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#“when i'm with you i feel like i'm a better person” is my own personal definition of true love
egophiliac · 2 days
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Hi there! I really love your comics and how expressive they are. How do you go about making the characters in your comic so expressive?
thank you! 💚💜💚 I am REALLY bad at explaining things, so my apologies if this doesn't make a lot of sense, but maybe there's something helpful in here somewhere. :')
1. warm up! drawing is a physical activity, after all! so if I'm planning on sitting down and drawing for a while, I usually start off by taking a couple of minutes to doodle a bunch of circles and lines and random shapes, just to get my drawing arm goin' again and get back into the physical groove. just stuff like this:
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and just do that for however long you feel like! you can kind of feel when your arm starts to loosen up and your strokes get more confident. it makes it a lot easier to get those swoopy big lines and gestures!
2. play around with how you use your lines! paying attention to the shapes that they're making will change a lot about how much force and life your drawing feels like it has. (no way is better than another, it just depends on what effect you're going for and how it looks as part of the larger whole.)
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and you can also use lines against each other to get different vibes:
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it's not really a matter of "you need to make sure all your lines are always doing this all the time", it's more like...being aware of it, and getting that into the general thrust of a pose, if that makes sense? like a lot of smaller lines of action, beyond the big one that goes through the spine.
(just gonna use my own art as examples, apologies)
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if you have a good foundation of tension, then all of the little bumps and contours of a character's details won't get in the way of it, and it'll still come through.
and don't forget about negative space either! the spaces between things have their own interesting shapes too!
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I don't mean this to come off as, like, all these extra things that you need to be constantly thinking about and stressing over. more like...just try different stuff and then see how it works and how it changes the feeling! if you find a good shape, see if you can exaggerate it and make it more interesting, and how that affects things! angles and shapes are a LOT of fun to experiment and mess around with, especially when you're going more cartoony. :D
3. acting!
just...spending a little time to think about what the characters are actually doing! (aka the "figuring out what everyone is doing with their hands" bit.) this is more a personal preference, but especially in multi-panel comics, I like to have them be in the middle of doing stuff. not just big actions, but smaller things -- like even just how they're sitting or standing -- so that it feels like we're looking in on the middle of a scene, instead of a couple of characters just standing around neutrally and staring straight ahead while talking at each other.
this probably sounds really obvious, but it is one of the most fun parts for me! I love trying to find some little action or something that they can be involved in, especially if it's relevant to their character or adds an extra joke. (for some reason this usually involves me being mean to Sebek) (I'm sorry)
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it doesn't need to be everyone Always! Doing! Something! all the time, especially if starts becoming distracting (sometimes they do actually need to just be standing around neutrally and staring straight ahead, especially if there's a bigger action going on that you want the audience to focus on instead). but even just figuring out some kind of non-neutral pose for them to be in can add a lot and make it feel less generic!
3. thumbnailing!
this is, again, very much a personal preference; unfortunately, every artist really is different, and we all have different processes that work better for us. so I can only speak to my personal experience! but I find what helps is to start REALLY rough -- not so much as in messy, as in not trying to start right into actually drawing everything out. like, literally just starting with stick figures and :O faces.
it probably doesn't sound relevant when talking about Drawing Expressively, but I find it's really, really helpful to have already figured out what everyone should be doing (acting!) and what the overall general layout and flow of things should be, before getting into the actual meat of drawing the characters. like having a sketch for the sketch!
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(good compositional flow is something I struggle with, and text layout especially, so this stage also helps a LOT with making sure things are fitting where I want them and staying consistent/not breaking screen direction/etc.)
then after that, I can go ahead and focus on getting those Shapes and Lines and Angles and all that, without having to think too much about the layout or where things should go!
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(of course, the downside of that is that my thumbnails are usually way better than my actual drawings, alas alas.)
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4. this is more philosophical, but...give yourself some slack. the stress of Making Things Look Good is, ironically, often the biggest problem. (see: thumbnails looking better than the actual drawings.) so...let yourself draw shittier and without regards to accuracy. make things just for yourself without thinking about posting or showing them to anyone else. draw stupid faces and wrong proportions because they feel better that way. focus on what's fun and not on getting a perfect end result. "draw expressively, not well", as they say -- you can always tighten up things like proportions and details later, if you really want to.
that's all WAY easier said than done -- god knows I haven't really managed it -- but even just aiming for that attitude really, REALLY helps. if your lines are confident, they'll look a lot more alive and expressive than lines that are exactly technically precise but have no rhythm in them. (this is why tracing photographs tends to look so weirdly stiff and unrealistic, by the way -- even if you're drawing realistically, you usually need to exaggerate and stylize a little bit so it doesn't look lifeless.) it's a balance between caring about what you draw, but also being willing to let things go a little bit.
