#because what i did was‚ basically‚ say to myself‚ okay fuck it how beyond fucking insane crazy levels of fucked up can i make jack

[doctorwhoisadhd]

i CANnot wait until my 12jack sequel fic is finished simply because the last scene is so fucking insane

[taeyongdoyoung]

good for you

summary: your boyfriend is literally perfect and treats you like a princess but you want him to completely lose control 😇 pairing: mingyu x reader genre: smut, tooth-rotting fluff warnings: established relationship, home intruder roleplay, consensual somnophilia, safeword exists but isn't used, rough sex, no lube, no protection, neck biting, size kink (no one is surprised), titty slapping, sir kink, spanking, praise+degradation, slight dumbification, subspace, pet names, shy dom gyu, crying, mentions of pee (non-sexual context), aftercare!!! word count: 1.7k

You and Mingyu have not been together for long but from what you know so far he’s the sweetest guy you’ve ever dated. He treats you like a princess, brings you flowers or chocolates with or without occasion, drives you around everywhere, gets stuff from the top shelf for you and is basically the kindest soul to ever step on this Earth. You are, of course, beyond grateful for that, and do your best to show him how much you appreciate him every chance you get.

However, a little demon inside your brain kind of wants him to not treat you as if you are made of glass all the time. While the sex is great and Mingyu makes sure that you reach an orgasm, you can’t help but fantasize about him going rough on you. Even when his friends tease (bully) him, he almost never uses his height and strength to his advantage, instead accepting everything with a good-natured smile.

But you would be lying if you said that the idea of him just snapping doesn’t excite you. Nevertheless, you are not sure how to bring this up to him. You don’t want to sound ungrateful or for him to feel insecure about his abilities because he’s perfect the way he is. It’s your filthy brain that needs fixing. Still, you decide that honesty is the key to a healthy relationship and you gather all your courage to approach him about this.

“Hey, Mingyu, can we talk about something?” you ask one evening after you two have finished having dinner.

His eyes are immediately filled with worry. Judging by the tone of your voice, this is something serious. So far, your relationship has been lighthearted and devoid of any problems. Mingyu thinks that it’s going great but apparently he’s been fooling himself.

“What’s wrong?” he wants to know. “You’re not breaking up with me, right?”

“What?! Of course not! Do you want to break up with me?” you panic.

“No, no, please,” Mingyu shakes his head fervently.

“Good, good,” you exhale in relief.

“So, what did you wanna talk about?”

“Um, it’s kinda embarrassing but I don’t want to keep any secrets from you.”

“Secrets?” Mingyu blinks in curiosity.

“Yeah…You know how you’re always super gentle with me, both outside and inside the bedroom?”

“Uh, sure? What about it?”

“Can you consider…not doing that all the time?”

“In what sense?” Mingyu raises his eyebrows in confusion.

“In the sense that…can you fuck me harder without holding yourself back? You’re not gonna break me, I promise.”

“Oh…” he finally realizes what you’re getting at. Because he doesn’t say anything rightaway, you hurry to explain.

“Not that I don’t like how sweet and patient you are with me! It’s more than amazing, I just thought that…maybe it’d be fun to try something new. If it’s not your thing, forget I mentioned it, I’m so-“

“It’s not that it doesn’t sound appealing. But I’m afraid that if I’m not holding myself back, I’ll end up hurting you,” Mingyu confesses, surprising you.

You reach your hand out across the table to hold his comfortingly.

“You won’t. I know how caring you are, Mingyu. Which is why I would trust you with something like this. Okay?”

“Okay,” he nods. “Did you have a particular scenario in mind or do you want me to surprise you?”

“Surprise me.”

Mingyu smirks sinisterly. Oh God. What kind of demon have you unleashed?

🎀🎀🎀

A few days later, you receive a text from Mingyu while you’re walking home.

Mingyu: Busy tonight?

You: All yours

Mingyu: Unlock your door at exactly 10pm and wait for me in your bed. If I’m not there by 10:30, lock it again, alright?

You: Yes, sir 🛐

Mingyu: That’s my good girl.

Fucking hell. Your heart flutters upon reading these words. He’s called you that before but in this context, it thrills you even more than usual.

Mingyu: Safeword is butterfly. Use it if something is too much, if you’re in pain or for any other reason that brings you discomfort, okay?

You: I’m gonna need a safeword?!?!

Mingyu: I hope it doesn’t come to that but just in case. See you in a couple of hours, baby.

You’re too excited for tonight. You take a long shower. You wear your prettiest lingerie and make your room as cozy as possible. Not that it matters. You spray perfume over your neck and wrists. You put on some lipbalm and mascara. You want to look good for him. But the truth is, you had an exhausting week and already feel sleepy. You unlock the door at 10pm, climb into your bed and…

Somehow you fall asleep. You feel disoriented as your consciousness is slowly returning to you. You feel too hot, too weak and too full. Fuck. What’s going on? You don’t dare to open your eyes for fear of ruining the sweeter than sleep reality.

“Dumb baby couldn’t wait for me and fell asleep all by herself?” Mingyu’s deep voice coos in your ear.

In your half-awake state you feel your boyfriend’s cock thrusting deep inside of you, taking you rougher than ever before. Well, you asked for it.

“So cute and helpless, leaving the door unlocked for anyone to enter and use you like a whore,” Mingyu murmurs.

He rubs your clit vigorously while still fucking into you, making you wetter than ever before.

“Nnghh,” you whimper drowsily.

“Shhh, baby, go back to sleep,” Mingyu whispers. “I’ll take care of you. You don’t have to think about anything.”

He squeezes your boobs, leaning down to bite your neck like a hungry wolf. And here, you thought your boyfriend was just a cute puppy.

“S-so big,” you cry out pitifully.

“You can take it, slut,” Mingyu says confidently.

You don’t offer a verbal response but your body speaks for itself. Mingyu is almost splitting you in two but your pussy is swallowing him up greedily.

“H-harder, p-please,” your mouth seems to have a mind of its own because it speaks against any common sense.

Mingyu slaps your tits, a little hesitant at first.

It stings but it’s such a sweet hurt you’re already addicted to it.

“Like this?” he asks, making sure it’s okay.

“M-more,” you beg, forgetting all inhibitions. “Use me.”

He does it a couple of more times, while still fucking you roughly. His dick is so enormous that you’re certain you’ll be sore tomorrow but it will be more than worth it. You lose count of how many times you’ve come around his cock. Sliding out and flipping you on your belly, he takes you from behind, too, spanking your ass and gripping your hair.

“Such a good girl, just for me, right? No one else gets to see you like this, yeah?” Mingyu’s words come out rushed, almost in trance.

“All yours, sir,” you promise.

Mingyu seems satisfied with your answer because he spills his seed inside of you seconds after. You follow his lead and eventually, your knees give out, your mind goes blank and you collapse on the bed.

“Baby?” Mingyu checks up on you worriedly.

You are not capable of responding, brain barely functioning anymore. He moves you gently to see your face. Your eyes are open but unblinking, which scares the shit out of him.

“Come back to me, my sweetheart, please,” Mingyu cries out, hugging you tightly.

A couple of moments later, you still don’t remember your own name but something more important to you leaves your lips:

“Mingyu?” you whisper cautiously.

“Oh, angel,” Mingyu sighs. “I’m right here.”

Then, you suddenly burst into tears. Overwhelmed by how good he made you feel and how much he cares about you, your emotions fully take over.

“What’s wrong, baby? Did I hurt you?” Mingyu positions you so that you are sitting on his knee and rocks you gently back and forth.

“N-no,” you shake your head. “I’m s-so happy.”

“You poor thing,” Mingyu chuckles softly. “Can’t believe you worked so hard to doll yourself up and make the room smell nice. You knew I was gonna ruin your lingerie anyway, didn’t you?”

“I just wanted to look good for you,” you admit with a pout.

“You always do. My best girl,” Mingyu kisses you sweetly and wraps you in his warm embrace, lulling you back to sleep.

🎀🎀🎀

The next morning, you wake up to the feeling of wanting to pee so badly. You manage to climb out of bed but barely make one step and trip on the ground. Uh oh. You got fucked so good you literally can’t walk.

Awakened by the loud thud, Mingyu is by your side in no time.

“What happened?”

“You happened,” you reply truthfully, but you don’t blame him because you brought this upon yourself.

“Oh…” Mingyu understands what you mean. “Did you want to use the toilet?”

“Uh, yeah. Gosh, this is so mortifying.”

You cover your face with your hands.

“I was literally deep inside of you a few hours ago, get over yourself,” Mingyu laughs and lifts you up effortlessly, carrying you to the bathroom.

“Are you gonna stare at me?!” you ask in embarrassment.

“Might as well,” he laughs but gives you some privacy, even though there is no need to be shy after all the things you’ve done together.

After that, he insists on doing everything for you. You tell him you are perfectly capable of brushing your own teeth but nope, Mingyu wants to do that, as well. And honestly? It feels too good to reject.

He even makes breakfast and brings it to bed so you can share it together. As you take the first bite and drink the first sip of coffee for the morning, the feelings come crashing once again. And you start crying even harder than last night.

“Oh, baby, what is it?” Mingyu wants to know, as he brushes your hair behind your ear and wipes your tears.

“N-nothing, you’re just so amazing and kind I feel extremely touched.”

“You do realize this is literally the bare minimum, right?” Mingyu seems shocked. He just made pancakes. It’s not some heroic act, in his humble opinion.

“It’s so rare to find a lovely guy like you, though,” you admit.

“Well, my good girl deserves only the best,” he smiles shyly and kisses your cheek.

You wrap your arms around his neck, grinning wider than ever before.

“Keep talking like that and I’ll want to be good for you forever.”

“I’m counting on it.”

The End

[ilongfor-the-arts]

A REQUEST FOR LIP PLEASEEE!! him getting hammered in a party then he calls you to rescue him or smth then you gotta drag him and drive him back home. he asks you sleep over and you stayed! thats basically my idea u can develop it however u like <333 can be fluff alone or added w a bit of spice🤭 but we’ll enjoy it nevertheless

Drunk Mind, Sober Heart

Pairing: Lip Gallagher x fem! Reader

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, angst (nothing happens bc Lip is drunk), dirty talk, language

Summary: *in req*

Word Count: 2.5k

An ear splitting noise startled me awake. I shot up, my eyes flinging open, only to discover that my bedroom was completely dark.

Was that my alarm?

No, there is no way in hell it was eight in the morning already.

I groaned in frustration and reached for my bedside table. As my eyes adjusted, I ran my palm along the smooth wood, my bedroom gradually coming into view. Unfortunately, my vision was not properly adjusted to perceive the small black box. My hand pushed a mysterious object, and a soft thud echoed.

“Shit!”

I exclaimed. I threw my torso off the bed and inspected the carpeted floor for my phone.

Whoever was calling me at this hour was gonna get it.

When I realized I didn't have much time before the call went to voicemail, I quickened my pace, grunting from the unexpected effort.

“Yes!”

The artificial glow burned into my retinas as I flipped the phone over to expose the screen. I was forced to squint so I could see who had the audacity to call me at such an inconvenient hour.

I rolled my eyes.

Of fucking course.

With a sour attitude, I accepted the call. I was miffed at Lip for ruining my perfect night of restful sleep.

“What? This better be good Lip, or I’m gonna be really pissed.”

I flopped onto the bed and fixed my gaze on the boring ceiling. On the other end of the line, there was a cacophony of voices and screams. It was so loud that it resembled a roar. To prevent going deaf, I moved the phone a few inches from my ear.

“Heyyyyyy Y/N. How are ya?”

Every syllable lacked clarity. Oh, come on, why did I have to be the one getting booty called tonight? I disregarded his inquiry and instead put forth my own.

“Lip, what time is it?”

I inquired in part to gauge his level of inebriation and in part because I was too sluggish to remove my phone from my ear to check the time.

“Uhhhh- that’s a great question.”

There was rustling from the other end of the line.

“It’s 9 oh 3.”

I cocked a brow.

“You sure about that?”

“Uh-hold on. Gimmie a sec.”

Rustling.

“Do you read from left to right or right to left?”

I couldn’t help but laugh. At the very least, this would make a good story in a few days after I recovered from my extreme sleep deprivation.

“Left to right, at least in English.”

“Okay, thanks. You’re so smart.”

Rustling.

“Okay, it’s 3 oh 9. Well… 3:10 now.”

I tried to shake the sleep from my brain by closing my eyes and gently kneading my soft eyelids.

“That’s just perfect. You do remember me saying I had an 8 am class today, right?”

“Yes I do. I just-I lost my phone, and yours is the-the only phone number I remember.”

He had never been this drunk before. Lip had a very high tolerance for alcohol. The number of drinks he must have consumed to get to this point is beyond my comprehension. His speech was becoming more slurred by the second, almost as if he were nodding off.

I completely ignored the fact that he used his phone to call me. He was comprehending very little at this moment.

“How many drinks have you had, Lip?”

Silence.

“Uh-that’s another great question…”

His voice trailed off. I sure hope he didn't doze off on me.

“Alright Lip, don’t fall asleep.”

I threw myself into a sitting position and switched on the bedside table lamp. The room instantly filled with bright light. My eyes watered. I squinted to accommodate the abrupt change.

“Where are you? I’ll come pick you up.”

I tucked the phone between my shoulder and ear as I reached down to put on my slippers.

“Uh-I don’t know the address.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Alright, well, can you give me any information that could help me find you?”

I stood, the phone pressed to my ear. I threw a light jacket over my shoulders to hide the fact that I wasn't wearing a bra.

“Uh-it’s down the street from an old gas station.”

I knew exactly where he was. There was only one party host who lived next to an old gas station.

“Are you at Christian’s house?”

“No. Well, actually, I don’t know.”

I walked to my front door, shaking my head in disbelief. I plucked my car keys from the wood tray by the door, twirling them between my fingers. The silence that engulfed my apartment complex was deafening compared to the soft jingle.

“I’ll come and get ya’. Just give me ten minutes. Don’t move a muscle.”

“Okay. I’ll be waitin’ for ya on the front lawn.”

“Perfect.”

I drove slowly, not in a hurry to arrive at Christian's house. Lip could handle himself when he was drunk. Sure, he said stupid shit at times, but if I truly believed he was a danger to himself, I would increase my urgency.

Not even a meek flicker of light could be seen in the windows of nearby houses. My car was engulfed in darkness. Everything was pitch black save for a few street lamps that did little to penetrate the gloom. The world was still and silent.

It reminded me of the twilight zone. I was imprisoned in an environment where time did not exist. I was alone. There were no people who could guide me. I was trapped.

That was the impression I had up until I arrived at Christian's house. The street was lined with parked cars. There were sober individuals mixed in with those who were stumbling drunk. Christian’s house was bursting at the seams. People could be seen congregating on the lawn, in the upper windows, shoving their way inside, and shoving their way out. I stopped my car in front of the grass. Sure enough, Lip was standing on the front lawn, gazing at the street with a blank stare.

I giggled. He looked lost.

I opened my car window and protruded my head outside.

“Lip Gallagher! Your chauffeur is here!”

I shouted sarcastically. My joke elicited a few giggles from various partygoers. A stupidly uneven smile appeared on Lip’s face as he awoke from his stupor.

“Oh hi, Y/N! I didn’t even know you were coming!”

“Get in Lip. I’m gonna take you home.”

Lip walked over, nearly tripping ten times in the short distance he had to cover. I laughed at his erratic behavior.

“You're gonna sit in the back, Lip?”

I caught a glimpse of him in the rearview mirror. His head was leaning against the headrest, and his eyes were closed. He looked serene. Lip jerked awake. His half lidded eyes hurriedly scanned the back of my car as if expecting company.

“Uh-no. I’ll sit in the front.”

I anticipated that he would exit the vehicle and move to the front seat. Instead, he launched himself over the center console.

“Jesus Lip!”

I exclaimed, a flurry of limbs obstructing my view. His body relaxed as he sank into the passenger seat.

“That’s better. It’s much more comfortable up here.”

I scoffed and decided not to participate in this pointless conversation.

