#y’all don’t value our existence or humanity

[tariah23]

Saying it here but nbs and whites need to read every last comment from black ppl on that post about fandom racism and their experiences.

[saetoru]

girl same i just wanna sit on nai’s lap and kiss him and squeeze his tiddies is that so much to ask

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。HUMAN — MILLION KNIVES (NAI).

「 SYNOPSIS 」 nai can’t bring himself to hate you—until you almost make him feel human, that is

☽ contents ⋮ gn! reader, slightly suggestive but also not rly, fluff if you squint but also idk if it’s rly fluff, kissing and all that good stuff lolz

☽ notes ⋮ y’all saw his tiddies in todays episode right. we all saw that right. we all lost our minds right. RIGHT.

“nai,” you whisper, hands traveling along his abs, feeling the ridges of his taught muscles before settling for his chest, squeezing slightly as you pant against his mouth, “nai, i want you.”

he scoffs, and he wants to glare at you, but your lips nip at his jaw, suck sweetly at the skin, make his eyes flutter shut and his breath turn erratic as he holds back a grunt when you find a spot on his neck that makes him particularly hungry for you.

nai doesn’t like you.

which is a step up, you suppose—if you were anyone else, he’d hate you. if you were any other human, he’d despise your existence. but, for some unknown reason to even himself, nai doesn’t hate you.

for some reason, it’s hard to hate you—it’s not like he sees value in you, or that he even finds you all that tolerable. you still feed off plants, off his kind, off his brethren. you’re still every bit as guilty as the rest of the disgusting likes of humans. but somehow, he thinks you’re a bit fascinating, so he settles for disliking you instead of his usual hatred.

and it’s not that he makes an exception for you—or so he tells himself, that is. it’s a complicated situation, really: you seated on his lap, his hands gripping your waist, your mouth molding against his, his chest rising and falling with every slow stroke of your palm over the skin. it’s all a bit too complicated when he knows you’re supposed to eventually be dead like everyone else when the time for a new world comes.

because nai doesn’t like you, and he certainly doesn’t need you around—but he does love the way you make him feel when you kiss him like that.

your hands are cupping his cheeks, thumb stroking over the mole on the right side of his face under his eye—and for a moment, just a moment and nothing more, this rare, foreign gentleness of a human erases the atrocities.

but knives dislikes you, and he’ll never give you the satisfaction of knowing he wants you too.

“pathetic,” he spits, “how pathetic of you to think you’ll have me.”

“ah, but i do have you, don’t i?” you hum cheekily. how bold of you, he thinks, how bold and downright foolish you are to speak to him with such confidence, such little regard for your life.

it’s almost as if…as if you trust him. like you trust him not to kill you, to let your bravery slide and look past it. how utterly naive—and yet, it makes him all the more fascinated by you, makes him want to keep you around so he can observe you some more. perhaps kiss you too, and feel the warmth of your hand against his cool skin.

“you’re certainly confident for—” he’s cut off with a small grunt when your mouth finds his again, and then your hand is trailing to find the back of his neck, and then his hair, and then your fingers thread through the locks slowly, deliberately, gently.

like you’re taking care of him, like you’re not using him or taking from him for your own gain. like you’re here just to give and give even if you can’t take.

and for a moment, nai wonders if you’re really human. you must be greater than that, he decides. you must be something far more divine than a human—and it must be why he’s unable to loathe you like the rest of humanity.

it must be it—it has to be, he almost reasons desperately. why else would he of all people melt under your touch like this?

“you can’t get rid of me,” you murmur, pressing sweet, delicate kisses to the corners of his mouth, scratching at his scalp with tenderness he’s only seen once from a human before. “im staying right here, nai. with you.”

“yes,” he decides, gripping your hips tighter, pulling you a tad bit closer, “yes you’ll stay right here. under my watch.”

and then you kiss him again, sat on his lap as your hands explore his chest and your lips chase his own—and nai decides maybe it’s not so hard to hate you, after all.

he hates the way you make him almost wish he was human for a short moment.

© hanmas do not plagiarize, repost, translate to other sites, or recommend on platforms outside tumblr such as tik tok

[berryhobii]

Namjoon as your werewolf boyfriend….

* Follows you around EVERYWHERE

* To the bedroom, to the kitchen, to check the mail

* Even to the bathroom (he’ll just wait outside for you)

* Hovers around you while you cook

* Always eager to taste anything and everything

* He’ll sometimes try dipping a spoon into something when you’re not looking

* “Hey! No!”

* Then here comes the pout and the teary eyes

* And because you are oh so very weak to him, you’d relent and let him taste

* Then he’s happy again and you fall a little more in love with him

* He’s practically a big lap dog in both his human and wolf forms

* When you’re relaxing on the couch or in bed, he’ll come and plop himself right on your lap

* When he’s in his human form, you don’t mind it as much

* But his wolf form is 10 times larger and furry

* You always insisted on getting a bigger couch but he’d just say

* “But this is our first couch together. It has sentimental value.”

* Him and his big heart

* Ugh you loved and hated it

* The ash colored wolf would stalk from somewhere, following your scent to the living room

* You’d be watching television or playing a game on your phone when suddenly your vision would be blocked by a mass of fur

* He’d be careful of his nails to not hurt you, climbing onto the too small couch for some cuddles

* “Oof. Namjoooooon. You’re heavy.”

* He’d just huff as if saying “don’t fat shame me”

* Knowing there was no moving him once he was comfortable, you just had to accept your fate

* Sighing, you’d lean your head on his back, focusing back on your phone or the television

* Eventually you’d mindlessly start petting him, running your fingers through his soft fur

* Something new you learned about his fur was that he doesn’t need to wash it since he gets a new coat everytime he shifts

* Crazy right?

* (Do y’all ever think about that type of stuff with werewolf au’s?)

* Anyway

* He’d relax under your ministrations, a deep and content rumble vibrating in his chest

* If you were feeling down in the dumps, he’d play fetch with you

* He sort of hated acting like a dog but seeing your happy face everytime you threw the ball made it all worthwhile

* One time you tried to convince him to dye his fur red and be Clifford for Halloween

* That was a big no

* “We could be little red riding hood and the big bad wolf.”

* “I’m not a stereotype, y/n.”

* “You’re literally watching birds right now.”

* “Bird watching is a very popular hobby!”

* “Yeah…..for dogs…”

* You did convince him to dress up but he decided to be little red riding hood

* That means you were the big bad wolf and the opportunity was too good to pass up

* “My my, little red. You look good enough to eat.”

* He froze up at the feeling of your claw like nails running up his broad shoulders

* “B-baby…”

* He turned to face you, already finding you on your knees before him

* Your golden colored contacts stared mischievously at him

* Hands gripped the edges of his loose fitting pants, pulling them down his legs

* He grunted when your warm palm enclosed around his growing shaft

* “We should really get to the party…ah.”

* Your tongue darted out to lick at his head, the saltiness of his precum sparking your taste buds

* “What’s the rush, little red?”

* When you were in public, he went from a sweet baby to an overprotective boyfriend

* Your scary dog privilege let you walk around without worry

* Sometimes if you wanted to go somewhere at night, he’d shift into his werewolf form and trail along side you

* Even other dogs would scamper out of his way and creepy men didn’t even look in your direction

* No one really knew werewolves existed so to regular people, he just looked like a huge dog

* A dog that was almost the size of the car but you digress

* In his human form, he was always holding your hand

* Moving you out of the way before someone could bump into you

* Staring down every person that got a little too close to you

* And those few times people have been rude to you, he’d let out a low warning growl

* You’d sometimes have to keep him in check with a gentle hand on his chest or a brief look that told him not to overdo it

* Werewolves were unbelievably strong in both forms, scarily so

* You’ve never seen Namjoon get truly feral but you watch a lot of nature documentaries

* So you could only imagine him if he was really angry

* Your boyfriend was also beefy as hell, compliments of his genes so you knew he could protect you

* But that didn’t mean you wanted him breaking someone’s bones and possibly going to jail

* Still, seeing him get all worked up did get you all hot and bothered

* MATING PRESS

* Your flexibility sucked when you started dating

* So in order to keep up with him, you started doing flexibility training at home

* Where at first your hamstrings would burn, now you could throw your feet behind your ears like nothing

* Sweat would drip down his body as he pounded into your puffy cunt

* Making sure you felt every single inch he had

* You wouldn’t be able to tear your eyes away from how your pussy stretched around his girthy cock

* Every thrust would make your tummy bulge, showing you just how deep he was

* He could definitely go multiple rounds

* Stamina 10/10

* He’s a definite Switch and a Pleasure Dom

* He loves taking control like his alpha instincts tell him

* But he also doesn’t mind letting you dote on him

* PRAISE KINK

* Call him a good boy and let him know how good he’s making you feel and he’s doing his best to make you feel even better

* He also loves when you ride his cock, saying sweet praises to him that made his toes curl

* “That cock’s s-so good, Joonie.”

* “I love that fat cock in my cunt.”

* “You’re gonna make me cum again.”

* “Such a good boy.”

* He’s definitely a whiny baby

* He’s most sensitive behind his ears

* Duh

* He’s a biter too

* Seeing the indents of his teeth all over your skin just did something to him

* He couldn’t mate you all the way so biting you was as close as he could get

* He plunges his entire cock into you when he’s about to cum

* He wants you to feel his cum deep in your stomach

* Yeah he had a bit of a breeding kink

* Could you blame him?

* Your cunt was always so wet and ready for him

* How could he not want to put a baby in you?

* Especially when you’d wrap your legs around his waist to keep him from pulling out

* “Fill me up. Wan’ all your cum.”

* He hated when his cum would leak out, quick to plug you back up with his fingers

* His protective nature wouldn’t even let you leave the bed

* Wrapping his arms around you and rubbing his scent all over your skin

* You’d indulge him for a moment but that sticky feeling would get uncomfortable for you very quickly

* He’d whine when you tried to get up, giving you those puppy dog eyes

* “Just a few more minutes.”

* “I want to clean your cum out of me.”

* It’s like a dagger through his heart

* “I’ll clean you.”

* “Your tongue doesn’t count, Namjoon.”

* After promises to make him his favorite meal, he’d release you

* But alas, your knees would give up on you

* Good thing your ever attentive boyfriend was there to carry you like the princess you were

* “You’re such a damsel in distress. You can’t even walk by yourself.”

* You’d huff and bite his collarbone in retaliation which would pull a moan from him

* “Hey, no biting. Bad girl.”

* “Woof.”

[joy-haver]

Happy national coming out day. Here’s my queerness update/inventory for the year.

Call it what you want, I’m datin like half of y’all anyway 🤷🏻‍♀️(I wrote this to send to my friends. The joke isn’t true of my tumble but fuck it, I’m keeping it in)

Gender feelings:

contextual. Complicated. Like a tradwife in a nonbinary way. Like a young boy on his first hunt. Like a grandmother on a porch. Like a grandfather telling stories. Like a mother, mothering. Like a father, failing and righteous. Like an aunt, not an uncle, I don’t know why. Like a priestess, but the kind you go to for wisdom. Like a healer. Like a 13th century farm wife to a roving herdsman. Genders that don’t exist in our social context. Genders that have never existed.

Gender presentations:

Usually very femme, I wear corsetts and skirts and dresses and have long hair. But I tend to pull masculine elements into it, and I don’t despise the masculine aspect of my being. Other times, shorts and a tshirt 🤷🏻‍♀️.

And I’m fat, which can be degendering or hyper gendering, depending. at this point I’m not sure what I pass as and how often and to who.

Biological sex:

As far as I’m aware, i am perisex, meaning I have no intersex conditions. (no notable or medicalized congenital [from birth] variations in my sexual characteristics (limited definition))

I have, however been on HRT for nearly 5 years. My hrt journey has been rather unique, and far different than anyone I’ve ever encountered. I’m not consistently on progesterone or antiandrgens, and I’ve stopped Estrogen twice for a few months due to shortages.

I have had no relevant surgeries.

I also had an abnormal initial puberty, and some weird stuff with that.

So I think it’s safe to say I’m no longer sufficiently “male”, but not quite anything else that’s defined. Which is nice.

(A)Sexuality:

contextual. Long periods of no sexual attraction being my baseline, and moderate periods where my baseline is sexual attraction. But there’s always veriation in the form of little peaks and hills and apparitions. It seems very tied to both my hormones and my bipolar disorder

Sexual attraction:

Idk y’all every time I define it I’m proved wrong. However, I can say that I find that it grows out of mutual desire, availability, accessibility, and a feeling of equality in a relationship. I like a verity of human bodies. But, I find myself incapable of more than fleeting sexual attraction to those I have power over (whether real power or perceived).

Romantic attraction: constantly, but differently than most folks. I’m attracted, first and foremost, to Earnest people. A variety of people. People who look like they know themselves well. People who don’t put me on a pedestal. People who love to grow. People who believe in harm reduction/prison abolition. People with strong values. But ultimately, I view romance as an activity you do, either with someone or about them, that produces certain feelings and realities of intimacy, and closeness, and soul sharing. To me, romance is the act of tying one’s souls together

Polyamory:

Goodness. I’m a relationship anarchist. I think I’ve taken that ideology and made it my own in many ways. It’s quite a bit more anarchistic, and spiritual? And religious? To me nowadays. It’s almost hard to define myself as polyamorous anymore, just because of how far removed I am from that framework due to the flexibility of my relationships.

What it means to me to be queer:

I’ve tried to answer with nuance and complexity in categories of gender, sexual attraction, aceness, sex, etc. i definitely could write like 20-25 pages minimum on each, but my hands are tired and I’m sure you are tired of reading.

But in reality, the most important aspect of my queerness is this: I seek to be in good community. With everyone, and everything, and every idea, In every singe way that I can.

I seek to undermine and outgrow all systems of harm and oppression. I seek to live freely, for the benefit of all people. I seek to meet my needs, for myself, and so that I can meet the needs of community.

That is queerness.

To be queer is not to be ace, trans, gay, intersex or polyamorous, or whatever identity. Not on it’s own, and not exclusively. To be queer is to live in earnest community, and plan for the future.

Because, what it means to not be queer in our society, to be normal, is that one is abiding by systems of domination. To live the prescribed life you have been given is to act in reaction, and to neglect the needs of all humanity, and all life on earth.

I don’t mean that if you are straight and cis and het and allo and perisex and monogamous that you are the enemy of the people. What I do mean is that if you live prescriptively by what our system has told you those mean, if you refuse to queer them, you are the enemy of the people.

And so,

to be queer is to be against the state.

To be queer is to LIVE against the state.

To be queer is to be in active,

good relations with all things,

and to purposefully undue the harms caused by empire, eugenics, domination, and white supremacy.

Happy coming out day, may your queerness grow every day, and every year.

[brockachu]

actually, shane wright being a bit of a dick and also expressing a normal human emotion makes me more invested in him and the Seattle Kraken!

the expectations and responsibilities placed on him as privileged white kid who will probably end up making more money than I can really conceive off may not be comparable to players of color’s experiences or my own but expressing frustration with them is a normal human reaction he should not be punished for.

lmaaooo so the thing is … if you have followed me long enough, you will know that i am a right ol bitch who in turn likes hockeys who are a little obstinate, a little rough spoken, or also just right ol bitches. not gonna delve into all of that bc that’s a can of worms about my psychology & imprinting behaviors. but point is — i feel that, anon. i could be convinced to be interested in whatever it is lil mr wright gets going over in seattle. of course, as a canucks fan, i also think it’d be fun for the VAN-SEA rivalry to take off. so i might have to make wright my gleeful lil enemy (i am also still waiting for mccann to declare his vendetta against VAN as the team that drafted him & cast him aside. i think narratively it would be very funny if we made our own worst nightmare. i also hated that he was traded so i think he deserves to be mean to us.) ANYWAY

look, yeah, i frankly think it is a Weird argument to be asking whether or not we can or should empathize with a privileged white kid just bc disadvantaged kids of color exist. like to begin with, that’s a fucked up framework that automatically puts people of color in a category that pities us instead of treating us with dignity & believing in our agency. like we should care about kids of color getting equal opportunity & equitable treatment bc they are ppl who we value, not bc we feel bad about them vs white kids (does that make sense? idk i should prolly be sleeping instead of drafting this answer). More Over, emphasizing again the things i said in my original post & the other answer — you don’t have to believe this guy (or anyone in a similar situation) is the best person or that he’s ‘not privileged’ (another not great framework) to just understand that hyper-criticizing behavior only reinforces a norm. a norm which many of us have expressed mild to complete disdain for — so why are we helping to reinforce it? and again, how strict we are about respectability on the most privileged in a group is Always enforced harshest on whoever is deemed expendable/not wanted by the hegemonic norm.

so yeah, i find it weird that y’all wanna get mad at this one white boy for saying a pretty lackluster thing to express his disappointment. and i think trying to police that reinforces a culture that doesn’t let anyone express themself, which tends to get enforced to the most extreme on players of color. and even if this were somehow just about him (which for the record, the culture we enforce on any individual is never in a vacuum), as stated here by this anon — expressing frustration or disappointment or just any emotion at all, just bc it’s not a ‘pleasant’ emotion, isn’t something i’m interested in villainizing.