↑ I hope some of this helps! I don't know if any of this was actually what you had in mind, let alone much of it actually made sense outside of my head. :') but hopefully you (or other people) will be able to get something out of it!
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Also, I would like to add that Malleus’s blatant disregard for the autonomy of others and fits of rage is DELIBERATE on his end. Being one of the top five mages in the entire world, I am sure that he KNOWS there is a large disparity between his power/social and the rest of the peers/subordinates etc. His sheer and utter confidence in his abilities to get what he wants and general disregard for others isn’t only an indicator of his awareness about this disparity, but is also a reflection of the abuses of his power AND social status as a whole.
In light of his age, imagine the amount of times he has repeated these mistakes despite others advice and criticisms against his choices. Only Ace has been able to overcome others general reverence and fear towards Malleus when it came to calling him out. He is not an innocent person who is ignorant about the ways of humanity verses faes, and is certainly not the innocent character the fandom (especially those who are infatuated by him) think he is.
[Referencing this post!]
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***Standard disclaimer: In sharing my thoughts, I do not mean to disparage Malleus fans. Furthermore, me disliking him should not detract from your own enjoyment of the character. If you do not feel comfortable reading about this topic (ie critique of Malleus’s character), then I encourage you to scroll on and to not engage with this post.***
My thoughts below the cut!
I do feel that, to some degree, the disregard for others and inappropriate fits of rage come from blatant ignorance (since Malleus did have a very isolated and sheltered upbringing). However, it's also hard for me to believe that in his 178 years of living that he was NOT told countless times by those around him (mostly Lilia and his grandmother, Maleficia) to wield his power and social status more tactfully than how he has. Did he take none of those lessons to heart??? What about the 2-3 years he spent living among the non-fae at NRC? Nothing from then too?? Regarding self-awareness of his strength and social status, Malleus has made it clear on more than one occasion that he stands above others. Right from his first appearance in the main story (in book 2), it's implied he's well aware of his position--so much so that he deliberately hides his identity from Yuu. He also cannot propose to Eliza in Ghost Marriage because he is the crown prince of a nation. Time and time again, Malleus's status is mentioned and it plays into his importance as the sole heir to Briar Valley. He must also know he is powerful, given that he is one of the top 5 strongest mages in the world and can perform incredible feats (like reassembling a stage and walking through Vil's poisonous miasma in book 5) like they're nothing. His grandmother and Lilia tell him the Draconias are powerful and shouldn’t use their magic to harm, but to help those they rule over. Yet he seems to have surprisingly few qualms when turning these powers against people who are only at a fraction of his power (Rook, his dorm mates, everyone in the Scalding Sands trip group, Ortho, etc.) or have no magic at all (remember when he attacked those civilians in Terror is Trending and the other Diasomnia students had to restrain him?). Malleus may be emotional in these moments, but the fact remains that he's making the deliberate, intentional choice to wield his magic in this way. He has the ability to hold himself back (as we see him refrain from fighting Rook in Malleus's PE Uniform vignette, only because he knows Rook is baiting him), but the vast majority of the time he fails to do this. For someone who is acutely aware of his power, you'd think he would... I don't know, keep a better leash on it? And what about his identity? So Malleus is concerned about Sebek insulting Leona (the prince of another country) but he ISN'T concerned about how his own fits of anger poorly reflect on himself, who is the CROWN PRINCE of a country??? Please make that make sense... Why is Malleus so selective 💀
I'm actually quite shocked at how little Malleus's pride and arrogance is pointed out; it's usually Leona who gets those labels even though Malleus is also just as arrogant, prideful, and confident in his own powers. Most of the time, I feel like I see Malleus being called "innocent". Maybe his negative traits on display get overlooked because TWST tries so hard to present Malleus to us as someone we are supposed to like (especially with how often they use his overpoweredness or loneliness is used as a punchline for jokes). Our interactions with Malleus are also so few and so short, particularly early in the main story, that fan project their own ideas about what he's like onto him and that forms a certain “image” of him that may not be the same as how he actually is. Him being lonely makes it easy for fans to perceive him as desperate for company and even easier for fans insert themselves as his “special” friend or S/O to fill the void.