Lip didn't speak once during the entire drive back to his apartment, which surprised me. His breathing evened out. I could only assume that he had dozed off. His head would softly crash into the window when I crossed a bump in the road. Although the position didn't appear to be comfortable, Lip was too far gone to bother.

I parked in front of Lip’s dorm complex.

“Lip.”

The mere mention of his name caused Lip to instantly become alert, his hands fumbling all over my car.

“Yes?”

I grinned.

“Do you need help walking or can you manage?”

“I got it.”

Lip stumbled out of the vehicle and looked up at his run-down dorm building. Thank God he was at a dorm and not in his chaotic home. Only occasionally have I had to pick up Lip from a party. Yet, I always seem to run into one of Fiona's conquests who is using the cover of night to elude detection.

“This isn’t my house.”

“Yes it is.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Lip, you moved. You live in a dorm now.”

Lip squinted, still not convinced.

“Oh!”

His eyes widened as his face relaxed.

“Yeah, I remember now.”

We moved slowly as we ascended the stairs. Lip kept stumbling forward, tripping, falling, then shooting back up. The cycle was then repeated ten steps later. Eventually I caved and slung his arm over my shoulder to quicken the process.

“Are your roommates home?”

I wanted to ignite a casual conversation because I could feel Lip growing heavier. I was struggling under his weight and quickly ran out of breath.

“Yes. Actually, no. I don’t think so. I think they left town.”

“Where did they go?”

“They went… to- somewhere.”

Thank God. I could throw Lip on his bed, tuck him in, and leave without any awkward encounters.

I threw Lip’s dorm room open and reached for the lightswitch.

“Noooooo. Don’t turn on the lights.”

I reconciled.

“Alright. Whatever you say.”

It was the home stretch. Lip’s bed was in sight.

I threw him onto it. Under his weight, the springs groaned loudly, disturbing the peace.

“Alright Lip, looks like my work here is done.”

I couldn't help but smile as I turned to leave. Even though I adored Lip and knew this would make a great story, I was eager to crawl into bed.

“Wait…”

He said meekly.

I turned, exhaling an exasperated sigh.

“What now?”

In the ten seconds that I was looking elsewhere, he had somehow gotten himself into a seated position.

“Come here.”

With the most threatening voice his inebriated mind could conjure, he demanded. I rolled my eyes as I approached him.

His expression was sluggish. He seemed to be in a drug-induced coma. Lip’s eyes were half lidded and the corners of his mouth were slightly upturned in a silly manner.

I came to a halt about a foot and a half in front of him.

“Come closer.”

I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest and taking a step forward.

“Closerrrrrr.”

He was undoubtably fucking with me. But whatever, I’ll play his stupid game. I took another step forward, our knees brushing.

A slight smirk appeared on his lips as he glanced at me through his thick lashes.

Shit.

What have I gotten myself into?

Lip encircled my thighs with his large hands, tugging me forward until the waistband of my shorts was level with his nose.

The air hitched in my throat.

“Lip!”

I exclaimed.

Lip began pressing tender kisses to the tops of my bare thighs, maintaining intense eye contact.

“Come on Y/N, live a little.”

I chuckled, my face flushed with embarrassment, despite the fact that Lip was completely unaware of his actions.

“Lip you really are drunk out of your mind.”

Lip chuckled against my skin.

“Maybe.”

He mumbled.

“No, not maybe, definitely.”

His voice was remarkably crisp and clear. Lip was in his element. He was truly demonstrating his ability to woo any woman, even when his mind was under the influence of alcohol.

“Okay, I’m a little drunk.”

I couldn’t deny that he looked unbelievably sexy with his hot mouth trailing along my thighs.

“But I bet you’re already wet just thinking about me inside you.”

His tone was sultry.

How did he manage to flirt drunk better than I could flirt stone cold sober?

Smug bastard.

“I-“

I couldn't refute his accusation because he was completely correct. I could already feel the wetness pooling in my panties and all he had done was kiss my thighs.

“Come on Y/N, just let me fuck you.”

He pushed the hem of my shirt upwards, exposing a thin strip of my stomach. Lip’s fiery touch ignited an expanse of goosebumps along my soft skin.

He pressed several hot, open mouthed kisses to my lower abdomen.

I shuddered.

My knees began to shake.

Jesus.

I placed my hands on his shoulders and meekly pushed him away. Lip resisted, his mouth remaining pressed against my body.

“You’re so tense all the fuckin’ time.”

I gulped, squeezing my eyes shut. If I continued to maintain eye contact, I would never have the strength to put an end to this.

“You need to relax… and I can make you relax. I can eat you out and make you cum all over my face- I can fuck you real slow- make you feel really good-“

His warm mouth was hovering just above my waistband.

“Lip, we’re friends-“

“Friends fuck. Friends fuck all the time.”

He moved a hand forward, rubbing soft circles into my clothed clit.

Jesus, he was touching me through two layers of clothing and I was still getting insanely hot and bothered.

No.

Hell no.

“Sure, but sober friends don’t fuck drunk friends.”

I was more assertive in my actions. I pushed him away from me. Lip's mouth disconnected from my stomach with a soft pop. His hands landed in his lap.

“No?”

He asked with a sarcastic pout.

“Maybe another time.”

I said despite knowing Lip wouldn’t remember this tomorrow.

“Okay. But I got ya thinkin’ about it, didn’t I?”

He asked smugly.

“Yes, you did.”

Lip fell to one side, his head hitting the pillow.

“Will you stay with me?”

I chuckled.

“What are you, seven?”

Lip groaned, his eyes shut.

“No-I’m at least 10.”

Despite my jokes, I wanted to be with Lip. I'd possessed a small crush on him for the many years we'd been friends, but I wasn't sure if it was something I should pursue. It was always a minor nagging thought in the back of my mind, never something to take seriously.

Until tonight.

“Well, you’re not wrong.”

I crawled into bed with him, slinging an arm around his waist.

“Love ya Y/N.”

His voice was slurred to the point where his words could barely be understood. But I recognized what he was saying. When it was time to say goodbye, he always told me he loved me (platonically, of course). I'm grateful that drunk him still clung to our traditions.

“Love you too Lip.”

Lip smelled like stale tobacco and cheap alcohol. It wafted into my nose in waves, lulling me to sleep.

[daddyslilchickenfingers2]

KINKTOBER (reuploaded)

Pegging (Matt)

Request: none but yall begged for me to bring it back lmao

Warnings: pegging obviously, sub!matt, best friends, bi reader, fingering(male), dual pleasure strap on, use of vibrator, slight edging, use of matty, mommy kink, whiny!matt, 0.2 seconds of matt sucking the strap, i think that’s all, lmk if i missed anything!

A/N: sorry this is a few days late, i’ve been super busy. tomorrow will be posted on time

Y/n’s pov

I was in the kitchen working on my MacBook when my best friend Matt came in and sat across from me. “Hey Matt.” I greeted him without looking up from my computer screen. “Um hi Y/n/n. Can I uh ask you like a really weird and personal question?” he asked. I was a bit confused but nonetheless nodded in agreement, “Sure I guess…” I said while clicking save and closed my laptop to give him my full attention. “I uh- I can’t ask you here, can we go to my room?” he stated nervously, only adding to my confusion.

We got into his room and Matt closed the door behind him, “So you know how you’re bi?” “Oh really, I am? I had no idea!” I replied sarcastically. “Not funny, but like you’re bi, obviously. I um, uh I-I know you have a strap-on…” he stuttered and trailed off. “If your question is why do I have it, I’m going to hit you for being dumb.” I joked, making Matt squirm uncomfortably, “Have you ever, you know, used it on a guy before?” he inquired nervously. “No… Why do you want to know about my sex life you weirdo?” I was suddenly getting a bit flustered because how the hell does Matt know I have a strap-on in the first place and why is he asking me about what I do with it?

“I- uh- I really like y-you and I have um- a fantasy involving you a-and I really want you to do it. Please don’t get mad.” he stated in a rushed tone, stuttering over a few words. I was beyond confused and a bit shocked, “That’s not how I expected this conversation to go. Um, okay, wow- what’s um… what’s this fantasy?” I asked curiously. Matt started to nervously pick at his nails and chew on his lip, avoiding eye contact with me as his cheeks turned pink. “Would you please dom me?” he asked, “And peg me…” he added, saying it so quietly that I almost didn’t hear him.

“What!? Matt are you sure? It’s probably gonna hurt, I’ve-I’ve never done that before. I’ve only ever used it to fuck a girls pussy.” I replied flustered and just as nervous as Matt. He finally looked at me with pleading eyes, “Please? I have lube and I’ve fingered myself before. I’ll be a good boy and listen, I promise!” he begged me. Looking at his face, I reluctantly agreed “I uh- okay, we can try it. I’m just scared I’m going to hurt you.” I told him softly. “You won’t hurt me, it’ll just be uncomfortable at first. I really want this, I’ve thought about it since we were 17. Can we do it tonight? Chris and Nick are going over to a friend’s house.” Matt said quickly, clearly excited that I agreed.

“Sure I guess, but I’m gonna want foreplay beforehand. And I’m probably gonna want to kiss you, like a lot.” I laughed as Matt’s cheeks turned a deep shade of pink again. He started looking down again nervously “Can I kiss you right now?” he asked softly, instead of answering I just tilted his head up and captured his lips in a short but sweet kiss. “Mhm, thank you.” he blurted out after, as I got up and made my way to the door. I sent him a wink before going to my own room where I pulled out my strap-on, which happened to be one for dual pleasure, meaning there was a vibrating dildo that went into me as well.

Even though it had already been cleaned after the last time I used it, I decided to clean it again anyway. I also decided I needed to ask Matt another question so I texted him to come to my room. I laid out a few sets of lingerie, that basically cover nothing, on my bed, but I wanted Matt to pick one anyway. “Um what did you need my help with?” he asked as he stepped into my room, closing the door. “I want you to pick which one you want me to wear tonight.” I said while pulling him over to my bed to look at what I had picked out. I stopped when I noticed Matt kept trying to cover his crotch with his hands, instantly knowing he was hard. “Are you hard right now Matty?” I teased, causing him to blush deeply.

“Only a little bit. I didn’t touch myself, I promise! I-I do have a vibrator in m-my ass though but it’s not on. I just wanted to edge myself so I could cum more later, ‘m sorry I didn’t a-ask.” he stuttered out, extremely flustered. “Do you have the remote?” I questioned as he was eyeing this one black set, which was mostly just straps. “Yes, and I want this one it’s really sexy.” he blurted out before blushing heavily. The one he picked out was a black leather bra and panties set with a grater belt, the bra was basically just an outline of one as it had nothing covering my tits. It did hold my them up nicely though, just like the panties, which were crotchless, and the garter made my ass look good.

“Can I have control of the vibrator until tonight? You think you can handle that without cumming?” I inquired, wanting to know how far I could take things with him. Matt dug into his pocket before pulling out the remote and handed it to me with an embarrassed smile. “I think I can as long as it’s not on 24/7.” he told me as he grabbed my hand and started nervously playing with the few rings I had on my fingers. “Can I ask you a serious question?” I asked Matt, resulting in him nodding. “I’m not judging you, I just want to know, but you don’t have to answer if you feel uncomfortable. Why do you want to be pegged so badly and like having things up your ass? I don’t care if you are, but are you like gay or bi?” I questioned, causing him to drop my hand.

Matt’s face turned a bright red and he had to clear his throat a couple of times before speaking. “N-No, I’m not gay or bi, I don’t find men attractive. I was just young and experimenting one day and figured out how to stimulate my prostate. I wanna get pegged because I’ve seen it on pornhub and it looks really hot.” he said softly. “Plus you’re someone I trust and if I’m being honest, you’re really attractive and you domming me would be the hottest fucking thing in the world to me.” he added, blushing heavily. “Noted. Thanks Matty, that’s all I needed.” I smiled at him before Nick conveniently called for him. This was the perfect time to start teasing him with the vibrator.

After putting the other two lingerie sets away, I walked out to the kitchen, pretending to go back to working on my laptop. I watched as Matt sat down next to Nick on the couch, pulling the small remote out of my pocket I pressed the + button, turning it on to 1, making Matt’s breath hitch a little. He looked up at me with pleading eyes to stop as he was talking to Nick but I turned it up again to 3, making him squirm a bit. “Matt, are you okay? You look uncomfortable and you’re not paying attention.” Nick asked, genuinely concerned.

Matt’s pov

I regret giving Y/n the remote to the vibrator now because I didn’t think she’d turn it on when I was talking to my fucking brother. I was fine when it was on level 1 but when she turned it up to 3 my brain went a bit foggy, I zoned out a little bit until Nick put his hand on my shoulder. “Matt, are you okay? You look uncomfortable and you’re not paying attention.” he asked, I quickly came up with an excuse. “Yeah I’m fine, my head just hurts a bit.” I lied, looking at Y/n and silently asking her to turn it off, which luckily for me, she did. After talking to Nick, I walked over to her, “Please don’t turn it on when I’m talking to my brother!” I pleaded, but that just made her turn it up to 5 while smirking.

“But doesn’t it feel good Matty?” she asked, I let out a whimper and nodded before walking back to the living room. This went on for the next two hours or so until Nick and Chris left, my boxers were soaked with precum and my dick was so hard. I was laying on my bed and I swear I almost came in my pants when Y/n walked in. She was wearing the lingerie set I picked out along with the strap-on, which was black and matched the set perfectly. The strap-on was definitely smaller than my dick, maybe 5 or 6 inches max, but that was good because I don’t think I could take one that’s upwards of 7 inches.

I started squirming as Y/n stood above me, looking down at me and telling me to get undressed. She already had me take the vibrator out like 15 minutes ago, not that it really mattered. “You’re already being such a good boy for me Matty.” she praised, making me whine a bit as her eyes raked over my body. “I’m ready for you to dom me.” I confessed, causing her to stop staring at my body and smile at me. “Where’s your lube at?” she asked me but I just got it for her instead, “Thank you handsome, can you lay on the bed for me?” she asked sweetly, knowing I was a bit nervous to get pegged and have sex with her in general.

Y/n’s pov

I know Matt said he wanted me to dom him, but I could visibly tell he was anxious and nervous so I was trying to be as gentle as I could with him. “Matty, if it’s too much or it hurts too bad let me know and we’ll stop and cuddle okay?” I said while moving some hair out of his eyes. “I promise I’ll say something.” he replied, “What do you wanna start with first babe?” I asked him, wanting to do things his way. “I want to makeout with you.” he giggled, I hovered over Matt and we started kissing slowly at first, then we started full-on making out. I was sucking on Matt’s tongue and he was letting out the prettiest whiny moans as I ran my hands up and down his sides.

Experimentally, I started ghosting my hands across his nipples, loving the whimper it pulled from him. I pulled back for just a second, “Does that feel good baby?” I questioned while rubbing my thumbs over his nipples before rolling them between my thumb and index finger. “Yeah but please more!” he whined, not making too much sense, “Please what baby? What do you want me to do?” I asked as I kissed all over his chest. “Want you to just peg me already. I’m ready mommy.” Matt squirmed. His eyes opened widely when he realized what he just said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mea-“ he started before I cut him off with a kiss.

“Don’t be impatient baby, mommy will fuck you when she’s ready.” I said sternly as I moved towards his aching cock. I discreetly turned my vibrator onto 2, not high enough to make me cum but just enough to get me more wet. His cock was already covered and dripping with precum, “This really gets you worked up, doesn’t it?” I teased as I grabbed the lube. I squeezed some onto my fingers and circled his puckered hole before slowly slipping one in. “Two fingers please, I can take it.” he whined, I added a second finger and Matt was right, he could indeed take it.

I started scissoring his hole opened before adding some more lube and a third finger causing Matt to whimper. “Too much?” I asked, not wanting to hurt him, “N-No just so full.” he panted out in response. I fingered Matt for a few more minutes until he grabbed my wrist and stopped me. “I-I think I’m ready mommy.” he said, looking up at me with those innocent blue eyes. “Are you sure?” I asked as I pulled my fingers out, wiping the rest of the lube off on my thigh. “Really sure, can- can I get it wet with my mouth and control your vibrator, please?” Matt asked nervously.

