#and what was also discussed was the possibility that i myself could possibly qualify to be a habitat homeowner so im like.....

[a-lil-strawberry]

One outcome I didn't expect from an outing with coworkers at a bar after a long week was an extreme state of existential dread, but here I am

[hadesoftheladies]

Victim Blaming

Hoping I can keep this brief, but I have a habit of being thorough to a fault, lmao. Anyway, yesterday I had an unpleasant conversation with a radblr user who's online presence I have largely enjoyed at least, up until this point. She was frustrated with one of my posts, one where i joked about certain experiences i had with choice feminists.

She is referencing this post of mine in particular as an example of my victim blaming: (15) nearly all women who date men do so as a form of ritualized masochism: the lifeblood of female gendered socialization – @hadesoftheladies on Tumblr

I was, of course, upset at this, but I got curious as to whether or not the words I used in this post could qualify as victim blaming. I had this disquiet in me, which I usually have when a concept in my head is ambiguous and I'm struggling to define it. I want to draw a line somewhere because clarity is my one true love. So I did a little research on the general term.

First off, victim blaming is a term used in sexual assault/violence cases. That subject is the soil from which this notion of victim blaming grew into what we know it as today. FUNDAMENTALLY, victim blaming is when a victim of sexual violence is held responsible (either partially or entirely) for what happened to them. (Please keep that in mind.)

According to this article, victim blaming stems from several places:

-a desire to distance oneself from the possibility of being victimized

-a lack of empathy

-fundamental attribution error (FOA) which is the refusal to analyze external factors in favour of putting all the responsibility of the abuse on the victim

Also important to note, is that the end result of victim blaming usually results in the victim feeling ashamed or guilty for what happened to them.

Moving on, in the post this user provided as an example of me victim blaming, there's a note somewhere down there where another user called "eldopism" mentions a Lundy Bancroft quote about how victims need far more support than judgement, and how I shouldn't be making myself out to be a victim for something a man did to someone else.

maslows-pyramid-scheme also informed me that there were certain radblr users that had discussed this trend of me victim blaming straight women, so I think this serious accusation warrants a very fair and thorough response and I will use the above information on victim blaming to criticize this specific post i made about women who date men.

#1. Have I Blamed Straight Women for The Evil Men Have Done To Them?

In the above excerpt, I am drawing up a profile of a woman who is informed and not currently in a domestic hostage situation. The examples I provide are all of women I know who are unmarried and dating. One example I use is of a woman who was almost raped.

I talk about these women as active agents or "adults." They are capable of making decisions, perceiving threats, and are aware of the situations they've been in. I explicitly state that I feel anger at them, which DOES NOT MEAN I am ONLY angry at them. It is only that this anger at them is the focus of the post.

Now at a glance, anyone would say, "Yeah, this is victim blaming. You are clearly angry at a woman for almost getting raped." And I think in this case, I am partly to blame for not providing more context to that specific story.

At the point of writing this very emotional rant, the woman who was almost raped had gone BACK to flirt and talk with the very same man. When she told me what had happened, I was angry at him and horrified, but when I heard she'd gone back, that was when my anger extended to her. Both before and after the encounter, I and other mutual women in this circle, had discouraged her from fraternizing with him. This man was not attractive, neither did we find him particularly charming. They were not long-term friends and did not have any prior connections. He was a stranger that had no stake in her life. She had told us that leading up to that moment, she had not communicated what she'd wanted. Honestly, even now, I'm not too sure what was going through her head during all this and the sequence of events aren't adding up in my mind.

What I DO know is that he attempted to penetrate her without her consent and she froze as a fear response. Knowing that she found this potentially traumatizing, I wondered why on earth she went back to flirt with him days later and then continuously went on to put herself in escalating vulnerable positions with other strangers.

So, victim blaming is when I would blame this woman for being nearly raped, but that's not what I'm doing. I'm angry at this woman for disregarding this traumatizing experience. Consistently, even in the other stories, my anger is about women's decisions to re-expose themselves to predators POST victimization. Not about the victimization itself. I am not asking "what did you do to provoke him" but "why are you doing this again after what he did?"

I hope you can see the difference in both questions.

#2. Why Does She Do That?

The central theme of this post is the latter question: why the fuck are you going back? And please note, these are explicitly NOT domestic violence cases. These aren't women who live with these men or who's economic livelihoods depend on these men. These are important distinctions.

Of course, being well acquainted with theory, I know that none of our decisions are made in a vacuum. In many of my posts and also in this particular post, I acknowledge these external factors, which is why I called this cycle of "ritualized masochism" part of gendered socialization. I am explicitly acknowledging that this is a systemic issue that affects an individual's psychology, hence, interpersonal relationships. Literally in the first sentence. So I have not committed an FOA.

In this post, I also highlight the difference between me and women who make this issue out to be solely a matter of the moral failing or lack of resilience from these kinds of women. An inevitability that is better to just wash one's hands of. I DO NOT think flippantly abandoning these women to their self-destructive behaviour or acting smug about it is the right response.

#3. People That Love People Will Grieve

This post is PRIMARILY an expression of personal grief. When our loved ones are suffering or are hurt or are lost, we will, of course, feel personally affected. It is HEALTHY and IMPERATIVE that people who are supporting women or anyone, really, through difficult times or chaotic phases feel their feelings and air out their frustrations. Care-taking on any scale can and will get tiring because we are FINITE. We do not have unlimited energy to offer eternal support. That's the reality.

This anger and pain we feel is not coming from a lack of empathy but from the overwhelming presence of it. I feel for you so strongly, that every time you hurt yourself, I also feel it. When he hurts you, I am angry because I feel that hurt. When you hurt yourself, I fam angry because I feel that hurt. Because there is a part of me that is suffering as well, I get angry at the cause of that pain.

Apathy could never.

I wanted to provide an outlet to myself and other women who felt like me who had or were going through this grieving process and had frustrations as a result of having empathy while partaking in a seemingly never-ending cycle of torment.

#4. The Rescuer Isn't Coming

Which brings me to this next point.

Now I've made several responses in this thread already, but I really wanted to highlight that maslow's original criticism is that I was conflating an innate desire for a romantic relationship with men with femininity, and I was calling both ritualized masochism (which they are).

But this response really cements the absurdity of this situation for me; that is, the absurdity of choice feminism.

What really gets me about this particular response is how perfectly it poses the very same question that the post she cited says is impossible to answer: what can I do to make her life safer?

The post she cited is one that is lamenting the utter helplessness of being this support that never really improves anything because, at the end of the day, grown women will do whatever the fuck they want.

How can I make her safer when she rejects safety? How can the onus possibly be on me when I have zero power in this situation? I cannot criticize her decisions, I cannot herd all the men and shoot them into Jupiter, I can't stop her from going to club and picking these men up, I can't force her to date or believe me when I tell her that such a man is not good.

So what the fuck else is there to do but warn her? And knowing that my warnings are clearly falling on deaf ears, what the fuck else is there to do but watch or leave?

Do you not see the double bind. I am "protecting her" the only way I can: advising her to stay away.

Ultimately, it seems, maslow is upset that my solution to this whole problem is to tell straight women to forego this pursuit of a loving relationship with a man. She sees it as fundamentally self-centered, divorced from the interests and complexities of heterosexual dating and the rich inner lives of straight women.

As far as I'm concerned, there is no alternative. Radfems, of all people, know there is not. We know men do not rape because they lack education in consent. We know they rape because they want to. We know men do not abuse women because of any romanticized narrative of a tortured, guilty soul, but because it makes them feel good about themselves. Because they want to. We know men re-enforce patriarchy and misogyny, not because they "don't know" women are people but because it benefits them in some way. So WE KNOW that on a micro and macro scale, there is little we can do to appeal to men's humanity (or whatever's left rotting in its place).

So if men won't suddenly transform their hearts and rescue women, and if feminists and separatists can't get rid of men or force women to do anything, then who is left to protect these vulnerable women?

No one but their fucking selves. That's the truth. That's the point. Women are not to blame for what men do to us, but it is our responsibility to look out for ourselves because NO ONE ELSE WILL DO IT. No man is going to rescue us and no woman is going to resist the effects of socialization for us. Resistance and rebellion have to start from within and all I can do is inspire it however I can and seek freedom for myself.

The vision of separatism in feminism is one of women empowered to protect themselves, an acknowledgement of the fact that women only gain rights when we demand them ourselves. No man is going to change because we ask him to. At least, if he did, he'd be the rare exception. Which, you know, good for him. I can't be angry at a man for being genuinely good. It's always a win.

But separatism is a political strategy. "Let women try find a good man" is not. If most men are predatory toward women, then saying "find a good man among them" is shit advice. If it were a strategy, it would be a really shitty one because it CANNOT SCALE. Your political strategy should prioritize the majority of women who WILL NOT be able to find a good man that doesn't take advantage of them, otherwise, it's just elitism. Your personal hope in finding a good man is not a viable political/feminist strategy.

And if it isn't, then why are you demanding feminists take it as such?

#5. Love, Like Beauty, Is Pain

The comparison of femininity and dating men as ritualistic masochism was coming from the culture of women that romanticizes pain in love and beauty, insisting that these things are innate and inescapable, making them out to be virtues. It is glorified masochism and romanticized self-harm. The way we hurt our feet with heels, seek increasingly extreme ways to "correct" our natural physical characteristics and the way we put up with men. "Putting up with men" has been something we've been groomed to do by both our mothers, peers and men at nearly every stage.

This has become so familiar to us, that breaking free from this cycle is scarier than the anticipation of pain. This is also frequently a pointed source of my frustration in this post and other posts similar to it. This is why both femininity and sexual relationships with men are part of the same question and demand proper attention.

I am far from the first feminist to point this out, so I don't know why I'm being made out to be some sort of abuse-enabler for pointing basic feminist analysis like this out. It is this grooming that enables abuse, not advocating against it.

#6. Summary

-I committed no FOA.

-I have contextualized the suffering of these women and analyzed external factors.

-I have empathized explicitly with their pain.

Conclusion: I did not victim blame anyone and anti-separatist users continue to decontextualize my quotes in several other areas where context has not been adequately provided (and which I take responsibility for). I have not called women who date or marry men anti-feminist, but I have called that decision anti-feminist/non-radical. You can be a feminist and have non-feminist interests or pursuits. That doesn't mean you're entitled to validation from feminists because we are women. Feminism is a political party, not women's club. And choice feminists keep insisting it’s the latter.

Furthermore, I don't mind people questioning my integrity, but I do sincerely ask that they bring receipts. :)

[studywgabi]

Anyone Else?

I am 18 years old and I just found out I am intersex.

I started puberty at an earlier age than average. I had severe acne, oily skin, and hirsutism in second grade. I remember my dad telling me to wash my face because I was getting "a type of pimple called a blackhead" (he had to explain to me what it was, I had never heard of them) when he dropped me off at before-school daycare at 7 years old. When I told my mom I had hair under my arms that same year, she flat-out refused to believe me. She simply said I did not, that it was impossible.

I started shaving my legs in third grade, after begging my parents to let me for a year. My mom said I should only have to shave every other day, and again denied the truth when I told her that wasn't enough. Once I started shaving my legs, I noticed the hair everywhere else: my back, my chest, my face, all over.

I googled my symptoms over and over, scouring the internet for a documented experience of any other woman who was like me. I questioned my gender identity over the years. I had wondered if it was possible for me to be intersex, but I had a very limited view of what that could mean, and I assumed if I was, it would be very physically, externally, obvious. At that time, I didn't think it was possible for my doctors, my parents, and everyone else in my life to miss something so important.

For about a year, I identified as non-binary and used they/them pronouns. I think that part of this came from a place of being young and exploring my identity, but it also came from deep insecurity. I didn't feel like being a girl was an option for me because of the way I looked, so I thought it would ease my pain to pretend I wasn't a girl. I want to make it abundantly clear that I am in no way saying questioning one's gender identity is only about being insecure. That was my personal experience, and I am in the minority. I am the exception to the vast majority of experiences.

I bought plain, solid-color, clothes 3 sizes too big and wore pants and long sleeves all summer to swallow me up. I always wore my hair down and I always had bangs to cover as much of my face as possible. I wanted to make it impossible to see my face at all, and, between bangs, glasses, makeup, and a mask, I was fairly close.

By the time I was 12, I had developed a four-hour daily routine for removing all my hair. After a year of seeing my therapist, I finally broke down and told her about my hirsutism via pen and paper and through tears. I was so, so ashamed that I couldn't even say the word "hair" out loud. She immediately told me I might have PCOS, something I had never heard of, and it turns out she was right.

It was only recently, six years after my PCOS diagnosis, that I found out there was any discussion at all about PCOS being considered an intersex condition. I am ashamed to say my first reaction was one of more fear and insecurity. I have been chasing womanhood all my life, and this felt like yet another barrier to it. Even if I didn't identify as intersex after reading about this, it's taught me I have quite a bit of unlearning to work on.

I am in no way qualified to declare PCOS to be an intersex condition, and I am not telling other people with PCOS that they have to be intersex, but I now identify as intersex. I love that PCOS awareness is a trending hastag on tiktok, but there is still so much more research that needs to be done, especially into this particular area. I read peer-reviewed journals from scientists and blog posts about individuals' real experiences and I found a term that feels like home for me, that fell in line with the way I had always felt about myself. I will still use she/her pronouns, because they also feel right for me.

When I experience things like this, I don't know what else to do but write about them. I hope we learn more about this, and I hope I can talk to someone who has also had this experience. Thank you.

[nikeiyomiurioverthinker]

Nikei Yomiuri has BPD: the masterpost

So I've been formally requested to make a post on why I believe Nikei has BPD- so strap in, folks, this is gonna be a long one.

I want to preface this with, I am in no way a mental health expert, I am in no way qualified to actually diagnose anyone with anything, but I am a weirdo who likes to read the DSM-5 for kicks who also happens to think about Nikei Yomiuri a lot. Everything I say needs to be taken with a grain of salt, yadda yadda yadda, you know how that all goes.

TW for discussions of sui, CSA and SH. I am not planning to discuss any of these topics in depth (except for the first one, due to just. Nikei being Nikei), but if the topics distress you in any way, I would advise simply not reading this. Look after yourself.

So, firstly, I would like to discuss how BPD develops. Though there are many possible causes, such as genetics, affecting the on-set of BPD symptoms, one of the most common causes is childhood abuse, especially CSA. We currently do not yet know Nikei's backstory and how he was 'saved' by Utsuro, but it is commonly believed that it had to do with CSA. It both explains some of his behaviors- the weird hypersexual tendencies and his extremely negative reaction to being touched by Mikado from behind, for example- and 'fits', so to speak, Void's tendency in everyone there suffering some sort of child abuse. This is mostly to explain how Nikei fits the common parameters of someone in whom BPD could develop.