It's... quite ironic, really? Malleus says in Riddle's Suitor Suit vignettes that he is familiar with the concept of "noblesse oblige", which is the implied duty of the privileged and nobility to act gracefully towards those less privileged. Yet... he is sometimes overstepping "fae playfulness" or "teenage childishness/immaturity" and continuously creating situations which put people around him in danger (all of Endless Halloween Night, not holding back his attacks against the Magicam Monsters, all the times he let his temper get out of control, book 7 OB, etc.) When defending the extremes he took in book 7 by citing his status and his UM, Malleus has this to say, which is very telling of his lucidity: "Monitoring? Meddling? Heh, how silly. It's a king's duty to govern, is it not? I'm watching over you. To ensure no nightmares befall you in the fairy tales you now reside in... To ensure you have happy dreams that last forever!" It's implied that Malleus's grandma has told him since childhood that their line has powerful magic to protect their people's smiles--and here he is, overextending those words to people that aren't even his subjects, and twisting the meaning to justify his own brutal rule.
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What I noticed is... Malleus is often so oriented on seeing the situation from his POV that he fails to consider those from any entity aside from himself. In Endless Halloween Night, he feels sorry for the ghosts who showed up late and were left out of the festivities because he can relate to them, so therefore he wants to make sure they are included. In book 7, Malleus fears his loved ones leaving and projects this fear onto everyone else so he feels right in being the one coming in to be their "hero" and grant them happy endings they never asked for. In his own Dorm Uniform vignettes, Malleus frames the circumstances as, "I wouldn't be mad if you did the same thing to me" instead of listening to his peers' complaints. He centers problems around himself (which admittedly is very frustrating to me), and this is how Malleus tries to understand and navigate the world. This gives me the impression that he has a very particular way of thinking and it's perhaps difficult for him to understand others, even with extensive pointers.
I truly believe Malleus is ignorant about humans and fae. That much matches up with what we know of his history. What I do NOT get is why he continues to remain ignorant when 1) he has spent a few years exposed to non-fae and their ways; even if this pales in comparison to the 175ish other years of his life, he should have some new basis for appropriate social interactions with other races, and 2) most of the major adult figures in his life are exposing to him he should consider others' perspectives and try to learn more about that which he is unfamiliar with. Malleus has so many opportunities to expand his horizons and get to know new people, but he seems to sit around and keep waiting for others take the initiative for him. But he could initiate too, so why doesn't he???? (He has shown he is capable of it, as he approaches Deuce to fix his virtual pet and chatting with Idia about the same pet in the main story; if not by himself, then Lilia can easily assist or invite him into activities such as the Silk City trip.) Even if Malleus fails to socialize in a way that's considered appropriate, at least that's something he can learn from and correct for next time... But why doesn’t he????????? If he did, it would sure help out with his inability to empathize with his peers and could even curb his temper (which would be seen as socially inappropriate). So why exactly does he seem to know so little and make so little effort to try and rectify this???? Why does he keep postulating that his word is above everyone else’s and then get upset when people don’t like him for this very alienating attitude? Aaaaah, it's a sad cycle to witness him devolve into again and again... 😭
P. S. Bless Ace for being the one character who still held it against Malleus for the fucked up “prank” he pulled in Endless Halloween Night (and then convincing everyone the misunderstanding was their faults for “attacking the ghosts first”).
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drdemonprince · 1 day
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Can you offer any (academic) writing advice for Autistics and ADHDers? You clearly write a lot and write very well and very clearly, so some insight into your process would be great. Personally, I tend to struggle with over explaining or over citing (cause I am always getting misunderstood) and that I get very fixated on not misrepresenting what my sources are saying to avoid feeling like I'm lying. All this is time consuming and makes it hard to say what I really want to say. Thanks!
Hi there! I've written an essay about a lot of this, here is the free link to read it on Medium:
Much of my writing process is inspired by the book How to Write a Lot by Paul Silvia, and it is specifically tailored to academics. The advice applies to people who write popular nonfiction or fiction just as easily, however. And he does have advice relevant to the self-editing and self-doubt you describe feeling.
The full piece gets into this more, but here are some of the stand-out tips:
Schedule a regular time to write every week and show up no matter whether you are feeling it or not.
Throw out all your magical thinking about what you "need" to be able to write. You don't need the perfect workspace, divine inspiration, the right pen, the right playlist. You just need to show up to write regularly, and do it
Editing, outlining, working with research notes, and drafting all count as "writing." Don't expect your initial drafts to be perfect or to equate writing only with getting new words on the page.
