#anyway. I am very aware there are ways to mitigate this. I will go back to applying appropriate coping mechanisms in just a minute.

[neuxue]

The one and only downside to having been fortunate enough to take an extended amount of time off of work a while back is that now I know that simply not having to work for a living would fix like 99% of my problems. And I just have to carry that knowledge with me every day. Into work.

[rimouskis]

okay I've decided against pursuing any sort of diagnosis re: my growing suspicions I have ADHD/something of that ilk for a variety of reasons, but it will NEVER stop galling me how I lack object permanence. like a baby. I need to have clear storage containers because if I cannot see something I forget it exists. it's both a relief to know that there is a potential "explanation" for such behavior but also realizing that most other people can do convenient things (like: remembering the existence of stuff) is also FRUSTRATINGGGG because I wish that was me! imagine being able to remember things not only casually but well! imagine that! god!

[genderqueerdykes]

is it bad to be scared to start hrt?

i feel a little ashamed that i am. i try my hardest to be positive about all the things that make men & mascs masculine. i try to appreciate the parts that arent valued by society, like male pattern baldness, being fat, hairiness (love that part especially lol), etc.

but im 15, and i go back and fourth over whether or not i want to start testosterone. i had terrible cystic acne before i started acne medication, i have male pattern baldness on my dads side etc. im not a binary trans guy, so i kinda doubt ill be on it forever anyway if i DO wind up doing it, but its really scary to be told all the stuff that WILL make me a man when im… just a boy. that feels infantalizing but i suppose its true. im scared to be a man admittedly, im angry i never got to have a “true” boyhood because in currently at that age, and im scared of being thrust into it after not getting to be one. theres so much stuff about becoming “ugly” after starting testosterone. i know thats not true, logically, but ive faced so much bullying for not being pretty enough as an afab that i guess i still have that vanity embedded within me.

i feel ashamed for it, do you have any advice?

no, absolutely not- i think it's super reasonable to be scared to start HRT. it's a huge change, it affects your body and mentality in many different ways. it's a lot to take on at once especially considering there are permanent effects if taken for long enough at a high enough dose

i get why you'd be worried at that age. i didn't start HRT until i was in my early 20s. i think its okay to give yourself some time, especially considering you have some concerns about it potentially affecting your health. it would be ideal to find a way to get your blood tested for a few things- liver enzymes, red blood cell count, estrogen and testosterone levels, and so on. if you can't do that, it's understandable. i know it's not easy for someone your age to get a ride to a place like that discretely

is it possible to contact your dermatologist about your acne and see if they would be able to weigh in on that? baldness is a tricky thing. some people do bald but really late in life. some people don't. a lot of transmascs have their hairline recede by a few inches and then it usually stops. the nice thing about hair loss is there are medications that work very well that can help mitigate that. gender affirming care specialists or other doctors who prescribe testosterone are usually aware of the effects on scalp hair, and usually they'll help you test for high blood pressure, any issues like that

honestly i get where you're coming from here. i've seen this way too many times. people get pissed off about someone being a type of trans they don't like so they just bully the person until they consider detransitioning or never start transition at all, and then continue to mock and harass them anyway. i see this all the damn time and it bugs me like why would you do that to someone. who cares

people think it's ok to bully trans men & mascs right now because of all of the transandrophobia and antimasculism in general. testosterone doesn't make anyone "ugly", people are projecting their hatred of men and mascs on to a hormone that almost everyone produces naturally. it's just hateful senseless bullying. people think the younger the trans man/boy/masc is, the more valid they are to bully them.

it's okay to identify as a boy for as long as you need. you actually never have any obligation to adopt the label man if it doesn't fit you. many people identify as boys instead of men. some people are guys and not men. it's okay some people find they have to take their time to transition from boy to man. you're only 15 you are still a child, you don't have to worry about being a man for quite a while

it's definitely okay to feel conflicted and confused here. if you're able to, take time to yourself where you shut all that noise from other people out. if you're able to just ask yourself a few questions like why do i identify as a boy, what about it makes me happy, what kinds of things do i want to do in transition. just try to get a feel for what's going on so it makes it hard for people to get in your head

remember that when people attack you like this they're projecting something they deeply hate about themselves on to you. my therapist told me that last week and i thought i would just relay that. it's alright to be affected by it, but they really are just being assholes. it's good to be a trans man/boy/masc. transmasculinity is good. testosterone is good. testosterone saved my life. i'm glad to get up in the morning every day because i at least look and sound like myself. i love my body. i love the way i look. i'm stronger. i stand taller. my face is the right shape. my voice sounds right.

life is good

i hope you found any of this helpful. good luck, it's okay to feel guilt or shame for a bit. i did NOT want to come out as FtM for a VERY long time it was hard. i get it. take care of yourself, let me know if you have any more questions

[fincalinde]

☕ Nie Mingjue appreciated Meng Yao's competence, but even when their relationship was good, it was never a personal relationships

In a shocking turn of events, I agree with you. And though my response is monstrously late (over a year?), I have taken the time to go through their relationship from start to finish to back us both up. I wouldn't consider this comprehensive, but it's an overview that makes a reasonable starting point and if anyone wants me to write an entire thesis they'll need to pay me.

Stage I

NMJ notices JGY's competence as the lowliest of recruits tasked with cleaning up the battlefield. I actually think this is a great moment because we really see that at this stage of the war NMJ is still capable of recognising his own worst impulses and mitigating them somewhat, as he does when he terrifies the commoner woman and her child. Anyway, the first thing he appreciates about JGY is unequivocally his competence.

Then NMJ overhears the cruel cave gossip. Because he already has his eye on JGY and because he's outraged by the behaviour of his cultivators, he elevates JGY on the spot. His intentions are very good here because he wants to reward JGY's performance and teach the other cultivators a lesson. But the trouble is that JGY's promotion is then explicitly tied to their own humiliation in the mind of those cultivators. So poor JGY is off to a bad start, and the text notes that he is painfully aware of this while NMJ is oblivious. This scene is unequivocally an interaction between a social superior and a subordinate.

Despite the lack of finesse in the execution, JGY is deeply grateful and reiterates his awareness of his debt to NMJ more than once thereafter. But chronologically the next time we see JGY and NMJ interact is when LXC arrives at Hejian. We're told that due to the war the boundaries between duties are somewhat blurred and thus even though JGY is NMJ's deputy he serves the tea. That's also consistent with JGY's pattern of making himself indispensible to those around him. Nothing in this scene indicates anything other than the relationship between a clan leader and a trusted and competent subordinate. I won't get into the teacups moment because NMJ is just generally oblivious to the trials those around him must endure, and I don't think it's specific to JGY even if JGY is most severely affected. (Then again, if NMJ did notice he would probably mishandle it a la the cave incident.)

Next is NMJ eavesdropping on Xiyao and interrupting them. As is typical of him at this point, his intentions are good. And, helpfully, he explains his own motives. He doesn't say anything about friendship. He says that JGY's conduct/character is to his liking. In other words, he doesn't like JGY so much as he approves of him. This is very much the attitude of a superior to their subordinate. And JGY responds with the appropriate respect and gratitude of a subordinate, too. The fact that the three of them then sit and converse pleasantly is in large part due to the presence of LXC, who is friends with both and is bridging the gap. And I am sure that NMJ and JGY have had pleasant conversations without LXC around, but to me it seems clear their relationship is very firmly situated in their respective roles.

Stage II

NMJ comes across JGY killing the Jin commander at Langya in a way that makes it clear he is intending to frame the Wen for it. NMJ is enraged. He listens to JGY's explanation but doesn't consider it sufficient, and very much acts as though he still has a right to command JGY. I actually think it's fair enough that if anyone sees someone ostensibly committing a murder it's pretty natural to tell them to turn themselves in, and even in this particularly violent and dangerous society JGY's actions are towards the extreme end (though hardly unique!). But NMJ doesn't listen to JGY pointing out that his life with the Jin is intolerable and his father will be glad to have an excuse to dispose of him if he turns himself in.

This is not a conversation between two friends misunderstanding each other. This is a former subordinate pleading with his former master who still holds very real power over him. NMJ's disappointment in JGY is described very much in terms of being angry and it's reasonable to read this as being hurt (in his own way) that someone he approved of doesn't meet his personal standards after all. I could spend a long time unpicking this scene because I have thoughts and a half on it, but I'll just note again that this entire incident is firmly situated in superior/subordinate territory, particularly in regard to NMJ's feelings about JGY not acting like a proper subordinate.

After this incident we are again told very clearly exactly how NMJ feels about the matter (EXR, Ch. 48):

Nie Mingjue was never close to people. He rarely opened up to anyone. Though he finally managed to obtain a competent, trustworthy subordinate, whose character and capabilities he approved, he found that the subordinate's true colors were nothing like what he had thought they were. It was only natural that his reaction was so extreme.

Subordinate. Subordinate, subordinate, subordinate. Yes NMJ has been close to JGY and opened up to him, as one must by necessity open up to a trusted aide. But he thinks of JGY as a subordinate and yet again we have that key word: approve. He doesn't like JGY. He approves of him. And once that approval is gone, an even deeper and more implacable disapproval takes its place.

We aren't directly told JGY's feelings on the matter but I think those can be summed up with one observation: he saves NMJ's life in Qishan. And he knows NMJ. He knows it would be of vast personal benefit to himself to let NMJ die. But JGY remembers when he owes people, and he owes NMJ big time for giving him that chance originally. Again, remember that JGY always frames his gratitude towards NMJ as a subordinate who was given a chance by a superior. There is never any mention that this develops into a friendship.

Stage III

NMJ doesn't kill JGY in Qishan partly because LXC intervenes and partly because he decides to give JGY another chance to prove himself. Let me harp on this again: he grants JGY a reprieve as a superior giving a wayward subordinate another chance, and JGY throws himself on NMJ's mercy in a similar vein. This is JGY—if there had been a former friendship to invoke in an attempt to save his own life, he would certainly have done so.

This is all consistent with NMJ's reason for entering into the sworn brotherhood. He wants to be able to tell JGY what to do, and because by the rules of their society he can no longer do that as a superior, he is trying to game his way in via becoming JGY's elder brother. Of course NMJ consistently fails to accept that actually by all the conventions of their society JGY is accountable to JGS and not to him, but the point is not reality. The point is his motive. NMJ isn't looking to recapture a friendship or keep a former friend accountable, because JGY was never his friend. Yes, JGY is now his brother. But he doesn't treat JGY as his brother; the brotherhood is just the means by which he can treat JGY as a subordinate again. And JGY is trying to balance this as best he can, but the difference between his ongoing fear of NMJ and his affection for LXC is stark.

Stage IV

I'm going to touch on the stair kick and Cleansing/Turmoil mostly in order to emphasise that this is not a disintegrating friendship. JGY is once again appealing to NMJ as a subordinate in an impossible position, and NMJ is continuing to bull in a china shop his way through the conversation by refusing to take JGY's difficult situation into account and making things even worse by trying to directly countermand orders JGY has had from his own father. NMJ says the worst thing anyone could ever say to JGY when he both denigrates his mother and proves definitively that his claims to only care about JGY's actions not his background were just hypocrisy. And what is it that pushes NMJ over the edge so that he says what he really thinks?

It's the fact that JGY asserts himself as NMJ's equal.

Yes NMJ points out the terrible things JGY has done. But when all is said and done, when he kicks JGY down the stairs he doesn't bring up JGY's actions. He brings up his parentage.

Because NMJ does think he is better than JGY, not just through his actions but due to his birth. And JGY fundamentally does not agree with that. This is the point at which JGY accepts that he's going to have to do as his father wants and kill NMJ, and the point at which I think he loses all hope of ever regaining NMJ's approval. Not only does JGY no longer need NMJ's approval, but NMJ has violated the terms of the oath they swore to form their brotherhood and he has negated the debt JGY owes him from when he was first elevated.

The last time we see NMJ and JGY in the same place while they're both alive, NMJ is once again eavesdropping (very honourable, Chifeng-zun). I do think it's telling that NMJ is so deeply outraged that JGY is having actually a fairly mild vent at LXC (an LXC who is gently pushing back on said venting in point of fact); once again, NMJ does not think that JGY has a right to be dissatisfied with his lot or to express his unhappiness with the situation in private. If he were actually paying attention it would be very clear that LXC is not nodding along and being brainwashed, but is trying to encourage JGY to be optimistic and keep trying. 

I don't think there's a real need to dig too much into this because these are NMJ's last moments and at this point he's so consumed by the sabre spirit that he's ruled by all his worst impulses. Though he could sometimes do so in the past, he is now no longer able to rein in his worst impulses: the listening in on others, the snap judgements and hypocritical moral inflexibility, the hair-trigger temper. It's just the final, hyperviolent expression of his groundless belief he is the final authority over JGY.

Stage V

I'll keep this one short and sweet. Yes NMJ's body breaks out of its tomb, and in hunting down JGY he forces JGY to resort to dismemberment in order to survive. I could be whimsical and say that even in death NMJ thinks JGY is accountable to him! But again, all this fits the pattern of NMJ as the entitled former superior and JGY as the subordinate refusing to stay in the role he has been allocated. There were absolutely warm feelings of a kind between them once: NMJ approved of JGY and JGY was grateful to NMJ. But even when it was at its best, I would not call their relationship a friendship.

(Nor, for the record, a romance.)

[makeste]

“but I thought about how I needed to say this”

a.k.a. yet another meta dissection of The Apology. I actually wrote most of this up on Friday night based on the original Japanese (@pikahlua​ has an excellent translation up here, and I also used @hanashimas’ translations as a reference as well), but I wanted to wait until the official release, though that turned out to be a mixed bag to say the least lol.

I would also recommend reading @pikahlua​ and @class1akids​’ breakdowns of this scene (here and here, respectively), because they are excellent, and because if any scene deserves to have as many meta breakdowns written about it as possible, it’s this one.

anyway so here goes.

Caleb did a more accurate job with this than the fanscan, even if he did try his best to take us out of the seriousness of the moment by throwing in that swiss cheese line lol. anyway so there are two things I want to talk about here. the first is the line about Izuku not remembering, which I thought was a nice touch. of course he doesn’t remember what Kacchan said back then. he wasn’t exactly in the soundest emotional state after seeing one of the people he cares about most taking a near-fatal blow that was meant for him. I’d be shocked if he remembers anything about the aftermath (including the way he flew into a mindless rage afterwards) right up until the point when he entered the OFA Interstellar Party Void with Tomura. anyway, so I thought that was a nice callback.

and speaking of emotional states, the other thing I wanted to talk about is the part that Caleb got right which the fan scanlation didn’t. “but I had more to say.” in other words, “stop trying to win on your own” wasn’t just a one-liner; it was meant to be the beginning of a much longer speech. “there were other things that I needed to say.”

like, can we just stop and talk about that for a second. because basically what this means is that in that instant, when Kacchan pushed Deku out of the way and got impaled, his one and only thought was that he needed to apologize to Deku. his life was presumably flashing before his eyes, he had no idea if he was going to survive or not, and the only thing on his mind was how urgently he needed to make things right with his former childhood friend.

moving on!

so I have a confession to make, which is that I am relieved to see Katsuki describing this as the reason why he bullied Deku, as opposed to Horikoshi trying to retcon it into some sort of “secretly he was just trying to protect him and keep him out of harm’s way because he was worried” thing, which ngl would not have gelled very well with me. the thing is that I’m really not a fan of the whole “Kacchan Did Nothing Wrong” mentality that some fans seem to have. like, I have seen all sorts of convoluted attempts to find excuses for Katsuki’s shitty behavior, but in my view those attempts undermine what I love about his character in the first place. Katsuki is such a great character specifically because he is not perfect. his redemption arc is so compelling because he was such a giant asshole at the start. he was completely at fault, and he acknowledges this, and takes full responsibility for it. and that is fucking fantastic.

his arc is so great because it doesn’t rely on garnering sympathy by giving him a Tragic Past, or by trying to foist the blame for his behavior over on someone else. it’s an arc that acknowledges that redemption isn’t something you achieve by making people feel sorry for you; it’s something you have to earn by actively working to change and do better. and by forgoing the “misunderstood/tragic past” route, Horikoshi is making a statement that anyone can go down the wrong path, but that more importantly, anyone can also choose at any time to turn away from said path. there is only one requirement for doing so, and that is realizing that you’ve done wrong, and deciding that you want to change.

anyway, so in chapter 284 Kacchan of course had that whole speech about Deku not taking himself into account, and mentioned how that made him want to keep his distance. and a good chunk of fandom took this to mean that Katsuki’s bullying was actually a misguided response to Deku’s reckless tendencies -- sort of an “if I show him how weak and powerless he really is, I can get him to accept the reality that he’s quirkless, and that being a hero will just get him hurt or killed” type of thing. and I won’t lie, for a good while I was wondering myself if Horikoshi was really going to go down that route. and like I said, I am honestly relieved that he didn’t. not only for the reasons stated in the previous paragraph, but also because the message that would have sent -- that there are certain circumstances in which bullying can almost be excused because the bully had Good Intentions and was just trying to save the other person from themselves, and so it Wasn’t That Bad, Actually -- is all kinds of fucked up to say the least. so yeah, I’m glad we ended up steering well clear of that.