Now, as for the diagnostic criteria: the DSM-5 dictates there are 9 major symptoms of BPD, and in order to qualify, the patient needs to fulfill at least 5.

Before I go over which of the symptoms he fulfills, I want to start with stating that Nikei is a particularly hard character to get a read on, mostly due to him faking his personality for the greatest majority of the game, and though I do not believe everything about him that we see is 100% fake at all times, it would be presumptuous of me to discern what I personally believe to be real or not. Therefore, I will keep myself limited to:

His actions throughout the game (plus the ones he made from behind the scenes and also what he did before the actual happenings of the game)

Nikei's bouts of anger (which he is shown to be physically unable to control)

Chapter 6's Void Theatre (since Linuj has stated that Nikei was being truthful in it and was thus is 'real self')

Talking about his anger… symptom number 1, "Inappropriate, intense anger that can be difficult to control" and symptom number 2, "Rapidly shifting intense emotional dysregulation". I don't think I need to go too in-depth when talking about how he fits these symptoms. If you have played the game, you know Nikei is shown to turn easily aggressive in ways he seems unable to control. I think the scene that highlights that the most is the one in chapter 4 while everyone is in Nikei's room- right after Mikado leaves. Nikei is unable to calm himself down, and has to cut short the meeting due to his inability to regulate his emotions properly. Honestly, Nikei in the fourth trial could also be used as an example for this.

Symptom number 3, "Frantic efforts to avoid real or imagined abandonment". The man's gut reaction to Emma, Hajime and Iroha 'leaving' him was to come up with a plan to fuck over the man who took them away from him. It's actually a little hard to express myself in-depth on these first points, because I feel as though it would just be me repeating the game's plot points or just. Describing his character, rather than adding anything new to the discussion… of course, it's also pretty obvious that Nikei has extremely unstable relationships (again, Void), so he fits the fourth symptom as well, "Unstable and chaotic interpersonal relationships, often characterized by alternating between extremes of idealization and devaluation, also known as "splitting" ". He doesn't necessarily 'split' on anyone in game, unless you count the fact that he can go from developing a crush on Sora to hating her guts in chapter 4, though in that case, his sudden hatred is more than understandable, considering the context- but I have to stress, it is almost impossible for us to know how Nikei feels about people in general, since most of his relationships are technically developed off-camera. As I am talking about Nikei's relationships, I feel like it would be a disservice to this 'theory' to not bring up this specific answer to a question that Linuj himself gave:

Nikei is not healthy with his interpersonal relationships. While this comment is strictly about romantic relationships, it is not a stretch to say that he gets obsessive about others in general- ergo, his relationships are unstable by definition.

Our fifth symptom is "Markedly disturbed sense of identity and distorted self-image"- one of his most obvious characteristics as a person is his inferiority complex, which feeds into his desire for power. To this, we can also add his struggle with his own self-worth. We don't know why exactly Nikei idolizes his hand as of yet, but it doesn't take an expert to realize that no matter the reason, his obsession with it doesn't exactly give us the impression his self-image is in any way stable.

Theoretically, I could stop here, since to be diagnosed you only need to fulfill 5 symptoms, but I am an overachiever to a fault so I'm gonna go on.

Symptom number 6, "Impulsive or reckless behaviors (e.g., uncontrollable spending, unsafe sex, substance use disorders, reckless driving, binge eating)". Now this might be weird to some of you, since Nikei doesn't really show any of these behaviors in game (again, not counting personal headcanons for this, so even if I do believe Nikei is definitely a reckless driver, I can't exactly say that counts since it is 100% based on vibes) but these are all just examples of reckless behaviors- Nikei has just significantly more personalized ones. Like, say, participating in a killing game of his own free will, or using an actual stun gun on himself rather than just pretending to be unconscious, or randomly changing key details of the plan he made supposedly months prior on the fly (ie adding Teruya to the mix when his spot was originally supposed to be taken by Syobai). Assuming Nikei has BPD actually makes chapter 4 make more sense.

"Recurrent suicidal ideation or self harm"- this is the last symptom I am going to talk about, and the primary reason for the TW at the start. This is probably gonna be somewhat headcanon-y, and if anyone wants to disregard that as such I cannot exactly fault them for it, but hear me out: Nikei's plan counts as a suicide plan. Nikei is not an idiot- he would have known that, no matter how it ended up going, if he failed or not, Nikei was gonna die either way- if his plan worked and Yuki was executed, Mikado would have retaliated and killed him in revenge; if his plan worked and Yuki got away with it, he would have died in the mass execution; and if, how it happened in canon, he failed he would have been killed, too (Mikado may have said that he would have forgiven Nikei if he returned back to Void, but let's be real here- that was a bold faced lie. He was just gloating). This plan would have ended up with him dead no matter what, and he was okay with it- which I don't need to tell you, is not exactly something someone who has never considered suicide before would do.

(Also random thought that I probably wouldn't be able to fit in another post- Nikei's execution itself is fairly odd, in the sense that he was ultimately the one who killed himself. He was the one that ran up the stairs, he was the one that jumped off the building, he was the one that failed to catch the ladder- hell, jumping off a building is a pretty common suicide method. His death is unique in the sense that he brought it all to himself- he was the only executee that wasn't tied down in any way, all his actions were truly his choice. He didn't need to run away from the Monocrows, but he did. He didn't need to go up the stairs instead of down, but he did. He didn't need to jump, but he did.)

The last two symptoms are:

Chronic feelings of emptiness

Transient, stress-related paranoid or severe dissociative symptoms

Which I don't think I can apply to Nikei in good conscience, since it's pretty hard to discern how that man is feeling at all times (other than, well, when he is raging). That would wound up being wayyy too headcanon-y for even me to excuse. Like, do I believe he is depressed? Absolutely. Do I believe he has PTSD? Certainly, but I can't point to any exact action he takes in game and point to it to say that he is 100% depressed. It's mostly just vibes. And again, I don't really need to? I have already given ample evidence as to why I believe Nikei has BPD, even without these last two symptoms.

(I mean, I COULD prove that Nikei has PTSD- if we consider his more than likely sexual trauma and his reaction to him being grabbed by Mikado specifically, someone who he considers to be a threat- that certainly feels like PTSD to me. Even without that, I genuinely doubt anyone that lived through the Tragedy DOESN'T have PTSD. Anyway I am losing track of the post here-)

I don't exactly know how to end this, but yeah! That's about it. Nikei has BPD, thanks for coming to my TedTalk.

[five-pillows]

I have a question for autistics that know more about meltdowns than I do

I’ve had a couple episodes (I refer to them as episodes for lack of a better term) although they weren’t particularly loud, and I didn’t make many involuntary movements. I had always thought they were panic attacks because I had the staple shallow breathing, shakiness, and pit in my stomach, but now I’m not quite sure. Every time this happened I was in a social situation and felt extremely uncomfortable but was able to mask how I was feeling with a lot of difficulty. I stumbled over my speech and buffered quite a lot but anyone looking at me would likely just think I was nervous. I also felt stronger urges to stim but refrained from big movements.

Since every instance was in a public setting where I was responsible for something I was required to contain myself to some extent for the sake of my dignity if nothing else. Not saying that meltdowns aren’t justified or give autistics a bad reputation, I just hadn’t done nearly as much research or made accommodations for myself at those times so I felt as if I could be less Big Emotion if I just let myself feel so terrible and use exposure as a tool rather than escape the situation

I’m just curious whether this would qualify as some sort of meltdown, even if it’s far less severe than what I’ve heard them described as.

Most meltdown symptoms I see discussed are yelling, crying, hitting, stimming, and running away, and the symptoms are always described as involuntary but I can’t find anything about how it feels in the body, or if less severe meltdowns are possible

Sorry if this is a stupid theory I just don’t want to assume it’s panic attacks since exposure hasn’t helped at all

[eiran-eye]

I swear, I don't know why but I honestly believe that the majority of interpretations to Ivan are somewhat inaccurate. I am not a qualified judge I can say for sure, but something about all of it can be inaccurate. I had a fair share of theories myself, but those are all but possibilities. The inference of personality and way of thinking though is somewhat debatable. Ivan truly is a mystery character even if he is a fan favorite. One could say it's all because of the lack of actual humanity he's been exposed to (haha does that make sense?) . He's always been the Alien's pet and is always the blank canvas every one of them strives to have. It could also be one of the reasons he likes Till. Because he represents the rebellious nature of humans. Ivan himself also has problems understanding human emotions, so that could be one of the reasons he acts so mysterious (Though we are not sure of the whole detail of the hard to understand emotions itself) . Nonetheless, I think all interpretations of his behavior are worth discussing, I love debates of the matter too; not only are we taking into account what's not possible, we're also figuring out the mash of the most likely.

[space-mermaid-writing]

The witchling and the god [Loki x Witch!Reader] Chapter 6

Summary: The Avengers were looking for someone to help Loki fit in with the team. To become socially acceptable, so to speak. He had been given the choice of sitting in a cell in Asgard or serving some sort of community service probation on Midgard. The Avengers and Shield both felt that as long as Loki was on Earth, he should be under supervision. This is now your job. Why? Because you’re a witch. You’re not sure why this qualifies you, but here you are, giving it a shot. What could possibly go wrong?

Tags: Witch!Reader, Magic, Witches, slow burn, everybody lives in the tower, character development, Loki‘s redemption, Stephen Strange is a friend, Loki and Stephen are frenemies, Tony Stark is a good bro, kids love Loki, Tony has stupid nicknames for everybody, eventual smut

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Read it on AO3 | Previous | Next

Chapter's Note: I know that 'Make a wish' and 'Meet your hero' are two different things but for the sake of this story I do not care. You know what is meant. More kids loving Loki in this chapter. Beta by @zaria-04 <3

Chapter 6: Make a wish

The next few days pass by quite uneventfully. However, there is one thing you can't get out of your head and that is how easily Loki dealt with the child. And after some thinking, you have an idea.

"Do you know what the 'Make a wish foundation' is?" you ask the God of Mischief one morning.

"I do not. But from the name, I would guess that this foundation makes wishes come true."

"Exactly. It's for kids with serious illnesses. One part of it is where kids who have to stay in hospitals permanently or long-term can meet their idols. Right now, Spider-Man is very popular, but there are also meet and greets with singers or famous artists," you explain, showing him some videos and pictures of these meetings on a tablet. "Sometimes just a double or an actor who looks like the idol comes in."

"And you want me to do something like that?" Loki laughs, but not amused. "That's something for your so-called heroes. Why would anyone want to meet me, the evil one?"

Some day you should talk to him about how he sees himself. "You wouldn't go there as a villain, but as a Norse god," you explain. "A lot of kids are interested in mythology. Especially when they're sick and are looking for comfort or answers. I went through a Roman phase myself when I was young, and I just devoured all the myths and stories."

"Pah, Jupiter is no match for us," Loki retorts dismissively, but seems to be thinking about your words, because he tilts his head and stares at a vague point. He usually does this when he is lost in thought. You give him all the time he needs.

"I'd better not ask. I don't know if I could handle knowing that more gods are real. I'd have to ask you about Jesus." You speak more to yourself than to him, but of course Loki opens his mouth, which is why you quickly add: "Please, don't answer that."

Amused, he closes his mouth again.

"You don't have to decide right now, okay? Just think about it for a little bit. I wouldn't suggest it if I didn't think it was a good idea," you say, "It's about the kids. So it will be absolutely necessary that there are no incidents. There will be some rules put in place. But it would be a good opportunity to build your reputation. And I imagine you might even have fun doing it."

"I hardly think so," the Asgardian retorts.

"Why not? A room full of little Loki fans adoring you should just be to your liking."

Your words make him think. "When you put it that way, it actually sounds tempting. Fine, I‘ll do it."

That's how quickly it's decided.

You'd discussed the idea with Tony beforehand, of course. Surprisingly, he had no objections, and now that Loki has agreed, you can get down to the actual preparations and planning.

~~

It takes a little while until everything is organized. With the help of Doctor Stephen Strange you found a children's hospital with integrated hospice, which is outside of New York and perfectly suited for your project. You got on the phone with the staff and after a few calls you were able to set a date. They already had experience there with this type of meet and greet, although there had probably never been a god among the idols.

You did not reveal that he is a literal god. It's about the kids and you don't want to stir up suspicion in advance.

A driver takes Loki and you there, along with two agents in civilian clothes. That's standard procedure and SHIELD insists on it. The two would keep a low profile, but could step in if it became necessary. Even if it was just to keep out unwanted onlookers.

To quote the team leader, "You'd be surprised by some of the strange incidents we've had."

In the car, you give Loki a final briefing.

"It's important that you stay calm, no matter what," you remind him. "And no magic!"

"No magic that anyone notices as such," he corrects you.

"No magic that anyone notices as such," you repeat, adding, "And no chaos. I know chaos is a part of you, but in this case, please keep it to a manageable minimum."

"Yes, ma’am." Loki salutes mockingly. "No chaos, no deaths, I won't even set a single fire."

You're glad he takes it with humor and isn't offended. The truth is, you're probably more nervous than he is. This is a big deal. Not a simple lunch where the two of you are more or less alone. He's about to stand in front of kids and interact with them. Kids are unpredictable, but you trust your instincts. You wouldn't do this if you had a bad feeling about it.

"I'm sorry, I know you'll do a good job," you smile apologetically. "I trust you."

Loki's expression changes as he looks at you and nods. You get the feeling he's never looked so sincere before.

How long has he been waiting for someone to say those words to him? And mean them. Such simple words, but with a big impact.

Your attention is drawn from each other as the car stops.

You enter the hospital as a group and at the reception desk you meet the administrator and the head nurse, with whom you had spoken on the phone. A few minutes of shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries follow. Loki takes the lead on this and you let him.

He has dressed up especially for the occasion. He wears fine, Asgardian clothes, ornately decorated and an aura of royalty surrounds him. It is hard not to be captivated by him and your eyes keep wandering to him.

The head nurse - she has introduced herself as Nurse Chapel and belongs to the kind of person who is cordial but does not tolerate nonsense. You take an instant liking in her - leads you to the second floor.

"The kids are all between eight and eleven years old," she tells you along the way. "Their conditions go from cancer to genetic defects. But it has been a good day so far."

Loki doesn't know these disease names, but you explained to him ahead of time why the kids need to be here in the hospital.

