#slowly accepting + figuring out that w all the disability stuff

[nataliewaitegf]

🫶

[steddieas-shegoes]

hiii not sure if you’re still taking requests but

no upside down au where teen single dad steve approaches eddie after hellfire bc every parenting stuff keeps mentioning how reading to babies is super important for their development but his dyslexia makes reading so hard let alone be expressive w it too and the kids keep mentioning how eddie is amazing on dnd. eddie is skeptical cause how come no ones has heard of king steve’s one year old ? but he accepts when steve offers paying but after seeing steve w his baby and understanding how he changed he refuses the money and cue them slowly falling in love and becoming a family <333

Sorry this took *checks watch* like 9 months to finish! I kinda took some creative turns, but it's done!

read on ao3

rated t | 5,182 words | no cw | tags: mostly fluff, single parent steve, not canon compliant, mutual pining, getting together, love confessions

📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚

Early August 1985

“Steve, it’s not like he’s gonna fuckin’ bite, dude,” Dustin said from the passenger seat.

“Language.”

“She’s not even awake,” Dustin whisper yelled. “I promise he’s cool. The worst he’ll say is no. It’s not like he’s gonna bully you.”

“No one else knows I’m asking him this, right?” Steve was suddenly worried that all the kids knew about Steve’s learning disability and they’d think he was actually stupid and-

“No, it’s just me. But if you don’t hurry up and go in before everyone else gets here, they’ll find out.”

Steve glanced in the backseat, smiling to himself at his sleeping daughter. She’d been out for nearly the entire drive from his house to Dustin’s to the high school, so she’d probably be waking up within the next 20 minutes and she’d be ready to stretch her legs.

She was a squirmy thing from the moment she figured out how to scoot around the floor, and it only got worse when she learned to walk at 11 months. The only time she was still and staying out of trouble was when she was asleep.

“If she starts crying, just sit back there with her. She just likes having company,” Steve reminded him as he unbuckled his seatbelt.

“Yep. I’ve literally babysat for you before. I can handle her for 5 minutes.”

“Attitude.” Steve shook his head and opened the door, getting out and only closing the door most of the way so it wouldn’t wake her up.

Eddie always showed up 30 minutes early for Hellfire Club to set up according to Dustin. He took this club very seriously, even as a third year senior. He kept it running all summer so that incoming freshmen would have time to get acquainted with his style of DMing or whatever.

Steve respected the dedication, though he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe that dedication were put into his homework, he would’ve graduated in May with Steve.

But Steve couldn’t actually judge. Not with the fact that he was pretty close to not graduating himself. He had a pretty good reason, but still.

The auditorium door closed loudly behind him, making him jump and clench his jaw painfully.

“Door’s broken. You gotta hold it while it closes so it doesn’t slam,” a voice said from the door to the backstage area.

Steve squinted through the semi-darkness and felt his stomach turn. Eddie.

“I guess it’s been a while since I’ve had to open it. Figured they would have fixed it by now,” Steve replied, walking closer to the guy he needed to talk to.

“No shit! Is that King Steve? In the flesh?” Eddie’s dramatics were endearing, even if it was slightly annoying that he pulled out the stupid high school nickname he’d lost well before he graduated.

“Yeah,” Steve sighed. This wasn’t gonna go well.

“Hate to be the bearer of bad news, but none of your precious kiddos have made it yet. It’s still early.”

Steve nodded. “One of them’s sitting in my car in the parking lot. Um, Henderson? He’s an incoming freshman.”

“Ah. Dustin’s got a place in Hellfire if you’re worried. I don’t turn anyone away who wants to be here.”

“No, no, that’s not it.” Steve needed to just spit it out. “He said you’re like, great at storytelling or whatever. Like you’re the best DM he’s ever seen and he knows I could use those skills for something.”

“Oh? What could Steve Harrington need DM skills for?”

“My daughter.”

The silence following his confession was louder than the door slamming only a minute ago.

He probably could’ve revealed his motives a little better, work up to the fact that he even had a daughter maybe. Very few people actually knew, and he had to keep it that way until he could leave his parent’s house.

“Your…daughter.”

“Yes. She’s just turned one and the doctors said reading to her is like, super important for learning words and helping her learn how to have an imagination and stuff. And I do read to her!” Steve suddenly felt worried that Eddie would think he was a bad parent. “I try to. But I’m, well, Nancy says it’s dyslexia? So words are kinda hard and it gives me a headache if I try to read for more than a few minutes and I’m so busy focusing on the words I don’t think I’m making it very fun for her-“

“Woah. Steve. Slow down.” Eddie braced his hand on Steve’s shoulder and squeezed. “I didn’t even know you had a daughter. Does anyone know you have a daughter?”

“The kids do, yeah. My parents do because they kinda helped cover it all up and made sure I still graduated so I didn’t embarrass them or whatever.” Steve looked down at the floor, shoving his hands in his pockets. He didn’t really want to go through the whole thing with this guy. “Robin Buckley knows? She’s my best friend. The Byers and Wheelers, Hopper. Some teachers know but were sworn to secrecy.”

“Huh.”

Steve looked up to see Eddie stepping closer to him, soft smile on his face.

“So what do you need me for exactly?”

“Dustin said you’re really good at telling stories and I figured maybe you would be willing to read to her? Not every day, like I can work with your schedule or whatever. Evening would be best for me, but it’s not really a big deal if it has to be other times. She comes to work with me so if it had to be during the day, you could sit in the office or something, I dunno.” Steve shrugged. He hated asking for help. But Dustin insisted Eddie was actually a good guy and would keep his secret. No one who saw her at work assumed Steve Harrington was a single parent at 18. That would just be absurd. “I just don’t want her to miss out.”

Eddie’s hand drifted down his arm, holding his hand for a moment before he stepped back.

“My schedule is kinda random. But I’m sure we can work something out.”

Steve’s shoulders fell as his body relaxed. “Yeah? I can pay you. Not much. My parents mostly cut me off.” Steve was scrambling. “I can give you gas money and stuff for having to come to us. And like, food? I can cook.”

Eddie’s eyes were intense, watching his every move, making him nervous.

“How ‘bout a free trial? I’ll do it for a couple weeks and then we can see about payment.”

Steve nodded eagerly. “Yeah, yeah. Cool.” Jesus, he was embarrassing. What happened to his charm? “Would you be able to start soon?”

“Normally, I’d say I can come by after Hellfire, but I have an…appointment right after tonight. I can come by tomorrow?”

Steve smiled. “Tomorrow’s good. I work until five.”

“I can be at your house by seven.”

“Great! I have plenty of books. Right now, she’s really into Old Macdonald, but I think it’s just because it sorta sounds like her name and we get to make silly noises,” Steve smiled to himself, not seeing the way Eddie was smiling too. “I think she’ll probably like whatever you read to her, though.”

“What’s her name?”

“Mackenzie. Robin read it in a book and said it meant fire-born or something? It sounded cool. We call her Mac or Kenzie for short so she hears Macdonald and thinks we’re giving her another nickname,” Steve laughed. “Anyway, I better get back to the car. If she’s awake and Dustin has to deal with her crying for too long, he gets an attitude.”

“Mackenzie. I like it.” Eddie nodded once. “See you tomorrow, Stevie.”

Steve agreed and waved, turning around to leave. By the time he realized Eddie’s nickname for him, Eddie was already backstage.

****

Steve was nervous.

He nearly burnt the chicken he was cooking for dinner just from getting distracted by thoughts of Eddie being in his home.

He didn’t even know why. Maybe it was the fact that he’d always thought Eddie was kinda rough around the edges and was surprised he’d agreed so easily. Maybe it was bringing someone new into the small group he’d had around for a couple years. Maybe it was the way Eddie’s hand on his shoulder seemed to leave a permanent mark despite being one of the softest touches he’d felt from another adult in a while.

Mackenzie was in her high chair already, eating some of the noodles he’d made as a side. She’d been practicing using a fork, so quite a few had fallen on the floor, but Steve still smiled and told her she did a great job any time she managed to get one to her mouth.

The doorbell rang and Steve felt his heart stop.

“Daddy!” Mackenzie squealed when the bell rang. She knew that usually meant Hopper was here. Everyone else just came inside on their own. “Hop!”

“No, baby, not Hop. Not tonight. It’s my friend, Eddie. He’s gonna tell you a fun story, okay?” Steve ran his hands through her hair as he walked by to get the door.

When he opened the door, Eddie was standing there with a handful of books, a box of crayons, and what looked like a hairbow.

“I’m here to entertain the princess!” Eddie exclaimed. “Lead me to her highness!”

Steve couldn’t hide the grin on his face if he wanted to. “She’s currently trying to stab noodles to death. I’m sure you’ll be entertained.”

“Ah, they must have wronged her. I’ll assist,” Eddie made his way past Steve, walking towards the kitchen.

Steve knew he’d been to a couple of the parties he threw to sell, but had no idea he remembered the layout of his house. Maybe he had one of those picture minds.

As Steve entered the kitchen, he noticed that Eddie had set down the pile of books on the counter before he sat down in front of Mackenzie.

There were a few books he recognized: an ABC book that he was pretty sure he’d had when he was a kid but had since lost, a book of fairy tales with Rapunzel on the cover, something by Beatrix Potter, and a couple of coloring books that featured princesses and dragons and horses.

“She isn’t really old enough to color, is she?” Steve asked, interrupting what must have been a very amusing conversation of mostly babbling. “I don’t have any coloring stuff.”

“Coloring with skill? No. She definitely doesn’t have the motor skills to color in the lines or even use the right colors for the right things. But it does help her learn how to hold a crayon. My uncle couldn’t really afford much when I was a baby, so for every Christmas until I was in school he would get me new crayons and coloring books. I don’t really remember how I did, but I do remember having fun.” Eddie turned back to Mackenzie. “And sometimes it’s fun to just make a mess, right?”

Mackenzie clapped her hands together, sending the toddler fork she’d been using to the floor with a noodle attached to it. Steve wordlessly grabbed one of her spoons from the drawer and gave it to her, kissing the top of her head before he knelt down to pick up the fork.

Eddie watched silently, something soft about the way he didn’t interrupt anything even though he could’ve kept talking.

“I made chicken and pasta. It’s probably not my best work, but I made enough for you if you haven’t eaten yet,” Steve offered as he walked to the stove to start plating the food for himself.

“I wouldn’t turn it down. Wayne’s not exactly known for serving five star meals,” Eddie joked. “He believes in the power of fried bologna and cheese sandwiches with a bag of chips.”

Steve grimaced. “Okay, well I made enough for you to bring home some leftovers too.”

“You don’t have to-”

“You’re taking home leftovers.”

Steve turned to see Eddie’s widened eyes and open mouth that slowly formed into a smile.

“I guess I’m taking home some leftovers.” He turned to Mackenzie and tickled her neck. “Your daddy is pushy isn’t he?”

Steve blushed, but continued making up a plate for Eddie.

As they sat and ate, Eddie talked about all of his favorite books for little kids, and how he remembered sneaking into the library after school for years because he knew he didn’t wanna go home. He talked about the first time a teacher wrote a positive letter home, an English teacher who said his fictional essay was the best in the class and he should consider writing as a career. He even talked about his plans for the school year campaigns, but made Steve swear not to mention anything to the kids.

“I’ll know if you tell them,” Eddie winked.

Steve believed him.

When they were done, Steve grabbed Mackenzie from her chair.

“I’m gonna give her a quick bath if you wanna bring all that stuff to her room. Second floor, third door on the right. It’s a little messy right now. Someone decided to pull all her toys from her box yesterday and I haven’t had time to clean it up,” Steve tickled Mackenzie’s side, making her giggle and turn her head into his shoulder.