(ETA: this post was long enough already so I edited out the 3 additional paragraphs I originally wrote analyzing the dialogue from 284. but just to be clear, I’m not trying to imply that Kacchan worrying about Deku’s recklessness is a retconned thing that Horikoshi only threw into the story recently, because there are multiple instances throughout the story where he clearly is worried and in total denial of it. but I firmly believe those feelings are not what led to the bullying. they’re two separate things. Kacchan worrying about Deku is what prompts him to yell at him in chapter 1 when Deku comes to save him. but it’s not what incited him to burn his notebook and taunt him earlier in that same chapter. that action had a much meaner and more selfish motivation behind it, and I’m glad Horikoshi didn’t try to change it up last minute, because it wouldn’t have felt right.)

thankfully as of this chapter I think we can safely cross that out as a possibility, as we’re given the true explanation straight from Katsuki himself. and the truth is that he bullied Deku out of insecurity and jealousy and fear and intolerance. there was nothing noble about it. there were no good intentions concealed in his actions. there are no justifications given, no excuses offered, and no mitigating circumstances to be considered, other than the fact (which neither he nor Horikoshi bring up) that he was and is still a child, and that children make mistakes.

it’s an explanation that challenges many of fandom’s ideas on who is and isn’t eligible to be redeemed. there is no Ozai in Katsuki’s backstory. there’s no great tragedy that he spent a lifetime trying to rise above. the only villain in Katsuki’s story is Katsuki himself. the only darkness that he has to overcome is his own. and it’s challenging, because I think many people believe the only way someone can be redeemed for doing bad things is if bad things happen to them in return. but what Horikoshi is saying here is that that’s not the case. bad doesn’t erase bad. and the one and only way to truly earn redemption is by doing good.

and that’s what makes this such a phenomenal scene for me. by not shying away from Katsuki’s flaws and failings, and having him take full responsibility for them, Horikoshi keeps the apology from being self-serving, and underscores the true depth of Katsuki’s character development. the level of self-awareness he has here is something most people can only dream of. which is very fitting, as that’s perhaps the most important takeaway from his character arc -- that it’s only by acknowledging your own weaknesses and flaws that you can learn to overcome them and reach your full potential.

one last thing to point out here, which is that in the panel where Katsuki finally acknowledges his terrible treatment of Deku, Deku is not even visible. instead, Horikoshi drew the panel from a perspective that makes it appear that Katsuki is addressing this particular line not just to Deku, but to all of his classmates.

again, he shows him taking full responsibility and admitting his wrongdoings in front of the people whose opinions and approval he cares about most. and just to clarify in case there’s any confusion from Caleb’s translation, Kacchan’s wording makes it very clear that he wasn’t just “mean” to Deku, but that he full-on bullied him (he uses the same verb -- “ijimeru” (苛める) -- that he did back in chapter 284). there’s no attempt to downplay his actions here.

moving on now, this chapter also reaffirmed another thing about Deku and Kacchan’s relationship which I was glad to see revisited -- Kacchan’s unwavering belief in Deku’s ability. this is one of those paradoxical things about their relationship which I’ve always been fascinated by, but which is also kind of hard to explain, because I don’t want it to come off like I’m trying to put a positive spin on something which was unequivocally awful. like, please don’t think I’m trying to say that Katsuki’s bullying of Deku was in any way a good thing. but that being said, there’s also a strange irony at play here, which is that Katsuki’s jealousy and insecurity also betray the fact that even at his very worst, he never once underestimated Deku. he has always believed in Deku’s strength, even when that strength pissed him off and made him afraid and uneasy.

no one else -- not All Might, or even Deku’s own mom -- believed from the get-go that Deku could become a hero. but Katsuki never once counted him out, even when he was calling him a pebble in his shoe. he confesses here that even though he “tried to act superior by rejecting [Deku]”, in truth he was never able to shake the feeling that Deku was above him. long before he ever understood the concept of “win to save”, he knew instinctively that there was a strength in Deku’s heart that couldn’t be measured, and which had the potential to surpass even his own strength. and I’ve always felt that this was so important, because it’s the one aspect of their early relationship that hinted that on some level, however subconscious, Katsuki held the same type of faith in Deku that Deku always held in him. it was one of the few things that hinted at there being a possible path towards reconciliation one day. and it paved the way for the most important shift in their relationship to date, when Katsuki finally realized who Deku got his quirk from, and responded not with resentment or spite, but with acceptance.

moving on, I also really love the way we see them portrayed at the different stages of their childhood throughout this speech, and how it perfectly lines up with the dialogue. from small children (when Katsuki talks about his insecurities first manifesting), to middle schoolers (when he talks about the bullying), to high schoolers (when he talks about the past year and everything he’s learned at U.A.). Horikoshi really didn’t have to go that hard, but he did, and that’s why we love him.

and then we finally get to That Part.

where do I even start with this there are so many things omg.

the bow. this is the one and only time Katsuki has ever bowed to anyone of his own volition as far as I recall. and this absolutely is a bow, just to be clear, even though his form is straight-up garbage (very Kacchan-esque, with his feet and arms spaced apart because he’s still a punk after all). this is Kacchan showing more humility and respect than he’s ever shown to anyone else in his entire life.

regarding “Izuku”, I actually have mixed feelings about this to tell the truth. I think it was a good call here because it was incredibly effective in setting the tone and showing just how serious Kacchan is. however if he continues to use “Izuku” rather than “Deku” from here on out, that would give the impression in hindsight that all his past usage of “Deku” really was meant as an insult, which would undermine some of my favorite scenes. I would really like to believe that since DvK2 or thereabouts, Kacchan has (mostly) been using “Deku (affectionate)” rather than “Deku (useless loser)”, lol. but if he switches to the “nicer” name on a permanent basis following his apology, it implies that the previous nickname was indeed being used cruelly. and so honestly I hope this was just a one-time thing, because I do think that in Katsuki’s mind, the name “Deku” hasn’t been meant as a slight to him for a long time now.

“my truth/this is what I truly feel” -- the word Katsuki uses in Japanese is honne (本音), and if you’re familiar with the concept of honne/tatemae, that’s the same “honne” he’s talking about here. it means that he’s casting aside all of his walls and facades and expressing what he truly feels. and of course, one of the fascinating things about Katsuki’s character is that he’s the exact opposite of most people in that he chooses to put his meanness on full display to the public, and ironically it’s the kindest parts of himself which he tends to keep the most carefully guarded and hidden away. this also means that while his rage and anger are very often insincere and put on just for show, those relatively few occasions where he lets his humanity truly shine through are pretty much 100% genuine, as is the case with this one here.

and Deku’s face says it all when it comes to how powerful those moments can be as a result.

and this, right here, is why it wasn’t enough for Katsuki to atone solely through his actions, and why he needed to actually say the words as well. it’s not that the words are more important; obviously the actions are far and away the most important part, and carry far more meaning. but the reason why Katsuki needed to say the words as well is simply because Izuku needed to hear them. needed to, and deserved to, because this is one of the most important people in the world to him.

and so he deserves to know that the relationship isn’t just one-sided, and that he is just as important to Kacchan as Kacchan is to him. he deserves to know that Kacchan understands how horribly he treated him, and that he’s sorry for it. and he deserves to know that Kacchan, without any expectation of it changing their relationship -- meaning that he will continue to feel this way regardless of what Izuku says or does from here on out -- cares about him. now more than ever, with AFO out there doing everything in his power to make Izuku feel as alone as possible, this is something that he really, really needed to hear.

so this part has some interesting wordplay which neither Caleb’s translation nor the fan scanlation was really able to get across. basically, in the Japanese version, when Katsuki talks about “those ideals”, Horikoshi uses the kanji for “ideal”, but pronounces it as “All Might.” obviously the meaning of this isn’t too hard to decipher, as we all know how much both boys admire All Might. to them, he absolutely is synonymous with the Ideal. so this is a way of showing that respect they both have towards him, even as Katsuki goes on to point out the one fatal flaw that All Might was never able to overcome.

and speaking of interesting wording, as others have noted, at this point in his speech Katsuki switches from “temee” (which he was using earlier during the “your strengths and my weaknesses” part) to “omae” (“omae” being a less insulting word for “you”, though still very manly and tough-sounding), which is definitely a big deal. though fwiw this is not the first time he’s used “omae” for Deku (he switches to it briefly right after DvK2, when he tells Deku “you had the strongest guy lay the groundwork for you -- don’t lose”, and then later when they’re walking back to the dorms and he says he’ll learn and get stronger by watching everyone around him just like Deku did). it’s definitely a good choice on Horikoshi’s part though, as it makes this last part of the speech sound more earnest and sincere.

just a quick note, he does indeed use a plural pronoun here, as in “the obstacles that you can’t overcome, we will overcome.” but as @pikahlua​ pointed out, the “we” here is ambiguous -- it could either mean “we” as in class 1-A -- “we will overcome them for you” -- OR it could mean “we” as in all of them -- class 1-A and Deku. “we will overcome them together.” idk about you, but I know which one gets my vote.

anyway, and so this is the line that finally wins Deku over and allows him to let go of his fears, however briefly. what I love about this is Kacchan’s utter conviction. one thing that Caleb’s translation doesn’t quite get across is Kacchan’s use of the word morenaku -- “without exception” -- when he talks about how they’re going to save everyone and win. it echoes that same sentiment he showed back during the Joint Training arc -- that it’s not a perfect victory unless they save everyone. every last person. and he explicitly lists Deku among their number, just so there can be no doubt.

and Deku’s response to this (or at least his thoughts, since he’s not really able to get many words out) pretty much brings everything full circle here.

he acknowledges that everyone else has gotten ahead of him. which is especially meaningful given who he’s standing directly across from. because for most of the series, as we all well know, it’s been Kacchan who was woefully lagging behind Deku in the character growth department. but now Deku himself is acknowledging that not only has Kacchan finally caught up at last, but that he and the others have surpassed him. which is only temporary, I should add, as I have zero doubt that Deku will catch up again soon. but the fact remains that just as Deku’s rapid increase in strength and skill left Kacchan scrambling to keep up earlier in the series, Kacchan’s extraordinary character development has now left Deku in that same position. as All Might once put it, “when he’s starting at level one, and you’re already at level 50, it’s only natural that you’ll be growing at different rates.”

and what’s so wonderful about this though is that the two of them are finally approaching that point where they’ve both caught up to each other and are finally starting to level out. Deku is a full-on badass, and Kacchan is out here talk-no-jutsuing with the best of them. the two of them have been chasing and chasing after each other this entire time, and now they’re finally just about ready to meet in the middle at long last, with each of them fully embodying both of those two crucial aspects -- win, and save.

just about. because Deku still needs some help catching up. but seeing as help has already been offered -- and accepted -- I can’t imagine it will be very long now, and I can’t wait to see him finally overcoming those fears and doubts with his friends by his side. it’s going to be such a powerful moment.

and last but not least,

or, as I prefer,

you had one job, Caleb. flkjsdlk.

but at least this provides a good opportunity to note that unlike the “we’ll help you handle it” line earlier in the speech, here the phrasing is left up to interpretation, as he doesn’t use a pronoun. so it could be “we know”, or, as the fan scanlation put it, “I know.” or it could be both. regardless, it’s good stuff.

anyway, and so Deku passes out, and in the process Horikoshi gives us one last parting metaphor, just in case anyone still thinks Kacchan is all talk because they haven’t been paying attention for the past 322 chapters (more likely than you think). once again, Katsuki’s actions speak louder than his words (even his nice words) ever could: he is literally there to catch Deku when he falls.

so that’s it! my sincere thanks to anyone who actually read through all of my endless ramblings about this scene which I have been waiting for since day one. props to Horikoshi for taking on an impossibly difficult task, and pulling it off with all of the emotion and care and nuance that I’ve come to expect from his writing. imo he delivered on every single level with the exception of the aftermath, which I don’t consider to have actually happened yet. Deku’s part of this is definitely a “to be continued.” but yeah, as far as Kacchan’s part goes, 10/10. so fucking proud of this kid.

[asha-mage]

WoT Musing: The Snot Nosed High Seat Brigade

One of the reasons I very much enjoy the Andoran Succession plot, while most of the fandom rather famously does not, is because I find basically every character in it to be engaging on their own terms, made emblematic by the Snot Nosed High Seat Brigade. Most people view them a collection of side show annoyances that take up plot by their existence, but I am so charmed by all of them, and beyond that, I find their purpose in the narrative both important and well executed: they show Elayne's ability to work with nobles of her own generation even when their frustrating, rather then allowing petty jealously and rivlaires to guide her the way so many other rulers due, not to mention to show much she's matured since she's not that much older then any of them, and wasn't that different not to long ago.

But beyond that their all just such good characters:

Cause you have Extremely Fifteen Lady Catalyn Havein who frustrated her uncle so much that he gave up on being her regent and just turned her loose on the world. She is trying So Hard to be an adult in all the wrong ways, and is an excellent a reflection of Elayne's own fears about coming to power too young, about not being enough of a woman to measure up, not to mention a foil to Elayne's pride, as Catalyn's is motivated by her insecurity, while increasingly Elayne's is motivated by her belief in her own self worth.

Then you have Conail Northan, the Barely A Man, also trying to act like an adult in all the wrong ways, disguising his fears and annexities under blustering and confidence, trying to put on a strong face so as to set a good example for the others, who are not that much younger then him, and not realizing that while he's doing that Perival is the one actually leading and reassuring the Snot Nosed High Seat Brigade. He is living proof that sometimes being a lil dumb and a lot well meaning is enough.

Followed by Branlet Gilyard, who is Literally Just Baby, and yet so aware of and also over his family's shit that he basically runs away to join Team Elayne in order to get them to stop infighting, knowing full well that none of his idiot relatives will ever admit that they weren't consulted ahead of time, and so will commit to Elayne's cause full heartedly. Just wants to go back to playing in his backyard, but his adoptive mother's death makes that impossible, so darn it he is going to try and be a good High Seat.

And finally Perival Mantear, one of those characters whose implied backstory is real buck wild if stop to think about it. Fourteen and already more wise and mature then some of the main cast, keenly aware that his house loss's of the throne nearly destroyed it, and plunged Andor into civil war, working his hardest to prevent that fate from repeating, and to mitigate the damage done by Arymilla and her crowd, despite being only a year older then Branlet. Shows sparks of understanding and insight that surprise even Elayne, and also lacks his obvious desire for his childhood back, or maybe is aware that he was never going to get it, and has already moved on. Also Rand and Galad's cousin, not that's ever really brought up.

Anyways, I would watch whole sitcom about these kids + Elayne's adventures in government post Tamon Gai'don, and also a whole YA novel about Perival discovering he can channel, and becoming part the first generation of Asha'man.

[gh0st-patr0l]

ADHD in DSMP

So about a week back, I made a post about Karl Jacobs (a bit of a passive aggressive one, I’ll admit, but I think it was justified), complaining that a lot of the ‘criticism’ I see about Karl is actually rather insensitive towards his ADHD. I got a lot of responses to that post, and the most common sources of confusion I saw were:

People not understanding what I was saying they should avoid being judgmental of, or-

People who didn’t know that Karl had ADHD or didn’t understand which behaviors were caused by it.

First of all, Karl has confirmed that he has ADHD.

(NOTE: Yes, I know he said ADD. ADD and ADHD used to be categorized as separate disorders, but in the most recent edition of the DSM, it was decided that they are both simply subtypes of the same disorder- ADHD is the correct technical term. ADD is still sometimes used as shorthand by some practitioners to diagnose primarily-inattentive ADHD, but it's a bit outdated.)

Secondly, that original post made me realize that a lot of people who may be well-meaning may genuinely not fully understand ADHD and its symptoms as well as they want to or think they might. If you aren’t aware, Karl isn’t the only one in the DSMP with ADHD- to my understanding, both Technoblade and Dream have confirmed that they have it as well. So, I thought it would be helpful to put together a comprehensive crash-course on ADHD symptoms and how they effect people’s behavior!

Now, before we go further, I want to address something- as I said earlier, I saw some people unsure of whether certain behaviors are ADHD or “just his personality”. I feel the need to point this out above the read more so people will see it. To answer this question, as someone with ADHD;

A lot of times, it’s both. ADHD is a neurodevelopmental disorder, meaning that it’s caused by the way your brain developed from birth. A lot of the symptoms and effects of ADHD are extremely influential towards the way we think, act, and behave, to the point where “symptoms” and “normal behavior” really don’t have a clean differentiation. This is why it’s technically classified as a ‘disorder’, instead of an illness. While certain aspects of it can require treatment, the condition itself as a whole is not something to be mitigated or eliminated- it’s a part of who we are as a person. This is also why sometimes, even if you don’t have ADHD, you’ll look at certain specific behaviors or experiences and go “Oh, but I do that too!”. A lot of ADHD ‘symptoms’ are just a bunch of normal traits or behaviors, but in combination with each other and some actually problematic aspects, form the appearance of the disorder.

So, what are you allowed to nitpick about it? Well, there’s no real ‘authority’ on this, and even if there was it certainly wouldn’t be me. But if you want my opinion? Nothing.

See, here’s the thing- what I was trying to say when I made that post was not that you can’t be critical of Karl. If you want to say something about his Actions, his Ideals, or the content he creates- sure, go for it, that’s fair. I will agree that there are some very valid and constructive points to be made. But when you post ‘criticism’ about the way he speaks, his interests or preoccupations, his personal behaviors? That’s not criticism. That’s just judging someone.

