#doesn't matter if the problem's getting worse

[tumblingxelian]

How does RWBY's worldbuilding hold up for you?

Ooh fun question, and one I can answer in a short amount of time!

Long story short, yeah it holds up quite well, I don't need to make any significant leaps in logic or desperately headcanon things to compensate the way I might with some other settings.

For instance most super hero settings don't hold up to scrutiny, or present themselves consistently/coherently once they starts whipping out the more ridiculous sci-fi tech and or magic.

This isn't to say its perfect, nothing is, or that there aren't more details I'd like to see explored or various minor nitpicks I could probably pull out if I felt so inclined.

But as it is, I don't, but its not because I just love the series.

See, as much as I love world building, I do think it gets too easily used as a cudgel by bad faith critics.

Let's be real here, even some of the worlds best authors do not have Tolkein's patience to create a whole new language, & I imagine even his stuff raised questions or inconsistencies.

The absence of local languages/accents, them not explaining the praying statues in the V4 trailer don't bug me. Cos their absence is not harming the story.

Meanwhile if there's an inconsistency or question, that too is fine as they are watched enough to avoid any real issues & so I can focus on having a good time.

Hell, let's bring up ATLA, the golden calf for critics who never watched anything else in their lives without asking "Where's the Zuko though?"

Off the cuff & late at night I can name many ATLA world building issues.

The writers one hundred percent do not grasp the philosophical ideas they are trying to espouse, showing a grasp of "Letting go" almost as wrongheaded anti Jedi people.

The origins and nature of bending is inconsistent even just within the first series, being and or coming from education, gifts, blood, spirits, some combination there-of or what have you.

If we jump to Korra the Spirits themselves are weird, initially presented as physical manifestations of a given land, they instead become essentially alien invaders & stuff like the Lion Turtles, Koi, Badger moles & more are just left as ???? Plus again spiritual misunderstanding.

Or heck, one of my biggest gripes ties into the plot as well but would be the introduction of "Bad firebending" and its counterpart "Good Firebending" introduced very late in the game at season 3.

The problem with saying it was meant to be a surprise is we've seen every Bender tap into anger when bending. Toph cracks the ground, Katara broke an iceberg, Aang goes into the Avatar State, ETC.

Anger & fire was only tied to two characters, Zuko during his season 1 lashing out period & Zhao where it was specifically cited as being unique to him and something to exploit.

Worse still, we've seen people happily Firebend, Aang;s issues with Firebending comes from having too much fun, getting careless with it & accidentally burn Katara. & we have seen sad or direction-less Zuko Firebend like a champ before now.

The 'revelation' of "Good Firebending" is the wrong solution to Aang's issue cos it does nothing about fires tendency to burn, & a solution looking for a problem that had to be tailor made for it to fix & did not exist before, Zuko.

The thing is though, while I will happily harp on the last one as part of a greater collection of issues in season 3. The truth is people are not bothered by these things if they watch a show in good faith.

One doesn't even need to like a show to do this, its just part of the deal when watching fictional media that some stuff is not always going to add up perfectly.

What matters is if the writers made it interesting, feel like it fit coherently within the world and kept it consistent enough that it didn't break the story.

Which CRWBY very much do.

They created a wide, vibrant, varied and interesting world, where a multitude of stories could and do take place that can be expanded upon if one wants.

They created and kept consistent its internal logic as best as it can be conveyed to we the audience when the characters also don't know everything.

Above all they used it to tell a interesting and engaging story, where skill & strategy matter so much in combat Where its so easy to believe bandits and criminals can thrive in the wild. Where the introduction of something like the Ever After can actually fit and feel like a revelation rather than break the story!

So yeah, I really enjoy RWBY's world building :)

[junebugtwin]

even while it was happening, you knew it wasn't going to last

[celecaster]

I wish I had a job cleaning up dead bodies because it feels like the only job I might fidn tolerable long-term. No need to do much thinking, minimal socialising and I'm not spooked by dead bodies so it wouldn't weight down on me.

[red-the-dragon-writes]

Fishing Habits

Summary:

“I know what you’re doing,” Dan said without preamble. “Huh?” Jay said. “Oh, right. I know you work for the school, but I didn’t think you’d be that much of a hardass.” “What?” Dan said. Jay paused, looking Dan over for a moment. “Actually, what are you talking about? I don’t think we’re on the same page.” “With the fish,” Dan clarified. Jay raised the odd ridges of flesh over his eyes that functioned as eyebrows. “I’m mer, you asshole. I can talk to them. They told me what fucked-up shit you’ve been pulling. What’s your problem?” “Sometimes I get hungry,” Jay said. “Can I see your notes now?”

Dan is an ordinary merman-pretending-to-be-a-human. Jay is... something else entirely. He seems like a really pleasant guy, except for how freaked out all the fish are. And Dan's college has just opened a new aquarium...

On Ao3 here.

There was an understanding, which had been in place as long as Dan could remember, that meant that one must not reveal the existence of The Supernatural to human society, and if one did the people they made the reveal to needed to be dealt with in some way—sworn to secrecy, brought into the fold of the Oceanic, or even, at absolutely worst, killed. Dan didn’t want to deal with it. There was a lot of paperwork involved in fucking up the order of things, and it was a huge hassle, and also there was a lot of risk involved. It wasn’t like Dan had any real need to reveal he’d grown up under the Pacific rather than in it, anyway. And his parents were living off the coast of Oregon now anyway, so he didn’t even have to do that much lying about it. It was easy and he kept it well under wraps.

He did five years of field work before they told him they were going to require him to come back to the university and teach at a handful of classes before he’d be allowed back out into the field or he’d lose his position, which also meant losing most of his source of funding and the grant he was working with. They offered to let him teach it remotely, of course—the department chair apologizing profusely the entire time—but Dan was doing altogether too much of the work from six hundred feet below the surface of the Atlantic and that just wouldn’t work out. No way to maintain The Secret. Instead he resigned himself to another few years living on land and away from the fishes, rented an apartment, and returned to Spokane to teach two sessions of classes about saltwater ecology in the Pacific to incoming students and one class on field work to older biology majors. Oh well. At least he could visit home on the weekends.

Since his own research was put on pause and the college did promise to pay for his tuition, Dan opted to take a handful of classes, too. What else was he going to do? He was still in touch with the rest of the field crew, and when they finally started writing, sure, he’d refocus onto that, but at the moment he wasn’t going to be of any help. And in one of the classes was a gray man.

You weren’t allowed to do that, but he was doing it. Dan was perfectly certain that there were laws against being out in the open with visibly-discolored flesh across all the major out-of-sight jurisdictions, and he was also pretty sure the Sideways Court was still offering free glamours for anyone who desperately needed into human society and also could prove beyond a reasonable doubt that they couldn’t just change their colors themselves, though Dan had also heard that the paperwork to prove either was a nightmare and the Sideways Court sounded just kind of awful to boot.  The Oceanic North-Pacific Authority was a lot better in a lot of ways. God knew applying for his visa was a nightmare of bureaucracy. But the point was: the gray man was openly flouting the rules. And worse than just being gray alone, he also had horns. His fingernails were blue, his teeth were sharp and needle-shaped, and his eyes had no pupils, just scleras and black centers that looked like hollow glass marbles. He had ripples crisscrossing his skin like vines growing just beneath the surface, and though Dan couldn’t be sure, he thought his body was a weird consistency, too, that he bent further than Dan expected when he bumped into things or wore a heavy bag over his shoulders. There was no way his appearance was legal. Dan felt for him, because it had to be difficult doing all that, but it wasn’t allowed. He’d probably get in trouble for just being around it, if someone came and found out and reported the guy and Dan hadn’t said anything.

Still. Dan had to respect it. And it was interesting to see how fast the other students got used to Jay and his gray skin and his horns and his eerie pupil-less eyes. Honestly, Dan was kind of disappointed in himself. His initial anxiety was unfair, wasn’t it? It was the laws that were unfair. Human society clearly wasn’t the problem it was cracked up to be.

Eventually Dan worked up the courage to tell Jay that he was mer. He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting. Jay had just nodded, shrugged, and said, “Cool.” That was it. And, honestly, as far as Dan was concerned, that was plenty. He didn’t need to be friends with a twenty-something nonconformist—or however old Jay was; he hadn’t asked, really—and just because they were both in the same class didn’t mean anything, really. They knew each other’s names, and Jay occasionally asked Dan for notes. That was plenty.

-

Dan wasn’t much of a partier and he wasn’t much of a night owl, and he didn’t’ spend a lot of time out of the house. What he did was usually at a river somewhere. Spokane was gorgeous and full of lively fish, and by virtue of his heritage Dan could chat. Fish didn’t usually have a lot to talk about, but something had them in a tizzy when Dan finally made it out to his favorite spot, and they were particularly anxious to tip him off.

At first, he couldn’t make heads or tails of why it mattered to him that someone had developed new lures (aside from how his job was kind of to keep an eye on what people were doing with his rivers and all). But it came together eventually. Jay had something weird about him. He’d started coming to the water just like Dan had—here and elsewhere—and chatting, just like Dan had. And Dan had lured them into a sense of security. They should’ve been secure, talking! Even when Dan was hungry he didn’t eat the fish he talked to! But to talk to Jay was dangerous. Fish that talked to Jay too long vanished. And he had strange lures, luminescent sweet blue worms that made fish dizzy and sick if they bit them off and which moved even when torn apart until they were eaten. The fish insisted, almost en masse, that this strange gray man who chatted up their waters was bad news, and on the whole they badly wanted Dan to find him and make him cut it out.

Dan didn’t even know what to make of it at first. He asked question after question, trying to understand what they meant first and then after to try to ensure they weren’t actually talking about his classmate. The fish were convinced he was unfathomably ancient, even though he was taking first-year classes. But it became too clear that they were the same person after not long at all. A handful even had his name to relay, and even though they pronounced it a little differently, there was no question that he was the same person with the same name. Brazen.

The fish generally knew what predation was and it—well, it bothered them, sure, but it was an understood way of life, and they knew Dan himself ate fish and was part of human society where fishing was done. They’d never come to ask him to put an end to regular fishing before. The first and last time any of them had banded together like this, it was six fish, and they wanted him to handle a chemical mess that he’d been almost completely useless about. The fact that he had nearly forty fish across a whole host of species asking him to put a stop to Jay’s hunting meant that something about that guy was very, very off.