[rosemarydisaster]

So, about Bi Caleb

Warning: very long post, discussing bi representation and biphobia.

*Sorry for spelling errors, English ain’t my firts language.

I can’t believe I have to tell you guys, but anyways: Caleb is bi whether he ends with a male character, a female character on a non binary character. That’s what bi people do, you know? they experience atraction for all genders. Saying that a bi character that ends with someone of the opposite gender is straight and queerbaiting is incredibly biphobic.

Yes, Vax was bisexual. Yes, he ended up with Kiki. Get fucking over it.

Now, I can understand why LGBT+ fans may feel disappointed when they tease a “gay couple” but the “straigth” couple ends up being endgame. Notice the quotation marks because there’s not such thing as a straight or gay couple for a bi person. They are bisexual in both situations, but I can see where the problem comes from. I’ve been queerbaited to hell and back by a lot of shows and it really hurts. It feels like they are laughting at you for caring. But I want those fans (whose feelings are totally valid, don’t get me wrong) to consider a few things when it comes to Critical Role, the first one being: it’s a D&D game.

Let me explain, because I know a lot of CR fans haven’t experienced what D&D is like in real life (and that’s absolutely valid, you don’t need to play D&D to enjoy CR). This is an improvisation game, not an scripted TV show. In a Tv show you can plan ahead of time what ship is going to be endgame, what themes are gonna come up for each character and it’s easier to deeply explore sexuality and gender as different planned arcs. In D&D you character’s sexuality may or may not come up depending on how you play it. Take for instance how other CR character’s have stated their sexuality:

Beau: overtly. Very *In your face* kind of lesbian. Marisha said “fuck it, I really just want to romance girls and be bad ass”

Yasha: openly, but not as in your face. Ashley Jhonson wanted to drink from that WLW cup while also being a shy disaster. Seafood market is her favored terrain.

Caduceus: Our Ace king has never hidden his sexuality, and yet he didn’t mention anything about it until chapter 114. He didn’t had the need to either hide it or state it. He was simply vibing.

I think Liam is going that route with Caleb. He’s flustered by Essek and Edwulf (Come on you guys, he always asks Matthew if he’s still hot). He also had/has a thing for Astrid and a think he might have feels for our favorite Tiefling gal. I know we are all too used to characters being teased as gay/bi only to have execs pull a “haha jk they be straight”. But this is not Sherlock or Supernatural. This is a show that not only has queer rep, but also supports queer organizations and creators. Hell, I’m sure some of the cast members are LGBT (but I’m not here to speculate on real people’s sexuality). If Caleb shows attraction to men he is not just queerbaiting, doing it for fanservicing or tricking the fans in any way shape or form: he’s just portraying a bi character. The thing is, since this is not a TV show, he is not doing it por woke points or to send a message. He’s doing it because he wants to play a bi wizard with depression.

So maybe there will be a point in which he can explores his sexuality more deeply, but remember he is playing a game. And his character is one that has a lot of trouble opening up to his feelings. Caleb is not someone that makes sexual jokes or flirty remarks. He is shy, awkward and has developed a really fucked up sense of love that he is now slowly fixing. Hell, in the same Talks episode Liam explained that Caleb was trained on Honey-pot tactics. Which, for those of you who can’t stand Bond films, means seducing your enemy/target to get information, manipulate them or assassinate them. WHICH IS A REALLY FUCKED UP THING! Let’s remember how he was the one to push Fjord to sleep with Advantica so they could spy on her. That boy has Issues when it comes to relationships. So if we don’t see him being as overtly gay as Beau, Molly or Yasha, well maybe it’s because that’s the way Caleb is. Bi people don’t owe you flamboyance, or dating both guys and gals for your approval. I wouldn’t make a post if it was only that, because I do feel the people who are aching for good bi rep and would love some more explicit confirmation. But Vax exists, so I know we can’t have good things down here.

VAX EXPLICITELY SHOWED ATTRACTION TO GILMORE. AS EXPLICIT AS IT GETS. HE FUCKING KISSED HIM. THEY WERE PRACTICALLY DATING. AND YET SOME OF YOU FUCKERS CALL HIM QUEERBAITING. AND I SAY: NOT ON MY WATCH! NOT ON MY FUCKING WATCH!!

How come a character can have canonically kissed another character in a romantic/sensual context and still be called straight? I know fucking Sherlock traumaticed y’all into having trust issues but believe me when I tell you: I’ts not that deep. This is not a “Haha I love u but in a no homo way bro”. It’s a “full homo darling, but also we’re gonna break up because I like someone else”. This is the opposite of queerbaiting. Instead of keeping a charade he was honest with Gilmore because he valued his feelings and realized that he couldn’t reciprocate them at that moment. And if you try to tell me that Vaxleth was forced and didn’t have a reason to exist except queerbaiting, let me tell you: you are wrong.

Vax saw Gilmore once or twice monthly while he spent a heck ton of time with Kiki. Sure, they didn’t had the kind of camera chemistry Gilmore and Vax had because Keyleth is not charismatic. She’s really awkward, and her relationship with Vax was more on the adorable and dorky side of things. I bring this up because I’m predicting something similar may happen to Shadowgast.

Trust me, I ship the hot wizards as much as any other critter (even though I’m a multishipper). But they haven’t talked to Essek in centuries. I think it may have been almost a month in rol and quite a few outside. And you have to take into account out-rol time to because they are humans (except Tal) playing a game and they forget about stuff (except Marisha and Matt). So Shadowgast may not happen because sure, they had really good chemistry for a month a month ago. People have crushes that die down over time All The Time. So maybe don’t be so butthurt about your ship not being canon that you accuse an ally of homophobia. 

The cast of CR put forward such an amazing representation for the LGBT+ community and it really hurts me that you gets stuck on the one thing that isn’t canon. Matt has created a world in which coming out is not necessary because no one assumes your sexuality. A world in which people respect pronouns and orientations (except Tary’s father, who is a villain). A world in which Cad or Caleb don’t need to explicitly say “I’m ace/bi” unless it comes up in conversation. A world in which his friends can be whatever they want to be without pressure or reprecusions. A world in which they get to explore different gender identities and sexual orientations with full freedom. Let’s not interfere with that (unless there’s missrepresentation), and let them play their game. If you really need mlm or wlw canon couples or more outwardly LGBT+ people you have plenty examples among NPCs and other cast members (Allura and kima, Yasha, Beau, Dairon, Keg, Reani, Tary, Molly and Vax among others).

There’s way worst shows taking LGBT+ cred for barely doing nothing. Fucking Supernatural is the most recent example! Critical Role works towards showing an honest portrayal of LGBT+ folk and accepts valid criticism from their fans on the subject (when they changed J’Mon Sa Ord pronouns from it to they/them). They don’t owe you making your ship canon or portraying their characters the way you want them to (again, unless when it’s constructive criticism). Stop being so Fucking entitled and enjoy the show for what it is

,Respectfully~

*Edit: I´m tagging Caleb’s ships into the post because most hate comes from shipping wars. Most Shadowgast fans are respectful of the cast’s decisions, even if it disappoints them. But since I’ve already seen people accusing Liam of biphobia in that tag and since I’ve already seen this shit with Vaxmore I’m tagging the ship. If you want to read my long ass post do it, if not, ignore it. I’m not forcing you to read it. I’ve also tagged it with biphobia so people can avoid it if it’s triggering. I’m sorry if it makes you mad that your ship is not canon, but that’s not an excuse to be toxic to the cast. Those of you getting mad are the ones that need to read this the most. Like I’ve said in the post: you’re allowed to be disappointed, you are allowed to want more, but you can’t force the cast to give you exactly what you want. And most certainly, you can’t accuse them of  some very serious stuff like biphobia and queerbaiting when it’s not the case..  

[hopeymchope]

Wonder Egg Priority finale thoughts

My Tumblr has a lot of anti-bully content, so it was probably no surprise when I began to watch and enjoy Wonder Egg Project this past spring. The series famously hit production delays that forced them to put out a mid-series recap episode, and that decision in turn forced them to push the final episode until late June. But now that the series (or at least season 1) is out there and complete, I thought I’d talk about how it all shook out in the end as well as the questions it left me sitting with.

For the uninitiated, here’s a bit of the context: Wonder Egg Project deals with four middle-school teen girls who’ve undergone hardships either at home or at school or both. They all lose someone they care about to tragic suicides, and then they discover the titular wonder eggs. They get these eggs from a vending machine and then, when they fall asleep, they enter a dreamworld where these eggs hatch to reveal a young person who recently committed suicide. For that night, it is the duty of the girl who got that egg to fight and defend that suicide victim from monstrous enemies that represent their abusers and oppressors. The girls are told that if they protect enough of these victims over many nights, they will be able to resurrect the specific person they lost to suicide. But of course, if you get injured or killed in the dreamworld, it affects your body in reality as well. 

The squad: Ai, Neiru, Rika, and Momoe.

Obviously, bullying is among the topics most frequently explored here, but we also deal with so many other terrible things that people might experience during childhood and adolescence. Physical, verbal, and sexual abuse are all on the table. Coming to terms with one’s gender identity is raised. It’s a show that manages to tackle a lot of heavy subjects through the lens of what’s essentially magical girl combat. I mean, there are no outfit transformations or any of that stuff, but still.

With THAT out of the way, let me talk about how the series wrapped up.

It’s clear to the viewers that there’s a lot that doesn’t make sense during the show — it’s intentionally very trippy and ethereal at times — and there’s also a lot that raises obvious questions even if you grasp it. Where do the eggs and their connection to the recently deceased come from? How do the psychological traumas of the various egg-children manifest as monsters that can literally kill you? What’s the deal with Acca and Ura-Acca and their freaky dummy bodies? What are they getting out of this whole deal with the eggs and the girls? What do the repeated references to the “temptation of death” mean? How does access to the Egg Garden even work? Is it really possible to resurrect their dead friends? Is Mr. Sawaki a predator or a chill guy or what? Why did Neiru’s sister stab her? And so on. 

The writers could’ve opted to keep things mysterious and hazy and metaphysical for the entire run or they could’ve provided lots of explanations and tried to ground this weird story in some sort of strange logic, but I’m actually pleased that they opted to go down the middle. There are answers for many things, but not for all. And when those answers come, they typically just raise more questions as well as doubts to their validity. 

SPOILERS for the finale/”special episode” below the cut.

So, obviously the answers for Acca and Ura-Acca are centered around Frill. Frill is this interesting fusion between the artificial and the organic; her body can be injured like any regular physical body, but she’s actually an A.I. on the inside. Acca and Ura-Acca are the exact reverse of this — they’re human minds inside of completely artificial bodies. Exactly how Frill started invading girls’ minds to lure them towards suicide is kept incredibly vague, but she serves as the embodiment of the “temptation of death” that was so-often referenced in the show. Frill doesn’t really appreciate life or care about the finality of death, making her a pretty natural foe for the heroes who have spent the entire series learning to appreciate their lives and bemoaning painful losses.

Can you even believe this bitch?

Acca and Ura-Acca also have documents talking about how warriors of Eros need to battle against Thanatos, the embodiment of death, but what’s that all about? We don’t really get into it. Is Frill somehow Thanatos herself? I mean... I guess maybe you could go that route, but I sincerely don’t think that’s meant to be the case. I assume she’s just another player in the game, and she happens to have taken Thanatos’ side in things. Her artificial existence and resentment of her fathers leads her to treat death flippantly. She was programmed to be selfish sometimes, and that selfishness has ultimately manifested itself in the worst possible ways. Intriguingly, we see Acca and Ura-Acca act similarly selfish in how they drive our four heroes to risk their lives just to battle Frill. Acca in particular shows that he’ll risk anyone’s life to get to Frill, who killed both his wife and daughter. But Acca never has to risk his own life. He’s just risking other people. Both sides of the equation are treating human lives like disposable pawns in some kind of war game. 

Y’all are SUPER-SKETCH.

It’s never really clear how these eggs work. We’re told that the Accas created the eggs, and honestly, I could’ve figured as much on my own. But they don’t try to explain how the eggs can contain the souls of suicide victims or how they manifest those people into dreams, and frankly, it’s probably better not to try.

I was really shocked that the girls actually manage to resurrect their dead friends. I was 100% certain that was going to be a scam and the point was going to be about learning to move on and live for the moment and appreciate those bonds while you had them, etc. And there is some of that. Alas, the price of resurrecting those people they care about is that the people in question no longer know them or remember them. That was pretty brutal... having our heroes nearly die over and over in service of people who ultimately will no longer care about them at all. Although they did the impossible and brought someone back to life, they had to lose those people all over again. I suppose this, like much fo the finale, emphasizes that we should appreciate our relationships while they last, because you can lose them for so many reasons. Regardless, I’m not surprised that Momoe just wanted to quit and avoid getting hurt after that. It’s understandable.

There’s a lot of discussion around parallels in the last two episodes. Parallel worlds with alternate versions of the self are raised multiple times, Ai gets an awesome encounter with a parallel version of herself that really brought her emotional journey to a head, and we even have to deal with a doppleganger of Neiru at the end. This leads to the revelation that Neiru looks exactly like her formerly deceased sister... a fact that presumably was part of what drove the sister to attack Neiru in the first place. Given that we’ve already been told that they were both genetically engineered, their identical appearances don’ seem that strange. But then the finale tells us that Neiru’s one dream is “to be human,” and suddenly the characters assume Neiru was an A.I. just like Frill. That... seems like a leap to me. I mean, she was genetically engineered to lead her company and never had a family of her own; no wonder she feels inhuman! So I’m not sure if I should take this at face value.

Neiru real or fake challenge

Another thing that I don’t think we can take at face value is Mr. Sawaki’s explanation of Koito’s death. In episode 12, we meet a parallel version of Ai who actually killed herself. The big boss monster for Ai to fight while protecting Alt-Ai? It’s a dark, abusive version of Sawaki. And our Ai inexplicably assumes this monster was made from her own fears. A very bizarre conclusion to jump to when you remember that every single boss monster has been the abuser of the victim that the girls were defending in that episode. By all available evidence, the Sawaki monster should be a parallel-world Sawaki who is very much exactly the scumbag he appears to be! Notice how Alt-Ai never says a damn word about the Sawaki Monster - never asks who he is or why he’s like this, etc? She’s not even surprised. That just lends further credence to my belief. FOLLOW THE EVIDENCE.

So in the finale, when our version of Mr. Sawaki claims (via a VERY awkwardly inserted voiceover) that Koito’s death was an accident after she tried to ruin his reputation because she fell in love with him, why should I believe any of it?! The previous episode introduced me to Abusive Sawaki! Sure, we don’t have any reason to assume our Sawaki is That Dick, but we JUST learned that he’s certainly capable. Furthermore, how could Koito suddenly be the ONLY accidental death among all of the available suicide victims in the dreamworld? She shouldn’t have even appeared there if it was just an accident! Although I’d like to believe that Sawaki was someone who Ai and the girls were jumping to conclusions about based on nothing... but it sure doesn’t look that way from here. And given how the show ends things, I fear we may have a hard time learning anything else about Sawaki. Ai changes schools and runs away, there is zero comment on what happened to Sawaki’s relationship with her mom... he’s just gone now.

As the final episode winds down, we see Rika and Ai fall back into bad habits, as they all treat Neiru just like they treated the girls they tried so hard to save. Rika acts disgusted by a friend and abandons her, treating Neiru the same way she treated Cheimi. When Neiru finally reaches out to Ai and calls her, Ai ignores the call and throws her phone away, thereby ignoring her friend’s needs in the same way she ignored Koito’s when she failed to record the bullying Koito was experiencing. You might even be able to connect Momoe’s choice to walk away for the sake of self-preservation to her decision to reject Haruka and walk away, honestly. And to compound the bad news that the show gives us near the end, we skip forward months to learn that Ai, Rika and Momoe have all drifted apart. Ai is in a new school, but we don’t see her with any new friends. She’s back where she started the show.

The difference, however, is that she doesn’t seem hopeless and lonely. She seems wistful, sure, but she never seems beaten down. She still treasures the friendships she built even if they wind up fading away. So there’s still a message in here about moving on, because even if you lose a person or a connection, it will forever matter.

*insert engine rev-up noises*

In the final moments, we see Ai preparing to run in the exact same pose she used back in episode 1 when she first stood up to the abusers within the dreamworld. This time, she runs to grab her chance to reunite with a dear friend. She takes charge of her own future and her own self-worth, somehow gets back into the Egg Garden (even though Rika wasn’t even allowed to enter after she rescued her specified victim, so uh... how did Ai get back in exactly... ?), and insists she’s going to use the eggs to see Neiru... even though the eggs only let you see the dead up to this point, so uh, that doesn’t really make any sense either. Consistency, motherfucker — DO YOU USE IT?