And you’re allowed to think that stuff! Nobody can control what annoys or bothers them. It doesn’t necessarily make you a bad person. But you don’t need to be vocal about it. You can keep your mean thoughts to yourself. And if you do make posts or communities or whatever about judging someone for things they can’t change about themselves, don’t call it “criticism” or try to morally justify it. It’s not productive or righteous, it’s just rude. Nothing else.

Anyway. Back to Education!

The following will be a descriptive list of visible ADHD behaviors, using Karl’s behavior as examples.

I feel the need to add a disclaimer here- I am not a mental health professional. However! I have ADHD myself, I have taken some psychology courses and done a Lot of research into this stuff, and I’m the daughter of a therapist with access to a DSM. While I’m not an expert, I’d like to think I’m fairly well versed and knowledgeable on at least ADHD. (That being said, if by chance anyone who Is a professional sees this post and notices mistakes, by all means let me know and I’ll fix it!!)

WHAT IS ADHD?

You’re here for the behaviors more than the science, so I’ll keep this short and sweet. ADHD is Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (Known in the past as Attention Deficit Disorder). Despite its name, the root problem of ADHD is not in the person’s ability to pay attention, but their brain’s capability to manage itself. In simple terms, people with ADHD have a lot less control over what their brain does and wants. This results in some behavioral differences along with some personal challenges, namely a difficulty with attentiveness and self-discipline.

Now, onto the symptoms!

ATTENTION

This is perhaps the most visible and pervasive of the ADHD symptoms, hence why it’s the namesake. Inattention is a lack of focus and an inability to stay present and occupied with certain tasks or thoughts.

Because ADHD impairs self-management of the brain, people with it have an extremely hard time directing themselves anywhere but where their brain instinctively wants to go. This results in inattentiveness and the easiness of distraction that is often mocked or stereotyped for people with ADHD.

Here are some examples of how Karl can sometimes display his inattentiveness;

When he has an idea that he seems passionate about, only to drop it or switch to something totally different without warning soon after (either forgetting or getting bored of his original idea).

When he sets out to do something like a build, works on it for a short amount of time, and then immediately gives up or gets someone else to do it.

When someone else is talking and he totally zones out. (NOTE: While I wont make a whole section for it because it’s not easily observable, maladaptive (constant and intrusive) daydreaming is a common ADHD symptom as well!)

It’s important to remember that the whole problem with ADHD is that we can’t control when or what we focus on. When someone with ADHD zones out during a conversation or activity, it doesn’t mean they’re doing it on purpose, and they likely don’t mean any offense! We often are trying our best to listen or participate, but our brain just wont cooperate.

However, inattention is not the only way ADHD effects our focus. There’s also what’s called hyperfocus or hyperfixation, which is when we are so absorbed into a single subject, task, or idea that it is extremely difficult to get us to think about or do anything else. This is usually because our brains have found something that is getting those satisfaction chemicals flowing, and it’s clinging to that with everything it’s got.

People with ADHD will often experience brief periods of hyperfocus. Think of how Karl talks about spending hours straight working on a build or project without eating or drinking, or how he’ll sit down to play a game with someone and end up going six hours without even noticing.

There are also hyperfixations, where someone with ADHD becomes extremely preoccupied with a certain subject, topic, etc. for a period of time. These can be short term- personally, my hyperfixation can sometimes change as quickly as a couple weeks at a time. However, it can also be long term. Karl has been obsessed with Survivor since the second grade- not to mention his memorabilia, rambling, and constant references to Kingdom Hearts.

HYPERACTIVITY/STIMMING

This is a BIG one for Karl. I should clarify; ‘stimming’ is not a technical term, and in professional situations these behaviors are just referred to as Hyperactivity. However, I personally like the term stimming much more and find it far more accurate to what the behaviors actually are, so I’ll be using that instead for this post.

If you’re not already familiar, ‘stimming’ (derived from ‘stimulation’) is an unofficial term used to describe consistent and abnormal patterns of physical and vocal behavior typically expressed by people with ADHD and ASD (Autism Spectrum Disorder). This includes things that people usually call fidgets or tics.

(NOTE: There are differences in how people with those two disorders stim. This post will explain stimming specifically from an ADHD perspective! ASD stimming is caused by very different factors and presents itself in much different ways. Do your own research if you’re curious!) 

There are two major observable forms of stimming- physical and vocal. Karl expresses both VERY often! I’ll use examples for each type;

Physical Stims: Flapping his hands/arms, jumping up and down when he’s excited, twisting around into odd positions in his chair, throwing, hitting, or tapping things, standing up and pacing around when he’s hyped up or laughing, twisting his rings, etc.

Vocal Stims: When he gets excited and repeats a certain phrase incessantly (Think any variation of “I’m popping off”), making certain repetitive noises while he’s focused on something or bored (”la la la”, the meow-noises, the weird heart-beat noise, etc.), singing or humming, tongue clicking.

It should be noted here that it’s pretty common for people with ADHD to get “stuck” on certain phrases or noises, and be unable to stop repeating them (reminiscent of echolalia, a symptom of ASD, but not the same thing). Think of how Karl might sometimes keep making a weird noise for an extended period of time even though it’s not that funny, or that one time he was physically struggling to keep himself from singing the Bakugan theme. These repetitions are completely impulsive and trust me, we usually know how annoying it is while we’re doing it, but we physically cannot stop.

ADHD stims are caused by the fact that the barrier between our brain and body is much weaker than a normal person’s. Because of this, most ADHD stims are actually very positive expressions of joy, excitement, or enthusiasm! Y’know how when you get excited, you feel like you wanna jump or dance? The ‘hyperactivity’ of ADHD is basically just that, but we don’t have the self-control to Not do it.

Stims can be caused by negative feelings like overstimulation, but in ADHD this is not nearly as common. Usually, the most negative reason we’ll stim is when we’re bored- in that case, our brain isn’t getting the Constant Stimulation that it naturally wants, so stimming is a way to make our own.

Whatever the cause, stimming is natural and impulsive. While different people experience it to varying degrees, those who regularly stim typically have little to no control over it. Suppressing stims is very hard and very frustrating to do.

Besides that, like I said- ADHD stims are often an expression of joy, excitement, or enthusiasm. They’re a beautiful thing that shouldn’t be seen as shameful or annoying!

BEHAVIORAL DIFFICULTIES

ADHD is a disorder which causes a lack of self-control. Naturally, this means that people with ADHD are inherently reckless, impulsive, and struggle with a lack of self-discipline that they cannot fix.

Of course, people with ADHD do still have some level of self-control, and they are still responsible for conscious, long-term behavioral patterns and decisions. However, in regards to most things, they are much, much less capable of controlling themselves than an average neurotypical person is.

These are some examples of how this will often present itself in Karl;

Excessive rambling, dragging on a joke or conversation when it could and should probably have been dropped, etc.

Speaking over or interrupting other people (NOTE: As someone with ADHD- THIS IS ALMOST ALWAYS UNINTENTIONAL. I know it can seem rude or annoying but I promise, 90% of the time if someone with ADHD talks over you, they either didn’t realize or physically couldn’t help it. Please try to be patient!)

Lack of awareness towards social cues (NOTE: Unlike ASD, in which the person is incapable of/has problems fully understanding social cues, ADHD results in a lack of awareness. For whatever reason, we’re often just not paying close enough attention to pick up on things like body language, tone of speech, and facial expression as well as we would normally.)

Indecisiveness and overthinking

Bluntness, lack of subtlety

Unintentional dismissiveness, accidentally ignoring things/people (NOTE: Again, this behavior is purely accidental. In this case, it’s usually just the person genuinely not hearing or processing things.)

Making noises, speaking, joking, etc. at inappropriate times

There’s probably more, but I think you get the idea by now. A lot of the time, behavior which results from ADHD can be seen as rude, lazy, dismissive, or otherwise intentionally harmful. In reality, we just aren’t wired to navigate common social interaction with grace.

In Karl’s case, he’s clearly an incredibly sweet, empathetic, and kind-hearted person, if the various close friends who have talked about him are to be believed. Just because he talks over people or makes a poorly timed joke, that doesn’t mean he meant any harm. 

I think that’s about it for how much I wanted to point out! You can do more research if you’re curious, but I feel like this post should be enough to tell you what to keep in mind and be understanding about when talking about/making judgements on Karl, and other people with ADHD.

[astrojoong]

Hongjoong - Migraine Comfort

Hongjoong x Reader

Genre: Comfort, Fluff

Length: Bullet Pointed, sort of a Reaction

Warnings: Mentions of pain? nausea? 

AN: okay so this was originally going to be a full blown drabble, BUT I am very depressed and can’t seem to complete it, so I think I’m going to be posting them as bullet points/reactions for rn and then I’ll plan on fleshing them out and probably posting them to ao3. I say them bc this is part of a bunch of comfort fics that I’m writing, one prompt per member, one fic for each member! anyways lmk what ya’ll think! 

Ok so you and Joong have been dating for a while

They very recently ended promotions for a comeback and were BEAT

so when Joong texted you letting you know that they had their first free day in a while you were Excited to say the least

Work had been rough the past week and you really missed Joong during promotions 

and to a lesser extent, the boys

you arrive like a bit past one, just like you said you would, and were disappointed but not surprised, to find that half of the members were still asleep

At least Joong was up, that's all you could ask for tbh

Because you missed the boys as well as Your Boy, you and the awake members (read: Hwa, Yeo, and Jongho) decide to watch a movie together.

You all settle in the living room, getting all comfy and cuddly to watch a movie together 

It starts off calm. 

but

BUT

it is Ateez

even when the other members start to make their way into the living room around the end of the first movie and the start of the second, it doesn’t get crazy YET

but it was only a matter of time

you think it started with Wooyoung’s questions and commentary during the start of the second movie, but its hard to say how exactly you got to this point

u and joong are still on the couch, u leaning against him with his arms around your shoulder, holding you to him while he rests his chin gently on your head

yeo is on the other end of the couch and all three of you are watch the Shit Show go down

The innocent act of eating popcorn while watching a movie has devolved into a full blown battle of spitting kernels and flicking popcorn at one another

Its woosan on one side, yungi on the other

Seonghwa was in the middle, acting as both a shield and a target as he attempted to get the boys to ceasefire in the hopes of mitigating an already disastrous mess

jongho had abandoned the chaos in favor of napping in his room now that it was free of any distractions

as amusing as all this was, you were a little distracted.

you were getting a headache

well, at this point, you HAD a headache

you weren’t sure when exactly it had started but at this point you Certainly felt it

you hadn’t been too concerned, thinking it was probably just a tension headache since you had been all tensed up for the past month due to work

but now

now you were feeling nauseous 

which is a Bad sign

as nonchalantly as you can, you extract yourself from joong shooting him an apologetic look and make ur way to the bathroom

the farther u got from the cacophony, the less nauseous you became

which gave u a Theory

a theory that you tested when you entered the restroom and didn't turn on the light 

just as you suspected

your headache ebbed just a touch and the nausea lessened

it was a migraine

you had a little experience with migraines before, you knew yours didn’t present with an aura so you never got a warning before one hit 

you were thankful to have gotten yourself to a dark, quiet room before it hit full stride, which it was doing right now

all you could really do was curl up in a ball on the cool tiles and softly groan in pain 

which is exactly how joong found you 

when you had gotten up originally he noticed you seemed a little off but decided to say nothing and planning on seeing how you looked when you returned, maybe checking in then

after a couple minutes you could hear your phone chime, recognizing Hongjoong’s assigned text tone, but you were in far too much pain to do anything 

plus you knew how painful the light from your phone would be

so after a few more minutes, with his text remaining unseen, he came to check up on you himself

he knocks on the door and all you can really do is moan pitifully in response 

which does NOT comfort the poor boy

he was already worried before but now you sound like you’re in pain

when he opens the door you wince and retract from the light and now the faint sound of the rest of the boys’ distant antics

noticing your reaction, he crouches down to softly push some of your hair out of your face and stroke it lovingly

his voice gets really soft and he asks what's wrong 

you explain the best you can which is really just whimpering the word migraine at him 

he sighs and gives your head a few gentle pats before saying “wait here” in the same, soft tone, and standing up

he gently closes the door behind him 

through the door you can hear him use his “Leader Voice” as he speaks to the members

you aren’t really aware enough to catch any specific words, all u know is that you’re for sure glad that the noise had died down a considerable amount 

some time later

it could’ve been anywhere from 3 to 10 minutes, you aren’t really in a place to note the passage of time, joong returns.

as he slowly opens the door, you brace yourself, but it doesn’t hurt like it had before

he had the lights in the hall way turned off

joong helps you up off of the floor and guides you toward him and hwa’s shared room

there he has the lights off and the curtains drawn

on his bedside table there are two icepacks, a glass of water and a bottle of over the counter pain meds waiting for you

he helps you sit down and hands you the water and deposits two pills into your palm

you were getting ready to settle down when you heard wooyoung’s voice cut through the silence, yelling about something that mingi had done

you wince and the gentle expression falls from joongs face, morphing into “Leader Mode” as he quickly but quietly left the room to scold Wooyoung, but not before placing a gentle peck on your temple before disappearing 

He returns with a remorseful looking woo who softly apologizes from the door, you silently wave off his apology and in return shoot him a finger heart with as much playful energy as you can muster

he returns the gesture as Joong turns back from talking to Seonghwa, who also apparently had followed him back.

you shoot hongjoong the best questioning look you can and he whispers back that Hwa will be making sure the rest of the boys keep the dorm quiet until you feel better

he tucks you into bed, placing ice packs on your forehead and neck respectively 

he pulls up a chair next to his bed and softly strokes your hair and whispers soothing words to you until you are finally able to fall asleep

ok tbh this is my first time ever writing so like... hopefully it wasn’t Total Shit, im not Super happy w it but we all have to start somewhere so whatever. also! hopefully this is a somewhat accurate description of a migraine! I’ve only had about four in my life and they were all essentially the same as what the reader has. So I have limited experience and research to go off of but hopefully it was sufficient enough. Anyways pls let me know what you thought, or if you have a request (no promises tho lmao) or ideas. I’m pretty much open to anything.

thank you for reading!!

[darkobssessions]

Coping Tips for Autistic Women

I am compiling a list of resources for aspie women along with tips to manage symptoms and navigate the world. Regretably, most of my personal experience comes from living undiagnosed and unaware about this for the last 27 years. There was a giant elephant in the room with everything, and I have only recently worked it out. This means that most of my habits prior to this point were ones attempting to cope with a giant unknown, the limits of which were unclear. But they more or less worked, because, as I am realising, there’s always been something they are attempting to address.

With other diagnoses and ways I attempted to explain and understand my difficulties, there were finite causes and treatments. I should have been improving if I tried x, y, or z. And I did improve my symptoms in many ways, but there was something missing from the picture. That is that autism is my personality, my state of being, how I process and view the world. And no tool, medication, process or treatment was ever going to change who I really was. Being misdiagnosed (or being missed and failing to receive the autism diagnosis) means that I have been trying to correct something that you cant ‘correct’, and shaming myself for something fundamentally me.

Some of the tips I learned over time, from how I am as a person, without the framework of reference of neurodivergence or autism:

Sensory:

My sensitivity has always been a big waving flag. I felt and saw things others didn’t. I felt more deeply. I sensed the microeffects and changes in everything. I responded harder and faster to any chemical, environmental shift, any positive or negative event, As we all do on the spectrum, we attempt to navigate our sensory environment. And we come up with coping mechanisms, good or bad, before or after we realise we are on the spectrum. For me this was a strong aversion to the things that upset me, that disturbed my senses. It was an orienting of myself in a way to avoid the disturbances, going inwards, withdrawing and even shutting down. I learned that I could not and did not want to handle crowds, loud places, supermarkets. I lived in a giant simulation attempting to minimise and avoid as much as possible the things that hurt. I learned that I was extremely sensitive, no one else seemed to be, and I just had to manage it. Since discovering autism in the last weeks, I am able to embrace the fact that sensory overload is a thing, and I really do feel pain in my body when things are too much and too loud, and just wearing earplugs has mitigated so much of this. I was gas lighting myself before about feeling a certain way because there was no explanation, that I was aware of anyway.

Physical:

I have had so many problems over the years, since I was a young girl. I used to get food poisoning symptoms really easily. I had hidden allergies. I remember a lot of my childhood spent doubled up with stomach pains, or having a fever. My family didn’t know any better and fed me and treated me as they did every other member. I was not the same, I did not feel the same, but I took it all in. By the time I was in my early teen years, I had cemented my aversion to certain foods, taken the only control I had at the time against an encroaching and controlling mother and turned it into anorexia. I avoided things I didn’t like, again, and set up a system of control that made more sense than the gaping wounds and confusion within me. Starvation triggered bulimia. And a viscous cycle of malnourishment and dysregulation unfolded. I didn’t learn until many, many years later that my system was so sensitive and damaged that if I tried to go back to how I used to eat as a child, I would get terrible symptoms. So my coping tips as I have healed from the eating disorders and become more aware is to figure out what the triggers are, what hurts, and to avoid it. This along with adding in nutrient dense foods and working on the deficiencies has done wonders for me. I’ve done tremendous work on my autoimmune conditions, gut problems, sensitivities and inflammation levels and the difference is like night and day. That I can induce psychotic symptoms by deviating or introducing foods I am intolerant to is no joke. The tip I can share is elimination diets truly do work, the keto diet is recommended, and eating the carnivorous way saved my life. My eating disorders for almost 15 years INCLUDING the 7.5 years I was a vegan, mostly high raw and fruitarian depleted my nutrients so badly that every symptom was enhanced 100% and I was eating pretty much ONLY food I was actually intolerant to. Ahem, plants, I’m talking to you. The peace I feel, the nourishment and rest on a nervous system level having eliminated them is unreal.