"How fragile are they?" he wants to know.

"Probably less than you think. Go ahead and make them laugh from the heart. It's good for them." Chapel stops in front of a door. "Ready?" she asks Loki.

He looks briefly at you, then nods. "Yes."

The head nurse walks in first and announces Loki, who follows her promptly. You fall back a few steps and enter the room unobtrusively. The two undercover agents remain in the hallway.

The room is comfortably furnished, almost like a living room of sorts, with several seating options. Eight children sit in a semicircle in the middle and you spot two more nurses with them. The children all look far too pale and thin for their age. Most are wearing scarves tied around their heads instead of hair and one boy is pushing an IV around. But their faces are all beaming as their attention is on Loki. He has joined them in the circle and is about to answer their questions, which they immediately throw at him.

"Why isn't your hair red?" asks the boy with the IV. His voice croaks a little. "I thought Loki was a ginger."

"I'm over a thousand years old. It’s boring to always have the same color of hair." Loki puts the flat of his hand on his hairline in his forehead so that it covers it, then slides his hand up a bit. The hair underneath suddenly appears orange-red. "See. It's easy." When he moves his hand back, the area is black again.

So much for no magic.

The kids make a general "Ooooooh!" sound.

"Can you make my hair longer?" a girl asks who has no scarf but just a short, light fluff on her head.

"Your hair is wonderful, little lady. I've rarely seen such a beautiful shaped head."

The girl giggles, but before she can object further, another child interjects with another question. "Is it true that you gave birth to a horse?"

Loki raises his index finger. "Ah, that's often said, but actually the story goes quite differently. Would you like me to tell you?"

"Yeees!"

"So listen well, little ones. This is the story of an adventure! Long ago, a wall was built around Asgard for protection. But the master builder, a Hrimthurse, deceived Odin and shortly before the completion of the wall he demanded the goddess Freya as his wife, as well as the moon and the sun. This was an outrage beyond comparison. My brother Thor and I hatched a plan to prevent this.

One night I kidnapped the Hrimthurse's horse, which was a very strategic move and allowed Thor to defeat him in battle. But, alas, I did not know that the horse was pregnant and it gave birth that night to Sleipnir, the eight-legged horse. I brought both animals home to the royal stable. The horses of the Hrimthurses are wild beasts, and very strong. But I managed to raise and tame Sleipnir. And when it was big enough, I gifted it to Odin, so that he could ride it to war."

You sat down on a chair near the wall, near the two nurses, who actually wanted to drink a coffee, but now - just like the children - listened spellbound to the narration. You also hang on to his every words.

Loki has truly earned his name silvertongue. He remains seated among the children and doesn't even use much gesticulation. He doesn't need to emphasize his story. His voice and words alone are perfectly sufficient for that.

You have heard some myths about the eight-legged horse Sleipnir, who is supposedly Loki's child. But it is something else to hear directly from him about what happened. He manages to make it seem as if you yourself were present at the ruse, when Loki conjured up mist in the middle of the night and crept in the darkness to the Hrimthurse's horse.

"Does that mean you can't turn into a horse at all?" one of the children asks curiously.

"Oh, I am absolutely able to do that." Loki's eyes flash mischievously at you and for a moment you're afraid he's really going to do that, as he demonstratively looks around. "However, I'm afraid it's a little too crowded here for a horse. You wouldn't want to be responsible for me knocking over all the furniture, would you?"

"No!" - "Yes!" resounds simultaneously from different mouths.

Fortunately, the nurses don't seem fazed and think it's all great fun.

"Tststs," Loki playfully scolds. "You little rascals." Suddenly he has a pair of dice in his hand, which he wills into the air and deftly catches again. "Have you ever heard of Loki’s Dice?"

"No."

"No? Well, let me tell you: it's a great game. And not just because I invented it. How about this: whoever beats me at it, gets a great prize. Who wants to try first?"

Several children's arms shoot up. Loki puts a finger to his lips and everyone is quiet as a mouse. He has this presence that grabs everyone’s attention.

He makes a show of making the dice disappear in his hands and reappear somewhere else. He'd be a really good sleight of hand magician. Along the way, he explains the rules, which are basically pretty simple. He even wrote a song about it, which he performs.

He has a wonderful singing voice. Like honey. And you feel like the fly that's caught with it. You could listen to him forever.

Loki throws the dice. The goal is to hit six. He throws a seven.

Loki throws the dice. All eyes are on the dice. He makes the bet disappear.

Loki rolls the dice. All sides show ones. He is the trickster.

It warms you to watch him. There's something very kind, but also a bit mischief about his interaction with the kids. They love it and he keeps them entertained and for a while makes them forget their pain, the various reasons they are here for. There is no trace of his arrogance or even the criminal that many see in him. You can get used to this Loki you're watching here. You wish to see this side of him much more often.

Hearing his rich laugh, seeing the twinkle in his eye just before he makes a great joke.

As indicated in the song, it's hard to beat him at his own game. Time and time again, the dice show a picture that shouldn't be on them at all. But one child after another finally makes it and Loki gifts each one of them a cube of their own afterwards.

"Do you dance?" a girl asks Loki afterwards. "Other heroes always dance when they visit us."

Loki's gaze darts to you briefly, noticing that you're watching him, amused but intrigued. He winks at you and it makes your heart leap. "I'm no hero, but I can show you a dance that is popular at feasts in Odin's halls," he says, turning to the girl. "But I need a partner for that." He holds out his hand to her and she jumps to her feet, giggling.

They begin with a bow to each other. Then they place their palms together and Loki softly hums the beat. They take a few steps in one direction, then he leads her into a turn and right back again. They are an uneven pair, the girl barely reaching Loki's waist, but she makes up for it with enthusiasm, swinging her feet with laughter.

Loki hands her his other hand and they dance a not-too-complicated pattern around each other. At one point the girl stumbles, but the Asgardian elegantly catches her and sets her back in her seat. He then bows to her.

"M'lady."

She giggles while another child holds up his arm.

"Me next."

Loki looks at the faces and puts his hands on his hips.

"For it to be a real party, everyone has to dance."

The children are immediately in it and scatter to their feet. Loki helps them form pairs and then shows them the steps again.

Shortly after, most of them are just jumping and laughing wildly, having great fun. Even the nurses are clapping along to a beat.

Loki appears at your side and before you can protest, he has grabbed your hand and pulled you among the dancers as well. Continuing to hold your hand, he places his right on your waist and leads you to the music of the laughing children. His eyes flash down at you in amusement.

This is not what you imagined for this day. Somehow it's much better.

Finally, the visit comes to an end. Loki takes his time saying goodbye, realizing the significance of what it means for the children to have to go back to their rooms and beds. He may also be intentionally delaying his departure a bit to keep them in the illusion of a normal, healthy day a little longer.

Nurse Chapel steps up beside you. "He's great," she comments quietly, glancing at the Asgardian.

You smile proudly, for you are happy for him. "Yeah."

"We have another boy here, Felix. He's fourteen and a big fan of Norse mythology. Unfortunately, he's too weak to leave his room. I know it wasn't part of the agreement, but do you think your Loki could pay him a quick visit?" She hesitates briefly while you still let the phrase 'your Loki' sink in. It sounds good. "It's not a sight for the faint-hearted," the head nurse then adds.

You blink and push the thoughts out of your head. "I'll talk to him," you promise her and she thanks you with a nod.

You go ahead and step out into the hallway. One of the SHIELD agents is sitting on a bench at the wall, looking up as you close the door. You spot the other standing at the end of the hallway.

"Are we done?" he asks you.

"Almost. How was it out here?"

"All quiet."

A few minutes later Loki comes out of the door, grinning and with his arms outstretched. He looks very pleased with himself and his gaze wanders to you.

“What do you think?" he asks you, "Did you enjoy the show?"

"You were great. I knew you would ace it." You beam at him and he seems satisfied with that answer. Then you bring up the head nurse’s request. "Nurse Chapel just asked me if you could visit another boy who is not allowed to leave his bed. Would you do that? If you rather go back home, that's totally fine and nobody wil-..."

"I'll do it," he interrupts you.

You smile at him. "That's very kind of you."

"Well, I am a generous god," he says cockily, but his tone is affectionately sarcastic.

You beckon Nurse Chapel to come over and share Loki's response with her. She gives him a grateful smile and leads the way. It's on another floor at the end of a hallway.

"If you could wait outside," she says, addressing you. "Too many people drain him."

"Of course." With a final pat on Loki's arm, he follows the head nurse inside while you and the two agents stay in the hallway. The door is just ajar and you hear the dark tone of Loki's voice. It's muffled and you can't make out any individual words. There is also a soft, steady beeping and something that sounds like a ventilator.

You think about stopping somewhere on the way home and grabbing food for everyone. They had earned it. It had been an extremely successful day. Loki has proven himself, you are very pleased with his performance. He seemed to have had fun as well, and you're already thinking about what project you might approach next. After today, your goal of having him join the Avengers team doesn't seem so unrealistic anymore. Maybe you should just tell him to think of them all as kids. Then maybe he'd get along with them better. The thought makes you chuckle.

Suddenly, you hear an alarm at the station and look up. You register that the soft, steady beeping has turned into a piercing sound. Several nurses and doctors come running up and into the room. The two agents have jumped up from their seats, but neither of you wants to stand in the way of a medic. Only when the way is clear do you rush into the room as well, ignoring Chapel's previous warning to wait outside.

In here, the sound is louder, almost ringing shrilly in your ears. There is only one bed in the room. You can't see the figure on it, because it's surrounded by doctors and nurses performing CPR. Loki is standing with his back against the wall, as if he had backed away. His face is pale - paler than usual - and horrified. He raises his head just as you enter and your eyes meet. In the next second, he vanishes.

Shit.

__________________________________

Tag List: @lokisgoodgirl @lokixryss @itsybitchylittlewitchy @yokshi-unbeliebubble @fictional-hooman @elennair @all-envy-suyu @purplekitten30 @elisadmaggiore @nothing2113 @baebeepeach @ceo-of-stfu @moonlightreader649 @ronipiamka @fluffybunnyu @ninjarose23

[theroastedwretch]

Between the Lines- Ep. 3

A/N: This one is pretty long, partially to make up for just how short the next one will be. Episode 4 comes at you pretty rapid fire by design, so it's harder to stretch out and still make it make sense.

Usual warnings apply, some no no words, innuendo/bad flirting. This one also features a bit more insecurity around body image than usual and discussions of mental illness, so if that's not your thing please keep that in mind.

Index Episode 2

I was cursing at my phone and muttering about stupid 20-somethings getting involved in shit they shouldn’t— and ignoring the irony— when I finally managed to get a grip on myself and start thinking a bit more clearly.

Should I text the others? The Hacker seemed pretty sure one of them was the culprit, and while I wasn’t totally positive, the timing of the threatening call seemed to support that. It had been early on in my communications with the group that it would have been surprising if my number had leaked beyond them by then. 

But if the Hacker was monitoring their phones, could the culprit be as well? I know he’d said he was putting protections on my devices, but if he hadn’t done theirs it was entirely possible someone could have gotten my number that way.

Not to mention, Thomas claimed the message with my number in the first place had come from Hannah’s phone. We’d been working under the assumption all this time that she’d sent it, but her phone had disappeared with her, and Thomas said the call he’d made had been answered by breathing. Despite what Joyce had claimed in Stranger Things, there was no good way to identify breathing.

What if it had been the kidnapper who sent them my number? The issue of “why me” remained, but it did make more objective sense that he would have access to the phone and use it for something other than calling the police (or their hacker friend). 

Hell, maybe my number has actually been a diversion. A random string of numbers sent to confuse them that happened to be my contact info? The coincidence was huge, but possible. In fact, was it even that big of a coincidence? Maybe for me, the person with the number, it felt that way. But on the outside looking in, most combinations of numbers with the right amount of digits would probably call someone. 

I wasn’t an investigator or police. I occasionally dabbled in writing mystery and did some escape rooms. I listened to true crime podcasts. But being that I was the core, stereotypical demographic for most of those things, that didn’t exactly make me uniquely qualified for any of this. 

My mind raced round and round, trying to piece together who I could trust, how I could help, and what my place in this whole clusterfuck really was. I actually had something of a reputation of being good under pressure (but collapsing as soon as it was gone— as shown by the time I’d giggled for like ten minutes straight after rushing around to put out Annie’s kitchen fire as she screamed and didn’t use the phone in her hand to call for help) but this time, maybe because there really wasn’t anything I could actually do, I found myself totally useless.

I’d worked myself up into such a fit that by the time Cleo texted, I was tense enough to yelp at the buzzing phone in my hand.

Thomas? I mouthed silently. The kid takes off after finding out about the body, gets weirdly aggressive at Dan to set up some sketchy deal he refused to mention by name, and then breaks into his girlfriend’s apartment? 

Cleo was clearly uncomfortable with it too, sounding more stilted and awkward than I’d ever heard her, even when confronting her about her newfound love of trespassing. Was he looking at her phone? Had he said something to her? 

It wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility to think he had a key— Annie’s boyfriend had one to our place, much to my chagrin— and Cleo was just as guilty of going in as he was. But something about her reaction put me on edge, so I hoped she’d get somewhere she felt freer to talk soon.

Jessy’s rage provided a good distraction, though I really wasn’t surprised to see the way the paper had “reported” the body. It fit for a small town, whose identity partially stemmed from the idea of being safe and close. How many times in the past had I rolled my eyes at my grandma declaring that “this stuff didn’t happen in her town” when she watched the news for the city I’d grown up in? These were places where you never locked your doors, knew the mailman by name. 

It became crucial to maintain that status quo at all costs, even if it meant relegating a murder to the back pages of a paper. Even if that meant the victim went unremembered.

Of course she was angry. Burying your head in the sand only felt good when it wasn’t your hurt being covered up.

Seeing her so upset brought back that feeling of helplessness I’d had with Cleo earlier. This time, there were things I could say, actions I could take. But nothing that would fix the situation or make her feel better at all. I could only let her vent. Even that felt so useless, it was only the tip of the iceberg.

Thomas’s return gave her something else to focus on, at least, even as I wondered whether it was planned or if his encounter with Cleo had forced his hand. I struggled to still see him as a devoted, grieving boyfriend after all this time.

The news that the body wasn’t Hannah’s perked everyone else up, but made me even more unsettled. As an outsider without any attachment to Hannah, a body appearing right after a kidnapping made things so much more complicated, and more dangerous. 

One was unfortunate, two was a pattern.

There was no way I could say that to them, though, or even the Hacker, so I was left to stew on that on my own through the rest of Thomas’s return conversation. 