“You need me to clean this up?” Eddie asked, gesturing to the table.

“Nah, I’ll do it while you read to her.”

Despite his efforts, bath time was never truly quick. Mackenzie loved to splash around and play with her toys, and if he tried to wash her hair too quickly, she would be grumpy for the rest of the night. He definitely didn’t want that for Eddie.

He set a timer for 10 minutes and tried to explain to a very excited Mackenzie that when the timer went off, it would be time to wash her hair and get out.

“You wanna have time to play with Eddie, so we can’t play for too long in the water.”

She didn’t seem to pay any attention to him, already too busy making her rubber duck fight with her mermaid Barbie.

He observed while she played, bringing in the rubber car she liked to pretend to drive on the side of the tub.

When the timer went off, she let him wash her hair without a fuss, and he quickly wrapped her up in a towel to get her into pajamas.

Eddie was waiting in her room when he got there, coloring books spread out on the floor. He smiled up at them from where he sat, legs crossed, hands in his lap.

“Squeaky clean?” He asked, waving at Mackenzie.

“Definitely lacking noodles in places noodles shouldn’t be at least,” Steve said, making his way to her changing table to get her dressed. “She must be pretty excited about you being here. Usually bath time takes at least 30 minutes and I have to bribe her with chocolate milk to get out.”

“She knows we’re gonna have a lot of fun. I think I’m gonna read Goodnight Moon first. That’s one of my favorites.”

“She’ll love that,” he said as he buttoned the snaps of her onesie.

As soon as he set her on the floor next to Eddie, she reached for a coloring book with a mermaid on it.

“Daddy! Muh!”

“Yeah, baby, it’s a mermaid! Just like your doll in the bath.” Steve pointed to the fish next to the mermaid. “And that’s a fish. Fish swim in the ocean.”

He felt Eddie’s eyes on him while he pointed to some other sea creatures and told Mackenzie what they were.

Eventually, he looked over at Eddie, blushing at the soft smile on his face. “What?”

“You’re a really good dad, Steve.”

“Oh. Uh. Thanks,” Steve felt heat flood his body.

It’s not that no one had ever said that to him. Robin had told him plenty of times, Joyce had whispered it to him when no one else was paying attention, even Hopper had given him a handshake and said he was doing a good job once. But hearing it from Eddie, in this situation, when he’d been feeling like such a failure lately, was enough to make him want to cry.

He had to get out of this room.

“I should go clean up and leave you to it.”

“Sure, yeah. We’ll be right here.”

Steve booked it out of the room, rushing down the stairs to try to get busy with cleaning before his brain settled on crying over a compliment.

But the table was cleared. The high chair was wiped down. When he turned to the sink, the dishes were stacked up to dry in the rack. The counters were wiped, the dish towel had been put back on the handle of the oven to dry, and leftovers had been put in a container to finish cooling down.

Steve let the tears fall.

Fuck it, if Eddie was going to be this nice, he could have a little cry.

He walked quietly to the bathroom to put all the bath toys in the basket, but stopped outside Mackenzie’s bedroom when he heard giggling.

He’d closed the door halfway, just so she wouldn’t get too distracted if he walked by the room, but he couldn’t help looking in.

He felt like crying again when he saw Mackenzie sitting on Eddie’s lap, pointing at something in the book.

“Where’s the moon?” Eddie asked.

“Moo!” Mackenzie said, smacking at a place in the book.

“There’s the moon! Good job, little one.” Mackenzie leaned back against Eddie’s chest. “And where’s the…toys?”

She pointed again, but slightly less enthusiastically. Steve could see her energy dropping quickly.

He watched as Eddie told her she did a good job again and then continued reading.

Her eyes drooped more with every page. Eddie’s voice got closer to a whisper with every sentence.

Steve fell just a little bit more with every second that passed.

*****

October 1985

Eddie came every day. Despite the fact that Steve insisted he didn’t need to, that he didn’t want to ruin his schedule, Eddie showed up like clockwork at seven every single evening.

Steve learned to expect him, always made enough dinner for all of them to enjoy before Mackenzie had her bath and then got to read with Steve.

Every night, Eddie would clean up while she took a bath, and every night, he’d let her pick a page to color while he read something to her, switching to a bedtime story when she started crawling into his lap.

Steve would watch them often, laying down on the carpet and smiling as he listened to Eddie use different voices for characters, asking her questions so she was involved, and whispering when she started to drift off.

Other times, he’d try to get something done he’d been putting off, like cleaning the bathroom or folding laundry.

Eddie never accepted payment.

Steve tried bringing it up once school started, certain that this time spent here could’ve been better spent on homework or a part-time job that paid better than what Steve could offer. Eddie just shook his head and insisted that other than Hellfire every Thursday, he would be there for free.

They got to know each other over dinner, and Steve found that he was right to have butterflies every time Eddie smiled at him, every time he would touch his hand as he walked by to say hi to Mackenzie.

“Halloween costume ideas?” Eddie asked with his mouth full. Steve had given up long ago on trying to get him to wait until he was done chewing. It wasn’t that big of a deal. “What did this little miss go as last year?”

“Oh. She was a bumblebee.” Steve smiled at the memory. “Cutest costume I saw all night.”

“I bet.” Eddie took a sip of his water. “And you?”

“Oh, I didn’t dress up.”

“What? Why not?” Eddie sounded genuinely upset.

“Just got away from me, I guess? By the time I thought about it, nothing good was left at the store,” Steve shrugged, unbothered. He’d never been that into Halloween. His focus was making sure Mackenzie had fun.

“And no one offered to help you make something?” Eddie was no longer eating and Mackenzie had turned her attention to him when his tone became serious.

“I didn’t ask.”

“But no one offered.” Eddie stood up and walked over to his backpack. “Okay, we’ve gotta plan. Did you already pick something for her?”

He came back holding a notebook and a pencil, brows set in a straight line. Steve had never seen him look so serious.

“I had a few ideas, but I wanted to let her pick something at the store,” Steve said.

“Lay them on me.”

They discussed costumes for the next 30 minutes, but after only 10, Mackenzie whined to get out of her chair. Eddie wordlessly stood up and picked her up, setting her in his lap and letting her poke and prod at him and his notebook.

Steve watched them both, accepting for the first time that this wasn’t just a crush that was gonna go away.

He’d fallen completely head over heels for Eddie, and he had no clue what to do about it.

*****

November 1985

Steve was the only one who had space to host Thanksgiving.

He became manic a week before, realizing that his work schedule would not allow him to have much time to clean unless he did it at night. The problem was that he would get a migraine if he didn’t sleep.

“So let’s work on it together. I can come right after school. Cancel Hellfire this week,” Eddie offered.

“But you already won’t have it next week because of Thanksgiving. I can’t ask you to-”

“You’re not asking. I’m offering. If I’m gonna be eating here, I should probably help clean up at least.”

So they worked on a little at a time.

Eddie wasn’t always helpful, getting distracted by some of the smallest things. But his company was appreciated all the same.

“You could invite Wayne, ya know,” Steve offered while he dusted the shelves in the living room. “Plenty of room and food.”

“Thanks, but he always works Thanksgiving day for the double pay. We usually do something the day after,” Eddie answered while he cleaned up all of Mackenzie’s toys.

“If he decides not to work, just let him know.”

“Will do, Stevie.”

He didn’t just help clean, he helped him do the shopping, too.

“I know it’s way harder with a baby, so if you give me a list, I can handle the shopping,” Eddie said while Steve plated their dinners.

“You don’t-”

“Have to, I know. But I can and will.” Eddie’s hand brushed against Steve’s lower back. “Let me help.”

Steve could barely resist the shiver that took over his entire body.

“Okay. Sure.”

Some of the brands were wrong, and he forgot the apples for the apple pie, but Steve still felt immense relief knowing that he had someone to help.

And without it, Thanksgiving would’ve been a disaster.

It was still a bit of a mess, but that was mostly because the kid’s table turned into a food fight that Max started and Mackenzie, of course, continued, until everyone was involved.

But the picture Jonathan took would get framed and hang up near the fireplace in the living room anyway.

******

December 1985

“I cannot believe you waited until Christmas Eve to wrap gifts. That’s not what parents actually do, is it?” Eddie asked as he fought with the tape dispenser for the fifth time in less than an hour.

“I don’t know if I’m the best judge of what parents do. Mine weren’t around much and probably didn’t even wrap my gifts themselves.” Steve took the tape from him, pulled some loose from the roll, and handed it back. “But I kinda always pictured it like this.”

Robin made him swear he’d talk to Eddie about his feelings before the end of the year. The end of the year was soon, real soon.

What better shot did he have than while Mackenzie was asleep and they were wrapping presents together?

“You pictured last minute wrapping with bribed help in your living room?” Eddie asked, amusement in his tone.

“Not exactly,” Steve huffed out a laugh. “More like spoiling my kid with someone I care about.”

Steve watched Eddie’s hands freeze against the clothes box full of new finger puppets they’d both gotten her. He looked over and felt his stomach swoop as Eddie’s eyes found his.

“Stevie-” Eddie set the box down and turned to face Steve.

“Wait, I just. Before you break my heart, hear me out.” Steve already felt his world shrinking, his heart rabbiting in his chest at the thought of losing Eddie entirely. “I’ve spent a lot of time with you for months. Like, more than almost anyone else. I’ve watched you with Kenzie, and how much she loves you and always asks for ‘Ed’ even when it’s way before when you’re gonna be here. You make me smile and laugh and that’s not always easy to do these days. You helped me when you didn’t have to, when you had absolutely no reason to trust that King Steve was a better person. You’re there for all the other kids even though you’re trying to get through school for real this time. I didn’t really plan a big speech, sorry. This is just rambling, I’m doing what Robin does.”

“It’s okay,” Eddie placed his hand on the side of Steve’s neck. “I get what you’re saying.”

“You do?”

“I think so.” Eddie stepped in closer. “But I think you might just be lonely.”

It stung. It wasn’t inaccurate, but it still hurt to think Eddie thought so little of him.

“I think I know how I feel.”

Eddie’s hand dropped from his neck and he took a step back. “I don’t wanna argue, Stevie. I just think you might need to separate yourself from the situation. I’m just always around, ya know?”

“You’re always around because I want you around!” Steve was just a bit too loud, but he knew Mackenzie was a heavy sleeper. “When you aren’t here, I check the clock to know when you will be. I get excited to leave work now because I’m not coming home to do the same thing I always did before. I get to see you and hear about your day and talk to you about mine and see you with my daughter, who probably loves you as much as I do.”

“You…love me?”

“Yes. I do. And I promise it’s okay if you don’t feel the same. I still want you here, reading to Kenzie. But I know how I feel. I know why I feel the way I do. You can’t tell me how to feel.”

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to.” Eddie sighed. “I’m just kinda surprised. Didn’t expect you to be into guys, let alone me. I’m not exactly good boyfriend material. Or stepparent material, either.”

“Oh, fuck that. You’re more her other parent than her mom ever was. She gave her to me the moment she had her and wished me luck before her entire family moved across the country.” Steve felt tears in his eyes. “I trust you. I want you around. I love you.”

Eddie swallowed, eyes pointed towards the carpet.

A minute passed, two. It was rapidly approaching awkward when finally Eddie spoke.

“But I’m so bad at wrapping presents.”

Steve snorted, but felt relief wash over him. “I can do the wrapping. This Christmas, next Christmas, as many Christmases as you’ll stay.”

“All of them?”

“Sounds good to me.” Steve leaned in slowly, let his hands grasp at the front of Eddie’s shirt to pull him closer. “How many Christmases do kids usually believe in Santa?”