Social:

I have always known I was different, in a deep, visceral way. How the adults in my life answered questions was inadequate. I saw through people and things. I was far too intense and serious. I learned to watch and observe humans and pick up cues so as to attempt to fit in. I spent the majority of my life masking, something I am only now finding out about and unraveling. I kept notes on the human experience, and saved colours, sounds, feelings, because I felt like I couldn’t communicate the truth of myself otherwise. Over the course of my life there have been inexplicable (until now) events. Lost friendships and relationships, strings of broken promises, people not acting on what they say, confusions and miscommunications, and many dangerous situations and predatory bonds. I made what sense I could of it from whatever lens I could find. It was the trauma, it was my soul contract, it was what I deserved, it was being targeted- all close, but not quite within the realm of being so naive, open and fundamentally different as you are on the spectrum. I just always assumed everybody was like me. I had to learn the very extremely hard way that not everyone felt and thought in the same way, nor had good intentions. I still struggle with the fact that humans don’t tell the truth. It is of no relevance whether they secretly know it. Most people are more comfortable with illusions. I always knew this, but the diagnosis gives me a lot more peace around it. It’s allowing me to accept the fact that if I look around the majority of the people I see are not walking around processing and over-analysing everything, feeling sounds, decoding patterns and obsessed with hacking the code of reality. Less pressure that way, and more in the way of what can be viewed as natural interaction on my part. I will solve the mystery of the universe out loud otherwise, and get the blank looks and the discomfort. I have found my people, a tribe of likeminded individuals, I have gathered friends over the years that didn’t run from my weirdness. But I am mostly content to be on my own, knowing that I can only use what is around me to try to convey how I feel and who I really am. And that will probably be a book, a movie or a work of art, much better than a 2pm rendezvous when I can’t stop talking about the hidden signs.

Emotional:

With the intensity of my emotions I have developed borderline personality disorder as a means to cope with being autistic and not knowing. I have been diagnosed with both that and bipolar because I have intense stints of emotions. They come and go in waves, lasting hours, lasting days and weeks. I consider it to be an energy management system to cope with the demands and stressors of modern day living. Creatives always withdraw and hibernate, and come out with new insights and art to share. The way that I feel and view the world is special. It’s at the basis of my writing, what I choose to engage with and how. My emotions make me who I am. I feel intensely, I share passionately about how I feel. I snap, I break, I shutdown, I come out again and I am a bright, shooting star. There is an excited little animal that lives within me and it is the strongest most passionate thing known to man. I thought that my negative experiences or trauma killed it, but this is before I knew it IS me and cannot die. So I have stopped trying to cram these emotions in or explain them. Stopped trying to attribute them to whatever script people were following when they dealt with me. Throwing me into the depressive, anxious, panic stricken, eating disordered basket case category. The missing piece now makes so much sense. The ways I responded to being autistic were coping mechanisms, such as developing a personality disorder, to deal with the pressure. My psyche splintered under the weight. My tip here is in embracing your inner life and world, embracing that you are different, so that all of the mental and emotional acrobatics needed to attempt to explain the issues or fit in can be put to rest.

Spiritual:

Being different and feeling differently means I naturally saw and expressed things in quite a strange way. I was convinced of a secret world to reality, behind reality, living on behind a paper shell, so to speak, that would rip if only I could reach out and tear it aside. That conviction was rewarded as year after year my awareness grew, my gifts multiplied, and the experiences I had revealed to me the hidden hand of god. There was very much design to the universe, a pattern, weaving through all things. And i was a part of it, not some discarded afterthought or simple byproduct that had no place. In the early years, I kept my convictions to myself, nursed them with experience. I died a thousand deaths in dark nights of the soul, crashing against the turf of my ignorance. I broke open, and everything I had been so sure of as a child was revealed to me again and again. I was convinced I had a purpose, I could feel the deep tides of human emotion and motion, could feel into the genetic sequence that had birthed me. I felt like an alien, but that slowly over time the map of my operation was being revealed to me. This is what it feels like so many years later to stand here and find out about being autistic and realise that how I felt in my soul all these years was real, and that I can begin to truly fulfill this mission now, to share my experience in words I know others will understand because they feel the same way too. It was the challenges that I never understood, while the gifts were the reason to stay alive. My message to myself and others now is that there is a point, a reason to persevere and understand yourself more. The suffering reveals so much of the true state of things, so that we can protect our tender hearts and build new things that honour who we really are, our souls. 

Resources, movies, literature to follow. I just wanted to share something of a summary now of my realisations since coming home to myself.

[boop-le-snoot]

masterpost ☀️ main masterlist ☀️ taglist

previously on...

This chapter is very dialogue heavy. Stephen Strange being a little bit of a dick and Tony being a sweetheart. No warnings here, just plot and worldbuilding. I think Tony is his own warning to be honest... Do we want fun facts before each chapter like before or nah?

Sorcerer Strange stared at me with the heat of a plasma beam after I finished stuttering throughout my story, one accurate eyebrow raised and sharp cheekbones painting him displeased and dangerous in the yellow light of the store lamps. The whole experience shook me more than I would have liked to admit to myself and his mute reaction wasn't helping matters at all.

"Hmph," he finally cleared his throat, taking a step back and casting a thoughtful look over the shelves in the store. "You did all you could. Perhaps, we owe you gratitude," his tone was far kinder than his face. "How long have you been doing... This?" He vaguely gestured with a gloved hand.

"Long enough," I replied without thinking. My stress levels urgently rose above acceptable and the feelings needed to be let out now; Wong's dismissive attitude and Strange's half-assed apology for the attitude was still fresh in my mind.

The sorcerer sighed, briefly touching the bridge of his nose. "I won't pretend to understand the reason for your hostility but I'd like to remind you we're on the same side here," his steely blue eyes attempted to peer into my soul.

"There are no sides here," whatever he was selling, I wasn't buying it. "There are just people who get hurt, either because of unstable maniacs with superpowers or aliens who think Earth is an all-you-can-kill buffet," I stuck my dirty, bloody hands in my pockets. "You do your part in mitigating the damage, I do mine. That's all there is."

"And you would be making my job expotentionally harder if you get in the way and slow down professionals, even if you mean well," the man's temper had, evidently, won over and he immediately got on the defensive, crossing his arms and trying to glare me down.

Odette's words rang true, starting a storm of hollow anger in the pit of my skull. "Now listen here, you privileged prick," the damn burst at the seams as I squared up to give him a piece of my mind. "You and your Hogwarts rejects and the merry band of billionaires may have the opportunity to 24/7 healthcare and near-instant compensation for any damages the villain of the week decides to bestow upon your shallow little heads," I advanced half a step towards Strange, hands bailed into tight fists, internally rejoicing at the way he leaned back. My blood sang with adrenaline as I breathed the exhilaration.

"But how many people do you overlook? How many children never make it because your super secret organisation gives their parents an ultimatum just because they are different? This is a safe space for the ones you pretend not to see until it's convenient and it will stay that way, over my fucking dead body, if need be," I stared at the tall man, almost physically feeling his brain halt and pause with the cartoony sound of screeching tires. Whatever he was expecting, it wasn't this.

A pregnant pause hung in the air, both of us waiting for the other to explode.

"Don't you think I am aware," Strange finally seethed through gritted teeth, alarming golden sparks shining in his eyes. "The Avengers are not under the rule of SHIELD and I, personally, have no affiliation with either. I do not condone their barbaric methods," the man was struggling to form his sentences properly but even despite that, I understood his ideas.

I desperately wanted to believe his words to be true, I really did, but... "Then do your fucking job and let me do mine. I do not go out there and intervene, I merely clean up the mess you all leave. Something that nobody wants to do do, so unless you've got any takers, I'll keep helping those you deem unfit," in a fit of muted rage, I flew my arm to point at the abandoned cars and destroyed concrete outside of the window, the empty street and the clouds of dust rising into the moody skies.

The entrance door flew open suddenly, with a force strong enough to bang the heavy, old handle against something outside, letting in the stuffy air inside the bodega. Strange jumped at the sound of the screaming hinges, my own heart skipping a beat from the startling interruption.

Visibly composing himself, the man pierced me with a final stare before starting a dangerously quiet, "Very well, goodbye," and hightailing it out of Odette's before disappearing in a golden circle just outside the front porch.

I let my shoulders sag for a brief moment of respite, feeling the tension bleed out of me and penetrate every nook and cranny in the room. My protection charms were mostly destroyed, silver dull, glass and amber crackled. Tossing them into the appropriate recycling bin, I set to clean up the shop, flying through the motions in record time and wandering home through the damaged streets on autopilot.

My anger had cost me more than a fortune in my past but no matter how much I sought to reason with myself, I couldn't bring it to justify Strange's attitude towards my choices. The more I thought about it, the less rational my guesses became; I forced myself to stop thinking about it when my brain had unhelpfully supplied an absurd notion of him being jealous of my lifestyle: he knew next to nothing of my skills and his opinion was based solely on seeing me work the store front and one cleansing spell I'd performed on Bucky. There was simply no rational explanation for his behaviour.

NYC life wasn't affected by the battle in the slightest, it seemed; a day and a half later, I was back at Jeremy's, serving overpriced hot beverages to the rich and the busy. I'd slept on the Bucky and Strange situation, got a handle on my feelings and decided to simply put it away. There were other, more pressing things to worry about than a couple of men.

I didn't expect the flood of anxiety that turned my hands to lead upon seeing Tony Stark's signature suit-and-sunglasses wearing ass waltz into the café. He flashed me his usual easy grin but didn't remove his glasses, eyes eerily blank behind them, as he motioned for his usual order before leaning on the countertop with the entirety of his upper body. "So, Starshine, what is it exactly that you do?" Came the question I was dreading. "Are you, like, a witch? The broomstick and cauldron kind?"

"Mr. Stark, I am serving you coffee and a muffin as we speak," I replied curtly, raising an eyebrow.

"Drop the act, honeybuns. I thought we were friends," if I squinted, I could see that he was genuinely hurt by my lack of desire to communicate. Or, perhaps, he simply was unused to not satisfying his curiosities immediately.

Either way, I stood no chance against Stark patented puppy eyes. "I clock out at two," a sigh of epic magnitude left my mouth against my will. "You can interrogate me then. Until that, it's lattes and cheesecakes only."

Tony narrowed his eyes, smile warming up by a smidgen. "Interrogate you? Never," he pocketed the napkin with Dr. Banner's scribbles the doc had forgotten last time. "I'm merely curious." Another flash of his teeth and he was gone, taking what little peace I had left along with him.

The hands on the clock made their hurried rounds over and over. My chest had grown it's own set of ticking, grinding, mismatched gears as the endless possibilities coursed a steady stream through my head. Tony Stark was a wild card, his struggles with authority a widely known fact, as frequent as his strange habits in just about anything. And while I doubted I would get ambushed and locked up, I had no qualms of him berating me for telling off his boyfriend. He seemed like the possessive, overprotective type, anyways.

As soon as I exited the café, surrounded by the smells of flour and coffee grounds, my eyes immediately landed on the shiny, brand new Audi illegally parked right in front of the establishment, it's owner leisurely leaning against the hood with a face of contented boredom as passerby pedestrians shamelessly ogled him and his ride. His face lit up as he noticed me, immediately rushing to hold the passenger side door open for my comfort. "M'lady," the dorky remark didn't fail to summon a smile to my face even if it was a weak shadow of my usual camaraderie.

"Mr. Stark," I greeted him as soon as he peeled off the crowded sidewalk.

The lack of joy on my face didn't go unnoticed by him and every now and then, he snuck a glance at my face. "Relax, Starshine, I won't bite."

"Well," I mumbled, remembering the vicious way I had torn into his boyfriend. "Good to know."

Seeing as that didn't do much for my nerves, he suddenly swerved right, rushing into a busy intersection with the ease of a practiced manic driver. "I'm feeling like a cheeseburger," he announced unceremoniously, pulling into a parking lot of some place I never noticed.

I doubted that I could swallow anything at all but relented, sitting down opposite him in the furthest booth from the entrance. I ordered the biggest milkshake they had as Tony grinned big at the waitress, finally taking off his sunglasses when she left for the kitchen.

I rested my elbows on the table under the scrutiny of his gaze. He kept quiet. I couldn't hold back my curiosity any more. "So?"

His sharp, clever brown eyes captured and held mine for the longest second in my life. I struggled not to break eye contact until he relented, focusing on the shine of my rings instead. "RoboCop almost died from the shit that happened to him," Tony's words were curt. I inhaled sharply, assuming he was talking about Barnes. The engineer's fingers began to fiddle with his glasses. "We couldn't figure out how you helped him. Not the medical, not Banner, not me and and not even Steph," he paused to run a hand through his hair. "Barnes was hit with a poisoned arrow. There were no toxins left in his body, not even a single inflammation marker showed up on the tests." With that, Tony expectantly turned to me.

I chewed on my lip in contemplation. "Magic," I simply answered, figuring Strange had already briefed him about my occupation.

Tony shook his head with a snort. "Magic that the Sorcerer Supreme doesn't recognize or cannot detect?" The question was saved in nature.

Stephen Strange was Sorcerer Supreme and I had pissed him off and remained alive. I couldn't believe my luck, if Odette's stories were anything to go by. Inwardly rejoicing, I nonetheless resigned to answer truthfully. "Because there is nothing to detect, no foreign energy," I tried to phrase it in a way a scientist could understand. "What I use to heal, it is given me by nature and willingly. Think of me as a... Conductor. I merely store the energy short-term and direct it where it is needed."

That sparked a visible interest in Tony. He leaned forward, running my whole form, over and over, with his sharp eyes, searching for something I knew he wouldn't find. "Like... Making a blood transfusion?" It was obvious that he was thinking hard about the subject. "Like a successful organ transplant?"

"Something like that," I agreed amicably, seeing as he was talking at himself rather than engaging in a conversation with me.

"But it doesn't come from nothing, the first law of thermodynamics..." He started off in slight confusion.

"Yes, the total amount of energy remains constant," I interrupted him, making his eyes widen. "It's all around us, Mr. Stark. You cannot see it, and most people even cannot feel it, but mother Earth supports her creations. More than we like to think," the corner of my mouth tilted upward at the memories. Working with Gaia directly was like being briefly submersed in a cocoon of pure, warm sunshine; like being held in mother's arms as a babe. "She is kind and she is merciful, especially to the ones whose suffering is unjust," I let the man mull over my words.

The waitress brought our orders; my throat was parched, I took a few haste gulps of the chocolate milkshake. Tony's burger, however, remained unnoticed and untouched.

"Earth is a sentient organism?"

The question made my eyebrows rise; I coughed slightly, meeting his confused eyes with a smirk. "Mr. Stark, keep your science headcanons to yourself," the banter came easily now that the status quo was established.

He rolled his eyes, fitfully resisting the smile tugging at his mouth. "I'm telling on you to Mean Green," there was no malice behind his words.

I doubted the shy scientist would do much more than stutter out two jumbled questions but let the topic slide in favour of closing up on the issue. "Would you call a wolf sentient? No," I shook my head. "But it is autonomous, it has free will. Think of it like that," I wasn't really up to par on explaining Tony all the ins and outs of my craft. The more I spoke, the more questions danced in his eyes. It was charming but not something I wanted to spend most of my day on.

"I won't pretend to be anything but sceptical but as it is, I happen to be dating a wizard," the engineer finally chortled, making hands for his burger. He made a vague gesture with his fork, expression still not-quite out of the thinking place.

"They say opposites attract," I shrugged.

"Romanoff keeps saying we're two sides of the same coin, so," he non-commitally shrugged in return. "Can't help but wonder what the fuck did you tell him that day. He was seething," Tony raised an eyebrow, tone teasing.

"Oh lord," I briefly palmed my face. "Here comes the shovel talk."

"No, no," a fry landed on the table in front of me. I snatched it right from under Tony's hand. He pouted. "He probably deserved it. I mean, you saved the Terminator and, honestly," he paused. "I heard about one third of his rant and I distinctly remember something about 'girls way over their heads' and whatnot," he did a poor imitation of his boyfriend's deep voice. "Now, I consider myself a feminist so, respectfully, I disagree," he finished with a self-satisfied smirk.

I blanked, trying to process the avalanche of information. "That's a lot to unpack," I acquiesced.

"It means he likes you. I would know," the man had the audacity to wink at me. And that, ladies and gentlemen, was Tony Stark.

"Are you hitting on me for your boyfriend?" I couldn't resist snarking back, briefly catching his eyes as I polished off my milkshake.