At least, when it came to the fish.

Still, Dan didn’t want to jump to conclusions. Maybe he was just a weirdo. But he had access to most of the college labs, and there were fishtanks in several buildings, and so—nervously and feeling like he certainly looked a bit out of his mind—he went around, talking to the fish there. He didn’t like what he found. All the fish knew Jay. There was no doubt he could and did talk to them, often at odd hours when the fish said that they were typically bored, which meant he was on campus late at night and early in the morning sneaking in to talk with them. Several tanks were apparently head-over-heels charmed. Others, these fewer and further between and, Dan noted after a short while poking around, more likely to have deaths in the fish population waved off than more carefully-managed tanks, told Dan nervously that Jay wasn’t what he seemed. That he had been charming and pleasant and had these magnificent worm lures that they’d never seen before, and then without warning he’d coaxed one of them into his hands and ate them, just like that.

These were domestic fishes, indoor fish. Pets, practically. It was alien to them that a person would do that, and it scared them. But it didn’t seem Jay would willingly strike too many times in the same place, rotating tanks out at random. And what for? Sometimes, they said, he’d come back, and chat like nothing had happened even though they all saw him kill one of their number without a thought. There was something wrong with him. Dan, if Dan knew him, should be cautious.

These fish didn’t seem to understand that there was a world of difference between eating a human (or a mer, really) and eating a goldfish, but Dan promised to take the warning under advisement anyway.  

-

Upon the day that Dan decided to confront Jay about his weird, creepy fish-eating behavior, several interesting things happened.

The first was simple. A colleague from the Environmental Sciences branch had invited him to downtown Spokane for no clear reason just before when Dan typically took his lunch. Alicia had been a close friend when Dan was doing his dissertation and she was currently working on her own postdoc research a little ways outside Spokane, just far enough from where Dan lived that they only got together so often. She told him that it was a surprise, and ot to look anything up about the location, so he obligingly didn’t.

It turned out to be an aquarium. More than that, it was an aquarium owned and run jointly by the college and a handful of others, and while it was still in the final stages before opening, Dan—by virtue of his employment with the school and his own degree focus in fish care and fish wellness—was welcome back whenever, provided he told them what he was doing and didn’t meddle unexpectedly. They wanted him to give his thoughts on a couple of tanks. And the tanks were fascinating. For some reason, whoever had done the design of the building had had a vision and they’d executed it; the tanks looked like classrooms-turned-reefs, replicas of desks and tables cast in plaster and then given coral to grow over them, furnished with lighting that looked like fluorescent strip lights in classrooms and even sometimes sporting false windows out to the street. And all the while, inside, sharks and huge groupers and small brightly-colored reef fish and schooling fish and others besides serenely went about their business. It was inspired, it really was. His parents would’ve gotten such a kick out of it.

Alicia had shown him around, and then they’d gotten food.  It was a very nice afternoon, all things told.

The second was less pleasant. Just as he and Alicia were going their separate ways, Dan got an email from the school about a missing student, a request for more information if anyone had any. They had last been seen about a week before, and their car had just turned up abandoned at Lake Wenatchee, a state park a little ways outside Spokane. Dan hadn’t seen that happen before. Unfortunate, but not anyone he knew. He filed it away mentally and had pretty much stopped thinking about it by the time he got back to his apartment.

The third, and most objectively inconsequential, was that his first afternoon class had been canceled. His professor had come down with the flu.  

And, finally, though they didn’t have class together today, Jay had called Dan and asked to meet with him. Evidently Jay had missed a lecture, or maybe several, and wanted to see Dan’s notes. The timing was just right.

“I know what you’re doing,” Dan said without preamble.

“Huh?” Jay said.  “Oh, right. I know you work for the school, but I didn’t think you’d be that much of a hardass.”

“What?” Dan said.

Jay paused, looking Dan over for a moment. “Actually, what are you talking about? I don’t think we’re on the same page.”

“With the fish,” Dan clarified. Jay raised the odd ridges of flesh over his eyes that functioned as eyebrows. “I’m mer, you asshole. I can talk to them. They told me what fucked-up shit you’ve been pulling. What’s your problem?”

“Sometimes I get hungry,” Jay said. “Can I see your notes now?”

“Sometimes you get hungry?” Dan echoed. It took him a moment to remember how to form sentences properly. “Go to the—fucking—there are vending machines all over campus, there’s a cafeteria, you’re an underclassmen, don’t you have a meal plan—you get hungry? Hungry?”

Jay looked at Dan as though he were completely unimpressed and completely unmoved. “Okay. Can I see your notes now?”

Dan took a deep breath. “Jay, I’m here on behalf of the fish to ask you to cut the shit.”

“Huh,” Jay said. “Are you, like, going to let me see your notes, or was this just, you know, pretext to yell at me?”

Dan sighed, pulling his knapsack around to see if he could find his notebook. “No. As much as I think the way that you’ve started going after these fish is creepy as all fuck, I don’t really want your grades to suffer. Stop eating the fish.”

Jay shrugged. “I guess I can go out of campus and—”

“No,” Dan said, cutting him off. “Not the campus fish, all the local fish. I first heard about this from the fish in the Spokane. Everyone at Riverside Park is sick of your shit. It’s creepy, Jay. What’s the point of getting all buddy-buddy with fish you’re planning on eating?”

Jay’s eyes narrowed. “What, should I kill without a thought, then? What if I catch a fish with obligations?”

“That’s not why you’re doing it.”

“You’re right,” Jay said. “It’s not. But it is a consideration, among many. I don’t think it’s as bad as you think. And, no, I won’t be stopping any time soon.”

Dan shook his head and threw the notebook at the table. “Give it back to me when we have class again. And after that, I don’t want to hear from you.”

“What’s the big problem?” Jay said, suddenly sounding much more concerned. “Acanthis, they’re just fish.”

“They’re not just fish to me,” Dan snapped. “I’m mer, you asshole. It’s not the same. And—the way you do it is creepy. I don’t like it. Just because I know fish aren’t people to you doesn’t mean they don’t matter to me.”

“Oh,” Jay said. “The issue is that I eat fish?”

“I eat fish!” Dan said. “Are you being—are you being willfully stupid now? The problem is that you’re making friends with the fish you eat!”

“Ah,” Jay said. “Yeah, no, sorry, there’s nothing you can do about that. It’s been good knowing you, Acanthis. Thanks for the notes.”

“Fuck yourself,” Dan said, rather charitably, as far as he was concerned, and stormed back out of the library.

-

Jay did not stop preying on the fish. He did stop asking Dan for notes. He did also return Dan’s notebook, in about the same condition as he’d taken it, but there was an odd blue stain on one page.

 And life continued as it normally did. The class continued. Dan got familiar with the professor, a lovely older woman called Dr. Bernadotte Maragou, who was very sweet and worked in the Health Sciences department but was still nonetheless teaching an ecology course because the school was lacking a professor to teach it and she had the necessary bioinformatics background. Unfortunately, Jay did, too. He was—to everyone else, at least—charming, or at least something like it. To hear Bernie speak, he was sweet and helpful and wouldn’t hurt a fly.  But if she could hear the fish, she’d think he was the devil. All everyone else’s adoration served to do was make Dan like him even less.

Still, the end of the semester approached apace, and Dan kept his focus on himself and his friends as much as he was able. Most of the fish that Dan was familiar with knew better than to trust Jay by now, and he heard that Jay was venturing further and causing trouble in different places instead, but he left it alone. Realistically, what was he going to do? It was the only reasonable thing. He stopped by the aquarium on occasion, which was a delight in and of itself, and he got his work done, and he kept in touch with his colleagues in the Atlantic and they kept him posted on what they were seeing with the shark populations they were monitoring. There were some instances of bad news—the missing student never showed up, and another one or two, Dan wasn’t sure, joined them in vanishing off the face of the earth, but it was a city and these things happened and it didn’t happen to anyone Dan knew. At the end of the day, all was as well as it could really be.

Until it wasn’t.  

One week before the end of classes, Bernadotte announced to the class as a whole that the university was going to launch the aquarium publicly, explaining briefly what it was and much more rapidly turning to something worse: that, as a pre-opening event, the Environmental Sciences college was hosting an event and anyone enrolled in an CoES class was welcome, for free and everything. Dan watched Jay perk up, visibly interested. Absolutely not.

It was one thing to be eating goldfish from the tank and wild fish out of the river. It was something else entirely to start eating out of an aquarium. Dan couldn’t help but feel protective over a project he’d helped with, too, even if it hadn’t been that much help. He knew a lot of those fish. He was absolutely not letting this rule-flaunting, skeevy asshole fuck it all up.

He accosted Jay outside class. “You are not going to that aquarium.”

“The one with the art installations?” Jay said. “Yes I am. Do you want something, Acanthis?”

“Would you quit calling me by my last name? Stay out of those fucking fish tanks.”

“No,” Jay said. “I have another class to be at, Acanthis, would you get out of my face?”

“The second anything goes wrong at that aquarium, I’m pointing the finger at you,” Dan said. “Don’t even fucking think about it. I’ll know if even a single fish is fucking hurt. If you even speak to them.”

“Acanthis. I have places to be,” Jay said. “Move, or I’m pushing you.”

“This is the only warning I’m fucking giving you,” Dan growled. “Take it. Stay out of the fucking aquarium.”

Jay scoffed and shouldered past Dan. Dan made no effort not to be pushed out of the way, but called after Jay, “I mean it!”

Jay shook his head, like he was rolling his eyes where Dan couldn’t see them, and kept walking.  So the aquarium was screwed, basically.

-

Dan knew he was being a little unreasonable. He wasn’t going to let that stop him, though.