Needing to process everything that had happened, I decided to go get some fresh air. I rarely took walks, I didn’t seem to get the cabin fever that others felt, and the pandemic had only made me even more comfortable hunkering down in one place. But suddenly I felt caged, like if I didn’t keep moving, I might collapse.

Something felt off to me, beyond the obvious. Why would the cops confirm anything to Thomas, who wasn’t Hannah’s husband and presumably had only a passing connection to the deceased woman? I knew that privacy in these cases wasn’t as strict as say, hospitals, and who knew what the laws in Germany looked like about that, but it still didn’t sit right with me. Maybe it was a small town thing? 

Googling “how much can the police release to non-family in a missing person’s case” got me nowhere even before I added in the jurisdictional aspect, and I started to get frustrated at how little I knew about any of this.

I’d had dealings with cops before, a rebellious youth plus some impulse control issues had seen to that. I’d dated some questionable men, no doubt about that, made some bad choices. I knew the basics of the law in some areas, but nothing significant. 

All of the recent happenings had me getting really frustrated with my ineptitude and getting pulled into this. I couldn’t say why I’d stuck around so far, really. It just seemed like everyone expected me to, and I didn’t want to disappoint them.

But hell, how was I not going to disappoint them? 

My life had begun revolving around this case, even when it probably shouldn’t. Outside of the movie day and going out with Annie, one of which involved Jessy and the other I still felt guilty over, I’d taken very little time away from this, and it was starting to wear me down.

Still, how did I tell these grieving friends that I needed a break? How would I leave them up to their own devices, considering even with my help they were breaking in to crime scenes, buying illegal items, and having breakdowns over found bodies? They were suffering worse than I was, and even knowing that I would crash, I felt responsible for that.

Hannah had been missing for weeks, and all I’d done was find a cat picture, pry into her medical information, and discovered some emo poetry. Poirot, I was not. I couldn’t help but think that the others blamed me for that fact.

As if hearing my doubts, the Hacker appeared. I hugged my sweater closer to myself despite the day actually being fairly warm, and considered putting him off. But I wasn’t going to make any progress without him, and the sooner we solved this mystery, the sooner I could nurse my ego and return to my life. 

I wasn’t at all surprised to hear he was reading in on my chat with Cleo, though I was a bit that he was watching my video chats. The insecure, dysmorphic part of me tried to remember how many chins I had while on screen, even knowing that he probably hadn’t looked at me once during the call. I knew it was silly, but I’d have to start considering my appearance a little more before turning on my camera. 

I’d meant to come off more teasing when I’d questioned whether my opinion mattered to him, but I knew I sounded desperate for his approval. Still, I was pretty surprised when he answered in the affirmative, seemingly genuine. My face burned when I admitted to the same, but it kind of felt like I owed it to him at that moment.

Of course, he quickly moved the conversation back to the matter at hand, and I tried not to let that sting. Once he admitted to his “flaw”, though, I couldn’t help but question myself even further. Did it extend to not realizing how he came off over chat? Had he not even noticed the times I was flirting?

It seemed like everything had me off kilter today, and I was desperate to hide under my blankets and let myself mope, at least a little. It was so like me, to get feelings for a guy on the other side of the world that I didn’t even know the name of who had no idea I’d spent weeks flirting with him. I felt like a teenager again, pining over a boy who told me that I’d have an easier time finding a boyfriend if I lost weight. 

Really, I thought I’d grown past this.

Massaging my temples as I walked back into my apartment, I let myself flop into bed despite how early it was. Maybe if I crawled into my safe space while texting, things wouldn’t bother me as much. Or I’d at least be less of an asshole and stop focusing on my own bullshit at a time like this.

I felt like I had to push back on his assertion that Hannah couldn’t have hurt herself. I clearly had more experience with depression than he had, and considering how he’d reacted to the SSRIs already, I worried it could break him. Besides, not all methods of hurting yourself came in the form that most people expected. Pretty much my entire early twenties was a testament to all of the ways you could hurt yourself without causing a single bit of physical harm.

I decided not to push that part.

We discussed the cloud entry (I resisted the urge to joke about my own shitty poetry, since I wasn’t making this about myself anymore)  and I was surprised to discover that he’d never met Hannah. He was maybe more invested in finding her than some of the group. 

I wasn’t making this about myself, so I didn’t worry that maybe they were romantic penpals or something. She had Thomas. 

I had to admit I felt pretty good about getting to tease him about the legends, and was glad to see it made him laugh. Not because I wanted his approval, but just because he was usually so serious. Of course. 

Finally, after exhausting all of the leads and updates either of us had— there was no movement on Poke’s number yet— he logged off suddenly and I sighed, taking the opportunity to wiggle deeper into my nest and think about nothing for a while. ___

I hadn’t intended to fall asleep, but I was shocked when I opened my eyes next to find that twelve hours had passed, and I suddenly found myself the topic of the group chat. Maybe I’d grilled Thomas too hard yesterday.

Dan: We don’t know anything about her, why should we trust her?

Seriously Dan? After facilitating some weird deal between Thomas and Poke, you want to start throwing stones? Maybe guilt and deflection, but annoying nonetheless.

I let myself get truly frustrated with them for the first time, reminding them of their responsibility for the fact that they knew nothing about me. Not like I’d been nothing but a vehicle to find Hannah or something to all of them but Jessy, right?

MC: I mean MC: You could ask

Thomas: What?

MC: I don’t have a whole lot of reasons to lie to you MC: Not beyond like “oh yeah I definitely do floss every day”, at least MC: So don’t ask that one MC: I will lie about that

Dan: We can’t even know if you’re telling the truth!

MC: Right MC: But if we’re talking stranger danger, it’s kind of 5 against 1 already.

Dan: Fine, so tell us about yourself

MC: Well that’s super unhelpful MC: I at least ask you guys questions

Dan: You mean interrogate? 

MC: Sure MC: Ask away

Jessy: What color is your hair?

MC: Ha!

I hit send while snorting before realizing that my amusement wouldn’t make sense to anyone in the group. 

MC: Sorry, inside joke… not a very good one. MC: Brown normally MC: But I get bored with that a lot.  MC: So like, less brown right now? I guess? 

Jessy: Oooh! What colors has it been?

I smiled a little, of course Jessy would show something of an actual interest while simultaneously asking questions that helped nothing.

MC: Well, I’ve done red streaks. Not like yours, Jessy, they called it “fire-engine red”. Red fades so fast, so I only did that once. MC: High school was when I did most of it. It was pink for a while. MC: Kept it bleached for a while, but I’m not a good blonde. MC: Blue in college. 

Thomas: Stop Thomas: Why are you doing this?

MC: Because she asked? And because if you guys keep not trusting me, we won’t get anywhere?

Thomas: No. I mean, why are you here?

MC: Because you added me to the group.

Thomas: You know what I’m asking

I groaned. I did, but where do you even start? How do I even explain, when I don’t really know myself? I knew I was on thin ice, though. Jessy liked me, and Cleo was open to me. But Thomas was, at best, neutral, Richy had barely spoken to me, Lilly was totally absent, and Dan… well, Dan was Dan.

What do you tell a group of strangers when they ask why you’re putting all of your energy into snooping around their personal lives? 

The hope that Thomas seemed to be fueled by, that I’d have some unknown connection and solution to everything seemed to have vanished. And that had really been my only connection to these people. 

“Sorry, I might want to bone the hacker you all hate, so I do what he tells me,” was pathetic on so many levels, and would do nothing to help me.

MC: Look MC: I’m an asshole, okay? My jokes are bad, I suck at people, and I’m just generally something of an acquired taste at best MC: But like, how do you walk away from people who want you to help find a missing person?  MC: I don’t know her. It’s crazy I care this much. But Thomas, you sent me all those pictures MC: And you’ve all talked about her so much MC: And I read the articles about it online and that made it so real too MC: I don’t know if I’ll be useful. Frankly, I’m usually not even at the best of times MC: But on the tiniest chance I can be, and I don’t try? I don’t think I’m prepared to be that much of a shit person. 

The silence after I wrote all of that stretched on long enough to make me sweat. Being genuine wasn’t something I practiced much, and I was mostly just glad I hadn’t had to say all of that out loud because I would have stumbled over it and messed it up somehow. However un-charismatic I was online, it was nothing compared to how I was in person.

After what felt like several minutes of nothing, I began frantically thinking of ways to take it all back. Despite the miles and miles between us, something about my words made me feel like I was standing in front of them all naked, so the lack of reply had me fighting not to claw my eyes out.

Finally, around the time I’d hunted down the dusty bottle of vodka I’d gotten as a gift for last Christmas and poured myself a glass with little enough juice that it did more for color than taste, there was movement in the chat.

Dan is typing…

Dan: Fine Dan: Stay

Dan is offline.

Cleo: Right, well… Welcome to the team.

I was a bit surprised to see the hesitation from Cleo, since she’d already called me at Hannah’s and admitted to several crimes, one of which I was complicit in. Maybe she’d only included me before since I was online and couldn’t stop her? Who knows.

Thomas is offline.

Cleo is offline. 

Richy is offline.

Only Jessy and I remained, which I guess I could have predicted at that point. Considering her line of questioning, and our active personal chat, it made sense that she’d be the one least likely to need to mull over my outburst. Which is why, when I saw a notification pop up seconds later, I didn’t hesitate to press it without looking at the name.

As it turned out, It wasn’t from Jessy. Instead, the notification led me back to my chat with the Hacker. 

???: You did surprisingly well.

Despite the fact that I’d normally bask a little bit in the compliment (however backhanded the qualifier made it feel), I only felt irritated. My frustration, insecurity and helplessness bubbled over, and even knowing how little he’d get those emotions from my words, he was the only one here to direct it at.

MC: Thanks? I think?  MC: Or are you just surprised they didn’t boot me out of the chat? MC: Look, I want to help, but you saw how that just went.  MC: I don’t do this, okay? I don’t know how to get people to like me, or trust me, or want to talk to me. Everyone who puts up with me in real life are either people who met me when we were young enough that being edgy and bitchy seemed cool, liked my mom enough to feel like they have to make sure I’m alive, or are getting paid in one way or the other.

???: I believe it went well, MC. You were quite convincing.

MC: Pf. Hardly. For Hannah, you need to find someone else. I can still do the cloud stuff if you want, but there’s got to be someone better to talk to the group.

The moment I hit send, a notification from the person I’d been expecting earlier appeared at the top of my screen.

Jessy: MC! I’m so sorry they acted so mean Jessy: They’re not usually like that, they’re scared. But that’s no excuse.  Jessy: You almost made me cry!

MC: I’m sorry! 

Jessy: No no, it was so nice! 🥰

MC: Mmh, Jessy, I made everyone run away.

Jessy: Trust me, they just didn’t know what to say. They hate being wrong!

While I wracked my brain trying to formulate a response, another notification popped up that I didn’t even bother to click this time.

???: ;)

Smug bastard. ___

After that, things were a little less tense in the group chat. The majority still weren’t particularly friendly,  but they’d at least seem to accept my presence. Dan was still kind of an asshole, but in a kind of way that I was used to, so I didn’t let it bother me. He seemed like the sort that people just kind of ignored most of the time, and I knew what that was like.

The chat wasn’t what I’d consider active, but they checked in on each other occasionally, tried to cheer each other up and touched base with platitudes and support. 

Jessy: MC Jessy: … Jessy: You there? Jessy: MCCCCC

Huh. It was strange for me to be addressed directly at the start of a conversation, but the fact that it was Jessy made it make a little more sense. I suspected she was trying to include me more and humanize me to the rest, a mission she’d kind of taken up recently.

MC: Hi! Sorry, I got a call.

Jessy: Aren’t you popular?

MC: No, no, never. Work. 😩

Jessy: Oh! You know, I don’t think we’ve ever talked about your job.

MC: Well, yeah, it’s not really been important. 

Other than my chats with Jessy, and the time Thomas had grilled me about my intentions, discussing me had been pretty low priority. I’d chime in here and there when the group chat dipped into the easy flow that happened in messages between old friends. And I never missed a chance to make a sassy comment or comment, which they’d quickly learned to ignore or roll their eyes at.

But it was true that in their eyes, I was still just a stranger. Even as I slowly started forming pictures of their lives and getting pulled deeper into Hannah’s world, the group as a whole still didn’t even know my last name. I hadn’t offered it, but they didn’t ask either.

After my hidden meltdown when the body was discovered not to be Hannah’s, I’d probably put up some barriers trying not to totally lose myself in their lives. It was wearing on my mental health in a pretty serious way, so while Jessy and I were continuing to bond, and Cleo had started talking to me more, I felt a bit detached overall.

Jessy: Still! Jessy: You’re always on your phone Jessy: Every time I’m on

I snorted at that, mainly because it wasn’t totally true. I wasn’t a morning person, and she was bright and sunny enough to be way too much until I’d gotten at least two cups of coffee in me. But after that, I did give my phone nearly my full attention.

MC: That’s what my boss just said on our call, haha. 🙃 MC: I work remotely, so I’ve got some flexibility MC: But I’ve been pushing that lately MC: And unlike someone, I’m not cute enough to get away with it

Richy: 😳

For all Jessy tried to hide when she texted non-stop at work, it was actually the worst kept secret. Especially since Richy was on nearly as much during the day. They didn’t acknowledge each other over chat all that much, but there was no way they didn’t notice they were both on.

But since it was just as obvious that Richy wanted to date Jessy…

Jessy: 😤 Jessy: But what do you do?

Of course neither would acknowledge it. They both knew, even if they wanted to pretend they didn’t. I was surprised the group didn’t heckle them for it more. Yet another way they differed from mine, I guess. I’d never live it down with them.

MC: Nothing very exciting. I’m called a “Customer Communication Quality Assurance Analyst”

Jessy: Right…

Yep, that was the usual reaction alright.

MC: Told you 🤣 MC: You know how when you call customer service, that message plays? MC: About your call being recorded? MC: Some companies review those in-house, but others contract out to a firm MC: So I work for one of those

Dan: You’re joking

He didn’t usually get involved when I was talking. He’d respond to the others, of course, but for the most part he preferred to ignore me completely. This would be interesting.

MC: No… why would I be?

Dan: You spend all day spying on people’s calls Dan: Just to open your phone Dan: And interrogate us

I actually was a little more offended than I should have been, which probably gave his point more credence. Still, it felt like there was a note of teasing to it that maybe could work in my favor if I played it right.

MC: Okay MC: Well when you put it that way MC: My life just sounds sad MC: And kind of creepy 😒

Dan: I mean, isn’t it?