Amidst all the uncertainty that the finale left us with, at least we can see Ai find herself in a more confident place. She spends much of the series learning to stop running from her problems in the real world. Even after she gains confidence in the battles of her dreams, she struggles to face reality. It’s a huge step when she returns to school. Yet even in the very last episode, she opts to run away to a new school rather than cope with seeing Koito each day. But at last, she decides to take charge of her reality and try to reunite with her new best friend, Neiru. She’s wavered on her path, but ultimately, she’s grown. Although you could simultaneously argue that she’s failing to learn the lesson that rescuing Koito should’ve taught her...

“Ai Ohto is BACK!”

I don’t think any of us expected this finale to be a cliffhanger coming into it.  And unfortunately, we don’t know if there will ever be another season or a movie or anything. Given how people reacted to this finale with such overt hate, I really don’t expect anything more. And I think that would be a goddamn shame. Even with a finale that doesn’t quite stick the landing, I still found it fascinating and engaging. The series is more than worth the trip for the characters, for the themes and topics it explores, and even for the fluid action scenes and music. And this is a series that was made by first-time writers and a first-time director! Yet I’d easily call it one of the best animes from the past couple of years. For total newcomers, that’s a goddamn TRIUMPH.

So I hope we reunite with these girls again. I hope Ai manages to get the band back together, find out exactly what’s going on with Neiru, and face down Frill. Even if they never wind up in some ultimate battle with Thanatos, I don’t know that that’s the point. All of us are in a battle with Thanatos every single day, after all. They just need to show how they’ve all gotten stronger together and truly overcome the “Temptation of Death” by beating back Frill (and her ridiculously powerful dreamworld bug-people) as a unit. 

But maybe that’s too obvious and simplistic of a message for a show like this one. Maybe this complex ending centered on the main protagonist’s self-actualization and the value of fleeing relationships is more in keeping with the melancholy nature of the series. 

... I still really want to see the more obvious happy ending, though. I think they deserve it.

[lilacandladybugs]

“[Your God] raised me, demanded my unquestioning devotion to him, told me that my value lay in my obedience, and my future in servitude (x).”

Okay first of all I’m so so sorry that anyone has made you think this is true. I’m so sorry that there have been people who have used the Bible against you and that they’ve used it to control you and abuse you and lie to you and you have every right to be enraged. I just, I just want to explain what I believe about God, because I feel like the way the Bible is used to hurt people is so heretical and cruel that it would be wrong for me to not say anything about who God really is.. Because it also. Like as someone who is a Christian it would be creepy and wrong of me to be worshipping that God and I don’t want you to think that’s true.

The thing about most of these concerns is that they’re about framing. If God is not just, loving, merciful, if God is not trustworthy, if humans don’t have free will, and if our relationship with God is a commandment and not an invitation, then this is 100% true,, like I’m not trusting that God lol 

If we are not allied with the person who is directing our lives then of course it is bitter and controlling and terrible. 

But the thing is that from a Christian worldview, this isn’t how it is. If you have an internally consistent worldview, God is not demanding anything. We were designed to be in a relationship with God. And he isn’t like a /person/ really, he’s God. He was before there was anything, he is unchanging and powerful and knowing and loving. He is the ultimate premise on which all other premises reside, his is the source of logic, knowledge, wisdom, and goodness. Life exists because God exists. Love exists not because God /created/ love, but because love as a concept is a natural result of God existing.

So there isn't an active threat that something bad will happen apart from God. There simply is nothing apart from God. Badness and goodness and pain and pleasure aren’t opposites on a scale so much as one is the absence of the other, like how cold is just the absence of heat.

So when we say that life is miserable and crumbles apart from God, it isn’t an active action God is taking to punish us from running away from him. He isn’t just a person, he’s like the foundation of the Universe and he’s the source of everything good. People are not actively hurt or punished for walking away from God, walking away from God causes us to die because we’re literally cutting ourselves off from the giver of life. 

This metaphor breaks down really quickly, but a flower isn’t being abused by a bush when it falls off and dies. That’s just what happens when flowers get cut off of bushes, apart from their source of life, they wither.

So God does not /demand/ that we obey him. Free will exists within our relationship to the extent that is possible. We are fully capable of walking away from God, and he knew that when he made us. No loving relationship is based in control, so he didn’t control us. He allowed us to do what we want, because that is in his nature. God is loving.

But it isn’t compatible with living, to walk away from our source of life. Like pouring water into a gas tank and then trying to run a car, if we aren’t doing what our bodies and minds were designed to do, we are going to crash and burn. And it isn’t like God created us with the intent of making us die without him, because remember he isn’t a person. There simply isn’t anything without him, so there isn’t any way for us to exist apart from him. The realm of living things simply does not extend beyond God.

Now the difference between obedience, servitude, and relationship is also purely perspective. The difference, again, is free will. If we /choose/ to be in a relationship with God, if we choose to let him be our director, if we trust him, then it is a relationship. I’m not sure if y’all have seen Attack on Titan, but the Scouts relationship with Erwin is technically one of obedience. They obey him even to the point of death, they submit to his command. 

But they love Erwin, they trust him, they respect him, they know that Erwin is going to do what he thinks is best for them and for humanity. They don’t need all the answers because they are so convinced of who Erwin is that they are willing to die for him. They bet their lives on that belief in Erwin’s character.

That is like my relationship with God. I do not do anything I do out of fear or because I was manipulated into doing it, I do everything I do as a result of trust and overwhelming devotion to God. I am willing to do anything he says because I bet my life in by belief in God’s character.

The other thing is that when God is given absolute power over your life, he makes it better. Not that you don't exist or have a will or a personality, but that when you submit fully to God that's the state humans were designed to be in. It makes you more you than you than you have ever been. C.S. Lewis used the analogy of salt. If you taste salt you might think it would overwhelm whatever you put it on but actually it just enhances the flavor. So imagine God is like salt but better because you can't add too much of God and he always makes it better.

Now being created in the image of God will need to be a different post but Obviously humans have value. Hopeful people don’t say that they don’t (although genuinely wouldn’t be surprised if they do D:) Jesus wouldn't have died if humans didn't have value to him. In economics, the value of something is what you are willing to pay for it. When Jesus died, he was proving that the value God places on us is himself. So since God doesn't see us as valueless, we have value (remember God isn’t really a person, he is the ultimate premise and the definer of many inherent truths like logic, love, and morality).

That's also why we can trust him to take care of us, fill us, and use us for good purpose is because he does value us.

So it's not about just letting God do whatever he wants to (although it's kind of true) it's about how God wants to be in a relationship with you where he protects loves and develops you according to his will.

Protection is a human term but idk what else to use because my point is that God's plans for you are better than yours ever could possibly be, even if they involve pain, the end result is blessing that's beyond your wildest imagination, and the invitation is, what are you willing to bet that God will make good on his promise? He won't take more control than you give him but he has promised to use everything you give him to create something wonderful.

So yeah it's ok to only give your pinky and he'd do AMAZING things with just your pinky but imagine if you gave him everything.

The other thing about God is that he isn’t going to pressure you and he /understands/ he made your brain and your body and your personality and all the people around you he understands better than you why things are hard for you. He's not going to walk up and demand you do everything he says, he's  /gentle/ he's the safest person you can have.

It's more like he's training a deer to trust him, you know? He's respectful and he gives you nice treats and gives you resources and teaches you his voice. He's not going to be mad if you're scared of him. He's just excited and encouraging you that he's trustworthy.

[quitethepirategal]

An Analysis in Threes

❥ TAGGED BY: @emcads​ like 30 years ago ❥ TAGGING: @riidcr​ @starsailingcaptain​ @covencrown​ @hookd​ @all-fleshed-out​ @evermxre​ @motherofredemption​ @bup1957​ @conquistadoradelmar​ @seaprofound​ @tcthinecwnself​ @withinycu​ @windguided​ @daevilhorns​ @concordia-cum-sinistro​ and YOU and I spent like 8 hours on this so pLEASE READ IT PLEASE I AM BEGGING I NEED VALIDATION I’M-

     repost don’t reblog. yall dont have to type this much.

MUSE: Captain Red Handed Jessica

Three Strengths:

     Her adaptability and resourcefulness.  Is she brave, yes.  Is she lucky, also yes.   But over all, she can roll with the cards she’s been dealt in a way that many would call inhumanly clever.  Her intelligence, her perception, and her charisma are all different ingredients of this indomitable characteristic of hers.  She can see the value in just about anything and anyone, can pick up on clues and tangents few others can follow, and can remember seemingly endless details, tho unfortunately not on command.  But even then, her patchy memory seems to contribute to this adaptability as well, as it usually allows for detachment.  If she can find resources everywhere, it means she can survive everywhere. There have been countless times where the wheel of fortune has suddenly turned on her and she’d lost near everything and her response was more or less Damn, ok I need food water and shelter lets go.  No food?  Grow food.  No water?  Ask someone if they have water.  No shelter?  Sleep outside.  No money?  Steal money.  Can’t hear anymore?  Cool I can use loud weapons.  Crashed on an island?  My island now.  Shot?  Free bullet.  She knows when to push, she knows when to quit, and sometimes she knows when to gamble based on her ability ( what a man can do and what he can’t do and all that ).  Strong she may be, she knows its foolish to rely on strength.  Survival of the fittest actually rarely means survival of the strongest. ( edit; this is the theme for the entirety of her character. I will say it 50,000 times. I am very sorry ).  And as a student of philosophy and biology, she understands that phrase better than most. Leading to our next point.

     Her understanding.  As I stated, her charisma is something unmatched, and is a key element in all three of her strengths.  This charisma might not exist as prominently were it not for her ability to understand.  She has limited ( I’ll get back to that ) but deep running empathy and while not terribly observant all the time, she is always perceptive.  Not only that, but she’s personally known abuse, hardship, and uncertainty, and understands that hate or anger can be rooted in similar pain.  She was schooled lightly in both Christian and Buddhist values before diving heavily into democratic philosophy, meaning she believes all being experience suffering and therefore kindness is a powerful sign of strength, but also that suffering while free and equal is better than comfort in oppression.  And between her sweet words and beautiful face, she can get most people to open up in ways they themselves my not have expected.  Being very good with people means she can learn from them, gain something from them, lead them, and/or use them.  But Jessica isn’t a manipulator in truth; her intentions are almost always kind or healthy ones.  She absolutely uses people from time to time but not EVER without them consenting to or being made aware of such because again, unlike a manipulative person, she understands that can ruin a relationship and therefore ruin a resource.  What it makes for is an excellent leader, a beloved captain, and a trusted ally at most and an excellent conversationalist at the least.      But her understanding isn’t just social, oh no.  It’s academic as well.  Armed only with his little library and the lessons of his own teachers, Jessica’s foster father tirelessly smithed her into a not just a girl who knew a lot of things, but a truly intelligent, thinking mind. He’d die before learning he’d succeeded tenfold.  Jessica isn’t one to just except things as they are, facts or otherwise.  She usually needs to prove it, experiment, see things from a new angle.  Debates with her are fun!  She has no issue admitting she’s wrong or confessing she’s never thought of it that way, and is actually wrong a lot of the time.  It doesn’t bruise her ego, it excites her.  It means there’s more to learn.  And her ability to constantly understand new concepts paired with her ability to overwhelmingly understand people combine to make for a very powerful core idea of hers:  We are fittest to survive because we all fit together.  Our humanity, our empathy, our community are our strengths because they keep us united, which keeps us the fittest.  No one is independent, no man is an island.  People are power. And thus her final strength is just that.

     Her power.  While she and I still firmly state that strength isn’t everything don’t be disillusioned; its very goddamn important.  And it’s something Jessica has plenty of.  She is durable and clever because of her rocky early childhood, she is quick and versatile from her youth in a pirate port, she is physically strong and mighty from her years training in martial arts, and she’s an absolute crackshot after years of diligent practice with her trusty pistols.  Her true strength may lie in her brains and in her allies yes, but even without them, Red Jessica is a powerhouse of a warrior.  She can end fights extremely quickly or run from them without a prayer of catching her ( no shame in the later, both skills keep you alive ).  And it may be in bad taste to say, but ever since loosing most of her hearing, Jess swears up and down it’s made her vision better, her reaction time faster, and her quick thinking even quicker.  Yes of course she’s slowed down with age, but a bullet shoots at the same speed no matter how old you are.  And you best hope she didn’t bring her firecrackers, because while sudden loud noises will absolutely temporarily discombobulate or debilitate an opponent with healthy hearing, it’ll hardly effect her at all and suddenly, you’re a sitting duck.  You see those thighs?  You see those calves?  She can crush PINEAPPLES with them!  People have seen her do it!  Do you know how many micro-fractures broke and rebuilt those hands?  Thousands!  She can crush a trachea like a fucking beer can!  She can kick you to death!  One ill placed curb stomp and you are DECEASED.  Sometimes she’ll just psyche you out because she KNOWS you know she can kill your stupid ass!       But while her strength, mental and physical, have always been there, her power is relatively new.  As stated before, people are power.  Not knowledge, not money, not strength.  People.  She’s a fearsome warrior but she’d be useless if outnumbered.  Shes a very successful pirate, but she’d never make it out of port without a crew on her ship.  She found a gorgeous island, but it’d still be wild without those who built it’s piers and buildings.  She manages orchards and tends to them and harvests them herself, but she would loose all of her crop without the helping hands of her employed farmers.  And like I mentioned, she deeply understands this.  Freedom is not independence or vice versa.  Did you make the clothes on your back or the fabric that made those clothes?  Did you write the books you read to make you smarter or teach you that skill?  Did you plant the seed years ago that grew that orange you’re eating?  No, of course not.  Jessica didn’t either.  Another human did.  We all need each other to fill the holes in our lives that we can’t fill ourselves.  Humans are puzzle pieces in that way, there is no bigger picture or prayer for survival on our own.  And because of this, we can do anything we as a community, as a SPECIES work together to achieve.  There is no knowledge if there’s no one to learn from, there is no money if a society don’t give it value, your money is worthless if those you’re paying decide to rise against you, your role as leader only exists at the consent of those you lead, and your strength won’t save you from a sinking ship.  People are, and always will be, power.       And as someone who is exceptionally strong and exceedingly smart, Jessica has slotted herself in the humanity puzzle thusly: The strong exist to protect the weak, the smart exist to educate, and the lucky exist so the unlucky may be given aid.  And it is with this fairness and compassion that she has won the trust of so many.  She has a great many friends and allies even outside of those in her crew or on her island.  And she can make many more with ease.  That kind of power is not a power to be trifled with, even if she can kick your ass six ways to Saturday without it. 

