel highlights and all the correct answers which you've been struggling to find for the past two hours.

"I'm up, I'm up, geez.." You yawn with your head still on the table and look up at Tsukishima with drowsy eyes. "You could've woken me up a little nicer, ya know."

"Yeah.. no. How about you hurry up and finish so I can go home?" He looks more than done at this point and huffs, pointing at a formula jotted messily on your paper. "And you got that one wrong again, by the way."

You squint at your work, then realize he was right. "Oh. My bad."

Wanting to get things over with, you get back to work but your eyelids are so heavy it's ridiculous. Not to mention your brainpower has reached its limit.

You can feel your grip on your pen loosen as you try and correct your work but before you know it, your head drops again, only to be jolted awake by a sudden smack to the back of the head with what feels like a textbook.

"What the— Do you mind?!" You snap. 

Tsukishima doesn't react to your outburst in the slightest, just nods to your unfinished work with a look of lazy authority. "Algebra." He stares at you with a deadpan expression when you pout. "Now." 

"Fiiine." You sigh, annoyed that your puppy dog eyes didn't work on Tsukishima. Not that you thought they would. Tsukishima didn't seem like the type to particularly like animals, except maybe for dinosaurs. He had a small keychain of one buried deep within his pencil case, you found. "You know, you'd make a terrible teacher."

This time, it's Tsukishima's turn to yawn, stretching his long limbs and you have to force yourself not to focus on the pull of his lean muscles despite yourself. Then, he turns to look at you with a look of false innocence. "Sorry, go on?"

"I hate you."

"Great. Now ask me if I care."

You suck in through your teeth as you hold back from socking the blonde straight in the face. He's been sassing you non-stop since the beginning of your study session and you'd think you'd be used to his perpetual cocky remarks by now but alas, he was still a huge pain in your ass.

"Where're you going?" You ask as Tsukishima gets up from his chair that's in front of your desk, dusting the eraser shavings off your textbooks.

"Aw. Think you'll miss me?"

You bite your lip down and he notices, smirking contently before deciding to answer: "going to get some water. That question better be finished by the time I get back."

He's gone before you can retort, long legs granting him a quick escape. However halfway down the hallway you hear him add: "or I'll make you do three more."

Great.

"Yessir," you sigh, though you have absolutely no intention of following through.

You glance down at your textbooks for good measure— textbooks which are practically staring at you, and you can picture them with beady little eyes as though they're chanting— soooolve ussss.

You shudder. Man, you really were tired.

"Yeah, no. Sorry, Tsukki."

Pushing your homework aside, unfazed by your salty tutor's threats, you decide it's time for an actual break. You deserved it, right? Yeah, yeah you did. So without second thought, you let your attention drift to the scenery outside instead.

You'd been so focused on your homework (and Tsukishima's sass) that you hadn't even noticed the beautiful sunset that was now setting over the hills of Karasuno High. You always loved the way it looked at this hour, basking the buildings and tall, lush trees in its warm light. It was all too soothing, so soothing that you hadn't even realized you were once more falling asleep, eyeslids fighting to stay open until they finally gave in and what little willpower you had left, left your body.

"Right, time's up. You better be finish—"

The moment Tsukishima walks back into the classroom, eyes settling on your current state— sprawled out on your desk, mouth slightly agape and completely out cold, he's overcome with the urge to sigh.

He walks over to your desk and sits down opposite you, then as he leans his cheek into his palm, he lazily pokes your cheek— once, twice, but gets no reaction in response.

"You've got to be kidding me.." He sighs. But he decides to not bother and wake you up this time. What'd be the point? You clearly weren't in any shape to study and honestly, he didn't have the patience in him anymore to try in case it'd drive him crazy.

For a second he debates just leaving you there, passed out of your classroom desk, but quickly decides against it in case he gets an earful from your parents about leaving you alone or something. The last thing he wants is any extra trouble.

Therefore he agrees, albeit begrudgingly, to let you sleep. Just until you were rested up enough to work again.

⭐

Thirty minutes go by, you're still fast asleep.

During that time, Tsukishima took it upon himself to slip his headphones on and listen to some beats, hazel eyes flitting beyond the window to watch the last of the sunset, hoping it'd make the time go by quicker.

Usually, this would be right up his alley; peace and quiet, chill lofi and a sunset, however when sat on a painfully uncomfortable, wooden chair rather than his comfy and plump single bed, the experience was significantly less appealing. Therefore, after trying to find a comfortable sitting position and failing for the fourth time he decides to take his headphones off and focus back on his studies— he might as well, only when he reaches for his pen, he realizes it isn't there.

Amber eyes scan the table. Usually it'd be in his pencil case; he doesn't remember taking it ou—

Ah, never mind. It all makes sense when he sees it. Not in his pencil case after all, but balanced precariously between your fingers.

He rolls his eyes.

Why didn't she just use her own pen?

Reaching for it, he attempts to pull it out of your grasp only to freeze when you begin to stir.

He doesn't know why at this point— he could just wake you up, that's what he'd initially planned. But now, for some reason, there's something that prevents him from doing so. Maybe it had something to do with the way you were sleeping so peacefully.

He tries to pull at his pen again— gently— but this time, it isn't you stirring that makes him seize up, but the way your index and middle finger hook around his own.

His brain stutters.

Well, this is new.

Tsukishima's back straightens an awkward amount, completely unsure of what to do. Nothing like this has ever happened to him before. He becomes painfully aware of that. He's also painfully aware that you could possibly wake up while holding him like this.

Thankfully, you don't. And although the tenseness of his body is beginning to hurt, he still takes the time to admire your sleeping form.

You're laying crossed armed, head nestled between them, facing him. He watches your body rise and fall ever so gently, can almost hear your quiet breaths. It's picturesque, almost; the way your hair glows beneath the bright full moon. Unknowingly, his thumb twitches nearer, gravitating towards the warmth of your hand and he can almost feel—

"Enjoying yourself there?"