I handed him the remote and stood up, Matt quickly turned my toy up to 5 which caused me to squirm before he got on his knees. “You look good on your knees baby.” I complimented, making him blush heavily. “How do I um you know, suck dick?” Matt asked, his last two words barely above a whisper. “Well I’m not going to feel anything so you can just do whatever.” I explained, Matt nodded and started to suck on it lightly for a minute as I looked down at him.

He whined and stopped sucking, “I can’t wait, just use lube because I need it now!” he complained, desperately trying not to touch himself. “Okay, get back on the bed for me then.” I said while stroking the side of his face. Once Matt got back on the bed, I put some lube around his hole and onto the strap. “It might hurt baby, so tell me if you need to stop.” “Okay Y/n, please I need you so bad!” he whined. I placed the tip at Matt’s entrance and slowly pushed it in about half way.

Matt let out a choked sob as his hands tightly clenched the sheets and his face held a look of discomfort. “It’s okay Matty, you’re okay.” I soothed him, “P-Put the rest in.” he whimpered. I pushed in the rest of the way before stilling my movements again, not wanting to go too fast. Matt being the sneaky little shit he is, decided to turn my vibrator up to 7, I let out a loud moan as he did so. “Please move.” he groaned quietly, I started pumping at a slow pace as he started to groan a bit.

Even though I was feeling so much pleasure from the vibrator and I wanted nothing more than to start pounding into Matt, I stopped myself because I didn’t want to hurt him. “F-Faster mommy!” he loudly whined, I sped up my movements just a little bit, loving Matt’s whimpers and moans, “Feel good baby?” I panted out. “More! Need more!” he cried out, grabbing onto my shoulders, “Want me to go faster or harder?” I asked, wanting to clarify what he wanted.

“Both, please! Feels so goo—“ he cut himself off with an extremely loud moan as I started fucking into him rougher. “RIGHT THERE! FUCK MOMMY, D-DO THAT AGAIN!” he begged, bending his knees and putting his feet flat on the bed to arch his back more. Even with all the pleasure Matt was experiencing, he was still thinking about me, he turned up my vibrator to 10 which caused me to also join in on his loud moaning.

“Right here Matty? Is that where it feels good?” I asked breathlessly, “Yes! Yes! Please touch my cock, please! Please!” he needily moaned. I started rubbing his cock in rhythm with my thrust as we were both getting closer to the edge. “A-Are you close mommy?” “Very close baby, I just want you to cum first.” I told Matt, speeding up all my movements. “Choke me! Choke me tightly so I can please cum!” he whimpered.

I used my left hand to choke him and a couple seconds later, Matt was painting both our stomachs white with copious amounts of cum, cause me to cum as well and pulled out a him. “M-Matt, vibrator!” I cried for him to turn it off as I was getting overstimulated, “Sorry, sorry.” he apologized out of breath and turned it off my vibrator as I collapsed next to him on my back as we caught our breath.

I took off the strap and I was honestly just going to put it on the floor because I was too tired to clean it right now but Matt took it from me. He licked all my cum off the vibrating side before he put it on the floor and scooped his cum off of me. Matt stuck his fingers in his mouth to taste himself and moaned when I moved to lick the rest of his cum off his body. “You were such a good boy Matty, you did so well.” I praised him as I kissed his neck, sucking a minimal amount of hickies into the skin.

“Thank you Y/n/n, felt so good.” Matt blushed as I stood up to go take another shower “C’mon let’s go get cleaned up real quick.” I said while helping Matt up. I grabbed my clothes and strap-on as well as a pair of socks, boxers and a tshirt for Matt before we went to my room to take a quick shower. When we got out and got dressed we looked at the time to see Nick and Chris would be home soon. As to not be sus, we sat in the living to watch a movie and Matt was now extra clingy.

I’m not complaining, I think it’s cute, I enjoyed it. Matt had his head on my shoulder and I had an arm wrapped around his shoulders. I was playing with his hair when Nick and Chris walked back in and thankfully neither of them said anything. They probably just chalked it up to Matt feeling anxious about something and I comforted him. Both boys simply just plopped down on the couch to watch the movie with us until we all called it a night, Matt ended up sleeping in my room.

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[alluralater]

how to flirt with girls as an inexperienced lesbian? i have no clue how, but i wanna try😭 once i get past the “you’re so pretty!” and “i like your ___!” i never know where to go from there

hi! i’m gonna go with the exact format you presented because it is very common. i got you <3

“you’re so pretty!”

“i like your ___”

okay so let’s do a little editing here.

“you’re gorgeous” not said in like a yelling extreme cute way but in a purposeful + hot way. there’s nothing wrong with excitement and personally i love it but if you’re trying to give some DEFINITE signals, whip out the thesaurus and speak with intention. magnificent, handsome, beautiful, radiant, attractive, etc. don’t be fake about it, obviously. be sincere and deliberate. choose what feels most right for the person and what they make you feel. ‘pretty’ works just as well if your delivery is good! i usually tend to avoid for a first impression just because it’s a little too broad for the way i flirt.

“i love your top!” and if they say thank you then you ask them if they thrifted it or bought it, maybe make a comment on what specifically you like. basically the goal here is to get out of the compliment area and into the conversation area without too much effort. keep things light and causal and flowing. i find nervous flirting super cute and endearing because i’m a very confident flirt and the ‘opposites attract’ is deliciousss on occasion but i get how that isn’t for everyone.

from either of these options you should begin giving someone a little preview of what you’re like, because that’s what this is, you’re giving someone an interactive little trailer to the movie of you :) so be yourself. being a fake version of yourself just to flirt is lame because it’s not as though that person will just never find out, ya know. if you intend to move things forward in ANY regard, they’ll learn you were posing. it bothers me a LOT when this happens because ofc you cannot and should not attempt to keep that same energy forever if it’s not sincere. i like my cuties genuine as fuck.

okay onto the next thing. is your body language giving flirty?? i have other asks i’ve answered where i’ve talked about green flag body language. i’d suggest reading up on it and understanding your own. flirting like this is as much a physical experience as it is a vocal one. are your arms held super tight to your body/are you covering parts of your body? are you standing stiffly? do you appear comfortable? if you’re comfortable, whoever you’re talking to is likely to gather that and feel similarly (if they’re into it). stand in front of a mirror (if possible) and try to flirt it up with yourself for a few minutes. don’t like analyze every movement- just try to generally observe and see what kind of vibe you might be giving. *if unsure, ask a friend to fake flirt with you like a little test trial. nothing wrong with asking for help if it’s making you nervous/if you can’t tell how you come off :)

at the end of the day it’s not about blind confidence, it’s about comfortability and confidence in yourself. don’t flirt with intention to gain something. it really makes all the difference. i flirt because it’s fun and i like chatting people up that i meet. puts a smile on their face and mine, and that’s more than enough for me. i feel like that guy from ratatouille. anyone can flirt!

trust me when i say it is insanely flattering when someone that nervously flirts comes up to me and does exactly that. like??? they could have easily just not but they DID and im so beyond pleased by that + grateful for their EFFORT. flirting can be very vulnerable. i do it all the time and still find myself flustered pretty much constantly <3 inexperience means nothing aside from building ‘in the field confidence.’ flirt however feels most comfortable for you. as long as you’re not being too invasive physically or asking questions that are truly none of your business, you’ll do great!

ex for clarification) don’t randomly start oversharing about potentially triggering topics, and definitely do not ask anyone about something that is commonly potentially triggering. this may sound like obvious info but i’ve been on the receiving end of this from total strangers and i cannot tell you how quickly my smile left my face while i wondered who else they had done this to. there’s nothing worse than being flirted with by someone that refuses to acknowledge the boundaries of others.

if someone doesn’t seem to be into it, wish them a lovely day and do not press them for more or expect anything. when i give someone a compliment- it is just that, a compliment. i don’t expect conversation or a phone number simply because i turned someone’s head or got their attention for a moment. it grosses me out when someone pushes and pushes when i’m very clearly not interested (saying thank you but not looking at them or specifically looking elsewhere, keeping tight body language, not encouraging conversation or responding, etc. these are particular to me ofc but i make my nos very loud while trying not to hurt someone’s feelings. some people SHOULD be humbled though for their lack of boundaries and i’ll straight out tell them they’re making me uncomfortable if that’s the case bc maybe no one else has done that to them and they need to know. hurt feelings are not more important than feeling safe).

clarification on good nervous flirting: akin to active gay panic. very cute, very jittery, lots of energy, laughing, breathlessness, etc. it’s even super cute when someone is like “i don’t do this a lot but…” “i don’t flirt very much so…” like yes yes yes tell me please and give me more info about yourself because it helps me know what i should be doing and how comfortable you actually are in this situation. communication like that is such a green flag. if i think you seem uncomfortable, i’m very unlikely to want to continue conversation even if you approached me.

on that note, if YOU become uncomfortable because the vibes are awful and continue to get worse, there’s nothing wrong with dipping out. you don’t owe anyone anything, regardless of if you’re the one who initiated.

basically there are a lot of things you can do right and only a few you can do wrong. this is not an exhaustive list of either because i don’t know you so i can only share from my own experiences <3 flirt with purpose and do so comfortably. figure out what you want to say and how you want to say it. think about what feels most natural to you and go from there. respect the boundaries of other people as well as yourself and you’re sure to do lovely <3

[lunarflux]

I find it so interesting that Alicent's only reference to what Aemond "somehow" has become is strictly based on what happened to Luke at Storm's End, and I suppose what happened at Rook's Rest with Rhaenys (I don't think it was said that Cole told her it was him, but idk). It's one thing to have seen your youngest (sorry, Daeron) son grow up to be a psychopath and show no sympathy towards anything, but up until that point, Aemond really didn't do much outside of what was expected of him.

Her tending to Aegon with guilt set my brain on fire because what did she honestly expect? She coddled her children with blankets soaked in ice water and expected them to find warmth on their own. All three of her children display different results of what happens when you neglect your children. Aegon acts out to get any reaction from her because any reaction is better than no reaction, and when he finally goes to her, pleading for help because no one wants to listen to him during Small Council, she just shuts him down. Aegon is still young, and there was more than enough room in his development for her to be his mother in all senses of the word. Helaena basically gave up on anyone trying to understand her, and had Alicent offered like... a minute of actual comfort when Jaehaerys died, Helaena might not have had a literal panic attack (though that panic attack was totally warranted because that scene was honestly suffocating even as a viewer).

In terms of her relationship with Aemond, exactly how often does this woman talk to her children beyond the niceties? Aemond's choice to own what happened to Lucerys was a result of "no one did anything, so I fucking did it myself" instead of "I was angry, and maybe I did want him dead, but I didn't understand the consequences of holding onto anger and letting it fester, and now it's too late." Aemond 100% admired his mother when she tried to claim Luke's eye, but where did that motherly protection go? Even if she went full tilt and took the "Well, Luke never got punished" stance, yes, Aemond might still be where he's at, but she wouldn't be outwardly condemning his actions and might not be confused as to how we ended up here. Better yet, she wouldn't be shocked that Aemond has the silent confidence to take over as Prince Regent.

Aemond's face while waiting for the Small Council's decision on who will rule in Aegon's stead was honestly so funny. He already knew - he played the game. He let his brother flail helplessly and drown as King, and spent time showing his hand, showing how capable he can be. All this to say, Alicent REALLY ignored whatever the hell he was doing because if she hadn't, she would have found more than one moment where she could step in and mold him into a ruler who takes her opinions into account.

"Aemond is still young" so is Aegon?? And you were?? Idk okay with him doing whatever the fuck he was doing???? He also has little experience, so you can't use that argument now that the Council is backing Aemond.

I know the woman is fed up because of all the men fucking things up around her but holy shit woman - use your power as a woman and as a mother to mold them through manipulation without them knowing.

Quick edit now that it's the morning and can actually think past fatigue: I know what we're privy to about Alicent/Aemond's relationship is mostly inferred. There's a lot left to the imagination, and when I say "passed the niceties," I'm referring to the kinds of conversations that are essentially shallow. Alicent says what she needs to say, but there's no warmth since she speaks from the position of duty. There are touches of this when Aemond volunteers to go find Aegon in s1. We see Alicent confide in her father, but we don't see those thoughts said to Aemond which might have provided more for him in terms of her sympathy and protectiveness towards him (following the eye incident because she does comfort him there). Additionally, my main focus and why I have these opinions is Alicent's use of the word "somehow." Aemond has, for the most part, made an assumption of his mother's behavior, so she does the same. The assumptions can be made through the observation of someone's actions and not necessarily through conversation.

That being said, I am taking these stances from the POV of someone who only watches the show as I don't like to compare the developments between the product and the source material. Comparison is the thief of joy, and adaptations for TV will never be as accurate and concise as we'd like them to be.

[moony-2001]

Lore Olympus ep. 252 critique

Before all you stans get mad I generally thought this episode was pretty okay. But maybe that’s because not a whole lot happened.

Cassandra

So going in the order of events, first up is our favorite gal Cassandra.

Gotta say, already like her loads.

I don’t have a whole lot to say about her general existence, beyond the fact that it’s stupid that Apollo is using her as a walking incognito tab. My main criticism more lies around the idea of when did Apollo even meet her? He obviously couldn’t have met her during the time skip because there were no interactions allowed between realms during that time and he was kicking it in Olympus.

We also have no indication of when he actually met her post-punishment. There’s no definitive timeline for how far we are post-time skip, but by my estimation, we can’t be more than a month past when the embargo officially lifted. Idk I can already smell the mess that is this storyline a mile away.

The SA plot line

Holy fuck. I don’t exactly know what the hell Rachel is exactly trying to achieve with the SA plot line but I can tell you that the handling of it has been piss poor.

Uhhh... this is great and all except for the fact that Persephone never thought this. There is not one shred of evidence that Persephone ever liked or actually found Apollo handsome. Not even in the very early chapters. She didn't even say that he made her feel special. She said that she liked the way Hades made her feel. Hades made her feel special by grooming her but that's a whole-ass post on its own.

Even after her assault, she continued to express at minimum a clear discomfort for him in front of others and at maximum immense hatred for him when by herself or with only him. And now suddenly Rachel wants to flip the script? Why? What purpose would that serve? Why is she suddenly backpedaling on a plotline that was established within the first 25 episodes/the second day Persephone is on Olympus? The SA plotline is the longest-running and the "big bad" that has yet to be resolved. But now it only pops up when the story needs a little conflict or an extra boost to drive it forward. Plus now she wants to portray Apollo as this misunderstood ex-love interest/boyfriend with whom the audience is supposed to sympathize? It's disgusting. @genericpuff who I really need to stop tagging in these posts I'm so sorry made an excellent essay about how Rachel is burying the SA plot line that basically takes what I've said above and greatly expands it. Go read it, they made a lot of excellent points.

Melinoe

Ah yes. The mystery deity that was really Hades’ inner child/actual child all along!

So I actually had a conversation with another LO critic about how weird I thought this "inner child -> actual canonical child" pipeline was. Now, granted, I could be reading into this way too much but when I first read this, I honestly thought it was some kind of weird/unintentional representation of parents projecting their trauma onto their children.

We've seen this little ghost buddy in past chapters and a lot of people (myself included) thought that our ghost buddy was a representation of Hades' inner child. A little Hades if you will. And it was portrayed that way. We often saw our little ghost buddy/little Hades who was extremely traumatized by Hades' past experiences. The part of Hades that just can't let go despite what he may claim about "moving on" or "being better". But if this little ghost/Hades is actually their kid Melinoe, that means they saw everything that Hades went through. All his traumas, all his struggles. Everything. And now also with Persephone and her little jaunt through the mind-scape and the shit she saw. So now we have to recontextualize all of those scenes where Hades interacts with this being and tbh the scenes kind of become very ick? This is such a strange direction to take this particular storyline. Something about it just rubs me the wrong way and I don't know if it's my above complaint or something else.

But yeah. Pretty tame in comparison to some of my past posts and posts that will come. Until the next chapter and/or my next post.