Three Weaknesses:

     She suffers ADHD.  Now before ANY OF Y’ALL SAY ANYTHING, I myself also suffer ADHD.  And yes I do say suffer because well that’s what it causes for Jessica and I, suffering.  Yes, it is ableist language to say ‘suffering from’ rather than ‘has’ or ‘is diagnosed with’ and yes it perpetuates a stigma against us but god DAMN IT in both Jessica’s case and mine, it make life much much harder than it needs to be.  At the end of the day, Red Jessica is a fantasy of mine; I pour myself into her whether I mean to or not.  She’s the adult I wish I was, the person I might be if I had no anxiety, or brainfog, or lived in a world were I didn’t need a credit score or a degree. And even then, I can’t say I know anyone else’s problems better than my own.  So if my character has problems, by sheer osmosis they are going to reflect some of mine.  Both of the characters I write have ADHD because I have ADHD and I couldn’t even begin to know how a non-ADHD mind works to write it properly.  And no, I’m not being dramatic when I say it causes me suffering.  I can’t drive, I can’t hold down a job, I nearly flunked out of school, I still cant read very fast or spell very well, I am constantly overwhelmed by mundane things, I’m a slow learner, I forget very important things or recent things, I forget about things that mean the world to me, I forget about people, I stumble through tasks, I procrastinate hobbies and basic hygiene, and everything I do takes all goddamn day and I can only really do one important thing at a time and in order of importance.  If I have a date at 4pm, I’m dressed and ready at 11am because I’ve gotta do the important thing first or else I will forget to do the important thing.  I started typing this at a little before 5pm.  It’s 7;30.  It’ll probably be 10 o’clock at night by the time I fucking finish ( edit: l m a o its 1am bitch you thought ).  I’m 26 and am just medicated enough to barely function.  So yeah.  Suffering is the word.       Though for Jessica, perhaps suffering is a tad strong of a word.  Her ADHD affects her ability to function in far less debilitating ways ( though whether that’s a result of a less severe diagnosis than me or the result of the society, situations, and responsibilities she functions in and around are far different from mine, who’s to say ).  For her, she has very consuming hyperfixations that can last anywhere between weeks to decades, a spotty memory that is detail and memento oriented,  she’s scatterbrained more often then not but can focus with amazing clarity on her interests or in high adrenaline situations, is is ABYSMALLY bad at math and EXCRUCIATINGLY bad with numbers ( as opposed to me, who is good at numbers but shit at spelling or reading ), she can forget anything no matter how important it is to her or to anyone, she’s bad with names and dates, is COMPLETELY time-blind, has trouble prioritizing, and of course, wile not actually that materialistic, she absolutely has the ol’ magpie instinct.       While her poor memory assists in her adaptability and ability to move on, it also means she forgets things she needed to remember, like when the last time she bathed was and who this person is and what happened between her and someone else or what conversation’s shes had.  Unfortunately this means she’s a very good friend and leader... while you’re around and interacting with her on at least a weekly basis.  It’s almost a lack of object permanence in both a social and very real sense.  If something is not right in front of her, odds are she’s not going to think about it.  And while its something she constantly kicks herself for and actively tries to be better about, it applies to people too.  Face to face is the best way to interact with her; she won’t think to write you and in her modern verse she won’t think to ever call and she’ll text you back in perhaps a few days.  She doesn’t value you any less, I promise.  She’s just either distracted or overwhelmed.  Also, for someone as understanding as her, she is surprisingly self-centered.  Not selfish, self-centered.  She’ll talk about herself more than she should, and will assume people understand that she’s doing so as a form of showing empathy rather than bragging when they may not know this at all.  Actually she accidentally assumes all the time.  It was far worse when her hearing was functional; she’d finish your sentence for you or guess what it was you were going to say ( again, not to talk over, you but to show she understands you and the conversation, tho it usually came of as annoying or patronizing ).  Sometimes she mistakenly assumes you believe or know the same things she does without even realizing it.  Maybe she perceives the right idea off of someone but isn’t observant enough to notice anything past that.  And while she is willing to change her mind about things, she might change her mind a tad too quickly.  She’s an over-sharer and is horrible at keeping any kind of secret.  Romantic relationships tend to fizzle out. Her impulse control is improving but has a VERY long way to go. She’s always chasing something new.       All and all, when you’re a pirate, a librarian, or even a captain, all of these things may be irritating and inconvenient, but are overall manageable in chunks.  ...But as a governor to her island, as a leader of an entire population... oof. In the position of leadership that she’s in, she can’t afford to make too many massive mistakes, and she knows this.  ‘There is no power quite like the power of being underestimated’ is a phase you’ll hear her say a lot but for her, there is a shift in connotation.  If people expect less and you do more that’s a great upper hand in any situation but for her, it was a safety net.  Having ADHD sometimes means going months or years being fine and then eventually you fuck up and everyone around you wonders how in the world you managed to do that.  She has only barely avoided disaster more times than she’d like to admit.  Even with the resourcefulness, the understanding, and the power she wields, she’s finally starting to realize that she’s bit off more than she might be able to chew, with the entire well-beings and livelihoods of others on the line.  And she fears that one day she’ll play her cards wrong and everything she’d built, everything she’s done, will all come crashing down in ruin.

     She is Hard of Hearing.  This one is literally as simple as it sounds: she has moderate and degenerative hearing loss and tinnitus after years of canons, explosions, gunshots, and a definitive, scale tipping attack in her early 30s.  Her ears just don’t work at all like they used to.  The whole world sounds like it would if everything was underwater: she can’t pin point the location of sounds, how far off or close sounds are, and barely registers changes in volume. And it only gets worse the older she gets; one day she won’t hear anything at all.  And while yes, again, it might be very harsh and ableist to say, the truth of the matter that being deaf a “ weakness ” more often than its a strength.       That said, it very well can be a strength.  I’ve already mentioned that trick with the firecrackers and let me tell you it is a DAMN EFFECTIVE TRICK.  Shes around explosions and canons and guns all the time and now she can focus while being around them five times better than she could in the past!  But unfortunately it also means she’s very easy to sneak up on, she sometimes isn’t aware of danger until it’s nearly too late,  no one can get her attention or warn her across any distance, it’s very easy to escape from her, and it’s easy for her to be just... left out of things.  She might hear you talking, but she has little to no idea what you’re saying without sign or lipreading.  Some people don’t have the patience or even just the courtesy to speak slower, or clearer, or repeat themselves a lot.  Though, those last too thinks aren’t weaknesses of hers so much as they are the weakness of others, but they still negatively affect her self esteem and her effectiveness as a leader.       All of this has taught her to pick her battles carefully, and plan around the elements of surprise and discombobulation.  And while communication was tricky at first, it only got easier, and now she can talk to you almost like anyone can, so long as she’s looking you in the face. 

     That damn bleeding heart.  We have established a number of things that should easily add up to an overly empathetic, trusting, fight-the-good-fight, martyr-some, idealistic pushover;  she believes humanity and kindness are strengths, she has taken on the role of leader and then a provider, she has known suffering and tasked herself with ending the suffering of others to the best of her ability,  she lacks the clarity of mind to assume people aren’t just as good or capable as her automatically, she can have poor impulse control at times,  she wants to have relationships, and ( while I never stated this outright yet it can be inferred  ), she believes that being able to see yourself in others is the foundation of humanity and ( as i did say outright ) humanity is what keeps us unified and unity is what makes us fit and strong.  Keeping up?  Good. Here’s the curve ball: How can she whole hardheartedly preach and believe all of this, to the point of it being the foundation of her character, WHILE BEING A VIOLENT THIEVING AND BLOODTHIRSTY PIRATE?!  HOW, MANGO? HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE?! MAKE IT MAKE SENSE!!  Ok, fine, sure, I will. I’m sure about one half of you are looking up from the screen and going “ Oh yeah, wow I totally forgot that bit. “ and the other half got about two and a half paragraphs in before squinting and silently calling bullshit. So let me explain.      In short, she’s a detached hypocrite and is well aware and unashamed of her hypocrisy while far less aware of her detachment. I’ll cover both:  Western culture as a whole seems to be under the impression that hypocrisy, despite context or importance, is automatically bad.  I don’t know where this comes from personally ( my bet is Christianity but I have exactly 0 evidence ) but its a very... flawed idea.  Take the freedom of speech vs racism problem; say you owned a bar where all could speak their mind freely over cold drinks.  Excellent concept without context, right?  Sure. ....Then a die hard racist covered in slurs and symbols walks in and orders- what are you going to do?  The correct answer is to throw him out instantly.  Not let him sit so long as he doesn’t cause trouble, not just ignore him and hope he doesn’t return, you throw him out.  Is it hypocritical?  Yep!  Sure is!  But it is also 100% necessary to protect your other patrons because if you don’t, the racist starts feeling safe and bringing his racist buddies, literally everyone else starts feeling unsafe and starts to hang out elsewhere, and two months later, ta da!  You now own a n*zi bar and there is literally nothing you can do about it. Jessica is in a somewhat similar situation.  You as a pretend bar owner need to make a decision as who to let into your bar and who to throw out for the good of all of your patrons.  Jessica too is faced daily with that decision.  If she want’s to help as many people as possible, the only realistic way she can do that are by protecting those under her leadership... only.  She is surrounded by hateful, angry, sneaky, traitorous, abusive, or otherwise evil people.  Piracy as a profession and poverty in general can do that to a person.  Of course there is a clear difference between those down on their luck and desperate, and the truly cruel and twisted, but unfortunately both types of people yield the same wrongdoings.  It’s absolutely her nature to extend a hand to anyone and everyone but.... she just can’t anymore.  Too many times has her trust been betrayed, too many times has she gotten in peoples business trying to be helpful, only for her to absolutely bite her in the ass.  Too many time the extended hand is bitten and once or twice, she’s actually made things worse.       Now, she will only help someone she loves, someone under her leadership, or someone who seeks her out.  That’s it.  And even then, sometime it manages to bite er in the ass.  But she had to set that hard limit for herself out of necessity, one she does her absolute best to adhere too and... these days she adheres a little too well. That leads us to our next point; what I was alluding to at the beginning of her Understanding essay when I said she has limited but deep running empathy.  That detachment again, courtesy of a very unattached mother and unchecked ADHD. ( It isn’t a strong enough characteristic to even rank as a strength or a weakness but damn if it isn’t an undercurrent to a lot of her motivations and experiences. ) Strangers are fair game that she tries to ignore, but if she even perceives you as a threat, you could be in danger. Like anyone used to violence or perhaps anyone trapped in an us verses them mindset, she can just... flat... turn her empathy off.  Not on command, she’s not a socio or psychopath persay.  But she has become totally numb to the horror of violence via her warrior upbringing that, in her mind, violence can actually be rather fun. Pair that with the fact that she purposely tailored herself to only be empathetic to her allies and boom.  You get a kindhearted killer.  Cops and soldiers in our world do it literally every day.  Actually anyone can do it really, even you if you tried. You don’t have to be evil or even angry to kill or steal or lie... you just have to believe you’re right.

Three Secrets:

     WHAT SECRETS?!  LMAO this bitch is the oversharing queen!! I’ve been typing and pondering her character for literal hours ( its currently 11:16, fuck you adderall ), and I still can not think of a single goddamn secret.  There is nothing about her that at least five random people don’t fucking know about!! The only secrets she has are secrets she knows about other people and even then she is!! literally the worst!! She spills her guts left and right and yet she wants to be a mysterious bitch SO BAD like BABE I love you, you’re precious, but you are a dumbass attention seeking validation chasing adhd CLOWN girl!! Stop telling random people about your hermaphroditism or your dairy allergy or your dead dad or that time you fell asleep in a barrel like that is literally your uber driver Jessica honey come ooooon. I’m skipping this section mom holy fuck.

Three Fears:

     What if she does wrong by everyone who trusts her?  As stated at the end of the ADHD essay, she’s terrified of failing those she leads.  Where it as simple as personal failure, she’d be fine.  Ever if her entire world came crashing down on top of her she’d either die or start back from square one.  Death is a fact of life and her adaptability means she can just dust herself off and move on, so neither her death nor her failures really scare her... But it isn’t just her life and happiness at stake, is it? Not anymore, right?  What started as a leader of a small gang of rebels became a full crew, then a crew became a slew of allies, then those allies built a town and now... now she’s the governor of the Crimson Isle and there are nearly twenty five HUNDRED lives at her mercy.   HER mercy.  One really, really bad mistake could ruin their livelihoods or spark disorder and disloyalty.  And if she died?  Would whoever it is that will take her place be as good to them as she is?  Is she good enough to begin with in the first place? Every day the paperwork gets a little bit thicker, every year there’s a new baby or two.  And the isle has fertile soil sure but will it last?  Are they prepared for a raid or a hurricane?  And if Jessica trusts the wrong people, where her people right to trust her?  ...can I protect them? Can I protect them?! CAN I PROTECT THEM?!

     Who am I if I’m not interesting?  This is, literally, an entirely subconscious fear.  She’s not at all aware it exists and therefor this entry is short. But between her short time with her very unimpressed mother, her own ADHD, she is constantly hungry for attention without even realizing it.  She must be interesting and intriguing and engaging, and I did mention she wants to also be mysterious.  She wants not so much your input or even your validation - but rather if shes not perceived then.... is she really there? Remember, she is unaware of any of this.  And fortunately she’d never been starved for attention to act out over it in the first place, even when her disinterested mother was alive. Look at her; she’s radiant, she’s beautiful, and she’s 6′4 / 195 cm shredded and covered in cool scars. Without even opening her mouth, without even her colorful clothes, she’s kind of automatically interesting.  So she’s never been so desperate for attention that she acts out because she’s never been without it for very long.  But it’s there. Hungry, aching, silent.  Those years after the M branding were horrible and she could never really explain why.  She still throws parties, organizes festivals, and talks to damn near anyone who will listen.  Look at my art!  Look at my library! Listen to how much I know! Let me tell you how lovely you are! Look at my scares! Look at my hair! Look at me haha, please, please look at me. 

     GHOSTS. NOPE. No. NO. Fuck ALL of that noise. Stay dead, go to hell, eat a dick.  Red Jessica is a scientist and superstitious atheist. As an academic and somewhat bi-cultural woman she simply thinks there are far too many religions with far too much history for any of them to be considered The One True Thing You Must Believe Or ElseTM and she tends to not truly believe anything until she finds some kind of proof.  Shes not afraid of the unknown, shes thrilled by it. She’s not afraid of death or the afterlife, that’s beyond her control. She’s only superstitious because she does believe in and value luck, and also its a bit of a cultural habit. BUT IF SOME SHIT STARTS MOVING ON ITS OWN OR IF SHE SEES SOME BULLSHIT IN THE CORNER OF HER EYE THEN SHE IS OUT OF THERE. OUTIE 5000. She has heard the tales of lost souls from purgatory or the eternally ravenous Pret or dangerous Phi Tai Hong or the tragic and startling Banshees or the creepy Santa Compana and she wouldn’t believe a word of it where it not for one thing.      SHE FUCKING SAW ONE. She’ll never forget it, it was the first and last time she EVER attempted to plunder a tomb all Skyrim style and at first she thought it was one of the crewmean being creepy as shit until she got a good look and he was SEE THROUGH AS SHIT AND SKINNY AS FCUK AND SHE GOT LITERALLY CHASED THE FUCK OUT OF THAT JOINT. She does not CARE that some ghosts are just apparitions she does not CARE that some are friendly and trying to warn her of something if you are MOVING and DEAD at the SAME time get FUCKED. If any of y’all cringe try-hards bring a Ouija board to the party you are getting SENT HOME and BLOCKED. NO CAP.

Three Goals:

   She really only has one left. Listen its... almost 1am and ive been typing since like 5pm i think i covered goals somewhere in here but ive gotta throw in the towel but even then I’m kinda being serious.  Her only remaining goal is to find a suitable heir of some kind.  She wants what she’s built to fall into worthey hands but she could never seem to find a good parter and even when she did she couldn’t sustain a pregnancy ( you’d think that would be a huge deal but it hardly mattered to her oddly ).  So at 50 the option of having kids is out but there’s still plenty of hope for either adoption or a protege.  But then again, she’s so busy these days that she hardly prioritizes it like she wants to.  

                                                                               holy shit i need some water...

[moiraineswife]

Refreshing as a Highstorm - A Stormlight Fic

Hey I inflicted this on my ao3 people last night and forgot about y’all! Inexcusable!! So here we are. 

DO NOT PROCEED IF U HAVE NOT READ RHYTHM OF WAR. 

you’ve read it? okay fabulous - u may proceed? 

you have not? WHY ARE YOU STILL HERE? LEAVE. NOW. 

Title: Refreshing as a Highstorm

Summary:  Set some time after Rhythm of War. Jasnah decides it's time to come out as ace to Wit, and she does so in typical Jasnah fashion. He takes it in typical Wit fashion - in stride. They're soft and I'm emotional. Everyone wins. Jasnah POV. Minor warning for mentions of past acephobia. 

Teaser: “Wit,” she said, tone brisk and firm, “We need to talk about sex.”

For a moment she saw surprise tinge his sharp features. Then he blinked and smoothed it away.

“What?” he said, his tone light, “Have I been doing it wrong all these years and no one has thought to tell me until now?”

Link: ao3

Commission Link: Have me write other cosmere characters 

Jasnah settled down on Wit’s bare chest, listening to his heartbeat. He did have a heart. The organ, at least.

That had surprised her the first time they had done this. Though in many ways Wit was deeply human, he was also alien.

There was a depth to him, a knowledge that came only from the thousands of years he had been alive, stalking her planet, and more besides.

At times that daunted her. Looking into his eyes could sometimes feel like looking into an abyss that held the weight of more knowledge than could ever be contained in all the books on Roshar.

History, history from a thousand worlds given life. And he was in her bed at this very moment peering down at her with a haze of sleepy pleasure. That gave her a little thrill of pride and excitement.

Alien and ancient or otherwise, he liked to hold her once they had finished. She had the sense that he craved the tenderness and the humanity of it, to end an act that had always seemed so primal to her with a distinctly human, civilised note.

She didn’t protest. Initially she hadn’t wanted it. It had felt like wasted time. The world was ending and she was cuddling? But, more recently, she had come to acknowledge the benefits of a little rest, of time where she was allowed to simply be. To exist, rather than fighting tooth and nail for each breath.

She suspected that was part of why Wit insisted on it. He kept doing things like that. Making excuses to feed her, or force her to take a break and step away from her work for a moment.

A part of her had balked at that at first, seeing it as a subtle way of him trying to control her. She had shut those fears down. It was not about control, it was about care. And she could let herself be cared for. Sometimes.

Wit stroked his fingers idly through her hair, unbound, pooling around her like a swath of night. Then he threaded their fingers together, deliberately choosing her safehand for the purpose.

He often did things like that, trying to entice or excite her. She worried he was beginning to see it as some sort of challenge or game she was luring him into.

She sighed.

The time had come to speak to him about this. In truth, the time had probably long ago. But, well, she was human. She could admit to a little fear.

In the chaos of everything that had happened over the last year, Wit had been a flurry of his own kind. But it was a kind that felt good rather than terrifying and she...Well she did not have an excellent history with romantic partners and she had feared to lose this.