MC: Hey 😤 MC: But actually MC: I wanted to be a teacher when I was younger

Jessy: Really?? That’s so cool

I hadn’t meant to prolong this conversation, but since Jessy had definitely become the one that both liked me best and I’d been most open with, maybe it would be useful to let them in a little.

And it was definitely for Hannah and not because I wanted the acceptance of these people. Of course.

MC: Mmh, no, not really.  MC: Could have saved myself a lot of time and money if I’d remembered I don’t like dealing with people that much

Jessy: What do you mean? Jessy: You’re so friendly!

Friendly? Jessy, I’m a raging bitch, covering up for the self-esteem of a goldfish with sarcasm and fake arrogance, the mouth of a sailor, and the gutter-mind of a 16 year old boy. Was that friendly?

MC: Sure, to people I like MC: But I made the mistake of being a TA in undergrad MC: Turns out, people can be really dumb and I have no patience 🤓

Cleo: MC!

Yeah. That would be a bit far for Cleo. She was nice enough, of course, but probably the one that struggled the most with my more insulting quips. Well, Thomas and Lilly hadn’t been much involved with me either, so maybe they’d have been yelling at me even more. Who knows?

MC: Yes, yes. I’ll be nice MC: I just get frustrated easily, I guess.  MC: Having to explain something over and over

Dan: Mmh, I’m trying to picture you as a teacher. It’s kind of funny.

I felt a surge of pride in realizing I’d kept Dan at least marginally engaged. Though actually, in other circumstances he might have actually been the one I was the most similar to. He seemed to also lack a filter and the capability to recognize when running his mouth was okay.

MC: Funny isn’t the word I’d have used

Jessy: Poor you 😫

MC: If I’m being honest, probably poor them 

Jessy: Oh no

MC: 😉 MC: It was better for everyone that I got out of that line of work MC: But it was too late to change my degree unless I wanted to spend way too much time backtracking MC: So I just found a job that would take a degree, no matter what it was.  MC: So now, here I am MC: Both professional and amatuer spy MC: Apparently 

Jessy: That suits you somehow

MC: I don’t know what to say to that MC: Should I be insulted or…?

Again, realizing my role in this group was still barely above the Hacker’s as far as my motives made my heart sink. They were right. My job here was to investigate, spy and uncover. But since I hadn’t really made them aware of just how creepy I was being, I was surprised to see that they considered me a “spy”, or even investigator. 

Jessy: No no! I just meant that you see things others miss Jessy: So it works for you

MC: Oh okay

Dan: Yeah, you’re a regular Sherlock Holmes

MC: Nah, he at least had cocaine to keep him awake. MC: I’m probably more like Harriet the Spy, tbh. 😂

The conversation didn’t continue after that, but I almost felt like I’d earned Dan’s respect even just the tiniest bit with that one. ___

I was somewhat caught off-guard when Richy added me after discussing the Man Without a Face in the legends chat that Jessy had made for us. I agreed with him that Jessy seemed more eager to latch onto the legend than most people would, but it made sense that she’d want to seize any chance she saw to step back from the idea that the killer could be human. 

For my part, the more I thought on the idea that someone would be masquerading as this mythical avenger, the more I saw it as a viable concept. Killers, especially ones that consider themselves righteous, love to glom onto characters that get across the message they want to embody.

My true crime podcasts taught me that much at least.

I teased him about Jessy more to get him off balance than to confirm he liked her— that much was already obvious. I wasn’t crazy about the power dynamics at play there, with him being her boss, but that seemed kind of like a thing that just happened in small towns. There were only so many people to start with. 

I considered lightly flirting with him to see if that was a better tactic, but frankly I couldn’t bring myself to. Jessy was a friend, and she seemed to like him too. I didn’t think he’d ever get up the nerve to ask her, but there was only so much playing in their lives I could justify before it felt icky.

Besides that, there was the question of my shadow.

Ruminating on that led me back to decrypting, a habit I’d taken up while trying to avoid thinking too much on him, his motives, and how much he even noticed about me. Ironically, decryption was the thing that should remind me the most of him, but I could generally focus on Hannah while doing the most annoying parts, since it was to benefit her. 

Sometimes I wondered how she would feel once she was safe. I couldn’t imagine she’d be interested in much to do with me— I was still pretty convinced she hadn’t sent my number— as I’d be mostly a reminder about this horrible time in her life. But would she resent me for the intrusions I’d made into her private life? 

As if sensing my guilt, the next file I opened was clearly another diary entry, once again filled with emotional conflict. It as much more straightforward than the last, written with a bit more clarity and thought rather than vomiting words up as they appeared in her head. 

I bit the inside of my cheek as I read over it a second time. I knew I had to send this to the Hacker, but Hannah’s distress had really been the only thing to faze him since that first, frantic call to her friends. I worried that this one, likely even direct enough for him to grasp the emotion behind, would cause him even more grief.

But he’d also be furious if he found out I kept something from him, even—or maybe especially— if it was out of a desire to protect him. Sighing guiltily, I sent it to him to discuss.

The conversation went a bit unexpectedly, though. Maybe he’d come to terms with our previous findings enough to prepare himself for this one, or maybe he was glad to have something a bit less hard to understand. He probably didn’t read much poetry with his flaw.

I wasn’t prepared for the fucking praise, though. Or really, my reaction to it was the problem. Instead of feeling patronized, it sent a bit of a jolt through me. So damn stupid, getting worked up over some guy telling you that you did a good job. I knew I had a bit of a submissive side but Jesus, really?

Wait. Could he have found that particular… interest… of mine when reading through my chats? Jessy and I got a bit detailed at times when discussing our preferences, after she got used to me it seemed like she enjoyed having someone to discuss things with.

What else had he seen on my phone and devices? He admitted to having full access but said he only looked at case-related things. Still, there was a lot of bullshit to wade through in order to find those case-related items. After he’d said not to worry about offending him, I’d mostly tried to forget he was there whenever I messaged people or screwed around on the internet.

But all it would take was one poorly timed screen-mirror and…

I scrambled to try to remember my recent activities and felt my face burn when I considered all of the possibilities. I wasn’t one to watch risqué videos, being more into reading and writing to alleviate my frustrations. 

Cool. Great. Awesome. He probably knew everything about my kinks and I didn’t know his name.

As freaked out as I was, the fact that I still didn’t know his name was starting to bother me. Especially in light of this recent realization. I could do it, right? Just ask his name? I mean, we’d been talking a while, he said he trusted me. I got the feeling I’d never see his face or talk to him without the distortion, but his name was innocent enough. 

Before I could chicken out, I typed it out, as a request rather than a question, and hit send.

Of course he’d ask why I cared. Of course it seemed ridiculous to him, I’d already suspected he had no idea what signals I’d tried to throw out. 

Would it hurt to try to be more obvious? I wondered. I was cringing at my screen now, trying to both type and shut my eyes to what I was saying as I admitted to liking him. I tried to make a joke of it, using the damn smilies Jessy had gotten me addicted to, but even someone who couldn’t read had to be able to just smell the pheromones and insecurity dripping off of every word.

Jake.

The emotional high of learning that, of being able to greet him properly for the first time, dampened a bit from the clear regret he immediately expressed. Still, he hadn’t left yet, so I I tried to salvage things a little.

Are you dating someone?

How could I not have melted at that? It was the most overt he’d ever been by far. So even when he fled again, I couldn’t keep the stupid grin off of my face. ___

I was pretty ashamed to only realize that Cleo had never gotten back to me about the situation with Thomas until she reached out again, saying that she needed to clear her head before we talked. Still, I should have checked in about it long before now, so the guilt of making it about me, again, pushed away the good feelings from earlier.

Learning that Thomas and Hannah had been arguing, that he no longer had a key to her apartment despite clearly having a way to access it, just solidified my need to check further into him.

Goddamn it folks, stop being shady and stop not telling me things. How is it this fucking hard?

I pinched my nose, attempting to slow my breathing. But learning that he took something from the apartment just shot my blood pressure back up through the roof.

I’d drank as much during this investigation— even ignoring my night out with Annie at the start— as I normally did in a year but I still couldn’t escape the urge for a shot. It was barely mid-afternoon so I resisted the urge, but barely. ___

After getting the book number for Jessy, Jake (that still felt weird) let me know he’d found Poke’s number. I got nervous when he revealed I’d have to call rather than text— I was a millennial, that’s my actual nightmare— and a little frustrated when he seemed to minimize the risk to me again. At this point, he should know I’d stick around even when I’m scared. But it would be really nice to whine and be comforted for five minutes before handing my number over to a suspected criminal. 

Still, I suspected that being comforting wasn’t particularly his style, and that even if he wanted to, he’d have very little reference for how to do it. 

And there was no denying that of the two of us, I was the better choice for handling the people part. I mean, we were still screwed, but I kind of suspected I was the only person he’d managed to charm recently and I still wasn’t totally possible how he’s done that.

So I groaned, put on my big girl panties, and called. ___

A locksmith. All of this cloak and dagger bullshit over a locksmith. A clearly unethical one, but why the hell would they not just pretend like Thomas had lost his own key or something instead of acting like the sketchiest fucking losers alive?

I wasn’t proud of my past associations, but I’d seen drug deals discussed with more grace than these folks were handling an exchange with a perfectly legal business and an obvious cover story.

Not to mention, why the hell did Thomas not know where her spare key was if Cleo did? I wasn’t sure how long they’d been dating, but it was probably long enough for him to know where her spare key was.

For some reason, I started to suspect less that the culprit was either Dan or Thomas, mainly because they apparently made the stupidest damn criminals I’d ever met.

Hannah, your friends are going to be the death of me, I swear. ___

As the group chat exploded into drama over Phil, I groaned out loud. A fight was a long time coming, especially between Cleo and Jessy, but did it have to be now?

I was working when it started, trying to clear my inbox that I was sorely behind on dealing with. Several of the calls I’d reviewed today had serious violations and one of the clients took the negative feedback really poorly. I’d had enough yelling for this week, thank you.

Annie popped open a can of coke behind me and leaned over to look beyond my shoulder at my phone. I tried to casually block her from seeing, but she was tall enough to catch sight of it anyway.

“Hey is that Jessy? How is she?”

“Fine,” I muttered, locking my phone screen and trying to ignore the rapid-fire buzzing. 

“What crawled up your ass?” She snarked, eying up my tense posture and tight expression. 

“Nothing, Annie, I’m just trying to work and no one will leave me alone!” I snapped, pushing my keyboard away from me in frustration.

She threw her hands up in surrender. “Jeez, sorry, I was just trying to help.” She turned away from me, toward her room, and took a loud slurp of her coke as she walked. “Let me know when you’re less of a bitch.”

“Right,” I mumbled to myself, getting myself more settled into my chair. “Focus.”

The incessant vibration wouldn’t let me, though, and I realized that I wasn’t going to get anything done until it stopped. Sighing louder than necessary, I once again got involved in something that had no good reason to be my business.

I felt bad for being relieved when Jessy stormed off and things cooled down relatively quickly after that. I reminded myself to reach out to her later, even though I knew she wasn’t the sort who liked to be left alone while she was emotional. 

The information about Phil was interesting, though. It wasn’t particularly a side of Hannah I’d heard anything about. But then, I’d only heard about her from people who loved her, and it already seemed like no one knew about her depression.

And boy didn’t I know the kind of questionable decisions depression could lead to. Not to mention, having learned that Thomas returned his key during a fight made me wonder exactly what their relationship was at the time of her disappearance. If they were broken up, maybe she’d been acting out her heartbreak in a way that would raise eyebrows in a small town. 

I suppose she could have been taken by a partner after all. Just not the one we knew about.

At the same time, Phil’s comments bordered on the Nice Guy style bullshit I and my friends had heard so often after turning a guy down. Men love to call women sluts for not sleeping with them.

No, I was supposed to be focusing on work. Work. It was bad enough to put off responsibilities for a kidnapping case, it was another to instead speculate on a woman’s sex life when I’d never met her.

Yet I was glad Richy was going to talk to Phil.

I managed to get through about half a day’s work before my phone started again. Spy mode was getting old fast, I have no idea why Jake liked this shit. I just don’t care about other people’s crap this much. I don’t even want to deal with my own social life!

Though it did catch my eye to see that Jessy and Dan were going on a date. Hadn’t seen that one coming, she’d never shown much of a soft spot for him and Dan didn’t strike me as particularly romantic.

But maybe I was just bitter considering “are you single” was the hottest my current relationship had gotten so far.

So much for doing work, I griped and started logging out for the day. Once I started brooding over things with Jake, I was never going to get back on track. I’d learned that the hard way.

Pretending it wasn’t at all to talk to him, I made my way out to the garden and curled up next to a bush to start decrypting in the sun. ___

The sun had set by the time I managed to get anything, but for the first time the picture made me pause. 

A Raven.

To be honest, a large part of me figured it was stupid kids. If this legend was as well known in the city as Jessy and Richy had implied, then it made sense for jagoff teenagers to run around marking things up with it. It was at least more creative than just doing penises like most of the graffiti I saw.

But it wouldn’t do to just dismiss it outright either. 

In fact, the more I thought about it, the more intriguing it was. Because it didn’t matter if it was just graffiti. The how or why of it being there might be totally irrelevant.

But what made it important was that Hannah thought it was important.

I suppose she could have just thought it was cool, or maybe she was interested in the legend or wanted to show Jessy, who clearly had a strong interest in the macabre. But not long after she’d taken it, she’d supposedly been dragged into the woods by the man this symbol was meant to represent.

Had she been pursuing him rather than the other way round? 

Trying to get around explaining to Richy and Jessy where I’d gotten the picture was a bit awkward. They seemed to know I was investigating on some level, and they knew I was in touch with Jake. But they hadn’t really put those things together or realized how deep I was digging, and I was pretty grateful for that. They would have to be offended on her behalf. I was offended on her behalf sometimes. 

But like, the police would be doing it too, right? Going through her personal life and putting it under a microscope, analyzing every word she said and who she said it to. At least I wasn’t her neighbor, her pastor, or anyone she had to deal with regularly. That had to be a comfort, I hoped. 

But I appreciated Jessy keeping Richy from asking more, either way. Her trust touched me, and made things much simpler for now. And processing this with someone other than Jake was strangely nice, despite how much I enjoyed talking to him.

Of course, then Richy had to get in a parting shot about where I got the picture. And the worst part is, he wasn’t even wrong. |___

The guilt of all— the hiding, the lying, the half-ignored responsibilities— it started weighing on me after that. Too much was at stake to back down now, but I could feel the suspicion pointed at me, and it was deserved. 