[possibilistfanfiction]

For a prompt: honestly, I’d love to see more of outsider’s perspectives of Ava and Bea, like you did with the shopkeeper and her wife.

[tbh this has basically everyone u would want to see!! lol - 10k ao3 here]

//

yasmine

camila and beatrice have been video chatting often lately, and have figured out something encouraging,  you think. you try to understand everything, but it seems like, especially when jillian is on, they're speaking a whole different language. sometimes you're a little blown away by the both of them still: camila is brilliant at anything to do with technology, and kind, and funny; beatrice is brilliant at, well, just about everything, and, even though she's been working steadfastly to research how to get ava back, she still has sunkissed skin now, light hair and freckles. sometimes you see a flash of a tattoo on her wrist.

it hadn't really surprised you, to see ava lean forward while the whole entire world was ending and kiss beatrice — a little awkward, for you, but mostly achy. you haven't ever cared about sexuality, but you definitely don't when it comes to the two of them: because there's harm and then there's duty and then there's love.

one day you're sitting with camila, pretending to read more than actually reading, when beatrice facetimes. you know this because, honestly, sometimes you're a little nosy. it's fine; you helped save the world and sometimes the ocs, with incessant and constant training, gets kind of dull.

when camila answers, beatrice is crying. from what you can see, she's in a sports bra, you're pretty sure; you're scared, for a moment, that she's hurt, or that something really bad has happened, but then she's laughing and say, 'ava's here; ava's here,' and camila starts to cry.

'she's — she's okay?'

and then, a literal fucking miracle, ava's face — the same as you remember; so pretty and with a friendly smile — pops up on screen.

'holy shit,' camila says, and then she's laughing too, her eyes filling with tears. 'hi, ava.'

'hey,' ava says, then crams in next to where beatrice is sitting on the couch, practically on her lap, but you can't really begrudge them. beatrice is in a pair of sweatpants and, indeed, a sports bra; ava has, ostensibly, changed from whatever outfit she came back in, because she's wearing a big soft t-shirt and a comfortable pair of shorts. maybe that's what she wore in — wherever she was, but you're pretty certain those are beatrice's clothes. 'yasmine too, hello.'

beatrice is still crying and smiling and ava leans into her side, runs her fingers gently under her eyes to dry her tears.

'— how?' is the only thing camila gets out: are you okay?; do you remember us?; do you want to kill us now?; how long have you been gone?; are you still the ava we know?; what is going to happen to this world now? sits in your chest, but ava just shrugs.

'i heard bea, all the time.' beatrice blushes slightly, but she just tucks her face into ava's arm from a moment. 'and all of you too. but, bea, the strongest. i think it had something to do with her being in the ocean, maybe? and the city of angels.' she turns to beatrice. 'a little on the nose, don't you think?'

'oh yeah,' camila says, 'that's it, definitely the only reason.'

beatrice rolls her eyes but ava just smiles. 'and because she loves me, i suppose.' she scoots even closer to beatrice, who sighs happily. 'something just — spit me out, i guess. right in bea's living room. which, if i do say so myself, is way better than cat's cradle, no offense.'

another miracle in a series of miracles beyond belief. 'wow,' you say, and there's a beat of silence before everyone is laughing again, camila wiping tears.

'anyway, maybe you can come to us, tomorrow?' ava asks. 'i don't — i would like to stay here, if i can. if that works. at least for a few days.'

'you're — you're healed?' you can't help but ask.

ava nods. 'lots of scars,' she says, but then shrugs, and beatrice runs a gentle hand up and down her spine. 'but yeah, i'm good, as far as i can tell. not old as fuck, either, which rocks.'

'we can come tomorrow,' camila says, then starts crying all over again. 'i can't wait to see you. both of you.'

ava grins. 'yeah, don't come too early, though. i have plans.'

beatrice really blushes then, coughs into ava's shoulder.

'i will be sure to let beatrice know before coming,' camila says.

ava's smile is way too bright, all of a sudden, and beatrice groans and you kind of want to cover your ears before ava says, 'that's what i'll be doing tonight.'

'goodbye, ava,' camila says, even though she laughs. 'i love you, so much.'

ava leans into the camera, like she wants to reach through it. 'i love you too. i am — there are no words for what i feel, seeing you all again. and how much i missed you.'

'well, have fun tonight,' camila says. 'please don't tell me any details when we visit tomorrow.'

'this one time, i'll spare you.'

'thank god.'

//

keiko

you meet her on an otherwise unremarkable monday afternoon. you're running through your forms before the advanced adult class you teach, and when she walks in, you notice her immediately: muscular in a cutoff tank, in a way that's unassuming and speaks to years of training specifically in martial art, a calm expression on her face. her hair is back in a meticulously neat bun, and, when she sees the wall of bo you've spent a few years collecting, her shoulders relax and she lets out a big breath. vanessa is at the front desk and, while she's the best to go out in weho with, she's not the most knowledgable.

'hi,' you say, stepping up beside the desk. 'i'm keiko.'

she offers her hand and shakes firmly, calluses similar to yours. 'beatrice,' she says. 'pleasure.'

'can i help you with anything?'

'i'm hoping to join a dojo.'

'well,' you gesture to, in fact, the dojo behind you, 'you've come to the right place.'

she grants you a small smile.

'we have classes, all levels. would you like me to show you around?'

'that would be wonderful, thank you.'

and you had shown her around; you had sold her a monthly trial membership — a few advanced adult classes and some time for open practice — and a gi and obi — she'd calmly informed you that she's a black belt, and when she came in the next afternoon for the advanced class you teach, you had felt immediately embarrassed when she runs through forms with the kind of power and ease you had only seen a few times in your life, even at the olympics and world championships.

'that was a great class,' she says, far too kind a compliment for someone who is probably the one person you've met since you retired a few years ago who could beat you in a competition.

'you are — incredible.'

she shoulders the compliment with reluctance. 'i haven't trained in quite a while.'

'that is honestly insane.'

she laughs, after a moment. 'a much needed mental health break,' she says. 'but it felt good, to return to this, in this way.'

'do you — i saw you looking at the bo the other day,' you say, and you don't miss the way her hands twitch. 'would you like to use one? i have to clean and close up, anyway.'

she hesitates, but then, 'are you sure?'

'absolutely,' you say. 'pick any one you want; you can train over there, it's got the best view of the ocean.'

'that's very kind.' she's solemn, and a little quiet. 'thank you, keiko.'

she walks, barefoot and at home in her gi, and runs her hands gently over each bo. she picks a medium length one, black and sleek and heavier than your favorite, and then takes a deep breath and starts moving so beautifully you can't even quite follow it. it's mesmerizing, and you watch until she slows and then sets the bow on the ground and, to your surprise, sniffles. she wipes tears off her cheeks and you quickly start cleaning, granting her as much privacy as possible. she takes a deep breath and then takes the bo and walks back over to the wall.

'if i find one of my own,' she says, 'can i store it here? it's all right if not, of course.'

'you're more than welcome to do that.' you don't quite know what to say to her, the most talented martial artist you've ever seen in your life, who never competed at any events you know of, randomly in your dojo, who had just cried running through forms with a bo, small and coiled tightly. 'and, honestly, you don't have to feel like you need to come to classes. you're more than welcome, but i think you're beyond anything i would have to teach you.'

she laughs after a few seconds. 'i really did enjoy it.'

'maybe thursday we could spar? i'm here in the morning.'

she seems to weigh it, but then she nods. 'that sounds fun. thank you, keiko.'

you get to know her quickly: the way she moves and her favorite forms and the first time she throws you, you lie on your back in a little bit of shock: you haven't lost in years. she just stands calmly and offers you a hand. 'who are you?'

she just laughs.

you get to know her, as the days go along. you get lunch, one day, and you flirt with the host and the waiter — 'i love cute boys,' you say, 'what can i say?' — which amuses her.

'my partner is a flirt,' she says, but the smile slips from her face before she can stop it. she clears her throat. 'she's very sick, right now,' she says, quickly, as if to avoid your questions. 'but, still,' she says, sitting up a little straighter, gathering herself, 'a flirt.'

you learn not to ask about her partner; you learn that she surprisingly loves pepperoni pizza and beer; you learn that she's rich and lives in a beautiful house on the beach, but she's generous and lowkey, especially compared to everyone else in los angeles. she works in tech for a firm in spain — the details vague, but that's tech anyway — and, when you offer to let her teach a kids class, she smiles gently and accepts. she's patient and seems to enjoy correcting their form and teaching them kata one step at a time; she encourages them and makes sure to teach, quietly, that the goal is never, ever to harm, only to protect. she's one of your best friends, quickly, and is also impossible to beat whenever you spar. she goes out with you and your friends in weho one night, gets very drunk and turns down what feels like an entire club of women, and then tells you, on your couch at home while you give her a glass of water, that her partner’s name is ava, and that she’s kind and smart and beautiful and loves to dance. she doesn’t cry, but she curls up, small and sad; you haven’t mentioned it since.

one day, beatrice texts you, early in the morning, Hello! Ava's treatment worked, so she's back with me now, for the foreseeable future.

it's very businesslike, but she's always a stiff texter, and you know how excited she must be, how relieved.

Hopefully forever, she sends, and you know you're right.

you meet ava a few days later, hanging onto beatrice's side when she comes to the dojo after a few days off. you realize, in one flash of a moment, clear and sacred, that you really have never seen beatrice smile before — not until ava looks at her when she takes her bo off the wall with the softest expression. devotion; adoration. love. beatrice blushes and returns it, a smile in full force so powerful it knocks the air out of you slightly.

you also realize that you've never seen beatrice show off before, and you decide, right then and there, you're never sparring while ava is watching. you can lose, sure, but being humiliated is not on your to-do list. when you tell ava that, as she watches beatrice in a little bit of a daze, she just laughs. 'she's incredible.'

'yeah,' you agree as beatrice swipes the bo along the ground so hard you think she could break an ankle, then stands without a breath in between. 'she is.'

//

ray

the second time you meet ava, she's in a tiny bikini, bright orange, with a wispy gossamer coverup that you're sure beatrice bought just for her. it kind of makes you laugh, and it's barely warm enough to be out without a sweater, let alone in a bikini, but ava waves when you come in from the whitewater. bea is still waiting at the outer break, exhausted this morning for reasons that made her blush and you had laughed, delightedly.

'your girl is taking forever to catch anything today,' you say.

ava almost glows, you think, at your girl. 'we didn't get much sleep last night,' ava tells you with a wink. you grin and high five and then offer her a spot on your towel after you unzip your wetsuit and pull it down to rest along your waist.

ava is beautiful. you had wanted to know her, for months, and finally, she's here — young and so, so pretty; small and surprisingly muscular. you would never say anything, but you know she had been sick, and there are scars all over her body, puckered and angry still, shiny and pink. you know bea doesn't care, and you don't either, but ava moves a little gingerly and you fight the urge to ask if she needs help. she settles, eventually, legs stretched out in front of her and her palms behind, leaning back into the sun, face turned up toward it. she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath in, then slowly lets it out.

you notice beatrice about to catch a wave, and you're happy when ava seems, like a sixth sense, to open her eyes just in time. bea is talented: balanced and strong and had learned to surf on a short board and relatively big swells quicker than anyone else you'd taught; when she’d shown you her bo one day — mostly because it was just out on her coffee table — you had been both very turned on and a little terrified. she’s the most gifted athlete you know, and so it’s no surprise when. she rides the biggest wave of the day all the way in, kissing the lip a few times, and ava sighs.

'she's so hot, jesus christ.'

'no comment.'

she laughs. 'we didn't get a ton of time together, really, before i... got sick.' she pauses, looking at beatrice collecting her board in the whitewater. 'she was scared. but now, it's like —' she shakes her head — 'i just love her so much.'

'yeah,' you say, a little teary for your friend. 'i can tell you, without a doubt, that she loves you too.'

ava grins, then stands and walks toward beatrice, who lets ava pull down the zipper of her wetsuit with gratuitous hands, a kiss to the nape of her neck, and then grabs beatrice's hand and laces their fingers together. 'wanna come over for breakfast?'

'i would — yeah,' you say, 'i would really love that.'

you step in, quickly, once ava cracks an egg so hard it goes all over the counter and beatrice only looks on in adoration.

'you're a disaster,' you tell her, but she just shrugs. ava is still in her bikini and cover up, and beatrice's hands sit on her hips while you fry some eggs and chop up vegetables to make a passable pico. she smiles into the crook of ava's neck and they make you a little breathless: a happiness that quiet; a love that big.

//

ayanna

you've been working at this coffee shop for a week now, and every morning, the hottest woman you've ever seen walks in, clearly just from the beach, and orders the same thing in a british accent that makes you want to groan. you're new to this part of los angeles, which is bougie as hell. it's mostly white influencers who order overly complicated drinks for no reason, but the pay is above minimum wage and your manager has worked with your class schedule easily enough.

plus — beatrice.

she's quiet, exceedingly polite and always tips at least twice of what her drink costs. she smiles and has freckles and you burn your hand more than once sneaking a glance at her strong arms and tattoo on her wrist and, eventually, a new one on her shoulder and collarbone that you had seen because she's decided to make your 6:42 am better by wearing a cutoff tank and shorts today.

'good morning, ayanna,' she says, and it's fucking electrifying that she knows your name, even if you have a nametag on your apron — it still counts.

'hey, beatrice. how were the waves this morning?'

she leans against the counter, just slightly, and you will yourself to keep your cool. 'how much do you know about surfing?'

'nothing, really.'

she laughs, not unkind. 'well, in that case, the outer break was far, which means i had to paddle a lot, but the waves were beautiful. can't regret it.'

'uh,' you say, super smooth, 'regular order?'

'yes,' she says, 'and can you add a chocolate croissant? oh, and an olive oil coffee cake. thank you.'

beatrice doesn't seem like the kind of person to eat a croissant and a coffee cake for breakfast, but who are you to judge: that sounds awesome, frankly. you tell her your total and she tips, like always, excessively, and then collects everything with a kind smile.

'have a great day,' she says, and you're too flustered to say anything other than an extremely eloquent, 'same.' mohammed laughs at you from where he's unpacking more to-go cups and you flip him off before you greet the next customer.

/

it's a few days later when your routine gets broken by another beautiful woman, who seems a little in awe of this stupid, trendy coffee shop, but beatrice wasn't in yesterday and it's already 7:19 and she hasn't been in today. it's not that you expect her, really, but she is the best part of your shift, so, whatever. you can have a harmless crush if you want.

'hi,' this new person says, and then reads your nametag. 'ayanna, what's up?'

your mind blanks, because you're pretty much face to face with an angel: she's small and lively and has pretty, delicate features and her hair is pushed back beneath a bright pink beanie, just at her chin. her hands, playing with a small, elegant black wallet, are delicate too. 'nothing,' you get out, 'just, you know, work.'

she smiles. 'yeah, i'm a bartender. opposite end of the day, but i get you.'

you glance down at your screen, just to have something to do other than stare. 'so, what's your order?'

she gets out her phone and reads off iced coffee with cold foam, and then locks it and inspects your pastries. 'can i get one of each? i want to try them all.'

you laugh, something fond and a little ridiculous about that, but you say, 'sure thing. what's the name?'

'ava,' she says. 'thanks.'

mohammed rolls his eyes at you while he gets the iced coffee ready and you put each pastry neatly in a to-go box, because ava is right there and you certainly hadn't needed to get her name. but whatever, she's gorgeous and it's early. ava tucks the box of pastries under her arm. 'ava, tell me which is your favorite the next time you come in.'

ava seems delighted by this. a good sign. 'sure thing,' she says, and then waves.

/

the next morning, it all comes crashing down. there's horrendous traffic, even at 5 am, and you barely make it on time. there's a rush of rude ass customers way too early, and you spill a shot of espresso down your apron.

but, then you see beatrice, and it's wonderful, and perfect, and so great: you're ready today, to ask for her number; you can do it. but then you see ava walk in right behind her after holding the door open, and it's like slow motion when ava bumps into beatrice's side and laces their fingers together and places a sweet kiss to her shoulder. you know there are flowers that sit there, under her hoodie, gorgeous in their greyscale, and ava seems to know as well.