The time had come, however, when not saying something would do more harm, so she pushed herself up, back against the headboard of the bed, drawing her dressing gown more firmly around herself.

Wit shifted lazily, rolling onto his side and propping himself up on an elbow to look at her.

“Wit,” she said, tone brisk and firm, “We need to talk about sex.”

For a moment she saw surprise tinge his sharp features. Then he blinked and smoothed it away.

“What?” he said, his tone light, “Have I been doing it wrong all these years and no one has thought to tell me until now?”

She eyed him. Each conversation was like a dance, a fight, testing, seeking, pushing one another. She enjoyed it, normally, but tonight...Tonight she just wanted to be open, and honest. No games.

“No,” she said, simply, “You were perfectly satisfactory.”

He quirked an eyebrow at her and she grimaced slightly. That..was probably not the most tactful thing she’d ever said to a partner.

Fortunately he just laughed and kissed her hand, “Jasnah, my dear, you can be wonderfully refreshing at times,” he said.

“As refreshing as a highstorm, you mean?” she said, bluntly, and he smiled again, eyes twinkling.

“Roshar would not have life without them,” he said, lightly.

She sighed again, more heavily this time, and Wit frowned slightly as she rubbed her temples. His expression shifted, and he sat up straighter.

“Jasnah?” he said, a faint note of worry tinging his words for the first time, “Is everything alright?”

“Fine,” she said, waving a vague hand, “It’s still difficult to speak about this. I’ve done it several times in the past, yet it never seems to get any easier. Particularly if one attempts to approach it with any measure of delicacy.”

“Then don’t,” he said simply, taking her hand, “Approach it like the highstorm that you are, Jasnah. I assure you I’ve survived worse.”

She took a deep breath and, not looking at him, said quietly, “I don’t need sex, Wit.”

He frowned slightly, and she braced herself for the quip.

“Don’t need it for what, my dear? For life? Technically none of us needs it, in the basest of terms. We don’t theoretically need wine, either, to survive. But to live? I consider it a necessity.”

“I don’t,” she murmured, and her voice seemed to strangle itself, becoming small.

She hated that, and forced it back to its typical tone and volume with effort as she cleared her throat and continued.

“I don’t need it to feel satisfied with life. I don’t need it to feel satisfied or fulfilled in a relationship. It is not something I have ever found myself wanting, as most other people seem to.”

She drew her knees up to her chest, holding them. A part of her recognised that she did this as a defence mechanism, that it was a very obvious tell that she felt afraid and insecure, which she hated feeling, and hated telegraphing even more. But she couldn’t help it. In that moment, not looking at him, waiting for the storm wall to hit, she needed the comfort it brought her.

Wit moved beside her, sitting up straight, facing her, and when she looked up at him she saw that his face was uncharacteristically serious. He reached out and gently took both of her hands in his. She let him, and he seemed deeply relieved by that. Far too relieved in fact.

She frowned at him as he said, in a tone she had never heard from him before, serious and direct, “Jasnah, you haven’t felt as though I’ve ever-”

“No,” she interrupted him quickly, suddenly understanding what he was worried about.

Then she gave him a flat look that clearly said, ‘do you truly think you could pressure me into doing anything like that?’

The tension in his posture broke and he laughed, then, and said, “You are truly wonderful, Jasnah. I don’t think I’ve seen such a fabulous glare for centuries now. I must study it thoroughly at a later date so as to be able to properly master it when needed.”

She smiled again, some of her own tension bleeding away, though not all.

He scooted over to sit beside her, back against the headboard, legs stretched out comfortably in front of him.

She waited for him to settle himself then said, “This isn’t a problem for you? In our relationship?”

“No,” he said, and though his tone was lighter than it had been earlier, it took on that uncharacteristic serious cast once more for her.

“You surprised me, Jasnah Kholin. You were something on this planet I never expected, and have been delightful in many ways. I won’t pretend that I haven’t enjoyed our physical diversions. But you, and indeed this budding partnership, are worth more to me than the pleasure I can derive from our bodies.”

She nodded absently, then frowned as she realised that he seemed to be perfectly content to continue with her, without question or hesitation.

She had been about to assure him that she was perfectly happy to continue having sex with him, for him. She was not repulsed by it, if she had she would certainly never have entertained it with him. But she had expected to make this point in rebuttal of his disappointment or withdrawal. And he hadn’t done either, which momentarily threw her.

She knew her worth. And she knew that her value as a partner was indeed worth more than the use someone might find for her body.

Other partners had not exactly shared that sentiment in the past.

However fond they had been of her, her disinterest in sex had always put them off. Even if they did not react initially poorly, over time they became frustrated and disappointed, as though they had secretly hoped that she might make an exception for them.

They seemed to take it as a personal slight that she didn’t think about having sex with them every waking moment.

She had never had either the time or the patience for that nonsense, and each time she had walked away without regret. But she would have been lying if she claimed that it hadn’t hurt her, hadn’t made her feel lonely, and alien, even broken, when she’d been younger.

Wit was taking this too well, and she narrowed her eyes slightly at him, trying to determine his angle.

He did not seem the type of man who would take it as a personal insult that she did not crave sex with him. He was arrogant, and he had an ego, but it was of an entirely different sort.

Still, she hadn’t expected his reaction to be, so, well, absent. He was looking at her with the same bright eyes he always did, the same thinly veiled eagerness to see what their companionship would bring, the same intensity and hunger that had simmered between them this past year.

Wit seemed to read her confusion and suspicion in her face, for he reached out and took her hand, her free hand, and squeezed it.

“You are not the first person I’ve met who feels this way, Jasnah,” he said gently. “Indeed, you are not the second, third, or fourth person, either. We would have to climb rather high up the number scale, if you wish to truly and accurately plot yourself.”

“Really?” she said, before she could stop herself.

Logically she knew that she couldn’t be the only person who felt this way. Particularly when one factored in the sheer number of people Wit had known in his life. Statistically it was highly likely that he’d met someone else like her before.

The logic, however, did not prevent the sudden rush of warm emotion at hearing, at knowing, that she was not alone.

Wit smiled at her. A different smile than any she had seen before.

This was the smile of a man who knew the importance of knowledge, the emotion it could bring when used to connect, rather than destroy.

The smile of someone who used that knowledge to bring hope and comfort to people; to bring them together, and help them Connect across realms and ages.

The smile of someone who still found simple joy in using the wealth of his vast experience to bring a simple joy to a frightened girl who had spent so long afraid that she was alone and unlovable.

He squeezed her hands and nodded. Absurdly, she felt her throat tighten, and had to raise her other hand to wipe at her eyes as she felt tears bud in them. Some instinct urged her to pull away from Wit, to not let him see her emotion, the power he had over her with the truth he had just given her.

But she was learning to fight those instincts, and so she turned to him, full on, and let him see her tears, let him see her smile, let him see what a gift he had given her today.

Wit smiled back, warm and genuine, and stayed quiet, with obvious effort, allowing her to have her moment.

A gloryspren winked into existence above her head, and for once she let it manifest in the physical realm, smiling up at it.

After a moment she pulled herself together, taking a deep breath and wiping her eyes, returning to business.

“Have you ever been in a relationship with someone like me, though?” she asked him, tone direct once more.

“No,” he admitted gently, then added, with typical levity, “But I’ve never been tap dancing with a chull, either, and I’d very much like to try that as well. The ability to continue providing me with new experiences even after all this time is one of the cosmere’s greatest gifts and joys, Jasnah.”

She eyed him, judging his sincerity. Somehow, the man sitting there with a twinkle in his eye, talking about tap dancing chulls, seemed more sincere than the others who had initially told her the same, with serious tones, and sombre expressions, only to accuse her of being cold and inhuman some months later.

She eyed him again and he raised an eyebrow at her.

She sighed and admitted, “You’re taking this too well.”

A faint blush stained her cheeks at that and she turned away. It felt so vulnerable to admit that, to admit that she expected him to hurt her. More vulnerable even than it had felt to admit the thing she expected him to use as a weapon against her.

“Jasnah,” he said, quietly, “I won’t pretend that I haven’t enjoyed that aspect of our relationship. You are a beautiful, alluring woman. And for all that you have no inclination towards it yourself, rather talented."

She smirked a little at that. As with most things, she had felt that if she was going to engage in it she may as well at least attain some competence.

“But it was a means to an end, my dear. Pleasure, indeed, but also intimacy, and closeness with you. That is what I truly want.

“I’ve had plenty of sex in my life, Jasnah, I’m quite sure I can survive a few decades without it for a creature as truly incredible as yourself. You are the unique and wonderful experience Roshar has gifted me with. What a fool I would be to throw that aside for the sake of sex.”

"Others in the past have not been as...discerning," she said drily.

"Well, as you yourself are fond of noting, dearest, other people can often be idiots," he said lightly. "Sex is wonderful. A true masterstroke by the cosmere to encourage us all to keep producing children. But I'm fairly sure its lack won't be added to the list of things that have killed me any time soon."

She studied him, so sincere, so lighthearted, then said, bluntly, “I’m not asking you to become celibate for me, Wit. We can have sex again, if you wish.”

He blinked at her, digesting that, then he said curiously, “Do you enjoy it?”

There were no strings to the question. They did not do that with one another, as was openly established early on in their relationship. Questions were welcomed, by both parties, whatever their content, the intent assumed always to be genuine.

She considered the question, truly considered it.

With him, and with a few others, she had engaged in sex because her partner had desired it, and she had wanted to do something for them.

Rather as she might prepare a meal she was not altogether fond of, but which she knew was their favourite. If she prepared meals.

“Yes,” she said, finally, “It is pleasurable for me, when done correctly,” she added with a frown of irritation.

In her experience, that was certainly not always the case. Wit, for all his flaws, could never be accused of being stingy with the attention he gave her. In every aspect of their relationship.

"As I imagine it can be for most people. Though likely not as intense and consuming as it is for others, I’ve gathered. And then there’s of course the fact that-”

She broke off, actually blushing noticeably for the first time in approximately a decade.

Wit’s face split into a wide, almost wicked grin.

“Come now, Jasnah," he said, waggling a finger at him, "A highstorm does not hold back its rains, you should not hold back your insightful and unique pearls of wisdom on the human condition. Least of all in my presence. I simply won’t have it,” he said, prodding her with a finger in a spot that he knew she was ticklish.

She actually growled at him, and he stopped at once, though he did laugh as he did so. Insufferable bastard.

She sighed and said, “Sex is pleasurable, but it’s not a pleasure that I can’t achieve myself more easily, with much less mess and fuss, and a good deal less complex emotional baggage attached.”

Wit laughed again at that, loud and full, and she found herself smiling in spite of herself.

Knowing he would enjoy it, she continued, layering an analogy onto the idea.

“It’s rather like attending a feast when you’re already full. The food still tastes nice, even if you didn’t particularly want it. But wouldn’t it have been far simpler, faster, and less likely to cause a headache had you simply taken a private meal in your chambers and skipped the fuss?”

As she had hoped, that caused him to laugh harder. Wit enjoyed an apt metaphor, particularly if it was original. Or as original as it could be to someone with his life experience.

He leaned in and gently kissed her temple, “You are a true delight, Jasnah. A highstorm that invests me with such joy and wonder, even as it attempts to bludgeon me with the force of its will.”

She raised an eyebrow at him as he coaxed her back down into a more relaxed posture, the two of them lying down once more, their legs lazily entwined, his fingers in her hair again.

“Too far?” he asked, lightly, as she settled back into place.

Wit liked flowery language, in all areas of life, but particularly in complimenting her.

She'd made the mistake of telling him, flatly, that it was nauseating.

He'd spent a solid month afterwards composing the most outrageous quips and lines of flattery, which had included multiple pieces of poetry sprung on her without warning.

Finally losing patience, she had soulcast all six pages of the final one into crystal and thrown it at him.

He had laughed, and they had come to an agreement regarding a comfortable level of tolerable flirtation and flattery from him.

“You’re a faint breeze away from ending up at the bottom of a chasm,” she told him flatly.

He smiled, “You may need to think of something with more threat to it, my dear,” he said. “You know perfectly well that if a faint breeze did topple my hapless person into a chasm I’d only crawl out of it a day later far more annoying than when I’d plunged in.”

“Hm, with a tap dancing chull in tow, no doubt” she deadpanned in response, resting her head against his chest once more.

She felt the laugh vibrate through his ribs this time. It was a strange sensation, but not an unpleasant one.

He sobered again a moment later and said, “I’ll need to leave again, in the next few days. There’s somewhere else I must be. Something that proves even more irresistible than your delicious tongue, my dear.”

She nodded without comment. He did this, disappearing for sometimes weeks at a time. He had done it even when he’d acted as Elhokar’s Wit, and she’d had no illusions at all that she would be able to dissuade him of it. He always came back, typically just before she truly needed him. That was enough. She'd long since given up asking where he went.

She did appreciate that he’d started giving her some warning that he was going to vanish on her, however.

“I would like to discuss this further when I return,” he said, thoughtfully, fingers still carding absently through her hair, “I understand, and appreciate, your willingness to continue experiencing the true wonders my tongue can perform in physical matters, as well as mental,” she rolled her eyes, but he pressed on, apparently without noticing, “But I would like to have an open conversation, establish some rules, some tweaks to our relationship going forwards to allow it to blossom as it may.”

She smiled against him, “That would be wise, and appreciated,” she said slowly.

It still hadn't sunk in that he was so...Accepting of this. People usually had a broad range of reactions to her. Acceptance was rarely one of them.

Then, with more reluctance than she ever thought she would feel doing so, she pushed herself out of his arms and stood.

“I have work that must be attended to tonight, casualty reports from the latest battle, maps I wish to review before the strategy conference in the morning,” she said, adjusting her robe.

Wit propped himself up in bed and eyed her. She knew that he thought she should sleep, that she worked herself too long, and too hard. He had warned her about the dangers of relying on Investiture to push her body beyond its natural capabilities. Indeed, she had chided several of the younger Radiants with similar warnings, and forced them to rest.

But for herself? This had been her burden to bear for almost twenty years, now. She had already given so much of herself to it, and felt that it was still not enough, that this was a piece of advice she found it difficult to take.

He opened his mouth, and she expected him to protest, to urge her to return to bed with him, perhaps with some crass quip. Instead, he said, “How can I help?”

She smiled, and asked if he would fetch her copies of the maps from the room they used for study and preparation.

He pressed a small kiss to her cheek before moving off to do as she’d requested. Watching him go, she felt a faint stir of warmth inside her. Rather like the feeling she had when drawing in Stormlight.

The world was ending. They were embroiled in the midst of a centuries long war with the destructive embodiment of hatred, bent on their capitulation and eventually destruction. But in that moment, she allowed herself to be human, to be vulnerable, and open, and flawed.

In that moment, Jasnah allowed herself to be cared for. She allowed herself to be wanted, in a way she never truly believed she could be. She allowed herself to remember why they fought, why she had given so much of herself to saving this world. She allowed herself to live, for just a moment, before she returned to the fight.

***

A/N: Look I didn’t expect this ship to happen to me either but hey! That’s just how life works in the year of or lord brandon sanderson 2020 so what can you do??????? He makes Jasnah happy and evidently that’s good enough for the rat brain. Except more fic at a later date bc I have 0 self control. 

[unsaidmar]

One, The meeting.

Plot: Both Spencer and Olivia mourn their losses. Maybe doing it together works best.

WC: 2k, I get carried away.

CW: Brief mentions of death.

A/N: Hi y’all! I’m very excited to share this. I submitted it for a creative writing assignment last week and I thought I would share it here too. This is the first time I post what I write and I kinda want to make this a series.

Olivia knew pain was lighter on the shoulders when carried with someone else, she was completely aware of the fact that pushing her friends and loved ones away was the last thing you’d want to do when grieving. Didn’t stop her, though. Opening up was a conscious effort she had to make.  

Lia had been gone exactly 467 days. Each one harder, longer and duller than the last.  Her mom had told her that pain didn’t have an expiration date, that she shouldn’t worry about getting over Lia’s death sooner than she was ready to, but nothing could help the feeling in the back of her mind, the little voice that reminded her that the world did not stop spinning when she left. Even if she felt like it did.

Mornings were almost automatic at this point. Get up, make an effort to look better, grab an excuse for breakfast, promise mamá you’ll get something else on the way to work, drive mindlessly to the place you knew like the back of your hand. The Grey Roots was special, it seemed to transform people’s perspective as soon as they walked in, it was full of memories and knowledge. That much was true for Spencer Reid.

Maeve had been gone exactly 278 days. Each one harder, longer and duller than the last. The team did their best to navigate around Spencer’s grief, always taking hints the he dropped. A fake smile that meant “we can ignore my loss today”, a shrug accompanied with the ghost of a smile that meant “today I’m feeling better, but I’m not expecting it to last”, and the words “I’m fine, I promise”, that roughly translated to “this is manageable today, so don’t ask me about it”.

The love and sense of protection the BAU had over Spencer was instinctual, which was hard when he seemed to be a thousand miles away while standing right there. Morgan had said that if isolation was what he needed right now, isolation he was going to get, but always with the promise of his friends running straight to him if he needed the comfort.