Try writing in public spaces to help get yourself in the mindset of explaining a concept to someone with a different frame of reference and type of expertise than you. Writing in a cafe or a public library can force you think and write in a more accessible way. (alternatively, you can pretend you are explaining the concept to a specific person in your life who you respect but who doesnt have all the same reference points as you -- sometimes this is called the "Grandma Test". Explain something like you are talking to your grandma.)
In addition to all this, I would add that you should read a lot of writing, both good and bad, especially work that isn't dry and academic. If all you read is journal articles, you'll write a journal article -- and most of those are hell to read, even for academics. read fiction. read bad wattsapp shipping. read substacks. read newspapers. read indulgent personal nonfiction in the cut or whatever. read reddit posts. notice what works and what doesn't. develop an ear.
and then write a lot! it took me 15 years to get good enough for anything i wrote to get noticed. you can expect to take many years to get comfortable developing your own voice, too. i dont know how far along you are, but even when you've made tremendous progress you'll only notice your flaws and feel the most turgid brain foggy moments. that doesn't mean you're failing.
also, to some extent you can embrace your citation-dense, precise manner of self-expression. we are living in a moment of maximalism and indulgent, long creative works. it's the decade of the 5 hour youtube essay and the 2 hour album. my 5,000 word essays do better than my 2,000 word ones. you should strip down unnecessary tangents and trust yourself and your reader a little more probably, but ive found that the more blatantly autistic and indulgent my writing gets the more the right people like it. a writer's flaws and their distinctive voice are kinda hard to separate. you're not for everyone!
good luck!
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eggyrocks · 2 days
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Hi!! I really love your work and congrats on getting 500 followers!! i was wondering if you could write #83 with mattsun?? thank you!!
yes yes yes i love this prompt fhjdkjkhlj i hope i do it justice
500 follower special: #83 “It’s always been you.”
mattsun x gn reader, friends to lovers, party setting, language, not proofread
written content masterlist
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They picked a bathroom to hide in, them and Matsukawa. Outside the closed and locked bathroom door, is a crowd of drunk people listening to loud, bad music with the lights off. But inside that small, cramped bathroom, they sit with their back against the edge of the bathtub, legs stretched out towards Matsukawa, who leans against the opposite wall, his legs resting on top of theirs.
They like it better like this. When it's just them.
"Oikawa's gonna be mad at you," they say casually, holding a plastic cup up to their lips as they speak, trying to hide their self-satisfied grin. "This is the third person he's tried to set you up with that you've bailed on."
Matsukawa snickers, arms loosely crossed over his chest. Out there somewhere is his 'date,' probably bored and probably looking for him. They almost feel bad for whoever it is. They would feel worse if Matsukawa hadn't explicitly told Oikawa not to do this again.
And maybe they're just a little too overjoyed that he's here with them, again, instead of Oikawa's matchmaker experiment, to feel bad. Maybe their chest is fluttering at the idea that they're Matsukawa's first choice for company.
"Who cares? He's always up in arms about something," Matsukawa shrugs. "He'll get over it."
There's a knock on the door. Three loud, impatient bangs. "Occupied!" they call out to whoever's on the other side, not looking away from Matsukawa as they do.
From the other side, there's a groan, and retreating footsteps. Neither one of them feel too bad; they've got several other options, in a house like this.
"What about you?" Matsukawa asks, nodding his head in their direction. "Didn't you ditch the guy you came here with?"
That they do feel a bit bad for. The what's-his-name they showed up with seemed nice enough, they figured. And they had resolved before showing up to this stupid party that they would at least make an honest effort to stay by his side for the majority of the night.
But all it took was one look at Matsukawa from across the room, and they abandoned all of their resolve. All he had to do was smirk, and they were trailing behind him, obedient.
It always ends up like this. Just them.
"Eh," they respond with a shrug of their own, placing their cup on the floor beside them. "I don't think he's really my type."
Matsukawa scoffs. "You say that about everyone. I'm starting to think no one's your type."
Heat creeps up their neck. "Yeah, well you reject every-"
There's more knocks on the door, these ones more aggressive. Matsukawa lifts a leg off of theirs and jams the heel of his foot into the door. "Occupied," he says, voice low and not too concerned.
"Oikawa's looking for you two fuckers," the voice from the other side of the door, and they immediately recognize it to be Iwaizumi's. "And if he keeps annoying me about it, I'm gonna tell him where you are."
"Got it," Matsukawa calls back, eyes still heavy on them as he speaks. "Thanks Iwa."
They can hear Iwaizumi scoff as he retreats. Matsukawa gestures for them to continue. "Go on," he instructs.
