#like i said i am so tired and this community has caused part of my fatigue

[lurkingshan]

Unknown Episode 7

What a pitch perfect separation episode; this show continues to kill it. The loneliness and heartache was practically wafting out of my screen this week, and it made the time apart feel real and meaningful even as it came to an end relatively quickly in show time.

Qian hardly said a word this episode, but we know exactly how devastated he was to be without Yuan because his despair was present in every moment. It was in the way he always looked drawn and tired, the way he moved so listlessly, they way he seemed to be constantly self-soothing with substances, the way he kept getting lost in his head and staring off at something only he could see. Even when he got it together a little at San Pang's urging, he focused his efforts on keeping Yuan's room tidy and every mention of Yuan by a friend or acquaintance still caused pain to bloom on his face. His home was too quiet without his siblings and he missed them both, but his yearning was specific to Yuan and he was not just lonely, but heartsick. He was tense for this entire episode--right up until the moment he was finally able to lean on Yuan, take a breath, and relax.

For Yuan's part, he did his best to honor his brother's request, and used his time away to better himself. He took school seriously and worked diligently so that he would be able to come home some day. He respected Qian's boundaries, only contacting him on holidays and never pushing for more communication than what Qian was willing to grant him. Lili came home on every school break, but Yuan stayed away as requested. And his patience paid off when Qian finally relented and invited him home. The way he stepped out of that cab (bangs parted now so we know he's matured) and immediately reasserted his role in Qian's life felt important; he's not coming home with his tail tucked between his legs. He's important to Qian and he still has a role in this family and he is confident about that. Qian calmly letting himself be led away and falling right back into their old caretaking patterns said it all; Yuan has been missed.

I am interested to see how the show goes about revealing the Lili and San Pang relationship, which seems to have started sometime during this time skip, and how that will play into the larger repair of the family bond. They did not have a romance in the novel, so I'm curious to see what narrative purpose it will serve here. I appreciated that San Pang realized quickly that separating Qian from Yuan didn't actually help him at all; he'll think twice before interfering again. Lili, meanwhile, still doesn't know the cause of the fracture between her brothers, but most of the people around Qian seem to understand how Yuan's absence is affecting him. I liked the scene with Xiong Da Fang, which was a nod to his story in the source material (in the novel we actually saw him take that vow of monkhood and try to live that way for awhile before coming back to go into business with Qian) and a much needed reminder of who Qian is. The show is surrounding our little family with people who understand them and get why Qian and Yuan's bond is so different from the norm. They will need that community as their relationship continues to change.

[gordontheengineswifenirmal]

The asexual struggle -

When it comes to the ‘are we LGBTQ+’ question, a lot of us asexuals have complexities far beyond the label, or multiple associations.

Let’s start at the beginning. For folks who are traditional LGTBQ+ - do u remember how hard it was to get to the limited, tepid (to say the least) level off acceptance that you have today? Asexuality in general isn’t there yet. We are still a few decades behind in the society’s mind. We share a lot of similar struggles - we are seen as broken, people think we choose who we are, than can/want to/should be ‘fixed’, etc. we too have dangerous negative associations attached to us. We get called paedo, we are called prudes or incels, we are told we can and should change. Society needs to understand that the lack of attraction, and/or lack of desire, resolution, etc. - and everything in between deserves just as much recognition as this who have heterosexual, or lgbtq+ sexual identities.

What puts us behind? We are rarely even acknowledged. We are the red headed stepchild, sort to speak. No one really knows us, or our struggles, they don’t care. They think we are a joke. It’s incredibly hurtful and damaging. We are frequently overlooked and misunderstood. We are often not taken seriously, and frequently ignored by both straight and other other non straight folks. We have fighting within our own community that causes confusion. This still does not give anyone an excuse to invalidate our existence. We, just like anyone else, didn’t choose it. Some folks struggle with it. Some of us have learned to embrace it in the wake up struggle, but there is usually struggle. Additionally, some folks can be both lgbtq+ AND some form of asexual. (In my case, I like male characters who are not human or animals. Apparently I’ve developed a thing for male machines lol.)

For some folks, the LGBTQ+ identity has more relevance. That is ok, as long as they have sincere intentions, and aren’t looking for attention. Yes, using sexually/gender identification for attention - that is a thing, and it’s been a thing for ages. For me, the label doesn’t mean so much. I don’t even really say I’m queer. I’m definitely unique, and I’ll stick to that. This does not mean that I feel there’s anything wrong with those who do identify more with LGBTQ+. I’m still an ally. I’m not going to hate someone who decides I’m not part of that greater label. I do take extreme offence with those who ‘bingo’ me, and invalidate who I am, or think I’m not serious about it. Worse yet, the ones who think I chose to be asexual, or decide they will ignore how I feel because they don’t know what sexuality is, and don’t care to open up their minds and learn. Then there are those who pretend to be asexual because they are trying to gain something from you, and it’s not clear wtf their intentions are. Or, sometimes it is. Still cringe.

However, in many aspects of society, there’s an unspoken social competition - men vs. Women, sexuality vs sexuality, culture vs culture, religion vs religion, political affiliation vs another political affiliation. There is some relevance behind the reasoning for some of these, but not all. Some of it has become an ego game. This behaviour is toxic. It does not good for anyone involved. It simply persuades prejudice and ignorance. Education, and the willingness to learn is paramount. This was said about the lgbtq+ community, and still is. The asexual community is now saying the same. This is what we are penultimately asking for. We want to learn how to be more recognised, more accepted in society, and given our rightful place. We agree that the mindset of ‘heterosexual is the only healthy identity’ is wrong. Please do not treat us like we are the enemy, especially when we are sex/romance repulsed. We seem gain the most eye rolls - both from within and outside our own own ace sphere. It’s a tiring argument, and we need to spend that energy toward more productive things, working together to help make things better for all ‘minority identities’. Even if u don’t identify with someone else’s sexual identity, respect it. That’s the most important thing. You would want that too. You wouldn’t want to be treated as a joke, as if your sexuality doesn’t matter. Don’t do this to others. This includes all of us in the asexual community, no matter what that may mean for us individually.

[cattistic]

I saw some people doing this, so here i go. This is part 1 of my autism symptoms and how they affect me. Part 2 will arrive shortly after this post.

Social/Communication Stuff (Online)

I don’t have that much friends at school, but i have a ton of online friends, especially on Twitter. They’re all autistic and all with various support needs. But we don’t talk to each other in real life, or even via a Twitter group chat or anything like that. 

Social/Communication Stuff (In Real Life/IRL)

I only have one friend that i got back when i was in elementary school. He was undiagnosed autistic and that must have been why i was attracted to him, as was two of his friends. The both of them clearly didn’t seem normal, and one of them needed an EA (Educational Assistant) for self/emotional regulation help like i often did. I rarely go out of my way to meet him in high school, nor do i go out of my way to talk to someone i don’t really know even if they are a  class or bus mate. And if i do make a friend, i often drift away from said friend after a while but i am fine with being with them if they can meet me in the Program Support room for lunch. 

Restrictive/Repetitive Behaviours

I don’t really notice when i have these behaviours, so i can’t really tell.

Self Stimulatory Behaviour

My mom has noticed that whenever i’m mad or excited, i will flap my hands. They know that if i’m flapping, i’m mad or excited and that can cause a meltdown. I have noticed, however, that i’ve been licking my lips more. I think i am because i’m tired or i’m copying a character, like the Joker. I also play with my hair and others hair, possibly because i like the sensation of it. I think i’m more of a tactile/visual kinda stimmer, or really likes stims from all of my senses, even vocally.

Part 1 end. Be sure to watch for Part 2, it'll arrive afterwards this post as i have queued the both of them.

[findafight]

It is tiring to be regarded as a 'homophobe' when you claim to not like a queer ship or say you do not think a queer ship is going to be canon & should not go canon. ST fandom has this type of fans especially Bylers and recently Ronancers. Sorry that I do not think Byler has a chance of being wrapped up in a nice way when the writers actively refused to even breakup Mileven in this season and intentionally added a confession scene on the show from Mike to El. We literally have 1 season left with everything else going on in a limited time frame but I am expected to be okay with the possible resolution of this whole thing, and should expect a nice wrap up where we supposedly will see Mileven break up, Mike and El moving on from each other, there will be a time for them to adjust to that, for Mike to consider dating Will HECK even for Will to consider confessing and dating Mike, for the writers to make that all believable to the audience in a nice way within the narrative.... and I am expected to like Ronance when Stobin is one of the most important platonic relationships on the show and we canonically know Nancy and Steve's break up was bad, and that Steve still has feelings for Nancy. I want to see representation, I really do but it feels like the fandom itself is bending any logic and sensibility to make a ship seem reasonable and make sense within the narrative... when it really does not.

God. Yeah. Like sure queer people can have internalized homophobia or intra community basis (like bi/a/trans phobia) etc but to say someone's a bigot just because they don't like the a fictional ship, or even that they just don't think it will be canon, is just silly and causing problems on purpose.

The intense blr shippers have really turned me off the ship, honestly. I have a few asks from them saved as drafts just to get them out of my inbox, and they're saying the same as others "we're fighting homophobia" "you're just as bad as people saying why don't we shut up about blr and ship mlvn if you don't think this has been part of a grand and epic master plan for the greatest romance ever" as well as just not understanding what the very specific phenomena of queerbaiting is, all telling me I don't belong in the ship because I don't ship it correctly. So. Makes me feel bad and really disappointed. People who ship mlvn (which my original post was also tagged, because it discusses them too) DIDNT come to my inbox and call me names or a fake shipper when I said I thought they should break up. Make of that what you will.

As much as Will and Mike getting together would mean to people, putting that much emotional weight and expectation and emphasis on a single aspect of a show, a single ship, is not healthy. It also, if it does happen, will not be the epic romance planned from the start they think it is. (We remember tjlc, right?? RIGHT??) If it happens it will possibly be slap dash and rushed, because you're right. There's a lot happening, the show struggles with ending/starting romances, and they are NOT the only characters that matter. The breathing room required for both Mike and El AND the audience to make the breakup feel real and that enough time has passed to not make Mike look like an asshole for immediately dating his ex's brother (and for Will not to look like an ass for dating his sister's ex?!?) Is now insufficient given how short the seasons are, and as you said, they should've broken up in S4 to pull that off.

And then the fandom would likely feel a bit cheated after building it up so much in their heads, only for it to be a bit of a flop. But I guess a lot of people don't mind how Nancy and Jonathan got together, so with the way some of the people in my inbox were talking about El then it could be like that too. Just. Not giving a shit if someone, a character I personally love, was really hurt and betrayed by her recently ex boyfriend and her BROTHER.

Pretending it was all fine because romantic love is the most important thing ever to them I guess. When it's not, especially in the show! Non romantic bonds are so important to these characters! It would just ruin it for me, because what I was originally saying was that Will, Mike, and El all mean so much to each other and actively try to not hurt one another (even if the do accidentally or end up hurting themselves) and that, because Will and El are siblings now, Will might think twice about dating Mike so soon after he broke up with El. It would make them look cold hearted and selfish tbh. That's why a good ending would be Will feeling comfortable enough to come out, and being accepted by his friends. (All of them not just Mike) and that final emphasis on the Party as a whole rather than individual Romo relationships.

It's actually very important to consider other people's feelings in everyday life, I think. Sure, ultimately they shouldn't dictate all your actions, but there will be consequences for some of them. They can lose friendships, or other relationships. It can also make a character look REALLY BAD.