On his days off, he tried coming to terms with the loss. Loss was a tricky thing, Spencer thought. By definition, it was the state or feeling of grief when deprived of someone or something of value, so if it meant the absence of something, why did it feel like loss went with him everywhere?

The Grey Roots was a landmark in the man’s life. Maeve had recommended he visit the museum while they were corresponding, which he was more than happy to do, always trying to find a way to feel closer to her than he could actually be. Now his visits changed in nature, he was there to reminisce. To try and get the optimistic feeling of loving her to come back.

The stranger that usually walked around the museum with files in her hands went unnoticed for a while, but to her, Spencer had never gone unnoticed. She had been watching him his last four visits, visits that were a lot closer together than the usual visitors liked, which naturally, sparked her interest. She was drawn to him, always turning her head to check if he was there and her eyes lingering for a beat too long to try and come up with an excuse to start a conversation.

Olivia cared very little about dating and would usually turn down people’s advances, but as he sat there, earbuds in and basking in the sunlight the botanical garden side of the museum had to offer, she couldn’t help but hope he was one of those ballsy men that usually approached her. Apparently, the gods felt bad for Ollie, because as Spencer stood up to go, a book slipped out of his bag onto the floor. Oblivious to it, he kept walking.

“Thank the fucking gods” Ollie whispered to herself as she made a beeline for the book. Trying to reach the tall guy, she elbowed her way through the people walking in front of her and tapped him on the shoulder. Play it cool, dork.

“Hey” she said trying to get her breath back. “You dropped this back there” She tried not to fixate on the way his curls looked with the sun shining directly on them, or on the way his eyes took in her presence.

“Oh, thank you so much” He rushed out, grateful that he didn’t have to lose the last thing that connected him to Maeve and cursing himself for being so careless.

Make conversation, now. Say something. Anything. “I take it that’s important, you look relieved” she giggled to try and appear chill. Failing miserably, of course.

“Um, yeah. It was.” Beat of silence. “It is. It was a gift” He answered looking down at his feet, holding on to the book like it might disappear if he doesn’t.

Now, genuinely relieved she could spare him the disappointment, Ollie looked up at him. “Then I’m really glad you didn’t have to lose it” She replied, mirroring Spence’s thoughts, which made him smile.

To the doctor, looking at her felt almost offensive to Maeve’s memory, like she could see him staring curiously at this kind stranger whose eyes were enticing enough to make him forget how to talk. His best friend JJ was the best at reading his expressions and figuring out what he was thinking, she was smart enough to know Reid felt guilty for wanting to move on and leave the pain behind, so she made sure he knew that no one expected him to act like a widower forever, not even Maeve. After all, no one tells you how long you’re expected to mourn a loss, there’s no unspoken rule of appropriate sulking time. 278 days later still felt like too soon and just about enough at the same time. Strangely enough, he wanted to keep talking to this girl, and it would have to start with an introduction.

“I’m Spencer”

“I’m Olivia, but please call me Ollie” or call me anything you want.

“Ollie, good” he let out a giggle that was uncharacteristic of him to say the least. Mainly because he had never made it this far into a conversation with someone as pretty as Ollie. “You work here” It wasn’t a question, he noticed the plaque pinned to her shirt that read Dr. Olivia Vega, Conservator.

“Yes, I’m one of the conservators here. I know I might not look like it, but I promise I know my stuff” This observation prompted Spencer to give her a once over and he smiled at how right she was. She was wearing black cargo pants and a simple lavender t-shirt she seemed to have cropped herself, her arms were covered with little tattoos and her dark hair had streaks of purple in it. She was a sight to see, and hadn’t she been so kind and smiley, Spencer would’ve been intimidated by her. “My mom always says I look like I dropped out of high school to form my own punk band” She added, interrupting his train of thought. “I kind of agree with her now that I think about it, but I have a doctorate in history and that’s not very punk”

“Well, I’m a federal agent but I look like my grandpa, so I’m right there with you”

You do not look like a grandpa. “A federal agent, huh? The wall-climbing, gun-shooting, vest-wearing kind?”

“Sometimes, yes. But I work for the Behavioral Analysis Unit so the work I do revolves around profiling people, we try to narrow down the suspect pool by studying the way the crime was committed and making educated guesses about what kind of person would do that and the possible motives behind it. I also have doctorates, but not in history” He said, glad he could sound cool in front of what appeared to be the coolest human ever. Maeve doesn’t mind you moving on, he repeated to himself.

“Judging by the fact that you didn’t introduce yourself as ‘Doctor so and so, but you can call me Spencer’ I think you’re nice and not full of yourself” Ollie joked. “I would have been super intimidated if you’d lead with that”

Is she a witch or am I thinking out loud? “You should see the people I work with. I look like a 12-year-old boy compared to them” She erupted in laughter, causing Spencer to blush. “I’m not kidding, they call me ‘kid’ and ‘pretty boy’”

They got that right, you are pretty. “No way, my older co-workers call me ‘kid’ too! And I’m their boss. The least they could do is call me Doctor Kid.” She pretended to pout.

A mom with a stroller trying to walk past them made the two realize they were still standing in the middle of the path, so entirely entertained with each other that they didn’t notice the third-grade class that had just passed them. As if the realization had struck them both at the same time, they looked back at each other, both of them trying to stretch the interaction as long as they could.

“Do you, maybe, want to have this conversation somewhere else? Perhaps not in the middle of the crowd?” She asked hopefully.

Taken aback by the offer, Spencer agreed and followed her back to her office, that looked exactly like he would expect it to. A bunch of framed pictures with friends and family covered the wall to his left, she had a jean jacket full of pins hanging behind the door and a bunch of miscellaneous books on a bookshelf right behind her desk, all of them with post its sticking out and what he assumed were her bookmarks.

After offering him coffee, they talked about all the things they had in common and relished on the things they didn’t. It was refreshing to get out of their heads and talk about something other than what stage of grief they were in. Spencer was glad that Ollie had approached him first, otherwise he wouldn’t have met her or even know she existed. A text from Penelope brought him back to reality and he sighed at his phone when he read it.

“I have to go, we got a case” He said, annoyed.

Ollie tried to mask her disappointment with an airy laugh, “Oh those fucking serial killers, so rude of them to interrupt our conversation”

Come on, Spencer. Say you want to see her again. Maeve doesn’t mind. Faster than he could process, the words came tumbling out of his mouth. “I want to see you again” He declared; eyes wide, afraid he came on too intense.

“Well, what a coincidence. I want that too.” She smirked, thanking the gods for all the love they seemed to be showing her today. She took a bright pink sharpie from her drawer and scribbled her number on Spencer’s palm. “Please, don’t wash your hand before you save the number”  She hoped she hadn’t blown her cover as the chilliest most relaxed person ever with that one sentence that sounded like she was begging him to call her. He took out a little white card from his bad and handed it to her.

‘SSA Dr. Spencer Reid. Behavioral Analysis Unit’. Two phone numbers were displayed along with the FBI logo. Which made Ollie look up to question it.

“Bottom one is my personal line; top one is the work phone” He anticipated the question.  

The shit eating grin he was wearing did not go unnoticed by her friends back at the BAU, but he brushed them and their raised eyebrows right off. This whole thing with Ollie was his to keep. At least for the moment.

That night, even though spent in a dingy motel a few minutes out of Redding, Pennsylvania, Spencer slept better than he had in 278 days. He wasn’t an outgoing person at all, he didn’t ask for numbers, he didn’t agree to have coffee in some stranger’s office, he didn’t text bright pink numbers sloppily written on his hand. But maybe the way they met was a sign that he should, maybe, no matter the outcome, he wanted to see where this led. Not even sure what this was.

Here goes nothing.

“Hey, this is Spencer. I didn’t wash my hand” sent at 2:13 am.

“I mean, I did. Just not until I texted you” sent at 2:13 am.

Back at her own apartment, Ollie made a mental note to go visit Lia so she could hear all about the handsome man she had met. Following the advice her therapist had given her, she took out the notepad she had devoted to the letters she wrote her and started writing what she would give anything to be able to say to her face.

[lavendersage]

i saw that post from the girl who's girlfriend isn't quite ready to be out. if ur blog didnt seem to celebrate love of all kinds (and i'm not talking straight vs gay, i'm talking happy vs sad) i would have kept this to myself, but between ur response and the op's story itself, i think im going to take this chance of sharing a burden on my heart, maybe to help someone else, or just for the shot at becoming at peace with it. a couple weeks ago, when u asked for everyone to send u stories of their lovers, i wrote most of this out but didnt send it.

i (21F) am a college student (god, is this reddit?). my entire life, i have cultivated the cleanest good girl image that i could. my parents sacrificed so much for my sister and i to grow up far more comfortable then they did, so i have tried to honor them with a little golden child they could brag about. straight As, never missed school, did community service, perfect SATs. i worked tirelessly to be on-paper perfect.

one of the reasons i've worked so hard to earn Good Noodle Stars is to make up for the fact that i am terminally homosexual. i realized real early that i could literally cure cancer and the first comment on the news video will be, "okay, she cured cancer, but at least I'm not gay like she is." i could raise thousands for charity, and my aunts would still say, "our kids may not get off the couch but at least they have sex correctly." so they dont know. few people do, none outside my closest circle.

in walks Mars(21NB). Mars is an anachronism. they are both a romantic with and without a capital R. be still my Dark Academia heart.

we got very close before school broke for Covid. Mars wrote me a letter every other week, encrypted and folded so that the only way to open them was to rip a paper seam that would show if someone had tampered with it. it was intoxicating. it was the first time i felt able to communicate freely about anything. i dont know - i didnt hold back my emotions, emboldened by writing in cipher. i spent all summer waiting for those red sealed envelopes, filled with stories and poetry and honeyed nonsense, and i refused to not respond with mirrored passion.

it was all great until it set in that I was going to have to face Mars again, in person. i prayed our school would decide all students had to stay remote. of course I wanted to see Mars, i want to do much more than just see them, but i knew it would only be a matter of time between us being reunited and them asking me out.

this was a person who crafted a puzzle where the answers were flowers that were a declaration of fidelity in Victorian Flower Language. of course i ate that up with a spoon. u would have too. listen, i know all aesthetics are fads and all fads age badly, but if the cottagecore girls get to learn to sew and bake and grow, i owe dark academia for teaching me the vocabulary and actions of my most treasured relationship yet, and giving me permission to be earnest and vulnerable in this life for 10 goddamn minutes. Mars is handsome and a genius and i was not used to feeling connected to anyone. but for all that joy, i was also drowning with the thought of having to break their heart by explaining i cant date anyone AFAB.

so the semester starts. Mars asks me over for a homecooked meal since restaurants don't exist here at the end of the world. they made me a beautiful dinner with all my dietary needs in mind. just like everything else i ate it up. and i made no effort to stop them from inviting me over for food and conversation again and again and a fourth time just to make sure it really hurt.

they kissed me after the last dinner. and I kissed them back, before stopping. they apologized for moving too quickly, but i explained that they had moved at the perfect pace, just with the wrong person.

there is no nice ending to this. it's real life. Mars took it as a breakup and didnt reach out to me again. i sobbed from halloween to christmas, i swear. i'm the villain in this story.

i started this post off as a sign of solidarity to the other young lady, but now im realizing that this letter would be better read by her fearful beloved, not her. it is 4am where i live, so i apologize if this has all gotten away from me.

love is a garden u have to water yourself. ngl, my favorite part about this blog is all the posts about learning to love yourself, learning to see ur intrinsic value dispite the core facets of u that have been deemed flaws, and trust the relationship between me, myself, and i.

i started out telling myself i was writing this to help the high school kid, but i havent shared this with anyone. writing this out has helped me process a thing or two, or at least start to. i like this idea of lavendersage being a kindly cryptid who will alchemise ur heartache into calm.

i hope you dont mind if i try to make this a thing.

my story is in the shape of a love letter. its tearstained before it even hits the water. i drop it in your river and watch it float away.

y’all are breaking my heart with these stories this week 🤧i feel so sad to read them and so helpless to respond, because i know how deep that pain must run and i don’t know if there’s truly anything i could say or do to take it away. but if i can lessen it from 100 to 99, well, then i’ll have fulfilled my goal of existing on this website. at the very least, i’m glad that writing this message helped you process some things on your own, but i’m happy to share my thoughts anyway.

your mars sounds like a top tier human being. victorian flower language? i’m swooning. it’s no surprise to me that you fell for them, and they were clearly head over heels for you. folks don’t make grand gestures like that for just anyone, that’s for sure 🥺

and i’m very sad to hear about the way things ended. but, anon, i can’t help but wonder if it is indeed over, or if hope exists on the precipice of a great act of bravery performed by you--something i know from experience is much easier said than done, and something i’ve failed to do in the past, so i’m not trying to be a hypocrite here. the ball is definitely in your court, though.

also...it doesn’t sit well with me to hear you call yourself a villain. i understand why you see it that way, as it’s clear that you deeply care for this person. but for many folks...the fear of what our family will say or think or do weighs so heavily on us that it robs us of any possibility of happiness with someone who isn’t the kind of person our family wants us to end up with. i’m sure plenty of folks, myself included, can empathize with this. and i’m sure on some level, mars does too.

my love, as with all things, i hope whatever happens next works out for the best, and that you don’t let this experience darken your heart. if things change between you and mars, please feel free to drop me a note. i’ll always be here to listen 💚💚💚`

[archivedatl]

Old Blogs

Howdy. I’ve noticed some concern over the loss of my old blogs here n’ there so I decided to post all of them in one large, comprehensive blog-a-verse. Hope this brings a smile to a few faces. Our Street Corners Keep Secrets This is me asking for a brick to be thrown through my window,
a message attached that reads, "Why can’t you just wake up?"
I am not a star,
don’t look up to me in hopes of finding something more.
That which is out of reach does not promise anyone a goddamn thing.
Hope arises in possibility,
but possiblity is fragmented and selfish,
so don’t think for a second that I am safe ground to walk on.
I will sink beneath the feet of a thousand travelling companions,
and make ruin of any city’s foundations,
because concrete and steel can never tell a soul how it feels.
Our street corners keep secrets, and our road signs only suggest,
never deciding for us,
never knowing if the destination to which they lead,
is where we truely belong.
Life’s greatest tragedy is not that it will some day end,
but that most of us just live to follow directions,
and many times we end up totally lost. I am a landmine. Sometimes I break down so hard you can hear it, and when I can stand to come near it with means to repair, the chances of walking out unscathed are slim to none.
I know because I’m one; a victim of second-hand breakdowns and bad impressions, made under intoxicated conditions with poorly lit expressions. And I regret not going back, I regret not missing flights, I regret not asking for more and taking chances that I can only hope will not be forgotten. My fingers are crossed.

I-O-U.

Now my telephone’s dead and I can’t stand to hold out like this, but I’m constantly checking myself so as not to be a burden. Anything too heavy eventually gets dropped, no matter the cost. Let me be light as a feather, but valued enough so as to remain in a back pocket, until those jeans need washing and I find my place on a bedside table, to be read aloud on nights when memories and prying needs return to haunt the foundations of this room.

Pick me up,
Read me every now and then,
I won’t disappoint.
*I am* witty and engaging so bless me with attention, because I’m *dying* for attention *without* any means of telling *you*. I’ll talk the talk, you take care of the rest. What up thugs?

I’m alive and well, realizing how eternally grateful I am for everything going on in my life day by day... Its a lot like learning to walk - at least, that’s how I’d like to think of it. We’ve all been there, so I won’t waste your time painting a pretty picture of how it all goes down...
I want to talk about other things...
First and foremost, I’ve come to understand that as of late there have been a lot of people finding this little piece of my life tucked away on the web; moreso than usual, and for that reason, I’d like to extend my proverbial hand to anyone and everyone who may have something - anything to say to me. Thank you for taking an interest in who I am and what I’m attempting to do with my life. I am opening myself up, as much as possible, to anyone who may be interested. All I ask is that whoever you may be, wherever you may be, understand that I am only human - two hands, ten fingers, and a life... I’ve received a few messages from people, upset that I haven’t been able to respond to their previous comments or private messages, and who now probably think less of me for it. I hope this isn’t the case, but its bound to happen. What I’m saying is that I don’t live my life on the internet... I’m sorry if there’s a message I never got around to responding to... I’m just not that good at keeping up with reality, let alone a virtual one. I will, however, try harder from now on... And understand that even if I don’t respond, I probably have read your message. I don’t just clear my inbox and move on. Thats plain rude. :)

To all my good friends,
the ones I should talk to more often,
the ones I left back home,
the ones I will never stop loving,
thank you for still hugging me when I come home...
I know I don’t always show it,
but I’m forever indebted to you all for everything you’ve ever done for me...

That brings me to my second point.
The closest friends you’ll ever have are the ones you’d take a bullet for,
but they’re the ones you constantly feel you could put a bullet in as well. ;)

Think about that one.