"I was just saying," they continue, almost wishing they didn't have to; it's a dangerous line of conversation, "you can't really talk, since you've turned down every single person that's ever been interested in you."
And there's this sort of shift in the way Matsukawa looks at them. He lowers his gaze, and he leans forward, just a touch. "Have you ever thought," he starts, his voice shooting right through them, "that maybe there's a reason for that?"
They're not sure if their desperation for him is making them imagine something that's not there, for if there's a new light in his eyes, that he's looking at them differently. They swallow. "You're picky, is what I always thought."
Matsukawa sighs, and leans back against the wall. "Nah, you're way off."
"Well, then tell me," they insist, and now they're the one inching closer. There's a light knock on the door once more. "Fuck off," they spit out unceremoniously. "What's the reason, Issei?"
He raises an eyebrow. "Why do you wanna know so bad?" he questions.
Their face flushes, and they suddenly feel caught. They force themself to relax, shoulders slumping. "I mean, I dunno. I guess it's just...interesting."
Matsukawa removes his legs from theirs and sits cross-legged in front of them, inching closer. "What's so interesting about it, then?"
The small space of the bathroom suddenly feels much hotter than it did before, like the bright, yellow lights are heating up and burning them. Matsukawa does not once look away from them. "Is it so bad to wanna know things about you?" they question, unable to think of anything else reasonable when he's looking at them like that.
He looks over the details of their face, eyes roaming from the bridge of their nose to their shinning eyes to the curve of their lips. They feel like they can't breathe, when he looks at them like that. "I guess not," he answers softly and evenly. "It's you."
Their mouth feels like it's full of sand. "What?"
Matsukawa reaches forward and loops his fingers around the belt loops of their jeans, and he pulls them closer, sliding them against the tiled floor until their nose almost touches his. The sudden proximity makes their breath catch in their throat.
"I don't want them because they're not you," he says, eyes lowered.
Their eyes are wide and fixed on his, heart beating rapidly in the base of their throat. And they've lost all grip on their thoughts, head now full of buzzing static. All they can focus on his Matsukawa, and the way their body reacts to him.
"The reason I reject everyone is you," he tells them. "It's always been you."
For a moment, his words hang in the air. They don't settle in. They won't really settle in for a while. All that matters to them now is the way Matsukawa is looking at them, eyes intense and unwavering, "Issei," they finally breathe out, able to manage it because his name is one of the few comprehensible thoughts spinning in their head. "I want you."
The words come from them without much consideration of their meaning or implication, but it's true. They do want him. They've always wanted him. And it doesn't take much else for Matsukawa to smirk, and reach his hands up to cup their face, gently pulling them in closer.
And then-
"You two!" Oikawa's voice from the other side of the door rings out, accompanied by his fists slamming against the wood. "I am so sick of you two! Get out here and socialize with everyone else for once! God, with the amount of them you guys have been hiding you better've hooked up by now!"
Matsukawa doesn't even react, like he doesn't even hear the words of his friend as his eyes flutter shut, and his lips finally crash against theirs.
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an: another one down....im afraid i'll be writing these forever......(also first time writing mattsun pls let me know what u think im afraid lmafo)
taglist: @wyrcan @thechaosoflonging @publicbathroompanic @bedeater @rottingt1tz @rintarawr @deluluforcarlos55 @ahseyy @localgaytrainwreck @cherrypieyourface @baskin-robinhoods @polish-cereal @iheartamora @ferntv @eclecticeggknightpsychic @httpakkeiji @does-directions @pinkiscool @michivrse (complete form linked in navigation to be added pls, send me a msg if you would like to be removed)
(my first time remembering to tag ppl in written content <3)
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pixeljade: #it IS very much a complex issue and I feel like saying that has been pissing off a lot of folks on both sides #one fact i would add to the table is that the current actions against palestine DO constitute a genocide by definition #its a word i hear pro-Israel people get very upset by because they think it is inherently comparing this to the holocaust #but its not. some people DO and thats its own discussion. but calling it a “genocide” is simply accurate and undeniable
Speaking as someone who was that pro-Israel person in her teens and very early 20s, the reactions you're describing are 800% cognitive dissonance freak outs. Most of these people, like me, received either directly or indirectly from their Elders in the Jewish community a very trauma-induced and deeply emotional information about the history of this situation, which boils down to: "They tried to kill us all once and they didn't now we finally have returned to the Promised Land, the only place we have to shield ourselves against It Happening Again. Israel's detractors hate that Jews can defend themselves now, and if any of them, including the Palestinians, were to have their way, they'd see us all dead. We must defend ourselves at all costs, and not let anyone ever put us in existential danger as a people ever again."