Asking around turned up that Jay likely didn’t have a car, so Dan figured that he was going to try to catch a ride with someone else to the aquarium. It was hardly walking distance, from campus to the center of downtown Spokane. Trying to stop Jay from getting a carpool was going to be hard, but not impossible, of course. He’d figure something out. If he could even figure out who was bringing Jay…

…which turned out to be easier than Dan had expected. Two days after the announcement in class, Bernie had announced that she’d gotten some students who were struggling to make it to the aquarium location, and she would be organizing carpools. That just meant that Dan needed to see who got Jay’s name and somehow convince them not to bring Jay. These were students. He could probably bribe them, or ply them with cookies and alcohol, or something. Wouldn’t be too hard.

It wasn’t to be. Bernie ended up with three kids on overflow, and Jay was one of them. Bernie was a really lovely lady, and sweet as they came. And there was absolutely no way Dan was going to be able to tell her what the issue was without having to answer difficult questions about himself, and besides, she’d probably insist that he was being too hard on Jay and there was a good reason to eat goldfish after telling them you thought they were the best individual fish on the planet or something. So just telling Jay’s transportation to leave him behind unexpectedly was out of the plan.

Eventually, in a fit of desperation, Dan asked Bernie if he could catch a ride with her along with the other three students. She said that he could, and that it’d be a little cramped but there would still be room for everyone.

The night before the event, Dan started asking around again, trying to find Jay to warn him off a second time. This time he didn’t succeed. Everyone knew who he was, of course, but no one could quite find him. One girl even asked Dan if he thought Jay was ”next”—baffling Dan, and when he asked what she meant, she started carrying on about mysterious disappearances and serial killers like she thought they were living in a movie of some sort. No one else Dan spoke to was any more helpful. Jay had to be off-campus somewhere, or maybe he’d vanished into thin air. Dan wasn’t optimistic enough to trust in the latter, but he crossed his fingers anyway. That would be one disappearance Dan wouldn’t mind, that was for sure.

The inexorable march of time went on, as it always did. Tomorrow rolled around. Dan woke up on the morning of the aquarium event and knew that this was it. He was out of time. He just had to find some way to make it happen.

This time, he succeeded in waylaying Jay. It was by chance, even—he caught sight of Jay’s stupid gray horns just barely peeking out over the sea of faces at the front doors to the library and zeroed in on Jay as fast as he could. He grabbed Jay by the arm and couldn’t suppress a second of distaste at the texture of Jay’s flesh—strangely squishy and stiff all at once, like a very full water balloon instead of flesh with bones in it—and then Jay whirled around. “Acanthis?”

Dan opted not to call him on the name thing this time. “This is the last time I’m going to say it. Stay away from the aquarium.”

“Didn’t you say last time was going to be the only warning?” Jay said.

“I am so serious,” Dan said. “You do not want to test me on this. Stay away from the aquarium! Do I make myself clear?”

“Uh-huh. Enjoy the rest of your day, Acanthis.” Jay started to pull away from Dan, and Dan grabbed his arm tighter. His odd glassy eyes narrowed. “You’re going to want to let go of me right now.”

“Tell me you’ll stay away from the aquarium.”

Jay wrenched his arm away from Dan’s grip, much harder than Dan expected. His knuckles ached at the sudden force; he could swear he heard one of his joints crack. “I told you to let go of me, didn’t I? I don’t know how to say this politely, Acanthis—stop telling me to stay away from the aquarium. I’m allowed to be curious about it just like everyone else is. Just because you have a problem with me doesn’t make it my concern. I’m tolerating this, because you work here and I’m probably leaving after another semester. But if you push me, I’m going to start pushing back. Do I make myself clear?”

“I don’t have a problem with you, I have a problem with you eating—” Dan realized abruptly that they were in public and lowered his voice. “Eating the fucking fish! I think that should be fucking understandable.”

“No, you also have a problem with me,” Jay said flatly. “You are not the only one, and I do not care very much. But you will never be able to dictate what I do and don’t do. You had better get that through your head right the fuck now.”

Dan, disbelieving, shook his head. “I can’t fucking believe you.”

“Great,” Jay said, shoving past Dan. He hit Dan in the chest with his shoulder, clearly intentionally. “See you at the aquarium, Acanthis.”

“No you fucking won’t!” Dan called after him, but he vanished seamlessly into the crowd before he was even done speaking.

Fucker.

-

Finally, out of ideas, Dan called up a local friend who did some contract work with the Sideways Court and asked them to temporarily hex Bernie’s car. He felt bad about it, but it wouldn’t be any real harm done, and it’d just keep the car from starting for a while. It would stop the other two students from getting to the aquarium either, but Dan was willing to call that an acceptable loss. He turned up at the parking lot next to the cafeteria at the appointed meeting-time even though he knew it wasn’t going to get him anywhere; it seemed only fair to miss it, and besides, that let him keep an eye on Jay.

Jay gave Dan a very dubious look when he arrived. “You’d better not be waiting here for me, Acanthis.”

“Nope,” Dan said. “Carpooling.”

Jay gave him a long, hard look, and then shrugged and pulled out his phone. “I assume you’ll be dogging my steps all night?”

“You’d best believe it.”

“I don’t mean to insult you, Acanthis,” Jay said, “but this strikes me as a phenomenally stupid plan.”

“I keep telling you, my name is Dan,” Dam said. “And my plan is fine.”

“I’m sure it is,” Jay said, not looking up from his phone. “Look, for all anyone knows, you’re the concern here. Everyone at the library saw you getting handsy and aggressive with me. You have fuck-all in the way of evidence. And I’m—”

A car pulled up along the cement, and Jay cut off, picking his head up. “Ah, there’s Doctor Maragou,” he said, in exactly the same casual tone.

That was weird, and eerie. “Hey, Bernie,” Dan called, trying to keep any sort of distrust out of his tone of voice. “How’s your day been?”

“Oh, hi, Dan,” Bernie said. “Hi Jay! It’s great to see you both. Have you seen Sophia and Luke?”

“Not yet, but there’s still plenty of time,” Jay said, smiling warmly. “Dan, I know you’re closest with Doctor Maragou. Do you want to sit up front?”

“Generous of you,” Dan said, “yeah. Bernie, should we get in now?”

“Yeah, why not?” Bernie asked. “I think I see Sophia coming over now, anyway. It shouldn’t be too long.”

True enough, Sophia was cresting the small hill between the walking path and the parking lot. As Dan watched, Luke, the fourth student, walked over as well. So that was the whole crowd.

Dan didn’t need to jostle around, not in the front seat, but in the back Sophia, Luke, and Jay had to work out seating arrangements; Jay had volunteered to sit in the middle, but there was a little bit of difficulty with the seatbelts, and it took a few minutes of shuffling about before Luke finally announced to Bernie that they  could start driving. Bernie nodded, smiling, and made to pull out of the parking lot. And then her car made a terrible backfiring noise.

“What the hell was that?” Luke blurted. “I mean, um, sorry Professor.”

“What the hell was that?” Bernie muttered, stepping on the gas again. Nothing happened.

“That’s… weird,” Sophia said. “Professor M., has that ever happened before?”

“Nope,” Bernie said. “I’ve never had any car do that before.”

“I can take a look at it,” Sophia said, already opening the door. “I’m good with cars.”

“Hang on a minute,” Bernie said, turning her key in the ignition. Nothing happened. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

“Yup,” Sophia said.

“How sure?” said Bernie, pressing on the gas again.

“Very sure,” Sophia said. “I like cars. Pressing on the gas isn’t going to do anything good if it‘s not igniting, so maybe stop doing that.”

Bernie stopped pressing on the gas very quickly. “Okay. You can look under the hood, if you want. Let me come out and look at it with you.”

The two of them stood outside the car looking at the hood for a good ten or eleven minutes. Jay made dubious eye contact with Dan through the rearview mirror. Dan pretended not to notice.

“Um,” Luke, the other classmate, said awkwardly after about two minutes of sustained silence. “So, uh, you’re Professor Acanthis, right?”

“You can call me Dan,” Dan said.

“Yeah, but you teach the fieldwork for nonmajors class, right?”

“Yeah,” Dan said. “Why?”

“Is it particularly hard?” Luke asked. “I mean, work-intensive. I’m setting up my schedule for next semester.”

Dan paused, trying to think about that. “I just started teaching it this semester. I think it’s pretty light, but you’re better off asking one of my students.”

“He means it’s very easy,” Jay said tonelessly. “Acanthis, tell him your late work policy.”

“It’s Dan,” Dan said. “As long as it’s in before the end of the semester, I don’t take points off late work.”

“They meet once a week, there’s a lab report due but you can work on it in the class, and it’s for nonmajors,” Jay added. “Very easy class. If you want an easy A you should take it.”

“Huh,” Luke said. “Thanks… Jaaaaaames?”

“Jay,” Jay said, but now that Dan was listening he pronounced it a little oddly, sort of more like ‘Joy’ than ‘Jay’. “Luke, right?”

“Yeah,” Luke said. “Are you planning on taking it next semester? I thought you and Professor Acanthis had… um.”

“Drama?” Jay asked, and laughed under his breath. “No, it’s nothing serious, but I’m on the pre-med track. Have to take macrobio field instead. I’m only in class with Doc Maragou because it qualified as an elective.”

“What’s the deal, actually?” Luke said. “Like, if you don’t mind me asking, because I heard you guys were really, uh… but you seem chill now.”

“Like I said,” Jay said, “it’s nothing serious. Me and Acanthis have a couple disagreements over… I don’t know, I don’t want to get into it. And a friend of a friend was talking shit about me that he believed, but I think we’re over that. Mostly it’s personality clash.”

“It’s not personality clash,” Dan said. “He’s fucked over a few friends of mine and won’t stop doing it.”

Jay raised his eyebrows at Luke, who smiled rather tightly back. “It is really not that serious. He doesn’t like that I don’t do what he tells me. I get it. I don’t like to be told what to do. It’s a personality clash. We’re working it out. This time next year, I imagine you won’t even hear that me and Acanthis were arguing.”

“Huh,” Luke said. “Right.”

Dan willed himself not to argue, even though that was blatantly untrue. He didn’t need to hash the whole thing out in front of a human audience. Fortunately, about that point Bernie came back around. “We can’t figure the problem out,” she said through the driver’s-side door, “so you three might as well come out. I’m not sure what we’re going to do here.”

“Damn,” Luke said.