Tony looked at me through his thick, long lashes, a picture perfect visage of surprised innocence. "Maybe," his tone a little too south of friendly, the direction of his eyes a bit lower than my face.

The snort escaped me before I could put a stop to it. The banter - it was easy, comforting in this situation where I found myself to be akin a fish out of water. Like I was a slightly socially awkward witch, Tony was a genius engineer and a notorious flirt. He toed the lines of appropriate with practiced gusto and I hadn't had the heart to do anything but indulge in a little bit of harmless fun ever since he first stepped foot in the café, seeing right through his stone cold facade of an alleged womaniser. Call it a hunch, if you will.

Say what you want about Tony Stark but one thing was definite: he was a gentleman. I thoroughly enjoyed my ride home in his expensive, fast, latest model car. As the city streets zoomed by in a flurry of blurred lines and flashing colorful lights, I allowed my mind to finally calm and resume it's usual even wandering pace.

A hand loosely thrown over the steering wheel, Tony quietly hummed along to the music, playing with the hem of his tee whenever it wasn't occupied with driving the car. He looked so peaceful like that.

The sound system played some contemporary rock that blended in with the moderately busy afternoon of the NYC streets, submerging the surroundings in catharsis. Grey everything with the occasional burst of colour from a traffic light; the brief car ride lulled me into a state almost drowsy.

"You with me, Salem?" Tony's voice quietly took me out of my stupor.

I blinked, seeing the front door of my apartment building. "Yeah, yeah, thanks," I didn't resist the big, wide smile of relief and rejoiced upon seeing his face return to his normal expression, sparkling and mischievous. "That's my stop," I motioned lamely.

Something hung in the air, something unsaid. It leaked through the gaps between Tony's smile and his eyes, it filled up the car with something thick and foggy. I was powerless to stop its influence on me; the daze remained just as it was when we zoomed through city streets.

Tony's fingers twitched on the steering wheel as I exited the vehicle, giving him a short wave before he put pedal to the metal, quickly disappearing into the twilight. I watched his tail lights glow red amongst the flat blacks and greys and beiges of my surroundings, blinking away the dryness in my eyes only when the car disappeared from my view completely.

My apartment was just as I'd left it, warm and slightly messy- but a new feeling had crawled up from the very gutter of me, foreign and impending. The walls didn't breathe the comfort I had hoped I would finally find: if anything, none of what I encountered on my rapid beeline towards the couch felt real.

I'd grown accustomed to the comforts of my solitude and routine, to attached to the simplest task of being. Sorting through my dirty laundry had never been a favourable ordeal for me, I'd much rather lived in a relatively wide bubble- rationally, I knew that sooner or later, change had have to come, but there was nothing ever rational about having feelings on one matter or another.

My spirit was trying to tell me big things were coming and I had no choice but to listen and let the currents of fate and happenstance snatch me up and take me whichever way they pleased.

Taglist: @couldntbedamned @mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @mostly-marvel-musings @persephonehemingway @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites @xoxabs88xox

[why-this-kolaveri-machi]

chin fucking up, amigo.

Titans 3.02

... eh?

SPOILERS ahead.

1. you know that music video for billie jean where michael jackson would dance along the pavement and the tiles would light up under his feet in different colours? yeah? me too.

titans hasn’t met a table top or a support arch that it doesn’t want to light up in a headache-inducing blue like the world’s most boring nightlight. i mean, i’m not an expert on lighting or cinematography or just... colour by any means, and the quality of the video i’m watching is poor given that i can’t access hbo max, but all the orange and teal and neon is making it very difficult to really differentiate between say, the batcave and the gotham police department and hell, the titans tower. i feel like there’s oftentimes a gap between idea and execution with titans, with gotham being this almost otherwordly hellscape with an aesthetic pulled from a gothic horror novel, but the colours and design just... leave it flat and dark and dull.

1.5. like what really frustrates me is that titans has a delightful mix of tones--the fights often remind me of schumacher-era batman camp, with the contrived quips and the start-stop rhythm and krypto just sallying in and ending the fight with a fucking SuperBark (tm) but in the same episode you have red hood just casually pulling out severed heads out of a duffle bag and desperate people blackmailed into killing themselves out of drug overdoses. I MEAN. it’s wonderful! but it looks all the same. it sounds Absolutely Bonkers on paper but on screen both Quip and Murder happen in the same washed-out blue and i wanted to be excited about the batcave, dammit!

2. things re: red hood have happened at such a breakneck speed that it feels like there’s so much that’s happened off-screen that we’re not privy to. a real proper mystery! 

things that are intriguing about the red hood arc so far:

a) what was that chemical he huffed just before going to fight the joker? is it a regular old performance/adrenaline booster or is it something more lazarus-juice adjacent? if it’s the latter, i can’t imagine he got that much information from a lone chemistry textbook. and where is he getting the resources to set up his little chemistry lab? is somebody else orchestrating things behind the scenes?

b) the red hood persona, costume and mask, plus the elaborate plan he’s putting in place to both string along gotham’s rogues and enact his revenge against the titans seems too... fully-formed and elaborate to have been concocted in just a few days. how long do you think jason’s been planning this? just... stewing in resentment and building rage, dismissed and passed around and underestimated and realising that the power he thought he would get by being robin is no power, no protection at all, but something that’s left him even more vulnerable than before? 

c) do we think that the scarecrow is at least partly behind this transformation? because yes, it was batman that set up this whole hannibal lecter-esque situation with him, and he would be irresponsible enough to have jason-as-robin go talk to him regularly regarding “~profiling~” criminals. it’s not too far of a leap to assume that scarecrow could’ve been manipulating jason at a very vulnerable time, and that he could’ve passed along some of his chemistry know-how, too.

d) ... or fuck, i wouldn’t put it past titans to introduce ra’s al ghul in a fucking ten second aside

e) anyway, the thing that won’t leave me alone is jason seeking out the joker not necessarily to fight him, but to orchestrate his own death. the whole thing has to have been part of a bigger plan. he broke batman with it, after all. and he’s starting to break the titans, too.

f) i love it! i mean, it does re-tread some of the storybeats we had with deathstroke last season (turning the titans against each other as revenge, etc) but it’s... tighter, this time, and at least for now seems better-executed. and as a red hood story it’s different enough to be really interesting, and i appreciate the ways in which its reframed the revenge story to focus on the titans rather than just the batman. like fuck everything up, i say! turn it on its head! slash the innards out of that sacred cow and strew it like garlands in the path of the Story You Want To Tell!

(and yes i am fully aware that by the time i post this review, there will be a whole lot more information out but if i come across like a fool then goddammit i will be a fool!)

2. i love how every season of titans starts off with, ‘oh dick, you thought you were settling into a role and a life and a pattern of relationships? well fuck you, here’s a terrible and traumatic thing, tons more responsibility, and circumstances that will lead you to uproot your entire life and move somewhere else.’ and dick’s just like, ‘well, ok. fuck you, but all right’.

can you imagine? the man was just settling into leading a team in sf and smiling for the first time in years, and now he has to deal with jason’s death, bruce experiencing a full fledged breakdown, coming back to a city that represents more bad memories than good, red hood, and a frightening new case that seems to be targeting him and his team. it’s a testament to dick’s growth that he’s not reacting to this stress like he did last year, shutting everybody out, making irrational decisions and experiencing sharp, short bursts of anger. (not to mention a full fledged psychotic episode.)

2.5. but i’ve also talked about dick performing a fair amount of unwarranted emotional labour for his team(s) in that he just lets them take out their frustrations on him and... does nothing. be it his team exploding at him for jericho (both in flashback and present-day) or donna and hank needling him for handling deathstroke poorly or barbara berating him for not handling the bank situation as well as she thought batman would though just the previous episode she had talked about how fucked up it was that bruce just expected dick to step up and replace him in gotham without any real notice. i mean it’s all perfectly understandable and sympathetic from their end--and i’m not trying to bash them here!--but hank, my man, the same chin you’re asking your amigo to keep up is the one that you punched last year and never apologised for. just sayin’.

2.75. @superohclair did a wonderful breakdown of what the ‘fear’ contract could imply here and there’s not too much i could add to that. it’s just really interesting that fear ended up being such a defining feature of their lives, albeit it’s the fear of seeming less than invincible in the face of bigger, more tangible fears. am i making sense?  dick feared loss, and abandonment, and the more existential concept of turning into something that he didn’t want to. bruce so feared being alone that he’s scouting kids to replace robin within days of jason dying. 

it also goes some way in explaining the tense sort of... restraint that bruce and dick show in the wake of loss and tragedy, like anything less than complete control of your emotions can lead to tragedy. it’s conditioning that dick couldn’t shake off when he was at his lowest in detroit, hating his legacy but unable to let it go either.

2.775. but i definitely appreciate the softness that dick displays with his team now, checking on them after a mission-gone-bad, welcoming back old members with no caveats or resentments (and kory’s delight in seeing hank back! hank and dick hanging out together and hank trying to prop dick up!), and appreciating their teamwork in solving cases. that’s always been the essence of dick as a person, and the beating heart of this show: flawed and traumatised people coming together to a place that will always be open to them, where they can be their worst and be supported still, allowed to make mistakes and grow from them. that’s family.

2.8. coming back to bruce for just a sec, it’s interesting how that gotham rogue was so certain when he said that ‘batman doesn’t kill’ but it’s not a rule that either jason or dick put much store by when they were robins. the ‘no-killing’ rule clearly didn’t mitigate dick’s fears about turning into batman and jason’s never been seeing giving two shits about it. it seems to me of a piece with bruce’s distant, second-hand sort of parenting that we see in dick’s flashbacks from s1 where the fear was never about personally disappointing batman, but taking lessons from him on finding a place in gotham’s hellish ecosystem and surviving.

3. kory having waking flashbacks! i don’t buy the bullshit parasomnia episode explanation from fake!HPG (because c’mon, justin has to be some sort of tamaranean ruse) because for one, you have to be actually asleep for that diagnosis. 

(and here i was, hoping against hope that HPG would actually end up as the team’s therapist)

curiouser and curiouser! i wonder if these flashbacks are from the time between kory landing on earth and the beginning of season 1, when she was completely amnesiac? it’d be cool if the show was considering repercussions from that time, and if kory hasn’t gained all her memories back. 

4. i just love the vibes between gar and conner and kory. gar Having Things To Do is only one part of my wishlist for him, however: other parts include having an actual story arc, and actually bonding with members who are not conner and kory. (dick! dick! hank! dick!)

anyway. time to move on to watching ep3 and seeing this family bond and nothing terrible and tragic happening at all, nope, nosiree. 

[not-from-the-absence-of-violence]

Inundated with the fated thought of you

A glimpse into one of the first dates between Carlos and Cecil.  

I wrote this as a christmas gift for @heyhelloitsk !! and as always thank you to Rowan @drowninginstarlights for beta reading! 

Carlos was different. He’d always known it, and over the course of his life, he’d struggled with it on a variety of levels. Having a diagnosis and a good therapist helped, of course, but it didn’t mitigate the feelings that the world just wasn’t built for him.

Night Vale was, in many ways, a breath of fresh air. It was scientifically speaking so incredibly interesting, no one seemed to particularly mind him experimenting on it, and it was so delightfully different that Carlos didn’t even stand out.

And then there was Cecil, of course, sweet Cecil, who he got to hear on the radio every day and was now, to his astonishment, dating. Dating wasn’t exactly new to Carlos, but dating Cecil was like everything in Night Vale: weird and exciting.

Sometimes Cecil was aware of that, he’d get that odd, distant look he sometimes gets (Carlos is currently investigating the theory that Cecil might be involuntarily psychic) and ask if he missed the world he had come from. Carlos had learned that what Cecil actually meant to say was “Would you not rather go back?”.

Carlos had given it much thought, and he’d found that he didn’t miss his old world. He had given that much thought as well, and he’d come to the conclusion that the reason he didn’t want to leave Night Vale was because there was still so much of it left to study and categorize.

Now, however, as he sat on Cecil’s couch, watching while Cecil prepared something that by all laws of science shouldn’t be edible but smelled good, Cecil occasionally turning around, revealing his government mandated “All hail the glow cloud” apron and just smiling at Carlos or telling joke that was semi-incomprehensible, Carlos was beginning to review his previous conclusion.

Feelings were complicated things, and they very stubbornly refused to be understood, but for what was certainly the first time in a very long time he felt like he didn’t need to understand. It was nice enough to experience it.

After Cecil had shoved what he graciously called a casserole into the oven, he came to sit next to Carlos on the couch. “What were you doing while I was cooking?” he asked.

“This is very important scientific research,” Carlos said, but he felt his ears burn as he looked down onto his paper where the important numbers and equations were surrounded by bubble hearts and other little doodles.

Cecil looked at his notes and nodded seriously. “Looks very important, yes.”

Before Night Vale, Carlos had learned that silences should be awkward, but by now, he knows that Cecil didn’t mind. He also didn’t mind excitedly carrying an entire conversation when Carlos didn’t feel like talking. Most importantly, however, he didn’t mind when Carlos rambled. Usually people got tired, but Cecil would always listen to him with rapt attention, smiling like Carlos was the world's biggest genius for explaining different types of salt rock.

So they sat in comfortable silence, the ominous hum of Cecil's oven as background noise, smiling at each other.

“How was work today?” Carlos eventually asked, even though it wasn’t particularly necessary considering he’d heard it on the radio.

Cecil’s eyes lit up anyway, and with his excitement the lightbulbs brightened. He talked excitedly, recounting with detail his work day, and with his hand movements and laughs the environment moved with him, the colours blinking, the air rushing. Carlos loved it. He’d asked Cecil about it, of course, but he seemed to be either unaware of his powers or considered them as natural as breathing, and he’d met every one of Carlos’ questions with a confused but curious glance.

Cecil was in the middle of his animated explanation of the new intern's way of petting Khoshekh without being consumed by the yawning void when he briefly caught Carlos’ eye. “Is it alright if I hold your hand?” he asked.

It caught Carlos a little off guard. Cecil’s gaze was almost timid, fixed upon Carlos, accompanied by a sudden rush of a soft breeze and the smell of petrichor. It was almost overwhelming.

Carlos and physical touch had a complicated relationship. Generally speaking, he wasn't very fond of it, sometimes he craved it dearly, but in a very specific way, sometimes it hurt. Most people didn’t give him the space he needed for experimentation, but he knew that Cecil would. So tentatively he nodded, reaching out to take Cecil’s hand. Cecil immediately laced their fingers together. That didn’t feel bad, just a little cramped, and he felt a rush of excited emotion from Cecil. It seemed the slight telepathy apparently also worked based on touch. Carlos shifted his hands a little to be more comfortable, Cecil shifted a bit closer.

The whole thing was very slow, but then Carlos gently laid his head on Cecil’s shoulder, who was almost vibrating with excitement. The air around them seemed to shimmer, like a distant heat haze, with Cecil’s feelings. It was a dazzling display, and Carlos had never felt more cared for.

Cecil moved a hand ever so gently towards Carlos’ hair. He made a gesture. May I?

Carlos nodded and Cecil gently sunk his hand into Carlos’ hair. It was nice actually, Cecil stroked his hair in a rhythmic motion, careful not to tangle it or yank at it. Carlos let out a quiet, happy sound. He turned to look at Cecil who was looking back at him wide eyed and openly adoring. Pinpricks of light burst around them, looking almost like fireflies. Carlos felt like he was in a movie, surrounded by light, the rest of the world disappearing.

His heart thundered in his chest, and he could feel the flush creep its way along his neck and ears.

“It’s so soft!” Cecil marveled, flapping his hands with excitement.

Carlos understood him then. Night Vale was so different that perhaps no one would ever find the words to express the shared feeling of unity they had right now. But that was alright because Cecil made the lamps flicker and bounce; Carlos called him “neat” and attempted to explain gravity to him.

They both knew what it meant: I like you, I am happy, I am safe, I am home.

They sat there together, experimenting with small touches for a while. Cecil was clearly happy to indulge him, and very quick to stop at the first sign of discomfort. Eventually Carlos tired of it, mentally taking notes on both his and Cecil’s responses to write down later. The oven was still humming and Carlos sighed a little. The humming had started to grate on him now.

Like clockwork, Cecil clicked his fingers, and out of nowhere a soft background tune started playing, unobtrusive but perfect.

“Better?” he said kindly.

That was the first moment Carlos realised he was falling in love with him. This utterly impossible man, who recounted unknowable horrors like it was boring chit chat, who had sat there looking at the lights above the Arby’s with him, who was kind and weird and fit right in with Carlos.

“Yes, Cecil,” is the only thing he managed to say. “Thank you.”

Cecil smiled and stood up. “The casserole must be done by now!” he said, heading over to the oven and pulling the casserole in question out of the hot oven without mittens on.

They ate together, laughing and enjoying each other’s company. They watched a documentary that was intermittently broken up by government propaganda. Cecil asked Carlos to stay the night and for the first time he said yes.

Carlos mulled the day over while pretending to sleep, as you did in Night Vale. He realised he didn’t just want to stay for science anymore. He wanted to stay because this world was built for him, because Cecil was here, because of the town and its people, no matter the dangers.He wanted to stay because it was home, the only one he’d ever had.

He wanted to stay because he loved it.