'ayanna,' beatrice says, the biggest, most contented smile on her face, 'good morning.'

you nod and smile, although you're a little crushed. 'hey, beatrice. and hi, ava.'

'hello!' it's way too early for this kind of cheer but it's a little infectious.

'this is my partner, ava,' beatrice says, as if it wasn't horrifically obvious.

'back from quite the business trip,' ava says, looking at the pastries again. 'very remote, no sweets. gotta make up for lost time, you know?'

beatrice blanches a little but ava looks at her sweetly and she recovers. 'can i get my usual, and whatever chaotic order ava wants?'

ava laughs. 'my favorite was a tie,' she says, 'between the chocolate croissant and the olive oil coffee cake. which, i know, beatrice, you had said, but whatever, okay?'

beatrice smiles. 'okay, ava.'

they both, despite their bickering, are so tangibly happy your spirits lift. you'll take the L, if you have to, for people to have what they clearly do. they overtip, as always, and then take their leave.

'ouch,' mohammed says. '0 for 2 this morning.'

you sigh. 'more fish in the sea, i guess. gotta keep the faith.'

he laughs. 'that's the spirit.'

//

jillian

'okay,' ava says, sitting up as best she can with a grimace, 'if bea can't get into bed with me, what about you?'

you spare a glance for beatrice, who only rolls her eyes in amusement and underlying sadness: ava is in pain, to the point where she can't walk, can barely sit or lie down. she's on muscle relaxers and pain medicine so she's comfortable, but it's complicated and tedious, to try to fix her spine — or, more realistically, stabilize it — without killing her.

'how about we see how you're feeling after surgery?'

ava groans. 'that's so boring, jillian.'

you walk to her bedside and take her hand, squeeze it gently. 'ready?'

ava takes a deep breath, braver than anyone you've ever known in your life, time and time again. she looks at beatrice, who bends down and kisses ava gently. ava tucks a strand of beatrice's hair behind her ear and then cups her face. 'in this life.'

beatrice nods. 'in this life.'

'i love you, bea.'

beatrice kisses ava's forehead, eyes closed in reverence. 'i love you, ava.'

ava looks at you and then nods, teary and afraid. 'ready.'

other than your son, you have never been as determined as you are now. you control all of the tech to make sure ava is fully sedated but still alive, that the halo is dormant enough to allow the surgeons to work on her spine without it healing their interventions immediately. it's kind of a miracle, you think, that it all works — but, then again, it seems that ava is prone to miracles. it goes smoothly, without a hitch. ava will have chronic pain and limited mobility, at least some days, during flares — but it will be manageable. it will be livable.

beatrice is asleep when you bring ava back into the room, wheeling the bed as quietly as possible. she stirs, exhausted, from her chair, and you get to tell her — and then, after, a crowded room of ava's people, ava's family, waiting nervously — that it had gone as best as it could. you were sure she was alive, and that she'd wake up, and that, as far as you can understand, her pain would be significantly reduced. ava deserves more than that, much more, but it's what you can give.

you wake beatrice gently, a squeeze to her shoulder. you tell her first, because ava loves her: 'she did great. everything went as perfectly as it could.'

beatrice sniffles and then stands and hugs you. 'thank you,' she says, strong and calm and trembling with the force of it: the love of her life, safe and cared for.

'hot,' ava rasps from bed, and beatrice laughs and lets go of you and hurries to ava's side, takes her hand.

'hello, darling.'

ava lifts her hand and cups bea's cheek, and then wiggles her toes under the blanket. she grins up at beatrice, then grins at you. 'it worked?'

'yes,' you say, and it can't bring back your son and you can't fix the world, heaven or hell, but this — this — you can do: 'it did.'

//

mary

'hey,' you say, softly, when you notice beatrice start to stir on the couch. she presses her nose into the pillow behind her head, then the couch cushion, and then reaches up and rubs her eyes, scratches above her ear, and scrubs a hand over her face and blinks dazedly.

'a new shift?' beatrice looks around at the walls and windows darkening, trying to gain her bearings. she's in a hoodie and shorts, comfortable and soft, a pair of pale pink socks on her feet, her broken leg in its brace propped on a few pillows. ava had carefully draped a soft blanket over her, but beatrice had thrown it mostly to the side in her sleep.

'we're not working, beatrice.' you say it kindly, though, and offer her a glass of water with a metal straw ava had shown you proudly in one of the drawers in their kitchen. she sips greedily, without any embarrassment — maybe she's on pain meds enough to not care; maybe she's known you for so, so long it doesn't matter; maybe she's been shown a degree of love you have known only once.

she pats your hand. 'i know.' she wrinkles her nose. 'where's ava?'

'i threatened her to take a walk.'

beatrice laughs. 'glad to know she still understands who the best of us is.'

you want to argue with her — you're the best of us, beatrice; you always have been — but her head lolls to the side on the cushion and her eyes are fluttering open and closed. 'i like your haircut,' you offer instead. you wonder, with pride, what she's learned about herself, what she's let come forward that she's always known.

she smiles softly. 'yeah?'

'yeah. you’ve got a great soft dyke vibe going on. looks good on you.'

you’re not sure about the word, but you love her and you understand. and — she grins. ‘that’s the goal. androgynous and comfortable. i — i’ve grown into what i want, i think.’

'speaking for myself, i love to see it. it’s a whole vibe.’

‘yeah.’ she looks down and fiddles with her phone case for a second, not coordinated like usual. 'hey, so, feel free to tell me to fuck off forever, if you want, but one of my best friends is... basically the best.' she squints, focusing so intently and still producing a mildly incoherent sentence. it’s charming. 'i know there's no one that could — i know, mary. i know. but i think you'd like her.'

your heart aches, because beatrice lost ava but she came back; because beatrice has hurt all the same. and shannon wouldn't have wanted you to shut yourself off from the world. 'she's hot?'

beatrice laughs delightedly, pushing herself to sit up further. 'very, very hot. if you need backup, just ask ava.'

'ava thinks everyone is hot.'

'true. but, most of all, me.'

she says it with such stoned confidence it's hard to even tease her. 'okay,' you say, 'when should i meet your friend, then?'

beatrice gets out her phone and slowly clicks through a few screens, then squints. 'she'll be here in twenty minutes for dinner.' she holds her phone close to your face, not at all steady, but you do make out your name and then ray making the best birria ever (for ava) one right after another.

'should i stay for dinner, then?'

she grins. 'i think i'm falling back asleep. so you should definitely stay. she could use some company.' she stares into space for a minute. 'let me send ava a voice note so they know not to pester you when they get back.'

'maybe a text?'

beatrice just shrugs and sends a meandering three minute long voice note, sort of explaining the situation but mostly proclaiming her undying love, and so you follow up with a coherent text saying, beatrice wants me to meet your friend. if things are going well, can you not third wheel? you owe me, and ava responds with a, FUCK YEAH!!!!! you're the best and ray is the best!! bea is a genius, and then, i'll make up so many totally valid excuses to leave you two alone, and, finally, the patio is very romantic. dig into bea's stash of very expensive wine and whiskey too, in my honor.

you laugh, and tell beatrice that ava was excited about the idea.

'speak of the devil.'

ava puts her tote down when she gets in the front door, a bouquet of flowers poking out from it. 'mm, not quite.' she kisses bea on the top of her head and then proceeds to do the same to you, although you swat her away. 'try god's favorite angel instead.'

'i will never.'

beatrice looks at ava, adoringly, too much for you to stomach sometimes. 'want to go to the balcony? i can nap out there just as easily as in here.'

'totally,' ava says. 'mary, have fun with ray. you can text me when the birria is finished and i'll just pop by to grab some for us. but she really is awesome, even just as a friend.'

'a spontaneous blind date,' you say, although you do have a few butterflies in your stomach. it doesn't feel wrong, to go on a date, although you do feel sad, and longing, because you had something beautiful and it didn't last. but, still: 'this better be as fun as you promise.'

'it definitely will be,' beatrice slurs, and ava looks at you amusedly.

'okay, you're way too high to be trusted in this situation. let's go.'

'i don't need help,' beatrice says, although it's a full task to watch her sit up and get her crutches from their resting place against the side of the couch. but she does it, slowly and unsteadily, and ava puts a careful hand to her low back when she wobbles. but then all is well, and beatrice tries to wink at you and fails, and it makes you laugh. 'have so much fun, mary.'

you promise to try, and you pick up the book ava had been reading earlier, pretending to do something with your hands as you hear them bicker as they very, very slowly make their way up down the hall, but eventually a door closes and it's quiet. hey shannon, you pray, as you often do, i might kiss someone else soon. sorry. but i think you would be happy in this life, especially if she's hot. ava is annoying, but so good; you would be proud of her. beatrice you're always proud of, i know it. i love you, in the next.

it settles something inside you, and when ray lets herself in their front door, your breath catches a little: she has a mess of black curls cut to her ears, and tattoos down both arms, a linen button up only fastened halfway up her chest, a few chains sitting there. she's smaller than you, and she tucks her sunglasses into her shirt and then smiles.

'hey,' she says, 'i'm ray. she/her pronouns. beatrice sent me a very incoherent voice note that her "hot friend mary" was here, finishing out a business trip, and that i should woo you by making dinner tonight.' she holds up her grocery tote. 'hopefully you're mary, because you are in fact very hot.'

you laugh. 'well, i don't know about the last part, but i am mary. beatrice and i go way back.'

'amazing.' she settles, familiar, at the kitchen island. 'do you like to cook? beatrice and ava are disasters.'

'i love to cook.'

she grins. 'good,' she says. 'birria is their favorite, so it's good to know, if you'll be around for a bit.'

she's beautiful, and her forearms are strong and her hands quick when she starts to lay out the ingredients. you tell yourself to be brave: beatrice and ava and their big house full of love, overlooking the ocean. so you stand next to ray, elbows bumping for a moment, and she smiles at you in a way that makes you feel electric. 'i think i just might,' you say.

she nods down at the onions she's setting aside, but her smile doesn't fade at all. 'well, if you want help looking for a place, let me know. unless you want an insane house like this, in which i can't help at all.'

you laugh. 'it is beautiful, though.'

'yeah,' she says. 'i love it here.'

you think, as you let ray explain tasks and her great-grandmother's recipe, as you open a few windows and hear ava's laughter waft in from outside, like the sweet spices you add to the meat, as ray squeezes your hand, just once, after you finish chopping cilantro.

you might kill ava when she comes in to get their plates a few hours later and quips, 'oh good, you're already betrothed. congrats!' before walking away. you throw a chip at her that falls disappointingly short, but she laughs, and you think you just might love it here too.

//

angela

you're finding a table on the patio of your favorite wine bar when you see beatrice sitting at one near the railing, alone, writing in a journal. there's a part of you that doesn't want to interrupt but she's quiet, whenever she stops by for lunch with ava, and she reminds you a little of noel.

she looks up when you stand near, and then genuinely smiles. 'angela,' she says, and stands very properly; it's a breath of fresh air to see young people with manners still. 'what a nice surprise.'

'i can see you're busy.' gesture to her journal. 'so please feel free to say no, but would you mind if i joined you?'

'not at all,' she says, and then pulls out a chair for you before sitting back in her own and closing her journal. 'to tell you the truth, i haven't even ordered any wine yet.'

you laugh, charmed immensely already. 'well, shall we split a bottle? they have my favorite chardonnay here, if you like that.'

'i — yes,' she says. 'ava is working this afternoon, so that would be wonderful. i appreciate your company.'

she's a kid, you realize, all over again with a pang in your chest: when ruth had told you that she had invited someone in her early twenties to come to water aerobics, but then you had met ava and all of your frustration had gone by the wayside. 'likewise.' the server comes, one of your favorites, and asks happily if you'd like your typical glass. 'a bottle, instead, tommy,' you tell him, and he salutes with a grin, which makes beatrice laugh.

'you like this spot?'

'i do,' you say. 'it gets good light.'

she seems to understand what you mean, because she leans back and lets the sun rest on the planes of her face peacefully. ava hadn't stopped talking for days about beatrice cutting her hair, months ago, even more excited than when she herself had shown up with pale purple hair — ridiculous, in a way, but she had been happy and young and so you grant her it all. beatrice's has grown out a bit by now, which ava still talks about, and her muscles, and the freckles across her nose, all exuberant young love — but you can tell, you've always been able to tell, when someone feels comfortable in their skin. the utter joy of being a space where someone can become.

'i love the light here,' she says. 'i grew up in london, and then switzerland, so i've come to appreciate the sun.'

'my wife wanted to move here for that reason alone.' you laugh. 'we met in oakland, but she was so set on los angeles.'

beatrice seems deeply unfazed by wife, and thanks tommy for pouring her wine after you taste yours. 'how long were you together?'

'fifty-four years,' you say. 'married for fifty-two of them.' you roll your eyes. 'legally, for eleven, but i never cared much for that distinction.'

'of course,' she says. 'and, not to sound trite, but i'm sorry, for your loss.'

and it had been a profound one: you had no idea how to get up each morning, until ruth had dragged you to this ridiculous water aerobics class. so you smile, gently. 'noel was a light in this world. the breadth of that love — i wouldn't trade a single minute.'

she swallows, glances down and swirls her wine. 'i can only hope to have the same, with ava.'

you reach out and squeeze her hand. 'if it's all dependent on love, i'm certain you will. ava adores you.'

she sighs, looks into the sun again. 'i used to be a nun.'

you can't help but laugh. 'did you really?'

beatrice nods, and waits a moment before she laughs too. 'it seemed like the only thing that would keep me safe, from — from myself, i suppose. but then, of course, i met ava. a divinity, i suppose, more than i could've ever imagined, really.'

'noel was a reverend,' you say, and remember the benedictions she prayed at your feet: her neat suits and short hair and round-rimmed glasses as she got older, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes when she smiled.

beatrice smiles. 'would you like to tell me about her?'

you would, very much so, and so you do: you met at a protest when you were nineteen and she was twenty-one, and you kissed her two nights later underneath an apple tree just starting to blossom. she put you through law school, working three jobs, and when you finally got a job at a firm and ferociously worked your way up — for her — she went to divinity school. you had many children — beautiful boys in love with each other; beautiful girls in love with themselves — pass through your home, often showing up at noel's church with no family anymore. you fed them, and you had to watch so many of them die. and then — and then the world healed itself, in one particular way, and it was never easy; it has never been easy. you married noel once, in your garden, with your friends, and you married her again in her own church, years and years later, the rainbow flag outside and the stained glass the same kind of holy. it has been hard, and sorrowful, but it was worth it. the joy was worth it.

you see the gentle set of beatrice's shoulders, the way her chest is flat beneath her shirt, and you know she understands.

she sniffles and wipes under her eyes and then squeezes your hand tightly. 'i don't quite know what to say, but — thank you, for sharing. what a beautiful love.'

you clear your throat. 'yes. but, noel made me promise not to live a boring life, or to withhold any of my love. so if you have any aunts who might be interested —' you wiggle your eyebrows — 'please let me know.'

she laughs. 'unfortunately, i don't. but i'll be on the lookout.'

you make a big show of acting disappointed. 'well, i know you're taken — not that that has always stopped me before — but i'll take pity on ava. i like her.'

beatrice blushes, all the way to the tips of her ears, and you grin.

you finish your bottle of wine together, and she tells you about judo and aikido and about ava's new interest in geology; she asks about your greyhound rescue, malcolm, and his newest sweaters. she pays the bill, despite your protests — it's a particular joy of mine to use my homophobic parents' trust fund for queer gifts and adventures.

'bring ava, for dinner sometime,' you say. they have a house on the beach and a love that's so safe, so bright — but the world harms and harms and harms, and they are your children too.

'i would love that,' beatrice says, quiet and grateful. 'i would really love that.'