“It’s a bit of a walk,” Jay said, “and it’ll get us there a little late, but we could take the Six over to Riverside.”

Dan turned to look at him, uncomprehending. He could see the other three do the same.

“The bus,” Jay said. “Don’t any of you go anywhere?”

“I only take the campus shuttle,” Luke said. “Sorry.”

“Huh,” Jay said. “Anyway, if that’s the plan, we should probably get moving. If we miss the bus we’re going to be waiting for a good hour for the next one.”

“I think the event ends at eight,” Bernie said.

“And it’s, what, six now?” Jay said. “So we’ll basically miss it. I don’t particularly want to do that,” he said, making eye contact with Dan with a weird little sedate smile on his face, “so unless anyone has objections, let’s get moving.”

“How far of a walk is it?” Bernie asked.

Jay shrugged. “Maybe a few miles? It’s at the transit center. Do you know where I mean?”

“Oh!” Bernie said. “Okay, I think I can do that.”

“Fan-ta-stic,” Jay said. “Luke, Sophia, you two on board?”

“Yeah, sure,” Sophia said.

“You didn’t ask Dan,” Luke said.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Jay said. “He’s going to follow me no matter what I ask him.”

“Oo-kay,” Luke said. “Yeah, I’ll come.”

Jay smiled, waving a hand and starting to walk rather briskly. “Alright. We have half an hour. Let’s move.”

Dan had never walked between the campus and the transit center like this before. This part of Spokane—of Washington, really—was gorgeous. Jay kept them hurrying along the side of the road, but Dan and Sophia kept slowing down to look at the trees or the rock faces or the rivers and falling behind. Dan wished he could say it was intentional, but it really was just that beautiful. And because they kept stopping at the same things, he and Sophia had started talking, aimlessly commenting on the trees and the water.

Then the road they were walking along turned into a bridge, high over a wide waterfall. All of them stopped, even Jay.

“This reminds me of where I grew up,” Sophia said to Dan. “I was walking distance from Wairere as a kid.”

Jay turned as though that had caught his attention. “Wairere Falls?”

“You’ve been there?” Sophia asked, looking a bit surprised. “Yeah.”

“They were more impressive than this, I think,” Jay said. “I don’t know, the last time I was in New Zealand was nearly thirty years ago.”

“Aotearoa,” Sophia said.

“Couldn’t have been,” Luke said, at about the same time. “How old are you?”

Jay laughed. “You think someone with a face as plastic as mine looks my age? I appreciate the vote of confidence. I’m pushing forty.”

Was that his cover? That he’d just undergone a bunch of surgeries?

“Oh, wow,” Bernie said. “What did you do before you decided to go into medicine?”

Jay glanced sidelong at Dan. “Professional fishing. Do you still need a moment to ogle?”

“Not hassling us to get moving again already?” Dan asked.

“We’ve got a little time,” Jay said.

“You were on us the whole way here,” Sophia said, still staring at the falls.

“Yeah, because I knew you were all going to stare here. It’s a nice waterfall. Take your time. I’ll tell you when we really have to get a move on.”

Dan turned that one over in his head for a moment. Was Jay expecting him to have delayed more intensely? Was that what that actually was? Or was this actually a moment of… what, generosity in disguise? Jay was such a strange person.

It was a nice waterfall, though, and the water below it looked deep and clear. Dan walked to the part of the railing Jay was leaning on, trying to look subtle, and leaned over. “Between the two of us, we’re the only ones who can breathe under water.”

“I can’t, actually,” Jay said. “I don’t breathe at all.”

Dan stopped, looking at him properly. Jay shrugged. “No lungs. Don’t breathe.”

“But you can  live under water, right?” Dan did his best to clarify.

“Yeah, that I can,” Jay said. “What about it?”

“Have you ever gone over a waterfall like that? If you’re here, and you were in New Zealand around waterfalls.”

Now it was Jay’s turn to look at Dan oddly. “I have, actually. Not often, but I have. Are you about to ask me for advice?”

“I just… wonder, I guess,” Dan said. “Does this one look like it’d be good to jump off of?”

Jay was quiet for a moment, studying the water. “Well, depends what you mean by good. You’ll probably get spun really hard. Impacting the water will probably hurt, but you don’t want to dive or anything here, or you’ll risk hitting the bottom, I think, it doesn’t look that deep to me.”

“You could’ve just said no,” Dan said.

“Those are the only problems. If you don’t like being disoriented, that’s on you,” Jay said. “The water is clean and clear and there’s no rocky outcroppings to hit yourself into. It’s pretty damn good, as far as these things go.”

“Sounds kind of unpleasant.”

“It’s  one of those things,” Jay said, turning toward the other three. “If you liked it, you’d probably already know that by now, and if you don’t, you’ve never thought about it. I’m not sure what kind of thrill-seeking mer adolescents get up to, though.”

“Me either, really. I lived most of my life on land after I turned twelve.”

“Huh,” Jay said. “That’s why you’re like this.”

“Like what?” Dan started, but Jay was already walking toward the other three. “Jay!”

“We’re going to get moving again, guys,” Jay said, waving. Bernie, Luke and Sophia reluctantly fell into step behind Jay again. Dan, for his part, hurried up to stand next to him so he could ask what the fuck Jay was talking about.

“What do you mean, that’s why I’m ‘like that?’”

“Do you want them hearing? I thought your being here meant you had to be super hush-hush.”

“Honestly, I’ve been wondering this whole time. Why don’t you?”

Jay gave him a disbelieving look. “Obviously I’m supposed to.”

“Well—you’re not, and no one’s tried to arrest you yet.”

“You’d be surprised at how low-profile I can be. Plastic surgery,” he said, tapping the ridges of flesh around his eyes, “tattoos, nail polish, and sometimes I can pass the horns off as a headband. Sometimes, if I’m really worried,” he glanced back at the other three, “they’re not looking. Watch this.”

Dan turned toward him, not sure what he was about to do, and was completely unprepared for his horns to just—sink back into the top of his forehead seemingly of their own volition. “What—?”

“It’s uncomfortable, though,” Jay said, replacing them with a gesture that looked more like spitting something out than horns protruding through his face. They were now streaked with some sort of bluish, viscous fluid, like dish soap. Jay ran his hands over them, and then rubbed his hands together, and when he went back to talking neither the horns nor his hands were wet.

“Neat trick,” Dan said, totally astonished.

“Handy, yeah,” Jay said. “Look, not that I’m not appreciating the conversation not suddenly being you yelling in my face and all, but can I ask what prompted the change of heart?”

“No hearts have been changed. I don’t want you to eat my fish,” Dan said. “But I can’t see a way to stop you getting to the aquarium, so I guess I’ll just have to tag around all night like you said I was going to. Might as well make it a little fun, right?”

“I suppose that makes sense,” Jay said slowly, not looking as though he understood at all.

-

The bus was miserable, but the aquarium was fantastic, so it balanced out. Dan did tail Jay the whole time, though Jay obligingly let Dan pick over the remnants of the sushi bar before they went around to the exhibits instead of trying to lose Dan so he could go start snatching schooling fish or something. Dan asked him if he wanted anything, concerned as he was for the live fish in the exhibits; Jay demurred. Something about a food allergy, or something; Dan wasn’t sure exactly what he meant but he sure made it sound like there wasn’t anything at the table that wouldn’t somehow make him sick.

Jay was fascinated by the first-floor exhibits that looked like classrooms. Eventually they made it to the second floor, after Jay had done a long loop around the expansive ground level and spent a lot of time in the touch-tank mumbling to a nervous epaulette shark until he could coax it up toward him. Dan didn’t like it then, but it hadn’t been sinister after all, and he was trying to relax. But just after they made it to the second floor, Jay slipped off into the shadows, and Dan just barely caught up to him before Jay—with Dan’s keys—slipped behind the Employees Only door and beckoned for Dan to follow.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing,” Dan hissed, as soon as he was inside. “They’ll kick you out if you’re back here.”

“Not if I’m with you,” Jay said, which wasn’t true.

“Yes, they will. And they’ll revoke my clearance.”

“Come on. I want to talk to the nursery sharks.”

“Absofuckinglutely not,” Dan said. “I’ll tell on both of us.”

“What the fuck is the big idea?” Jay said. “Look, you can hear both sides of the conversation. And they’re nursery sharks, and I’m not even hungry. I’m curious about living in those drowned fake rooms. Do you know which tank we should be looking for?”

“We’re not doing this,” Dan said.

“Alright, I’ll find out without you,” Jay shrugged, and started walking. Dan reached out to grab Jay’s arm, and—

Well. Dan didn’t actually know what happened, only that his hand closed on solid-ish flesh, and then it was suddenly not solid under his hand at all, and Jay had sort of just pulled away around his fingers. Weird.

“You can come with me or you can stay there, but you’re not grabbing me in private,” Jay said. “I’m not interested in being yanked around, I don’t give a damn how worried you are about the fish. I’m not even going to put my face near the water.”

With deep misgivings, Dan hurried up and followed behind Jay. “It’s, um, door seven. The exhibit you want.”

“Thank you,” Jay said, sounding legitimately a little bit surprised. “Appreciate it.”

“Don’t expect a repeat,” Dan said. “And I will be warning them about you later.”

Jay hummed, pushing through the door slowly. Beyond, they could hear the pump and the water splashing.

Jay bent down by the side of the tank, reaching out with one hand. “This is going to look strange.”

“Everything you do looks strange,” Dan started, but he was right—it did look real fucking strange. The palm of his hand… uncoiled? Rippled and widened? And from the inside came slightly luminescent blue tendrils, about a half-inch wide each and visibly very soft, and slick with some sort of fluid with the consistency of honey, or maybe laundry detergent. He stuck these into the water without a worry, and then said, not too loudly, “Hey. Up here.”

Abruptly Dan remembered the lures. “You have those inside you? You feed them to the fish!”

“Sometimes they’re hungry,” Jay said.

“What are they, worms?” Dan asked. “Some sort of… fungus?”

Jay looked up from the water to squint at him. “Are you trying to fuck with me? Like, is that a joke?”

“What?”