He felt many things towards this discovery that he couldn’t put into words, so he just gently laid his hand on Cecil’s unmoving hand and smiled as the streetlight outside the window turned on.

[whentherewerebicycles]

i have to wonder if there's an implication that can be drawn the other way around wrt playfulness and stress - not that un-playful individuals experience stress more acutely, but that people who experience stress more acutely become less and less playful. i have intense, disproportionate shame/fear reactions due to Childhood Trauma(tm) and it's inhibiting as fuck - my work with my singing teacher to relax and (though i've never framed it this way) play(!) w/out embarrassment has been (1/3)

one of the most healing things for me... so i think there's this nexus of inhibition & confidence/security & perspective/scale & playfulness & resilience. to be playful you have to be a bit silly and vulnerable and willing to take a risk on doing something "wrong" i.e. not take yourself too seriously, but if you feel chronically unsafe you'll take yourself & everything else too seriously and want to do it "right" so you minimize the perceived risk of harm. going back to my singing teacher (2/3)

the most important thing she did for me was create an explicitly safe, non-judgmental environment where it's not only ok but even desirable to "fuck up" and "look/sound stupid" and to reinforce that message multiple times. so anyway that quote just made me think that "don't take things/yourself too seriously" sits at this interesting intersection between increasing playfulness & coping strategies for emotional damage. sorry to ramble about it in your ask box lol! (3/3)

*

yes I think this is so so true!! all of this, lol, but especially the part about how acute stress can make it increasingly difficult to be playful. i have written a lot about working through internalized shame here in the past, and especially about the ways that shame causes you to both physically and emotionally shut down parts of yourself. (i actually gave a talk about this subject recently! it was like, a layman’s intro to the neuroscience of shame, with a specific focus on how shame responses affect people’s ability to learn & to connect socially with others in learning spaces.) 

i do just want to clarify that the excerpt i posted was from a study that was very narrowly focused on answering the question: “is there a link between playfulness levels and positive/adaptive coping mechanisms in responding to stress?” the study wasn’t designed to answer larger questions about what kinds of life experiences might produce higher levels of playfulness vs. make it difficult to be playful (such as past trauma, not having one’s basic needs for security met, etc.). in the conclusion the authors note that their findings (i.e., that playful people seem to be more able to readily access and use positive coping mechanisms) means that we should be doing more research on how to cultivate playfulness and how to help people unlearn maladaptive coping mechanisms like self-blame. so the point of the study was not to blame individuals or place the responsibility on individual people (“if you could just lighten up, you wouldn’t be so stressed / unhappy / bad at coping!”). it was more like, an attempt to establish that playfulness (as a way of engaging with the world) seems to be associated with all of these positive ways of coping and managing stress, and so we might want to research playfulness more deeply and/or focus on cultivating it in college students.

so i think you are absolutely right that when we talk about playfulness it’s important not to think of it as something that something people just “have” or don’t have (detached from any consideration of people’s backgrounds, lived experiences, etc.). and we also want to avoid pathologizing its absence (“if you don’t have a playful attitude then there’s something wrong/flawed/messed up about you that needs to be fixed”). my research is focused on understanding how we can better create learning environments like the one your singing teacher has created for you -- i.e., spaces where people feel more secure and less vulnerable to scathing or hypercritical judgment; where failures and mistakes are encouraged & normalized as a natural, healthy part of the learning experience; where instructors are modeling self-compassion and deliberately not using shame-based methods; and just in general, where students are getting the kind of gentle, compassionate, consistent messaging you describe receiving from your teacher. basically I’m interested in creating classrooms that provide the stability and consistency people need in order to learn adaptive coping mechanisms that will serve them well outside of those learning spaces.

i think these questions are so important because most college instructors are VERY aware that our students come into our classrooms carrying many different kinds of trauma—whether it’s the more extreme forms that we tend to think of when we think about trauma (childhood abuse, sexual assault, trauma experienced by combat veterans or refugees from warzones), or the forms of pervasive lowgrade trauma associated with financial precarity, racialized stress, etc., or even just the “lighter” or harder-to-classify forms of trauma that rachel naomi remen calls “the cultural shadow” (i.e., the toxic dominant culture that many of us grow up immersed in). and anyone who has taught at the college level (or taught any age level) knows that as a teacher you often have to at least temporarily play aspects of counselor / social worker / person adept at navigating university bureaucracy to help keep students in crisis from slipping through the cracks. (that is obviously NOT ideal, as those roles should be filled by trained professionals! but we have all been in those situations, where you are the first line of support for a student in crisis, or sometimes the last line of support because they have slipped through the giant holes in our country’s social safety nets.)

i think there’s been a shift in recent years towards “trauma-informed pedagogy,” but the slightly watered-down version of this approach many instructors receive tends to be very focused on mitigating harm in the classroom (ie, avoiding certain things or framing material in certain ways so as to avoid re-traumatizing students). this work is obviously HUGELY important (and my own research project is v much informed by it!). but i sometimes feel like these approaches are very damage-centered, ie very focused on understanding how students are “damaged” by their experiences and how we can “prevent further damage” in the classroom space. again, wanting to adopt teaching practices that avoid retraumatizing students is a good thing!!! but i think what i am hoping my work can do is suggest that we can and should strive for more than just limiting damage. to put this another way: i’m looking for ways to go beyond asking “how can we avoid re-traumatizing students in our classrooms?” to thinking more broadly about how we (as teachers, mentors, etc) can design learning environments and learning experiences that help students grow into healthier, happier, more emotionally resilient versions of themselves—and hopefully help build a foundation of social-emotional skills that they will take with them into their adult lives.

play is not the sole "answer” or solution! but i think that for me, it’s been one useful way to think about things like trauma-informed teaching, restorative practices, and social-emotional mentoring strategies, in ways that center a more positive, joyful understanding of what happy and emotionally well-adjusted adulthood can look/feel like. does that make sense?? i think about cultivating playfulness as just one angle onto answering these questions, or as one approach or set of strategies that people could have in their toolkits as they think about how we design learning environments. it won’t work for all students or all teachers or all learning environments, and it won’t solve all of the problems in higher ed (or in a culture where traumatic experiences are so prevalent and yet are so often left unacknowledged and untreated). but i think for me at least it’s been one generative way to reimagine some of the common structures and norms that structure higher ed learning environments.

anyway sorry to use your ask as a springboard into a long “thinking aloud” post!! but i really enjoyed reading your thoughts and i feel like it’s prompted me to articulate some thoughts that have just been sort of murkily floating around in my mind for the last couple weeks. i am also so glad for you that you have a space in your own life (and a trusted teacher figure) where you feel secure & can practice and explore being vulnerable, making mistakes, being silly/playful, etc. it sounds like she is a really wonderful teacher, and it’s so cool too that you are able to describe the ways in which that learning space has felt healing or healthy for you.

[welllpthisishappening]

We’re watching the Blues white vs blue scrimmage and I’m so excited hockey is almost back! I think this calls for a Blue Line re-read because it’s so, SO good and I’ve read through everything on ao3 at least 5 times. 💙

This makes me the absolute happiest! Thank you for reading! And then reading again! I am unreasonably excited about the start of the season and the length of Chris Kreider’s hair and I was going to post a quick Blue Line one-shot here, but it was basically just original characters in that it was literally just Matt Jones being an idiot while meeting his future wife, so I wrote something else this morning and winning the Stanley Cup would mean they’d have to change their before-the-season starts ritual. Anyway, here’s like nearly 4K of everyone ragging on each other just before the season after Blue Line, while Emma and Killian try to figure out where they can make out without anyone noticing: 

————

“Still looking?” “Yup.” “What she look like?” “Like the actual description of her face?” 

Something dug into the bottom of Emma’s shoulder blade, and it took her far too long to realize that it was the jut of Killian’s chin because even the idea of Killian crouching behind her so as to avoid the overall force of Regina’s glare was something that hadn’t even crossed her mind. Until it was happening, apparently. “She’s staring,” Emma muttered, “got that little pinch between her eyebrows that always shows up when she’s—” Killian groaned. Directly where his mouth was resting, which was also on Emma’s back and likely just above the ‘o’ in his last name, if her knowledge of the jersey she was wearing was any indication. Maybe in between the ‘j’ and the ‘o,’ actually. 

“You’re ridiculous.” “Me?” Killian countered, and Emma wished she hadn’t already finished that first glass of wine. Blurry thoughts bounced across her sleep-deprived brain because there was only one more sleep ‘til Christmas, or whatever Kermit sang in The Muppet Christmas Carol. Presumably Christmas. And not hockey. Or the start of the hockey season. 

Splotches of ink still dotted the sides of Emma’s right hand, the product of dragging that same hand over forms she had to sign and other plans she had to approve, and the blue carpet wasn’t coming until next week because the home opener was actually three games into the season, which was not as comforting or stress-reducing as she thought it should have been and she simply did not have time to mitigate an argument between her boyfriend and his agent. 

Even when that boyfriend was very good looking. 

In his Christmas sweater. 

The traditions of hockey players continued to boggle the mind. Emma’s, specifically. 

If she drank any more wine, she was going to fall asleep standing up. “Yes,” Emma said, “you, but only because you’re the one currently trying to burrow your way into me. With your chin.” Humming in confusion, he lifted his head, and that wasn’t really a mistake, per se — but it did leave his soft exhale brushing against the side of Emma’s neck, and that sort of guaranteed that goosebumps appeared on her neck and she should have been more annoyed. By Killian’s immediate laugh. Of the vaguely victorious variety. 

“What do you think about the sweater?” “That you’re fishing for compliments.” “I think I make Locksley’s stitched-on face look very good. Doesn’t get stretched out at all—” Killian ignored Emma’s groan, pressing a kiss to the exact spot her shoulder met her still goosebump-covered neck, and it was the wine’s fault. For the state of her increasingly wobbly knees. “—Which is more than I can say about his current face.” “Oh, that’s rude,” Emma argued. “And I’m not entirely sure it even made sense.” “Are you Locksley’s self-appointed defender, then?” “Are you the single most superstitious player in the entire National Hockey League?” That kiss came with a graze of his teeth and a noise Emma immediately regretted making. Something like a squeak bubbled out of her, flinching in the sort of way that only ensured she was even closer to Killian, and stepping on one of his toes would have detracted from the overall romance of the moment. 

“You can’t do that sort of thing in public, Swan,” Killian chided, and he really did have very good reflexes. Spinning her, Emma’s hands flew to his chest — pointedly ignoring the stitched-on face of Robin Locksley — and he didn’t move. Didn’t stumble or come anywhere close to falling. Just arched his left eyebrow and had the gall to smirk at her like they weren’t in a restaurant filled with their friends and teammates and—

“I’m not taking the shirt off, Gina,” Killian yelled over Emma’s head, “so you can stop whatever you’re doing with your face.” “Trying to turn you to stone,” Emma mumbled.

“Last I checked, she’s not a Greek myth.” “Far as you know.” He moved. Shook really, once his laugh started to echo between Emma’s ears, and they definitely had more pillows in their house than blankets, but the sound of Killian’s obvious and consistent joy was oddly similar to the softest piece of fabric Emma could imagine. Like it was capable of wrapping around her, warm without being suffocating, just this steady presence that didn’t weigh down on her and made everything feel like—

Home, she supposed. 

She was so happy; she was positive it simply poured out of her at this point. And the sweater really did not look half bad. Fit very well, at least. 

“This worked last year,” Will called, shuffling between Roland and Henry. Several wads of napkins littered the floor by their feet, a makeshift hockey game that, as far as Emma could figure, had ever-evolving rules and a tendency to knock chairs over. Roland’s jersey wasn’t quite as long as last year, the hem stopping well before his knees. 

Henry still had a twenty on his back. 

“Still looks ridiculous,” Regina countered. Her wine glass was also empty, sitting closer to Robin’s chair than she had been ten minutes earlier. “Do you think you should send them an email?” Killian’s eyebrow dropped. Pulled low in perfect tandem with the other one, Emma’s head tilting with her own sense of confusion. 

Something slammed rather loudly into one of the walls. Eric might have been doing shots behind the bar.

“What?” “An email,” Regina repeated, “to whatever website makes that monstrosity, so you can let them know that they should get more creative and offer more wardrobe choices to—” “—Idiots?” Robin quipped. 

“Professional hockey players.” Ariel clicked her tongue, ignoring her husband’s objections when she jumped onto the edge of the counter. Only a matter of time until several kids tried to follow suit. “Is your husband not a professional hockey player, Gina?” “Yes.” “Oh, that was far less of an argument than I expected,” David mumbled, stepping next to Emma, and he couldn’t quite bump her shoulder when she was still standing so close to Killian. “And kinda rude,” Will added, “all things considered.”

Regina shrugged. “I cannot possibly overstate how much I hate that sweater.” “Take it up with Banana,” Killian said. “Her gift; makes it her problem. All I am doing is—” “—Wearing it?” “And wearing it well,” he promised. If Emma’s cheeks turned red, no one mentioned it. Which might have been one of the nicer things anyone on this team had ever done for her. “Plus,” Killian continued, “Scarlet’s right. This worked last year. If you want to risk tradition and potential—” A chorus of jeers greeted his near-jinx, complete with pointed fingers and one of Ariel’s legs kicking out like she had any chance of actually reaching Killian. Or wouldn’t be annoyed by whatever harm she could possibly inflict on his upper thigh. 

Regina looked very pleased. “This does not mean you won, Gina,” Killian said, but she only shrugged again, and the first blast of Arthur’s whistle was as shrill as any sound had rights to be. 

More cries bounced off the walls and the balled-up napkins, Arthur’s hand resting on Gwen’s shoulder because at some point in the twelve seconds between the first whistle blast and everyone regaining their ability to hear; he must have decided that standing on a chair was actually a good idea.

Killian’s entire body shook behind Emma’s. 

Getting rid of the goosebumps would be something of a rather large miracle. Especially if he kept his arm around her waist like this, fingers splayed over her stomach. 

“Are we ready yet?” Arthur barked, only to be met with murmurs and more confusion, and Emma didn’t think much before accepting the glass Mary Margaret was practically shoving into her hand. 

“Is there a reason for the collective?” Robin asked. “Did you mean to include yourself in that? Are you not ready for your own speech?”

Arthur was not as good at glaring as Regina. No one mentioned that. No one had to, really. He took a deep breath before he started. “Day before the opener. We know what we did last year, and I want to be the first to tell every single one of you that I don’t give a flying fuck—” Another round of loud objections rang out around him, Arthur not quite able to wave them off because his balance really was awful, and Killian had to let go of Emma to haul Roland up his side. “—Anyone asks you about last year,” Arthur pressed, entirely unperturbed by the frustration of his team and their assorted families, “and you better tell them you don’t give’a shit about it.”

Emma tried to cover one of Roland’s ears. The other one was pressed against Killian, so she couldn’t really do anything about that. “Does he think you haven’t been quoted—like, all off-season?” “The ultimate idiot,” Killian grinned. 

“Is this over yet?” Will demanded. “I’d like to know when I can boo without threat of interruption.”

Belle kissed his cheek. 

While Ruby mumbled curses under her breath, all too aware of just how many people had asked about the Cup run and would keep asking about the Cup run and her job was not going to get any easier if the professional hockey players in that restaurant refused to answer questions all season.

“Nothing that happened last year means anything this year,” Arthur said, but it was starting to sound a bit like a proclamation or maybe an affirmation, and Emma was terrible at yoga. Never had enough patience for it. “So we are playing for something brand-new, and you better not start by screwing it all up on Thursday.” He nodded once. Glanced around because Emma knew he was waiting for some sort of reaction, but the only reaction he got was Will’s promised boo, and that was more than Arthur deserved. Especially when he knocked over the chair while getting down. 

“Tell me he’ll be better with fans,” Emma said, and Killian had to shift Roland, but then he was the one doing the cheek kissing, and the quiet guarantee of absolutely, love was nice until he added—

“Can totally beat him up if he’s not.” “You’re a violent guy, Cap.”

Nosing at the side of her jaw did not impress Roland at all. Fair, really — but then Roland was on the same counter as Ariel, her sliding down the makeshift wood to get an arm around him and her phone already out and ringing, and Will stopped boo’ing. 

To announce, in no uncertain terms, “It’s time! Leader better not screw things up, or I’ll walk to Colorado and kick him in the shins.”

“What a threat.” Robin groaned, but his phone was making noise too, and neither Elsa nor Liam were doing a very good job of sharing space in the frame. Anna was waving with both her hands, already talking a mile a minute with her sister and they were all wearing team-branded merchandise, as the ritual dictated, but this also felt like the first legitimate time Emma was part of the ritual and all three Vankald and/or Jones faces beamed when they noticed her. 

“A,” Will sighed, “you’re supposed to tell us before the taxi squad gets on the call. Then we can prepare and we don’t have to go through this every year.” Anna’s eyes noticeably thinned. “What is this, exactly?” “The gossip wheel you’ve got to run through before we can—” “—Emma’s wearing KJ’s number again!” “We live together Banana,” Killian reasoned, and the jump in Emma’s stomach was undeniable and even more uncalled for. She also hoped she didn’t mess up the ritual. 

“Still.” “Expand on that for me.” Will might have snarled. “We do not have time for this.”