For rnce, people go on about how Robin absolutely does not need to consider Steve's feelings in pursuing a girl. (Ignoring other issues people have with the ship that have nothing to do with Steve, lol) And sure. Okay. For every girl but the one that broke his heart, cheated on him, and who he still has feelings for that Robin herself encouraged. People are out here saying they could be endgame without completely ruining stobin's friendship like huh??? Do they understand Robin "what if we just combined" Buckley? Do they not care about the most important relationship in her life? Do they not care about her beyond how she can hype up Nancy instead of one of those icky boys?

A problem I have with rnce is that a lot of the writing saying it could be canon (which, lbr, it won't be. While I think blr may be canon just in a kind of disappointing way, I don't think there's any chance of rnce happening, especially with Vickie right there blushing and flirting with Robin) only focuses on how it would be good for Nancy, or if it's trying to make it seem good for Robin ignores their personalities and other relationships. Like Nancy isn't annoyed by Robin until Robin's speech gets them into Penherst, or that Nancy wasn't dismissive of Robin's ideas, and Robin wasn't clearly nervous and apologizing for being annoying in order to get Nancy to like her (tbh I think Nancy should have been the one pursuing a friendship with Robin instead of the other way around but alas). Tbh I could go on about how Nancy and her relationships and her needs/wants inside those are often misdirected? Misidentified? By fandom, and how that feeds into Robin being reduced to someone who supports Nancy (which, if people complain about Robin considering her bffs feelings about her dating someone, shouldn't they complain about her becoming a glorified cheerleader for Nancy...oh. it's because it's romantic. And some parts of this fandom value that most.) In rnce, which strips Robin of her personality and makes it boring. But this is already long haha (Not to mention it'd be super weird for Nancy to be dating her ex she cheated on and never actually told she cheated on him's best friend. Awkward!!)

I used to not mind rnce that much, tbh. I didn't get it and did think it was weird but the art was cute! And now it's sort of an alarm bells for people being weird about stobin.

Steve and Robin's relationship, like so many platonic relationships but more glaring with just how obsessed with each other they are, is often devalued by the fandom by virtue of the idea that a romantic partner needs/should be someone's number 1. Even though those two want to combine, and are seen taking active roles in trying to get them a romantic relationship, and are really the first person the other felt they could be completely themself around. They're the most important person to the other, regardless of their romantic relationship status.

[lochrannn]

Sending this ask to a few tua accounts!

Diegolila is probably my favorite ship in the show, but I've been thinking about this a lot lately. What would you change about their relationship in season 4? Obviously they're not in the honeymoon phase anymore, and they have three kids, so I feel like naturally they would go through a rough patch. But what made me sad in season 4 was that none of it got fixed. The five/lila relationship aside, it was weird to see Lila be just completely disconnected from Diego and not come to any realizations about her relationship with him, especially because she IS a deep character and she really does love him. Plus, I don't completely agree with her being a housewife either. It hurts to see them fight and stuff because I feel like they're 2 characters who are really in sync with each other and who make each other better people, but it hurt a lot more when their arcs ended in them basically not really loving each other anymore.

TLDR how would you rewrite their relationship in season 4? Would Lila still be a housewife/Diego a delivery driver? Who would try to fix the relationship first? Why would the relationship go through the rough patch in the first place? Is it because they're both just tired of each other/suburban life/kids? Or is it something else? Would they try to fix it in the first place?

Sorry this is a really long ask, but I love all your tua takes and I feel like they ripped off Diego and Lila in the worst way this season. Would love to know your thoughts.

Sorry, this took me a while to get to but it's an interesting ask!

There is a small issue I'm having though and that's that I'm sort of answering some of that questoin in the fic I'm writing, and, while that might sound self-indulgent, I don't wanna spoil it XD

That being said, I think I can definitely think about some of the specifics you're asking about.

In terms of how, in general, could one do something with the fact that after 6 years and 3 kids with no fun up relationship in which they could have properly got to know each other ahead of time and that probably causes some issues down the road, I had actually started planning out a fic about a year ago and then never wrote it and now won't as I'm using some stuff in the fic I am writing.

My initial plan also included Lila starting to sneak and withdrawing but instead of cheating it turns out she's been drawn in by the commissoin, some alt version of the Handler who has her convinced that the Diego she's living with is not her Diego... listen, I was going to work out the time travel/time line mechanics later, basically I was trying to get to a Mr & Mrs Smith (the movie) style blow out fight that ends with them smooching.

What I'm saying is, with how volitile their relationship has always been, making them not be all functional is a logical step in the story telling, I take no issue with that. But previous precedent had always been that they care enough to try and find a messy way back to being together, that whatever else, that's more important to them, and just taking that completely away is what bugs me most.

Anyway, to your specific questions: there's a lot of people headcanoning Diego as a stay at home dad, and I guess, yeah, possible, but I think he's a bit to feral for that and on that note, so i Lila, so I would have them both have meh jobs that they hate their bosses at and part of what has caused strain on the relationship is that they are both endlessly busy and find no eral time for each other. (Which also leads to a way to resolve this issue in decent communication and them making an effort to be a couple again).

I have in the past written some fics where I immagined them as a family living the suburban life and Lila finding it...trying... but in my head, she would treat it like a mission, do both the best job she can at it, while basically trying as hard as possible to infiltrate every element of this unfamiliar world and then for some shits and giggles, sow some benign chaos.

Diego being Dad with a mustache and too much care for his van and telling people to take their shoes off in his home tracks. I have no notes. Other than the weird bits where they made him say the words claiming he resents this life but then make him good at it and seem pretty happy, I think they nailed Dad Diego. Shame they made him miserable on puprose, but I digress.

I really enjoyed the first four episodes because I was convinced Diego and Lila would both learn something and want to be together again, I don't think that is trite, I think that is how adult relationships go some times. Lila.... well....

Thanks for the ask!

I haven't been posting much about my thoughts on the season because they are quite jumbled and I'm not pushed to go back and watch it again (which is a real fucking shame, but here we are) to try and sort some details out.

What are your thoughts?

[metamorphosisff]

|Seven| Breaking Patterns

“Wait!”

I’m running, knees to chest down fourth ave, towards the van on the corner. Xavier was just stepping inside when he heard my voice frantically yell ‘wait’ over and over again. It’s not my fault that I am late but in this situation it won’t matter. Courts don’t care about obnoxious bosses that didn’t let you go until a replacement arrived. There is no way I can miss even one day of community service or else my misdemeanor will go on record and my plea deal out of the window. My lungs are burning when I make it to the van and I can see the members of our group staring from the windows. I flash my middle finger which makes a few of them avert their gazes.

“Take a breath, we weren’t going to leave you. Jazz threatened to pretend to stroke out if we did,” Xavier said, causing me to chuckle as I hoisted myself inside. He climbs in behind me and soon we’re off. Today we’re back on the side of some highway picking up trash.

“Thanks for looking out Jazz,” I say, plopping down next to her in the front. Her hair is back in its usual braids and the marvelous nails from last Thursday gone. I wouldn’t waste a good look on community service either.

“I got you Birdie, drink some water before you pass out,” Jazz says, slipping my water bottle out from my bag and pushing it into my hands.

We’re in the middle of a heat wave, my shirt, and pants are clinging to me in the worst of ways. I take several gulps as the van joins midday traffic. Xavier flashes an amused look in my direction but the squint I send back has him focusing back on the attendance sheet on the top of his clipboard. Since we hung out last week we’ve spoken at least once everyday whether through texts or phone calls. Our silent exchange doesn’t go unnoticed by Jazz but she waits until we are armed with pokers and trash bags before her inquisition begins.

“Spill it lil girl,” Jazz says once we find our piece of the side of the road to call our own. We are out of earshot from any elephant ears.

“It’s not that deep, I agreed to let him try to be my friend,” I said, with a shrug. That might be an oversimplification but it’s the gist of the situation thus far. 

“Good, don’t let him just try, let him be. You saw him again after the meeting?” Jazz asked, having sensed our growing closeness. 

“Yeah, last weekend. We went to this food festival at Bryant Park. It was nice, he’s not so bad. We talk on the phone sometimes,” I replied.

“See what happens when you give folks a chance?” Jazz says.

“Ehh not too much on me Jazz. I’m a work in progress,” I chuckled as I tied the garbage bag around a belt loop. It’s easier than trying to fight with it in my hand as I move around.

“As long as you're progressing, that’s all that matters, trust me. I got a good feeling about Mr. Clipboard,” Jazz says, before she starts humming a Donna Summer song.

That’s my cue to take what she’s said and to go on about my business. This is one of those days where we work side by side in comfortable silence and I don’t mind. It allows me to slow down for the first time today. I lose myself in random mental checklists and by the time I’m done so are we. We’re back in the van and are being dumped off in midtown once more. Tonight Xavier teaches, so he doesn’t linger like normal to watch us all get off of the van. He manages to toss me a smile and head nod before heading into his office to grab his stuff. Jazz and I take the trek to the train station on 49th and part ways with a promise to speak later. 

By the time I make it back to my neck of the woods I’m exhausted but not too tired to yell at Papi through the park fence two blocks from our building. “PAPI! Let’s go!”

It’s already close to seven, the basketball court is growing with older kids, and adults which means he no longer needs to be around. He doesn’t question me or plead for more time, simply daps up his friends, and scoops up his bag from a pile on the ground. In less than a minute, he’s jogging by my side, and enveloping me in a sweaty hug.

“Auntie, I'm hungry and Ma’ forgot to leave something. I don’t want cereal,” Papi says, scrunching up his face at the thought.

“I’m making pasta tonight. After you take a shower, come over, and I got you. I’ll leave the door unlocked,” I said.

“Okay, thanks. I thought I was about to be down bad,” he jokes, flashing me a grin.

“Boy please.”

He laughs because he knows I would not let him eat cereal for dinner but being dramatic comes second nature with Mari as his mother. We make quick work of the rest of our short walk before heading into our respective apartments. I take a fast shower, setting the water for the pasta to boil while I wash the grim of the day away. When I finish, I dress in some biker shorts and an oversized Yankees t-shirt I’m pretty sure used to be my father’s. I’m in the middle of placing ground meat into a sauté pan when I hear the front door open and close.

“Papi go in the living room and watch TV. Dinner will be done in like thirty,” I say, adding seasoning to the pan.

“Y’all having dinner without me?” a raspy voice asks, causing me to whip around.

Standing on the other side of the kitchenette counter is my ex Trevor. I frown instantly as I take in the sight of the person I thought I loved. What he and I had was volatile for a lack of better words. We were a season that lasted way too long but his passion is what kept me near. It’s also what ultimately drove me away. He was too possessive and I didn’t like that shit. Case and point, this unwelcomed pop up.

“What the fuck are you doing in here?” I say, moving closer to the knife block.

“Why did you have the door unlocked?” he chuckles, leaning across the counter. He’s dressed in basketball shorts and a graphic t-shirt. Clothes that will let him move stealthily. I eye the knives once again.

“Trevor. I’m about to treat you like an intruder. The fuck do you want?” I asked.

“Jamila chill out, I didn’t even come to argue with you. I wanted to see how you were doing,” he said, drumming his tan fingers against the counter. His knuckles were bruised which is of no surprise. He is always in a fight, with others and with himself.