Jay reached over with his normal hand and grabbed one tendril firmly, and then pulled. Hard, actually, hard enough that Dan thought it looked like it had to hurt, and then with a quiet squelching sound a small octagonal segment of his gray skin pulled free from the side of his hand and so did the tendril, still moving freely. “It’s me. I feel like that should be obvious, if the fish were reporting on me to you. That one bass got a good mouthful of my leg a few months ago.”

“What are those?” someone else said, and Jay and Dan both jumped and turned to see that there was a small nursery shark staring up at the both of them. Dan wasn’t terribly familiar with her, but he thought her name started with an s sound, or maybe an m. “Can I eat them?”

“Sure,” Jay said.

“They make fish sick,” Dan said quickly. “Better not.”

“They make fish sick?” Jay repeated. “They shouldn’t. Just drowsy, maybe.”

“Dizzy and sick, is what they told me.”

Jay looked down at his own hand curiously. “So, I’m Jay.” He said it oddly again. Maybe Dan was mispronouncing it. “My friend here is Dan.”

“Danistei,” Dan said, because he gave his real name to the fishes, thank you, and then registered that Jay had said his actual name.

“What’s your name?” Jay continued, as though nothing had happened.

“Svisa,” said the nursery shark.

“Nice to meet you, Svisa,” Dan started.

“We’re delighted you’ll speak to us,” Jay continued, coming very close to cutting Dan off. “I have a couple questions about the environment.”

“Oh, like he’s always asking,” Svisa said.

“Probably,” Jay said. “Do you know what your environment is a replica of?”

“It’s a replica?” Svisa said.

“It’s a replica of a human classroom,” Jay said, rapid-fire. “Thank you, Svisa. What do you think of the lighting on the side of the wall?”

“Oh, he really is always asking that one. It’s fine.”

“You come here from anywhere interesting?”

“Not really,” Svisa said.

“Captive-bred,” Dan cut in. “Svisa, are you bored?”

“A little bit,” Svisa said. “Nothing left in here to catch, and I know all the hiding places. When it’s light out, I can watch the other tank, but they’re dimming everything now.”

“They’re dimming everything,” Jay repeated. “Okay, Dan, up, let’s get out of here before we get caught.”

“Caught,” Svisa repeated.

“We’re not technically supposed to be back here right now,” Dan explained hastily, getting up. “Thank you so much for chatting, Svsia. Jay, was that what you wanted to know?”

“One last question,” Jay said. “How dark are the hiding places?”

“Dark enough,” Svisa said, delicately closing her jaws on a big chunk of Jay’s exposed tendrils. They sheared off cleanly, and started to leak thinner, less viscous blue fluid into the water; Jay rapidly curled them back up without even a hiss. “You’re leaving, I’ll see you some other time.”

“Me, maybe,” Dan muttered. “Jay, if she gets sick, I’m holding you to account for it.”

“She should be fine. It’s like weed,” Jay said. “Bye, Svisa, thanks for talking. Might see you again, might not. I’m curious about the way it feels down there. Dan, hitting the road?”

Dan sighed and followed behind Jay, and the two of them stepped out of the tank room and then into the Employees Only hall and then back into the rest of the museum. It was dim. “What time is it?”

“You have a phone, don’t you?” Jay said, but he was pulling his own out as he said it. “Eight ten.”

“They closed up fast,” Dan noted, a little surprised. “I wasn’t expecting them to kick everyone out and turn the lights off ten minutes after the event ended.”

Jay shrugged. “Maybe they’re just efficient. Let’s make sure they didn’t lock us in.”

They hadn’t, so the two of them walked out the doors and tried not to look suspicious. Or at least Dan tried; Jay looked casual as anything, sauntering out confidently.

“Stop looking over your shoulder,” Jay murmured out of the corner of his mouth, and Dan straightened up. “No, that’s worse, you look even more like you’re sneaking into the pantry to steal cookies or something. Do you just not do this sort of thing?”

“No, I don’t,” Dan said.

Jay paused. “Why were you messing with me so much, then? Starting out strong for your first few bits of mischief?”

“I,” Dan said, trying to wrap his head around that. “It was about the fish. It has always been about the fish.”

“But you had to know I wasn’t going to go after the fish in a new aquarium,” Jay said, sounding almost stupefied. “Right?”

What? “What? No.”

“If I’m going to an aquarium, there’s going to be close monitoring, people around,” Jay said. “And it’s not like they’re filling, anyway. Obviously I’d just go pick someone off in an alley beforehand, if it was that big a deal.”

“I told you, I don’t like you eating the wild fish either,” Dan said. “But I guess—”

“Fish?” Jay repeated. “No, I mean—” And then he stopped, and turned to gesture Dan toward an alley. “Come take a detour with me.”

“What do you mean, not fish?” Dan said, following easily.

Jay looked Dan up and down, still walking. The alley was longer than Dan expected. “I know you said something, at some point, about the ‘patterns,’” and here he made air-quotes with his fingers, “of the way that I ate the fish being ‘creepy.’”

“Yeah, because they are,” Dan said. “I mean, I might’ve been judging you wrong, but it still seems real fucking creepy to me. I don’t really get—”

Jay raised a hand and cut Dan off. “And I read into that, I think. I thought you meant the patterns I ate everything with were creepy.”

“I mean,” Dan started. “I don’t know.”

Jay smiled oddly, waving for Dan to walk a little faster. “And I thought to myself that that was fair, because you were right. And I didn’t know how much you’d told anyone, or how much trouble I’d be in if you had.”

“Jay. What are you getting at.”

“Fish are very unsatisfying, you know.” Jay sighed. “They don’t have much to talk about. Their secrets are inconsequential and not very interesting. And, now, I have a problem, the kind you’re not likely to have heard of. “

“Where are you leading me?”

“You’ll see,” Jay said. The alleyway had gotten so dark that it was difficult to make out anything except for the points of light reflecting off his eyes from the distant billboards on the street. “I need a secret—given freely—before I can eat my fill. Makes it had to order off the dinner menu. Told myself, hey, hospice care, that’s got to be the gig for me. But it doesn’t leave me a lot of time to hunt. So I’ve been scavenging the fishtanks. But do you know what one of the first things you told me was?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Dan stopped walking.

“This explains why threatening you didn’t seem to do anything,” Jay said. “Did you even know I was threatening you?”

“When the hell were you threatening me?”

“That’s what I mean,” Jay said. “I’m full, now, I’m not eating anything. Or anyone. But you know what I’m getting at, don’t you?”

Dan shook his head. “You eat fish, and you’re implying you’ll eat me.”

“About the gist of it, yeah,” Jay said. “Keep walking, we’re going to get to the bus stop a few blocks early. I didn’t want to take you through here if you already knew I was likely to maybe eat you. Didn’t need that kind of thing getting me in trouble, you understand. You cannot do anything about me, but if you decided to start running and screaming it would’ve made my life inconvenient.”

“Are you,” Dan said, trying to find the polite term for it. “Are you a… person with a vamparasitic affliction?”

“Am I a what?” Jay said. “Vamparasitic affliction? Can you not say vampire now?”

“I think it’s offensive,” Dan said.

“If I were a vampire I wouldn’t be offended,” Jay said. “But no. I’m an obligate carnivore under a curse, but it’s a different one. You’ve seen me walk in the sunlight.”

“Can you eat garlic?”

“I can’t eat any plants.”

Dan could start to see the lights at the end of the walkway now. “Why do you eat people, if you can just eat fish?”

Jay looked at Dan for a moment, and despite the low light Dan thought he could see Jay’s needle-sharp teeth glinting in a very sharp smile. “Why does anyone prefer to eat anything? Just tastes better.”

[subconsciousmysteries]

Oh yeah it just occured to me...

This "counterphobic 6" "I'm full of shame about being a 6" *typing everyone who acts embarrassing or annoyingly as 6* nonsense was probably invented by a lot of bitchy ass 3s. Struggling with their 3 -> 6 line and hating on their integration type as we all do.

Every 3 sees 6 as a massive loser type and a shameful thing to be. Because 6s *gasp* believe in conspiracy theories and they even *faints on chaise* talk about them in public sometimes! How embarrassing to be a human being that speaks the truth! See if you're an image type and you have the vice of Deceit this makes sense.

Also part of speaking the truth is talking about your earnest feelings and how your vulnerable humanness is being violated by the corruption in the world. Another big no-no thing for 3s.

[dixiedingo]

Bahhh

[boy-above]

j/hn wolfe make one video without complaining abt ur audience challenge

[mashupofmylife]

we are 23 minutes in to my therapy appointment. my therapist may have forgotten about me…

[eowyntheavenger]

Americans, these are things we are NOT saying in 2024:

"Voting blue won't solve anything." Yes it will: if enough of us do it, it will solve a problem called Trump's second term in the White House. We unfortunately live in a two-party system. If you refuse to vote, you're effectively voting for Trump. I shouldn't need to explain this to people, yet here we are.

"It doesn't matter who's president. Both candidates are the same anyway." No, they are REALLY not. Biden was never my first choice, and his shipments of arms to Israel are despicable, but don't try to tell me even for a second that a second Trump term would be the same for the world as a second Biden term.

"But voting blue won't fix [fundamental underlying problem in America]." Voting for Democrats cannot fix every issue, this is true. But by saying this and ONLY this you are discouraging people from voting by making them feel hopeless. Voting is one of many tools in our arsenal, not the only tool, but an important one, and it does matter.

"You shouldn't vote blue, you should do [other thing] instead." See above: you can vote and protest and organize at the same time. It's not either/or. You can do it all. Stop discouraging voters from exercising their rights under the guise of leftism.

"Voting is just legitimizing government power. It makes you part of the system." Literally just shut up. Women and people of color didn't fight for their voting rights to have you say things like this. If you live in America and you can legally vote, then you should fucking vote, and vote blue. There is no neutral option.

"Voting blue just makes you complicit in [this bad policy]." Inaction, and allowing Trump to have a second term, is worse for the entire world than any Democrat policy. Yes, even that one. Voting is not about finding a perfect unproblematic candidate. It is about choosing the lesser of two evils.

"Voting doesn't work because—" STOP IT. STOP DISCOURAGING PEOPLE FROM VOTING.