“Are you an actual adult participating in this situation?” Ariel challenged. “Because I am not getting that right now.” Careful to stay out of Regina’s eye line and certain that Roland was at least momentarily distracted by another plate of onion rings, both of Will’s hands moved when he flashed specific fingers. Ariel nearly fell off the counter, she laughed so hard. 

Elsa and Anna were absolutely having their own conversation. 

And Killian kissed Emma’s hair that time. 

“Also,” Elsa added, “should we be collectively annoyed by the taxi squad marker? That’s kind of—” Her voice dropped “A dick move, right?” “You’re a picture of parental responsibility, El,” Killian said. “Buy new clothes.” “See,” Regina cried, arms thrust nearly above her head in what wasn’t quite celebration but might have simply been her innate desire to be right at all times. “Liam, you’re going to have to say something different now, you realize that?” None of them had, quite clearly. Soft gasps and quiet oh’s echoed around their spot at the end of the bar, but Liam’s chin was doing something as well. So maybe it was just genetic. Jutting out, the confidence practically dripped off him, which would have been a disgusting thought in any other situation, but there was something to be said for constants and stability, and not one of them had so much as thought the phrase back to back all offseason. 

“Your lack of belief is disappointing, Gina.” “I’m just covering our bases.” “Wrong sport,” Liam laughed, grabbing the stick that had been leaning just out of frame and it took some finagling to hold it out in front of him. Without also knocking the phone over. He nearly knocked the phone over three different times. 

Elsa pinched the bridge of her nose. “Alright,” Liam started, and Emma didn’t think she imagined the way Killian stood up a bit straighter. Robin and Will, too. “Wait, wait, shit, sorry Rol—no, but how many years is this?” “Oh my God,” Ariel grumbled. “This is kind of messing it up.” “Leader, do you not know how to do math?” Will shouted, grabbing more than one of Roland’s onion rings. Like he needed something to occupy his hands with. 

Blotches of color appeared on Liam’s face, Elsa’s head shaking back and forth now while several different grown adults tried to do the most basic math problem, and no one else heard Killian at first. Emma did. Presumably, because she was almost standing on his sneakers. 

His arm was back around her waist. “Nine years,” he repeated. 

Liam hummed. “Yeah, yeah, that’s right.” “I know it is.” Nothing about those words was enough to immediately catch Emma short, but the fingers pressed against her might have started pulling on her shirt ever so slightly and whatever look Elsa and Anna shared as soon as she circled her arms around Killian’s middle wasn’t important. Now, at least. Emma had every intention of getting them to give up whatever they knew later. 

They definitely knew something. 

She’d worry about that after the home opener. “Alright, alright, alright,” Liam chanted, the stick back up and Will’s salute lacked any sort of legitimate respect. “Nine years ago now, we all stumbled back into this stupid city and laced up skates and tripped over ourselves on the ice.” He had to glance down. Reading it off an index card, then. Emma’s heart gave a small, but sure tumble in her chest. “And we were God awful. Terrible. Embarrassingly bad. But, as with most things, we figured it out. We stopped tripping over that giant emblem at center ice and we didn’t stutter during post and we actually started scoring goals.”

The stick was starting to shake. Retirement affected forearm strength, it seemed. 

“And we inexplicably won a first-round series and made the backpages of tabloids and then something kind of incredible happened.” Emma waited for the tension, for the sound of Killian’s knuckles cracking, or the exchange glances between Robin and Will. None of it came. It was stupid to think it would. And Liam was far from done. “Down two games in Pitt—” “—Oh my God,” Ruby hissed, “who calls it Pitt?” Liam ignored her. “A two-game hole, and totally fu—messed up media in Los Angeles, but none of that mattered because you guys kept scoring goals and the entire Kings organization is a black hole of talentless idiots.” “This is scathing, Leader,” Will said, “truly. Did you practice this?” “Yes,” Elsa said before Liam could open his mouth again, and Emma’s neck was going to give up sooner rather than later. Emotions twisted between the muscles there, another weight that somehow made it easier to breathe, like they had anything to do with her lungs, but none of her cared and all of her wanted. This, specifically. “There’s more though, Scarlet. Stop interrupting.” He saluted again. 

“Getting everything you wanted’s kind of a weird thing to wrap your head around, but that’s because this isn’t everything. Not yet. Somehow you guys are still capable of scoring goals and—y’know, your quotes leave a little to be desired.” “Here, here,” Ruby murmured. 

Liam might have been the best at glaring. Like, out of all of them. “But that just means the pressure’s on. Vankald cliché requirement; patent pending.” None of the boos that garnered had much bite to them. “Keeping the tradition alive is half the fun of hockey, this dumb sport with weapons on our feet and in our hands and it’s up to you guys. All over again. Start of the season, fresh slate, knowing you can do it because you already have. You ready, Rol?”

Roland nodded more than once, enthusiasm in every jerk of his head. “To the Cup,” he shouted. 

“To the Cup,” the crowd repeated, not much enunciation between the lot of them when both of the phones had a slight delay and there was a baby crying in Colorado. Still, neither Elsa nor Liam moved and the shot glasses Eric put down were rather quickly grabbed. So as to avoid Arthur’s ire. 

Alcohol burned the back of Emma’s mouth as soon as she tilted her head, shivering against the strength of whatever it was she just drank. If she cried, she was going to be really annoyed with herself. 

And the restaurant never got too loud, or too warm, but Emma’s heart stayed at its above-average rate for the next two hours, making the prospect of walking out the door and standing at the edge of the sidewalk all the more appealing. Especially when she remembered how—

It took him two minutes to follow her. Give or take. 

“Feels like we’re in a time warp,” Killian said, leaning against the side of the restaurant while Emma desperately tried to temper her own emotions and she had more emotions than she knew one person could be capable of containing. 

“No dancing, though.” “Banana and I went to a midnight showing of that on Halloween once.” “Seriously?” “Mmmhm. Have I mentioned that I am ridiculously in love with you yet, today?” Her head fell. Neck finally giving up, Emma’s cheek twisted on top of Killian’s shoulder, and his sweater, and if there was a quota for kisses pressed to the crown of her head, he was certainly trying to reach it. Competitive weirdo. “I don’t think so.” “Idiotic.” “Eh, we’ve been busy.” “I love you,” he said, and she smiled. Wide and easy and so goddamn happy, it only occasionally felt like a massive joke. And it still wasn’t enough. As selfish as that might have been, but Liam was definitely right and this wasn’t the end, might have just been another point on a circle and hints of wholly enjoyable déjà vu. “Is this the part where we talk about dating some guy on a team?” Left eyebrow, that time. Perfectly arched while his ability to smirk continued to infuriate Emma just a little, whatever sound she made when he ducked his head and caught her lips somewhere between joy and laughter and the seemingly perpetual talent to make her swoon wherever she was standing. 

They’d definitely gotten better at kissing in the last year. 

A fact Emma had every intention of pointing out — once she was done sticking her tongue in Killian’s mouth. Or trying to get her fingers under his sweater, his soft hiss at the lack of temperature in her fingertips some kind of victory she’d think about until the home opener and possibly until the All-Star break, and the overall arch of her back wasn’t particularly comfortable. But then her hips bumped Killian’s and that drew another sound and made champagne bubbles of the far more metaphorical variety explode in the general vicinity of her heart. 

One of her feet left the ground, not doing much to help her balance, but Emma had already spent too long considering the pros and cons of balance and she scratched at the back of Killian’s head. When her back pressed into the wall, threatening to scratch through her jersey and his fingers weren’t as cold as hers, because he might have just exuded heat, which likely wasn’t a sign and she wanted it to be a sign and—

“I love you,” Emma breathed, harder than she wanted. The force of his answering smile could have melted ice. In several prominent arenas across North America. 

“You worried?” “Very vague question.” “Swan.” “No,” she said, pleased to realize she meant all three letters. With just about everything in her. “Coming out here was—” “—We could have just made out in the restaurant.” “Pushing me up against a wall probably would have gotten us kicked out.” “Which would have led us here and then home, so,” Killian shrugged, “I fail to see the problem.” “You want to go home?” His eyes closed. His smile didn’t waver. Just pressed into the side of Emma’s neck and under her jaw, scruff, and strands of hair that were a little longer than they’d been last season, and she felt him inhale. Like he was trying to breathe her in, or possibly them. The specifics didn’t matter. They were something of a package deal now, anyway.

“Did you cop this jersey from equipment?” Leaning back was impossible with the wall behind her, but Emma was something of a glutton for emotions now and inherently greedy. Killian’s eyes noticeably darkened when she moved her tongue. Directly across her teeth. “Nah, I own this.” The thump of his forehead falling to her shoulder was the most satisfying sound she’d heard in two weeks. Bar none. 

“We’re leaving now,” Killian said. “Now.”

“You don’t want to—” Lacing his fingers through hers, he didn’t quite tug her back down the alley, but it was awfully close and Emma was glad she’d thought to bring her phone with her. “They’ll figure it out.”

She hoped they did. 

Checking her phone was somewhere near the bottom of the list she had absolutely no intention of making that night, opting instead to leave a trail of clothes back to their room and she couldn’t wear the jersey to the game. They made out in the hallway outside the visitor’s locker room, though. So Emma figured it something of a wash; and the first win of the season. 

[nanowebster]

Mold in Apartment? Your Symptoms Could be from Exposure to Mold

Mold In Apartment

Moving day in West LA. My last day in an apartment I had called home for over three years. I had everything packed, cleaned, and ready to go!

Just one more thing I needed to do before leaving: A walk-through of the apartment with the landlord.

He started the inspection and everything was looking great. I was about to get my whole security deposit back! He stopped in the hallway though. He opened up a closet (I rarely ever opened) that stored the water-heater. Water was leaking out of the heater, causing rust. The paint on the wall was ‘puffed up’, usually an indicator of mold growing underneath.

On my last day in that apartment, I discovered a serious mold issue. For most of my time there, I had been living with mold.

The landlord was gracious and did not knock anything off my security deposit. The leak in the water-heater was small. He said he was renovating the unit anyway.

This was not the first time I had found mold in that apartment though. Walls, ceilings, clothing stored away long-term, all had mold at one time.

This may explain some of the health conditions and symptoms I experienced during my time in that apartment. My exposure to mold in apartments has been a wake-up call. I have learned so much and want to share with you ways to address this problem.

Mold in apartment units is common in areas of the United States with high humidity or rain. The US South and Pacific Northwest experience mold problems on a regular basis. Many older apartment buildings were built in a way and with materials that make them susceptible to mold.

The apartment I was living at in West LA is made mostly of concrete and was built in the 1950s. The back corners of the two-bedroom apartment received very little sunshine and airflow. The stagnant air and coastal moisture of West Los Angeles allowed preferable conditions for mold and mildew growth.

If there is mold growing in your apartment this means there is excess moisture. Mold and mildew need a damp environment to grow. You need to be aware of every corner of your living space. Even hard-to-reach and out-of-sight nooks and crannies. These areas are where mold generally grows best. Dark and moist, with minimal airflow.

Mold and other microbes common in apartment buildings can have adverse effects on your health. Mild to severe symptoms can appear from mold exposure. These health effects are largely reactions to toxins the mold or bacteria create as a biological function. Microbes make these toxins for their protection, but we humans can be greatly irritated by their presence.

Mold In Apartment Symptoms

The symptoms of mold in an apartment are varied and many. Many of these symptoms may be caused by other environmental factors - pollution, seasonal allergies, and stress.

Many people discover their mold allergy by eliminating other causes of symptoms. Upon ruling out any other cause for their symptoms, one can determine if they may be from exposure to mold in an apartment.

Many people who experience mold in their apartment report these symptoms:

Chronic sinus congestion. Coughing. Shortness of breath.

Skin irritation. From itching to rash.

Fatigue. Weakness. Drowsiness. Low energy.

Muscle aches. Cramps. Unusual shooting pains.

Cognitive impairment. Confusion. Memory loss. ’Brain fog’. Trouble concentration and speech.

Strong Headaches. Often confused with a migraine.

Sensitivity to bright light. Tearing and watery eyes. Blurred vision. Redness in and around eyes.

Abdominal pain, sensitive stomach, diarrhea.

Joint pain. Stiffness.

Mood swings. Appetite swings. Sweats, often at night. Temperature regulation.

Numbness. Body tingling,

Excessive thirst. Frequent urination. Sensitivity to static.

In my experience, at the apartment in West LA, I had the following symptoms:

Trouble concentrating and staying focused on tasks.

Fatigue and drowsiness.

Shooting pains in legs or arms.

Mold, mildew, and bacteria can cause illness on their own, but many also contain toxic chemicals. These biological chemicals they make naturally can have adverse side effects on human health. Not only to our body but our minds.

These are the various types of toxins mold and mildew may contain:

Mycotoxins. Toxins produced by fungi and mold. Allergic reactions, trouble breathing, drowsiness are caused by mycotoxins.

Neurotoxins. Toxins that have an effect on mental function. Confusion, headaches, hallucinations have been some of the symptoms reported from neurotoxins.

Biotoxins. A general term for any toxin created by biological organisms.

‘Microtoxins’. A new term I see more and more. Refers to any microbe toxin created by microscopic or ‘invisible’ organisms.

Areas to Check for Mold in Apartments

Mold can appear anywhere in an apartment. Many molds and mildews can be detected by the classic ‘musty smell’ from old homes or by thorough cleaning to uncover mold problem areas.

The main areas of concern for mold in apartments are as follows:

Windows. Especially during rain or high humidity. Condensation is perfect for mold and mildew growth. Keep windows and window sills clean and dry.

Sinks and drawers. Particularly below and under sinks and drawers. Areas of moisture, low airflow, and low light are suitable for molds.

Closets and storage. Dark and minimal airflow make closets a comfortable spot for mold and mildew. Clothing fibers are a food source and a good substrate for growth.

Bathrooms. Due to the presence of water, showers, tiles, grout lines, and curtains are perfect homes for mold. Ceilings of bathrooms tend to grow mold from excess moisture as well.

Leaking Ceiling in Apartment. In lower and ground floor apartment units, water leaking from the ceiling can be an opportunity for mold to thrive. Keep an eye out for excess moisture, discoloration, staining, and ‘puffiness’ that indicates mold growth.

The type of mold you find in your home will determine the severity of health concerns. For example, black mold is well-known for being poisonous and should be addressed with urgency. Others may just give off unpleasant odors or create unsightly stains.

There are countless types of mold. You need to know about the major types of mold in homes. These are the most common types of mold in apartment units:

Stachybotrys ‘Black Mold’

Aspergillus

Chaetomium

Penicillin

Cladosporium

Acremonium

Fusarium

Trichoderma

Ulocladium

To accurately identify mold in your apartment or home, a professional inspection is the best way to know. I am no biologist or doctor, so my advice is just that: advice. Please contact a local specialist to get the best counsel for your situation.

Tenants Rights / Landlord Responsibility for Mold in Apartment

There are laws, at least here in California, that protect tenants from mold in apartments. In California, landlords must follow an ‘implied warranty of habitability. This requires them to provide livable conditions to tenants. California also has a mold disclosure requirement landlords need to follow if their units meet unsafe levels. When deemed uninhabitable due to an outstanding mold problem, tenants may take several courses of action.

Withhold Rent Payments. By claiming the apartment unit is uninhabitable due to mold, tenants in California may be protected from legal actions by landlords for refusing to pay rent.

Repair and Deduct from Rent. Repairing the conditions yourself and taking the expenses of the repairs out of your rent.

If you choose to pursue any of these actions to address a mold issue, I recommend you seek legal counsel beforehand. Laws vary state by state, even city by city.

Mold in your apartment? You need to take action

If you have found mold in your apartment, do not panic. There are steps you can take to protect yourself. Ultimately, you have a few options to address the issue of mold in your apartment.

Know Your Rights. You will save a lot of time and headache knowing what you are responsible for and what your landlord needs to do to address mold in an apartment.

Seek Professional Help. For inspection, cleaning, and remediation, an expert is hands down the best way to address any mold issue. For legal advice and handling landlords, a lawyer is the option to navigate the legal issues. Professional experts will be able to help you make the best decision for your situation.

Do-It-Yourself. Do what you can to clean and prevent mold in your apartment. Preventing mold before it appears will save you a lot of time, work, and money. Communication and talking to your landlord about the issue are essential, even if your landlord does not help solve the issue. But chances are they will help address the issue. So let them know as soon as you know.

Move Out. Find another home without mold. This is not always the easiest option. But when a mold issue is too large to address or a landlord is refusing to help, moving may be the quickest solution to the problem.

As I have moved out of that apartment, I have noticed a change in my symptoms. I do have less brain fog and I feel more clearheaded day to day. I now live in an area with more fresh air and natural light.

I have gained a newfound awareness of mold and mycotoxins. For any apartment I live in or home I buy, I will always keep my eyes peeled for mold problems. If you find an apartment that has mold issues, assess whether it is worth the cost on your health and well-being.

For some parts of the US, mold is inevitable. This does not mean you should ignore the problem and take measures to mitigate and prevent mold.

Hope this was informative and helpful. Please contact me for more info. I’m happy to share any local resources I have accumulated and educational resources to learn about mold and microbes.

Thank you!

[sojourner-between-worlds]

Merry Band of Misfits

Fandom: Alex Rider/ Hawaii Five-0

Summary: After an incident, child services questions whether Steve is truly a good fit for Alex. Steve won’t stand for Alex being taken from him of course, and Danny is right there with him.