Suddenly he's frozen. Though it only lasts a second, for the next he's already retracted his hand, folding it under his arm like it was never there to begin with.

"Wh— How long have you been awake?"

"Long enough," you say, smiling curiously at him and for once the tables have been turned; the teased having become the teaser. "So you can be nice sometimes."

Tsukishima's expression is anything but impressed as you mock him, his face caught between confused and annoyed, and dare you say even a little bit embarrassed? He's quick to shake it off though, sparing himself of any sly comment as he regains his usual cool demeanor.

"Please. You're the one who grabbed me first," he scoffs.

"But you didn't try to move," you shoot back.

There's a strange atmosphere that settles in the room as your mishief-glinting eyes bore into his, and Tsukishima doesn't dare talk back for once, having been robbed of all witty comebacks. He hates being at a loss for words, but he hates even more so, the beginnings of a grin forming on your features, one that he knows is a result of his shortcomings.

"Whatever, (y/n) just pack up your stuff. We're done for the night," he says as he himself starts tidying his belongings.

You chuckle then nod your head. "Sure thing, sensei."

"...don't call me that."

"Sensei."

"Urgh, shut up."

⭐

⭐

⭐

Later that night, when you're lying in bed, ready to fall asleep, your eyes snap open as your phone buzzes underneath your pillow. You pull it out and press the home button, wondering who could possibly be texting you at this hour. When you do, you're surprised when it's Tsukishima's ID that pops up.

He had sent one message:

"Oh and by the way, you drool when you sleep."

[xmxisxforxmaybe]

Decryption_Error: “Master Mind”

Summary: Elliot gets fired and Y/N blames herself. She begs a part of Elliot for help as she is faced with the reality of the lengths Mr. Robot will go to in order to protect Elliot. 

A/N: The final chapter picks up right after this chapter : )

Decryption_Error: All Chapters

Word Count: 6022

One week and four days.

That’s how close we came to our one-year anniversary.

As it turned out, we actually did spend Memorial Day weekend together, but instead of being cozied up while basking in the success of our love, I had watched as Elliot was escorted out of my parents’ house in handcuffs.  

I had always considered myself to be an intelligent, well-rounded person who practiced introspection enough to identify and work on accepting my shortcomings. I could be quite critical of myself at times, but when I had gone through counseling, my therapist helped me understand that people judge themselves through an almost cruel critical lens: once I could accept I was my own harshest critic, I could move forward instead of getting sucked back into a cycle of persecution.

Elliot and I had often talked about self-persecution, but I now understood that it wasn’t just his voice that criticized him. He literally had other selves within that were passing judgement and carrying out their own agendas.

And one of those selves was about to end my relationship with Elliot, all thanks to one of my shortcomings.

Another thing I considered myself to be was more than just my father’s daughter; I had worked all through my 20s to become an individual, to become someone more than just a last name. Nepotism was normal in my world, but something about it always sat uneasy with me. Hemingway wrote about that feeling; he said immorality was anything that “made you disgusted afterwards.”

The more advantages I saw being dished out to people like myself from parents with means made me think about Hemingway’s definition of immorality. I didn’t want to walk through life with a stomach full of disgust, so I set goals with the intent of making a good life for myself and helping those I could.

My father encouraged his children to live with integrity, to practice selflessness, and most importantly, he taught us to be hungry. He encouraged us to fight against complacency because he remembered what it was to be hungry; he remembered what it was to want something, to work for it, and he remembered how meaningful it was to find a purpose.

I knew that was why Kathleen became a doctor. I knew that was why Erin became a lawyer. And I knew that was why Charlie became a teacher.

And I knew that was why I worked at a cybersecurity firm, a business that had the sole intent of providing protection. I had my purpose.  

But in that way of upbringing, my father inadvertently bred naivety. I thought more people were like us, especially those of us with financial excess. I knew about nepotism, about greed, about entitlement, but I didn’t really understand those things until Elliot was fired from CIStech.

Ali Olayan.

He was not like me. He was not like my family.

I had read Corey as the greatest threat to Elliot’s well-being, but I had read wrong.

Beneath Ali’s nonchalant exterior lived the kind of antagonist I had thought only existed in the movies; Ali lived and breathed his privilege, believing that he could craft whatever narrative he wanted for any person he chose. This was Ali’s world, and we were all just living in it.

Ali was never taught to know hunger, never taught to be selfless or encouraged to become something other than what he was. In his mind, he was already something.

It was entirely too late when I finally figured out that the resolution of the incident in the server room sat inside of Ali’s mind like a tick. And the more he thought, the bigger that parasite grew, the more unsettled Ali became that a nobody like Elliot Alderson had caused a disruption in his worldview.

To Ali, it had been a joke, not unlike one his own friends may have inflicted on countless of their schoolmates. Ali knew things like that were a joke because he had never been punished. And if there had never been a consequence for his actions, then he had never been wrong.

Until I told him he was wrong.

Until I gave him a consequence.

I had assumed that because Ali’s family was strict and that because Ali was respectful during his discipline hearing that he understood right and wrong. Instead, being reprimanded attacked his ego by opening up his mind to a barrage of things he had never cared to think about before, including morality.

The tick fattened inside of him, fostering Ali’s need for revenge.

* * * * *

Pursing my lips as I proofread my email one more time, I threw a nasty glance at my phone as it interrupted me.

By the third ring, I couldn’t ignore the compulsion to answer it, so I abandoned my email and picked up the phone.

“Yes?” I said, not bothering to glance at the ID as I saved my email as a draft.

“You need to get down here.”

“JaLeah? What is it?”

“Now, Y/N! Get down here now,” she pleaded.

“I’m on my way,” I said as I stood and hung up the phone, my mind working to process the bizarre demand of a woman I had never known to be frazzled by anything. Even the hacks hadn’t gotten her to break her calm.