You know who wants you NOT to vote? Trump supporters, that's who. You should be suspicious of ANYONE who is suggesting that your vote doesn't matter, or that both candidates are the same, or that Biden's policy on XYZ means you shouldn't vote for him. Trump supporters aren't trying to get your vote by saying, "Vote for Trump!" They're trying to get your vote by DISCOURAGING YOU FROM VOTING AT ALL.

I don't like Biden either, but Trump is unequivocally worse. Voting doesn't fix everything, but it is the minimum fucking requirement of living in a democracy. Voting for president has real, tangible, immediate impacts on people's lives, and choosing not to vote is not the rebellion you think it is, it is just relinquishing your voice. So fucking vote. THIS IS A GROUP PROJECT AND DAMN IT WE ARE NOT FAILING BECAUSE OF YOU.

[chocolate-chip-depression]

I don't know I'm starting to feel like my doctors don't take me seriously because I don't look sick enough for them

[catboyieejeno]

.・゜゜・・゜゜・．.・゜゜・★

cw: little plot, roommates/fwb to lovers (ig?), strength kink, oral (fem receiving), slightly toxic (?), jealousy, very possessive jeno, overstimulation

18+ minors do not interact !

"stop fucking moving,"

you gasp out when jeno lands a slap on your clit, unable to help but jolt at the wave of pain and pleasure that shoots through your nerves. your eyes are dazed, but you can still make out his figure between your legs. he readjusts, using his big palms to keep your thighs far apart.

"i-i'm sorry, i'm sorry," you whimper weakly. he doesn't pay any mind to your apology, though, attaching his mouth to your dripping cunt once again.

by now, you knew jeno well enough to know exactly what pushed his buttons. it's exhilarating to test his limits, because more often than not, you'd end up with a few mind-blowing orgasms as your so-called 'punishment' at the end of the night.

so earlier, when your mutual friend jaemin came over, you thought it would be ingenious to settle down on the couch beside him and swing your legs over his lap.

that was your first mistake.

"sit there and take it," jeno growls, "and stay fucking still unless you want me to edge you all night,"

you knew your little plan would bother jeno, and it very much did. it was painfully obvious on his features, from the moment you hiked up your smooth legs and laid them over jaemin's thighs.

jeno's glare was unyielding, and he had his jaw clenched so tight, you worried his teeth might crack.

purely oblivious to your antics and jeno’s sudden sour mood, jaemin didn't think twice about resting his hands on your bare skin—it was an innocent gesture, really. the problem was, when he told a joke that made you laugh, you laughed a little too hard, taking his hand into your own and sliding it up your thigh.

it was bad enough that your cotton shorts were absolutely tiny, but it was worse that they were now tucked high between your legs. by the time you settled jaemin's hand where you wanted it to be, he was no less than a few inches from your core.

that was mistake number two.

"jeno. holy shit, please,"

"you wanna tease me, huh? wanna get me jealous? you like that shit," it doesn't matter that he's mumbling into your folds and his speech is slightly slurred, you catch onto his every word.

he laps you up again and again, alternating between laying his tongue flat on your clit and wrapping his lips around it to suck on it. his hands have slid up your waist, but his elbows keep your legs pinned open.

you're, quite literally, on fire. the wet, slurping sounds of him making out with your pussy are so loud that they're deafening. every groan and growl he grants shoots vibrations through you, and there doesn't seem to be enough oxygen in the room with the way you're rigidly panting.

if he didn't let you come soon, you're pretty sure you'd pass out.

"do you want anything to drink, jae?"

jeno scoffs. since when the fuck did you call jaemin 'jae?'

"some water would be nice, thanks," the boy flashed his smile at you and you stood up, ass practically hanging out of your shorts and right in his face. you couldn't see with your back turned, but jeno caught the way his friend's eyes darted to your pretty, plump cheeks, adam's apple bobbing as he gulped.

you returned with his glass, but just before you handed it to him, you pretended to stumble, and some of the water landed right over his crotch.

was it extremely cliche? sure, but it certainly did the trick.

when you came back with a kitchen towel chanting fake apologies and just about straddled one of his legs, jeno had pretty much had enough.

but then, as if that wasn't nearly enough, you went on to wipe away at jaemin's jeans (right over his slightly swelling bulge) wearing the most infuriatingly innocent look on your face.

"i'm so sorry!"

"it's okay, really," jaemin insisted, subconsciously spreading his knees farther apart so you could continue to dry him off.

"it's really not! jeno," you called, turning and batting your eyes, "can't you lend him one of your pairs?"

the moment your gaze landed on him, you knew you were fucked.

he narrowed his eyes on you, shooting daggers your way. after letting some air out through his nose, he seethed through his tightened teeth a small "sure."

and that? that was mistake number three.

"jeno, baby, i'm so close,"

"no," he warns, "don't you dare fucking come."

"i can't help it, i'm gonna-"

he stops at once, pulling the rug clean from under you and smirking at the way you whine out, body seizing up as your orgasm is stripped away. he watches as your hole pulses incessantly with need, grinding himself into the mattress.

you cry out, "i said i was sorry," but he only tuts, shaking his head.

"you made your bed, now lie in it."

"please," you're breathless and desperate for some sort of release. so much so, that you resort to shamelessly bargaining, "i'll give you head everyday for the next week,"

"not good enough. I can fuck your mouth whenever I want,"

"jeno! i'll- fuck, i don't know," you look around as you rack through your brain, but he doesn't let you finish your thought.

"say you're mine."

"but,” you pause, eyes widening, “i-i'm not,"

jeno sticks his middle finger knuckle deep into you, stilling it there within your tight, fluttering walls, "so then, tell me. you want jaemin's mouth on you instead of mine?"

"no," you answer quickly, honestly.

he pumps into you once, then twice, slowly coaxing the confession out of you, "then say it, baby. say you're mine, that i'm the only one who makes you feel this good,"

"i'm not yours, jeno. we-we've been over this,"

"i guess you don't wanna come then, do you?" he withdraws his digit and sits up on his knees, unbuckling his belt and undoing his pants, "i don't know why you have to be so fucking stubborn all the time,"

you watch as he pulls his length out of his boxers, mouth working to gather saliva to the front of his mouth. he spits, letting it fall onto his swollen, pink tip. it's hard to hide the way you're basically squirming in anticipation, hips practically bucking up and closer to him.

"i'm sorry," you try again, voice sweet and airy. but again, he doesn't answer. he simply lines himself up with your hole and pushes in with a hiss, training his eyes on you to watch the way your jaw goes slack.

"you're a brat," he scolds, "and a tease," his hands press down on your tummy, resting his weight there. when he bottoms out, you grip his wrists, looking down to watch the way he sits on his heels with his dick buried in you.

"i'm sorr-“

"stop fucking saying that," he thrusts into you and you moan out, "you know what i wanna hear," his gradually increasing pace makes you shudder, and your orgasm starts building within you once again, "i'm gonna fuck you so good, you'll never even think about jaemin again,"

jeno rams his hips into you and the sound of your skin slapping against his echoes around your bedroom. you try to cover up how close you're getting, hoping that maybe, just maybe, he won't notice until it's too late.

the only problem is: jeno knows you just as well as you know him, and even more so, he knows your body. he prides himself in that—in catching every little involuntary sign and habit you have.

he knows the way your toes curl when he hits the right spot, deep within your gummy walls, and he knows the way your eyes gloss over to spill hot tears when he chokes you.

your face might be able to conceal your true intentions, but your pussy, gushing and squeezing around him, can not.

“if i feel you come around me, so help me god, i’m gonna stop,”

there isn’t the slightest hint of a bluff behind his sharp tone, and it pisses you off. your cheeks are red hot with frustration, nails digging into his skin, which only makes him squeeze your waist harder. the pleasure is dizzying, his thick length dragging up and down your walls in the most delectable way.

you aren’t gonna last much longer, you know that. he knows that.

“please, jeno. please please please,”

“i’ll let you come, baby. there’s nothing i want more than for you to come on my cock, but i need you to tell me,”

sneakily, you trail your hand between your legs to stimulate your clit, but he’s quick to grasp both of your wrists before you can even savor the feeling, pinning your arms on your chest between your bouncing breasts.

you’re a mere second away from whining out in protest when his own free hand flies to rub circles on your puffy clit, and suddenly, the feeling is far too overwhelming.

forced to blink harshly a few times to regain focus, you look at his features and come to the conclusion that truthfully, jaemin, and no one else for that matter, could ever make you feel like this.

you didn’t want anyone else anyway. your little act was just a ploy to get you to this very point, stuck underneath jeno who manages to make you come so hard each and every time he’s inside you that you wind up seeing stars.

as the cord threatens to snap in your belly, every ounce of you longing for release, you moan out loudly, giving in, “i’m yours! i don’t want anyone else, i promise,”

“yeah?”

“yes,” you insist, “yes, baby. fuck, m’all yours, always yours,”

he leans down to press a kiss to your lips, and suddenly, all the anger he had been airing out fades for a moment. he doesn’t shove his tongue down your throat (although you wouldn’t have minded much), and he doesn’t move his lips in any kind of rush; instead, they move against yours softly, almost feather-like, as if your confession would float away from any suddenness.

and finally, against your lips, he mumbles, “go ahead and come, sweet girl. i’ve got you.”

instantly, your nerves ignite and your breath hitches, your orgasm washing over you at last.

he isn’t far behind, not at all. he had been sensitive ever since he’d started humping the bed with his head stuck between your legs.

he finishes with you, in you, shooting streams of hot white cum inside your clenched walls. the grip he holds on your hand releases as a grunt rumbles in his throat, and you instinctively wrap your arms around him, letting him bury his face into your neck.

when he stills his movements, he lays his weight on top of you, warm, slick skin pressing right up against you, chest to chest.

after a few moments of silence, other than the settling heavy breaths from both of you, you rake your fingers through his hair, muttering timidly by his ear.

“i mean it. i’m yours. i only did all that earlier for—well, for this.”

“all mine?”

you nod, giving him reassurance when he lifts his head to read the expression on your face, “mhm.”

“good. i’m all yours, too.”