“I dunno. I stopped believing when I caught my dad stealing the two presents under our tree when I was four.” Eddie let his hands fall to Steve’s hips. “But something tells me the little princess will be a believer for a while. Better get used to me ripping holes in the paper and using too much tape.”

“Think I can handle it.”

Every time Steve had pictured kissing Eddie before this, he’d thought it would be like any other first kiss, maybe a little awkward since it was his first with a guy.

Instead, it was soft, sweet, slow, perfect. He’d kissed a lot of girls in high school, had kissed them well. Not all of them were great, but even a less than good kiss was still decent.

This was more than any other kiss he’d ever had.

Eddie held him like he would never let go, like this kiss would last forever.

It couldn’t, but that’s how it felt.

When they finally pulled apart, Steve rested his head on Eddie’s shoulder.

“You wanna stay tonight? We can both do the Santa gifts with Kenzie before all the kids bother us,” Steve asked.

“I should call Wayne. I told him I’d be home by midnight.”

“He can come over in the morning, too,” Steve said. “If you want.”

“Are you sure you’re ready for Wayne? He can be a little…gruff.”

“I’m not worried,” Steve kissed Eddie’s cheek. “Hopper’s basically my dad. Plus, Mac’s got a way of breaking the tough old men down.”

“Bets?”

Steve pulled away and started wrapping another present before he got too distracted. “I give it ten minutes.”

“Oh, how generous. I’m giving it five.”

They both laughed as Eddie decided he’d be more help putting already wrapped presents in her stocking and under the tree and making sure everything was put away when Steve was done.

And for the first time, Eddie stayed the night, holding Steve against his chest while they slept.

They both cried when Mackenzie opened her presents excitedly. She was too little to do it herself last year, so seeing her tear through the paper and find joy in throwing it around the room was like a dream come true for Steve.

Eddie admitted he felt like he was intruding for some of it, but Steve quickly reminded him that he was the first person she toddled over to with her new set of princess books and said “Ed, read.”

She sat in his lap right then, even though she still had quite a few presents to open, and he read every single book to her, making her giggle with his high-pitched voices for the princesses and silly accent for the prince.

By the time the kids were coming through the front door, Steve was rushing to shush them, pointing at the couch where Eddie was passed out with Mackenzie curled up against his side.

Steve was never happier than in this moment.

Until the next one, and the one after that.

[eats-the-stars]

ok so i’m probably not going to word this the best, but I think I’ve finally convinced my bro-in-law-to-be (white, straight) that he can’t keep making homophobic/racist jokes around the house or out in public. and for context, he’s actually not a very racist/homophobic dude, but when he hangs out with his dude friends (a group that includes one gay dude, a bi guy, and a black guy) they all tend to throw around those kind of jokes in good humor. which is fine if they’re out laughing it up or whatever. but...not around the house, when none of those people are present to reciprocate.

and the bro-in-law-to-be has explained over and over that “my gay/black friend was the one who said this joke so it’s cool for me to tell it” but...his gay friend is not here to laugh at the joke. his black friend is not here to laugh at his joke. The only people in this house are me (white nonbinary ace or lesbian i’m still figuring it out, also autistic), my sister (white, bi), and our straight white dad who is very racist/homophobic but usually keeps it on the down low since he knows that we do not share his views and WILL debate him if he makes a nasty comment.

So our dad is usually quiet about his messed up thoughts...UNLESS someone says something to indicate “Hey, I’m racist/homophobic, just like you!” and makes it a safe space to suddenly start talking about “the Chinese virus” or “businesses should be allowed to refuse service to gays” and all this other horrible stuff, which then means that my sister and I have to go through another grueling debate with our dad about how “eugenics is bad” and “refusing to bake a cake leads to refusing to lease an apartment and it’s a slippery slope” and EVERY TIME the bro-in-law-to-be has been like “wow i didn’t know your dad thought those things” while my sister and I are like “AND WE WOULDN’T HAVE TO HAVE THIS ARGUMENT AGAIN IF YOU STOPPED TELLING THESE JOKES AND ENCOURAGING HIM TO BE OPENLY RACIST/HOMOPHOBIC.”

I can’t believe we had to explain to my bro-in-law-to-be that ppl who are racist/homophobic keep an ear out for these kind of jokes in order to recognize each other. A joke is the safest way for them to test the waters. If it’s poorly received, they can just brush it off and go “oh it was just a joke, guys, it wasn’t serious, I don’t really think those things, haha.” BUT it also provides the option for ppl to laugh and go “oh yes, that’s a good joke, i’ll tell you an equally horrible joke to prove that i share your beliefs.” and BAM, they’ve identified a fellow racist/homophobe/etc. and now know that they can talk openly in front of this person, or look to them for support if an argument breaks out. And then suddenly the space you’re in has the potential to become very ugly very fast if the majority of people signal that they’re comfortable with this, and then, if you’re a person who doesn’t agree, you have to either step up and try to shut that shit down and potentially put yourself at risk (which can range from actual physical risk to the emotional/mental damage that comes with listening to someone say terrible things about a group you belong to).

And my bro-in-law-to-be has the luxury of not belonging to any of these groups. Which means that if he makes a stupid joke at the wrong time that lights the racist/homophobic/ableist fire in the room, he’s not at risk of getting burnt. At most he’s going to be uncomfortable or feel like “wow that’s horrible” but he won’t actually be at RISK in the same way my sister and I will be. The way anyone else in that room who’s black or gay or autistic will be once he starts that ball rolling.

And right now we’re trying to focus on him not starting those fires inside our house, around our dad. Because my sister and I have tried very hard over the years to try to talk our dad out of a lot of his shitty mindsets and it’s slow progress, but we’ve managed to convince him of small things over time. he’s a lot less ableist and sexist, for example. Those were easier to work on because he has three daughters (us) and we milked that angle hard, and because I’m autistic, which we also milked hard since i was able to convince him to look at me as having expertise about disabilities that made him value my opinion. We’ve also made strides on the homophobia front, too. If I ever figure out that i like girls (still working on that) and actually date a girl, I think he would be uncomfortable at first, but he wouldn’t reject me as his daughter or anything. likewise, if my sister (bi) broke up w/her boyfriend and started dating a girl, he would probably accept that. We know this mostly because our dad apparently thought that our youngest sis (the irony is she’s the only straight one) was dating her bff in high school and was cool with it. Might have a harder time if, like, his grandson turned out to be gay (he’s more accepting of lesbians/wlw??), but we’re working on it, and we got him to accept using our trans friend’s chosen name and pronouns instead of his deadname, which took time (i’m still not out to him as nonbinary, tho. my sister and online peeps are the only ppl who know right now). So we’ve made progress!

But THEN my bro-in-law has to throw dad a bone with these lame jokes that are uncomfortable to hear coming out of his mouth in the first place (why is it always a cis straight white guy who thinks he can tell any kind of joke as long as he “doesn’t mean it”?) and so this has brought back a lot of those old beliefs in our dad that we’ve been trying to smother. These last few years under Trump have already set him back, ngl, but bro-in-law-to-be was not helping.

it’s also so hard to try fighting racism in our dad, partly because our area is so white and most of our POC friends don’t live here anymore (so far our best success is directly exposing him to a person belonging to the group he hates, and slowly letting him see that they’re human. he’s so non-confrontational that he’s not going to say anything in front of the person, either, and we supervise the whole time, and inform our friend beforehand–our trans friend volunteered to help us previously). and you can’t just say “black lives matter because they’re human beings with intrinsic value equal to a white life” because...he’s racist. he’ll debate you all day or say “ok ok” and let the subject drop w/out changing his mind. you literally have to force him to regularly have positive reactions w/a real life person to change him. god...it’s like training a dog or exposure therapy or something but it’s the best we’ve got. it’s not like there’s a school where u can send ur racist parents to learn human decency.

and it’s hard because he’s our dad and we love him and it’s hard to look at someone you love and know that he believes that straight white abled lives have more intrinsic value than anyone else...just because. i hate that we live in a society where so many ppl hate each other for these things. and it’s just...up to everyone else in their lives to decide to do anything about it. and even then, it’s so hard. and our dad is just one person, and we’ve had years and the benefit of him loving us enough to listen. i can’t imagine trying to reform a stranger, or tons of ppl all at once...

[somnilogical]

case study of optimization style: how kelsey piper optimizes to destroy coordination against injustice

her false face of "worrying about disrespecting jay", was the closest thing she could grab that she thought would get others to optimize for my silence. get local warm bodies to pile upon me for continuing to talk about how to get justice and give more information about different sources of injustice in a way compatible with people who have not completely disabled their general intelligence.

she was worried about her reputation and transfems gaining information that would allow them to coordinate along lines of shared oppression (which would start to erode miri/cfar which she wants to survive in order to have a nice (for her) environment to raise her babies), but thats not a socially defensible reason to object so she laundered it through being “worried about disrespecting jay”

11/12/2019

[14:10] Jay (System of Edo): Sarah Spikes has offered to have REACH do an investigation. I do not know this human, and have barely heard of REACH, but my understanding is that it's some sort of sub-organization that CFAR spawned, roughly. My instinct is to be like, "I believe you will talk to everyone and then conclude that basically no action needs to be taken, so in that case allowing you to do an investigation gives an air of legitimacy to dismissing Jay". Is "REACH is basically CFAR's pet" correct?

[14:10] acertain: afaik reach is unrelated to cfar

[14:11] acertain: and the space is controlled by Sarah Spikes and Nat

[14:11] ratsby: that's also my understanding

[14:11] Jay (System of Edo): I did not mean literally, I meant like in practice, are they complicit, etc

[14:11] Jay (System of Edo): like with CFARs bullshit in general

[14:11] ratsby: weren't REACH the ones who did the Brent investigation?

[14:12] silver-and-ivory: they did something about brent but weren't able to publish the stuff they got bc they believed he would sue them for defamation

[14:12] Jay (System of Edo): Oh wow. Cowards lol

[14:12] Jay (System of Edo): yeah that's pretty much all I need to know.

[14:12] Jay (System of Edo): thanks

[14:13] silver-and-ivory: :( I don't think they're cowards for that

[14:13] silver-and-ivory: but you have all the information i have so w/e

[14:14] acertain: I think reach doing an investigation would mean the reach panel (https://www.berkeleyreach.org/reach-panel), which afaik is a separate set of people from those who decide how the space is run

[14:18] acertain: idk if the list of people on the panel on the website is up to date though

[14:19] stardust: List is up to date

[14:19] stardust: Full Brent statement is available upon request, not fully public because legal risk

[14:20] silver-and-ivory: https://theunitofcaring.tumblr.com/post/182885399661/abuse-allegations-anon-here-i-am-happy-to-hear

[14:20] silver-and-ivory:REACH consulted an attorney about making the result of the Brent investigations public and were told that there was absolutely no way to do this without making each of the investigators individually liable in a defamation lawsuit. I’m also worried they could be sued to reveal the names of people who spoke to them anonymously in the course of the investigation.

[14:21] stardust: We were planning to get liability insurance when we get our legal non profit status but that has not panned out yet

[14:21] stardust: IRS is slow and hard to navigate

[14:22] Jay (System of Edo): okay, this is enough info on REACH, thanks.

[14:24] Jay (System of Edo): just told her not to investigate.

[14:24] ratsby: wait why?

[14:24] stardust: (She is me)

[14:25] Jay (System of Edo): oh.

[14:25] ratsby: I don't see how them investigating could hurt anything

[14:25] Jay (System of Edo):wait why?I don't believe they'll do anything tbh

[14:25] stardust: I will refrain from posting here if you prefer

[14:26] ratsby: seems like some chance of upside, no chance of downside?