“I was doing fine until you got here and I will do better when you leave. I don’t want to talk to you. Make this the last time you come here,” I said.

“Damn, it’s like that? I know we go through our little squabbles but-

“Nah call it what it is, you hit me,” I said, causing him to flinch which incenses me further. How dare he act like a victim. 

“I didn’t mean to do that for real, you were just doing a lot, and it was a reflex. An accident for real baby,” Trevor said, taking a step closer causing me to take a step back. The heat from the stove causes me to move up slightly and I can see him calculating how he’ll close the space between us.

“Do not call me that! It wasn’t an accident, you were sober, and it only needs to happen one time for me to know it’ll happen again. I’m not interested. So you need to leave, if you have any respect for me at all.”

Shaking my head I couldn’t even believe I have to say this but I do because Trevor walks through life thinking everyone should bend to his will. If they didn’t do it of their own volition, he became forceful. Whatever bullshit is about to be spewed from his lips is interrupted by Papi and one of the older boys from downstairs coming in armed with bats.

“Aye Ms. Jamila, you aight?” Carlos asks, as he eyes Trevor. For a fifteen year old, he’s built like a D-1 college football player. Trevor’s lanky frame is no match for this kid’s and he knows it, raising his hands in retreat.

“I’m good love, please escort this nigga off the premises. He seems to be lost,” I said, as Papi goes to hold the door wide open.

“Fine Jamila, I see how it is,” Trevor huffs, marching through the door with Carlos trailing behind him. “Don’t know what I was thinking about coming back to your crazy ass anyway.”

“Me either, good riddance. C, come get a plate in like twenty minutes,” I said, following them until I hit my doorway.

It’s the least I can do for him having to play bodyguard for me. Carlos nods his head but doesn’t take his eyes off of Trevor as they walk down the stairs. 

“Auntie, you good? Do I need to call Ma’?” Papi asks, hugging me tightly.

“No my love, let’s not bother her. I’m okay really, you did me proud. Earned my last icee in the fridge for being brave and calling for help,” I said, running my fingers through his dense curls in an effort to soothe him and myself.

“I never liked that guy Auntie,” he sighed, releasing me so that he could step back inside my apartment. “I hope that’s the last we see of him.”

“Me too Papi, me too.”

His words haunt me, so eerily similar to Xavier’s that day he told me about Sabrina. I’m more like his cousin than he knows. I don’t want her ending. I make a mental note to be more on guard for a while in case Trevor tries to come back a second time. Hopefully he has finally accepted that I am no longer interested.

His visit makes Papi extra clingy tonight as the ten year old insists on sleeping in my living room with the bat by his side instead of in his own bed across the hall. I let Marissa know in a voice note what’s happened before her son can beat me to it. This is one thing I don’t need him exaggerating. When that’s done, I lock up, clean the kitchen, and finally head back into my bedroom. I leave the door cracked like I always do when Papi is over. It’s late but my mind is restless. After a brief debate, I call the one person I know who is awake at this hour.

“‘It must be pigs flying somewhere if you called me first,” is how Xavier picks up the line, chuckling to himself.

“Don’t make me hang up on you,” I said, leaning back into my pillows.

“I kid, I kid. What’s on your mind Jamila?” he asks, with what sounds like the wind blowing in the background.

“Are you still outside?” I reply instead.

“Yeah, I stayed late to walk some students through a few errors made on their last test. Got off the train not too long ago,” he said.

“Ahh okay, I can hear the wind but uh to answer your question, Sabrina is on my mind. The story you told me,” I replied.

I hear his breath catch but he recovers quickly and says, “Expound on that a bit please.”

“Let’s say I have an ex like her boyfriend. He only hit me once and I ended it right after it happened. He popped up in my apartment today. Papi and one of his friends had to save me, and he echoed your words ‘I never liked him’ and it scared the shit out of me. Because deep down, I didn’t even like that man, not for real. He was fun and convenient until he was neither. I could have died because I wanted to be special to someone. How fucked up is that?” I breathe out in one shot.

Each sentence had been tossed over and over again in my mind for the duration of the evening. I may not be on drugs like my parents but I sure as hell have the same self-destructive tendencies coded in my DNA. It left me blind to bad decisions until it was too late.

“It’s not fucked up, it’s human. Wanting human interaction is as normal as sensing a predator. You’ve identified where you went wrong and made the corrections needed, don’t be hard on yourself because he’s stuck in the same pattern,” he said.

His words like his voice are soothing but they don’t sink in at the same rate. While his tone makes me settle more underneath my sheets, his words are working hard to make a chink in my armor.

“That is easier said than done. I have a kid sleeping in my living room because he wants to protect me. It should be the other way around,” I sighed.

“You both protect each other in different ways and that’s beautiful,” he says. I hear keys jingling which means he has finally made it home. “How are you doing now though? I know facing him in your space like that was probably scary. Do you think you should call the police?”

“No, I think he got the hint for real today that it’s over between us but how do I feel?,” I shrugged, as if he could see me. “I was scared at first but I’m annoyed more than anything now that it’s all over. The last few months of my life have been a mess and I don’t want that anymore. I want different, even though I don’t know what that looks like for me yet.”

“Just having the intention to want that for yourself will lead you in the right direction. Keep listening to your gut,” he said.

“I will try my hardest,” I said.

“And let me know if he pops up again. I mean it, Jamila,” he said, making sure to emphasize his words with the following, “You hear me?”

“Yes I hear you, I will let you know,” deciding to let him have the last say on that round. I’ve learned there is no point going back and forth with him when he sounds this determined. So I switched the subject instead. “Sounds like you just got in.”

“Yeah but I won’t sleep for another hour or so. I’m starving,” he chuckles as he moves around, shuffling through his home as he gets settled.

“You’re like a bottomless pit. Where does it all go?” I asked. 

“Ha! I workout a lot, it’s how I deal with stress which in turn has my metabolism through the roof,” he explains.

“Hence the bottomless pit,” I say.

“Hence the bottomless pit,” he repeats, as I hear a water faucet turn on. It sounds as if he’s washing his hands because his voice sounds closer like he’s cradling the phone between his shoulder and ear. “Is it cool if we talk a little more or are you tired?”

Ever since the first night we talked on the phone and I fell asleep, he was always sure to ask me if I was up to staying up. He was considerate in small ways that made me wonder about the large ways in which he could be mindful. 

“Yeah, that’s cool, I’m not tired yet.”

I can practically hear his smile through the phone but don’t call him out on it. Instead, I listen to him launch into a spiel about why I should be watching the Marvel shows on Disney Plus. My shoulders drop for the first time in hours as the tension from earlier melts away. Having another friend isn’t so bad after all.

I underestimated precisely how annoying it was to have more than one friend. They noticed things about you in ways that did not make sense. Xavier had been watching me like a hawk this afternoon and in turn, Jazz had been watching him watch me. Tucking a loose braid behind my ear I squinted my eyes at him but all that earned me was an unbothered smirk. The gesture let me know that he wasn’t going to stop.

“Look at y’all with your own silent language and everything,” Jazz said, pretending to dab at tears.

“Pleaseee. He’s acting like a helicopter parent. Just because I threatened to shove this paint brush up Damon’s– or whatever the fuck that weirdo’s name is– ass, doesn’t mean I’m going to do it,” I said.

Waving her hand in the air, Jazz shook her head. “He gave that ashy boy his walking papers right after you did. That’s not why he’s got his eyes all on you.”

“Probably just being annoying and it’s working because he’s getting on my nerves,” I huff, taking a moment to wipe at my brow.

We were outside painting over walls of graffiti on a commercial block that Chelsea’s gentrified residents had been complaining about. All of this work was in vain. The wall would be tagged again the moment we were out of sight. 

Amused Jazz pauses painting to look over at me, “And pray tell why Mr. Clipboard merely looking at you has you in a tizzy?”

I rolled my eyes. Jazz thought we were both lying to ourselves about having a friendship only. Citing some notion about there being too much chemistry between us. Whatever she was seeing, I had yet to see for myself as Xavier has done a great job at respecting my boundaries. I was growing to appreciate his friendship so a part of me didn’t want to see whatever she was seeing. So I’m going to chalk it up as Jazz  reading into things way too much. 

“He’s being aggravating,” I said loudly, which I heard him chuckle at from a distance.

“Mmhm sure that’s it,” Jazz says, stepping closer to bump her hip with mine. “Listen here Birdie, that man is looking at you like you’re a rare jewel. You’re uncomfortable because no one ever told you that you were precious but you are. You deserve to be admired and you also deserve to enjoy it.”

My chest thumps when her words settle between my ears and start to churn in my mind. She’s speaking on thoughts I haven’t had the time to analyze for myself. They were in me, buried deep, where no light shined because I didn’t have time for those thoughts. I did not have time to think why I was constantly alone or why I became accustomed to being so. I did not have the time now either but I was not as quick to dismiss the ever elusive thoughts of ‘what if’.

“Maybe,” I murmured, bumping her hip with mine. “For now, let’s agree that he’s getting on my nerves.”

“I shall not but I will go back to my podcast while you let what I said simmer,” Jazz chuckles.

It’s just as well because I would not have been paying full attention to anything else in the conversation. She had dropped a bomb on me that took over my thoughts for the remainder of the time we were outside. I still wasn’t quite convinced that Xavier was doing what Jazz claimed. When I dropped my supplies in the back of the van, I pulled him to the side to ask.

“Alright, what’s with the staring,” I said.

He snickered, “Besides getting on your nerves?”

Rolling my eyes, I shook my head. “I knew it.”

“Nah, that was an added bonus,” he smirked, as he readjusted his clipboard underneath his arm. “I was staring because though you said you were okay after ol’ boy popped up, I wanted to make sure you weren’t covering up any aches or pains that aren’t in plain sight.”

His amended answer stills me. The ghost of a stranger looms over my shoulders foreshadowing a future I don’t have to have. I just had to keep choosing myself. 

“Like Sabrina?” I asked softly.

Turning his eyes from the van, they landed on mine as he nodded his head, expression growing serious. “Yeah. I promised myself I’d never let another woman go through something like that on my watch especially if I could see the signs.”

In his gaze I saw the gravity of the vow he took and knew by his tone that he considered me as a woman on his watch. As caveman as that sounded, I appreciate the sentiment because I can’t remember if there ever was a time a man protected me from anything. They normally only caused harm in my world. In his eyes I saw the lengths he would be willing to go and I never wanted him to take them. Not after him sharing a bit of his troubled past with me.

“Very Prince Charming of you,” I said, over sharing my observations.

“I’ll be your knight in shining armor anytime Jamila ,” he said with a wink.

“Anddd there the corniness goes. You never leave home without it do you?” I chuckled, causing him to laugh as he walked closer to the van to close the back doors now that all of the supplies were returned.

“Never,” he said, as we walked towards the front. “Speaking of home, is it cool if I escort you?”

My chest did that thumping thing again and I made a mental note to see a doctor as soon as I got good health insurance. Rubbing at the area, I chewed on my bottom lip as I contemplated his offer.

Pausing my stride I said, “You live in the city and I live all the way in East New York. I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You didn’t ask, I offered,” he countered.

“You aren’t going to take no for an answer are you?” I asked, noting the glint he got in his eyes when he was adamant about something.

“As he shouldn’t!” Jazz says from a cracked window, causing us to whip our heads to the left. “Now come on. We don’t have all day and rush hour traffic is not for the faint of heart.”