[beatrice-otter]

You’re seriously still blaming Trump on “Bernie Bros”? Time for democrats to start taking responsibility for putting up shitty candidates and deflecting blame toward everyone else, for once

Trump was elected by a very narrow margin. And there was a ton of polling and data crunching and statistical modeling going on during and after the election, so we actually know what the factors that tipped the needle Trump's direction are.

One of the biggies is leftists who thought Hilary was insufficiently far left. If every leftist who loved Bernie and disliked Hilary because she wasn't perfect enough had held their nose and voted for Hilary, Trump would have lost. They're not the only demographic that's true of; there are a number of others who, if they had turned out in force, would have turned the tide of the election. For example, if a higher percentage of Black women had voted, Trump would also have lost. You know what the difference is between your average Bernie Bro and your average Black woman? Your average Bernie Bro is white and thus a hell of a lot less likely to have his vote suppressed. He is a hell of a lot more likely to find it easy to vote. This is not me saying this because I don't like them, or because I think Hillary was a perfect candidate. This is me saying that when you look at the actual numbers, leftist ideologues who refused to vote for a candidate who was not their perfect choice was one of the main reasons Trump got four years in the White House.

In general, regardless of the candidates involved, if 55% of American adults vote in a national election, the Republican wins in a landslide. If 60% of American adults vote, the Republican wins by a bare margin. If 65% of American adults vote, the Democrat wins by a bare margin. If 70% of American adults vote, the Democrat wins by a landslide. If 75% of American adults voted--and voted regularly in every election--the Republican party would cease to be a significant force in American politics.

This has been known for decades. Republicans will show up and vote no matter what; a very high percentage of Democrats and left-leaning voters will only show up if the candidate in question is perfectly in line with their views. That's why we have a Congress that is dominated by Republicans despite most of the country not liking them, and that's why we have most of the political problems that they do. By waiting for a political candidate who is good enough, you are directly ceding power to the people who are making the world worse.

Elections are decided by the people who show up. If you do not show up to vote, your vote does not get counted. If politicians want to get re-elected, they have to listen to the people who will vote for them. If they try to listen to the people who don't regularly vote, they are far more likely to lose re-election than if they listen to the people who show up every election. And conservatives show up every election. If liberals and leftists changed our voting habits and voted in every single election--voted for the furthest left candidate in the primary, and whoever got the Democratic nomination in the general election--we would prove ourselves to be a voting bloc worth listening to and the party would move left in response.

You want a candidate who perfectly fits your vision and ideals for what America should be? That doesn't happen in a vacuum. That takes work, and the most basic level of that work is showing up to vote now and every time there's an election to vote in.

[inkskinned]

you found out today that a phrase you have used before was coined by an abusive man. this felt like getting your teeth taken out. it made you sick and sad and tired, but not surprised.

bad people tell you to be careful when you talk badly of bad men, that it could "ruin" a life. you had your life ruined by a bad man, not that it ever matters to them. your real life having real consequences is not valued as highly as the potential of his future.

this has always been a frustrating little mathematics problem for you. you've missed school and had to call out sick at work and had panic attacks that lasted for weeks. it stole sleep and food and friends from you. you cried in public, fucked your relationships up. and the whole time: your present has never mattered so much as the great what if! of his future. like - one life (your life) is already ruined, should we really ruin two?

so you live with the consequences and he doesn't, and that's just like, something you need therapy for. you once discussed this with one of your friends over coffee. she chewed the wooden stirrer, looked off into the distance. "once i became a victim, everything that happens to me afterward is automatically less interesting in the eyes of the general public. it is always about him. he changed my identity. to survivor. to statistic. meanwhile this whole time - i am a person."

you learned in college that three out of five of your favorite artists and authors were actually abusive assholes. these days, you are no longer surprised. oh, is that what was happening behind closed doors? of course it was, he was a "genius," and she was just a girl. you are talking about him in art history, so obviously his career was absolutely ruined, for eternity. that's what happens, right? they strike your name from the record and refuse to remember you? nobody really knows her name, but hey. that's what you get for being close to celebrity.

you got into an argument about it, which was a bad argument, because it made you cry. he said what, you want us to just ignore all the things this man did because he made a few women uncomfortable? and you'd balled your fists up and choked on it. later, in bed, you agonized over the response you'd been trying to articulate but never found the right moment to deploy: you are ignoring what any person could do if they weren't being fucking abused. maybe her talents far exceeded his and she was just never allowed to fucking use them. maybe we only see genius in white men because they purposefully fucking squash and silence any other people with talent.

but you'd cried about it instead of saying that, because you are the cost. you are the talent and potential that he took. you used to be brave and smart and clever and unafraid. like a lich, he stole years of your life.

quiet on set made you sad and sick and tired, but not surprised. unfortunately, one of the things he said was true: an entire network of people allowed it to continue. this is not news to you, because you have seen entire networks of people make the same fucking excuses when the same thing or-worse happened to you. and your particular story isn't even in hollywood. it was just a guy. it was still difficult getting people to stand up for you.

you and your friend wait in line for your coffee. like a standup joke, one man turns to the other and says "can't wait for every bitch to come crawling out of the woodwork complaining about harassment. it's another metoo." and you think - oh, that's the network. your boss tucks her hair back and whispers that while your skirt is cute, you're giving the boys the wrong idea. that's the network. when you'd told your "friend" about what happened, she'd said oh you must have misunderstood, that would never happen. and that's the network.

you woke up this morning panting, because years later you still have panic attacks. oh, it's not a network, actually, it's a web. and you, little moth: are you still surprised you're caught in it?

[irisintheafterglow]

[bernie sanders voice] i am once again.. thinking about coparenting megumi with boyfriend!satoru.

"so you're both megumi's..."

"guardians," you smile politely, praying stupid shit doesn't leave the mouth of the boy next to you. it's wishful thinking.

"yes," he beams so tenderly that you resist the urge to scrunch your nose in disgust. he takes your clammy hand lightly in his and turns back to megumi's teacher. "we had him young." a soft ow comes from under satoru's breath as you kick him under the table, forcing an expression of normalcy onto your face.

you hated parent-teacher conferences because it reminded you just how abnormal megumi and tsumiki's situation was. they had no parents, nor did they have any close relatives that cared for them the way a family should. that left you and the white-haired idiot in the tiny seat next to you to fill in that duty, and between missions and training students, you weren't around as often as you wanted to be.

"i...see," the teacher says hesitantly, eyeing your boyfriend with obvious unease. after a moment, she regains her composure and refocuses on you completely. "is there anything you wish to discuss before we begin?"

"not for me, no."

"when can we get him bumped up a grade? or have him skip one altogether?" every single word that comes from satoru's mouth is a joke but it still has your face burning with embarrassment that you were associated with him. "you know, i skipped a few grades when i was young."

"i can tell," you whisper and he pinches the flesh of your thigh between two fingers in defiance.

"i believe that skipping grades would be unwise at this time, as we haven't done any testing yet-"

"he was kidding, i swear," you say apologetically and, thankfully, the teacher continues as if on a script.

"i see. well, megumi is progressing wonderfully in the class. he's very adept at reading and writing, but he does struggle with math sometimes. it's nothing to be worried about; many children struggle with math at his age." you nod in understanding but grimace inwardly. megs always wanted you to help him with math homework since satoru became frustrated with the problems faster than the actual 2nd grader.

"for being the strongest, he's not that smart," megumi stated bluntly one night while you helped him on a coffee table in the teacher's lounge. you'd sent satoru on a walk around campus after his distress was clearly bothering megumi, who ended up suffering more from satoru's "help" than benefiting. "you're not around that much anymore to help me so i don't know what to do." his tiny eyebrows furrow and you reach out to run your fingers through his spiky black hair.

"i'm really sorry i'm not around as much anymore. do you want me to ask nanami? he handles math all the time."

"i think that'd be worse than satoru."

"you can't get much worse than satoru, buddy," you concede and his mouth turns up a little bit. nothing like a little insulting his mentor to get the boy's mood improved. still, his frown returns like it's his default expression.

"what if i can't do it? what if i'm not like everyone else?" it made your chest ache in a different way when megumi or his sister said something like that, like they were well aware that they weren't normal children. your heart panged for them and mourned their loss of a "normal" childhood just because they were born into a big three clan. it wasn't fair and it was something you lamented to satoru almost every week. you couldn't tell the boy any of that, though, no matter how much you wanted to explain why he wasn't like the rest of the kids in his class.

"just try your best, okay? sometimes, that's all we can do. you're already doing great by asking for help. it's not your fault if someone doesn't know how to help you, so just keep trying." he nodded determinedly; after another hour past dinnertime, you finally finished walking him through the rest of the problems while satoru draped his lanky body over the couch behind you, watching defeatedly over your shoulder.

"is there anything we can do to help him with math?" you ask, unconsciously weaving your fingers with satoru's and giving it a light squeeze. he squeezes back three times. i-love-you.

"he just needs a little reassurance that he's on the right track sometimes."

"mmm, don't we all," you murmur and you don't expect the teacher to laugh softly under her breath, muttering her agreement. before you know it, you've organized megumi's papers into his folder and picked him up from the playground outside his classroom, taking his hand as you walk back to the car.

"your teacher says you're doing well in class."

"really?"

"mhmm, though i didn't need her to tell me that since i already know." you shoot him a small smile, leaning into satoru's body as his arm wraps around your torso. "you, however, need to learn some manners," you lightheartedly tease, knocking your elbow against his abs. "you were not helping in there, you menace."

"it was boring, what do you want me to do?" his tone is so carefree, so comfortingly satoru it made your heart melt.

"it's a parent-teacher conference, not parents. you could have waited outside if you were so bored. went to play on the playground or something." his head dips close to your ear and you feel some strands of his hair brush against your skin.

"but then i don't get to watch you be all mature and put-together."

"trying to follow my example?"

"trying to break your composure," he corrects with a sly grin. "i'm the fun one, after all."

"that's one way to put it," megumi deadpans without hesitation and you stifle a snort.

"i'm one of a kind!"

"you're out of your mind, is what you are." before he can protest, you press a kiss to his cheek and he turns a slightly opaquer shade of pink. "but i wouldn't have you any other way."