And then to have some rando 19 year old who knows jack shit about your or your community or your community's trauma to get up in your face and start screaming at you about genocide? It's only going to trigger that intergenerational trauma, and cause the party being screamed at to dig deeper into their defensive, cognitive-dissonance fueled response. Which, if we were to boil that response down to a thought process, looks like "This person hates me and all Jews. They think we're a hive mind who don't deserve to live. Thank G-d for Israel."
What's complex, is that not everything in that trauma response is wrong, and not everything the dumbass 19 yo who has no interest in unpacking their own learned anti-Semitism was wrong.
Israel's actions towards Palestinian Arabs since 1948 does fit several definitions of genocide and/or ethnic cleansing. And many of the Westerners who scream about it the loudest are fairly openly anti-Semitic.
Now, as someone with big Holocaust intergenerational trauma in her family, I am sympathetic to the Jewish kid in this scenario. But cognitive dissonance is just that: the domain of a child. Adults understand that cognitive dissonance is a little voice in our head telling us "Hey comrade our discomfort with this is a little much. Maybe this is a learning opportunity?"
I mean, that's what I did. But it's difficult. Its uncomfortable, and that scares people. It's much easier to believe that "They call it the Naqba because they hate us and think our survival and access to national self-determination is a disaster,"* than it is to understand that "They call it the Naqba because it was the near total dispossession and ethnic cleansing of Palestinian Arab populations from their generational homes and properties."
And again, everything I'm saying here is a result of my journey from a hardcore Zionist-in-the-contemporary-sense child (though always left in terms of domestic US Politics), to a grown Holocaust historian who understands that Israel is no better and no worse than all the other nation states (for new readers, I understand the nation-state as a political entity, the logical end point of which is genocide and/or ethnic cleansing), and openly criticizes it on those grounds.
*A rabbi in a youth group I belonged to told me this almost verbatim when I was 15. And when you're 15 and somebody tells you they love you you're gonna believe them.
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comradekatara · 2 days
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i read somewhere that, after the war, zuko at least hands hama over to the swt instead of keeping her in fire nation prisons 'till the end of her life. Which is nice, I think. But I'm also curious as to how that would work out.
Most notably: how do you think it'd go down if she were to meet Pakku? given they both have some sort of connection to kanna's life, the idea of them being forced to interact even once entertains me very much. like, old waterbending master pakku—white lotus member—who has grown up in a patriarchal society and actively forbidden women from training to fight, under the precedent they are somehow ontologically weaker, fragile, and belonging in the healing huts... THAT guy, meeting his former fiancé's old friend: (or current wife's if you go by canon, which, eugh) A woman who not only fought in the front lines but ended up becoming one of the most skilled, creative, and deadly waterbenders in history. How would he react when finding out that a woman came up with blood bending? How badly would Hama mind-fuck him?? Because I'm confident they'd hate each other's guts-- no way she'd tolerate him,,,
And on a similar note—how would Kanna feel upon reuniting wirh Hama and discovering what she put Katata through, in your opinion? Idk, I'm just full of puppetmaster thoughts today. Hama is incredibly interesting and I wish she wasn't handled so much like a Halloween Specisl creepy witch, (even though katara herself is handled and written pretty well in this episode, i think. but i digress.)
i mean obviously i think about this all the time. i personally think that zuko hands hama over to the swt upon katara's request, and she and aang personally deliver her on appa (sokka is not there, for the very deliberate reason that if he knew what they were doing he would very vocally disapprove). and so katara is sort of retraumatizing herself by doing this, but she also feels like it's necessary specifically because she needs to be able to look hama in the eye and tell her why they're not actually the same (especially now that she actually did bloodbend someone in cold blood). katara has the love and support and safety to step back from her anger and her pain and her grief and hang onto her own humanity and allow herself to be the bigger person even in moments of abject rage and acute trauma, and hama doesn't. hama is a victim of her circumstance, and that's part of what makes her so uniquely terrifying to katara, because katara has that same capacity to make people hurt, she has the same tools at her disposal, and she has the same justifications to exercise that power. but unlike hama, she hasn't actually been pushed past her limits. sometimes she can see the cliff's edge, and sometime she even teeters on the line, but hama was fully just shoved off without a parachute, and that's really what separates them above all. i think katara should be allowed to acknowledge that and forgive herself for that, even if hama doesn't directly apologize to her (although in my mind she does, and it's not enough, but it's also so much more than katara ever expected to hear). even if it is too late for hama, katara deserves to heal.