We chuckle but board the van knowing that she’s right on both fronts.

“What’s he doing here?”

Papi walks into my apartment with sun kissed skin that glistens with sweat. His book bag half haphazardly hangs off of his shoulder as he eyes Xavier who is sitting at the counter with my laptop. I turn my attention from the stove towards him.

“First off, hello Papi, my day was good. Thanks for asking,” I said, propping my hand on my hip.

“Sorry Auntie,” he says, entering the kitchen to place a kiss on my cheek. “Now, why is he here?”

“Because he’s helping me fix my resume. Stop being rude and say hello,” I said, tapping his shoulder.

“Hi friend,” Papi said, causing Xavier to chuckle.

“What’s up lil man?” Xavier asked.

“You tell me. Why couldn’t you fix the resume on your laptop?” Papi asked him.

Xavier’s eyes darted to mine because he hadn’t expected to be put on the spot. Using my fingertips, I tip his chin so that his gaze is aligned with mine.

“You want to go to that fancy basketball camp right?” I asked.

We had found a camp to send him to that ran all day but wasn’t free. It’d cost two thousand dollars for seven weeks of camp. I told Mari I would be able to go half. We put down the five hundred deposit to hold his spot but would need the rest for him to start. 

“Yeah,” he said.

“Okay, so that costs money. I have to get the best paying job possible and can’t do that with a jacked up application. He’s helping me on my computer because it’s my resume. Got it?” I said.

“Got it. Help us get the bag and then go somewhere. Preferably to your house,” Papi said as he exited the kitchen. “I’m going to take a shower. I’ll be back for dinner.”

“It’ll be done in thirty,” I replied.

Papi gives Xavier one last glare before stomping Vans clad feet across the hall. We listen as he slams his door shut and I sigh while pinching the bridge of my nose.

“Sorry about that,” I said after a beat.

“Aye,” Xavier says, the gentleness in his tone causing me to look up. “He’s a kid who literally had to protect you from another man the other day. He is allowed to be cautious, in fact it’s normal, and healthy that he is.”

I take a few steps closer to the counter that separates us and drum my fingers on top. “I know. I wish he didn’t have to do that. He deserves to just be the kid we weren’t able to be. Feel like I stripped some of his innocence away.”

“Talk to him about it. Kids are more resilient than we think and open communication will help preserve the innocence that remains. You don’t want his knucklehead friends giving him advice on what relationships between men and women are supposed to look like,” he says.

I’m reaching for a braid to twirl when he leans across and intercepts. Using his finger to wrap the strand around. I side eye him but he is unmoved as he continues, “It won’t be as nerve wracking as you're making it out to be but if you want, I can send you one of my old lectures that touches on the subject, and gives some pointers to start from.”

“Thank you, I’d appreciate that. Now unhand me so I can go check on dinner,” I said, shifting my eyes to his finger once more.

He chuckles but releases my hair as effortlessly as he grabbed it before shifting his focus back to the laptop. We fall into a companionable silence, neither us feeling the need to fill the space with words. The soft clicks of the keyboard, the popping of grease, and the Quiet Storm from 107.5 serve as all the ambiance we need. Moving around each other in this space feels natural as a freshly showered Papi joins us. He sits right next to Xavier and eventually thaws enough to start asking questions about resumés as curiosity gets the best of him. When we eat, it’s in the living room while watching a Lakers game, and after Xavier takes it upon himself to wash the dishes as I get Papi settled across the hall. Now we’re standing out front as we wait for his Uber that’s ten minutes away. It’s too late to play with the trains and he has work waiting for him when he gets in.

“When you see me…what do you see?” I ask, causing him to look up from his phone. He’s one of those people that thinks watching the rideshare app screen will make the car come faster. Normally, I’d leave him to it but this question had been plaguing me all day. 

“Like in general?” he replied, angling his body towards me, instantly giving me his undivided attention.

“Yeah, like what’s your perception of me. I have been thinking about how I come off to other people. Wondering if I’m really as cold as I seem, as I feel, if I’m being honest. I know how I got this way but I’m not sure how to reverse it. So I’m hoping there’s more to the eye than the frost I emit. Some part of who I used to be,” I say in a rush.

I don’t know how he does it but when I’m around Xavier words spill out of my mouth like a waterfall. An overflow of thoughts that I now have a human soundboard for. 

“The frost is there but it is not all encompassing. I see a lot of things when I look at you. I see a wisdom forged in years that were meant for mistakes, I see fear of the unknown, I see the distrust you have in people which occurs when your only experience has been one betrayal after the other, I see the resilience you passed onto that young man upstairs, I see the strength from carrying your burden and others, I see generations of beauty on both sides, I see eyes that are curious, I see a mind sharper than any sword that probably belongs in somebody’s boardroom,I see sarcastic comments waiting to be unleashed,  I see…you Jamila. You,” he says, while looking me in the eyes.

There is something in his gaze that makes me believe him. That makes me visualize the puzzle of my personality that he has pieced together. His description is not far off, in fact, it’s pretty spot on. I don’t acknowledge that though, choosing to ask another question instead.

“You’ve only known me for a little over two months and you see all of that?” I asked.

“I’m good at reading people, especially those I find interesting, so yeah, I see all of that. What do you see when you look at me?” he questioned, flipping the tables.

“I see…compassion. The real kind, you don’t perform it, you are it. I see knowledge that I learn from. I see…,” I said, pausing to collect my thoughts. I’m not as eloquent as him so I know I need to get to the point fast. As I muse, he uses the opportunity to inch closer as if he doesn’t want to risk losing any of my words. 

“I see what second chances look like, I see someone who makes things happen for himself, I see the answers to all the questions I have and the patience to hear them all, I see sadness, raw to touch but it’s a scar not a wound. I see the need to find a purpose bigger than yourself.”

He nods his head before saying, “The duration of time doesn’t matter when you’re paying attention to what’s right in front of you. That’s what I have learned over these last few months and you have reminded me of that again.”

“That doesn’t freak you out?” I said.

“Nah, life is about meeting and connecting with as many people as possible. This is how we grow into who we’re meant to be. One conversation at a time,” he said, nudging his shoulder with mine.

“I don’t know about meeting a ton of people but I’m learning that conversations aren’t so terrible,” I say.

“I told your ass,” he chuckles as I look out towards the street. The neighborhood is still alive even at ten in the evening. It’s second nature for me to look around and take in who’s also outside. The same suspects as usual crowd the same corners and front steps. None of them pay us any mind. “What are you doing Saturday?” 

I turn my gaze back towards him. “After doing laundry and shopping with Mari, nothing why?”

“Cause I’ma be back this way. I have to run an errand downtown, want to keep me company?” he asks, his look hopeful. The rest of his body language is calm, with his shoulder relaxed and forearms resting on his lap. It’s those eyes that are alive with the possibility of my answer. 

“Sure as long as you feed me,” I say. For some reason I want to see the rest of him light up with the energy in his eyes and he does. Smiling big as he laughs at my sole stipulation. My eyes swing back towards the street having seen enough.

“Yes, I’ll feed you and you talk about me being greedy,” he says right as I spot a gray Toyota Camry turning onto the end of the block. “That’s me. Thanks for dinner.”

“No thank you for fixing my resume and my cover letters. I appreciate that and for making sure that I was okay,” I said, as we both stood up.

“It’s nothing-

“No, it’s something. People don’t move like you do most of the time,” I said with a shrug, my personal experience has proved otherwise so it was worth noting a positive one. “I might be asleep when you do but text me when you get in.”

“I got you. If I try to hug you, will you punch me?” he asks with a grin.

“Annoying ass,” I said.

“That wasn’t a no!” he snickers.

I roll my eyes again before wrapping him in a side hug. He squeezes me briefly, giving me a waft of his cologne. It’s five seconds at max but when we part he looks like he’s just won the lottery. He wears a silly smile as he walks backwards towards the car. “Goodnight, go inside.”

“I’m going,” I said, as I ease up the steps backwards. “Goodnight.”

We wave at each other one last time before I disappear inside.

I’m home.

Okay, good.

…I kind of want to bother you now that I know you’re still awake.

Go for it.

Within seconds my phone is flashing with an incoming Facetime call which I answer. Xavier is seated on a deep blue couch with a thick stack of papers in his lap, a red pen in hand, and a pair of black glasses resting on the edge of his nose. He’s dressed down in a Boyz N Tha Hood t-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts. His outfit is similar to mine because I’m also in a graphic tee but mine is oversized so it can double as a nightgown. 

“What has you still awake?” he asks.

“I can’t turn my brain off so I was reading trying to tire myself out,” I reply.

“That makes sense, what book is it?” he asks next.

I hold up my copy of Sarah J. Maas’ House of Earth and Blood. It has taken me the last month to get even halfway through but it’s a great story.

“Let me find out you into reading fairy sex the booktok girls be talking about,” he chuckles, causing me to laugh because I wasn’t expecting that to come out of his mouth.

“One, they are fae in this story and two, how do you even know what booktok is?” I question, as I plop the heavy book back down onto my bed.

“I try to keep up with my sister's interest but I had to draw the line once I found out that booktok is just a bunch of magical sex. There’s no way I’m discussing any of that shit with her young ass,” he says with a dramatic shudder as he jots down a note on what looks like a test as he flips the page. 

“That’s fair but it’s nice that you even tried. My brother talks at me, not to me,” I said, causing him to look up.

“Is he older or younger? And do you have more siblings?” he asks.

“Nah, it’s just us, and he is technically older by seven months but we’re the same age so no,” I said, which he snickers at.

“I take it y’all don’t get along,” he says.

“Not really, when things got bad here, his mother took back full custody of him, and they moved down to Virginia. He went on to continue having a normal childhood and I was stuck here. He doesn’t understand my choices and I don’t understand his. We live in two different worlds,” I said with a shrug.

“There’s always a chance to fix that if you want to, that is. My sister is my only sibling but I have a gang of cousins who are like siblings. We don’t always get along or understand each other but we try. Sometimes it’s easy and sometimes…,” he trails off but he doesn’t have to finish. I know where his thoughts are going and I want to keep him in the moment.

“Sometimes you have to accept the differences are too great to ignore. It’s what I have had to do but getting back to the subject at hand,  all I meant was, I know your sister appreciates you taking an interest in her life,” I said.

“I hope so man, I hope so. I know she regards me as a third parent but I really want to be her sibling too and not just another authority figure,” he said.

“Well it sounds like you’re doing a great job. Keep being consistent with her, that's important,” I said, as I sink further down into my bed. I lay my face on my pillow and prop the phone up against another pillow so that I don’t have to hold it. 

The sound of my movement draws his attention as he looks up at me. He pauses, as his eyes rove over my face. Even through a screen I can see thoughts swirling in them but I don’t ask for particulars.

“Getting tired?” he asks.

“A little but it’s okay, I’m still very much alert.”

He nods his head, giving me one last glance before returning to his work. I go back and forth between watching him work and getting lost in my thoughts. Eventually I fall asleep with the sound of his pen swishing across tests serving as much needed white noise.

[notafunkiller]

I’m going to start a lot of trouble by saying this and I don’t care: There is something with stringy blonde hair and dead eyes that has been the cause of this exhaustion over the past two years. And tbh, he won’t look well rested or healthy again until he finds the courage and the self respect to kick it to the curb.

First of all, I want to say: feel free to express your opinions openly here, as I value and respect freedom of speech.