[thef1diary]

Little Big Fan | Nine

— Little Big Phone Calls

Series Masterlist

wc: 1.7k

Ever since you had brought Isabella home from the hospital, quite a few things happened.

Twenty-four hours after she was discharged, Tyler finally had the nerve to give you a call. You debated whether or not you should pick up the call as you glared at the screen while it rang, but then you didn't want to stoop down to his level either.

"Is Isabella okay?" were his first words, and if it weren't then you definitely would've unleashed hell upon him. "Yeah she's okay, no thanks to you," you scoffed.

Then he proceeded to claim that you didn't have the right to take Isabella home from the hospital because she was supposed to stay with him for the weekend. You sighed, rubbing your forehead, as you considered how to explain the issue to him in a calm manner.

"You weren't even there when it happened," you started, but then he had the audacity to interrupt you, "I was in a meeting."

"You're always in a fucking meeting! You left our daughter with Emma, it is not her responsibility to take care of our child." You lost your patience rather quickly, and you were glad that Isabella was currently at a classmate's birthday party so she didn't hear your argument. Leave it to her to quickly befriend others.

He was silent for a moment, "Emma is my girlfriend, and she doesn't have an issue with staying with Isabella so neither should you."

You paced around the room, having a strong urge to throw the phone against the wall. "Emma is not the problem, I'm grateful for her actually. The issue is that you need to get your shit together and choose if you want to be a father or a businessman, and quite frankly, you're doing a shit job at both right now."

You didn't wait for his response, hanging up and tossing your phone on your desk while burying your head in your palms.

Then, to make matters worse, you realized that Max's ten-day vacation was almost over, because he had to return to racing. You had quickly become accustomed to his presence and began missing him the moment he left your house a few days later.

You may or may not have hugged him for a few minutes too long on the day he was leaving, especially after knowing that he would be busy with back to back races for two weeks.

When you parted away, Max placed his palms on your cheeks and made direct eye contact with you. "When I'm back, me and you are going on that date," he stated in a tone of finality and you nodded, agreeing with him. "I'll be waiting."

Ruffling Isabella's hair until she smacked his hands away before smoothing it herself, Max had to remind her of school when she asked if he would take her to the races as well. He would have agreed if he had been a little more gullible.

"Gifts?" She settled for instead, earning a laugh from Max and widened eyes from you. "Isabella!" You exclaimed but couldn't hold back your smile at her request.

She shrugged, looking at Max, "if you want," she added. "Always," he responded, since he had already planned on buying a few gifts for both of you.

Then it was just you and Isabella, and even then you were alone when you returned home after dropping her off at school. You never had a problem with being alone at home until you experienced the joy of being with others.

—

Isabella was up bright and early on race day, considering that the race took place earlier in the morning in your time zone. However, you knew she would take a nap as soon as the podium celebrations were over, not wanting to stay up for the interviews. Which is exactly what she did after the last race you watched together, but her "tiredness" could've been due to the fact she was disappointed that Max had not won that race.

You remember the conversation you had with him after that race, and he was quite upset—rightfully so in your opinion as it wasn't a driver issue, but rather a technical problem.

"I don't think my lucky charm works from such a distance," he told you, making you furrow your brows, "what lucky charm?"

"You, of course. Please come to another race soon," he explained, earning a chuckle from you with a blush rising to your cheeks. "I'll think about it."

Today’s race was a different story, because Max had been leading during the entire weekend, always coming out on top for all the practices, qualifying, and even during the race itself.

Later that night, Max called you and you immediately congratulated him for the win. "See, you don't need a lucky charm." He made a sound in denial, "I think it's because I called you right before getting in the car, but we can test it properly when you're at a race again."

"You'll have to try harder than that to convince me," you teased with a chuckle. "I have two more weeks to convince you in person, I think I can manage."

"You're going to be here for the whole two weeks?" You could hear the grin in his voice, "I'm flying out in two days, plus the last time I checked, I have a date with the most attractive woman I know and I am not cancelling those plans at all."

You muttered his name, "did I ever tell you that you're the sweetest." He hummed, "maybe, but I don’t mind hearing it again."

"You're the sweetest, kindest and I'm glad you're coming back."

"Did you think I wouldn't?" You shrugged, "well, I thought you would be busy with the season and all." He was quiet for a moment, making your jaw drop, "you didn't."

He hummed and you gasped, "Max..."

"Yes, schat?" He pretended as if nothing was wrong. "Did you cancel any plans for the week?" You asked, slipping past the unknown word he used, knowing that you'll be searching it up later.

"None were as important as flying back to you, but I think that Christian is keeping an eye on me," he revealed and while you wanted to comment on his words, you were intrigued by his boss. "Why's that?"

"He keeps wondering why I am more interested in my phone than the meetings." You couldn't hold in your laugh, "Max, I had no idea you were in meetings while texting me."

Before the conversation could continue on, you heard pitter patter of footsteps coming down the stairs. You noticed the time, and it was past Isabella's usual bedtime so you wondered why she was still awake.

"Hold on, Max, I think Bella's awake." Isabella walks towards you with a shy smile, quickly climbing onto the couch and cuddling you.

You didn’t hang up, instead you put your phone on the side as you wrapped your arms around her. "Mama, do I have to go to daddy's next week?"

"You don't want to?" You asked while brushing your fingers through her hair. You felt her shrug, "I don't know."

"Did something happen?" You pulled back to see her face that had a frown growing. "I met Emma,"

"Yeah? How is she?" Her frown turned into a small smile as she thought of Emma, "very nice, she plays some games with me, oh and we baked together too."

"That's good..but?" You urged, watching her small smile slip back into a frown. "But daddy doesn't spend time with me anymore and he says bad things about you."

You raised your brow, wanting to focus on your daughter's words before you think about having another conversation with Tyler. "Like what?"

"He says that you're not a good person but I think you're amazing! You're the best mama in the whole world." Her little arms reached around you, placing a small kiss on your cheek.

"Aw thank you, angel," you peppered kisses all over her cheeks until she started giggling.

"So do I have to go?" She asked, snuggling up next to you while fighting back a yawn. You shook your head, "no, if you don't want to, then you don't have to go."

"Good, I want to spend time here, with you and Maxy," her toothy grin was back as soon as she mentioned him. "With Max? You like him?" You could've guessed her answer but it was reassuring when she nodded, "sooo much, he's so nice and he buys me ice cream and glittery clips."

You threw your head back with a laugh, "oh Bella, you can't just like him because he buys things for you."

"But mama he's also nice and he makes you smile." She stated, making you snap your head towards her, and you could see her smile turning a little mischievous.

"What?" She shifted in your lap, wrapping her fingers in your hair as she continued speaking, "I like it when you smile and he makes you smile, right mama?"

"Yeah he does." You glanced at the phone, the call still ongoing so you know Max heard every part of your conversation.

Looking back at your daughter, you suggested, "why don't you go back to sleep, you have school tomorrow morning."

"Can you read me a story?" She asked with hopeful eyes, and you quickly nodded, "of course, why don't you get all comfy in bed and I'll be right there?"

"Okay mama." you kissed her forehead before she slid off your lap, running back upstairs.

You pick up the phone again, "are you still there?" Max hummed in response, "yeah, I'm here."

"I'm guessing you heard everything," you didn't mind it at all, but still needed confirmation. "I did. She not wrong, you are an amazing mother." He chose not to comment on the topic relating to your ex, knowing that it would ruin the mood.

"I've had help lately," your tone indicates that you're speaking of Max as help. "I try."

"Before Bella comes back down to ask for you again, I have to say one thing," Max started and you urged him to continue, "go on,"

"You make me smile too," he stated, reiterating the comment made by your daughter.

Taglist: (continuing the taglist in comments) @xjval @mrsmaybank13 @cherry-piee @urfavnoirette @solphin @burningcupcakefire @nessacarty1 @dreamsarebig @omgsuperstarg @fanficweasley @redbullgirly @llando4norris @wonnou @randomgirlnumber13 @dark-night-sky-99 @chanshintien @leilanixx @gisellesprettylies @peachiicherries @monsieurbacteria6 @67-angelofthelordme-67 @arian-directioner @distancedss @morenofilm @sachaa-ff @lighttsoutlewis @teamnovalak @casperlikej @sadg3 @d3kstar @lewisvinga @lpab @queenofmanydreams @glitterf1 @honethatty12 @drunk-teens-doing-drugs @its-avalon-08 @yourbane @oconswrld @noneofyourfbusinessworld @ssrcsm @softtina @hockeyboysarehot @formulaal @namgification @tallrock35 @bloodyymaryyy @formulanni @ellouisa17 @phantomxoxo

[3hks]

Flaws to Add to Characters

So, are you searching on how to make your character a little bit less perfect without giving them too many extreme deficiencies? Well, I have a few examples, and some of you guys might've not even realized that they're flaws!

Inability to get over the past - This doesn't have to be as serious as people think! Maybe the past just influenced your character in a way that affects their modern life!

Self-reliance - This doesn't sound like a flaw, doesn't it? Well, in some cases, it could be an issue a character struggles to overcome, and other times, it can actually be a part of a character's development! However, the act of never accepting help from someone is most definitely a shortcoming.

Apathy - I think that this is pretty self-explanatory. Over-passionate people are dangerous, but worse than that are people who don't care enough.

Over-passionate - It's still a flaw, guys! Having too much passion for one thing to the point where nothing else matters is harmful to your character.

Vengeful - Revenge is a strong fuel, but never the answer.

Detached - Almost like self-reliance, but to a more severe degree, where they don't see the need for not only anyone's help, but for anyone in general.

Possessiveness - If a character is too possessive towards another character, it could harm the latter's mental health and ruin any relationship between the two.

Manipulative - Manipulation is detrimental to people's mental health and stability, as they are being used carelessly and left with confusion about their identity, beliefs, and/or purpose!

Self-destructive - Honestly, this has a pretty wide range of examples, it could go from neglecting oneself to actual self-harm. Either way, it's definitely not healthy for a character.

Superiority/God complex - The problem is in the name: a character with these complexes simply believes that they are better than everyone else. It's similar to arrogance, but not quite the same.

Here you go! Ten flaws that you can incorporate in your characters!

Happy writing~

3hks ^^