“Hold my calls and cancel my 4:00,” I said with a single breath as I rushed past my secretary’s desk and to the elevator. My heel caught in the gap, and I almost stumbled face first into the glass. As I pushed for CIStech’s floor, I realized my fingers were shaking.

Elliot.

No. He would’ve at least texted me if something was up. This can’t be about him.

It’s not about him.

I tried to logic out my anxiety, reminding myself that if I let those thoughts rush forward, I wouldn’t be able to think critically.

The office collectively turned to watch my arrival, and I didn’t need time to wonder why. I could hear the muffled shouting coming from within Tim’s office.  

“Don’t,” I commanded Jayne as she reached for the intercom to announce my arrival.

Jayne sank back in her chair, her hand still hovering over the intercom as I pushed into what used to be my office—the one where I interviewed Elliot with Colin and JaLeah, where Colin, goddamn him, said that getting too close to Elliot Alderson probably never ended well for anyone.

Even as he stood with his back to the door, I could feel Elliot’s anger the second I walked in. Dread danced down my spine as I took a deep breath and wondered if this was the same Elliot-yet-not-Elliot I had met a month ago.

Tim looked up from his position at the table, his lips pressed into a thin line as he looked at me then back to his irate employee. Next to Tim sat Ali, with a smug look of satisfaction on his face.  

“You—are firing me?” Elliot raged, and just by the tone of his voice, I knew my instinct was right; this wasn’t him.

“What’s going on?” I interrupted, causing this version of Elliot to whirl around and Ali’s smugness to turn from quietly distasteful to outrightly repulsive.

As not-Elliot looked at me, I was shocked at how the anger seemed to morph his features. His jaw was tight its angularity more pronounced; his mouth was much smaller as his lips were pressed against his teeth; his eyes were big and unnerving, but the thing that nearly made me falter was that this Elliot seemed to take up so much more space. It was intimidating.

I had thought I was afraid of the side of Elliot who protected him, but I was even more afraid to realize how little I knew about this side of him.

“You can’t save him this time,” Ali said, drawing both my attention and not-Elliot’s again as his tone reflected that repulsive smirk I wanted to knock off his face.

To Ali Olayan, this was a game of revenge.

“Tim—explain.”

“Don’t listen to them,” not-Elliot growled out, his lips barely moving as I brushed past him to take the open seat on the other side of Tim.

“Sit down,” I bit back, our eyes locking for a moment before he dropped his gaze. Not-Elliot yanked out the chair and sat, a huff of breath escaping when he crossed his arms, his anger occupying a fifth seat at the table.

“Last week, Ali suggested I take a look at the data on the employee performances he ran,” Tim began. “And the results were concerning—"

“Fucking bullshit,” not-Elliot muttered, as he sullenly slumped in his chair like a teenager being disciplined.

I ignored his comment and told Tim to continue.

“The results were concerning because Alderson’s performance didn’t exactly decline so much as nosedive. It made me wonder how someone could go from 100 to 10 in the course of a few weeks.”

“Perhaps a mitigating personal circumstance, Tim. Did you consider that?” I said, trying to both avoid and use the lie about Elliot’s mother.

Tim angled his laptop toward me and clicked on the open tab beside the performance eval.

“Whatever Mr. Alderson has been doing at work, hasn’t been our work.”

Elliot moved quickly, uncrossing his arms and reaching out to slam the lid of Tim’s laptop shut.

“Your work? Your work?! This is just the sort of shit that some data jockey would pull out of their fucking asshole,” not-Elliot said, his speech slurred with irritation as he jerked back and stood, his chair wobbling from the force of his movement.

“And that’s not even the worst part of coming in to this fuckhole every day. No. It’s seeing people like you in positions of power,” he said as he whirled on Ali.

“You reek of nepotism, of never having to work for any fucking thing in your life. A script kiddie! You’ve never written an exploit from scratch in your fucking life. Relying on pulling code from Metasploit or some shit. And what’s the real fuckall of it is that you can’t code and yet you are sitting here, shitting on me, because of something YOU did! I didn’t lock myself in that server room. I didn’t think it was a fucking joke and neither did anyone but you and the other self-centered cunts you call your friends. So fuck you!”

The one who raged for Elliot stopped then, teeth bared, chest rising and falling as his hands ran once, twice through his hair before they dropped to his sides, his fingers flexing before balling into fists.  

I didn’t take my eyes off of not-Elliot as I asked, “And no one thought to ask for my input? In case you forgot, I am the General Manager and am in charge of CIStech—not either of you.”

I pulled my eyes away from not-Elliot’s and looked at Ali and at Tim. Ali had lost his smirk and Tim’s hairline was beaded with sweat.

“Well?” I prompted, my own voice rising.

“The--the data doesn’t lie,” Tim finally said quietly. “Mr. Alderson has been using company time to execute his own projects. It’s outlined as one of the most clear grounds for dismissal in the contract every employee signs when they’re hired.”

“I’m aware,” I said with a sigh, knowing he was right. If Elliot, or whoever he was, actually was using company time to work on another project, there was nothing I could do to protect him.

“What have you been working on, Elliot?”

Elliot was so angry that he actually shivered as he turned to me, his body going absolutely rigid.

I waited.

And he silently seethed.

I stood up, not-Elliot’s eyes watching my movement, not my face. I got as close to him as I dared, but when I reached out, my fingertips barely ghosting the cuff of his shirt, he snapped.

“Fuck you,” he growled out, closing the distance between us so he was inches from my face. When our eyes met, the rage that burned in this Elliot’s eyes broke something deep inside of me. “You’ve always just been one of them.”

And with those words, that broken thing shattered.

Not-Elliot ripped off his ID badge and tossed it onto the table. He didn’t look back as he yanked open Tim’s door, the doorknob slamming into the wall. I watched as muted grey chunks of painted plaster fell onto the floor.

I wanted to run after him.

I wanted to beg not-Elliot to let go of his anger.