[Of course, as long as there are no threats... which is not the case now]

Second of all, there is something that stans do in most fandoms: they infantilize their favorite celebrities and act as if they are perfect. They project their dreams and wishes onto them (and their relationships sometimes) and they think they have the right to decide and know details about their private life.

They think sending letters and endless dms = normal. It's not.

[When a celebrity needs to block you because you are attacking their partner, you have a problem.]

They view those people as puppets. As if they have the right to know everything about them and be upset if they make their own decisions. If they disagree with their decisions, they treat them like kids (aka they're in denial) or get mad and so on...

[From roles and haircuts to personal life and vacations.]

Also, they think fans (not stans) who hold them accountable for mistakes or point out the obvious things (like PR, image strategies, paps walks) are haters.

Thirdly, Sebastian is an adult, who makes his own decisions, but the stans act as if he's a kid.

I totally love what you said: he won't look well rested or healthy again until he finds the courage and the self respect...

I pointed out he's been tired constantly for the last 2 years, and some stans made it sound as if I was hating on him and AW because I am jealous of her and I have some kind of obsession/parasocial relationship with him, when it's, indeed, just concern. Because he is pushing himself basically non-stop.

Like, it's his choice to do PR... (it's my opinion which can be wrong, ofc) since he's always been so warm -and his love language is touch- in his previous relationships even if they were private... and there is something off about his body language in general. And AW is known as a beard in Hollywood, which I don't judge. People do what they want...

And I don't feel sorry for him. I'm just worried he focuses too much on achieving things and he doesn't take care of himself and rest enough.

He wanted to have more power over his projects aka to produce (producing = freedom and control), so he agreed to sign with CAA (Creative Artists Agency).

Because even though he's American too, not just Romanian (he moved there when he was 12), he's still seen as a foreigner by the film industry.

It means Sebastian believes he still needs to prove himself to get awards. And getting an award is even harder in this case because no matter how much PR you do, how many paps walks you have, how hard working you are, how great you are at what you do, how much passion you put into your work and your roles, you're still (seen as) an outsider. I think this is why he chose to be a part of so many biopics.

[Don't get me wrong, I think the roles he chose and chooses are challenging (grey, with personality) and send a message in general. He always gets out of his comfort zone, which is incredible. But I feel like he driven by the urge to prove himself]

This is why I think the Silver Bear meant and means the world to him. And I wish he knew an Oscar wouldn't say anything about him as an actor... about his talent. Many incredible actors do not have one, and we know it's about politics there.

I recommend a good article on the subject:

[adelaidedrubman]

NOW THAT’S WHAT I CALL MUSIC MONDAY 

tagged by absolutely no one and requested by fewer still, but in the spirit of kicking off the summer of hook, line, and sinker i am also taking the liberty of starting wip music monday whether anyone likes it or not. afflicting @v0idbuggy @poetikat @henbased @florbelles @unholymilf @socially-awkward-skeleton @direwombat @strangefable @derelictheretic @corvosattano @shallow-gravy @nuclearstorms @cassietrn @confidentandgood @afarcryfrommymain @vampireninjabunnies-blog @nightbloodbix @voidika @firstaidspray @megraen @roofgeese @trench-rot @strafethesesinners @blissfulalchemist @inafieldofdaisies @clicheantagonist, please feel free to drop a wip and a tune that vibes with it!

naturally i am sharing another hl&s playlist banger. pov you’re jestiny and this is what you desperately wish your ex-girlfriends’ internal monologue to be as they watch your current partner fail to bait a hook, but unfortunately probably only the last part applies:

i heard you had to drive him home after two umbrella drinks / i heard he’s got a prius ’cause he’s into being green / my buddy said he saw y’all eating that sushi stuff / baby that don’t sound like you, that don’t sound like love / sounds like it sucks he can’t even bait a hook / he can’t even skin a buck / he don’t know who jack daniels is / ain’t ever drove a truck / knows how to throw out a line / but not the kind in a field and stream book / no darling i ain’t even worried you’ll come running back / he can’t even bait a hook ... [outro] nah you’re the one that’s gonna be sorry when you’re headin’ to get tofu and he has a flat tire in his foreign car and don’t know how to change it and you’ll get your new gucci shoes wet and you’re mad and irritated, i’ve seen you irritated, i’m telling you, better him than me actually

epic blunder, this is how they actually see you and your new man. wip excerpt from hl&s c.3, tentatively titled “throw out a line” (warnings for jessie typical emotional regulation and references to stalking behavior, played for laughs but called for what it is in text):

“Ms. Woodhouse,” John held out a hand towards the brunette that was met with nothing but a scowl in return. 

He made an apologetic ‘ah’ noise and wiped the hand on his shirt, but Jessie knew it was not the fish guts Sherri was repulsed by.  “My apologies.” He bowed. “I haven’t yet had the privilege of patronizing your little store.” Jessie smiled. Patronizing was right. And Sherri deserved it. “It’s so difficult when I have my own boat ramp right in the backyard to remember to get out there to support the small business owners in the community.”  “Support?” Skylar cut in, scowling even harder than Sherri did. “When have you ever supported any business around here? You call trying to shut everyone down and take their property from ’em support?”  Huh. That’s weird  — Skylar seemed to have history with this guy. And it was bad enough he was a lawyer at all, did she fuck up and start pretending to date a fucking foreclosure attorney or something?  John waved the accusation off. “Please, I hate discussing business matters during my recreation time.” He reached into his back pocket to take out his wallet, pulling another hundred dollar bill from it. “I would love to support Can of Worms now.”  John turned to Sherri, gauchely waving the bill in front of her. “I’m afraid my lovely date and I have fished through all of our bait. But it seems you have plenty left. He nodded towards the unopened can at Sherri’s feet. “I’d like to purchase it.”  Sherri met him with a dead-eyed stare. “Store’s closed.”  John turned, looking across the water at the Can of Worms storefront. “Your hours say open until 9.”  “Well, I’m not on the clock.”  “Oh, don’t be unreasonable. I’m paying well above market rate for something I could just waste time going over and buying from you, for much cheaper, in the store.”  “No, you couldn’t,” Skylar said. “Store’s closed.”  He pointed behind him. “I see it open.”  “Store’s always closed to you.” Jestiny gave up on pretending not to notice the conversation, setting aside her beer to slam her hands down on the side of the boat. “Well, sell it to fuckin’ me, then!”  “God, Jessie,” Sherri groaned, leaning down to hold her head in her hands. “Can’t you just fucking leave us alone? Following us, harassing us while we’re trying to fish? We broke up with you. We don’t want you around.”  “Shit’s sad,” Skylar agreed. “Just stop. Don’t make us get a fuckin’ restraining order or something.”  Jestiny kicked the side of the boat, hard. “They’re called Orders of Protection, in fucking Montana!”  “You learn that from your slimebag lawyer boyfriend?” Skylar asked. Jessie frowned. That was hitting below the belt, she thought. “And did he learn it from law school, or ’cause half the fucking County wants to take one out on his creepy ass?” Sherri brought a hand over her mouth to stifle her laugh at Skylar’s joke. “They really are perfect for each other, huh?” she giggled against Skylar’s shoulder, setting her chin atop it and looking up at her adoringly.  Jessie felt flames crawl up in her belly. Of all the infuriating insults.  “Yeah, we fucking are! I finally have someone who can keep up with me behind the rod and on an intellectual fuckin’ level!” she forced herself to flash an adoring smile of her own at the man she shouted over. “And he’s got an actual sense of humor! Just look at his outfit.”  John turned to shoot Jessie a glare.  “Yeah,” Skylar laughed, turning to nudge the flyaway hairs clinging to Sherri’s dewy brown skin away with the sun speckled tip of her nose so that she could finally whisper her teasing directly into the brunette’s ear. “Looks like you and me were the only ones that didn’t think to come dressed for the circus.” 

“I fucking heard that!” 

[karizard-ao3]

My reactions to Evangelion episode 17: Fourth Child

I regret ever doubting Misato. It was not her who was sus, it was NERV.

Actually, I did wonder if the Angel was trying to communicate with him.

The need for "heart" to operate the Evas is stirring some things in my head.

Toji is a good brother.

ope, my kid is home. I'll save this as a draft and try to resume later.

Okay, it's later. My kid is asleep and I'm squeezing in an episode before I also go to bed. I'm just going to start from the beginning. I think I could probably actually watch this with him because the content doesn't seem too mature for him, however he would not be able to restrain himself from talking through the thing and I would annoy him by pausing the show if I have long notes to make, so he'll just have to wait to see if I feel I must do a second watch after the first one.

I like that Misato is protecting Shinji from this interrogation.

The Angels are EVOLVING?

So I've been thinking about how Adam appeared to be a fetus in a suitcase when Kaji brought him to Gendo and how he was called the first Angel when Kaji showed him to Misato fully grown, so I wonder if instead of dying they just do a little Steven Universe thing and revert back to an embryo? Or actually maybe comparing them to a phoenix is more apt. Also, I did find it weird when the lava Angel pupae looked so similar to fetus Adam but I also take it for granted that all embryos/ early stage fetuses look the same no matter what species they are, so I didn't think too deeply about it. That should have been my first clue that Adam was an Angel and not a person.

What is the S2 drive?

So the base or whatever vanished. It disappeared into the Dirac Sea. Was it the S2 drive and human error that caused this vaporization of sorts or was it an Angel attack?

The dummy plug is very interesting to me. The Eva needs to feel like there is a pilot to sync with. Is it because the implanted personalities long to have a soul again? Or am I just thinking weird things because I'm tired? lol

Is that actually Rei in the tube? I guess it is.

Ritsuko, why so creepy?

Asuka being mean again. Oh, young lady.

Does class rep like Toji??

Rei's got medication she takes.

Rei's reaction to Shinji cleaning up after her was so cute.

She's never said thank you before?

Here we go with some Garden of Eden talk. Is Tokyo-3 the Eden? Maybe it's a space station for when they destroy the Earth.

The Marduk Institute doesn't exist? And Shinji's school seems to be involved. Maybe all the kids there potential pilots.

"But I'm not a girl" Shinji, I love you.

Kaji is a watermelon farmer.

I wonder what traits they select for when choosing pilots.

Kensuke is so nosy,

The birth rate has been falling. Hmmm.

She's offering to make you a lunch, dumbass.

I'm changing Asuka's name to Karen.

In Conclusion

I feel like things are starting to come together but I'm still no closer to figuring out exactly what the secrets here are. Soon, soon.

Toji being the Fourth Children is tugging on my brain because I feel like if I could figure out what about him makes him the candidate they've been looking for then I would have a much better idea of what's going on with the Evas. I had thought there may be some kind of psychic element to this but I haven't seen any signs that they are being evaluated for psychic skills. It seems the "heart" is the most important part, but what determines that there is enough heart? All the pilots are so different, except for that they all do have some kind of trauma. Is that the trick? I don't seem to recall any mention of Toji's parents being killed but he just mentioned that there's no one at home to make a lunchbox for him anymore, so maybe he has lost them. Shinji lost his mother and his dad's a deadbeat, Asuka mentioned she has no one left to care about (if I remember right), and Rei is also alone from what I can tell and may have lost her loved ones horrifically. We know she has no one to make her feel connected to the world with all the suicidal sounding stuff she was saying that upset Shinji. Maybe she was the one who said she had no one left? Could have been both girls. So, I guess now I'm wondering if Toji's sister has died. Anyway, I guess I'll just have to wait and see.