I wasn’t above half-truths or even the occasional lie, really. Sometimes it was just easier and better for everyone if the truth went unsaid. But this was snowballing out of control and I didn’t know how to stop it.

So I confessed the only thing I could think of that might not ruin everything.

MC: Jake?

Jake is online.

Jake: Hello, MC. Jake: Is everything alright? 

MC: I lied before. MC: And cheated.

I paused, trying to think of how to say it. Which I knew I should have considered before I even started the conversation, but planning wasn’t my strong suit when my emotions got the better of me.

Jake is typing…

Jake: To what are you referring?

Right. I’d gotten so used to him reading things and knowing what I meant before I said it that I just kind of assumed he knew what was going on in my head.

MC: The bet. MC: I’m sending your credits back.

After hitting enter, I quickly opened the app he’d sent me my winnings through and sent them all back. I hadn’t done anything with them, it felt kind of gross.

Jake: I appreciate your honesty, but I’m not sure I understand. You found the information more quickly than I could.

MC: Right, well. That’s because I already knew what SSRIs were for. I’ve been on them for years. MC: I’ve been depressed since I was a teenager. I don’t even know why I pretended. MC: I was just surprised you didn’t know already and then you were SO shocked and uncomfortable about Hannah and I got worried you’d think differently of me too so I just went with it.

He typed and erased several times, and my mind became a whirlwind of regret. Why was I doing this? He didn’t ask to hear all about my problems. It wasn’t like I’d conned him out of a huge prize. But I was so tired of lying, and lying to him felt especially wrong after he’d been letting me in. 

Jake: MC, I never thought less of Hannah for her depression. I was upset to find out that she was suffering.

MC: It seemed like you were, I don’t know, struggling with your perception of her. 

Jake: Not in a negative way, not toward her. And I am sorry that it made you feel like you had to hide or be ashamed in any way.

MC: I’m usually not like this with it, you know? I mean in high school I was, but that went super poorly so I made myself talk about it. 

Jake: You do not have to talk about it if you’re not comfortable.

MC: No, I want you to know. It’s a part of my life. And really so much about me makes way more sense when you realize my brain doesn’t really do what it’s supposed to.  MC: Sorry, dark humor is my main coping mechanism.

Jake: I had noticed.

MC: Yeah, it’s not particularly subtle.  MC: And just so you know, I’m stable. The meds help, and I do therapy as needed. There are still bad days and stuff but that’s always going to be true. MC: That’s part of why I kept pushing about you realizing it was possible that Hannah had hurt herself, too. MC: Like you said, that’s not the case here since you saw it. But it does happen. And I know my friends and family were even more upset when something would happen because it caught them off guard.

Jake: Is that something

Jake is typing… 

MC: Let’s save that conversation for another day, maybe?

Jake: Of course.

MC: But the good news is that maybe it means I can provide some different perspectives on things, right? Like that first cloud entry. MC: Really, I just have to hope that if I get kidnapped no one gives enough of a shit to sort through my stuff like this because there’s nothing good to be found in my sad folder.

Jake: “Sad folder”?

MC: Don’t even try, it’s super old and on a flash drive somewhere that hopefully fell out of whatever box I put it in when I moved here and got crushed by several cars.

Jake: How oddly specific.

MC: Fantasies are what keep a girl going, right? MC: Jake?  MC: Thank you for listening.

Jake: :)

Jake: Thank you for your trust. 

Jake is offline.

Later, after the third or so time that I re-read our conversation, I tried to work out exactly what it was that made trust so important to him. In our particular situation, we did need to trust each other to a point, but somehow it seemed bigger than that. It was like my trust was some precious trinket to him that he was grateful for each reminder of.

Admittedly, at times that trust felt a little bit more like blind faith, even toeing the line on being foolish. But my instincts told me that he was involved for the right reasons, even if sometimes his methods were at times a bit cold. ___

Somehow, maybe the drink I’d mixed while getting ready for my date with Jessy, it hadn’t occurred to me to think that Jake might have been reading along. I’d gotten used to it by that point, hell, sometimes it even felt reassuring. But it wasn’t until it had started winding down and he messaged me that I realized.

Jake: Hello, MC.

MC: Hello, Jake

He always greeted me so formally, it made me think of a handshake and firm eye contact. I chuckled, picturing us meeting for the first time with a handshake.

Shaking my head at myself, I looked down at my phone.

Jake is typing…

Here, he erased, paused, and started again.

Jake is typing…

After a few minutes of waiting, I started to get concerned.

MC: Is everything okay?

Jake: Did you enjoy your evening?

MC: So you were reading along again 😆

Jake: Yes, it seemed interesting that she chose to cancel her date to speak to you. I wanted to see if there was any information that could be useful to us.

MC: Well, did you see anything interesting?

Jake: Why do you believe that she made the decision to stay home and speak to you?

I wondered for a second if it bothered him. We’d never explicitly discussed my sexuality, and Jessy and my rapport sometimes played hopscotch with the line between bubbly and flirty in that way that every bisexual woman has been confused by at some point in their lives. 

MC: Because I’m great 😎 MC: But also Dan kind of sucks

Jake: Regardless, I imagine she would have had a more enjoyable time going out rather than making small talk over orange juice.

MC: Depends on the company I guess 🤷🏻‍♀️

Jake is typing…

Jake is typing…

MC: Did I make it weird again?

Jake: No. Jake: Of course not. Jake: A virtual date was simply a concept I was previously unaware of.

Jake never really spoke informally, but at least lately he’d seemed a little less… stiff. I groaned, suspecting that, despite his denial, I’d made it weird. 

MC: Well MC: I think the voice distortion and hidden face might make it a bit more difficult for you MC: My mom did tell me not to talk to strange men online 😂

Jake is offline.

And there it is.  Not surprising, that could easily have been viewed as an insult. Especially after we’d been seemingly getting closer lately. But my life had totally been taken over by strange men on the internet lately, so I considered it somewhat fair to at least acknowledge that it was weird.

MC: Look, sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it. My mom WOULD be rather annoyed if she saw me now. But it’s not like this is even the worst thing I’ve done. MC: Really I think I’m mostly surprised that you haven’t had a virtual date before. MC: It seems like that’d be right up your alley. Computers and girls at the same time.

His status didn’t change after my messages, so after a few minutes I let myself bonelessly sprawl across the couch and sigh. I read through a few bullshit articles online, shared some memes on Facebook, and waited to see if he’d log back on. That had happened a few times, after he’d done whatever he needed to in order to get over the embarrassment, annoyance, or brain breaking I’d subjected him to. He did need me, to a degree, and as inconvenient as my personality was for him, it was more to his benefit to keep me sweet.

Which probably made me a bad person for taking advantage of that for my own amusement just a little. But he could well be using me to find his friend so at least we both got something out of it.

It took longer than usual for him to come back this time, maybe I’d really pissed him off. But around the time I’d started scrolling through some cat pictures on Reddit, he came back.

Jake is online.

Jake: My apologies, something needed my immediate attention.  Jake: I don’t know how my small talk abilities didn’t make it abundantly clear, but I haven’t had the time or opportunity for many dates in the recent past, virtual or not.

My eyes widened a tiny bit. Personal information AND multiple contractions? The language was still very stiff, of course, but there was a tiny bit less formality than earlier. Maybe he wasn’t reading as closely before he hit send. Trying not to chicken out?

Pure speculation, but I liked the thought.

MC: Shame. They can be fun, even without the orange juice.  MC: What with the pandemic and all, it was that or nothing, so I tried my hand at it a few times. MC: Nothing came of it but you know. It passes the time.

Jake: Is that where your ability to connect with the group without meeting came from?

Interesting question, even feeling a bit loaded. I’d already confirmed I was single, of course, and I’d said I liked him more than once by now. But that still left a lot of room between “hermit” and “almost having a partner”, and I wondered if he was trying to suss that out.

MC: Not entirely. Most of my friendships are online ever since I moved a few years ago. I’m not the greatest at initiating conversation so I’ve mostly stuck with keeping in touch with them. MC: Keeping and forming connections aren’t the exact same, but since this lot seems to keep me close because Hannah sent my number, it helps.

Jake: I refuse to believe that you aren’t good at initiating. Jake: Conversation.

Oh, that made me laugh. I wanted desperately to push a little harder on that one, but he’d already logged off once and I was really enjoying talking to him. I got up and poured myself another glass to help me relax a bit further, since the one from my date with Jessy had started to wear off.

MC: I’m actually very shy at first, believe it or not. It’s only once I get comfortable with someone that I become the giant pain in the ass you see before you.

Jake: Does that mean you feel comfortable with me?

MC: Clearly. That’s how transitive property works, right?

Jake: Are you sure that’s the transitive property?

MC: Nope, but it is now.

Jake: Haha. Jake: You are quite intriguing.

MC: Boy, you know how to charm a girl. I guess “intriguing” certainly isn’t the worst I’ve been called though.

Jake is typing…

He stopped. I again waited for him to log off, but after several long beats, he hadn’t. I decided to put him out of his misery a little.

MC: So how much were you able to dig up on me? I’ve been curious.  MC: I can only assume by this point that you know more about me than I do.

If he was surprised or unnerved by the change in topic, he didn’t show it.

Jake: I looked, of course, before I gave you access to Hannah’s information and the spy mode. Jake: It was possible that the reason she had your number was because you were the culprit.

MC: Guess being across the world helped reassure you.

Jake: That was part of it.  Jake: Additionally, everything I saw pointed towards you being a perfectly normal woman.

MC: Normal? You must be bad at your job, sir. MC: But you didn’t actually answer what you dug up.

Jake: No, I did not. Jake: But I suppose you deserve to know. Jake: As you’ve mentioned, I have access to your phone. That allowed me to find your social media profiles and email very quickly. Jake: You don’t list your job on social media, interestingly. Nor the last several.

MC: No way I’m making it easier for them to find the shit I say. MC: I’m not sure I’d get fired faster for the nerdy bullshit or the liberal rants.

Jake: It’s a good idea to keep those separate, of course. Jake: It still would not be impossible to find. Jake: But you also use a nickname on social media and your legal name for work. Jake: And separate emails. Jake: That helps as well.

MC: My, are you this thorough with everything you do? MC: But the analysis is good. Though I’m sure you still found more.

I grinned into my glass a little. There was a chance he wouldn’t pick up on the suggestion behind my comment, but I wouldn’t mind letting him stew on it just the tiniest bit if he managed to. 

Jake: Of course. Being thorough is required in my line of work, so it’s part of my nature.

Damn. Just enough that he could still be talking about hacking. Or he could be volleying it back. And in order to know, I’d have to be more obvious. But I couldn’t let him win like that, so I decided to let it go for now.

MC: I’m not that easily deterred. If you found my work email, you found my LinkedIn.

Jake: Yes, of course.

MC: And knowing my email means you know the username for just about everything.

Jake: Yes.

MC: So, anything interesting?

Jake: Well, to be honest, once I’d found your socials and work information, I had enough to determine you were safe to contact.

MC: And I totally believe that someone we’ve established as being painstakingly thorough stopped there.

Jake: After some of our conversations where I revealed more details to you, I did look a bit further. I connected you to an old username it doesn’t seem you use any longer.

Oh, damn. I should have expected that, but suddenly realized just how many old profiles I had under that name. Everything from dating profiles, to forums, to fanfiction. It went back as far as middle school.

Jake: I stopped after finding an old Xanga and LiveJournal. At that point, it no longer felt appropriate.

Okay, maybe he didn’t find my RPG posts. I hoped.

MC: I would have thought you’d find those entertaining. I was pretty angsty and faux-deep. Almost as bad as my sad folder. MC: Loved me some sparkly HTML backgrounds.  MC: I got them all from a source of course, we can’t all be geniuses, and I considered myself something of a writer at the time. Coding was never my thing.

Hopefully, leaning into the embarrassment would get rid of the blush on my face. Plus, the second glass of wine was certainly helping to loosen my lips, er,  fingers.

Jake: To be totally honest, I was far too busy remembering my own teenage angst to focus too heavily on yours.  Jake: I scrubbed my own profiles years ago.

I smirked.

MC: Hm, now I’m curious what you used. MC: You can’t be too much younger than me if Xanga and LJ brought you back. MC: But I guess you could still be a late MySpace, early Facebook user and still remember those. MC: I’d bet good money you got your hands on a computer young, and probably had even less oversight than I did.

Jake: Mmh, but I thought your mom told you to be afraid of internet strangers.

MC: But she also believed I’d listen. It’s like she didn’t even know me. 🤭  MC: You’re probably not even the worst stranger danger I’ve let myself get involved with.

Another pause, but this one felt a little more comfortable. Maybe he was curious and wondering if he should ask. Or maybe he was pondering the meaning of “get involved with”. Maybe he just didn’t know how to reply.

Still, this time felt rather friendly, like the last hour or so had relaxed something in us both. I had no idea if he was flirting back or just clueless, but I didn’t sense any discomfort beyond maybe uncertainty. 

Jake: MC, I have to go. Jake: But thank you, I enjoyed this time.

MC: Hopefully it made good practice for your next virtual date. 😝

Why would I say that? And why did that thought bother me that badly? Of him taking our conversation and using it to charm someone else? 

That’s not good.

Jake: We shall see. Jake: :)

Well, fuck. 

Honestly, I probably could have dwelled on that for the rest of the night. But nothing sobers a girl up and jerks her out of daydreaming about men quite like a rapid fire confession of lawbreaking from someone who you thought hated you, discovery of a lead on a kidnapping case, and realizing that the initials on that same lead may well match the initials of the guy you were just daydreaming about.

After a nearly sleepless night, I would come to realize that nothing cleared up exhaustion quite like a threatening call and learning that someone you knew was barely clinging to life, either.