I wanted to tell him, all of him, that I still loved him.

But I couldn’t.

I had to set the tone for the company.

I had to swallow the acid that burned in my throat as I looked at Ali.

Ali.

I tilted my chin up as I walked forward and calmly shut the door to Tim’s office.

“You targeted him,” I said slowly and clearly without turning around.  

“That’s a wild accusation, Ms. Y/L/N,” Ali replied, not bothering to hide the triumph in his voice.

“You targeted him,” I repeated as I coolly turned on my heel and walked back to the table. “You orchestrated this.”

“How the hell was I supposed to know Alderson would lose his mind—”

“Show me the data on the rest of the white hats.”

“What?” Ali asked, his eyes narrowing.

“Show me the exact same reports and their time stamps for all of the white hats on your team.”

The palpable rage that had lingered in the room morphed into an uncomfortable, equally palpable silence as Tim and I both waited for Ali to answer.

“Ali,” Tim prompted.

We waited again, the silence condemning Ali’s actions as it dug his grave.

“That’s what I thought,” I said in a low, dangerous tone. “I don’t give a damn who your parents are. You’re fired.”

“You can’t—”

“Watch me.”

I turned from their eyes and walked out of Tim’s office, my chin still raised as I stared directly ahead and made my way up to HR.

Not exactly the office to take kindly to intrusions, I did finally relax my posture into a more humble stance as I approached Alison Shaye.

She and I had been through quite a lot thanks to the hack on Colin and with one look at my face, she ushered me in and shut the door.

After two hours, thirteen phone calls, a visit from Miles and from three members of the board, CIStech officially ended its relationship with Ali Olayan.

I shook Alison’s hand, then made my way back to Tim’s office, the stragglers who hadn’t left at 5:00 taking a wide berth to avoid me as they finally cleared out for the evening.

“Ali will need replaced, effective Monday. I think it’s time to switch JaLeah from application security to network security so she can oversee the white hats.”

Tim’s eyes were unwilling to meet mine as I talked; he nodded and made a note, finally finding his voice as I reached the door to his office.

“I—I had no idea he was going to … that he would’ve reacted like—”

“You could’ve told me,” I said without turning around.

“Ali convinced me you’d only go over my head to make it all disappear. I … wanted to be fair. I thought I was doing the right thing.”

I raised my head and looked up at the ceiling, completely drained. I turned to face Tim, knowing my face reflected the defeat I felt.

“I’m not sure when I lost my reputation of being a person of integrity. Maybe it was when I started dating my employee. Maybe I never really had it to begin with because Dad’s face is hanging in the lobby. Whoever I thought I was, I’m clearly not. If my SM was unable or unwilling to come to me, I failed. It’s not your fault, Tim. It’s mine.”

I bit my lip as I stepped into the empty elevator, redirecting the pain in my heart so I wouldn’t start crying.

When I finally reached my desk, I picked up my phone and stared at it.

There was no point in calling Elliot because he wasn’t Elliot right now.

Darlene.

I was numb when I pushed her name, almost forgetting to raise the phone to my ear as I walked over to the window in my office, the sky slightly overcast as yet another late spring sky played the will I or won’t I rain game. It felt like an eternity had passed since I had met with Miles in his office and looked out of his near-top floor view and wondered what it would be like to leave this world, to leave Wall Street and to never look back.

“Helloooo?” Darlene’s voice trilled with its characteristic hint of annoyance at being disturbed even though she probably wasn’t doing much of anything.

“Hey, Dar. It’s Y/N.”

“Um, duh,” she said slowly, a slight trill of laughter accompanying her words.

I wanted to laugh with her at my own obviousness, but there was nothing left inside of me except the dead weight of dismay.

“Elliot got fired today.”

Silence—how much tense silence could a person endure in one day?

“You fired him?” Darlene finally said, her voice full of trepidation.

“I had nothing to do with it.”

“What the fuck?!”

“Elliot’s been … multitasking. His job performance over the last two months has tanked, and whatever he’s been doing for the last month hasn’t been what we’ve been paying him to do.”

I waited.  

“I’m sorry, Darlene. This was out of my hands.”

“You know what, fuck you,” she said, her tone shifting from concern for her brother to anger at me. “You pushed him because YOU wanted him to be normal. You wanted him to fit into your fucking high-class, black tie, ‘I’m having a social because I’m so rich and so fucking bored’ lifestyle. Elliot never wanted to be a part of that. You knew it and you pushed him into it.”

I listened as Darlene ranted. I owed her that. I owed Elliot that.

All of this was my fault.

“What? Nothing to say because you can’t talk your way through this one with your cool, calm, logic prevails because I’m rich and never have had to worry about any goddamn thing in my life bullshit?”

“I’m sorry. I know this is my fault, and I know I can never understand what the two of you have been through but I do love him,” I paused. “And you too, Darlene.”

“I need to talk to Elliot,” she mumbled as she hung up.  

I wiped at the tear that had escaped and was leaking down the side of my nose. I had too much to do to cry now, and I’d be damned if I was going to break down in my office.

Before gathering up my tote, I checked my email to make sure Ali was officially let go. I made a few notes for Monday as I continued to fight back tears, and when I clicked the lights off in my office, it felt like I had also turned off something within myself, something that was not going to be as easy as flicking a switch to turn back on.

I stopped at my apartment to change into sneakers, jeans, and an oversized sweater. Despite it being late May, the overcast weather made it chilly and I didn’t know how late I would be out. I threw my wallet, my keys, and my phone into my mini-backpack.

I checked my phone during the train ride and frowned as I saw a missed call from my dad. One thing that you could always count on in the cooperate world was that gossip traveled faster than the speed of light.

A part of me had filled with the ridiculous hope that Elliot would be at his place, waiting for me, but when I opened the door and stopped in the entry to listen for any sound to indicate he was there, I was struck by a resounding quiet … until I heard a series of quick sniffles.