I have a feeling the dummy plug is going to be a disaster.

That's about all I'm coming up with right now. I have to get to bed or I will regret it in the morning and all day tomorrow, so I will try to watch another episode tomorrow night, but maybe earlier in the evening so I can fit in a couple. We'll see. It all depends on a certain dependent of mine and how fast he goes to bed.

[outofangband]

@camille-lachenille sent this ask about Maedhros post Angband and I wanted to address it in two parts!

This first one deals with the possibility of brain damage post Angband

cw: aftermath of torture, discussion of brain damage, brief mentions of ableism (both in universe and out)

Angband World Building and Aftermath of Captivity Masterlist

I hc Maedhros really struggling with speech and communication in the years following his rescue, and he has to basically relearn how to speak properly. Even centuries later, it still takes him a lot of energy to make complex and long sentences, or understand a long speech, and that’s why he’s so often silent or just barks orders to his troops without much ceremony. And he tends to muddle the words when he’s tired or very emotional, or forget altogether how to speak Sindarin/Taliska/Khuzdul, and he can only speak Quenya, so his land is the only beside Gondolin where Quenya is still spoken on a semi-regular basis despite the ban. Before important events he will prepare what to say as to reduce the chances of getting stuck on his words. He also has "cheat cards" in his pocket with prewritten sentences in Sindarin for emergencies.

He also has to relearn how to read and his writing is awful because he has nerve damage so he struggles with fine mobility tasks. For official papers, he has Maglor write for him so it’s readable.

He gets better until the Nirnareth but the trauma of losing both the battle and his dearest friend makes him regress in his speech abilities.

First I should say I really like your headcanons! I think way way too much about the profound effect of Angband on the body, mind and soul, both generally and for certain characters in particular, Maedhros being one of them!

And Angband does have a profound effect. 

with regards to brain damage, first I should note that while I have some brain damage myself though obviously from considerably less severe circumstances than Maedhros’s and while I have done my research, I am by no means an expert

Though there is no canon evidence for Maedhros suffering brain damage there is absolutely a veritable wealth of circumstances that could have caused it at least for a human during his time in Angband; hypoxia/lack of oxygen to the brain, malnutrition and poisoning, actual physical damage from directed violence, etc

As I’ve talked about in many places (I think here is one of the more recent ones) we must assume at least some intervention and difference to human anatomy for Maedhros whether that comes from differing elven physiology or intervention by Morgoth to keep him alive or as I believe, likely both. 

That being said the conditions of Angband are devastating and effect the bodies, minds and souls of elves (and humans) in ways that rarely occur on the outside

One thing that’s fun about The Silmarillion is that it a, takes place over a long period of time and b, there’s a lot of ambiguity in the text in places. Maedhros does conceivably have longer to recover physically and emotionally 

Though the few bits of dialogue we have for Maedhros during the time between his rescue and the Nirnaeth do not seem to show him struggling with speech It is notable too that while he seems to have much skill as a diplomat, a lot of his recorded communication takes places through letters he could have spent much, much longer drafting, revising and consulting on rather than in face to face discussions where significant difficulties in communicating would have been harder to deal with. 

I like the idea of him having cards to consult with! I think that makes a lot of sense!

I do think Maedhros had specific issues with speech and communication. Some I think were due to physical damage and some I think were due to psychological. I know I’ve said almost exactly this probably more than once but I really cannot understate how profoundly damaging it is to be in an environment where your ability to speak, advocate, communicate and express yourself is just completely oppressed and stolen. I do headcanon that Angband severely limits and in some places/circumstances outright bans many elven languages (It can’t completely because some communication between especially newer prisoners learning the tongues of Angband is necessary during labor and such but that’s other posts...) Anyways Maedhros was in an environment where he was actively punished for speaking up, for using his own languages, for daring to act in any way that suggested that his words have meaning. 

This does not lift just because he is outside of its walls. 

That’s also absolutely not to say that brain damage couldn’t be a confounding factor as well. The combination of physical and psychological factors complicate his recovery in many ways especially in the beginning where these sorts of injuries were almost unheard of among the returned Noldor

(I should also note that even if it’s not fully supported by canon, it’s still a good and interesting headcanon/perspective and I share much of it!! unfortunately while Tolkien did seem to have a compassionate understanding of many aspects of trauma, the depiction in The Wanderings has always struck me as especially profound, due to when he was writing and such, it’s not surprising that many aspects of disability might have been overlooked or dismissed. It’s always worth considering these aspects, I think)

I also personally headcanon that writing especially took him decades to relearn properly. Even alongside brain damage, having to write with a completely unfamiliar hand while likely dealing with chronic pain and other symptoms! Due to my own neuro issues I have enough issues writing with my dominant hand! I can’t imagine having to relearn with the other. 

Finally, it makes sense both medically and in universe that Maedhros experiences a regression in his symptoms post Nírnaeth. The body-mind-soul connection is so strong for elves and symptom regression following severe physical or psychological trauma can absolutely happen.

Also on a similar note I headcanon that Húrin has severe neurological damage from Angband too

Anyways I hope this is an ok reply! As I said I also get super fixated on the effects of Angband on the body, mind, and soul of elves and humans

[metrovaliz]

Hello everyone, I haven't been here for a long time, I just don't know where else to tell everything that happened to me I mentioned in some posts that I have a girlfriend, or rather I was In general, I recently turned 18 and I went to my girlfriend's city, we had a good time , then I had to take the train home and everything seemed to be fine until they started ignoring me, disappearing at work , and then she tells me that she wants to take a break from social networks , I'm waiting for her return, in principle, I understand that what- it's not like that, but I'm not as worried as I was later. her friend writes to me, merges a lot of messages, it turns out that she had some kind of experiences and she does not know what to do with the relationship, I hear about it all for the first time as a result, I am very upset I was hysterical because of all this, I had restless dreams about her where she also does not answer me what happened in the end, the next day she appears and tells me that she saw me as a friend all this time and I'm like, why didn't they tell me about this before Like I'll get over it, I was rather sad because of the uncertainty and silence in which I was kept . In the end, we remained friends with the friend who leaked the messages, she decided to stop communicating, because of the drain and, in principle, he was obsessed with her and did not understand the concept of love only obsession and hated me because of jealousy, he also told her to die jokingly and when in response she said something like that, he said that he would kill himself in the end because of her desire to stop communicating with him, he swallowed a lot of pills trying to take his own life, as a result, he vomited them up And she decided not to end her communication with him because he had changed Every day it's so fucked up Basically, when I went to see her, I didn't feel any pleasure. As a result, I just want to go to a therapist. I did not go to a psychologist or a psychiatrist, because I already went to a psychiatrist and I was canceled a course of antidepressants because I drank them for a year But depression has not completely left me, I just feel like I usually have a neutral mood, like I can still feel negative emotions, but not positive ones. Honestly, I'm just tired. Tired of constantly plowing and not getting any praise in the form of positive emotions, tired of failures in my personal life Now, in principle, it is difficult for me to perceive my otp after parting, i think look at my otp "love seems to exist only in fictional universes" or "is it for sure that my otp will not part as well?" Because of this, it is more difficult to draw pictures And in principle, I do not know what to live for, I have not received any reward for my efforts as emotions for many years, it also seems pointless to draw pictures I just want to be happy, at least to drown out the bad moments in my life with positive emotions that I don't have. I don't even hope that I'll ever meet a soulmate anymore. I don't even know how to react to this whole situation with a girl and her friend. I did everything according to the method that was advised to me in a mental hospital, but a year later I still can't get out of depression and the funny thing is that I have a mild but lingering depression, I can't imagine how difficult it is for people with severe depression, if I'm not so bad, but it's still hard for me In fact, relationships often end in breakups, these are my fifth in a row, and in principle it would be strange if the relationship started at my age of 17 and lasted until the end of my life, like this is a very unlikely outcome of events, in fact, my whole life is still ahead, but I have not felt any pleasure from life for a long time and the problem is that my depression was caused by loneliness, in principle, there was a series of very bad events in my life that led to this And in fact, I remained that hunted outcast Unfortunately, while I was being held in silence, I received letters with death wishes from a "fan" who had been friendly to me before

[izzyeffinhands]

The only Facebook group I feel safe in as an Izzy Hands stan is Our Flag Means Daddy.

Even though I am apart of the two main groups as well, i.e. Our Flag Means Deathposting, Our Flag Means Fans, I do NOT feel SAFE. I see the wildest and hottest fucking takes in these groups and they piss me off. Are you even watching the same show? I’m also sick and tired of people calling Izzy a villain when he clearly is not. Also there are many that don’t recognize he’s gay, even after season 2. If you voice you’re upset and betrayed? You get attacked. I was again last night.

I guess I’m a proud Izzy “apologist”, but it fucking baffles me how fans just give Ed a pass on all the brutal things he did. Oh but the love story—- NO. Recognize you’re an Ed apologist as well. I like both Ed and Izzy, but I recognize the horrifying things Ed did.

The day of the finale, I posted my thoughts on various social media. I got attacked. I got messages even on tumblr from anon cowards who I imagine followed through Twatter. I was called the t slur. That I was stupid, fat, all sorts of things.

It’s because I said I’ll never trust David Jenkins again. Now, do I have my own thoughts as to whether parts of the finale are a dream state/gravy basket that Stede himself is in? Absolutely. But let’s dive into why I was especially hurt.

First off. I am disabled. For those who know me, I’ve also had two leg surgeries and my injury has ruined my life. So seeing Izzy with a false leg, as a disabled character, still being badass? It felt good. It boosted my confidence for me to keep going. I had so much metal in my leg it caused pain that left me bedridden and using a wheelchair and cane. Many a time I wish they’d chopped my leg off.

I see a lot of myself in Izzy. I swear, he has the traits of an Aries with his anger and intense emotions. This man feels deeply for those who cares for, even though at first this seemed to just be Edward. Despite the hardened shell, he’s a romantic at heart. I’m very much the same.

That hardened shell is also a form of masking to me. In my opinion, and in my own headcanon for this roleplaying blog, Israel is neurodivergent and suffered sexual assault on ships when he was young. It’s part of the reason he has bowel issues. He had to force himself to put on that rough motherfucker mask in order to protect himself. I was bullied mercilessly in school. When I started middle school, I decided to align myself with the “bad kids” as a form of protection. Guess what? Part of myself was masking I was a bad ass, part of myself became the badass I was masking to be after years of torture.

Also. I am transmasculine. I’m pre-HRT. But to me, Izzy is very transmasc coded. This was even confirmed by Con himself when a transmasc fan at Supercon brought the conversation up. I’d just like to say again how much I adore him for supporting the trans community, particularly transmascs who often are glanced over.

Then David Jenkins, a straight man, that swore he wouldn’t fall into the kill your gays trope did exactly that. So let’s exclude here the thought that this is possibly a dream state, or even that he might be resurrected by Buttons as a zombie or ghost which I fucking hope not. We’re talking about my initial feelings. Now it felt like they were setting him up to be killed but I said oh no Jenkins wouldn’t do that to us. He promised he wouldn’t.

Guess what?! He fucking did. Not only that, he murdered off the disabled, gay, transmasc coded character after giving him the most beautiful character arc of any character on the show. You can have a gay pirate rom com, you can understand some characters can get hurt, but killing someone as a means to advance plot? Fuck you. Also, the fact that Izzy apologized to his ABUSER?! As if the victim blaming and shaming wasn’t enough for Izzy Hands, which I see plenty of still, that’s fucked up on so many levels.