That’s it for now. I can’t believe I’m up at 5:14am. Touring has made me an insomniac, but I feel fucking great.

Have a good one y’all,

Me Lawyers and Liars I am a liar.
I am self absorbed.
I am in this for me.
I am seeking recognition.
I am not concerned with politics.
I am attempting to rise to the top.
I am never going to forget my intentions.
I am allowed to worry about my own life above the lives of others.

-------AFTER ALL---------

I am human. Part Deux: Colors, Sounds and Feather-Downs 
Current mood: happy I had a long, goofy conversation several weeks ago with an interesting girl who I haven’t seen since, in a diner I have yet to revisit, but it stirred up some thoughts that I found pretty interesting. Maybe I’m just nuts. Anyhow, the discussion began on a simple basis; I inquired as to what her favorite color might be. She said she didn’t know. I replied, "How can you not know? Its a simple question." -- She paused, looking sort of surprised, as if someone had never pressed her for an answer before, and then replied, "Well... It changes... Today its yellow."

I didn’t know what to say...
I didn’t understand.

How can your favorite color just change?
What happened to yesterday’s favorite color?
If, on a whim, something of such esteem and value can be replaced with another, then on what grounds was it ever of any more value to begin with?
When I was little, my favorite color was green. It stayed that way, no matter what I said to be trendy at the time (IE. 8th grade was my "black is such a raw and expressive pigment" phase, but everyone goes through that shit.) As of late, I’ve become more partial to blue - Light blue in particular, but that’s not that important. My point is that something happened that caused me to send green packing, and to fall absolutely head-over-heels for blue.
(Stay with me on this...)
Now, such a dramatic change in attraction doesn’t just happen - I mean shit, I know we’re only talking about colors here, but this kind of switch-a-roo has only happened ONCE in my entire life. Green ---> Blue. Just like that. Must mean somthing, right?
Pablo Picasso went through a "blue period", at which time he was broke and mourning the loss of a dear friend. There’s a similarity there somewhere.
Please don’t get me wrong, I am by no means depressed, nor do I have any reason to be, but perhaps color - every, individual hue, represents to each of us a state of being, and in turn, helps us to deal with whatever it is we may be going through. I’m not talking mood-ring shit here. What I mean is that there are things - simple things - that without our knowing, mean the world to us and when they change, they change for our own good, because whether we like it or not, we are looking out for ourselves. We do it unconsciously - But we do it. We do it to stay happy and to stay alive... And above all else, that’s what matters.
On this note, I’d like to attempt to make my point - Don’t throw yourself out on another’s whim. People change, as do intentions and as a result, consequences. Live for yourself - love those around you, but realize that they’ve got their own agendas. People will screw you - You will screw people... Green ---> Blue. Get it? I’m not sure I do... Always consider that your life will venture in new directions, but be aware that other’s will do the same, and in accordance, understand that to be happy, people must exist in their own light, cast in and of themselves, not by the light of their peers. Conflict will arise because of this. Conflict is to be expected; conflict is a part of life. Find ways to work through conflict, even if it means picking a new favorite color...


I hope this makes a little sense.


I’m tired and rambling, and perhaps just a misguided fool, but I think there’s something in this - something that I am learning and accepting as my fingers punch these keys to an inviting, hypnotic rhythm. I feel like they’re leading me somewhere, and I’ve decided to follow.

____I’m going to bed. Take from this what you will.

Love,

Alexander William Gaskarth

*I feel fine* The first of many, I hope. 
Current mood: happy So I’ve decided to spill it; the beans, the juice, my guts... Whatever you want to call it, consider it spilled. Up to this point, I feel like I’ve done an excellent job of keeping just about everything true about myself, to myself... and for good reason - what people don’t know, people can’t use against you. I guess that’s my first confession. I fucking despise the way people operate. The way people go out of their way to find things out, only to throw them senselessly (BLINDLY) into conversation later. I don’t know if its intentional, (I guess that sometimes it is and sometimes it isn’t,) but frankly, it gets to me. Its the same kind of prying aggravation I feel when someone starts moving shit around in my car, or on my computer table. Stop putting hills in my rugs! Please. Call me OCD but if I put something somewhere, chances are, I wanted it there and it should remain that way. Its the same for anyone else. Let one’s own business remain that way. Anyway. I’ve fallen into a depression lately - not emotionally per say, but I feel like my ability to open up to people has peaked over the past two years. I used to be so ready to say anything, without caring how it affected me, but recently I’ve become so protective of myself, not because I’m afraid of getting hurt by others, but because I might make myself look bad. It’s disgusting. I never used to be so self-absorbed. Its like in every situation, I’m wearing a mask... Not just one mask, in fact, but many masks; Masks to hide masks between people - to hide certain sides of myself from those who disapprove where others don’t. I try so hard to win the approval of everyone. Why? Fucked if I know. I just love being the center of attention I guess. And all this time I thought myself to be humble. No sir. But then, who really is humble? Everyone wants to be loved, right? So am I wrong in looking out for my own well being? Who knows? It makes me sick to my stomach, regardless. I’ve unknowingly stumbled across so many insecurities lately that I feel like a different person at times. It’s like I’ve been born all over again, to a world where I have to carry myself differently. I’m still opinionated, I’m still eagerly in search of answers, but my motives have changed. I do it for myself now; for the praise and admiration I earn as a result of my actions, not for the simple pleasure found in just "doing it". Maybe its all just part of growing up, as they say. Maturing... You know? But does it continue to change? Will I stop acting like such an asshole? Who knows. It worries me. I don’t want to be like this, but its who I’ve become... What’s worse is that I don’t know who or what to blame for the transformation. That would be too easy, right? I digress. I’ve got a lot of things on my plate. My dreams are coming true right before my very eyes - I have a band - We’re going somewhere - This time next year I hope I’m far, far away from this place. I want to see Japan. I’ve wanted to see Japan for a while now; call it a calling. Haha. I don’t know what I want when I get there - I don’t even like the hustle of big cities for too long. Gives me a headache. But there’s something about it. I’ll see it soon enough. The repetition of every day life kills. It ruins the flow of my creative juices. No joke. On days that I sleep in, I go to bed feeling exhausted, and yet, I never sleep on the weekends, when I should want rest. I don’t. It would be a waste of freedom. Why spend time on parole in seclusion, you know? I’m only tired on weekdays - only when I know I have to drag myself out of my fucking room to take a shower and go to school, and then to work. Maybe I’m not tired. Maybe it’s just a natural defense against running myself into the ground with routine. I feel pale, and sick, and run down... For no reason. I eat right. I see the light of day. I breathe fresh air all the time. I love the outdoors. Shit. I love my life. But between Monday and Thursday I feel so transient... My head isn’t in the clouds - My feet aren’t on the ground. Where am I? I don’t know, but frankly, it sucks. I have some good friends. We get hammered sometimes and forget about everything. The occasional dramatic scene is worth it. People naturally don’t get along with one another. It’s all a matter of how tolerant people are. I have some tolerant friends. In turn, I think I put up with my share of bullshit. It’s like a cycle of tough loving. But it works. It keeps me sane. In the end I think we really do love each other. Awww. I also like to kiss people. It gets me into trouble sometimes. Whatever. Certain individuals need to stop looking for love in the wrong places. --I can’t talk. --I’ve found love in the worst places. --Its not an easy thing to deal with. --Doesn’t change the way I feel about them. --Its ok. --As long as I’m happy. There I go being selfish again. ___I’m done confessing for now. Take from this what you will. Love, Alexander William Gaskarth *I feel better.*

[drwcn]

... I must say, it's really nice to know it wasn't only I who found book!LWJ's attitude unnerving. He was shown a posessive there, I think? The funniest thing that TGCF I actually liked, because despite one of 'merry couple' fangirling for another for years, he still gave him free space and trusted to make his own decisions.

Hi anons! :)

This post is gonna get kind of wanky, so be warned. If you don’t want wank, well don’t read this post. I really don’t like to answer wank asks because only positive vibes for my blog please and thanks (but don’t worry anons, I’m not mad, I’m just gonna put the three of you together so I can talk about some of mdzs’s problems once and for all).  Also disclaimer: my opinions are my own, I could be wrong about some things. I have only dabbled in the novel, some chapters here and there, and I really couldn’t finish it. I went ahead and read the original text, which is actually quite well written all things considered. The translations are fine, but it just doesn’t quite hit the spot. Thus, if I said some things which are factually incorrect, I am not opposed to being notified.  

First and foremost, for the anon that asked “what’s wrong with mxtx?” The short answer is nothing is wrong with her. She’s an author who writes popular online novels with a wide readership. Clearly people are receptive to what she’s putting out there. Good for her, you know. It’s not easy to be that well received. 

But in terms of her novels, there are several things that I personally don’t like. I’m just gonna list some of the things she’s said about MDZS/CQL. I have not consumed any of her other work. 

First, her treatment of her female characters. In an interview, she literally said that most of the men in her MDZS novel are single because she didn’t want to come up with names for their wives. Like....what the fuck. Take from that what you will. Also, look at her female characters. Seriously, what kind of fates did they have? According to another OP, all the female characters’ lines in MDZS added up to 50 sentences. Don’t quote me on this, I did not fact check. This is just what I heard. But even within the narrative itself, let’s do a body count. Jiang Yanli died for plot. Wen Qing died for plot. Qin Su existed and died for plot. A-Jing existed for 45 seconds and then died for plot. Baoshan exists in narration only. Madam Yu was a raging asshole. Madam Jin treated Jin Guangyao like trash. Cangse Sanren: dead. Mama Lan: (no name lol) dead. Where are the fucking women? Where? Let’s not forget all the other women that existed purely as plot device: Sisi, Bicao, Meng Shi. Mianmian is the only one who lived, but she literally had to - quote Eliza Hamilton - “take myself out of the narrative” to do it. 

Second, and this is a well known thing: mxtx claimed that the only canon gay relationship is wangxian, everyone else is straight because she doesn’t think it’s likely that there are that many gay people. If we interpret other male characters as couples, we’re free to have our own interpretation. ... ..... .... I’m fucking speechless. But also laughing because LHK and ZZJ literally ignored canon, and straight up made LXC and MY have a meet cute in class in front of everyone. 

Third, but not least, let’s talk about book!Lan Wangji. The following will strictly be talking about book!Lan Wangji and not show!Lan Wangji. Show Lan Wangji is very nuanced and WYB’s micro-expressions are great. (You’re doing amazing sweeties, don’t ever stop).

 What, pray tell, is book!LWJ’s personality? Silence is not a personality. book!LWJ is what we critics in the drama world call “高冷霸道总裁”, which is a trope in and of itself. And there’s nothing wrong with tropes, except a lot of viewers are getting...kind of sick of it, because it’s getting a little repetitive. 

高冷 = arrogant and cold, but like... in an admirably good way. Or as I like to call it, a stick up the butt and no communication skills. 

霸道总裁 = The Big Boss.  Attention: lemme use some heteronormative language here for a second because most of cdrama is written this way. The Big Boss is the fictional counterpart to the real life 高富帅 (gao fu shuai: tall, rich and handsome, the moniker for an ideal husband) that many aunties and mothers wish their daughters could marry. This kind of character is tall, rich and will swoop in to save the damsel-in-distress - erm, I mean the strong independent female character - when she’s in trouble. Because even though she’s a strong independent character, and sometimes even the main character, somehow her fellow male lead still has to play her knight in shiny armor. Not like, he’ll sit down and listen to her talk about her problems, no, no, he has to pay for her expenses, bail her out of trouble, save her life, sacrifice himself, go against the world for her... sounds familiar??? 

Yeah. 

And like, some novels do “the big boss” trope better than other. They give the “the big boss” a human side, let him interact with side characters, allow him to have friends, build on other relationships, such that he is 3D and can stand on his own. Eternal Love of Dream’s DongHua Dijun is a recent example which I think did a pretty good job of writing a male character that doesn’t let him revolve around the love interest 24/7. 

book!LWJ doesn’t work for me because what exactly is his character growth? He serves to back up Wei Wuxian and.....????? He’s so flat in his character built. He loves Wei Wuxian and....that’s it. What else is there? If there’s other character traits y’all picked up on that I didn’t, please let me know because I find him so boring and at times disturbing (in terms of the nature of his physical relationship with Wei Wuxian). 

In CQL, we saw Lan Wangji change as a character, we saw him struggle with morals and values, struggle against tradition and family and societal expectations. We watched him witness the death of Wei Wuxian and move on to face life afterwards. We know through the actions of Lan Sizhui that he helped raise a child who didn’t just follow rules blindly. When Wei Wuxian came back, we saw a matured Lan Wangji who had come into his own and was comfortable in his own skin. And in the end, when the dust settled and the truth was revealed, he rose to the occasion. Jin Guangyao’s death left a power vacuum, and Lan Wangji filled it. Someone once wrote an excellent post about Lan Wangji being attracted to Wei Wuxian’s sense of justice (recall Wang Yibo’s change in expression when Wei Wuxian prayed during the lantern ceremony). I think that is exactly right. For two individuals with such different personalities, their bond in my opinion lies in their ability to see right and wrong beyond rules and laws and customs.  

In the book, canon ended with the two main character going at it in the grass, and I guess...yeah that’s cool. Happy ending right? But what they did learn? What was the point? Lan Wangji had lived 13/16 years without Wei Wuxian. He knew who he was. But for Wei Wuxian, he came back to life in another person’s body and went through a gazillion different revelation within days. He needed to find himself again, discover who he is, what he wants in this new life. That is a process he needs to do by himself, without external influences and pressure. He needs to be given a chance to decide that Lan Wangji is who he wants in this life, not in the last life, and when he does Lan Wangji will still be here, waiting for him, as he has always waited for him. Lan Wangji is the rock, the constant, the home that Wei Wuxian could always fall back on. He is not a prison, not a master, not the dictator of Wei Wuxian’s life. Theirs should be a partnership of respect and understanding. They are soulmates not only in the romantic sense, but because they understand each other better than anyone else. 

Book!LWJ does not give us that. What it does give us is a badly written sexual intercourse that gives me the heebee-jeebees. Sometimes I think it’s even weirdly dub-con without intending to be dub-con. The truth is I can’t even begrudge mxtx for it, because she is not the only one to write in this way. I’ve read other c-novels and many many of them are like that. And here is where we’re getting into the discussion of cultural understanding/acceptance of sex, relationship, consent, gender roles and the what is taught to young adults in school. That is a rabbit hole I won’t go into. 

So that’s it. My thoughts. 

[disasterbialert]

So, I finished The Untamed and ok ok I think I have collected most of my thoughts about it. (I’m late, so I guess these thoughts don’t really matter, but I wanted to put them somewhere and here seemed like the place.) SO here’s a post absolutely NO ONE WANTS and imma do it anyway cool cool.

Firstly: love. This entire show is about love. Obviously other things too ok I’m simplifying for the sake of my point. But importantly it is about love. The love for our families, found, made and blood. The love of soulmates, romantic and platonic. The love of humanity, of the people known and unknown, love for them purely because they are human and are therefore deserving of love. The love inherent in honour and duty, the sacrifices made for that love. Loving someone—bravely, in the face of every adversity, despite being told it’s wrong. Learning to be true to that love, learning to love faithfully, learning to love, to show love, to be loved.

Bless the tireless translators. Y’all. The work you do is often thankless but y’all are so valued. Thank you.

The music. I actually don’t have the words for this, I can only thank the composers and musicians for the gifts they have blessed us with. My heart my heart my heart.

The costumes, set, props and cinematography are all so exquisite. I’m not an expert in any of these fields but I can see the care and detail paid to each facet of this show. What an absolute visual joy. Stunning.

And now, the characters.

I’ll start with the ladies. They deserved so much more. We deserved to have more than just one by the end, but I understand this wasn’t their story (still hurts tho).

Jiang Yanli. Proof that kindness is powerful. Her heart holds entire worlds. She is not weak (don’t even try me I swear to the gods). She holds her family together. She takes care of her siblings. She feeds their bodies and their souls. WWX is right—JZX does not deserve her but that’s because nobody does. But Jiang Yanli deserves to be happy, therefore her marriage to the Flower Peacock is valid purely bc it makes her happy. She stands up for what’s right, she will not compromise her morals, she will defend her family to her last breath (and so she does💔). She does not harden herself, she does not have to. Her patience and kindness, her softness, her gentleness—things that are seen as weaknesses or inferiorities—are what put her above all around her. She is gracious, she is strong, she is loving, she is determined, she is brave. She deserved better.