I stepped far enough into Elliot’s to see Darlene sitting on the edge of his bed, rubbing at the traces of tears on her face.

“It’s not him,” she said, pressing the back of her hand to her mouth.

“I know. Where did he go?”

She looked up at me, her eyes wide and teary, her anxiety as palpable now as her brother’s rage was a few hours ago.

“I can’t do this anymore,” she said reaching for her backpack that had been flung beside the bed. She scrambled to her feet and started stuffing some of Elliot’s clothes into her bag along with a few things from his bookshelf, including a few old polaroids.

“Don’t give up on him,” I pleaded, repeating what she’d more than once asked of me.  

Darlene let out a frustrated growl as she flung off the papers, books, and CDs that had been sitting on the edge of Elliot’s bookshelf. They crashed to the ground and she brought her boot down on them in a stomp.

“I’m done, Y/N! I’m not his fucking keeper. I’m not going to sit here and watch him fuck his stupid life up again!”

The mess on Elliot’s floor crunched as she walked over to reach high up into his closet; she pulled down a worn game of Sorry! and wrenched off the lid, exposing a wad of cash. She took a little over half of it, then put the box back.

“I’m doing what he told me to do and getting the fuck out of his life.”

“You’re the one who told me it wasn’t him. You told me not to listen to him when he’s like this!”

“I was wrong.”

“Darlene,” I said, grabbing her upper arms and forcing her to stop moving. “I know what’s wrong with him. He has—"

“I know, Y/N! And I know something happened to him but I can’t help him because he won’t tell me what it was. I can’t fix it. YOU can’t fix it. No one can fucking fix it!”

Darlene brushed past me as my mouth fell open. I always suspected she knew more than she ever said out loud, but maybe that was what kept her sane. Elliot’s truth wasn’t something Darlene was ready to face.

“Where are you going?” I quietly asked.

“The fuck out of this city,” she murmured before turning around to look at me.

We were standing face to face, both of us with tracks of tears on our faces. I didn’t know what to say to her as she looked at me, so vulnerable and so young.

“I’m s-sorry,” I said, choking on the emotion of my apology.

“I didn’t mean what I said on the phone,” she answered, a fresh tear falling from the corner of her eye.  

“You’re pissed,” I shrugged. “And hurting.”

“You didn’t deserve—”

“It’s okay,” I said with a small smile. “You and I are good. We will always be good. Will you remember that for me? Please?”

Darlene took a deep breath and nodded, her lips quirking into an awkward smile. I moved forward and pulled her into a fierce hug.

“Take care of yourself,” I whispered into her hair as she clung to me.

She nodded again, pulling away and quickly moving to the door. She pulled it open and stepped into the hall, but before Darlene could close the door, I asked, “Is there anywhere he would go?”

“Coney Island,” she said after a long pause. “There … or that museum in Queens, the one with the layout of the city.”

“I remember. Thank you.”

Darlene bit the back half of her bottom lip, looking unnervingly like her brother as she nodded.

“I’ll see you. Soon,” I added with emphasis.

Her eyes flicked to my face as she shut the door, and I was left alone to just stare at the off-white of Elliot’s front door, unable to imagine the pain she carried from having to grow up much too fast.

With a shiver a turned away from the door as a flash of Elliot, looking just as vulnerable as Darlene, flitted through my mind. He had stood right there, and I had crossed the line when I kissed him, pulling him into my life, whether he was ready for it or not.

When I broke my gaze, I turned around to look at Elliot’s computer. I was struck with that same strong pull as I was on the night I had first met the angry version of Elliot. From my research, I knew a person’s psyche developed personalities that had specific jobs to do within their system. I knew who Elliot’s protector was—that was obvious. And now I knew that there was this other, this Elliot, but not Elliot. He was angry and hurting, curious and almost more alive at times than Elliot. He was so raw, almost like he was much newer to the world than his grizzled protector.

I was now certain it was him I had slept with a month ago. My mind was whirring with the idea of going to bed with one person and waking up with another, but again, I had to force myself to focus. None of these questions and feelings would matter if I never saw Elliot again, but maybe I could use my connection with his angry persona to get him back again.

I was struck with a sense of urgency, like the walls were closing in and I knew, knew I had to talk to him.

Instead of stepping back this time, I slid out of Elliot’s chair and sat down. When I turned on the monitor, Elliot was still logged in. I couldn’t believe my good luck, and as I got to work, I couldn’t help but wonder if maybe my Elliot wanted me to find him, to bring him back again.

It didn’t take long to triangulate his data transmissions to Coney Island, and again, it felt too easy.

I transferred the location to my phone and hurried to the subway.

I kept watching for Elliot’s location to change, but it really didn’t move for the 45 minutes it took the train to get out to the beach.

Daylight was fading fast and as I walked along the boardwalk, a few of the lamps flickered on. I wove my way through the light foot traffic and kept an eye out for Elliot’s dark hair and the light green dress shirt he had been wearing—

That I saw on his bedroom floor, next to the pile of stuff Darlene had stomped.

I finally spotted him sitting in the sand, the black of his hoodie a perfect contrast to the beige of the beach. His eyes were trained on the water as the wind ruffled his hair. His arms encircled his knees and he was twirling what looked like a small stick of driftwood between his fingers.  

“How did you find me?” he asked without turning to look at me.

I sat down, my body stiff and aching from an exhaustion I was sure to feel for days. I pulled my sweater tight around my body as I felt the cool air from the water drift up along the beach.

“I don’t know what to do this time,” I said, wondering which Elliot I was talking to. I didn’t feel a radiating anger or an icy coolness, but without looking into his eyes, I just wasn’t sure.

“Walk away.”

“I don’t want to walk away. We knew this would be hard—I knew this would be hard. The answer can’t be to just quit.”

“I’m tired, Y/N.”

I waited, watching his face and silently praying he’d turn to look at me so I’d know.

“I’m tired of fighting with …”

“Just say it,” I pressed softly. “Holding back at this point is almost laughable.”