A/N: This started out as a little angst, a little comfort, and a whole lot of cheese, but somehow it turned into a little cheese, probably a lot of inaccuracy of how the system works, and a ton of angst sprinkled with comfort. What ya gonna do, tho, lol.

. . . .

They were still chasing their suspect through the crowded outdoor market when Steve’s phone vibrated incessantly in his pocket for the third time. His mind immediately jumped to Alex, wondering if he was okay, but he couldn’t exactly answer at the moment. Ready to be done with this chase and praying the call wasn’t anything too serious, he jumped up onto a low, narrow wall. Now moving faster than the man attempting to push his way through, it took less than a minute to catch up. Launching himself off the wall, Steve tackled the man to the ground.

“Oh, just give it up,” Steve grumbled at the still-struggling man underneath him as he wrenched the suspect’s arms around and zip-tied his wrists together. He pulled the man back up to his feet as the rest of his team finally caught up. “Book ‘im, Danno.”

After they had pushed their way back out of the market, Steve finally fished his phone out of his pocket.

3 Missed Calls - Kapi’olani Medical Center

He stopped dead in his tracks, heart in his throat, as he played back the voicemail they’d left for him. It didn’t give him much to go on, unfortunately, but since the woman had introduced herself as a child advocate with the hospital, that didn’t bode well. He didn’t hesitate to call her back.

The other end rang twice before the same woman who left the message, Alana Kelekolio, answered.

“Yeah, this is Commander McGarrett. You called about Alex? Is everything okay?”

. . .

As Steve stormed into the office, he didn’t fail to notice the two people in the room who were clearly not medical staff, but for the moment he ignored them, opting to head straight for Alex, who had stood up as he had entered.

“Hey, you all right, kiddo?” Steve asked, wrapping him in a hug.

“Shoulder hurts, but otherwise I’m fine.”

Steve snorted. “Yeah, that happens when you dislocate it. What happened?”

Alex shrugged his good shoulder. “Got my feet tangled up with Nathan’s fighting for the ball during practice and fell.”

“Yeah, you might need to spice that story up a bit before you tell it to anyone else.” That comment finally pulled a small smile out of the teen as Steve turned to address the other two people in the room. “So we’re good to go then?”

“Not quite, Commander.” A man Steve vaguely recognized as Alex’s social worker stood up and stepped forward. He’d been by the house a handful of times, but Steve honestly had a hard time remembering his name; he didn’t leave much of an impression. Robert something, maybe? Robert Kent? That sounded right. “If I could have a word with you alone?” he asked, gesturing towards the door.

Once they had stepped out and the door had clicked shut behind them, Robert continued. “This is negligence at best, Commander.”

“What do you mean?”

“You are Alex’s only emergency contact.”

“Yes, and here I am. So what?”

“The only reason I am here is because the hospital couldn’t get a hold of you.”

“I was literally in the middle of chasing a human trafficker through Chinatown. What was I supposed to do, huh? Ask him to wait while I answer my phone?”

“And that is exactly why Alex’s case is going to be reviewed.”

For the second time in an hour, Steve felt his heart jump into his throat. “What does that mean?”

“It means I think someone was a little quick to hand you Alex’s custody, so there is going to be some careful thought as to if this is really the best situation for Alex.”

. . .

“I could have punched him, Danny. Was it oversight on my part? Yes, I’ll admit that it was. Initially I wasn’t sure who else to put down since chances are if they can’t get me then they wouldn’t be able to get any of you guys either. So I put it off -- a little too long evidently -- but reviewing his case over that?”

Danny sat quietly, watching as Steve paced, waiting for him to finish.

“I mean, isn’t that a little extreme? Especially coming from a guy who talks to Alex for maybe ten minutes in a month. He doesn’t know anything.” Steve stopped with his back to Danny, a long sigh escaping. “He’s finally starting to settle a little and they’re about to take all of the progress he’s made away.”

“That does seem like a little much,” Danny sighed when it seemed like Steve was done. “Especially for something that’s a quick fix. Did he tell you how soon they’d make a decision?”

“End of the week.” Steve plopped down into one of the chairs opposite Danny’s desk, rubbing wearily at his temples.

Danny nodded. “Okay. I’m assuming you plan to fight this if they decide to pull him, right?”

“You have to ask?”

“If it comes to that, you know I’ll do whatever I can to help. I’ve got your back, babe.”

Some of the tension bled out of Steve’s shoulders at Danny’s words. “I know. I know you do. Thank you.”

. . .

Alex stopped at the end of the driveway, staring at Steve’s truck with a frown. They’d left at the same time that morning so Alex knew Steve had driven himself to work. If it was here, that meant Steve was home already -- very, very early.

Which likely meant something was wrong.

He parked his bike next to the garage and went inside to find Steve sitting on the couch, elbows on his knees, chin resting on his clasped hands, face pensive.

Steve dropped his hands, face softening slightly, when he noticed Alex. “Hey.”

“You’re home early, which is never a good thing. What’s wrong?”

Sighing deeply, Steve motioned to the spot next to him on the couch.

Alex dropped his bag onto the stairs and sat down.

“I already tipped you off, so I’ll just get right to the point. You -uh, you remember on Tuesday when you got hurt at practice?”

“Hard to forget. Go on.”

“The hospital called in child services when they couldn’t get me right away, and that made them...less than happy.”

Alex’s stomach dropped. When he spoke, the words didn’t feel like they were coming from his own mouth. “They’re taking me away, aren’t they?”

Steve sighed again. “They want to, but I’m not letting that happen without a fight. I told you from the start that I’m not gonna leave you on your own, and I meant it -- I still mean it. I have a hearing with a family court judge in a few weeks to decide the final verdict.” He wrapped an arm around Alex’s shoulders, and the teen easily melted into his side. “I’m not going to let them take you, Alex. Okay?”

“Okay. I trust you.”

As true as those words were, they still felt hollow on Alex’s tongue. He wanted to believe them but he knew it wasn’t as simply as that either. No matter how much faith he had in Steve, they could still take him away.

And there would be nothing either of them could do about it.

. . .

The hearing was not going well and Danny knew it. Robert Kent seemed bent on removing Alex from Steve’s custody and was bringing up every even slightly questionable thing Steve had ever done, whether it related to Alex’s care or not.

And Danny was done listening.

“And furthermore, it was clearly negligence on Commander McGarrett’s part in failing to list a second emergency contact.”

“Your Honor, I’m sorry to interrupt, but to be honest, none of this is in any way relevant.”

“Detective Williams, this is not your forum, and I do believe I am perfectly capable of determining what is relevant and what is not.”

“Yes, I am aware of that, and I apologize -- I really do -- but if I may, I have something I need to say.”

“I do believe you will already be giving a statement.”

“I will be, but this has nothing to do with what I’ve planned to say, your Honor.”

The judge was silent for a moment before saying. “I’ll allow it, but keep it brief, Detective.”

“Your Honor, with all due respect, if you allow Alex to be taken from Commander McGarrett’s custody based only on what you have heard so far, then you will be making a huge mistake.” He paused, taking a deep breath. Steve was either going to hug him or kill him for this later. “I’ve known Commander McGarrett for a long time now, and I will be the first to admit that I hated his guts back then. I thought he was completely irresponsible and reckless. But here’s the thing: he’s downright terrible at first impressions. So forget the bad first impression you’ve been given here so far today because what you are probably thinking is exactly what I thought, too. But the fact of the matter is, your Honor, that I trust him with my life and, moreover, with the lives of my own children.

“See, first impressions don’t tell you everything about a person. My first impression didn’t tell me that his guy was going to give me a place to belong in a place that I hated and a family in a place where I had no one.

“If the other members of Five-0 could be here right now, I know they’d say the same because Steve McGarrett likes to fix broken things. He has again and again taken the outcasts and the misfits and given them a place to call home. All of us at Five-0 are a family.

“And Alex is part of that family now, too.”

Danny paused; he’d been told to keep it short and he was sure he’d already talked longer than the judge wanted, but he hadn’t been stopped yet either.

“Right now, Mr Kent is trying to tell you from a collection of ‘first impressions’ why Commander McGarrett is unfit to be a parent, so allow me to tell you why Mr Kent is dead wrong.

“In the past eleven months, Alex has gone from withdrawn and emotionally volatile to outgoing and emotionally stable -- as stable as any teenager can be, anyway. In the first three months alone Alex was diagnosed with PTSD, properly medicated to help mitigate symptoms, and started in therapy -- all things that should have happened much sooner but were easily overlooked as he was written off as a ‘problem child’ and quickly passed around between homes like he didn’t matter -- and maybe to those people, he didn’t.

“But therein lies the fundamental differences between everyone else Alex has been placed with and Commander McGarrett: instead of calling Alex the problem, he addressed the problems Alex had, and -- maybe even more importantly -- he has never once even considered giving up on Alex.

“Commander McGarrett may not be the perfect parent, but he is a good one, and he does genuinely care about Alex’s well-being and wants the best for him. One oversight that is easily corrected -- because make no mistake, that’s the real reason why we’re here right now -- should not detract from all the good that has already happened -- and it has happened, your Honor; I’ve witnessed it myself. And that is how I can say with absolute confidence, your Honor, that if you allow this to happen, you will be making a huge mistake.”

Danny sat back down in the eerily quiet courtroom.

The judge cleared her throat. “Thank you, Detective Williams. Your words will be taken into consideration.”

. . .

Alex couldn’t concentrate, plain and simple. Steve had offered to let him stay home from school but Alex had declined, thinking it would be a good distraction. But it wasn’t, and he was seriously considering going to the office and signing himself out for the day. His anxiety was the worst it had been in months so he doubted they would make him stay, but would it really be any better if he went home? He doubted it. So at school he would stay for the long four hours that still remained.

Maybe.

He really wasn’t sold on the idea.

(But, again, being home alone probably wasn’t the best idea either, but those were his only two options.)

He forced himself to take a couple of deep breaths; having a panic attack in the middle of World History would not do.

Somehow he made it through the rest of the class and to lunch, skipping the line and heading straight to his usual table, folding his arms and resting his head on them. Maybe if he could close his eyes and focus on his breathing for a minute then his stomach would dislodge itself from his throat and go back to where it belonged.

“Alex?” The clunk of a tray against the table and the thud of a bad against the floor accompanied the voice.

“Hm?”

“Maybe you should go home, man.”

“‘M fine.”

“Yup. That’s very convincing.”

Alex took a breath and raised his head just enough to glare at his friend. “I’m fine, Koa.”

“Ya know, I actually have to agree with him for once,” Nathan said as he slid into the seat next Koa. “You really don’t look good, man.”

Letting his head thump back down, Alex muttered, “It’s just anxiety. It’s nothing.”

A pause, then, “Alex. Go home. I’m serious.”

Alex knew they were right, but… He pushed himself all the way up, meeting their concerned gazes. “I really don’t want to be alone so school is the better option right now.”

Koa shrugged. “Then call Commander McGarrett.”

“Can’t. He’s in court right now, and I don’t know when he’ll be out.”

As if on cue, his phone vibrated in his pocket with a text from Steve.

Steve McGarrett: Hearing’s over. They’ll call with the decision sometime this evening. Are you doing okay?

Alex sighed in relief; Steve always seemed to know when he was struggling and Alex didn’t feel guilty about admitting it if someone asked first as opposed to him just saying it.

Alex Rider: Honestly not really. Steve McGarrett: Omw

“He’s coming to get you, isn’t he.” It wasn’t a question.

Alex nodded. “Yeah. I’m just...gonna head to the office then. See you guys tomorrow.”

“No, you won’t.”

Alex glanced at Nathan as he stood up. “What?”

“No school? It’s Thanksgiving.”

Alex stared blankly for a moment. “Oh. Right. Forgot. Uhm, Monday -- I’ll see you Monday.” I hope.

By the time he got to the office, Steve was already there, still in his dress blues from the hearing, and it took Alex a minute to realize that Steve must have been headed this way to get him already even as he’d texted.

“So how’d it go?” Alex asked as he settled into the passenger seat of the truck.

Steve let out a heavy sigh. “Well, not as good as I’d been hoping, honestly, but not horribly either. We’ve still got a shot.” He paused, shifting into drive and pulling away from the curb. “So what would you like to do with this suddenly school-free afternoon?”

Alex shrugged, worrying his bottom lip. His anxiety was still through the roof so he honestly didn’t want to do much of anything.

“Did you eat?”

Busted. Once again, Steve always seemed to know. Swallowing around the lump in his throat, he shook his head, stomach still rather queasy.

Expression full of understanding, Steve nodded once. “Okay. I want you to try when we get home though, all right?”

Alex took a deep breath. “No promises on success.”

“That’s okay. Just try.”

“Okay.”

The rest of the ride was relatively silent apart from Steve assuring him that he didn’t need to worry about school or homework, that they would just relax until they had news. 

Once home, Alex changed from jeans to sweats; no need to be anything less than completely comfortable all things considered. Alex sat down on his bed, listening as Steve went down to the kitchen to find something for them both to eat. Simultaneously exhausted and restless, he honestly didn’t know if he’d rather take a nap or run a marathon. His breathing hitched, and he tried to push everything he was feeling into nice, neat compartments. He knew he shouldn’t, that he should just get it over with and deal with it now, but if he could shove it away for only a few more hours, then he wouldn’t have to deal with it at all. (Because in a few hours they would get word that he was staying -- he would be -- because if he wasn’t, he didn’t know what he would do.)

Calloused hands gently pried his apart, and as Alex’s eyes slowly focused on where Steve knelt in front of him, he wondered when the man had even come in. How long had he been sitting here that Steve had had to come up to get him?

“Oh, kid.”

Those two words were all it took to open the floodgates. An ugly, hysterical sob tore out at the same time Steve pulled him into a hug.

Alex wasn’t sure how long they sat there before the knot in his chest eased and the sobs pettered off into hiccups, but he did know that he didn’t feel any better. Wasn’t that what was supposed to happen? But he didn’t, exhaustion settling even thicker in his bones, his stomach still uncomfortably lodged in his throat. If anything, he only felt worse.

“How are you feeling, buddy? Any better?”

“Not really.”

Steve hummed in thought before he said, “Why don’t you come lay down on the couch and watch a movie with me, and we can go from there. Okay?”

He didn’t want to move, but lying down definitely sounded nice. “‘Kay.”

Steve took one corner of the couch, and Alex curled up next to him, head on the man’s thigh. Some Disney movie played quietly on the TV, but Alex wasn’t really paying attention. Time seemed to drag on; it could have been hours or only minutes before Steve asked if he was feeling up to eating. Alex could only shake his head in response and, strangely enough, Steve didn’t push it.

Then finally -- finally -- Steve’s phone vibrated with an incoming call. Glancing at the ID displayed on the screen, Steve murmured, “This is them,” before picking up. “Steve McGarrett.”

Alex sat up. He had thought he’d feel something when the call came, but all he felt was numb.

After a moment, Steve said, “Thank you very much for calling.” As soon as he’d set his phone down, he turned to Alex and wrapped him in a hug. “Remind me to thank Danny by picking up his tab at Side Street next time. Looks like you’re stuck with me for a little bit longer, buddy.”

It took a moment longer than it should have for the meaning of those words to register, but when they did, Alex almost felt like crying all over again. Instead he tightened his grip and breathed for what felt like the first time in weeks. He couldn’t help but think that maybe Steve really had been telling him the truth all along, that maybe it would actually be true this time.

Maybe he really would never have to be alone again.

. . .

“So, a little birdy named Lou told me you might be needing someone as a second emergency contact for Alex,” Renee commented as she mixed up a salad at the counter. “If you haven’t figured someone else out already, you can always put me down, you know; I don’t mind.”

“Really?” Steve asked, glancing up from the pan he’d just pulled from the oven. “I hadn’t figured that out yet, so I’d really appreciate that actually.”

“Shoots, a sista beat me to it,” Kamekona said from the doorway. “I was gon’ offer, too.”

“As was I,” Max added as Steve turned the corner, carrying the turkey to the table. “Given my profession, I surmised it to be highly unlikely I would not be able to get away if called upon.”

“Great minds think alike,” Jerry piped up next. “I mean, I don’t exactly ever have anything I couldn’t step away from if you needed me, after all, and when I work with you guys I’m not really in the field for all the dangerous stuff, anyway.”

Danny laughed as he came out of the kitchen, carrying more dishes. “So, uh, you think child services will be happy now with that many numbers to choose from?”

Steve couldn’t help but chuckle. As Alex came up beside him, he threw an arm around the teen’s shoulders. “I’ve definitely got a lot to be thankful for his year, you know that? So, thank you, guys -- I mean that; it’s been quite a year and I couldn’t have done this without all of you.”

“You don’t need to thank us,” Chin replied with a smile. “We’re ohana; it’s what we do.”

“Yeah, if anything we should be thanking you,” Kono added. “None of us would be here right now without you.”

Steve looked around at the people he called family and realized that Danny had been only partially correct. He may have created a space for them all to belong, but he needed it just as much as everyone else did. They had rescued him just as much as he had rescued them.

A merry band of misfits -- maybe that was just how it was always meant to be.

. . . .

Tags: @diekatimitdemhutohnehut @just-add-butter