[14:26] Jay (System of Edo):>I don't see how them investigating could hurt anything

My instinct is to be like, "I believe you will talk to everyone and then conclude that basically no action needs to be taken, so in that case allowing you to do an investigation gives an air of legitimacy to dismissing Jay". Is "REACH is basically CFAR's pet" correct?

[14:26] Jay (System of Edo):>I will refrain from posting here if you prefer

Yes, thanks.

[14:43] hamnox: The characterization of REACH panel as CFAR's pet feels bizarre. Iirc it got started in no small part because a bunch of locals were pissed off at how CFAR failed to do anything about, and implicitly legitimized, Brent.

[14:58] 𒀭 💮: i dont really know Jay, but i do know that the REACH panel is unjust and about as helpful and necessary as christian missionaries were to native americans. im not reporting my thing to it.linta is on it who made false accusations of emma being indistinguishable from a rapist and somni doing some sort of sex party at their house for social ends of suppression of unrelated dissent. and was generally antitrans in the standard way of saying people are crazy and incoherent, like how people are saying Ziz is schizophrenic when she obviously isnt. i think much of it are populated by lintas friends like mike alicorn and anisha. sarah c, one of the few cis people i trust at this point, had an emotional breakdown about it citing that they dont care about the Law and i think resigned. given the sort of place it is, i bet that none of the REACH panel members are transfem, people can correct me if im wrong.

im kinda for transfems coordinating with each other to the extent they can against people like brent dill, alice monday, lintamande, anna salamon and other agents of injustice. with better game theory than the likes of the REACH panel who flinch at "defamation".

[15:11] SeriesOfSymbols: Umm

Tbh I'm very uncomfortable with the idea that all these people are in the same reference class

[15:11] 𒀭 💮: they are in the reference class of perpetuating injustics

[15:11] lintamande: sort of assuming it would be unhelpful to Jay to litigate disagreements from elsewhere here. I don't know anisha. I don't think ziz is schizophrenic. I never said somni participated in the uninvited surprise orgy in my house, just that I was mad at the people who did. I don't think the REACH panel is good for anything except getting offenders banned from REACH in particular rn, and I think we should maybe check in with Jay about whether the rest of this is helping

[15:11] SeriesOfSymbols: As are

you

And  I

And ziz

Etc

[15:11] SeriesOfSymbols: Nobody is free from sin

[15:12] 𒀭 💮: ^ fallacy of grey

[15:12] 𒀭 💮: like also

[15:12] 𒀭 💮: there is a type difference

[15:12] 𒀭 💮: you socially but not legally implied to avoid culpability

[15:12] lintamande: guys does Jay want to host this conversation

[15:12] 𒀭 💮: the party things i could grep it

[15:13] lintamande: this is the server for helping Jay figure out what we can do to help

[15:13] TowerNumberNine: Jay appears to be idle at present

[15:13] TowerNumberNine: But previously they said there was enough info on REACH

[15:15] deluks917: Agree with Tower the Reach thing should get dropped

[15:15] 𒀭 💮: your "help" is poisoned in the same way that christian missionaries are and you are attempting to funnel peoples sights away from your injustice by framing me as derailing when this is relevant to Jay's needs.

[15:15] 𒀭 💮: and restriction of general intelligence is not.

[15:16] lintamande: somni I am happy to discuss this, I have messaged you offering to discuss this, I just am worried Jay will come back to this and feel like we are disrespecting what they've asked for here and not helping them

[15:16] SeriesOfSymbols: Fallacy of black and white

I think there is a meaningful difference between [rapists and abusers], [person who willfully covered for abuse], and [person who you have disagreements with]

[15:16] 𒀭 💮: i am not worried about this

[15:17] 𒀭 💮: i dont think im disrespecting Jay

[15:17] 𒀭 💮: there is a meaningful difference between stalin and yudkowsky, they are both, however, men.

[15:21] 𒀭 💮: coordination against agents of injustice is important. erasing the pattern of injustice is wrong. saying that all people are the same so we cannot coordinate against injustice because who knows who they are is wrong.it is important for people to know this sort of information so they dont do things like go to REACH expecting justice and then have their plans crumble.

[15:22] 𒀭 💮: people who present REACH as acceptable because "has not everyone sinned" are doing something wrong (linta is not doing this, they are doing a different sort of wrong thing, but also are erasing knowledge of the pattern of injustice)

[15:23] 𒀭 💮: or like if you run this reasoning on people and then apply it to reach with like "it couldnt hurt" are also doing something wrong

[15:24] x.: is there anything at all linta can say or do in this situation which will cause you to believe that they are not doing wrong?

[15:26] x.: (i am not sure how germane this topic is to anything, as this is not a dedicated "The Crimes of Lintamande" server, but so long as the subject is being discussed, i think it warrants asking)

[15:27] 𒀭 💮: yes, stop their suppression of emma and somni, their false claims made to not be culpable in a legal court but also to permeate a social court. stop their optimization for and apologism for cissexism, such in the case of minority stratification. "none of the panel members are transfem but the hosts are" "a lot of people who go to cfar are transfem but afaict none of the staff are" this is a bog standard oppression pattern which linta is familiar with.

[15:27] 𒀭 💮: and several other things.

[15:27] 𒀭 💮: i talked with them for months

[15:28] 𒀭 💮: before slowly and painfully realizing that they didnt care, that the structure they put out fed into evil, agentically. because they talked like my childhood friends who were particularly kind.

[15:28] 𒀭 💮: and i was vulnerable to that.

[15:28] 𒀭 💮: it was really hard to see through this aesthetic to how they were actually optimizing.

[15:29] 𒀭 💮: what effects they were having.

[15:29] x.: perhaps there is some other zone in which this chat would be more appropriate

[15:29] lintamande: that is what I have been saying

[15:29] 𒀭 💮: linta is trying to warp this conversation in that direction

[15:30] 𒀭 💮: because they dislike culpability

[15:30] x.: rather than both of you trying to get the last word in on what's clearly a grotesquely contentious conversation

[15:30] 𒀭 💮: i reject this plea of false peace

[15:30] 𒀭 💮: like

[15:30] 𒀭 💮: what you two are doing are obvious

[15:30] 𒀭 💮: i reject the framing of this not being relevant

[15:30] x.: right, every time one of you makes a post the other one immediately makes another

[15:31] 𒀭 💮: i reject this suppression of important information

[15:31] 𒀭 💮: framed as an irrelevant tangent

[15:31] lintamande: so I'm not saying 'this is irrelevant' I am saying 'let's check with Jay about whether this is helpful to Jay'

[15:31] x.: is new information being introduced?

[15:31] 𒀭 💮: i can see what you are doing

[15:31] lintamande: even if this is incredibly relevant and important it should happen somewhere else unless Jay wants it here

[15:31] 𒀭 💮: it is not optimizing for the good of jay

[15:31] 𒀭 💮: or the good of justice

[15:31] x.: @𒀭 💮 she's making posts online, which you are also doing

[15:33] 𒀭 💮: "making posts online" is important to the fate of the planet

[15:34] 𒀭 💮: like and a lot of other stuff. you cant say "its just making posts online, this is dumb" like sometimes posts are dumb but this is a reference class warp to claim this post is dumb, when i can see its not.

[15:35] x.: did i say it was dumb?

[15:35] 𒀭 💮: you are optimizing for like "you two are just contentlessly fighting, this is silly why dont we do something else besides fight." which is Pretending to be Wise.

[15:36] 𒀭 💮: https://www.greaterwrong.com/posts/jeyvzALDbjdjjv5RW/pretending-to-be-wise

[15:37] x.: i have actually not suggested the flamewar should stop, merely that this specific chat might not be a reasonable location for it

[15:37] 𒀭 💮: and talking with you about this pattern also supports lintas utility function which is suppression of the knowledge of injustice

[15:38] x.: i mean, i am not the person running the show here, so i could be entirely mistaken

[15:38] x.: it appears to me that this chat is supposed to be about a guy named "robert"

[15:39] x.: this seems tenuously, at best, connected to that

[15:39] 𒀭 💮: and yet Jay's statement

>My instinct is to be like, "I believe you will talk to everyone and then conclude that basically no action needs to be taken, so in that case allowing you to do an investigation gives an air of legitimacy to dismissing Jay". Is "REACH is basically CFAR's pet" correct?

[15:40] 𒀭 💮: and my statements are relevant

[15:40] silver-and-ivory: I feel like in the absence of Jay's presence people should do what they think is best

[15:40] 𒀭 💮: i think even in the presence of Jay, people should do what they think is best

[15:40] silver-and-ivory: also true

[15:40] x.: as far as i can tell, jay already said they were not interested in pursuing an inquest by the hand of the BREACH

[15:41] x.: and refused to engage in such a thing

[15:43] x.: so it's like, "is this person, whose involvement was specifically not requested, a dick?"

[15:43] 𒀭 💮: as far as i can tell this is optimization for silence. because this touches on important things, instead of having a paternalistic additude towards Jay. my read on their CEV after skimming their blog is that they are anti-suppression.

[15:44] 𒀭 💮: also, by like some sort of property rights, this is like 50% my channel.

[15:44] 𒀭 💮: as i was sexually assaulted by robert lecnik.

[15:45] 𒀭 💮: you are interfering with my space as a victim. which is a seperate thing.

[15:45] 𒀭 💮: this is "Robert Lecnik Abuse Chat"

[15:45] x.: so you would prefer to have lintamande investigate this in some way, then?

[15:45] 𒀭 💮: my report is the second item in #concrete-reports

[15:46] 𒀭 💮: i dont want linta to investigate anything besides their complicity with a cissexist system.

[15:46] 𒀭 💮: moriwen made helicopter jokes

[15:46] 𒀭 💮: after they ran out the trans people

[15:46] 𒀭 💮: from EAC

[15:46] 𒀭 💮: and is friends with linta: okay, i guess i am too confused to participate any further then

[15:46] 𒀭 💮: linta framed that as "blowing off steam"

[15:47] 𒀭 💮: i do not feel safe around either of these humans.

[15:52] 𒀭 💮: like not exactly blowing off steam but they said like it was good people were having fun when mori was doing their antitransfem thing.

these things become more obvious with processing.

i think robert, given their pattern so far of predation, possibly exploited environmental cissexism, was enabled by this. erasing knowledge of it leads to inability to coordinate against it leads to cis people treating transfem humans as if they exist in morality holes.

[15:54] 𒀭 💮: like i was around robert lecnik after Jay talked with anna about him i think. if anna listened to Jay and took them seriously, if robert lecnik were banned from cfar spaces and the berkeley meetup, i dont think i would have been sexually assualted.

[15:57] 𒀭 💮: erasing knowledge of cissexism because the people perpetrate it "use preferred pronouns" or whatever leads to inability of transfems to coordinate against it.

[16:04] 𒀭 💮: Jay wrote:

>On Anna Salamon: I remember her seeing me as a transwoman who exclusively liked men; Blanchard has a whole “theory” about this. And apparently that made me a “real” transwoman (wtf), unlike the rest of the transwomen in LW. I feel she explicitly went out of her way to validate me as a woman a number of times, like, there was one time she was saying hi to me and did the human version of this: (http://www.thebalancedcanine.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/IMG_1166.jpg). Which, yeah, she’s a TERF.