NEXT

[traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors]

tw: underage nude sharing, underage erotic roleplay, underage sexting, possible victim blaming, discussions of rape and molestation

hi! im seeking support, reassurance, and resources, mostly. but i also just want to get a few things off my chest. ever since i was seven i would engage in erotic roleplay often involving rape and non consensual scenarios with much older guys. i didn't really know what i was doing, i was a very hypersexual child for reasons unknown to me and i didnt have any outlet other than social media. for some reason i was obsessed with the idea of being raped and molested, i feel really ashamed about that still. i felt really gross after doing it but i kept going back anyway. when my parents found out they said it was my fault and that those men couldve gotten in trouble because i lied about my age and tricked them, which i still believe was wrong of me to do. but the violent and angry way my parents reacted really affected me and that whole situation really ruined my relationship with sex and my trust in my parents.

when i was 14 i willingly started sending nude pics of myself to older guys who asked. they knew how old i was and i never lied about that. i stopped after a few weeks because i started feeling physically ill from the shame. my parents never found out about the whole situation but that was around the time when i thought i could tell them about how traumatizing the whole "thing that happened when i was 7" was for me. they git angry and told me i had no right to claim it was csa of any kind and that it was a slap in the face to real victims. it really hurt me and i havent told them anything since.

its been a year since then and recently ive actually started sending those pics of myself again. im really ashamed over it and i dont know why i keep doing it. the guys are all aware of my age, so im not lying now either. i feel weird and embarrassed about it but i dont feel like i can actually call this sexual abuse or grooming because im doing this on my own accord. im scared to tell my friends because i dont want them to look at me differently. i cant tell my parents because i know how angry theyll get. i dont really know what i want. anyway, my ending question is: is this actually sexual abuse if i quite literally asked for it over and over? is there a name for it? im scared i wont ever be able to live a normal life.

thank you so much, sorry for this shitshow lol, and have a nice day ❤️

Hi anon,

I'm so sorry to hear about what you've been going through. Please know that it takes a lot of strength and courage to not only endure these experiences, but to reach out and seek support.

It's worth self-reflecting on what you seek from these interactions, whether that's regaining a sense of control, seeking validation and praise, reenacting earlier trauma, or other reasons. Please know that none of what you experienced is your fault, and it wasn't right of your parents to blame you instead of the people that harmed you. That being said, you deserve to work towards choosing healthier alternatives to interacting with these men.

It's important to recognize that children cannot consent. Even if someone willingly puts themselves in a situation they know may be dangerous, that doesn't make them any less of a victim because either way they are still being abused and still deserve compassion, understanding, and patience. What happened still counts as SA. Experiencing these things as a child counts as CSA, and it happening over the internet qualifies it as NCCSA, or NCSA as an adult. Sending nudes of yourself as a minor counts as CSE, CSEM, and CSAM.

If you can access or afford it, a mental health professional such as a therapist could best help you process your trauma, collaborate with you to develop some healthy coping mechanisms, and guide you along your healing journey.

I hope I could help and please let us know if you need anything.

-Bun

[marmolita]

OKAY it’s lunchbreak time which means I can come write some kinda sorta meta for the like three people who care about both these fandoms about how Final Fantasy XV and Supernatural are philosophical opposites.  Spoilers ahead for both FFXV and spn!!  Hopefully we’re far enough in the future from the releases of both of these that nobody cares about spoilers anymore but YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

SO

Final Fantasy XV is, at its core, a story about Noctis coming to terms with his fate and the fact that he has to die to save the world.  Part of it he knows is his destiny and part of it he doesn’t know the details of, but fundamentally he is on a journey of self-discovery and coming-of-age.  At no point in the entire game does he attempt to find a way out of his destiny.  He knows he’s the king of light and he’s going to fulfill this destiny, it’s just a matter of when and whether he’s going to be strong enough to do it.  And yeah, he delays it -- or, the player delays it, at least, by tooling around fighting monsters and going on side quests instead of proceeding to Altissia.  He’s not ready for it.  He has to go through hell and lose people he loves before he’s ready for it.

In the end, though, he accepts his destiny and walks tall to his fate, and he dies, and the world is saved as a result.  We all cry because we’re sad for him, and we’re mad that he has to die, and we wish he could have a happier ending, but we understand that he’s doing what he has to do and he’s being a hero and this is the ending that this story needs to have.  It’s tragic but it is, fundamentally, a happy ending for the world.

MEANWHILE

Supernatural is season after season after season of either Sam or Dean or someone they love needing to die in order to save the world, and not doing it.  Or, they die and then come back the next season!  This isn’t a coming of age story.  It’s not about learning to accept your fate.  Supernatural is all about standing up to your fate and saying, “Fuck you, I’m not going to sacrifice myself for this, there has to be another way.”

Supernatural is about never giving up on finding a way to SAVE your loved one from their fate.  Changing their fate!  Rescuing people.  Sam needs to die to close the gates of hell?  Dean says yeah no I will doom the world to being full of demons forever because I will not accept my brother dying for it.  Dean needs to be locked in a Ma’lak box and dumped under the ocean to save the world and we know that that’s absolutely what needs to happen because it’s written in Death’s book as the only possible outcome?  Sam punches him in the face and is like nope!  You’re not doing that!  Fuck this!  And somehow another option arises and Dean doesn’t have to live in a coffin for eternity.

There are so many discussions in the late seasons about “I believe in us” and “we can find another way, we always do,” and it’s just really fascinating to me how the entire emotional core of this show is that you don’t need to die to save the world.  You don’t need to let your loved ones die to save the world.  You, as an individual, should never stop fighting to change their destiny, and guess what!  In this universe, somehow, it always works.  (....leaving aside the discussion of how all the women die for real, obviously there is nuance here but I’m talking about the primary throughline of the series)

ANYWAY

I’m not making a judgement call on which philosophy/moral is better.  I love both of these canons and I love both outcomes.  I have loved “hero has to die to save the world” stories since the first one I encountered (shoutout to Diane Duane’s Deep Wizardry) in all their incarnations, and I can find emotional catharsis in “yes you do really have to die” and “you found a way to not need to die” and “someone else died so that you didn’t have to.”

I’m not qualified to speak on the subject but I do feel like there’s also a certain amount of cultural impact here as well, like, Supernatural is an extremely American show.  Individualism and freedom are at the core of this “hell no I’m not dying for this” story.  Meanwhile, FFXV is extremely Japanese, and honorable self-sacrifice has been a thing in Japanese culture for centuries.  It’s interesting also considering how Supernatural is also a show fundamentally based on Christian religion and Christianity is all about a dude who died to save everyone, and yet somehow that’s not a thing that’s going to happen to our main characters.

Anyway idk!!  I just find it fascinating that there are two very different approaches to the same “gotta die to save everyone” story.

[weabooweedwitch]

to that prior anon: what makes something a disability is how it impacts the life of the person who has it. for example, you use arthritis as an example of smth being "just a medical condition" but without medication that would cost more than $12k/month if I didn't have insurance, I am in constant pain and literally cannot walk or use my hands. my arthritis is disabling, while for others it's just constant low level pain and they may not consider it a disability.

please remember it's up to the person with the medical condition to determine if it disables them, and it varies person to person even with the same condition.

In their defense i think they were just asking a question because it is definitely like, a weird gray area? It honestly brings up a good discussion about, when do you you start calling something a disability, and how, I think, the broken health care system really, uh, falsely categorizes a lot of people based on what insurance is up to. Also different countries apparently have different guidelines, like for example my Canadian friend gets disability benefits literally just for being autistic despite being very "high functioning", putting that in quotes just because I know that can be kind of a controversial term.

But also, I'm so sorry you deal with that, I dont quite have arthritis but I can totally empathize wirh chronic physical pain 🥺 its actually horrifying reading the prices of some of these treatments sometimes and im really glad you have your medicine taken csre of. I often think about what would've happened to me if I hadn't been on state insurance when I was diagnosed with my equinus, I think it was literally like at least 5k per leg (i actually barely remember tbh, it couldve been higher or lower), which, I guess ultimately isn't a lot, but on my income and my moms income would have been so significant I would've felt actual guilt seeking treatment. Like, there was a legitimate possibility that the mere price could have kept me from... walking normally? And like my mom is 58 and she's been told she qualifies for knee replacements but she's literally scared of even getting them because of how long the recovery period can be and the financial loss and also just the price? So my mom could end up in legitimately worse health, although I guess that also has to do with like, America not having good workers rights where she could've taken off laid leave for surgery or something

It's that whole expression about "disability is defined by the environment" or something like that. Sort of like that whole controversy with Mr Beast where he paid for a bunch of people to get their sight or hearing back. Those people had treatable conditions and were stuck living in a way that negatively impacted their lives simply because they couldn't afford it? Like I can't even imagine not being able to use one of my five senses just because I couldn't afford it, but I know that's um already a reality for like, people who can't afford hearing aids and stuff like that

I think I'm starting to ramble here but like, I wish people had more sympathy for the disabled (and im talking about like society, not the last ask just to be clear, I feel like they were legitimately just curious). Like sometimes when you see people like violently hating the homeless, sometimes those people are literally people who got into horrible accidents or had some sort of injury and they wound up addicted to painkillers and had to turn to drugs when they can't afford prescription pain meds or those prescriptions get them addicted. I had a manager who was in a car accident and the painkillers made her eventually switch to straight up heroin. Even our disabled vets don't get good healthcare half the time

But yeah, as for me, I guess consider myself kind of straddling the line between disabled and able bodied, leaning more towards able bodied, but I can still have issues, like my knees are still kinda jacked up and even though i can stand and walk great now, stairs can be really tough sometimes, especially when I'm coming home from work and my body aches. and I still get pains in my back sometimes when I'm bending and leaning to the point I use a menthol roll-on gel for pain relief. Part of me kind of likes that I, I dunno, overcame the challenge and all that, but like, I think I would've preferred a body that didn't hurt lol 😅

[hollygl125]

#about me

Tagged by @coping-via-clint-eastwood. (Fun! Thank you!)

What book are you currently reading?

Lady Chatterley's Lover, by D.H. Lawrence. I literally did not read a book last year (except for a few chapters in the book recommended by my therapist), and I had been meaning to start this one for about the last three months, so having to answer this question actually motivated me to get through the first few chapters! So far, so good.

What's your favourite movie you saw in theatres this year?

I honestly do not remember the last time I saw a movie in theatres, and it certainly wasn't in the last year.

What do you usually wear?

A lot of sweats and Lululemon if I'm not leaving the house. Maybe just a towel if I'm living overseas and it's really hot. If I'm going out in public, then it really varies! A blazer if I have to be professional, I suppose.

How tall are you?

5’9”—Sara Sidle’s height, if we go by silly things like Jorja Fox’s actual height and not ridiculous props made to give the impression that she isn’t practically the same height as her leading man. (I love that she’s practically the same height as her leading man.)

What's your Star Sign? Do you share a birthday with a celebrity or a historical event?

Aquarius.

Robert Burns (i.e., Robbie Burns Day) and Virginia Woolf, although I'd call them literary figures not celebrities. Alicia Keys, if you want an actual "celebrity."

The day Jorja Fox announced she would not "Sidle up" for the second season of CSI: Vegas because Grissom and Sara belong together—also known as the day I could finally chill the fuck out a little. (Yes, for purposes of this blog, this qualifies as a historical event. It was the first thing I saw that morning. Happy birthday to me!)

Do you go by your name or a nickname?

For this website? Maybe we could call it a pseudonym.

In real life? Generally my name, but I will respond to nicknames.

Did you grow up what you wanted to be when you were a child?

Yes, and it fucking sucks. No joke. The mental health and substance abuse stats back me up on this. I'm considering other options.

That said, in the above context I am discussing your typical private practice job. I've had some amazing overseas internship/work experiences in my field. It also has possibly the most potential to effect societal change, so that's always good! (But that's not what's happening most of the time in private practice, of course.)

Are you in a relationship? If not, who is your crush if you have one?

Nope, not currently.

For consistency's sake, let's go with this fellow:

What's something you're good at vs something you're bad at?

Attention to detail vs. remembering not to get lost in the details.

Dogs or cats?

As per previous: DOGS!!!!!!!! DOGS DOGS DOGS DOGS DOGS DOGS DOGS DOGS DOGS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(I concur.)

If you draw/write, or create in any way, what's your favourite picture/favourite line/favourite etc. from something you created this year?

I will also do a shameless self-promo:

Survivors in the Night: A Las Vegas Love Story on AO3 and FFN.

So far I’ve only posted about 25,000 words, but I’ve written just over 90,000 words (excluding footnotes) so far. (I was ostensibly done at 50,000 words, but I keep adding random bits throughout. And I literally have three different chapters that were originally supposed to be the last. I’m almost certainly almost completely done now, though. Almost.) And honestly I’m obsessed with all of it. That probably sounds weird, but I wrote exactly what I wanted for them (my headcanons, my daydreams, just generally a lot of my favourite things, etc.), so it makes me super, super happy. (Honestly I just need them to be together and super happy! They belong together!)

Even though I’ve been a TV obsessive for many, many years, this wasn’t something I would have expected for myself a year ago. (Honestly, it wasn’t something I expected for myself up until one day before the day in late June when I started doing it.) Still, I’ve had a lot of fun with it (by which I mean a lot of fun with the writing—the sharing is definitely a roller coaster ride of feelings—some wonderful and some less so—a large proportion of which lead back to anxiety).

I’ve also had a lot of fun making some collages/mood boards recently. (I tried making a GIF once, but I think my time is better spent elsewhere.) This works pretty well with my love of photography and attempts to improve my Lightroom skills (although I did not use Lightroom for either of the collages I’ve included with this post, except maybe on my own photographs used in this first collage).

So, in short, I’ve really fallen down quite a rabbit hole….

What's something you would like to create content for?

Still just the science nerds:

I'd like to make a video to go with the above series, using the song I'm using for the story titles, but, given the aforementioned attention to detail and inability not to get lost in the details, I feel like this would end up being a massive undertaking. (I am very... thorough.)

When I started posting this series, I had a lot of anxiety about it, and one of the ways I distracted myself was by coming up with an outline for a very, very AU story (like: different continent, different century). I'd have to read a few fairly dense books before I could even think about writing it, though, so I feel like this would potentially be a five-year (or whatever) project that I pick up when I need a diversion. (I'm sure about three people would read it if and when I finished.)

What's something you're currently obsessed with?

Really? Okay, if you insist—them:

What's something you were excited about that turned out to be disappointing this year?

The first half of my year was a colossal shitshow, although I can't say I was excited for it in the first place. I really don't even want to think about it, though, so let's move on....

I’m supposed to be doing a gratitude journal (again, therapist), and I haven’t done it in about four months, so I’m going to turn this around and talk about something that turned out better than expected. This summer I applied for a short-term overseas work experience. I thought I didn’t get it; I cried from the rejection. It turned out they were just slower with their process than planned. I got it. I stopped crying. I got paid (a stipend, accommodation, travel expenses, etc.) to do some really cool overseas work in my field. The place was beautiful. The people were wonderful. I’m pretty bummed to have left, but now I am travelling for three weeks before returning home, and I’m very excited about it. So it was a good end to what started out as a really terrible year.

What's a hidden talent of yours?

Well, basically everything about me is hidden on this website, but I can tell you that I used to be really good at math (like, I did my undergrad in the humanities but took a couple math courses to raise my average).