“With him,” he finished, his eyes still staring forward.  

“He hates me,” I stated, thinking that whether it was his protector or the angry one, I couldn’t go wrong since they had both told me to fuck off and Elliot had let it happen. Maybe he really felt those things, too.

I leaned back and let my hands sink into the cool sand as I waited for him to answer.

“He doesn’t hate you. He’s scared of you.”

“Scared of me?”

“Of what you might force Elliot to remember.”

So this is still the angry one.

“You really do love him, don’t you?” he questioned, finally turning to look at me.

And as sure as the sun was about to set, I could tell that the person looking at me was not the Elliot I had fallen in love with. I looked into not-Elliot’s eyes for as long as he allowed. They were the same eyes from this afternoon that had told me to fuck off and the same eyes that had burned with longing that night in Elliot’s apartment.

“We’ve met—I mean, before you told me to fuck off today.”

His cheeks colored and he suddenly became very interested in the small piece of driftwood that was still twirling through his fingers.

“Are you serious right now? After the things we did, you’re going to play shy?”

He turned to me, a fraction of a smile on his lips.

“If it helps, I do like you. And I’m sorry for what I said today. I can’t … control myself very well.”

As I watched him twirl that piece of driftwood back and forth through the same fingers as my Elliot, the same fingers that had caressed my face, that had held my hand, that had reached for me in the dark, I felt like I aged a thousand years.

Those fingers now belonged to a stranger.  

When he spoke up, my eyes returned to his face.

“Mr. Robot would rather Elliot focus on Angela. He prefers her because she can’t love him like you do—he thinks she’s safe for him … for us.”

“Mr. Robot is the name of Elliot’s protector?”

“Yes, although he doesn’t like me,” not-Elliot said as he flashed me a crooked grin.

“Why?”

“He doesn’t trust me.”

“Will you tell me who you are?”

His face scrunched up as he thought, his mouth opening, then closing.

“I—I’m not sure. I’ve always just thought of myself as Elliot. Well, as a part of him. This control … it’s new for me.”

I wondered if people who were close to those with DID felt like talking to an alter was surreal. I knew, from the top of my head to the tip of my toes that this was not my Elliot, yet it was him—a part of him he needed.

“All of that uncertainty, the lost time, the conflict … that’s what Elliot has to carry within himself. Isn’t that worse than … what happened to him?”

“He forgets. Or …” Not-Elliot trailed off.

“Or?”

“I think of myself as Elliot, but I’m better than him at a lot of things. It’s always been my job to keep him occupied when Mr. Robot needs to take over, so I create places for him to go.”

“Occupied? So Elliot is … where is he now?”

“He’s in an emergency session with Dr. Horton.”  

“Oh,” I said in a low voice, my chest feeling tight. “All this time … he hasn’t really been going to therapy.”

“In a manner of speaking, he has been. Things have gotten better, haven’t they?”

Not-Elliot’s voice was like a buzz in my ear as my mind sped through the last month and a half.

“He must have hacked someone and gotten those anxiety meds.”

“I did that.”

“You hack, too?” I said, the buzzing in my ears subsiding as I clutched the sand painfully beneath my hands to remind myself that now wasn’t the time to get lost in my thoughts.

“I am the hacker,” Not-Elliot said with a perfect three-point grin, the very same one Elliot made.  

“Don’t do that—please don’t look like him,” I begged as tears formed in my eyes.

He looked away, a deep frown settling in the place of his smile.

“When is Elliot coming back?”

“He can’t come back while you’re here.”

“Why?”

“It confuses him. Creates more work for us.”

“I don’t fucking care!”  

Not-Elliot huffed, a quiet half-laugh that was nearly carried away by the breeze.

“Can you … communicate with him?”

“I don’t have as much control as Mr. Robot. My thoughts … can get mixed up with Elliot’s. That’s how he knew he got fired. Sometimes—”

“What?”

“Sometimes, it feels like I am more him than he is.”

“I know, without a doubt, you are not him. Elliot isn’t angry; he isn’t mean.”

He looked at me, his eyes filled with sadness.

“When can I see Elliot again?” I pressed.

“Do you really want to see him again? After everything he’s done?”

“I love him.”

Not-Elliot shook his head.

“You have to let him go. This isn’t over until Mr. Robot says it is.”

“What isn’t over? What does Mr. Robot want? What if I can help?”

Not-Elliot bit his lip, and he looked just like Elliot again, a conflict clearly going on beneath his exterior.

“You forget even more quickly than Elliot does—you are the bug in our system.”

My hands were shaking as I brought them together to brush off the sand. I stood up, feeling sick.

“Even you know enough about computers to know the steps for removing a bug.”

Enter safe mode to remove the bug, delete temporary files, reinstall damaged software or files, increase defense.

“If you’re Elliot’s safe mode, Mr. Robot is going to delete me.”

My legs felt like they were going to give away, and I knew I needed to leave before I lost my mind. Elliot was right here, right in front of me, and a piece of him was going to destroy the last year of his life—of my life.

I took a step back as Not-Elliot watched me. I turned away from him, but I was suddenly seized by a wild desperation.

I rushed back and dropped to my knees on the sand in front of him, almost throwing him off balance as he braced his feet and turned toward me.

Not-Elliot’s mouth was shaped in an oh of surprise as I leaned in to kiss him.

I clutched the front of his hoodie and I kissed him with all the love I felt for Elliot. I kissed him as the last bit of daylight faded to black, as the waves crashed on to the beach, and as the insistent spring wind swirled around us, grains of sand dancing against our exposed skin.  

“I—I’m—I’m not him,” he stammered as soon as he his opened eyes to look into mine.

“I know. But … why can’t I love you, too? Why can’t we work together to help Elliot?”

Not-Elliot and I looked at each other for a long, long time, the lamps on the boardwalk popping on to bathe us in a ghostly light.