>Also, the reason I hated her early on was, there was a time that she, I, Robert Lecnik (my rapist), and Peter (his husband) were in a room for an hour long private therapy thing since Peter was a large CFAR donor. Robert admitted to “sexually assaulting Fluttershy and being ‘bad at consent’ with a whole bunch of other people”, and Anna didn’t see any issue with letting him continue to “run the Berkeley meetups” (an honorary thing, he used it to often-ineffectively hit on people). And I had some betrayal trauma from Anna around this, as well as a later feeling of “wow I got pwned by a guy that low in mana, I’m lame”, too. Fortunately it’s all emotionally processed now.this sort of information is very relevant for coordinating against people like Robert Lecnik

i think if cissexism were deleted, in counterfactual worlds in which transfem people got to be on things like "abuse panels", this sort of predation wouldnt happen. but like responses that reactively goodhart this and say "choose the most complicit-with-the-cistem transfems and place them on the panel to avoid culpability" are useless.

individuals learning game theory, forming class-consciousness, and coordinating with each other might help bring justice to things like Robert Lecnik being allowed by the cistem to continue to prey on trans people, to prey on me. with full knowledge that this was going on.

[16:05] 𒀭 💮: https://sinceriously.fyi/intersex-brains-and-conceptual-warfare/#comment-240

[16:09] 𒀭 💮: i have some hope in anarchistic cooperation between smart humans. i have approximately 0 hope in cissexist abuse panels and people like anna salamon who allow the predation of me and people like me to happen.

[16:37] Jay (System of Edo): sec, need to read through all this.

[16:58] 𒀭 💮: if cissexism were deleted this narrow sort of predation would stop happening but like, there would still be predation there would still be predation on minorities. i care about all sentient life not just transfems. this is not an optimization target but is saying "you who say cissexism does not have a hand in the game, if cissexism were actually deleted the counterfactual world post-deletion would look very different than this one. accepting a status quo where like trans people arent on things like sexual abuse panels and arent employed as CFAR staff is accepting cissexism. and resulting in things like, when they go to these institutions they are ignored"

[17:22] Jay (System of Edo): So. My main thing is to look at what algorithms people are running. Like, REACH sounds like they're not brave enough to do something they believe would make the world a better place at a small personal cost, so why would I care about mitigating circumstances if I already know that that's the algorithm they're running. (edit: this is what "is REACH basically CFAR's pet" pointing to, eg if they are pwned by the same things. rather than pointing to whether the two orgs are ostensibly related).

Similarly, discussion of REACH beyond what was needed for me to figure this out (about six lines of text) is not at all useful to me. But pointing this fact out to silence Somni suggests some sort of preference to defend REACH. So, if that's the algorithm you're running, then I see you as (probably) sorting people/discussion topics based on what you can socially get away with. Sort of like, the word "appropriate" is in the same class as "uppity" "disrespectful" "honorable" etc, and this applies to asking if it's "appropriate to discuss REACH despite Jay's preferences".

I personally do not participate in long conversations about who is "in the right", because I personally find it very easy to figure out what people are trying to do, and find that continuing on chats longer than that is a waste of my time. But, this is also Somni's space as a victim of Robert, so it's okay if she wants to discuss REACH I guess. I've never talked with her, but she (they?) seems to have good takes with respect to when someone is de facto hurting others or running bad algorithms in a way related to that.

[17:49] Jay (System of Edo): (sort of like, when I hear that someone sexually assaulted another person, I don't think, "well I guess it's a small harm relative to the good you can do if you're maximizing your life for utilitarian impact", I rather think, "what the fuck algorithm are they running, I don't think they'd have done that if they were trying to reduce the suffering of all beings, maybe there's something I can get out of this person, but definitely not like, outsourcing thinking/project leadership/etc to them"

[18:50] Lorelei: (also related to the reach panel, I'm transfem and was very eager to volunteer as a member, in part because I wanted my queer social circle to have some representation in the process of Justice, but was turned down.)

[18:51] Lorelei: (just so they can't claim not having a tranfem member is justpure coincidence/lack of volunteers)

[18:58] 𒀭 💮: (linta messaged me to say that moriwen saying the helicopter thing was after they said having fun was good. and i checked this and its true. but like that is not at all central to why i think they are collaborating with cissexism or why i talked with emma for like 15 minutes about how people like linta and mori might be horrible to transfems if we told people about alice monday. (people wouldnt actually be marginally worse to transfems. people dont have prejudiced beliefs like that, their transphobic "beliefs" are a coordination mechanism for harm. white people in the antebellum south could see perfectly well that those who were enslaved were human beings.) noselling commitments to transphobia is a good move in response to "what if outing a trans abuser worsens cissexism?".)

[19:02] silver-and-ivory: oh linta and mori left

[19:02] 𒀭 💮: they were banned

[hellholland]

A headcanon of Tom dating a shy reader who is his co star and has anxiety?

aww yessss! this is a long one so buckle up. the beginning is more meeting/getting together and the bottom part is more of the headcanons/anxiety-related things

• you and tom initially met at the screen testing of their movie

• tom was cast a little bit before you were. you already knew about that and it scared the shit out of her because she was newer to the big movie scene than he was

• you were over the moon when you found out you were cast, both a little anxious and excited• ”is gonna be a douchebag???” “what if he doesn’t like me?” “will they recast me?” a LOT of self doubt and concerns about tom

• once you arrived on set to work on a few testing scenes and green-screen stuff, harrison was the first to greet you. tom was running late, somehow

• “what if that messes up our schedule? is he gonna get in trouble?” you said that out loud, much to your dismay. you were thinking too fast because of how anxious you were about filming

• this was one of your first big movies, let alone a movie with a marvel star? “if he’s a dick or something goes wrong, it could wreck everything, especially if we don’t have chemistry” - your internal monologue, repeatedly. your mind rambled through all of the worst outcomes

• harrison had this weird look in his eye when you didn’t readily accept the fact he was late just because iTs tOm HoLlAnD

• turns out that weird look was some prophetic thing. he knew you and tom were gonna get along

• tom arrived to set twenty minutes with tessa and a latte for dogs

• he rambles to the director, who’s slightly unhappy with this “i’m really sorry i just saw the ad for it and i got so excited-“

• he didn’t notice you standing by at first because of how apologetic he was for being late

• this settled your nerves a bit because what a fucking dork move. you loved it

• “oh, oh my god! you’re (y/n), right?” “uh yeah, tom?” “nice to meet you!”

• he hugged you instead of shaking hands

• the first few days were awkward banter, but he still was really warm and welcoming person, constantly trying to make you feel happy and at-home with everyone

• going out w/ the cast and posting pictures was common. fans started commenting on how “close” you two looked

• tom really liked trying to make you laugh during serious scenes. once, instead of sitting on the chair behind his desk like the blocking told him to, he ran, jumped and slid over it while you followed him into the fake office

• he biffed it. bitch almost got another broken nose

• you almost got a panic attack from how much his nose was bleeding but he ended up being the one calming you down until you laughed again

• here comes stunt filming

• you told the team you’d do your own stunts. you wanted to go out of your way and try new stuff

• anxiety made that really, really hard. you felt like a lot of your childhood wasn’t spent like it should be. you missed out on a lot because of how severe it was and you told yourself at the beginning of 2018 you’d make it up to yourself

• nevertheless, as soon as they strapped you in the harness you started breathing really shallow. you felt constricted rather than safe

• you didn’t say anything. your throat was so dry you felt like you couldn’t anyway

• you were supposed to fall off a platform, cling onto the edge for a few seconds then fall twenty-something feet till the harness stopped you. there was protective stuff underneath in case something went wrong, but you were almost crying

• heights weren’t your favorite. you did it anyways, after about ten minutes of pacing and tom coming out of his trailer to encourage you

• he only vaguely knew of your anxiety. he didn’t know you were shooting the scene on your own till he came out, which instantly got him worried for you

• “hey, i’ll catch you if you fall!” “yeah?” you yelled back, mustering up the humor to give him a half-hearted smile “yeah, but only if you’re falling in love!”

• you laughed. and blushed. shit.

• “i think i like him?” “took you long enough to figure it out,” harrison replied, sipping his coffee

��� anyway the same day of the falling-stunt, something went wrong with the rope and you fell further than what they told you. you fell into the tall mesh/foam pads but it caused a full blown panic attack. you weren’t expecting it

• you couldn’t move, but your heart was beating so fast you thought it’d pump too much blood and you might die

• you were just frozen, waiting for your body to register what happened

• in the meantime, your brain was kind of on fire. your head felt hot and you were getting dizzy just laying down

• “hey, hey, (y/n)” tom’s familiar voice rung out and you felt a weight beside you, fumbling to unclip the metal bit from your harness. “that was terrifying, but you’re still here, yes?” he spoke in a really calm voice, slowly lifting you off the landing and getting you to the ground

• the set and staff were scrambling to fix things, people were apologizing left and right

• you could move again, but you didn’t want to talk. everything was blurry.

• he walked you into his trailer, where harrison was laying around. you faintly remember them talking about whether or not you were okay

• you sat down on tom’s bed in the back area of the trailer, tom looking at you worriedly from the doorway.

• you started to cry and shake a lot

• while it was an awful feeling, at the same time you were grateful you could make sound again

• “okay love, it’s alright,” tom murmured, sitting on the bed to hold you and kiss the top of your head

• after a solid fifteen minutes of sobbing into his chest, you fell asleep

• unbeknownst to you, harrison came in to talk to tom

• “you’re really whipped for her, huh?”

• “i guess you could say that,” tom replied quietly, rubbing circles into your back

• fast forward two months. you’re shooting the final scene, which includes a kissing scene

• …but not between you and tom.

• you were getting really worked up over it. the actor was nice enough but you weren’t close

• tom was no where to be seen, even though you had to shoot more stuff together right after the kiss

• eventually you got it over with, after a couple takes

• that’s right, a couple. you felt a little light headed but managed to to go knock on tom’s door

• “come in” “hey, i haven’t seen you around. what’s up?” you asked as you poke your head in. “nothing,” he replied with an offbeat tone. he was on his phone, not looking up

• “sounds like you’ve got a stick up your ass today, holland”

• tom looked up with a very confused look on his face. “since when did you talk like that?”

• “since i started being honest with other people and myself.”

• tom swore in the moment you held that cheeky grin on your face was when he fell in love with you

• but of course he didn’t say anything. he didn’t express he was bitter about your kissing scene. he was scared of brutally honest communication, yet you weren’t.

• this was odd, even to you, that you were so willing to say that to his face. you had no malicious intentions, you just wanted to get him to open up. you were feeling comfortable around him now. (it used to be you almost had an anxiety attack if he made a joke about you, to you. you’d read too far into it and think he hated you)

• “i finished ‘the big scene today,’” you sighed as you sat down next to him. he was still staring at you. “what’s wrong?”

• “nothing. nothing’s wrong.”

• your stomach flipped. he seemed really pissed which made you very panicky. “a-are you sure?”

• “yeah.” he looked away, tossing the phone onto the table by him and looking up at the lights.

• “you’re scaring me.” you said weakly after minutes of silence had gone by.

• tom realized what he’d done, that he’d been short with you when it wasn’t your fault. he forgot about your anxiety. he forgot that you were a human with fears. he was just settled on the fact you were outside making out with another guy, even though it was fake.

• “i’m sorry”

• “i just want you to talk to me. you know you can say whatever you want.”

• (harrison really was an ass for making you two do this on your own)

• “how do you feel about noah?” he asked. your co-star. your on-screen lover.

• “he’s okay, i guess. why?” you raised an eyebrow.

• “alright. i like you. a lot. and i don’t like seeing you kiss other guys because i want to be the one kissing you.”

• very blunt. you were in shock for a bit and tom got really nervous because he thought you didn’t reciprocate, but the moment you kissed him, everything he was thinking just dissolved

• from then on, the rest is history.