//

dakota

training service dogs is, in your opinion, the absolute best job in the world. your organization focuses on multi-purpose dogs, for medical and psychologic assistance, often both. it's a challenge, especially if handlers aren't fully equipped. but sometimes, it's your favorite thing ever.

when you first meet ava — and beatrice — you're charmed immediately. ava has a cane but sits down on the floor without hesitation to take korra into her lap, who immediately pinch bites but nuzzles into ava's arms anyway. 'bea,' she says, 'oh my god.'

'her name is korra,' you say, and beatrice laughs, just once, when ava perks up. 'she's small enough that you could change it, if you wanted to, but —'

'i love legend of korra,' ava cuts in. 'bisexual heroine! sick back tattoo. hot brilliant rich girlfriend.' she soots beatrice a wink, which makes her blush. 'i am not changing a perfect name for a perfect girl.'

'well then,' you say, 'do you mind if i sit with you and walk you through the plan?'

'oh,' ava says, 'i can get up. i just got excited.'

you wave her off. 'i like to play with her too. she's so sweet.'

'bea,' ava says with a grin, relieved that your decision was exclusively about the dog and nothing to do with her disability, 'you wore your old jeans just for this occassion.'

beatrice sighs, but she sits without any hesitation and melts, a little, when ava puts a squirming korra in her arms. 'hi, sweet girl,' she says, and runs her hand along korra's soft head and her feather-light spine. then she looks at you, 'do you mind if i record you? just audio. i know you'll give us all the instructions, but i find it helpful to have all forms of processing available so i can understand best.'

ava shoots you a glance sideways, trying not to laugh, but you keep it together. 'sure.'

beatrice and ava come in every session, five minutes early, with korra making incredible progress. eventually, ava comes by herself and happily explains that she's learned how to drive with hand controls on the days she needs to, which is fucking awesome. when you tell her that, she laughs and nods.

korra is a rockstar with her positive reinforcement training, and ava reports every time some new milestone she's reached. you'll work with the both of them for at least another year, but — 'you've done such an incredible job already, ava.'

ava shrugs, scratches behind korra's ears where she's happily sitting by ava's chair, calm and panting a little because she'd just worked on some difficult commands. 'i love to learn.' she shrugs. 'and i really love korra. i guess it's just — it is what it is, right? life and pain and whatnot. and, anyway, she helps.'

korra licks your hand when you offer her a small bite of a hot dog, and you swear she smiles at you. 'yeah, i know she does.'

//

marcus

Just do me a favor and look over the project before you roll your eyes at me, ekugbe texts you. admittedly, she is one of your favorite architects to work with, but she's also your ex. It's a good friend of mine, she follows up with, as if that's a plus. whatever. It's something you'll find meaning in, I promise.

it's annoying, because she's probably right, you think, and then she's definitely right when you open her email a few hours later and see detailed, gorgeous plans to redo a house on the water so that's it's ADA accessible. it's sleek and all clean lines, perfect materials planned; the owners, beatrice gu-knight and ava silva, you read, had clearly spared no expense in their plans, and, inevitably, ekugbe's mock ups are beautiful. you sigh. I'll meet with them, you text. you type out, But not because of you and then erase it, mostly because you sister keeps telling you that you don't need to send out more negative energy into the world.

you call beatrice's number the next day, and she's very proper and very british, and when you meet her at the house later, you're kind of in awe at how stunning it is already.

'we bought it as is,' she explains, 'but my partner, ava, needs it to be accessible for wheelchair usage now.' she doesn't sound sad, not a single regret at having to change one of the simplest, most well-designed and amazing houses you've ever seen. she's inches shorter than you but commanding still, straight backed and quietly confident, dressed in simple linen pants and a t-shirt, a cardigan thrown over her shoulders, a dark green beanie and lighter green glasses, barefoot — rich in the understated way that some people in los angeles are, palpably and casually, and you know that anything you need will be there for you, right away.

'i'd like to keep the doors to the patio, for sure,' she tells you, leading you on a tour. they space is designed to be indoor/outdoor, with doors that open all the way to a small hot tub and a giant patio. 'i'm sure you saw the blueprints ekugbe drew up — and, by the way, sorry, i know you have a complicated past, but she really did say you were the best, especially with projects like this.'

'it's totally fine,' you tell her, and when you see the release of tension in her shoulders, you genuinely mean it. she explains that they'll want to move the primary bedroom and bathroom onto the first floor, down a hallway that currently has two offices. you've contracted on many houses this big before, so the space is something of a blessing. 'that won't be a problem, especially since it doesn't look like the wall between them is load bearing.'

'great,' beatrice says. 'that's what ekugbe told me, so it's good to make sure.'

you go through the rest of the house: they'll need a wheelchair lift along the stairs, which won't be hard to install because it's just one staircase, straight up to a big enough landing that there won't be any issues. she wants to redo their kitchen and bathrooms entirely, so that everything will be reachable and safe. it'll be a huge project, but one you feel — even though your head is spinning at changing a house like this — is important. is a labor of love.

'ava and i will be here for the next two weeks, and then in europe for a few months. what do you think a reasonable timeline is for you? i would like to set up a rental for us, if you need longer than that.' it's not snooty, although the words are. it's matter of fact, just a series of tasks and logistics.

'as long as materials come on time, especially if we order them now, i should be able to do it in that timeframe.'

'wonderful,' she says, and clasps her hands in front of her chest, an endearing gesture. 'well, please send over anything to sign and payment methods, and let me know a start date.'

'will do.'

'also, marcus?'

'hmm?'

'can i help you blow the wall out?' she grins. 'i've always wanted to. i have four black belts, if that helps.'

you just laugh. 'yeah, sure. why not?'

/

ava sits in her chair, pretty, in the same linen pants that beatrice had worn the other day, which is kind of funny and kind of sweet. she looks significantly more sad than beatrice about the state of their house, though, as you lay down tarps in the office to protect the floors.

'i swear i only agreed to this because bea promised you'd let her use a sledge hammer.'

'it'll be beautiful, when it's done.'

she sighs. 'i really do believe you. just, a bummer, you know?'

'my brother uses a chair,' you tell her. 'i like projects like this. and, plus, this house is amazing no matter what. your patio almost brought me to tears.'

she laughs. 'yeah, we fell in love with it right away.'

beatrice walks in in a cutoff tank and work pants, practical boots, and ava groans.

'best roleplay of my life,' she mumbles, and beatrice rolls her eyes.

'thank you for letting me have a little fun, marcus.'

'of course.'

'do i need a hard hat?'

'definitely not,' you manage without laughing, and hand her a sledge hammer.

ava watches, riveted, as you and beatrice go at the wall a few times, and then beatrice pauses and looks toward ava. 'want to get a few hits in? it's very cathartic.'

ava hesitates.

beatrice just pauses, patient, and then says, 'unless your back is hurting, i know you'll be strong enough. it's not that heavy.'

ava grins and wheels forward eagerly, lifts the sledgehammer and then nods. beatrice offers her her safety glasses and then backs away to the threshold of the door. ava swings, just fine, and gets a good chunk of the wall to break off from where beatrice had already been working, and she laughs and looks back at beatrice with a happy, relieved expression.

eventually, your crew takes over, and beatrice and ava take their leave to a rental for a few nights before they go do whatever they're doing in europe. the house comes together beautifully, it really does.

at the end, you call ekugbe, maybe for drinks.

it surprises you, the light you're able to let in.

//

mari

'do you think i'll be faster than bea?'

you laugh, show ava where to put her hands on the wheels of the racing chair for maximum and most efficient torque. 'with practice, for sure.'

'gross,' she says. 'why not right away?'

'it just takes a little getting used to. but i'm certain you will, if you enjoy it.'

'well, you're ripped, so i'm enjoying it so far, that's for sure.'

you roll your eyes; you know both beatrice and ava well enough to know that ava's flirting is fun and entirely harmless. but, still, she's beautiful, so you allow yourself to preen nonetheless.

ava lets out a big breath. 'okay, let's fucking go, right?'

'i'll ride next to you for now, and then you can race beatrice.'

'sick.' she pushes a few times and picks up some speed, and you watch exactly what you'd felt yourself the first time you'd gotten into a chair like this: a big smile spreads across her face as she rounds the corner of the track without any problems. when she slows down you do too, and you're worried for a second before she just sniffles and wipes her cheeks. 'this is... this is so fun?'

'yeah,' you say. 'it's kind of the best.'

'as a kid, after i got hurt, and then, you know, after things started to get worse for me lately, i — i didn't think i could do this, ever. it's just — i feel so full. and so fast!'

'i didn't think i'd get to do this either, after i got hurt.' you'd had a complete spinal cord injury, when you were twenty, a car accident that wasn't your fault. your whole life had changed, in a split second — a track scholarship and rock climbing and snowboarding and judo evaporating, just like that, when you woke up from surgery, or at least that's what you thought. but your big sister had sat by your bedside and researched inpatient rehab, and financing, and outpatient rehab, and then, a fucking miracle in your life: paralympic racing. it's led you to do everything you loved before, just creatively, and, 'now i have four gold medals, so, here we are.'

'yeah,' ava says. 'here we fucking are!'

you reach over and high five her, and you look over to where beatrice is sitting on the bleachers; even from far away you can see her gay ass little smile at ava's joy.

'also, the gold medals?' ava says. 'extremely hot.'

you laugh. 'do you ever stop?'

ava shakes her head. 'hardwired, i'm afraid.' she frowns. 'unless, of course, you're uncomfortable, in which case i will stop immediately.'

'oh, no,' you say, 'keep going. it's fun.'

'i'm an excellent wingwoman, at any time. you just let me know.'

'i'll take you up on that soon, i'm sure.'

she laughs and takes off again, getting the hang of her form and how to lean into turns. eventually, she calls beatrice down from the bleachers; beatrice is probably one of the most terrifying athletes you've ever met, but ava's pretty fast already. they race a few times, laughing by the end, trash talking incessantly, beatrice eventually leaning down to kiss ava, both of them sweaty.

'last one back to the bleachers has to do the dishes tonight,' ava says, and takes off full tilt. she barely stops in time before ramming into the stands, but beatrice is laughing too hard to come anywhere close. it's joy, you think, in the hot sun. real joy.

//

mother superion

'so,' ava says, fidgeting in front of you, shifting from one foot to the other, rocking up on her toes. she's gotten older, a few years enough for you to be able to tell the subtle differences.

'yes, ava?'

'okay, i know this is stupid and antiquated, but, well...'

'is this a crisis of any kind?'

she shakes her head.

'then just breathe.'

she takes in a deep breath and lets it out, then sits on the bench next to you when you pat the space. 'i love beatrice.'

'i know.'

'i, well, i guess i'm asking you if i can marry her? i want to propose, and i'll do it, whatever you think, but — it would mean a lot, to me, to have your blessing.'

you hold out your hands and wait for her to take both. there is something holy in her back, something that you had thought was the most sacred thing in the world until you met her. but there is something holier, consecrate, in the way she loves — beyond the highest order you have ever known. in the way she loves you all, and life, but especially in the way she loves beatrice, one of your favorite people in the world. she died for it. you know, in a way that makes you ache, she would do it again.

but the war is over. the war is over, and you have watched them both become.

'there is nothing in this life that would make me happier than to bless your marriage, ava.'

'oh,' she breathes out, runs a hand through her hair, long now, with the tips dyed pink — just for fun! — and then smiles. 'okay. well, great. just gotta get bea to say yes then.'

you don't want to be unkind — you can feel the halo humming with ava's very genuine nerves — and so you don't laugh. instead, you ask, 'do you have a plan? a ring?'

ava lights up, and the halo's hum shifts to comfortable, warm. they'll go to switzerland, she tells you, and pulls up a picture of the ring on her phone — simple and elegant and handsome, all at once. she wraps you in a hug as you tell her so.

'i love you, ava,' you say.

she sniffles. 'i really love you.'

you feel the halo against your hand, through her sweater. 'please send me a save the date.'

//

'ava,' you say, as ava paces around their bedroom. 'bea is going to be right out there, waiting for you. after everything, you cannot possibly be nervous about this.'

she shakes her head. 'about marrying bea? definitely not.' she's in her dress, flowy lace and cotton, off-white because i'm certainly not a virgin, she had said while she was looking, and than had laughed and winked as you had rolled your eyes. 'i'm worried about the halo going off.'

you want to laugh, so hard, but it actually is an issue: most of ava and bea's friends and family don't know anything about the halo, mostly for their protection. 'i'm sure you can get all the glowing out on your honeymoon.'

ava does laugh, then, relieved. 'that's for sure.'

and it's beautiful: you get to stand in front of the altar your friend built for her partner, and you get to pray for their whole lives to be full of this stunning, soft love. they say their vows, and beatrice cries the entire time, which eventually makes ava cry, and then you cry, and then you all laugh.

'by the power vested in me by god, and the state of california,' you say, 'i now pronounce you wives.' ava laughs, delighted, and turns to bea, then looks at you impatiently. you roll your eyes. 'go ahead,' you say.

ava wastes no time, leaning forward to capture bea's lips in a sweet kiss, which beatrice lets linger long enough for a few good-natured wolf whistles from the crowd. ava kisses bea's forehead and they smile, alone in their own universe, before turning to everyone. there are cheers and you're pretty sure everyone was crying.

you get drunk on champagne at the reception and cry even more when you see beatrice in her tang jacket, when she tells you that you were right: there's no shame in loving ava; there never has been. and, a miracle, ava is hers. there are things more certain to you than faith.

'your marriage is going to last annoyingly long,' you tell her. 'i'm sure of it.'

she holds you tight. 'i'm sure of it too.'

//

salma

your aunts are the fuc—freaking coolest. not only do they visit often, but you get to visit them in california, where they live in a big house on the beach and sometimes take you to disneyland. your aunt bea teaches you to surf, and your aunt ava teaches you how to make a bunch of virgin cocktails — which you find very fun — and they both sit and do puzzles with you whenever you want, even if your brother gets bored.

your grandmother — you guess, you never met her and you've never even talked to her, but she was your dad's and beatrice's mother — dies one day. you don't really care; she apparently was a huge asshole to your aunt when she was little. your dad picks you up from school like normal, and you wait impatiently for asaad to make his way out.

your dad takes you to get ice cream and then tells you that she died. you don't care, which is maybe bad, but you don't owe her anything. people can be mean for no reason, to someone like you, to someone like your aunt bea, so you don't care.

your dad is quiet for a few days, and then your aunts visit. you do a little double take when your aunt bea takes her beanie off and her hair is shorter than you've ever seen it, but you hug her quickly, as tight as you can, your head reaching the middle of her chest — when your cat died in third grade your mom had taught you about grief, how it lasts a long time and it's okay to feel, how different cultures have different ways of expressing it. you hug your aunt ava too, and she ruffles your hair and cups your cheek. 'what's up, beautiful?' she says, and it makes you feel it, from someone so pretty: beautiful.

when you get older, your aunt bea will help you change your pronouns, and pick a new name — peace, you decide on — and she calls you her niece, which you love. when you get older, she'll be even more amazing to you, the way she's so kind in a world that hasn't been, the way she loves your dad and your brother and your mom, the way she loves your aunt ava.

for now, it's late and your aunt ava is asleep in the guest room, and your dad had kissed your forehead and gone off to the bathroom he shares with your mom. you go downstairs to get a glass of water, and you see your aunt sitting on the couch, peacoat rumpled and very still and, if your dad's breath was anything to go by, probably pretty drunk.

she looks up when she hears you, and then smiles gently, a little unfocused. you sit next to her, rub your hand along her buzzed hair with a laugh, and it gets her to laugh too. 'you look cool.'

she kisses your forehead. 'that's very kind.'

you play with her fingers, with the ring there, warm even though it's cold outside. 'you know,' you say, 'you've made the world safer for me.'

the sound that leaves her is between a laugh and a sob. you want to be smaller, just for a moment, so you could climb into her lap like you used to when she was little.

'i'm really sorry your mother sucked balls.'

then there's definitely a laugh: 'did aunt ava teach you that?'

you grin into her shoulder. 'i can neither confirm nor deny.'

she tugs you to her, buries her face in your hair for a moment and then wipes her cheeks.

'i'm glad i'm like you,' you say, the best you can for now.