Are you religious?

No, but I looove Christmas.

What's something you wish to have at this moment?

For someone to walk into this place (hotel bar) and make me see stars. (No entomology experience required.)

⭐️⭐️⭐️

If you’re reading this and feel inclined, consider yourself tagged!

[lawyerserving456]

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[enigmaincrimson]

I will say is that if I make it so Evelyn is picked up immediately after her adoptive parents' passing... It does and doesn't change things.

For starters, the "Yer a wizard arry." moment likely comes off differently.

The earliest point is ten years old, the second possible point is the beginning of highschool. While there was a later point... I am going to say that that one doesn't work well.

Generally, there's difference between living with someone for... Eight or so years and three.

For starters, her being around is more "normalized", so it opens up prior relationships with parties further outside of the family.

It also opens up more subtle use of the Crossroads faction.

So... I'm now kind of wondering how mistaken racial identity would affect dynamics. I mean, it wouldn't be far off if every party that encounters her in a vacuum would have different ideas of what she is.

Her close friends and family would think nothing of it as they would know those aren't feathers, but those wings would get her misidentified as a fallen angel if they saw them.

So I could see her having very unusual interactions with the fallen angels when they come into town. Like... Hearing or not hearing of her alters things, but they'd likely treat her differently if they thought she was like them.

While she is a tech geek, her joing the newspaper club as an excuse to follow her unending curiousity would not be too far off.

She probably has her footage of the haunted house in incident in file... For either playful blackmail or a way to tease her sister later.

While Evelyn probably did build the AMP system on her own, there hasn't been the motivation to work on it further... Although if she did, it's likely because Serafall Leviathan found out.

To be fair, an AMP user while on active duty might as well be a different person sharing the same soul... So I'm not sure how they'd handle that with Rating Games. I'd suppose they'd have to register both forms to qualify.

Souls salvaged through reclamation are classified as familiars, not peerage members... Unless reincarnated. Mostly since the reclaimed's entire existence depends on the reclaimer, who owns their sorry behind.

If Evelyn salvaged Raynare... If they met prior and it isn't just an experiment... The discussion is going to be very awkward.

Sort of a "Oh, I'm not saving you exactly, more like you are under new management." Situation...

I'll have to sort myself out further... And these are just dabbling rambles.

[inspiredlovers]

Kyrie Irving hints that he regrets not having been...

Kyrie Irving hints that he regrets not having been... Kyrie Irving kept the NBA and practically the world in suspense last year with his decision to get vaccinated against Covid-19, which caused him to not be able to play until January and miss more than half of the regular season games -he only played 29 games- , due to current vaccination mandates, especially the one in New York, which prevented him from playing home games. The controversial point guard hinted in an interview with ESPN that he might regret not having been immunized.  "Do I have any regrets looking back at the past year? I would be lying to you as a human if I said no. I think we all think about the times we could have made better decisions , and the times we wish we had done things differently and been better." I feel the same way sometimes throughout my life... I legitimately just want to play and not put too much pressure on myself or the people around me. Let's let the season pass and then we'll go back to reflect and talk about these things in more detail, but right now that can't be my focus," Irving said in a conversation with Nick Friedell.  Irving, who will be a free agent in the summer, had the possibility of renewing for four years and 100 million The 30-year-old point guard, whose contract ends in June, revealed on the Nets' Media Day that he could have signed a four-year, $100 million extension, something he ultimately did not do. Asked about it, Kyrie Irving replied, although his answer was not entirely convincing:  "I stay patient, I just want to be in the present, remove distractions, have fun with this profession. I'm only as good as my team and the people around me. And they keep me very grounded and balanced in terms of what my goals are ." , what our goals are, and we focus on them. I can't control what people think of me, everything I'm doing is putting myself in a position to lead and be an example. And I have high aspirations to leave a legacy in this league and how many years it takes me," answered Irving, who is looking for his second ring with the Nets after the one he wore in 2016 in the Cavaliers with LeBron.  Kyrie Irving hints that he regrets not having been... The foreigner born in Melbourne shares a country of origin -Australia-, with his new partner, Ben Simmons, another controversial base with whom he has discussed the noise they generate on social networks and that Irving takes with philosophy. "It's an emotional time in the world. People attack other people for what they believe, for their jobs, whatever. So criticism is part of it, but what's justified is how you respond. It's the moment when you wake up and realize that this is not actually your life, that you have a loving and support system of people who take care of you, and that I have to give honest answers to," Irving reflected.  READ MORE: Shaquille O’Neal says Lashes Out Hard At Kyrie Irving How do I as a group leader make Simmons feel supported? I think one of our strengths as a human community is humanizing our lives with each other. He's a human who's going to respond in his own way. And he's going to to deal with things his way and we have to respect that. That's what people with integrity do. Not everyone lives by those moral principles so yes, as a leader, I feel like it's my responsibility to protect him, but I also have to understand that he has to do things his way. And when he helps, I'm just there for him," the point guard explained about his relationship with Simmons.  "I will never retire, do you hear me?" Irving surprised when asked how much longer he wants to compete. "I'm never going to stop playing. Do you hear me? Get that, I'm never going to stop playing. This is not a debate. This is not a consideration," Kyrie snapped. However, admitting that he will not be able to stay at this level all his life, he then qualified his answer, implying that he would like to be a coach.  "I want to be a bridge, show people what it's like to play at this level, teach youth... what it's like to reach this level, to be a professional. I was already a professional at 9 years old, because I did more than going to school, spending time with my friends, with my family, I did it day and night. It was a passion, but I also chose it," said Irving, his feeling as intense as basketball as the varied amalgamation of feelings that awakens in others the always peculiar base.  Read the full article

[robininthelabyrinth]

Spilled Pearls

- Chapter 29 - ao3 -

“In the future, you should send your children to the Cloud Recesses for me to teach,” Lan Qiren said. He was sitting with Wen Ruohan on one of the rooftop gardens in the Nightless City, watching the moon and stars from a pavilion placed there for that purpose; their bodies were pressed close together, and it felt as if they were far away from all the things that were familiar. “You and Lao Nie both, and naturally I’ll come visit with you often as well, bringing my nephew. Between the three of us, we might even be able to teach them how to be proper human beings.”

Wen Ruohan laughed in his ear and pressed his lips to his cheek – he had taken to kissing him at random, spontaneous, as if still overwhelmed by the fact that he now had the right to do it.

“I will,” he promised. “I agree, I think they’ll turn out better that way…you would really have me educate your precious little A-Huan?”

“If I’m willing to entrust myself with you, why not him? Anyway, I can teach him music, and with the aid of the other teachers in my sect the sword in the Lan sect style, but you can teach him much more than that. You know how to look at the world and see it for what it is, and then bend it to your will, make it sing to your tune. He’ll be sect leader in the future; he needs to learn that, and you can teach it to him.”

“I can, and I will,” Wen Ruohan said, then thought for a moment and asked, “What does Lao Nie bring to the table?”

“Flexibility, mostly.”

Wen Ruohan barked out a laugh. “He certainly has that.”

He didn’t even sound bitter about it any more.

Lan Qiren smiled.

“In the meantime, I will handle the rest of it,” Wen Ruohan added, and Lan Qiren looked at him in silent question. “Come now, Qiren. Did you really think that I would allow you to remain caged in the Cloud Recesses your whole life?”

Lan Qiren paused. That was the sorest part of his heart, his most painful misery, but he didn’t think Wen Ruohan would bring it up casually. If anything, he was a bit more afraid of what Wen Ruohan might get into his head to do about it – there was very little Wen Ruohan wouldn’t dare.

“Da-ge –” he started warily.

“No, no,” Wen Ruohan said, lightly scolding. “Little Lan, be serious! I already rejected the opportunity to cage you here at the Nightless City, playing only for me, despite how much I longed to do so. I refused to do it – me, refusing myself – because I knew it would only make you sad. Do you really think I would allow other people a privilege that I have denied myself?”

Lan Qiren did not laugh, but he dearly wanted to. It might be the first time he’d ever wanted to laugh about his situation – not even Cangse Sanren had managed that. “Has anyone told you that you are extremely self-absorbed?” he asked instead. “Arrogance is forbidden. Do not be haughty and complacent.”

Wen Ruohan smirked back at him. “All true, little Lan, but don’t forget your favorite: Do not tell lies.”

Self-absorbed, narcissistic and arrogant, Lan Qiren concluded, and there was no helping it. It was clearly a terminal case.

He used his sleeve to hide his laughter.

“What are you planning, exactly?” he asked once he had recovered. “If you harm my sect, whether directly or indirectly by denying them my services, I would be even more upset than if you tried to lock me away in here.”

Wen Ruohan waved a hand dismissively. “Do you think me so incapable? I have already begun making arrangements. Discussion conferences may only be once or twice a year, being as they are tremendously irritating to arrange, but there’s no reason that we of the Great Sects should not recognize our greater duty towards the smaller sects, and not to mention our obligations to protect the mortal world –”

“You know that it exists, then?”

Wen Ruohan ignored him. “The resources of cultivation clans are limited, and the world large. There are many places which would benefit from aid that do not see any simply because they are far away or tucked in inconvenient places, and no sect lives nearby – naturally, it is our duty to fight evil no matter where it is encountered. Lao Nie has already agreed that it is critical that the sect leaders demonstrate our sincerity by fulfilling this duty in person, leading by example.”

Lan Qiren’s heart had already felt as if it were overflowing with warmth, and it felt even more so now, almost squeezed to pain by how much joy was there. More than he had known he could contain.

Bad luck in brothers, he thought to himself - but oh, he had such good luck in friends!

“I see,” he said, thankful that his usual neutral tone concealed how happy he felt. “And naturally, where you and Lao Nie go, Sect Leader Jin cannot be far behind in his eagerness not to lose out, and where three of the five Great Sects lead, naturally the rest cannot be far behind. So I, too, will be obligated to...what? Go out on night-hunts in inconvenient places?”

“The world is too large, and the number of cultivators too few – and at any rate, there’s no point in setting up a full night-hunt which draws in every person from a thousand li for a few paltry fierce corpses or a ghost or two. I propose, instead, that we would send cultivators out alone, in pairs or in small groups, to wander for a few months through the remote places in the world and clean them up. Then, at the next discussion conference, the Great Sects could jointly agree that whoever was most enterprising would receive a reward, and naturally, stories of various exploits could be exchanged – ”

“Ah. Another reason for young men and women to gather and boast of improbable exploits.”

“Think of it as giving them more opportunities to win glory,” Wen Ruohan said. “And stop talking down about ‘young men’; you are a young man. Naturally you are also qualified to go out to do such things. Required, even: if our Great Sects do not set a proper example, who will?”

“Mm. A proper example. Even if I coincidentally happen to spend more time playing music than hunting demons?”

Wen Ruohan’s eyes were bright. “Even so. And naturally, you could always bring along someone more powerful to do the demon-hunting for you…”

“How convenient.”

Wen Ruohan smirked. “Do you doubt that I will be able to make it happen, little Lan?”

“No,” Lan Qiren said, then added, honestly: “I think you could take over the world if you wished.”

“Naturally! But it would be quite irritating, I think, if I had to also ensure that both you and Lao Nie did not disapprove of my methods…” He paused, lips twitching. “By coincidence, while we’re discussing convenience, I was thinking that it would be dangerous to send all those wild and reckless young men out there without proper support. Surely it would be only reasonable to set up a few convenient places here and there, not so far away, to provide them with supplies and a place to rest and recover –”

Convenient places that would fly the Wen sect’s flag and spread its influence, Lan Qiren presumed. Lanling Jin would be furious – using wealth to buy influence was their favorite technique, and they resented other people copying it – and would immediately insist on establishing their own set of “supply stations”, and then the rest of them would have to catch up and make their own. Yet another expense, and the Great Sects would need to do more than most; it would probably wreck havoc with the Lan sect’s annual budget.

On the other hand, well the remote parts of the world really did need the help. One of the Lan sect’s newly recruited guest disciples had been talking about a place not far from his hometown that specialized in making coffin goods; it was, according to him, the most inauspicious place that could possibly be imagined…

Not a place anyone might want to go, unless they truly were intent on traveling.

Lan Qiren smiled once again. He thought he might never stop smiling.

“Indeed,” he said, trying to sound dry and rational. “Very coincidental. No one will doubt that this is nothing but a scheme to expand your reach and power, rather than any personal motive.”

Wen Ruohan did not answer, but instead, matching a smile of his own to Lan Qiren’s, pressed his lips against Lan Qiren’s once more.

After a little while of silence, Lan Qiren cleared his throat and asked, “Do you intend to tell people?”

He was not referring to Wen Ruohan’s plans for the future.

Wen Ruohan understood.

“In time,” he said. “As much as I would love to shout that you are mine and I am yours from the rooftops and perhaps have bulletins be posted to every town -”

Lan Qiren grimaced. It would be one thing if he thought Wen Ruohan was exaggerating for romantic effect, but unfortunately it would be just like him to engage in that level of over-the-top grandstanding.

“– but your position is not yet certain, and my reputation is too questionable. People would make assumptions and spread malicious gossip, and I – I would not harm you to please myself.”

“Sweet-talker.”

“It’s not sweet-talking when it’s true,” Wen Ruohan protested, although he was chuckling. “When you are more renowned as a teacher than a sect leader, when little A-Huan is old enough to have passed the worst stretches of childhood – then we will announce it, and let the rest of the world choke on it if they like. You, me, Lao Nie…hmm. Jin Guangshan will probably think we’re concealing a conspiracy and ask to join in.”

Lan Qiren gagged. “I refuse,” he said. “I don’t care if I’m not physically involved, neither you nor Lao Nie are allowed to even think about it. That man has visited so many prostitutes that one might be forgiven for thinking he believes that the road to immortality is paved with venereal disease.”

“…thank you, that was an image I did not require.” A pause. “Jiang Fengmian –”

“Remember when he punched me in the face in a fight over a girl I didn’t even want?”

“It wasn’t a serious suggestion.” Wen Ruohan chuckled once more and pressed another kiss to his cheek. “Some years ago now, I swore to your Cangse Sanren that I would do right by you. I ought to invite her here and show her that I’ve made good on it.”

“You haven’t made good on it.”

“I haven’t?”

“No. Such a promise is fulfilled through the keeping – if you want to do right by me, there is no one singular moment that would qualify, but rather a continuing obligation.” Lan Qiren smiled up at him. “I’m sorry, da-ge. You’ll have to continue to do right by me for the rest of our lives.”

“I will,” Wen Ruohan said, and smiled back. “It would be my pleasure.”

-END-