• after eight months, your relationship went public, which brought a lot of love and a lot of hate. (you got really upset over that to the point of disabling comments and social media hiatus’)

• you moved in together! something your fans found out quickly. they were like detectives, a lot of people gave you shit for “moving too fast,” but tom reassured you constantly about those anxieties

• one time someone told you to kill yourself. tom came home to you crying in your bed, having one the panic attacks where you don’t think straight and just want to distance yourself from everyone.

• “it’s better if i leave, tom. they’ll stop being awful to you. we won’t get bad press anymore. it won’t hurt as much.” your eyes were pink and your nail beds were raw from how much you picked at them. you’d scratched one part of your palm so much that it was bleeding.

• tom’s heart broke, and he found himself cradling you again on a bed. “i love you so much, (y/n). you’re my fucking world and no one else can change that.” he said, kissing your knuckles. he wiped your tears away and looked you in the eye. “you know that, right? that i love you?”

• you couldn’t look him in the eye. you were shaking so much and so very convinced that others would tear you apart.

• “i am not moving until you say you know that. because i absolutely need you to know that i adore you and love you in every single way there is.” he picked up your chin to look at him.

• “i know you do.” you eventually whispered, tears still slipping down your cheeks. he pulled your head into his chest, rocking back and forth slightly. “i love you too.”

• paparazzi was the worst. you hated them. as soon as the flashing lights started you would begin to shake

• tom would always to the best of his ability, find routes or entrances that paparazzi wouldn’t be at when you went out

• when it was unavoidable, he’d grip you around your waist, running so fast he’d nearly carry you into places. sometimes he’d cover your eyes too

• if you were out in public, he’d always give you his hat and sunglasses to wear to help you feel safer

• “hey! (y/n)! how does tom feel about you and noah centino’s hot scene in the new movie?” “(y/n), look here, look here! show me a smile, pretty lady!” “that’s one fine piece of ass you got there, holland” - the paparazzi could be really vulgar sometimes

• “can you fuck off?” he said to all of them, almost yelling. he almost hushed the crowd as he flipped them all off and walked inside with you.

• when you had bad days with your anxiety, you had s tendency to scratch yourself. when tom got home from work or you got home from work, he’d always make sure you had a bandaid or something to protect them.

• there were days where you helped him, too. when the public lifestyle was too much, you’d sit behind him and brush his hair as long as needed. sometimes it was hours while he ranted, or just silence.

• sometimes he’d just fall into you while you were laying or sitting somewhere, resting his head on your chest.

• holding him was the best anti-anxiety medicine you ever had.

• you were always in awe of each other. awed by how beautiful your relationship was, how understanding one person could be, and everything in between.

• tom never, ever yelled at you. not once. he tried his best to never be snippy because he knew it scared you, but some days it was really hard. you did the same for him.

• when you got sick, he held your hair back. throwing up usually triggered some form of anxiety, and he’d just hold you in the bathroom floor when you were done. you might be sweating and hadn’t showered for three days because you couldn’t get up, and he’d just sit there, his head again the wall with his arms wrapped around you.

• on those days when there was no reason for you to be anxious, but you were, he would check in to make sure you were taking care of yourself.

• sometimes he’d leave you alone because you needed it. he could read you effortlessly. when one of you got home, sometimes the greetings were just a simple hello. other days they were a drawn out hug and a passionate kiss.

• being in each others presence was enough. you didn’t always have to be doing something, touching or talking, it was comforting to just know that they were there.

• tom helped you. he didn’t fix you, because you did not need fixing. he just helped. he was there when you needed it and vice versa. he was a caretaker and could give you the truth. he was a lover and a friend.

• his forehead kisses were like drugs to you

• when you woke up in the middle of the night from a bad dream, he’d wake up too. he’d just grab your hand, look at you and give you a soft kiss on the corner of your mouth. he never once let you go out onto the balcony to “get some air.” on those nights. he knew you might stay out there all not and not sleep, or your panic attacks would get worse from the heights and half-conscious combination.

• tom was a sucker for dancing in the moonlight. when those same nights were really, really bad, he’d make you get up and you two would just sway to the non existent music. sometimes he’d sing to you.

• you liked having your head on his chest when he talked or sang to you because you could feel the vibrations as he spoke.

• he loved you. you loved him.

• often, the only two words that could describe him seemed odd, but fit so well

• beautifully human.

[365daysofmikayuu]

April 12th, 2018

Title: Lettuce Be Friends! (Part 3)

Author: Cherry

A/N: Third part of Lettuce be Friends! Mikaela is a force to be reckoned with, and Yuu does not know what to do. How will he get out of the mess he’s in?

Last part will be on April 16th!

He thought of moving away.

Yuuichiro thought of fleeing to another city, of changing his name so that Mikaela wouldn’t find him, or maybe hiding out in another country until the storm has come to pass. He’d have leave his classes for a while and take a gap year, or switch to an online course so he can take them from afar. Yuuichiro thought of many things.

But does Mikaela even know his name? For all he knows, he could be, “That Weird Guy” or “The Dude Who Visits My Shelter” in the blonde’s head. And heck, he didn’t have to move away. He could simply avoid the shelter and never go there ever again.

…But the guinea pigs!

How could he stay away from them? He was already attached to Clover, and the other guinea pigs were so cute. He remembers the black-coated fellow on the exercise wheels, and the light grey one sleeping near the back end of the shelter reminded Yuu of his very own pet as a young boy. That was before he found out he was allergic to them and poor, adorable Ashen had to be taken away.

He cried many tears when it happened. To add salt to the wound, his fathers forbade him from owning another one ever again. It resulted with him being terrified of handling the one thing he loved most in the entire world.

Life is not fair.

When he comes home to his own apartment, Yuu throws himself on the double-seated couch, upset with making a fool of himself. Darn it, he should be able to do whatever the heck he wants! Mikaela suggested he think about adopting Clover, and boy, if only he could. He can already imagine the memories they would make, like giving her baths or chasing her as she runs around his place.

If Mikaela finds out he’s allergic to guinea pigs, would he throw Yuu out into the streets too? Would he forbid him from seeing Clover again for his own good? Perhaps not. Being around the little things may be terrible for his health, but Yuu doesn’t care. If he must tolerate the intimidating presence that was Mikaela, the guinea pig shelter’s only staff member and manager, and if he had to accept such a risky volunteering job and succeed at it, then Yuu will take as many antihistamines, wear as many layers and gloves as he needs to for the sake of those guinea pigs. True love never dies!

Unfortunately, stupidity does not either.

-o-O-o-

“This one is Butters. You can probably tell why.”

Butters. The golden-coated guinea pig is timid and healthy, large brown eyes trained on Yuu for a moment before it scurries towards its nesting area. It pounces on a toy and circles it, button nose quivering.

“He’s the last one?” Yuu asks, waggling his finger at it. Mikaela confirms his question with a, “Mhmm”, his full attention on the clipboard in his hands. Yuu spends his morning off getting to know the other twelve, like Shimmer, the black-coated Storm, and the youngest of the bunch, a white guinea pig called Soap.

“So how exactly does your adoption process work?” continues Yuu. “You’re a one-man babysitter, hoping to find good shelters for abandoned and disabled guinea pigs. What goes into it? Are you funded by animal activist companies, or is this just an individual thing?”

Mikaela responds without looking up. “The latter. I have a lot of money saved up, and I use that money to fund important causes like caring for animals. I’ve always loved guinea pigs and already rescued a few of them from home, so one day while passing by, I bought this place. I could easily keep them all but, I thought sharing the love with passionate pet owners would benefit us both.” When he tilts his head to one side, Yuu notices the pig-shaped clips Mikaela is wearing to pin back his fringe. How cute.

“Prior to opening, I obtained a pet certification license, so I know the processes of inspecting potential owners’ backgrounds and making sure the pet’s future home is suitable for them. There will be adoption fees for supplies and medical care — the intimidating stuff. Still though, it’s mostly an instinct thing for me. I’ll know an individual has the capability to care for a potential pet when they’ll do anything, even it means endangering themselves, for their sake.”

The next gaze Mikaela shoots at him burns, like he’s got him all figured out. Nevertheless, his honest words change things. The Mikaela of last week was an impish, overbearing stranger — his presence and the matter he handles situations foreign to Yuu. Now, however, Yuu sees himself in Mikaela — a young man with a desire to protect the creatures who need a second chance at life. He’s glad he decided to come in today. Just in case he has another allergic reaction, he’s got two packets of antihistamine pills in his pocket, and he coated up like the middle of winter.

“Mmhm,” hums Mikaela, clicking and unclicking his pen quickly. “Yuu, would you be okay with handling things in here for a while? I’m going out.” He crosses the area to grab a jacket from the back — Mikaela’s office, Yuu knows now.

“W-W-What? You’re leaving me just like that? It’s barely afternoon!”

Mikaela grins at him. “I’m aware. There’s something I forgot to pick up nearby, and I need it now. I‘ve already filled their houses with hay, so for feeding time, please make sure to cut up romaine lettuce and cherry tomatoes from the back fridge like I showed you. If someone comes in, tell them to hold until I return.” He frees his hair from the ponytail and combs through it a little. “I won’t be long. You can do it.”

Already abandoning him to go out on his first day! Preposterous! Yuu’s weak goodbye is the last thing he hears before he’s gone, the door creaking slowly to a close.

TBC

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[jukemaid]

I was just wondering if u had any tips for dealing w/ pain? Sorry to ask it's just i would like some advice and i have no idea who to talk with

oof yeah i gotcha

ok so to briefly go over my ailments to give some understanding: i have like the WORST bones and joints of mankind and my spine is literally just crooked (not scoliosis either just misaligned) and my knees are genetically bad, legs all bad. everything is bad. i started chiropractic care bc i had early stage one degenerative disc disease in my lumbar and cervical spine. i still see the chiropractor weekly because sometimes my hips are just crooked and it sends my entire body out of balance and. pain. yeah.

and then the migraines. h

my arms are great everything else is shit

ok so

the thing is is that i was raised in one of those wonderful conservative households that drilled into me that there was nothing wrong with me and i was not trying hard enough. cue me at 20+ in such horrific pain i couldn’t move and laid on the floor crying and then went to bed still crying because i was in so much pain.

i lived on painkillers. max dose NSAIDs max dose acetaminophen. i had to regularly rotate the kind of nsaid bc i took them so much. this will be important later

the pain was too much for even vicodin that i had post-surgeries.

the solution ended up being seeking specialists. it was that quick. i had been deprived of information for so long i never knew my options until i hit my breaking point and could not deal with living in so much pain anymore

so for the most part my shit’s covered and i’ve had to accept the fact im not physically able and figure out how to deal.

TO ACTUALLY ANSWER YOUR QUESTION:

1. my knees are shit. i can’t stand for more than a minute without pain and them getting stiff and doing that painful snapping thing. i wear compression knee braces (level 2) to work and make sure to slowly and gently bend my knees and stretch every so often. just enough to take some of the pressure off. otherwise i outright sit down and rest my joints for a bit and take what painkillers i can.

2. i cannot take NSAIDs for the time being because i overused them to the point of them eating away at the lining of my stomach wall. the warnings on the labels outright caution you about this and, not having much of a choice, i fell right into that shit. and it sucks. don’t do this. combine nsaids + acetaminophen (aka tylenol) as needed but try to not use the max dose regularly because you will get used to it and it won’t help anymore. and sometimes you really do just have to cope with pain and it fucking blows

3. light exercise helps build muscle strength where it’s needed, but overworking the muscles or using muscles that are damaged or grown improperly (ie, the ones with my crooked spine) will make it worse. i recommend physical therapy for this bc they’re REALLY good at knowing the ludicrously specific exercises to help with the little things.