“All I want is to be happy with Elliot. I’ve never been in love like this before—I don’t care how many parts of Elliot there are … I’ll love them all. Just please, please don’t let Mr. Robot get rid of all the happiness I know Elliot has felt this year.”

“I have to go,” he said, his head moving back and forth, his eyes large and confused. “Let him go, Y/N. Do us all a favor and just let him go.”

Not-Elliot pushed my hands off of him and walked away quickly, his lithe frame dipping into the small throng of people who were headed toward the arcades as the boardwalk lit up for the night.

He never looked back.

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[nutty1005]

Xiao Zhan: An Unyielding, Ambitious Gentleman

Original Article:https://www.weibo.com/ttarticle/p/show?id=2309404475603653886153#_0 Original Author: 雪色烟波里 

I have been reading Portrait Magazine for longer than I have known Xiao Zhan, so when I heard that he was going to be on the cover of Portrait Magazine, my initial reaction was as though the fourth wall had been broken. Portrait  Magazine had always been a magazine famous for reaching deeply into people’s lives, and Xiao Zhan, an actor who has just started his career, is he able to give a deep and exciting interview as required by Portrait Magazine? Very soon, I found out that my worry was needless, not only did he match the expectations, he exceeded it by giving a 7 hour long interview consisting of 20,000 over Chinese characters. As such, I decisively put down my order for Portrait Magazine, and entered the world of Xiao Zhan as an explorer. 

In psychology, there is this famous theory about halo effect, which basically means that a person’s special or outstanding characteristic may overpower and cover all of his other qualities and affect our understanding of that person.

In Xiao Zhan’s case, most of the first impressions of him are of him being a good looking new celebrity, and maybe like all other looks based celebrities – a crazed fanbase, average acting capabilities and perhaps even shortsighted in terms of his career. However, the Portrait Magazine interview shattered this narrow minded view, and brought forth the true Xiao Zhan.

He is not a natural born star, but just someone who works hard to pursue his dreams.

Xiao Zhan’s experiences are almost legendary. Portrait Magazine describes him aptly – he broke into the entertainment scene by chance, battling without armor, and this means that he is an anomaly. After being an every-man person for 20 odd years, working in an industry totally unrelated to the entertainment business, he participated in an idol search variety show by chance and debuted as part of an idol group. After 3 years, he burst into the acting scene with “The Untamed”, and since then, his burst in popularity meant that he attained what many others tried for years in the short span of a few months.

In the short span a few years, he was able to work with the photographer that he used to follow as a photography senior; he was able to perform on the same stage with the very same idol that he used to fanboy. Just a few years ago, he was being interviewed as a commoner with movie dreams, and now he had became the lead role in a movie. This is almost miraculous, and this is even more so when you realize that Xiao Zhan did not let all of that go to his head. Instead, he is taking things one step at a time – “This is just the beginning.” I started following him because I wanted to see how an every-man person like him would survive the entertainment business with just courage. 

Xiao Zhan can be considered as the icon of a commoner joining the entertainment business. With some understanding of him, you will realize that he is different from the carefully packaged idols and celebrities. He had a completely commoner education history, mature moral values and had been part of the working class. He went through the pains of society and therefore he does not put on airs, but instead, down-to-earth like every-man. In his words, he is simply “a common person, who happened to be working as a celebrity.” He calls himself “an entertainment business wage earner”, “Beijing drifter” and a “foreign staff”. Like many of us, he is a workaholic, he focuses on whether overtime is needed, and he still cannot afford an apartment in Beijing.

From the Portrait Magazine interview, you can see that he loves his career, finds joy in working hard in all he does, rejoices at the thought of knocking off and annoyance when his off-work time is being interrupted… to many, he might even feel like the “other self”, your alter-ego who is working hard in the entertainment business. 

As such, I felt that it was very apt for Portrait Magazine to choose Xiao Zhan for an interview. Beneath the glitz and glory of him pursuing his dreams, we can see ourselves in him. At this point, some may ask, I had already been through a commoner’s lifetime, why would I want to follow another commoner? This, we will have to see what stands him apart from the rest of us.

He is not a perfect idol, but just a proactive perfectionist. Xiao Zhan could be said to be someone who has no shortcomings, or in his fans’ words, good in all that he does.

From his appearance, he has good looks that appeals to the mainstream, great height, long legs and amazing amount of hair on his head. He does not dye his hair, have any piercings, wears minimal makeup. To me, this is where I started noticing him. It is ridiculous that some would consider that as being feminine (not that being feminine is a bad thing, but there is absolutely no correlation here at all), because his clean looks, attitude and temperament points to him being a gentleman.

For his capability as an artist, his singing and acting abilities are good. His representative work “The Untamed” had garnered 7 billion views on Tencent’s platform with positive reviews; his participation in the variety show “Our Song” broke 2.0 on the viewership charts, and received widespread audience recognition and support, as well as the positive acknowledgements from the participating mentor singers. Even his weakness, dancing, received more than a million views on Bilibili, a video streaming platform in China.

Besides all these, he knows how to draw, cook, use Photoshop, etc. He does not display these skills deliberately, but brought up offhandedly in various interviews and shows. He does not want to use these to setup a character or a label of himself – these are just parts of him that shows up occasionally. I used to wonder why he seems to be favored by the stars, but after reading the interview, you realize that there is no all-round talent, but just plain hard work in the background. 

Progressive improvements in his acting came from repeated practice of lines and every performance class he took. The perfect look under the camera lenses came from a strict discipline of diet and exercise plus professionalism. Singing and drawing was cultivated from his youthful passion. Diplomacy and tactfulness was learnt from his period of entrepreneurship. “For every single thing, if you want to do it, you do your best for it.” Xiao Zhan said, and also used his own actions to show that. No matter what he did – designer or artist, he did his best.