frankly, i don't really give a shit about pakku or his reaction to hama. i also don't actually think that he thinks woman are ontologically incapable of being talented waterbenders of whatever; he's a pretty worldly guy, the reason he clings to these traditions isn't born of the belief that they're grounded in logical evidence like sokka's is, it's because he believes in the preservation of a system that benefits and valorizes him. pakku thinks katara belongs in the healing huts because he comes from a culture that dictates that women belong in the healing huts. like, he might also subscribe to the bioessentialist logic that women are better healers and men are being fighters, but that honestly doesn't really matter, because (unlike sokka) his epiphany lies not in the fact that woman can fight, but in the fact that his role in upholding these systems has actively driven his loved ones away due to his cruelty. he decides to be kinder, to women and in general, because he realizes that being an asshole has negative consequences. but frankly, who cares what he thinks of hama. realizing that your sister tribe in the south deserves aid and protection after being subjected to a century of genocide is kind of too little too late imo. unlike katara, sokka, aang, or kanna, who can approach this situation from the perspective of being a genocide survivor who even remotely understands hama's trauma, pakku really has no place in this conversation to me.
as for kanna...... god. hama/kanna reunion is genuinely one of the most heart-wrenching concepts to me in all of atla. as a sidenote, hama/kanna fanfic goes so hard every time. there's a total of like 15 fanfics for them on ao3 (last i checked) but they're all sooooooo. fucking delicious. tide locked........... ugh. anyway. i cannot fathom kanna's reaction upon learning that her closest friend once upon a time is not only alive, but also a convicted felon, for crimes including but not limited to manipulating her granddaughter, violating her (and sokka's) bodily autonomy in cruel and perverse ways, and forcing her to participate in that mode of violence in a way that traumatized her forever. even if you don't read them as former lovers (although it is indubitably better that way) it's so gut-churning. kanna lost so many people over the course of her life, and to learn that one of them has returned but in the worst way possible must be mind-boggling and distinctly unreal. like how do you even process that. first, how do you process how much pain she must have went through to become the kind of person who is capable of doing this, and then, how do you process the knowledge that the person you once loved most in the world irreparably hurt the person you now love most in the world? obviously she would always prioritize katara's safety over anyone else's no matter what, but god. kanna has led such a fascinating and impossibly difficult life, and it's not over yet.
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sunriiize · 2 days
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While We're Young | 1.0k
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Anton x reader
Note : this was gonna be part 1 of a series a scrapped 😔 anyways this is heavily based of While We’re Young by Jhenè Aiko
Warnings : first love trope, mention of other idols (Naori Rei), based in America (but I'm British...), kissing, my first time writing purely fluff
You stared at the vacant courtyard, eyes focusing on the way the leaves sway with each blow of wind. You've always found tranquility in nature. Whether it be the chirping of the morning birds or the humming of a bee passing by, it didn't matter. It felt like all the stress of exams and university melted away once you remembered how little you are compared to nature, like a drop of water in the ocean. You were quickly dragged out of your thoughts once you recognised a familiar person strolling through the grassy scenery. Anton.
You knew he didn't have any lectures today so you were surprised to say the least. Hastily, you gathered your belongings and got ready to leave. And as if on cue, your lecturer began to thank everyone for coming as people began to filter out of the room. buzz buzz buzz. Once you stepped into the hallway, you held your phone up to your ear.
"Hi Anton, where are you going?" You spoke as you navigated your way through the busy corridor.
"Hey Angel" He spoke from behind you before ending the call.
"I told you not to call me that!" You pouted and playfully slapped his side. Best friends aren't supposed to say things like that, things that cause butterflies to flutter crazily in your stomach, things that make your heart pound against your ribs.
"Lets say 'fuck everyone' and walk hand and hand to the Sun"
He intertwines his fingers with yours as he says "Don't act like you don't love it" in a teasing tone. You don't reply. Opting for silence rather than letting him hear the truth. You do love it. You love the way it sounds coming out his lips. Gosh, his lips are so pretty, so soft. You just wanna see how they'll feel against your fingers or better yet, your own lips.
"Telling everybody your mine and I like it"
The way your mind reeled over every little thing he did was a common occurrence at this point. It started during the last year high school, it was one of those swimming practices where everyone just felt lazy. As Anton was getting out the pool he asked you to help him but instead of him getting out, you got in. He pulled you close to him as you dropped into the deep end of the pool. Later that evening, as you were trying to sleep, you couldn't take your mind off how his hands felt around you. It was so... odd. If you really wanted to take it back to the root though, you'd have to go back to the start of highschool when you over heard Naoi Rei and her group talking about how good looking Anton is. You felt this weird jealousy and instead of just letting it go you decided to make it very clear that Anton was somewhat yours. Looking back, it was a bit extreme but at least it got the message across.