4. do research and then do more research. find doctors and specialists and then find more. information is constantly growing and being aware of everything and continuing to be up to date will save you trouble in the long run. you will never be done finding info about your problems because every day will always bring new stuff to look through. new practices opening and new doctors to find.

5. i have an electric heating pad i use for my back very very often. it helps, but you definitely should not overuse it either. you’ll fuck up your sensitivity to heat and then it won’t help either and you’ll risk other problems. cook your muscles responsibly

i can’t think of anything else super important. honestly it’s a daily battle and you gotta decide how to cope as needed and what meds to ration out and how to handle pain. whether or not you need to move around a little to stretch your muscles, or take it easy because you’ve hit your limit. sometimes it’s both bc shit sucks and this happens.

i hope my clusterfuck here was at least a little enlightening? feel free to send asks or w/e about like anything since i have a ton of free time being disabled and usually in too much pain to move

[miu-paras]

Lvl. 5 ⋮ Red // Final Chapter

October 5th, 2019. 11:50 AM. ♪ - Sidewalks and Skeletons / Above (Part 1) | Disasterpeace / Vignette: Corruption (Part 2)

Several things happened when I got back to Earth.

First thing I did was panic.

A natural response, really. It had clearly been a fucked up night, one that only got worse the longer it went on. We had an entire army of android police on our asses, not to mention all the hitmen on Pixul’s side out to get us after the stunt we pulled.

We stole everything. Every device, every piece of gear, weapons, modifications, or tools at their disposal were gone. At least from her grasp, anyway. Now, they were here on Earth, surrounding us in scattered piles on the floor. All because I wanted Pixul, Vex, and the thing that tried to turn my mind into pudding to go through as much agony as they put me through. It was worth it, yes. But it left a disaster at our feet, that at first sight seemed impossible to fix.

Second, Spike and I worked hard to clean up the mess we made in the shooting range. Once I was done muttering about how my sensei was most definitely going to kill me, I shaped Red into a rolling cart large enough to carry the stolen artillery. It took several trips and significant manpower, with me pulling the cart with my mind and Spike pushing with all four arms and every ounce of Talurian strength he could muster, but we successfully managed to smuggle everything into an abandoned city building blocks away from the training space. It had a basement level luckily, and we were able to unload our hefty boon there for the time being. Until I could figure out something better, at least.

Third, I armed both my own home and most of the city with deadzoners. It took some time to figure out the algorithm, and Red had to offer assistance throughout the process, but I was eventually able to finish the custom programming, effectively making Tokyo a massive blindspot. My location could no longer receive transporter signals. I didn’t want anyone from Nuva being able to simply beam their way into my home again, let alone finding our cache of Pixul’s stolen goods.

Pixul…

Part of me wondered how angry she’d be when she found out what happened. Not just our escape, but her stash as well.

And another part of me wondered if she was even alive. How could she be? Not after we…

Enough of that.

Fourth, I raided the conbini and the outdoor supply store for as many goods and utilities as I could get my hands on. Food, sleeping bags, blankets, lanterns, anything that would help Spike feel more at ease. He refused to stay at my place, no matter how many times I offered.

“Someone has to keep watch over all this stuff,” he kept saying. I wouldn’t argue, of course. I was too tired to after the night we had. I’d eventually have some questions to ask about… all of this. But for now, that wasn’t the priority.

Fifth, I went to bed. And I slept like a fucking baby. For at least 24 hours.

That was, until the memories flooded my head again. Memories of Kalar lost in a fit of violence and rage, obsession blinding them from everything else. Memories of my mother fighting them. Of my mother… killing someone. And from that memory blossomed another, one equally disturbing. And another. And another.

My mother, my ima, was an assassin. More than just that, really… they were a harbinger of death.

I couldn’t sleep anymore after that.

It was a few days after the incident. I’d taken time to relax, as did Spike, whose real name I still hadn’t learned. I focused on work, on my beautiful girlfriend, my family, my friends. Anything that could somehow help distract from the fact that hundreds of stolen alien weapons were hiding in a basement somewhere in Tokyo under the watchful eye of a four-armed stranger who would absolutely eviscerate anyone that tried to touch it.

But now I was here, sitting cross-legged in the center of that basement floor, with Spike sitting across from me. Finally, a chance to talk. To figure out what our next move was.

And who the hell he was.

“Let’s start with your name, maybe?” I asked, breaking the pregnant silence between us. Spike straightened in response, eyes that stared aimlessly at the floor suddenly shooting up in my direction as he cleared his throat.

“I’m Sai. Short for Sai’xhanzi,” he began, “Born and raised in the slums of Gan’em.”

“And you… work for Pixul? Or used to? Or never did…?” I tilted my head slightly.

He shook his head in response. “Ah… the last one. I’ve got my own group… one that’s been fighting against Pixul and the many crime bosses in Gan’em like her for a long time.”

My interest piqued; an eyebrow quirked in response. Instinctively, I leaned in, waiting for more information.

Sai sighed, shaking his head again before continuing, as if searching for the right words to articulate his thoughts. “I’m from a street gang, known as Xh’andor. ‘Vitriol’ in your language. But we’re not like the other gangs in Nuva… we’re here to protect the slums.” A sternness entered his voice as he stared back at me. “For a long time, our communities have been torn apart by gang wars, violence, dirty black-market dealings, and corporations pushing us out of our homes. Most folks don’t have the means to recover, and just end up homeless, jobless, in debt, or worse… after a while, after seeing so many suffer at the hands of corruption, losing their livelihoods to the violence and devastation they never asked to be a part of… I just couldn’t take it.”

Sai stood, slowly pacing around the room, perhaps restless now that the difficult memories of his home resurfaced in his mind. He stared mindlessly at the stacks of weapons splayed out all around us, head turning only slightly in my direction. “I formed Vitriol to fight against corruption. To be the answer to all the madness that seemed endless… we stuck to local gangs for a while. Intercepting smuggled cargo, thwarting ambushes, engaging in all-out fights if we had to. We stole from megacorps too—whatever tech we could get our hands on… but lately, we’ve fallen pretty low on resources. Not enough to help those we promised to defend, and certainly not enough to continue the fight. Those of us with prosthetics were at a disadvantage as well, with our own limbs failing us from time to time. Things got rough, so… we had to change our tactics.”

He turned to face me fully this time. “I decided to go undercover, act as a double agent underneath one of the biggest distributers in Nuva’s underground trade. That’s when I found out about the giant weapons cache… and that’s when I found out about you.”

I blinked, suddenly wary about where the story was going. Sai could tell, and they immediately moved closer, dropping to a knee so they were eye-level. “I need your help, Miu. You’re a genius, from what I’ve heard, and from what I’ve seen. I know you were the one to disable the deadzoners. I saw how you defended yourself against the Vaanen. And then there’s your stunts in Talur… you’re… you’re exactly what we’ve been searching for.”

He paused again, the sigh he released more tapered this time. He was nervous. He was trying. Begging.

“You’re not a weapons dealer, I get that. You don’t want to be involved in all this, I get that too… but think of all the good you could do. Think of what we could do to more people like Pixul. Like Vex. People that only want to cause more suffering. I swear to you… your inventions will only be used for good. That’s something Pixul couldn’t promise you.”

I had to admit he gave a good pitch. Better than the vague, sinister one I received from Pixul, at least. But I was still on edge. Conducting business with him meant connecting myself with Nuva further. And last I checked, we were on Gan’em Most Wanted list before we high-tailed it the fuck out of there.

“How do I know this won’t put me in more danger?” I asked, my own voice now matching his sternness. “We angered one of the biggest gangs in Nuva. The Vaanen know our faces, and no doubt are hunting us down as we speak. There’s no safe place for you—for us—to conduct any sort of business with this big of a target on our backs. Besides, I… I’m not the genius you think I am…” I frowned, my gaze lowering slightly.

He huffed once, only quirking his brow with a half-smile. “You could’ve fooled me.”

The comment was enough to almost bring a smile to my face, one that would’ve matched his had I not shook my head and sighed. Slowly, I could feel myself being won over, but something still held me back from being pulled over the edge and onto his side, still sheltering me away from full acceptance. Like a pendulum off rhythm, or a scale out of balance. Something was… off. Uneven.

Something needed to give.

“Thanks for saving my life,” I said, offering a soft smile.

“You saved mine,” He shrugged. “We’re even now.”

My smile faded. “No. We’re not. Because now you’re asking for something else.”

He frowned as well, a brow raised to me. “W-well, I—”

“Y’know, prior to the beginning this year, there wasn’t much in my life I had to worry about. Other than my job, my loved ones, or whatever tournament I had in the coming days or weeks or months, I managed to live a pretty carefree life… until now. Now?? I have aliens up the fucking wazoo, and it seems like they only ever want something from me. Build them a bomb. Build them a mech. Build them bombs and mechs en masse until my arms fall off like I’m some god damn one-woman factory and nothing else! But has anyone ever stopped to say ‘Hey, Miu. What do you need’? NO! Because it has never once occurred to anyone that I came to Nuva with my own problems, my own questions, most of which are still largely unanswered and now have more problems tacked onto them. But no one, not a single fucking person, has so much as tried to give a SHIT!”

Now I was the one pacing, going back and forth while I ranted, and while a surprised Sai did nothing but stare in silence. I paused in my back and forth to take a breath, knowing if I’d gone on for any longer that lightning would be shooting from every inch of my body. Massaging the bridge of my nose, I finally sat down again with a sigh, eventually meeting Sai’s stunned face once my expression was calm.

“I respect what you’re doing. A lot. I really do. And… I do want to help you… in fact, I will. But you need to promise to do something for me first.”

Sai did nothing but nod this time. “Whatever it is, I’ll do my best.”

“Well first off, you’ll need to supply me.” I tipped my head towards the pile of weapons, gear, and materials, “Pixul’s shitty guns will help us get by for a while, but if you’re operating on a much bigger scale… I’ll eventually need more.”

Sai stared at the massive pile as well, then nodded once. “No problem at all. I wholly intend to.”

Glad to see we were still on the same page. Now I just needed to hope I wouldn’t lose him with my next request.

“I also… I need you to find someone for me.” I stated nervously, my leg bouncing rapidly as I continued, “Their name is Iannis. They, uhh… well, they were a server at Pixul’s club? Long, curly white hair, in braids. They had… strange scars on one side of their face…? Pixul had them sent away, and… I need to find them. Does any of this ring a bell at all?”

Sai was silent for a while, brows knitted together as they stared pensively down at their lap. The silence from him only lasted seconds, but I felt my heart beater faster longer it went.

He shook his head, his gaze settling on mine once more. There was a look in his eyes, one that seemed mournful. Regretful.

I felt my heart sink immediately.

“I was there… when they were taken away. They were, umm… quite the fighter. So I helped to pin them down.” He was averting his gaze now, eyes searching for anything else to stare at, as if the shame was too heavy to face, my judgement too scary to acknowledge.

“The Makalden… wasn’t able to sedate them somehow, so… we took care of it. Then they were dragged out, and that was that. As to where that was… um...” He shook his head. “This isn’t the first time Pixul’s had people… sent off. And it’s always the same place. The one place no one could get in, or out…”

He met my eyes again, stern and unwavering yet the regret still lingered. I swallowed, feeling the sadness in my heart being replaced with fear.

“It’s Vano.”

[ Oh no… ]

{ Where’s Vano…? Is that bad? }

[ It’s a civilization to the north. They are completely closed off from the rest of Ulteria due to the region’s high prevalence of Stormers. Not to mention, their sectors are heavily fortified and fragmented across the continent. No one gets in. And even if we could, it’d be like searching for “a needle in a haystack,” as the saying goes. ]

“So that means…”

[ Iannis may be lost to us. ]

“Oh fuck… Fuck, fuck, fuck.” I groaned, head falling into my hands as I fought back to urge to scream and cry. After everything I’d gone through—that we’d gone through—to get to this point… it’d be all for nothing.