Wen Qing. A queen. A powerhouse. The most brilliant mind. A lightning-quick and sharp-bladed tongue. She loves Wen Ning so much and her love is powerful, just as Jiang Yanli’s. Her dedication and devotion to her people, her true family, not just a name, is incredible, inspiring. Why? Because she’s not perfect. So she learns. She grows. She becomes herself. When she’s at the Burial Mounds, she essentially adopts WWX as another younger brother, caring for him because she knows he won’t care for himself, and she does so out of love and respect. But she never replaces Jiang Yanli. She is keenly aware of all she perceives WWX loses because he aids them. Hence the pivotal, crucial: I’m sorry and thank you. She walks to what she knows is her own death with her head held high and her hand in her brother’s, offering love and support and what protection she can to the end. She does not flinch. She does not bow. She fights with all of her and surrenders with grace not reflected by those she surrenders to. Honestly I could write an entire thesis on Wen Qing but I’ll cry too hard so I’ll just leave it here that she deserved better, she deserved to live, she deserved to be free.

Mian Mian. Mian motherfucking Mian. Here is a woman who stares injustice full in the face and says no fucking way, says over my dead body, says you and what army old man. Strips the robes of the hypocritical off her own damn body, throws them at the feet of a false god and walks out, back straight, head held high. She makes her own way in the world, carves out her own life, finds love and happiness and lives. She does not compromise. She does not bow. She fights and she wins and she is glorious. And she lives she lives she lives.

Yu ZiYuan. I may be in the minority here but that’s ok. No I don’t approve of her abuse, just gonna nip that one in the bud right out of the gate. Was she fair? No. Was she cruel? Yes. Was she an incredible fighter who fought for her family, for her home? Who showed raw courage and furious strength in the face of insurmountable odds? Who loved a man with her whole bitter heart, loved her children with that same fractured heart? Was clearly the subject of spiteful rumour and vicious gossip and did not let it defeat her? Refused to bow to anyone? I do not like her, do not like how her bitterness made her cruel. But seeing her wield her blade, take wound after wound, witness the death of her love, then take her own blade and rob the monsters invading her home of the satisfaction of taking her life, took her own life with her own hands because that’s how she did everything in her life so why the fuck wouldn’t she do it in death too, who crawled her way to the man she loved, laced their fingers together so he wouldn’t die alone, so they could both die held? How can I not respect her.

Ok. The lads.

Jiang Cheng is a man-child idiot with the emotional expression range of a loquat, an inferiority complex the size of the moon and self-worth issues going back farther than the Big Bang, and I love him, ok? He loves so hard and so much and it is heartwrenching that he cannot communicate that. Some of his best moments are actually in the background, which is both funny and terribly sad. His rage is at times ridiculous, at times frustrating, at times all he has left, his joy is bright but brief, his grief is devastating. Watching JY greet WWX after the 3 months in the Burial Mounds. The entire temple scene. Crying on his knees. We were to be the Heroes of Yunmeng. Take care. Fuck me right in my feelings ok.

Wen Ning is so fucking precious and I would die for him for all eternity. What an absolute gift his character is. I honestly can’t write much more about him because I’ll cry. But special mentions to his interactions with A-Yuan/Lan SiZhui and the incredible scene where he reveals to Jiang Cheng the truth about his/WWX’s golden core. Unparalleled emotional intensity. The equal parts tenderness and fierceness of his love is breathtaking.

And the loves.

Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen. There is a lot of tragedy in The Untamed. There is great sadness in the main plot line and even in the small side plots. The Ballad of Song Lan and Xian Xingchen (as it’s come to be known in my head) is for me the most devastating and poignant. They just wanted to do good, to wander the world together and do their part to make it a better and safer place. It’s noble, yes, but it’s also so human, so close to home. Because we all want that, to know that we can do some good before we leave this world. They do not want to be involved in the petty squabbles, the undignified and cruel vying for power and dominance. They simply want to live and be. The fact that both of their deaths are pointless, could have been avoided, are the faults of poor timing and terrible terrible luck and cruel turns fate is almost what makes it sadder. Xue Yang screams that XXC is not better than him, that his righteousness and the righteous way he has attempted to live his life is all for naught. And then he is immediately proven wrong—XXC’s heartbreak means he can’t become XY’s puppet. SL is free from XY’s control and avenges himself and XXC. Which is also somehow just as devastating. That XXC and SL were so close, so very close to being together, to living, to making it, but didn’t. Nothing grand or heroic about their deaths—just the unknown and unpredictable nature of life. There is no rhyme or reason, no big important plan, no fate or destiny. They both simply die as we all one day will. And it is their potential cut short, the love and life they could’ve had, that hurts the most. They are not Lan Zhan and Wei Ying: they do not get their second chance, their reunion, their happily ever after. The look shared between SL and LWJ—the shared grief, the recognition, the understanding—and LWJ’s brief and unelaborated-on comment to WWX ‘how fortunate’ speaks volumes. How fortunate you came back/I found you/that’s not us when it could’ve been. That final shot of SL walking away and the brief out-of-focus moment of XXC walking beside him—particularly when it’s echoed with the parallel of WWX and LWJ—chokes me every time.

Wei Ying and Lan Zhan. Soulmates in every sense of the word. Their song. Their bunnies. Their child. The years they were robbed of. The yearning. The pining. The loyalty. The growth. The love the love the love. The loss the loss the loss. Every Lan Zhan. Every Wei Ying. Every glance. Every soft breath. Every gentle touch. The tenderness. The intimacy. The quiet acceptance. Their love story is one of the ages and, on a personal note as a queer person, what a gift it is to see a queer love story like this. (even when censored as a bromance, which like I mean, they tried but the glances alone are +9000 gay pining but whatever and yes I am making a joke because I’m crying don’t look at me)

TL;DR: I am so thankful The Untamed/CQL/MDZS and all of its adaptations (the source material included obvs) exists. I am so thankful to the writers, translators, casts, crews, creators. I am thankful for the community of fans that exist that love it as I do, who share that love and passion—whether through passionate discussion, rich fanfic or mind-blowing fanart. I am thankful I live in a time where content like this exists and can be shared. I learned a whole lot and I’m so grateful there aren’t even words. Love y’all. I’m gonna go be soft now. 💙

[drummergirl231-2]

Happy Autism Awareness/Acceptance Day 2020!

To me, true awareness and acceptance go hand-in-hand. I still don’t mind the word “awareness,” since most people, even people who think they’re spreading Autism awareness, aren’t totally aware of what it is or what it’s like. But I also love calling it Autism Acceptance Day, because that’s what we need more than anything. 

To spread some awareness, I’d like to address some misconceptions about Autism and share some other thoughts I wish people knew/understood.

1. Autists/Aspies do not lack empathy. 

I found this thing and it explains it super well so I’ll just leave it here:

Imagine a scenario where you say something totally innocent and it triggers the person you’re talking to. They start flying off the handle at you and you don’t know why. But because they’re angry, you are, too. But since you don’t know why they’re angry, you don’t know why you’re angry, either. It’s crazy overwhelming and confusing. And you want to fix whatever you did because you don’t want this other person to be angry or hurt, but you don’t know how, because their all-consuming rage makes it really hard to think and try to put yourself in their shoes. Also, you’re scared on top of it all.

That’s what having high affective and compassionate empathy and low cognitive empathy is like. It’s not that we don’t care. It’s that we care too much, and all the super specific nuances of socializing are things we have to learn one at a time, through either our mistakes or others’ mistakes. These things don’t come naturally to us, but it’s not like we can’t learn. If I were to compare math to socializing, it’s like you all have calculators or other doohickeys to do all the math for you and we just have paper and a pencil... and no eraser. 

2. Autism is not a mental illness to be “cured.”

Now don’t get me wrong, I am ALL FOR people finding ways to help us be able to deal with the world better, whether that’s a better diet, items to block out sensory stimuli or items that stimulate, or counselling that can help us navigate social situations and talk through anxiety and/or depression. But those things don’t “cure,” us because Autism isn’t a disease or something wrong with us. Autism gives us different challenges, sure, but neutotypicals have their own challenges. 

The symptoms typically associated with “low-functioning,” Autism don’t necessarily have to be a part of Autism. Many non-verbal kids grow up to be verbal. That doesn’t mean they stopped being autistic. There was a celebrity mom years ago who claimed to “cure” her son’s Autism with a gluten-free dairy-free diet. He’d been so trapped in his head, he couldn’t engage with the world around him. She altered his diet and one day he laughed at Spongebob, and that was a turning point. He became able to interact with people and react to things on TV. It was a huge breakthrough. But he was still autistic. If you were to have plopped me down on a rug as a toddler next to a toddler like this celebrity’s son before his altered diet, you wouldn’t think I was autistic at all by comparison. But I was, and I am.

Autism is a different neurological blueprint, and yes, brain-healthy diets and detoxes can do wonders for us because it seems like our brain type does make us more susceptible to negative effects from neurotoxins. But if you think someone has lost their Autism just because “the bad parts,” went away... no. That’s not how it works.

3. Not everyone is “a little autistic.” 

When I was newly diagnosed and trying to process it, someone told me something along the lines of, there there, we’re all a little autistic. But that’s not true. There are a lot of traits associated with this brain type, and yes, a neurotypical person can have a few of them. That doesn’t make them a little autistic. To be considered autistic at all, you’d have to have a large number of quirks plus social delays (not associated with excessive technology use), odd or repetitive behaviors, unusual and intense interests, communication struggles, and unusual sensory processing. Suppose you’re white. If you are white, this should be easy to imagine. Say an African American just told you about some of the challenges they’ve faced, whether it’s race-based bullying in school or racial profiling later on. Would it be appropriate to say, “There there, we’re all a little black?” NO. One, it’s false. Two, while all people struggle with stuff because to be human is to struggle sometimes, the struggles of different groups of people are totally different, and you can’t say you know exactly what it’s like or pretend everyone’s the same. We all have equal dignity and worth, but beyond that, everyone’s different. Don’t pretend differences don’t exist. Just value them.

4. Autism doesn’t have a “look.”

When I tell people I’m autistic, this is usually what I hear: “Wow! I wouldn’t have guessed! You don’t look autistic.”  ...What does that even mean??? Is it supposed to be a compliment? Because if it’s a compliment I “don’t look autistic,” then that’s kind of an insult to other autistic people. Or do they mean it like, “I don’t believe you’re really autistic because I have a preconceived idea of what an autistic person looks like and you don’t fit the bill so I’m not going to give you grace if you act weird?” I don’t know. Y’all say weird things too, sometimes, ya know? But Autism doesn’t have a look. There is a sort of distant intensity in our gaze sometimes... and I can legit see it when Jim Parsons plays Sheldon Cooper, but when I see an interview with him as himself, it’s gone. It’s not a fixed feature of our faces, and a talented NT could totally put it on.

5. Autism presents itself differently in boys and girls.

You know how not a lot of people know the symptoms of heart attacks in women because mainly people only talk about what a heart attack is like for men? It’s kinda like that with Autism, too. Typically when you hear about Autism, you’re hearing about the signs and symptoms in boys. Even most pediatricians only know to look for the way it presents in boys, which is how so many girls don’t get a diagnosis until later in life, if ever.  One difference is that, for whatever reason, girls tend to be better at nonverbal communication and taking hints. We’re mimics. Chameleons. We take on the mannerisms of those around us and who we see on TV as we force ourselves to adapt. Verbal boys might speak at unusual volumes or with an unusual voice, rhythm, or cadence, but verbal girls learn to mimic the speech patterns of others. Our special interests/obsessions aren’t typically seen as strange given our age and sex. For example, a six-year-old autistic boy might be fascinated by WWII. I was interested in fetal development. People thought, “What’s so weird about that? She’s a little girl who loves babies.” We often play with Barbies or other dolls long after our peers have stopped. It helps autistic girls process social situations. When I was shamed out of liking Barbies, I started writing stories in notebooks or in my head. Autistic boys usually struggle with social communication from an early age, but autistic girls usually don’t have any major communication struggles until adolescence, when relationships, platonic or romantic, get way more complicated.  Since little autistic girls can mimic their neurotypical peers, and since some doctors only know how to look for Autism in boys, we tend to fly under the radar, causing that huge gender gap in diagnoses.

6. Mental illness is common with Autism, but NOT part of it.

I read an article by an autist in the UK who struggles to get help for his anxiety or depression because therapists have brushed him off, saying “Well, that’s just part of being Autistic, so it can’t be helped.” NO! Just like neurotypicals can be mentally healthy or unhealthy, Autistic people can be mentally healthy or unhealthy. Just because something is common for us doesn’t mean it’s how it’s supposed to be, or that it’ll always be that way, or that it’s part of who we are and we need to embrace it. People with mental illnesses should be embraced (literally or figuratively, depending on what they’re comfortable with). Mental illnesses should not be embraced. Ever. Because autistic kids and adults often face abuse, bullying, discrimination, and are ostracized, anxiety (especially social anxiety) and depression are common for us. In more serious cases, especially in autistic teens and young adults, dissociative disorders can develop. What’s worse, it doesn’t take much looking to find the dark corners of the internet where people, autistic or not, are encouraged to embrace their developing dissociative thoughts and feelings. I once saw an interview with someone who found healing from a dissociative disorder, and she gets emails every day from others with the same disorder she had who regret some of the things they were talked into doing while living with the condition and  who want to find the healing she did. She said many of them are autistic and under the age of twenty-five. Autistic people with mental illnesses shouldn’t be talked into believing their mental illnesses are a part of them, or not mental illnesses at all, or something to celebrate and cling to. I reject the notion we should have to settle for being ill in any way. We deserve to be as healthy and whole as anyone else, and it makes me sick there are so many internet predators preying on us in this way, and that there are therapists who think Autism and mental illness has to be a packaged deal.

7. If LGBT people were treated the way autistic people are by the media, it’d lead to outrage. But it seems like no one is outraged on our behalf.

We’ve seen the news stories, haven’t we? A couple invites the news over to their house, upsetting their autistic child who then has a meltdown, the meltdown is filmed and aired, and the parents are just like, “This is what our life is like because of Autism. And it sucks. Pity us.”

There was one video I saw... I’m just so enraged by it, even after two years. A mother was praised for her open honesty as she vilified her autistic son and complained about how he ruined her life and how hard it is to go out and have people stare. I’m sorry, hard for WHO??? I don’t even want to go into the details. I know only sharing this much doesn’t make it sound like that bad of a video, it’s just... ugh. Guys. It’d be a whole separate post. I can’t deal with it right now. 

If parents went on the news after their kid came out to them as gay, and wept and begged for pity and said some of the things this woman said of her autistic son (wondering what she did wrong that made her deserve this or that led to this or saying she doesn’t believe in God but finds herself praying anyway that God’ll “fix him”), America would call them the worst parents ever. But parents of autistic kids who do this are praised for their openness and vulnerability as they publicly shame their child.

Another time, after a mass shooting carried out by a teenage boy, the news reported that he was autistic and that might have contributed to the attack (there they go, combining mental illness with Autism as one and the same again).

If a pedophile were arrested, and they said on the news, “And we just got word that he’s gay, so that may be why,” there’d be a riot. But the news can pin autists as mass murderers and no one bats an eye!

All of May last year working at a clothing store, I watched as various departments filled up with pride t-shirts to get ready for June, and I couldn’t help but think,

Where were the Autism acceptance t-shirts in March to get ready for April?

I probably shouldn’t be so surprised with the media painting us as life-ruiners and life-enders. 

I know it’s a vile and disgusting thing for me to be jealous of LGBT people in this way, especially since they have their own struggles, too. I just wish society had our backs and celebrated us instead of wanting us “fixed,” for their own convenience, ya know?

8. Almost all of us hate Autism Speaks, and those who don’t are probably just new. XD

I used to be all “Light it up blue!” as well (even though that seemed weird to me, given blue lights might be overwhelming to some people on the spectrum). But then I read something on their site that made me feel really betrayed, and down the line, I learned most autistic people hate them... some because they saw them say the opposite of what I saw they said. Basically we all have different opinions but Autism Speaks spouts whatever information their donors want them to (sellouts), and that donated money doesn’t go towards helping us, but toward more fundraising or research on how to prevent people with our brain type. I guess they’re not fond of the artistic and scientific advancements we bring to the table. They should change those puzzle pieces from blue or multi-colored to white with black specks because they want a world that’s vanilla. 

9. Some of us still like the puzzle pieces, even if we hate Autism Speaks.

I’ve talked about this in a fanfic, but I’d love it if we could redeem the puzzle pieces, because they’re still a good analogy if you assign a different meaning. Autists and NTs are puzzling to each other, no sense denying that, but the more time we spend together, the more we start to understand each other. Also, Autism does have a lot of pieces, and figuring out I was autistic was like solving the puzzle of my life. The missing pieces came together and things became clearer and made more sense. Also also, some autistic people are really good at puzzles. And then there are autists like me who aren’t necessarily good at puzzles, but get totally absorbed in working on them anyway (my parents have been doing some puzzles during the quarantine lol they’re traps! TRAPS I SAY!!!).

Nevertheless, I understand why other autistis don’t like the puzzle pieces and prefer the rainbow infinity symbol, and I quite like it, too. It’s very pretty, and the way the colors fade together is a nice symbol of how it’s a spectrum.

It’s a sign of the infinite possibilities in our lives when we’re empowered, because we can do and have done good and great things in the world.