'oh, darling,' she says, then swallows so she doesn't start crying again, you're pretty sure, 'i'm so glad. you are such a light in this world. don't let anyone let you believe you aren't wonderful.'

'i won't,' you say, a prayer, like you kneel and understand with your mom; a promise.

'and, you can always call me.'

'ew, on the phone?'

she laughs. 'or text, if you must.'

you burrow into her side even further. 'i'll call, aunt bea. i always will.'

//

g-d

of course, if there's anything you know, it's blessings.

you know beloved; you know holy. people call you by different names, all falling short, all trying to grasp at you. you know beloved, and worship, and belief.

you look down on them sometimes, because you can. ava — her name the familiar of eve; the meaning in a sacred language, life; something divine against her will in her back; one of your children who had faced more cruelty than she should have — laughs, every day. even on days that hurt for her, she smiles and she laughs and there is a love there: for your world, for its waves and the sun and stars and moon; she, too, sees that it is good. beatrice, gentle and unsure and certain, prays to you still, and to ava, which you don't begrudge her. she worships every day, the most faithful on earth.

of course, there are things you let run their course, the small joys and small miseries: swimming in the ocean, chocolate cake, the first fall of snow; traffic jams and broken wrists and lilith. there are some things even you can't entire shift: ava's broken back and the heaviness in beatrice's mind sometimes. but you watch them, from time to time, in their house on a beach that brings them wonder, when they visit the mountains and fall asleep in front of a warm fireplace, listening to a record that skips before you step in and turn the machine off.

you'll let them grow old together, of course — greying hair and ava's impatience with politics and beatrice's stiff knees in the cold. there's time, for the halo and for all of it, but ava died to save the world, once. ava died for love, and she lives for it too.

in this life, they say to each other, quietly and often. you let things run its course but you step in, from time to time: you will give them peace. they'll want more of them, greedy, and perhaps you'll let them — and the next and the next and the next.

but, of course, this life, this life — you make sure it's a good one.

[system-of-a-feather]

(more programming / TBMC / RAMCOA talk; nothing too heavy, same as last post, we just put it under the cut for ourselves cause these topics don't benefit most parts to engage with and thus we kept it off our own notifications)

But honestly, lately with how far into recovery we are and how much on and off fusing with XIV has stabilized me a lot more and made me a lot more clear with who I am and all that shit, I've largely been thinking a lot on the shit I've been through and all the parts I've been, cause at this point, I'm really trying to reconnect with my scattered subsystem parts.

Less so "scattered" and more so long lost because - for those that don't know / havent followed - like nine months or so ago an old version of myself that went by Data just kind of imploded under a lot of stress, pressure, trauma, and self destructive loops that were set off by the way we were healing and what not.

It was honestly really fucked up and a really unfair cause we were genuinely trying really hard to be "a good part" but programming and shit kept had us between "literally dying and at complete overload" or "doing shit that hurts ourselves and the system" and so we'd always just end up doing shit that caused problem and honestly, we had done everything we could to remove ourselves in that form from the picture in a healthy and failed multiple times - and so it was honestly kinda super fucked that when trying to stop existing, we instead shattered into like 4 or 5 parts

But in the end of it, I was a part that existed as a complete - for lack of better words - "burn out" and very extreme "turned off" response to the programs that were being regularly triggered prior to self implosion and it was a huge mess at first, but it ended up with me becoming the host of that subsystem and really? As much hell as it was, the implosion and generation of another subsystem really I think disconnected a lot of the experiences we had as Data and managed to shut down a number of parts to actually let me develop beyond just a "burnt out" state.

And in hindsight? It really worked because while I'm still Data, still part of that heavily and completely fucked programmed original part, I was "generated" in a state of literally being unable to deal with anything and as a part to cope with that and with space, really became a more developed part who is centered around the ability to cope and deal with what we were programmed to do and to.... NOT do that.

And now that I'm a lot more stable and full of a part, I honestly can go back and collect and look back at our experiences of how things have happened and how each part felt and worked and put things back together. At this point I hold almost everything Data originally did. I can look back and replay things and understand things and understand where everything came from, but I'm *not* Data - I'm Chunn (everyone in the brain says I should start spelling it Cheng or at least claim that as my secret Chinese name because its pronounced the same but I like the Chunn spelling so they can fuck off /hj)

And in that sense, the thing Data wanted so bad - to not be here and to not be in the way and to have anything but chronic stress and trauma responses and to just not cause problems for everyone in a desperate attempt to feel safe again - while it's not at all in the way he wanted or imagined it to be, he - we - got it. I don't resemble him much at all anymore, and that's sad in it's own way, but at the same time, is that not the very wish itself? To be ourselves but in a form we created and not in the form someone else created us for?

Anyways, these days it's kind of funny cause I basically serve a roll for the system that is the OPPOSITE of what we were programmed to do and while other parts are not as "impacted" as I was, I do end up sitting here and looking at the "less impacted" parts and go "Okay well that came from this shit I did and you don't notice it but that behavior of yours is intended to synergize (negatively) with what I was programmed to do so I'm going to tell you that I don't want to participate in that"

Cause as much as we were the overtly programmed part, I'm really realizing that it neither started nor ended with me and it really is oddly nice to be able to look at that and help in detangling this garbage.

And not to go into the details for safety reasons, but recently our therapist asked a question to Riku / Fei as to why we were doing XYZ and not another thing that would be more in character for them - and at the time they came up with some round about reason and explanation to which I had to ask, when they were thinking about it the next day, ".... is it not just because [feeling and condition that I know was an active major trigger]? Because you know you can state that and that is a perfectly valid and healthy thing to say. You are allowed to think that." and the genuine level of which they seemed to very hesitantly state it to themselves as if they were afraid to Set Something Off - it just really clicked something with me.

Cause that would have been me. That would have been me that would have been set off. That would have been me that would have changed that thought into a borderline / active crisis and/or mess that would be far more stress than just compliance to the programming. And in this moment, not only was I NOT being Set Off by it, but I was encouraging them to try it again despite many many many years of reinforced "if you do that you will regret it"

And it's really kind of nice to see. I can't think as original Data would, I barely can comprehend just how stuck that version of me was - they were so deeply intertwined in the programming its unfathomable even though it was me and I have the memories of it. Thus, I can't say "Data would be happy and proud to see where we've come", but I would like to think - even in the hell they were in - that theyd be comforted to know where we ended up.

But I digress. I felt like sharing this most of today cause man have we come far.

[narwhalandchill]

(soo ignition teaser thoughts ig)

hmmmm im ngl the trailer itself as a like prelude to what is coming in 5.0 intrigue and plot wise is like. compared to the region teasers that came before w lazzo and overture. its just. its kinda bad im sorry KWKJKWDJKWDJK like okay cool seeing the new cast and production value is high as always (+ music) but its such a middling teaser for the story itself?? it feels like a powerpoint presentation of the cast more than anything narratively coherent with an inherent draw and mystery

like theres mavuika speaking to the flame thingy (xbalanque that u? "one entombed in the primal fire" perhaps????) with some intrigue i suppose as well as her brief thing w capitano. ororon also appearing to be working together or aligned with capitano given theyre standing together there which could make for an interesting plot thread but beyond that its very.... eh. its not giving us a lot to grip onto ya know???? and thats rly a shame especially since i also felt that way abt the teaser in the 4.8 livestream. i wish we got more

and sure theres a tournament wahoo but like. its really Not helping to hype up that thing when half the introduced cast isnt being like "OMG the tournament!!!!1!1 this is HUGE!!!1" (or even. "oh no this is BAD!!!1" to set up basic conflict. like why would they dread it?) but instead just. "oh right... the tournament 🙄🙄" like who thought that was a good idea 😭😭 if the PEOPLE of natlan dgaf abt the big plot event happening then how am i as the viewer supposed to feel majorly invested in it . wow theyre tossing a ball around . wow nobody wants it guess ur tournament is having a bit of a PR issue in the making mavuika lmao

anyway i wouldnt even call myself a true capitano glazer despite being a fatuiHQ enjoyer on the side but like. that hmph still carried welcome capHIMpeaktano truly o7 JWDJWDJKDWJK also did yall see the. anemo-ish turquoise flare when mavuika is confronting (?) him? wonder if thats a thing with her flames or is it implying cap as anemo or sth.... i think itd fit him decent enough but ya. looking forward to HIM for sure

(+ congrats to him for losing the goofy timbs from arles animated short lmao like his design looks so fucking sick now)

character design wise uhhhh. well theres the obvious huge fucking issue here and while id say that hoyo p much already showed their true colors on the matter with sumeru that doesnt rly. make it any less disappointing and egregious wrt all the cultures and peoples theyre So willing to gather inspiration from in all possible aspects Other than the diversity of the people themselves. like its just... bad and such a shame but also not very surprising unfortunately.

(and really it just. looks especially bad given they clearly Can put melanin on people its just... enemy mobs only.)

beyond that i kind of dont have anyone that super catches my eye rn??? mainly because . well leaks moment eek but its basically official info now so basically. xilonens existence as a geo and a 5* (which like . u dont need leaks to guess she will be im sorry jdwjdw) was leaked a bit ago as well as the patch she should appear meaning. im actually in chiori rerun savings mode since its very high chance that she will be back w xilonen if anyone. so thats my plan for now kjdwjkdwjkdwjk

in terms of the actual cast i do like kinich and ororons designs v much, the design motifs of the latter especially are interesting bc those eye-like patterns are almost giving quantum symbol (= black hole imagery) to me???? and thats V interesting especially if hes actually working w capitano and the fatui. now him being a cat boy or whatever animals ears those turn out to be isnt like sth thats huge for Me personally but i do think hes valid and also W for anyone whos into that, congrats guys im happy for u ! but like fr itd be such an insane twist if hoyos Finally introducing the void quantum abyss whatever element w him (and maybe cap too.) bc that symbol Rly is looking Curious. or then hes just electro lol. for kinich its like. yeah fair he might be xiao-tighnari-gaming from minecraft ill admit that but. i do like the color scheme and his outfit a lot JKWJKDJKDWJKD so like i forgive it

w the girlies i overall find them all like. quite nice but so far without any personality + lore known its hard to settle my complete thoughts on them just yet. tho citlali being pink is super refreshing for genshin since we do have a shocking absence of it so like shes definitely one im drawn to, chasca looks interesting and like she could play a bigger part plot wise (maybe?) so that might be neat. both her and citlali being cryo is kinda surprising?? but cool. maybe ill get to unbench my shenhe and play some cryo teams again lmao freeze has been dead in abyss for so long now....

xilonen again w the kemomimi isnt sth im particularly into or not into but she looks cool, depending on personality and how her kit synergies turn out (+ assuming the chiori rerun, the fate of those pulls too), i might try for her as well? theres an Energy to her i like it. if she has proper Attitude and flair thats gonna be a massive bonus for me

mualani i think is rather bland to me, sth about her outfit and design just doesnt click for me even if the shark thing from the teaser before is neat and everything. the chibis are never sth im actively drawn to but like both do look okay, im kinda hoping kachina could be a lynette moment for 5.x and end up a free 4* since her exploration roomba looks p fun

anyway then theres. mavuika and i. well at least the design wasnt. That concept art one (ThoseWhoKnow...) . so instant massive W improvement solely on that basis holy fucking shit but ehhhhh im sorry i still dont know how to feel abt the very modern like. biker bodysuit thingy. im not a huge fan of the bodysuit type designs anyway so its not that surprising but still. her eyes + hair is absolutely stunning tho like not a question at all.

tbh in a way i kinda feel like having too many Thoughts on her design is kinda just unnecessary bc like. shes the archon. of Course the kit is going to be insane so i will get her anyway (UNLESS a pyro onfielder JKWJKJKWJKWJKWFKJ like god please no). and in terms of like is her design and energy from what this vid is giving us good enough that i wont like. Actively resent having to get her for meta and strong teams??? Absolutely. so in that sense ig its all cool lmao

but yeah. idk i just think as a teaser for the upcoming story its rly a shame how weak this felt for me???? like sure overture ended up being a bit of a misleading teaser since it gave the impression of arle as this mastermind of the fontaine AQ which didnt rly happen but it still served as a source of hype and intrigue. and yes lazzo is sth that can Never rly be beat in terms of how out of nowhere it was and how fucking insane the whole harbinger reveal went (+ elogia cinerosa existing) for lore and long term hype but its just. unfortunately those 2 are the regional teasers this natlan one is supposedly meant to parallel and it just didnt deliver anything comparable to those for me

like still looking forward to natlan and seeing the rest of its cast (like im fairly convinced the flame thingy might be xbalanque and hes gonna be a big deal ultimately or sth) and where it goes and all its environments but this trailer didnt rly. grip me the way i wouldve expected it to. which is unfortunate kdjkdwjkwjkdwj but yea thats all

[rivetgoth]

I honestly think as someone who goes out clubbing (or to an adjacent nightlife social event) like 1-3x a week on average, and especially as like, a kinda faggy short guy tbqh, I would say genuinely one of thee biggest like, skills to learn is how to both be appropriately discerning and able to read people's vibes quickly to stay safe but also not close your heart completely to new people and give the appropriate benefit of the doubt as well?

I think I'm a particularly picky person when it comes to meeting new people tbh, I will pretty quickly decide someone is not trustworthy over what may appear to be minor missteps but it is because it's not a risk I'm willing to take. especially after the aforementioned years in the nightlife mentioned above. But I also really try to leave room for understanding that we're all awkward and weird and many of us in the scene are autistic and/or otherwise neurodivergent or struggling with social skills and we're in a community literally made by and for weirdos where drugs and alcohol are often involved; nobody is perfect, so it's learning to have an open heart and not have preconceived biases or make assumptions about people but also like, being willing to shut down shit that turns you off fast.

Like not to pat myself on the back but I'm gonna be honest, I have had soooooo many cases where I met someone, got a Weird Vibe, which sounds shallow but I don't mean "ooh they act kinda funny" I mean "huh that person showed subtle signs of not respecting boundaries like touching strangers without consent even if in a trivial/harmless way" or "that person made some off-color jokes or comments that while not in and of themselves entirely unforgivable could way too easily speak to a deeper more insidious world view," decided to politely distance myself and not pursue forging a relationship with them beyond casual acquaintance at best, and then was given confirmation later on that they were a genuinely physically dangerous person with a history of abuse or violence.

Like, the reality is there are a lot of predators in the nightlife. As much as it's this wonderful fantastic weird alternate reality where you can be your authentic self and explore these facets to your character you would not be able to in the daylight, play with fantasy and identity and have the freedom to play and express yourself in these wild ways, it's also a cover for genuinely dangerous people who are detached from all social dogma and feel that they can justify their behavior in these more lawless environments where stuff like kink and more "edgy" behavior is seen as more socially acceptable. For all of the absolutely amazing people I've met, literally pretty much all of my closest friends and relationships have formed from the underground / alternative nightlife scene, there are also pretty frequent allegations and scandals. It's the unfortunate reality, and while the very best events and promoters cultivate safe spaces to the best of their abilities, you can't keep 100% of them out.

I feel lucky in a weird way that I've developed what I think are pretty decent self preservation skills via being a weird fucking kid my entire life who has cultivated the vast vast vast majority of my relationships with other weird people (affectionate). I have so much love in my heart for genuine eccentrics and I think it is SO IMPORTANT to work actively to unlearn biases about what a Trustworthy or Untrustworthy person might look like or act like when they are not fucking hurting anyone, but I also don't give the time of day to people who make me uncomfortable. Basically I think learning what your own boundaries are, learning to communicate them, and learning to shut down those who invade them is just like, a genuinely necessary skill for being out in the nightlife. You need to know what you want and what you are and are not okay with. You need to learn pattern recognition—did this person stumble over their words once and say something that came out wrong, or does this person have a habit of making inappropriate remarks? Is this person exhibiting behavior that other people who have been dangerous or predatory have exhibited in the past? Can you make a reasonable link between that behavior, and the more predatory, overtly dangerous behavior?