“Is there any way you can… I dunno… figure out exactly which sector they were sent to? And who’s holding her? If there is a ‘who’?”

Sai shook his head again. “I could try, but… that’s information only Pixul would know. That and Vex. And whoever they had organize your friend’s relocation.”

My head shot up immediately, the defeated expression wiped clean from my features at the sound of Sai’s last words. “Someone else organized her trip to Vano…” I mumbled beneath my breath, "That’s it then! You just need to find whoever it was and get an answer out of them. It shouldn’t be that hard, right? They’ve gotta be lower down the ladder than Pixul and Vex—”

“They’re traffickers, Miu,” Sai cut me off, “These are dangerous people. I’d be putting my own operation in danger. My own people in danger. Even if there was a chance I could find your friend, I have fewer connections now than I did then. Not to mention, the Vaanen are out on the hunt for us. We have to wait for things to die down before I can do anything.”

I frowned, crumpling into myself like a deflated balloon in the wind, that defeated feeling almost returning. “But you’ll still do it… right? When things die down…?”

Sai let out a heavy sigh. He paced momentarily, hands on his hips, before facing me again. I looked up at him with hopeful eyes, waiting with bated breath for an answer. For a tiny sliver of hope to come and wash away all my worries. Desperately wanting to know I could do something right for once. To finally feel closer to getting the answers I need.

Maybe someone heard my wish.

“…I’ll see what I can do.”

I couldn’t stop myself from leaping to my feet, or from wrapping my arms around my new companion, clinging to him with all the strength I could muster. Sai was more than thrown off by my sudden affection, enough that I almost broke through his stoic demeanor. Four hands reached up to pat my back gently, and I could practically hear the soft smile he bore suddenly widen.

“It’s… the least I can do. You’re doing a lot more for me, anyway.”

I pulled away finally, nodding once with a smile of my own, though it fades once my eyes landed on the pile of weapons once more.

“I’ll need tools… and more metal. Bring me everything your people have in terms of equipment.” I began making my way around the room in circles, surveying the walls, the ceiling, the entrance. “It isn’t much as far as secret bases go, but… this will have to make do.”

“So that’s it then?” Sai asked, tension returning to his body as he held out a hand towards me, “We have a deal…?”

Trepidation crept over me, as if it was only now that I realized—truly realized—just what I was getting myself into. But there was no pulling out now.

And I didn’t want to.

I approached him, palm sliding into his as I gave his hand a squeeze.

“Deal.”

Ascension. Corruption. Dissent.

Do not become attached to the things of this world, for there are many more.

One and two, becomes three.

Three, two, one. One, two three.

The third holds the power…

The third… the third…

This is my last memory of the shar— [ MEMORY REDACTED ].

More than that… this is my last memory of Kalar.

They recited those words like a mantra. Over and over, without any sign of exhaust. And they don’t look uneasy as they do so. There is no sign of tension or anxiety. The unhinged glint in their eye that was present during Ghivussi’s execution is nowhere to be found. In fact, Kalar looked… relaxed. As poised and collected as they usually were, all while repeating those words over and over and over again.

Ascension. Corruption. Dissent.

Ascension. Corruption. Dissent.

Over and over. Without fail…

Things always seemed to come in threes.

Three words. Three worlds.

Three commands. Three prophecies.

Three…

The riddle was maddening.

And yet, my tsanagar seemed to have worked their way through it. Because today, they approached every new step with more confidence than the one before it. They were filled with a new determination. They knew exactly what to do, and exactly how they were to do it. As if it were the only mission with any purpose to them. As if it were all they had left.

Night. The 36th hour of Sandis Errmis.

Kalar grasps the [ MEMORY REDACTED ].

It glows upon contact, the device vibrating in their hand, heating up as the light it emitted became more and more intense. The light burns through the Minister’s palm; my healing manages to mend the seared flesh in equal pace, allowing Kalar to maintain their grasp. Over time, the whispers returned again, as did those three commands. Three steps to follow. Three prophecies to fulfill.

One of death.

The mysterious passing of Salas. Then the murder of Malvas. Umvis’ demise was unforeseen, but clearly tied to it all. Then there was Ghivussi’s execution. Death… death was prophesied. But the question of why still loomed over me like a specter.

One of cycles.

The cycle of loneliness. Salas is lonely. An outsider in Essa, or so it seemed. They cling to Vasniar as an escape, as a connection to the home the once had. An obsession they later carefully instilled in their child. Kalar, already feeling disconnected from their peers, clings to their religious beliefs, as it was the only thing left connecting them to their late ima. Faith and isolation, only strengthened by [ MEMORY REDACTED ]. Worsened by the loss of their greatest love.

The cycle of violence. It runs through the Aedonnoe bloodline. Malvas continues it, with cutting words, stringent teachings, and far too harsh reprimands. Kalar keeps to tradition with their own children—in some ways worse than their ima. Unable to break away from the only form of love they’ve known. The only form that seemed to have any permanence, as kindness always seemed to kill.

The cycle of… cycles. Of never-ending loops. Fates we cannot avoid no matter what steps we take. A butterfly effect, yet all the dominos fall in the exact same order, at the exact same place, each and every time.

But what was the third…

Kalar stares deep into the [ MEMORY REDACTED ], light filling their pupils as radiating colors danced across their face. And as it happened, the whispers grew louder. And louder. And deeper. So much, one could feel the ground beneath their feet tremble with each passing word.

And there it was…

One of rebirth.

[ MEMORY REDACTED ]

No…

[ MEMORY REDACTED ]

I’m so close…

[ MEMORY REDACTED ]

[ MEMORY REDACTED ]

There has to be something here… anything. One last thing…

[ MEMORY REDACTED ]

[ MEMORY REDACTED ]

[ MEMORY REDACTED ]

[ M-MEMORY REDACTED ]

[[ MMEMORY REDAACTED ]

[ [[ MM-ME[MOR[[RRY RRREEDD[[ACTE—

…Darkness…

Darkness, and then light.

Something is different. This memory… it does not feel like something I databased. It does not feel like anything pulled from Kalar’s own mind. No… this wasn’t like that at all.

This was all mine. My own memory. One buried deep within the recesses of my programming, underneath years and years of service to my wielder. Devoid of tampering, of holes or missing pieces. It was as clear as day. A mind—mymind—freed from any connection.

Freed from Kalar, who sat before me, meters away.

It was an odd feeling. Like being a turtle ambling about without a shell. A moth just as it emerges from its cocoon, awkward and uncoordinated in its flight. I have lived my whole life, whole centuries, tied to this person. And now I am without them, freeform and floating in an ethereal space. Nothing about it felt right. If anything, it was rather… scary.

I was afraid. Terrified. Yet the closer I came to my tsanagar, the more I realized they weren’t. They were still just as at peace as they were before we ended up in this strange place. As if they expected it—wantedit

As if it were prophesied to them.

“One of cycles…”

The cycle of loss.

I was inches away from them now, and I settled my incorporeal form beside them. Their eyes were on me. Those piercing, icy white eyes that seemed so calm, so filled with a tranquility they’d been vacant of most of their life. Perhaps this was all they were seeking—to be at peace with themselves. To be free of the isolation. The fighting. The inescapable loops. Free of their fate.

Yet still… it felt like more than that.

A smile graced their lips, and their hand stretched towards me, fingertips just grazing past my spectral form.

“I will miss you, Kalonis.” They spoke my old name softly. A sadness began to swell within me at the words, and for a second I thought if I was capable of mustering it, tears would be coating my ghostly face.

Their hand pulls away from me, their smile fading as they turned their attention forward once more. The shard appeared in their palm, its triangular form glowing and pulsating more and more as Kalar’s grasp grew more firm. Beneath us, the ground began to shift and rumble, growing more violent with each passing second. But Kalar seemed undeterred, their arm trembling as they maintained their grip on the device, which was now shifting color. Darker tones filled their crystalline surface, purple, pink, and blue shades turning darker as they swirled around black, mixing to change their hues. Underneath Kalar, cracks began to form in the ground that previously had seemed like an empty, white void, splintering further and stretching past my tsanagar. The more it spider-webbed, the more I was certain we would fall through. Instead, the crevices opened further, making way for dark, inky fronds that slowly rose from the void, latching themselves onto Kalar like vines, snaking around her limbs and waist and constricting with all its might.

It was a sight that looked all too painful, but the Minister was unphased. My tsanagar was calm, at peace despite the chaos unfolding.

The price to pay for the power they wielded was death, and they accepted it.

 [ M-MEMORY CORRUPT ]

The tendrils coiled around them fully now, nothing left in sight but the band that decorated their head, and the shard they grasped in their palm, now completely blackened and dull. It was then that the booming voice returned.

[ MEMORY CORRUPT ]

The voice grew louder and louder, repeating its commands over and over until Kalar had memorized it enough to whispers the words alongside it. And with the words came visions, images flashing in front of my vision before quickly disappearing. They were hard to discern, and even harder to make sense of.

That is, until the voices reached me as well.

THE TRANSGRESSOR PERISHES.

THE EXILED BEARS THE SUN.

ONE AND TWO, BECOMES THREE…

“The third holds the power in the end,” Kalar finishes.

An image flashes before my eyes. A barren wasteland, darkness blanketing where a great civilization once stood. Now it was all in ruins in ashes, and only shadows remained. Shadows and tendrils, jutting from the earth.

Another flash. A child falls upwards into the sky. Light radiates from every inch of them, pouring from their fingertips, their eyes, their mouth. They let out a mangled scream, one that carries until their back hits the ground—foreign ground—as the light around glowing more and more furiously.

Another flash. The child is old now. In their mouth, they carry an apple, held in place by their teeth. In their right palm rests a Maladian pine fruit. The left palm remains empty, that is until the light leaves their form, their ethereal glow replaced now with a dull, solemn statue of stone, and their left palm now heavy with the same fruit.

A final flash. The light wanders aimlessly through a shroud of darkness. Black clouds snuff out any other form of illumination, and the same black tendrils lash out in an attempt to grab or kill the glowing orb. But they do not prevail. For the light is safe. It is home. And it is waiting.

Suddenly I am pulled away from Kalar.

[ MEMORY CORRUPT ]

The distance between us grows, as some unknown force continued tugging me away, rapidly at first then slowly. Slow enough to watch them fade away from me. As if they were ceasing to exist.

Slowly into darkness I fell.

[ MEMORY CORRUPT ]

We returned to reality, me back in my metal form, Kalar back to sitting in the center of their quarters, our minds connected once more. They breathed heavily, their panting quickened as they stared wide-eyed at their palms, now blistered and scarred.

[ What… ]

“…Have I done?”

[ MEMORY CORRUPT ]

[ MEMORY CORRUPT ]

This is how it ends, isn’t it?

[ MEMORY CORRUPT ]

[ MEMORY CORRUPT ]

[ MEMORY CORRUPT ]

[ MEMORY CORRUPT ]

This is how it all ends.

[ MEMORY CORRUPT ]

[ MEMORY CORRUPT ]

[ MEMORY CORRUPT ]

I’m sorry, Kalar… my tsanagar… my friend…

[ MEMORY CORRUPT ]

[ MEMORY CORRUPT ]

[ MEMORY CORRUPT ]

[ MEMORY CORRUPT ]

[ MEMORY CORRUPT ]

[ MEMORY CORRUPT ]

Goodbye.