Many would think that this interview was a channel for him to bemoan about his miseries, but if you studied these 20,000 characters, you will realize that the interview simply laid down his steps and experiences. If you think that the interview showed that he is miserable, then he is, in fact, miserable. To me, the tale of Xiao Zhan is not a tale of misery, but a tale of a man who took the harder path, and an ambitious one at that. He went through the period of being a nameless extra in his acting career, but also attained the period of being a famous actor with countless awards under his sleeve. This is the result of him working hard not knowing the outcome, and this is something which is admirable – for not everyone has the determination to push on not knowing if there would be positive results for all of his efforts. He did, and therefore, he achieved these results.

“If you have the time to discuss, why not just do it?” Xiao Zhan offhandedly said this phrase, which made a deep impression on me. He had always been proactive, one who personifies “actions speak louder than words”.

While others were still mocking him for weak lines, he had already done his work to practice them. Waiting on the horizon were “The Oath of Love”, which would not be dubbed over; “The Most Beautiful Performance”, a series of short clips with acclaimed directors; “I Like You Liking Me”, a play to be performed on CCTV’s Spring Night. It might not be of the highest quality, but the improvement was evident in all of that.

While others were mocking him for needing the director to teach him step by step for his role in “Joy of Life”, he has already found teachers and attended countless performance classes. It is only through Portrait Magazine’s interview that we discovered that the director in “Joy of Life” is actually his teacher, but somehow, that particular behind-the-scenes video was twisted to become evidence of Xiao Zhan’s lack of acting skills. His improvements had always been constant, and so instead, I look forward to his new works coming this year. 

While others were mocking him for being nervous in his first fashion show, he had already looked into improving his overall aura, and in his subsequent red carpet events, he is already a star. 

While others were mocking him for not being generous in disaster efforts, or even spreading rumors of him faking donations, he never said a word to explain himself, but made arrangements behind the scenes to purchase critical medical supplies and equipment to be sent directly to the heavily affected city of Wuhan. It was only when the medical staff from the receiving hospitals posted pictures when these information were uncovered. There is no need to speak of the good deeds you do – this is Xiao Zhan, and a rarity in our impetuous society. 

He sincerely accepts all constructive criticisms and will improve upon it. There is no need to have a negative stance against idol/celebrities, his self motivation is as good as any other artist. 

He is not a packaged character, he has his own ideals and principles in his heart.

Like any popular artist, he has his fair share of anti-fans, and there is a group of “professional anti-fans” who are paid to spin rumors on him. With so many different stories about him, some would wonder who he really is. In many compositions by “fans leaving him”, the most frequent trait they brought up would be “hypocritical” and “fake”.

So what is Xiao Zhan really like?

Let’s take a look at how he does that. 

He wants to win, but not because the opponent lost.

He has a strong desire to win, but it always stems from fair competition. He is gentle and patient even to his opponents. While watching this video, I had lost my temper already, but he remained gentle and patient throughout. This is almost the classic example of restraint and courtesy. If you want to understand him further, continue with this series, and you will realize that he is as real as you and I.

Being uncouth and impolite does not represent realism. To someone who had been through the ups and downs of society, and has strict moral values, being polite and diplomatic is also real. A teenager may find having a temper with words to match it being realistic, but after meeting various people, becoming part of society, being polite and diplomatic is a reflection of the education and culture you have received. Being real simply means that you face the world with everything of you, and being truthful, doing no wrong is also being real. There is no right or wrong, the real you is as fluid as your experiences build up. The 16 year old you is not the same as the 26 year old you, but it is still you nonetheless, and the difference is made up by your growth. Our real self should be one who is able to face his/her past and present logically, be always forward looking, and be always improving.

In Xiao Zhan’s words to his 18 year old self, “You can have the frivolity, disdain, arrogance and wildness befitting of your age, but you must always remain respectful of everyone around you, and stay in awe of those around you in your heart at all times.”

You can see a man’s character from the details of the things he does. These details I would not have taken much of a notice, but I should start learning these good habits as well.

When you want to understand a person thoroughly, it is best that you do know it not from what others tell you, but from what his action does. From his works, his shows, his interviews, his words, you will find that you can understand him better with your own eyes.

For more information:

Variety Shows

Dramas

Interviews

Our Song《我们的歌》

Eternal Classics《经典咏流传》

Who’s the Murderer《明星大侦探》

The Untamed《陈情令》

The Oath of Love《余生请多指教》

Douluo Continent《斗罗大陆》

Portrait Magazine《人物》

人民网采访

《文化十分》

His working capabilities has brought him fans from all corners, but also anti-fans from all over. For a short period in my time with Xiao Zhan as a fan, I momentarily gave up on him because there were just too many anti-fans. However, in this 6 months, he has shown to me the kind of person he is – never speaking of his miseries, fighting his way through on his own, always showing a happy face to those around him. He takes care of everyone around him, from his staff to his colleagues, always emphasized on the importance of education to his team mates, and everyone who has worked with him, from his seniors to his staff, have nothing but praise for him. Being an independent person myself, I choose to believe what I see. He is the first celebrity that I took time to write an article on, and would probably be the last as well. I believe, and I hope you to will, that he is that unique person with a universe in his heart.

Easter Egg – Quotable Quotes from Xiao Zhan

Regardless of how life is bringing down the roof on you, there is always a sky of hope beyond.

Idol and fans are actually symbiotic, we support each other and move forward together. When we live our respective lives well, and continue to become better selves. Hence I would say that my fans, I feel that you must first live your lives well, so that you have spare time to like and follow the idol you like.

I don’t think I’m a perfect person, and I don’t want to be a perfect doll.

There is no technique, throw away the vanity, the most precious component would be sincerity, let us use our passion to do well.

I feel that the ideal status is not changed by regrets. What is most important about life is making sure we live in the present and live well, and not regret the past. Present and future is the most important.

Maintain passion, persist, maybe the path forward is not bright and straight, but there will be countless possibilities. Passion can withstand the test of time, protecting each other is not something that is just said.