So to me I watched a version of myself be murdered. It hit me in the hardest way imaginable. I cried for days. I’ve never been so attached to a character in my 38 years of existence. I’m sick and tired of people saying they like his redemption arc. Izzy never needed redemption. He just needed one, single, person to tell him that he was loved and cared about.

So voicing that I felt betrayed and that I no longer trust Jenkins got me nothing but vitriol. Then toward the end of the day, he made a tweet about how there’s no version of the show without Izzy and had the comments turned off. He knows what he did. And then in the FB groups, if you dared say you were upset that day, requoted Jenkins, you’re a horrible person? Right. I didn’t start attacking the writers. I just said I’m betrayed and I can’t trust what I thought was my comfort show. Because of that, I got hate.

As much as I’d like to believe Izzy will return, the interviews David has done post season 2 talking about his character give me little hope. It’s like he just stabbed every fan in the back. Id like to think the rushed finale is really a dream sequence or gravy basket deal. Id like to think that Izzy will come back thanks to Buttons. But now I just don’t trust David Jenkins.

And if you dare voice this opinion anywhere but Our Flag Means Daddy and Twatter, you get attacked. So here goes. Thanks for my TED talk.

[asksam]

MEET SAM EVANS !!

auditioning with the song: brutal, olivia rodrigo

And I'm so tired that I might, quit my job, start a new life. And they'd all be so disappointed, 'cause who am I, if not exploited?

BIOGRAPHY & HEADCANONS

wait, is that SAM EVANS? they kinda look a lot like NICHOLAS GALITZINE, don’t they? i heard the TWENTY ONE year old is known as THE CROWD PLEASER around mckinley. it seems like they auditioned to be in DULY NOTED which is so lame? people at campus have said they’re CHARMING, but don’t be fooled since they’re also -STUBBORN. rumor has it, you can find them at SYNCHRONIZED SWIMMING PRACTICE, PHOTOGRAPHY CLUB, FIGHT CLUB, DIGITAL MEDIA CLUB OR AT A GOD SQUAD MEETING when they aren’t belting show tunes. their entire vibe revolves around RED SOLO CUPS AMONG FRIENDS, LONG NIGHTS IN TRUCK BEDS STARGAZING, DOLLA DOLLA BILLS Y'ALL but no one pays attention to that here in ohio.

LIST ABOUT 3+ HEADCANONS ABOUT YOUR CHOSEN CHARACTER!

Sam has a full ride scholarship thanks to synchronized swimming. So while he’s going to school because of that, Sam’s real passion is his impressions. He’s always wanted to be a voice actor and he actually does have a decent amount of followers on TikTok. Because they’re good or because he posts a lot of cosplay thirst traps is anyone’s guess.

He was pretty much homeless during his senior year of high school after his father lost his job. They lived out of motels and sometimes their car when they couldn’t afford a room. It took a while for them to get back on their feet, but Sam’s job at the local DQ strip club helped out a lot.

He’s very upfront on his TikTok about who he is and his past because it might help someone out there. Whether it’s about his dyslexia, stripping, sexuality (pansexual) or just about struggling with his faith, Sam likes to shine bright, but still keep it real.

Sam does a lot of volunteer work on his off time, he loves helping out at the local animal and homeless shelters.

He's not a stripper anymore, thanks to the world wide web, he has an OF that's actually pretty lucrative. He sends most of the money back home still to provide for his siblings, his parents still think he works at DQ.

MY PERSONALITY IS LIKE A RADIOACTIVE ASTEROID, SPEND TOO MUCH TIME WITH IT AND IT COULD KILL YOU.

BASICS OF SAM:

full name: samuel andrew evans. pronouns: he/him. gender: cismale. nicknames: sam, sammy, white chocolate, captain trouty, evans, trouty mouth. hometown: knoxville, tennessee. birthday (zodiac) & age: may 21st (GEMINI) / twenty-one years old. relationship status: single. sexuality: pansexual. religion: christian. occupation: student at mckinley arts college, "accountant". residence: small house off campus with roommates. sports/clubs: synchronized swimming, photography club, fight club, digital media club, and god squad. glee club: part of duly noted. languages: english, ASL, na'vi, very poor spanish. major: digital media. minor: visual communications.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE:

faceclaim: nicholas galitzine. height:  6'0". build:  athletic. eyes:  hazel. hair:  blonde (natural, but he does a lot of upkeep because of the chlorine water). piercings: he has his nipples, tongue and ears pierced (just like one of his faves teddy altman, but this version) (sidenote: he takes them all out when he's in the pool). tattoos:  ’You can’t take the sky from me.’ across his left forearm, he has 'i'm fine' on his right arm above his inner elbow, he's starting a sleeve of comic panels on his right that's a mix of all comics not just marvel & dc, he has a few manga panels on his left leg from various artists including jujutsu kaisen and attack on titan. (sidenote: sam uses the best waterproof tattoo concealer money can buy to keep them covered for competitions). other distinguishing features:  birthmark above his upper right lip and on the right and left sides of his chin. style: sam has three looks: homeless man, 12 year old boy & a hooker.

WANTED CONNECTIONS:

workout buddy: someone sam can spot for/spot for him at the gym, or even just watch his swim routines and critique.

fellow "accountant": either they can just know of each other and help each other out with tips and tricks of the trade or they can create content with each other.

BFFS/platonic soulmates: they know everything sam doesn't talk about on his social media and they get the real bts content of his life.

friends with benefits: this will probably be a dumpster fire of feels because sam absolutely will catch feelings for the other so to quote sam's audition song "i want it to be, like, messy".

study buddy or tutor: sam needs some extra help and needs someone to help study with or your character is tutoring him!

roommate: sam is a junior and lives off campus in a small house with two roommates !!

rival: either in fight club or maybe one of the other clubs, either way sam totally complains about you to his followers.

D&D: you're a part of sam's party, your characters are rivals, love interests, or friends.

I'm honestly down for any connections for my boy so you can absolute DM me on here or on discord !! LET'S PLOT !!

AND HERE'S MORE ON OUR FAVORITE CROWD PLEASURE THAT I DIDN'T WANT TO ADD ON THIS ALREADY LONG POST.

[ofpineapplesanddawns]

Arthur has been a bartender for a long time. He is used to being a good listener; it's part of the job. But no one prepared him for having to so for his two boyfriends who are terrible at communicating and take everything personally. And okay, maybe he shouldn't have hinted to Crowley about Aziraphale's background? But he asked so nicely!

Arthur, my boy, I am so sorry.

Warning: arguments, references to a fight (both of Crowley and Aziraphale are at fault for this because they're idiots)

On with the fic!

--

Arthur had known from the moment that he had accidentally revealed a bit of Aziraphale's past that it would come back to bite him. There would be problems, especially considering that Crowley was always asking questions and was too curious for his own good.

He obviously would dig into this, finding all the bread crumbs, and realize the truth about their other romantic partner.

He would find out that Aziraphale wasn't always an android, that he had once been a real human over fifty years ago.

Of course, Crowley came storming in, confronting Aziraphale about this, and the aftermath of that had been... bad. Very bad. Aziraphale had locked himself away in his office, the club was closed for a few days due to the damages caused by the fighting, and Crowley was rightfully angry.

And Arthur had gotten his own fair share of anger directed at him from Aziraphale, and rightfully so, he knew he shouldn't have said anything, but he honestly hadn't known! He had thought Aziraphale had finally told Crowley the truth, considering how opened he had been lately with the cyborg!

No one could blame Arthur for being left out of the damn loop.

Still, he was tired of this new behavior from them. Aziraphale losing himself to his books and work, Crowley simmering and wallowing in his own anger and angst.

Frankly, Arthur had finally reached his breaking point and he forced the two of them to come to his bar for a discussion.

He set down two drinks in front of them after they arrived, both sitting with a bar stool between them, neither looking the other in the eye. Arthur didn't speak as he set the drinks on the counter, instead watching his boyfriends.

Aziraphale looked exhausted, for an android, his LEDs were dimmer, his perfectly posture a bit less perfect, and even his immaculate hair was a little off. His tentacles were out, and while not thrashing about as they had been days ago, there was still a clear tension in them, a need to strike.

Crowley looked like a mess, his clothes were clearly just things he threw on, his hair a mess. His shades were off and he had dark circles under his eyes, he also seemed to have forgotten to shave for the past few days.

They both were glaring at the drinks, it was rather interesting watching them each lift them up and take long drinks at the same time. Arthur had to wonder if they even noticed the similar actions the other did.

"Right, gentlemen." Arthur spoke, folding his hands on the counter top. "We need to have a discussion."

"Don't wanna." Crowley grumbled.

"Too bad, it needs to be spoken about." Arthur frowned and Crowley bowed his head, looking a bit ashamed. "Right. Now, I understand that I made the mistake of accidentally starting this whole downfall in our relationship. I'll be honest, I had no idea that you had yet to explain to Crowley your past, Aziraphale."

"He had no right to know." Aziraphale growled. "At least... not right now."

"But he would have to learn of it at some point. It's not something you can just hide from him forever."

"His life span is shorter than ours, he would never have to know."

"He," Crowley snipped, "is right fuckin' here, thank you very much." He yelped when he was pushed at by the clawed end of one of the metal appendages.

Arthur sighed loudly, one of his fingers loudly tapping at the counter. "Crowley, Aziraphale. Stop. I want to talk about your behavior from the other day. Clearly, it was a mistake to bring up that little fact. I should have known better, considering your overly curious nature, Crowley. It was only natural you'd want to know what I meant, and in doing so, we broke Aziraphale's trust."

Aziraphale slammed a hand down on the counter. "You're damn right you did! Arthur, you know I don't like talking about my former humanity! I wasn't ready for Crowley to know about the original Aziraphale!"

"But I would have learned at some point!" Crowley snapped. "I would have eventually dug through the files!"

"You had no right to do that!"

"Me wanting to is the whole reason I'm even here in the first place!"

"And at this point, do you even want to be here anymore!?"

"Probably not, with how you tried to throw me across the room!"

"I only did that because you threw something at-!"

There was a loud shattering down and the two turned, surprised to find that Arthur had smashed a glass in his hand. He hadn't even realized he grabbed one in his growing anger at their arguing. He looked at his hand, where the synthetic skin had torn and he watched as a black, metallic hand gently took his own.

"Shit, shit, shit." Crowley hissed under his breath, looking at the damage. "Arthur, I'm so sorry, I..."

"It's alright." Arthur tried to smile, wincing as the tiny, sharp tips of a claw carefully extracted a shard of glass from the palm of his hand.

"No, it's not alright." Aziraphale sighed. "We keep getting off track."

"Yes, clearly." Arthur sighed, letting them try to clean the glass from his hand. "But I brought you two here to try and figure out how to fix this. I am very happy with you two being in my lives as you are, and I know you two care about one another, despite how often you try to deny it. Do not think for a second that I haven't heard the little words of affection between you two when you think I'm not listening."

They both looked rather embarrassed about that, but Arthur continued on. "You both are in the right for your feelings over the matter at hand, but you're both in the wrong as well. If you had only just talked instead of turning it into such a brash display as you had done, you both wouldn't be suffocating from your own misery."