[dinitride-art]

Okay. This post is about a poll that was about queer identity and I don’t feel like I could pick any of the options. My identity is not a debate and when someone has a different life experience than you and tells you, hey. What you did kinda excludes my existence and experiences. You listen to them, okay?

I have learned today that sapphic and achillean are two words being used to describe experiences of queer women and identity (and others- but I’ll get into that in a sec) and queer men and their identities. And those are neat. They’ve got a cool theme to them and historical significance. However, I have come to the realization that some people don’t actually understand what it means when I say nonbinary/genderqueer/gender is a wild spectrum.

First of all, I cannot define my sexuality by anything but the word queer. I’m sure there’s some very complicated words floating around somewhere that I can list to describe my exact experience but that sounds like far too much work. If a gay man doesn’t have to list twenty different things and explain them to simply say hey. I like men and I am a man. Then neither should I. However, I’m going to try and explain my experiences the best that I can because whatever most of you are thinking is wrong.

I call myself genderqueer because I like the word queer and nonbinary has simply never felt right for me. Now, you might have a basic grasp on what this means; someone who isn’t a man or a woman. That’s a great start! If you can understand the concept that there are people who exist who aren’t either men or women than that’s great. But it’s way more complicated than that. You’ve probably heard the terms afab and amab in regards to trans people. If you haven’t they’re acronyms for ‘assigned female at birth’ and ‘assigned male at birth.’ Basically whatever the doctor decided to write on your birth certificate. Now, listen very closely because I’m going to say something very important.

AFAB NONBINARY/GENDERQUEER PEOPLE ARE NOT AUTOMATICALLY WOMAN LITE.

What that means is that the phrase “nonbinary women” is the bane of my existence and if you say this to me in my vicinity be prepared for a fight. Now, people can identity as women and fuck around with gender, and hell, if someone calls themself a genderqueer/nonbinary woman they’ve got every right to do that. No one else can tell you who you are. It’s a problem when that is taken away from you. People still view afab and amab genderqueer and nonbinary people are two separate groups of people. And to that I say, I think the fuck not.

It’s okay if gender identities outside of the realm of men and women are beyond your comprehension. But at least have the decency of trying to understand us.

Hi, my names fisher. I’m genderqueer. I am not a man or a women but I use gendered terms as I see fit. Sometimes I look like what you would think ‘masculine’ is and sometimes more ‘feminine’ and sometimes neither and sometimes both. The expression of my gender identity is perceived in different ways, but it is not masculine or feminine no matter what anyone else thinks about it. Other peoples opinions on my identity and how I chose to live my life don’t matter to me. I am not a combination of a man and a woman, and I am not a gender less being (although some people are and they are in fact cool af). My gender expands beyond the idea of what a man is and what a woman is. It is best described as the endless expanse of thoughts and ideas from the core of the earth to the unknown depths of space and time.

You see how that’s hard to explain to people? You see how you might now understand that at all? You see how that’s probably extremely confusing to most people and doesn’t fit into any categories of gender and identity that most people have been taught?

You see how it’s easier to not tell me to pick between “trans and achillean” and “trans and sapphic” because there’s no way in hell either one of those describes me as a person?

Just. Give me another option because I’m telling you- me as a queergender person- that this isn’t enough. I would accept “other” or “queer” or “beyond your fucking comprehension apparently”. All of those are fine to me. But “who knows?” Me. I know. And I know that you probably don’t, and might never understand, and that’s okay. That’s how I live every single day of my life. I’ve accepted that. But give me the decency of another option. Because then I can at least say something in the tags. You don’t have to understand me, you just have to tolerate my existence. That’s where we are right now. Think about that for a bit.

And as my last thought on this post; don’t ever tell anyone that how they understand their identity is wrong because it doesn’t fit into how you understand the world.

[jinkieswouldyoulookatthis]

I'm (not) sorry if this is mean to say but people who do the 'you know they're brothers' thing are actually so unbelievably stupid. Just shockingly dumb as bricks. Past even the ridiculousness of saying that at all, it's so evident how little they've ever delved into anything complex and interesting, not through academia nor through hobbies. To throw up this completely useless 'defense' about them being related whenever they feel uncomfortable instead of taking any time at all to acknowledge that grown functional adults from all socioeconomic and national backgrounds are out here shipping this pairing, with developed brains and life experiences and griefs and losses and quirks and loves of their own, which means MAYBE just maybe the brain dead interpretation of us us running around kicking our feet going 'doy i love incest i'd do incest irl if i could' is flawed like??? Sometimes it really blows my mind how surface level these people are in intellect and in personality. They couldn't carry a coherent conversation about anything even if they tried

It does boggle the mind, doesn't it. When I'm feeling generous, which I try to be as often as I can manage, I remind myself that there is a wide array of experiences that people have had. Some of those experiences have taught some people how to critically separate fiction from reality, while some of them have actively suppressed the development of that particular skill set. Sadly, there are a lot of people out there who really struggle with the very concepts of imagination, empathy, or sympathy. So the idea that one can connect to a piece of fiction and embrace it because it is inherently problematic or disturbing is one that is beyond a lot of people's grasp.

I honestly think that part of this is fed by the blurring of the line between thoughts and actions too. Many groups preach that to think a thing is just as bad as to do a thing, so that when members of those groups see someone like me enjoying the idea of Sam and Dean fucking each other's brains out, they see no difference between that and me wanting to fuck my own sibling, no matter how many times that I assure them that I would never, that I do not and would not ever even think of my sister that way, let alone actually ever consider it 🤢. But there is no subtly or nuance between thoughts and actions for them. This lack of nuance also leads them to equate all incest situations as 100% always bad/evil, and basically reduces it all down to pedophilia and sexual assault. Now, pedophilia and sexual assault are bad, mmmkay, but I do not think that what consenting adults do between themselves (read: all involved parties are consenting adults), even if they are directly related individuals, is or should be anyone else's concern. But in fiction, you can literally do whatever you want to any of the fictional characters because they are not real people. <- and that right there is beyond them. It doesn't matter if it is gross or bad or wrong or whatever, you can have fictional characters do and suffer through it all and it's not harming anyone at all.

But whatever, I guess. They don't get it so they're not going to get it and that's actually okay, they don't have to. It would be nice if they did, but it is what it is. So I will continue to occasionally get snarky about it and otherwise go about my business of reading and writing about those Winchester brothers fucking the daylights out of one another.

[kulekrizpy]

finally seeing progress in my depression after more than a decade has me a little dazed. i have been depressed for half my life or longer

but it also has me feeling so good about how relieved i am and how much energy i'm beginning to have that i'm getting ... excited about things again? like i can imagine my future because i can believe i will continue to have energy

this has been a series of realizing i have ADHD, going into therapy because i could tell something was very wrong, beginning to poke out my boundaries and learning to honor them, truly accepting that i don't know my brain as well as i thought i did and forgiving myself for that, getting medication, and finally getting exercise and sun consistently.

it has been less than a month since i started walking and i'm seeing a huge uptick in energy. i'm getting stronger and i WANT to feel stronger. because i want to be more active and not hurt myself doing it

the walks get a little longer, i get so much peace from being in nature. there's comfort and perspective in there that has me accepting my mortality in a way that was terrifying to me before. and it relaxes my anxiety so much

i couldn't even think as clearly as i am now. i was expending so much energy worrying! about a social fuckup, about losing my friends, despair about the world's state, money... i recognized and let go of people who didn't respect me. and now i don't have to worry about that. i have better things to do. i can say "no" without deliberating on it now. i can finally trust myself. i spent a long time sorting thru my feelings and how they aligned with reality, and now i know how to take a step back and assess. and all the extra energy goes to the things i actually have to do!

i don't care as much what others think now. perhaps it was from relying too much on others to fulfill my happiness. now that i've figured out ways to create my own happiness i have so much hope. i can enjoy being by myself because i'm learning how to appreciate doing all the small things. and i'm giving myself permission to be flexible. it was too overwhelming before to think beyond the plan i was fixating on

i know why it took me so long to get here. i had plenty of reasons to be fucked up, things that happened to me that i had no control over plus my brain chemistry and my inability to handle school. i had control issues that i worked hard not to put on other people and they got internalized as rigidity and self blame

at the point i was at, it even scared me to be wrong. but being wrong is okay. because you can't grow if you don't learn lessons thru your life. being wrong means you've learned something. does the shame of being wrong really supersede not having to deal with the problem in the future?

i also realized i need to work around my ADHD. give myself permission to do things differently so i could get started instead of being overwhelmed by the whole task

i just couldn't keep going the way i had been. it was untenable.

now i can find the root problems. for example:

i need to apply to jobs but i've been putting it off. why?

if i look in my email i'll see all the other things i have to deal with. anxiety-inducing

i'm not sure i have the energy to sort the emails AND look at jobs

solutions:

i have to look at some point. it probably won't be as bad as i'm worrying it will

if the whole task is too much energy i can break it up. better to get something done in two days than never. once i start i may want to finish too!

so, to address both of those things, today i'm gonna to make a folder and filter for the job emails so they are all in one place. tomorrow i'll be able to open the folder without looking at any other emails and just get started :)

now that i have a way to handle my basic tasks and the knowledge that i even CAN feel good and have the energy i need (something i think i had given up on long ago), i can see a future. i can see my way there. i don't have to be blinded and completely sapped by a single big task. i don't have to give other people a majority of my energy. i just needed to focus on me and take care of my body to give me the energy to Live. it's truly baffling to me. i wonder how much the medication is helping me... either way, i am an animal! i am connected to the earth!

now i know how to give my children the tools to get around this. and the level of responsibility i want to give them to feel in control of their own lives and actions. the flexibility to work around problems instead of trying to drill thru them. and i have the energy to want them. i can work my way there. i'm excited for it someday

but for now, i just have to keep doing the little things. keep rerouting my thinking and going outside

[kaylor]

Idk if Taylor has always always been this literal in terms of the concept and the name of the album (maybe with speak now) idk i guess each album gets a bit of that but to me her entire explanation of this one being “this album is about those thoughts you have at midnight so my album is gonna be named midnights and in every single song i will used the word midnight, even tho sonically the album doesn’t make any fucking sense and it doesn’t look or even hear as an bum, because this album is set at midnight. It will come out at midnight because that’s the concept of the alb-“ and the fact that she claimed it’s a concept album, I’m crying laughing.

yeah i mean she's always been pretty literal with album titles tbh, like reputation was very on the nose but was just cool enough to work. lover/daylight again very basic on the nose, even though you have to respect the implications of referring to both yourself and your partner as Lovers on an album full of wedding imagery. it's still a bad album title but the implications.... 😈

folklore, 1989 and red, in that order, i think are her best album titles. folklore is exceptional because she is literally turning her life experiences into stories, warping them and disconnecting them from herself, but making them part of her own mythology anyway. no one will ever know the truth behind any of these stories, and no one ever should. they're folklore now, they're up to interpretation, and every swiftie will have a different version of taylor swift folklore in their minds. genius.

1989 is super cool because it's so mysterious, it gives nothing away beyond hey this music is inspired by 80s pop but it's also about myself but it's also not about myself anymore. it's like. this album is about rebirth, not as a person, but as an artist. the metanarrative about moving to new york to become herself + immediately solidifying her position as a pop behemoth, chefs fucking kiss.

red is great because, well, does it even need saying. the joni mitchell inspiration. the lipstick. the synesthetic emotional state of a fresh breakup. the literal colors in autumn. it shouldn't work, it should be super overdone, but it fucking works!!

on the flip side there's evermore, which to me is such a nothingtitle. it's very much a "we have all these b sides we have to call it something" vibe. no hate to evermore, there's some amazing tracks, but it's not an album it's a collection of songs. speak now is... fine i guess? very funny to title your album with a command to speak now when the album is full of songs you wrote because you did not speak then. again no hate to speak now because it's got many of my favorite songs on it, but it is only loosely cohesive as a unit because it's just a coming of age album. i would have to sit down and have a proper think about what i would have titled it.

and while we're here we may as well talk about fearless and self titled too. fearless is a good album title, it's very 2008, it's exactly what an 18 year old should be feeling, it perfectly captures the album. nothing groundbreaking, just decent and appropriate. i personally find it extremely boring for artists to name an album after themselves. i think it's uninspired, i think it's lazy, i think it should be illegal for artists to do this. i don't care how much you reinvented yourself or whatever, it's BORING. do better.

and then there's fucking Midnights. maybe the laziest concept ever conceived. it's literally just "i wrote a bunch of songs about my feelings" okay what's new? "i'm almost topless in the photoshoot" incredible no notes. but is the album interesting? hardly.

[archivalofsins]

I'm rarely in the tag- So, Star or others basically tell me how it's going in there and like-

All of ya'll sound like you're struggling. What Star told me sounds so stupid. Like this is the weirdest back and forth about nothing I've ever heard. It's impressive how committed everyone seems to be to making the same mistakes. It'd be really nice if more understood Amane's trial happens so late in the game that there's literally no way to change the outcome that's been locked in. Something even made fun of in her voice drama. So, voting based on how one wishes the story will go isn't going to change how it's going.

This is Milgram, after all.

Beyond that, just because someone gives another person their input doesn't mean that person has to take it as we've seen several ways before this with numerous other prisoners. It's ultimately sad because this behavior only sends one message that the abuse and neglect of children is excusable, but how the victims react to that isn't. I don't go into the tag because I've personally seen people literally devolve into doing abuser apologia (going maybe her mom was having a hard time too because of religion and the father being away have you thought of that) and I'm not putting myself through that.

I don't know if people think it's comedic or more humane to make light of the suffering someone was put through by pondering the emotional state of their victimizer or the troubles they could have been going through. But- like I'm too old and too used to hearing this shit to care about this talking point. This may come off as me being stubborn to some, and I can see how others would conclude that. However, sadly, my experiences have taught me that regardless of how bad things get attacking others weaker than you to let out ones frustration is not okay. Just because the person who shot someone is crying doesn't negate the fact they shot someone.

At the same time, it's my personal opinion that if someone does some shit they should be prepared to have that happen to them. One-sidedly hurting others with no consequence to oneself is not okay and never justified in my opinion regardless of if the person doing it is someone's parent/guardian. I don't know; that may be a pretty simple way of thinking, but I feel it's better than going, "Oh, did you ever think her mom was having a hard time, too?"

Because yes, I've thought that of course I've thought that. I grew up in an abusive household, and that is the first thing abusive moms say when they are abusing their children. So, I am incredibly aware of how this fucking works and the statements I've seen on this particularly issue can be retraumatizing to people whom have had these lived experiences.

At times, the things I have been unlucky enough to see and the way they've been discussed have been that to me. So, i can only imagine how people who are younger than me who have gone through these sorts of things or are still going through them feel. This is why even if the discussion around this does not change, it is important to tag this stuff correctly from the start and especially when asked to.

People shouldn't have to reveal personal details about themselves, for this topic to be discussed in a safe and respectful manner. People shouldn't have to be reminded that childhood abuse victims aren't this mythical storytelling device to actually talk about these things with some level of consideration. It's not what people enjoy hearing but individuals who have had the fortune of having parents/guardians or people throughout their lives that don't behave in this manner don't really have the right to tell people who have how they should feel about abuse/abusers.

Simply because it is such a difficult thing for people who have not had it happen to them to wrap their head around. So, they do end up trying to find common ground or an emotional reason that the abuser would act that way towards the person who was abused. However, I can promise anyone reading this that any excuse one can think of has already been used by an abuser and said to the person abused. So, saying stuff like this can easily reinforce that the abuse was justified and the victim deserved it even if that is not the intent of looking into it from that point of view.

This is why most media that discuss abuse try their very best to illustrate how senseless and wrong it is. Something Milgram does. Amane's mom does all this because Amane helped a cat; that's it. Discussing the environmental factors that lead to her mother doing this is giving more benefit of the doubt to her than is being applied to the actual person we're meant to be judging, which is wild. It's difficult for me not to take it as anything other than abuser apologia because no one had to take it there. Literally no one and it shows a flawed understanding of abuse and how it occurs on a societal level.

I am begging read a book, look up information on this topic, and tag posts involving discussing this trial properly. That's all.