He pulled his hand back, flexing his fingers. "I have been a bartender for nearly ninety years at this point, I have listened to many couples argue over ridiculous and serious matters in that time. I have seen my fair share of fights, and have done my best to help with kind words and a listening ear. However, I have never had to been in the position of watching it happen between the two men that I love.

And I would really like to not continue seeing that. You two love one another, I know you do. And I only ask that you talk about this. Aziraphale, there is nothing wrong with talking to Crowley about your past, you both suffered a tragic event that led to you being less human than you were before, he understands. And Crowley, Aziraphale was in the right of not talking about it because he wasn't ready, you didn't have to take such offense to him hiding that from you."

Aziraphale's extra arms lowered themselves, his shoulders sagging as he nodded. Crowley sighed, frowning as he toyed with the sleeves of his hoodie.

"You're right." The redhead spoke. "Fuck, you're always right. We're both geniuses, but you're the one with the functioning brain cells outta the three of us. We both... we both overreacted, badly."

"Clearly." Arthur glanced at the gash that was still in the ceiling.

"It's not a topic I like talking about." Aziraphale muttered.

"I know, but if you care about Crowley as much as I know you do, then he has the right to know."

The two men before Arthur looked at one another and Crowley swallowed. "We're gonna have to discuss this like adults."

"I suppose we do." Aziraphale nodded. "I can't promise I won't be emotional."

"I already know that you are, it's fine."

"Shall we take this to my office?"

"I'd... I'd rather do it out here, with Arthur, if ya don't mind."

Aziraphale considered this, nodded one more, and turned back to Arthur. "Let's get you patched up first, then we'll talk about this, the correct way."

Arthur smiled. "I'll get the repair kit then, gentlemen."

--

Crowley doesn't blame Arthur for slipping up, he doesn't think Arthur deserves to be at fault, even though the bartender feels guilty about it. Aziraphale feels betrayed, but that's understandable, it's a very dangerous secret, he doesn't want anyone to know who he used to be.

[simonalkenmayer]

This is a general rant about antisemitism, because I am annoyed. It contains larger ideas about how Christianity has evolved to see antisemitism as a necessary thing that excuses any action they take.

Back when Obama was deciding to run for office, I got into a heated debate with an old white man at a bar. He asked me if I thought that Hillary would get the party nomination over Obama, since he was a newbie and younger. I said no, Hillary won’t get it. He was stunned. He demanded to know how, in this racist country, I could say that the woman wouldn’t get to run for President before the black man. He was convinced racism in this country was such that it would be impossible to expect a black candidate.

My reply was simple: “misogyny has no color preference.” Meaning men of all colors can oppress women, and do. And sure enough, Obama got the nomination as a new senator, beating out Hillary, despite her tremendous experience.

Kanye West is an antisemite and his words are harmful both to the Jewish community, and his own. Oppression of any kind harms everyone, especially other oppressed or underserved groups, but this kind of bigotry doesn’t seem to have a preference, eh?

I’m so so so tired of this. Humanity has been scapegoating the same people for literally thousands of years, no matter what they do—succeed in spite of or fail utterly. They’re blamed if things go wrong, blamed if things aren’t ideal. But it makes a kind of sense, in that Christianity—-as a system of ideas—is oppositional to all faiths. It has the doctrine of superiority built in. And in Judaism, it finds both its early foundations and yet also is denied by it. The modern Protestant conservative Christian is militant and narcissistic, and they find the opposition almost like a personal attack. To them, they cannot be completely Christian as long as other faiths that are older, and therefore have more legitimacy than their faith, contradict their savior and flourish beneath their noses. Their very existence is an aggravation to that memeplex.

Here I go again, but no, I really want to address this:

When you run electricity over a circuit, the energy takes the shape of the wire layout, doesn’t it? The water follows the riverbed, doesn’t it? Is the path the thing we walk or the thing we leave behind?

Ideas mimic the structures they inhabit. They mimic cell structure. They are replicators, just like DNA, viruses, bacteria. Most closely, they mimic bacteria—breeding through conjugation—borrowing advantageous pieces or discarding pieces that cause conflict in the survival landscape of people’s minds, with all its cognitive flaws intact. What I’m saying is ideas replicate identically to the biological system that makes them, and the mind can either allow or discard them in part or in whole.

For example: let’s say you are an ancient Roman. You know nothing of scientific methods. You have murky ideas about how the universe functions. Any knowledge that comes to you must do two things only to survive—it must be beneficial to you and it must seem sensible. That benefit can be a skill that helps with a difficulty, or a reinforcement of your ego, or a new way to control people, etc. that idea, to live in your head, must be seen as necessary. But let’s say you like one aspect of the idea, but not other aspects. Let’s say it’s a religion that asks you to deny yourself your favorite snack. That won’t do. You won’t accept it. Unless you can find a way to alter the memeplex to fit your own head. Well maybe the book says it’s fine as long as your favorite snack is dietarily necessary. Even better if you can tweak some translation to make it say that. This is how ideas evolve like genes, as they move through groups. They lose or acquire traits as they are spread—like bacteria.

Stay with me, I’m making connections.

A kind of informational feedback loop forms as the individual sculpts the idea and then the idea sculpts the culture. People who are hateful will taint the original memeplex with ideas that benefit them personally. The memeplex of Christianity has evolved over time to incorporate racism, violence, sexism, viciousness. It has been given to cultures that seek superiority, and those cultures have combed that book for any tiny trace that supports their belief. Those cultures work at the words again and again to evolve them too, so it can further change shape in the modern brain. But then again, the ideas sculpt the culture too. In this way man and his thoughts change at the same rate.

The abrahamic religions challenge the validity of Christianity, simply by existing—if one foundational system can evolve in three separate trajectories and each contain millions of believers…

Then Christianity can’t be inviolate.

So it makes complete sense that at every turn, to support personal bigotry, the faith as a whole, must embrace an active rejection and militant destruction of any idea that might supplant it. Christianity can only survive by killing off Judaism and Islam. It will put up with Orthodoxy, but only until it gets rid of everything that directly contradicts it.

Over time, the whole faith shifts, until it’s so tainted and diluted by individual bigotry, it no longer resembles the original memeplex. It’s now a very lethal and carcinogenic bacterial infection, resistant to cleansing ideas like compassion and empathy (which require work). It is even resistant to antibiotics like Jesus saying “let he who is without sin cast the first stone”. It has borrowed so many interpretations that support villainy, it has transformed into that.

And it did all that before it ever met guns, or bombs, or Nazis.

Someone with a long view of history could say (is saying) that what we are seeing is Christianity as a whole, waging a memetic and therefore physical war against the faiths that threaten it most, with the humans who believe it as little mindless bigot drones, wandering through their ignorant lives as sculptors and tools in a giant machine of egotistical masturbation.

It’s disgusting and I hate everything about it.

[celepeace]

Just ruminations on personal gender identity and my feelings of alienation in the greater transgender community

I do see purposefully inclusive posts sometimes which have a very nice sentiment but as a genderqueer transmasc I genuinely feel like the odd one out in basically every trans community I've ever been a part of. As of right now I'm not planning on and I don't really feel the need to go through with medical transitioning of any kind.

I like having tits, and the prospect of losing chest sensation is enough to scare me away from top surgery even if it would help me get gendered correctly more frequently, and binding sounds like more trouble than it's worth. I don't like having body hair, it's physically uncomfortable on a sensory level and I don't personally find it visually appealing; if I could make it so that no terminal hairs grew from my head down, I would. If permanent hair removal wasn't such a pain in the ass I'd probably get it done. Bottom growth has no appeal to me and sounds actively bothersome. I prefer the look of my current fat distribution, with shapely curves I quite appreciate, over what I would likely get on t. The only bottom surgery I would be interested in would involve getting, well, both parts, not out of any dysphoric reason, but just because I think that would be awfully fun. The only aspects of hrt that appeal to me are voice changes and facial hair.

Part of why I feel alienated is because I've seen some vitriol from other transmasc folks about people who want some aspects of testosterone but not others. I'm not entirely sure why some people feel ire for those who wish they could pick and choose the effects they get; I have some ideas, but that would be a whole other post. I just want my body to look how I feel on the inside, and I'm not lucky enough that that lines up with all the effects testosterone gives. I wish I could just get the aspects of t I do want.

My body by itself does not give me dysphoria, it's only how others perceive me that does. Unfortunately how bodies look and how others perceive gender go hand-in-hand, so if I wanted to be gendered correctly, I'd have to alter my body in ways I don't want.

I've known I wasn't a girl since I was aware of gender as a child and I really relate to nearly every account of transmascs experiencing dysphoria during childhood. I know that I identify with manhood and that I don't identify with womanhood on basically any level. I've adamantly refused "girly" things since I was a toddler and I would get angry when people said I wasn't a boy. I definitely did the whole "purposefully joining in when the gym teacher called on the boys to put away heavy equipment" thing. I have vivid memories of completely shutting down and sobbing whenever I was forced into wearing skirts. Dresses still make me want to claw my skin off. I only like nail polish and makeup now that I'm able to kind of approach them from the other side, and I feel a lot of kinship with femme gay men. I know who I am and how I feel.

And I of course think everyone should do whatever makes them feel most comfortable in their own skin, but it does get tiring to see approximately zero other trans men who are like me. I feel like I'm an outsider even within trans communities. I've met very few nonbinary people and all of them wanted to medically transition in some regard. The nonbinary community is basically a conglomerate of completely unrelated identities in a trenchcoat anyway, it's not easy to find others with like experiences save for "the gender binary is restrictive." I use they/them pronouns but that's partly because it's what I'm used to and it doesn't cause me any distress, and partly because I don't feel like I'm even the same species as other binary trans men. If my gender identity were in a vacuum and based purely on how I felt inside, I would enthusiastically identify myself as purely male, but within the context of knowing other trans men and my inability to relate to them on many fronts, I feel like there must be some part of me that's just different from them somehow, so I must be something else too. There's a reason I don't really use the nonbinary label for myself but I do use the genderqueer label.

I feel like a black sheep even within the trans community, and it doesn't help me feel more welcome in other communities I theoretically belong to, like the gay male community (which has its own struggles with transphobia, so consequently I feel even less welcome there as someone who by all appearances just looks like a weird lesbian and has no intention to get bottom surgery). I dont feel like I would really belong at an event like pride, and I don't know if I'd be accepted if others knew I have no intention to transition but am still adamant that I'm a gay man. The only communities I've ever felt like I really belonged in are the greater queer community, in all its inclusivity, and the intersex community, who have done a fantastic job at being welcoming to anyone who deviates even a little from the societally expected categories of biological sex. It doesn't help that along with seeing nobody else like me, I see acknowledgement of people like me very rarely. As mentioned before, I see nods to non-op and nondysphoric trans people occasionally, but pretty much only in sweeping posts meant to include as many infrequently-acknowledged groups as possible. It's nice, but it still feels ostracizing for that to be the only time anyone talks about people like me existing. Perhaps it's not representative and I'm just not in the places where I would see more discussion about gender-nonconforming trans men, I don't know.

I just want to exist and to be taken at face value when I tell people what I am, but people always treat my identity like a surprise, even if they're respectful. I just wish more people like me existed and were more visible. I feel like I'm kind of rawdogging the gender thing and there's no one else out there who can relate to my experiences. Not to mention the knowledge that some trans people would call me a faker and some gay men would treat me as a predator does wear on me, even while knowing that they're not representative of those communities.