"Y/n? Helloooo, earth to y/n" he waves his free hand in front of your face. "Sorry, what were you saying" you look up at him with an apologetic smile. He explains the whole thing once again. He tells you how he actually wanted to pick you up from class so you could go to his dorm to have a movie night. Usually you'd show up to Anton's dorm once you had freshened up and gotten snacks but Anton quickly reassured you that the dorm will be empty so you can shower there and he's already gotten the snacks.
"I'll go everywhere you go"
The sun had begun to set by the time you climbed into his bed, leaning your back against the headboard. The familiar scent of your best friend engulfed your senses. Anton adjusted and laid his head on your lap, humming when he feels your fingers run through his fluffy hair.
You sat in a comfortable silence, his focus on the movie as you watched him smile at the screen. Looking up, you see the main couple kissing each other in the rain. Your eyes wander back down and you begin to feel the familiar butterflies fluttering in your stomach.
“Anton?” You whispered, unsure of what you're gonna say next.
"hm?" he smiles as he turns his head towards you.
“Can I kiss you?” You say in the same quiet voice as before, the rhythmic beating of your heat quickly sped up. His eyes widen slightly and his lips part before he nods, tucking his lower lip between his teeth.
You bend down and kiss him hesitantly, savouring the pillowy feeling of his lips. You feel him lean into the kiss before placing his hand on your neck to bring you closer. The room felt like it was spinning by the time you separated. Anton sat up and looked at you with wide eyes. "Again?" he said beneath his breath.
This time was different, more romantic. The way your lips moved against each other could only be described as a dance, both of you moving along with an imaginary beat.
“Wait” you confess as you pulled away from him. He quickly makes some distance between the two of you. “I can’t go further if we’re just friends”.
It’s silent for a couple moments after that, “Anton? Are we just friends”. That’s all it took for the feelings he’s been hiding to just tumble out of him. He quickly denies the question and tells you about how he’s been wanting this for so long but didn’t want to lose you.
“I didn’t want to scare you away” he admits. He was always so considerate, especially when it came to you. "You could never" you reassured him before hugging him.
A familiar sense of tranquility washed over you as you tighten the embrace, nuzzling your head into his chest.
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lesbianphan · 2 days
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I know this is gonna be mushy and overly emotional and I'm sorry for oversharing a bit, but I feel like it's necessary to put into words what rewatching We're All Doomed means to me personally. I watched the kiswe premiere event live and it was one of the most fun nights I've had in a while, even though my life felt extremely hopeless at the time.
And, look, here's the thing: when the WAD premiere dropped, I had completely given up on improving things. In fact, I was very much in the 'doomed' mentality. I had long accepted that there was no way my life would get better. So Dan's message really resonated with me: it's easy to settle for being at rock bottom and thinking that's all there is for me. I was happy to see Dan doing better, but deep down I didn't truly believe his words either, not really. I did want to, but I wasn't quite there. And I don't believe them all the time, as he himself said he doesn't, and doing the show many times hammers the point home into his head.
After experiencing it, I thought maybe, just maybe, I could stop only embracing the void, but start having the courage to exist as well. Putting myself out there more, trying to make a world for myself in which I'm not the :/ emoji all the time. So I applied for the jobs, I wrote what I wanted, I unapologetically embraced the nerdy things and the fandoms I enjoyed. I decided I can choose happiness in the smallest of ways, even when it sounds silly and unimportant. Because it isn't unimportant really if it means something to me.
Rewatching the show last night showed me how much it changed my life and the big leaps it helped me take in life. I have so much more to learn, but I keep telling myself to be brave (lmao sorry had to sneak the Phil reference) and have the courage to exist. Really truly exist out in the world, not hidden inside my room. And sure, some days are harder than the others, some days I really don't like myself at all. Even in those days, though, I tell myself: all I have to do is have the courage to exist.
I went in to watch WAD with no expectations, and I feel like the message of appreciating the little moments was so monumental, it truly absolutely had a huge impact in my own life. I have a job now, and some financial stability. To be honest, I never thought I'd get this job, I might not even have applied if I wasn't in this mindset. In so many ways, Dan and Phil have profoundly changed my life, and I think WAD is just one of those big examples.
I doubt the real humans Dan and Phil will ever understand the impact they've had on this world, but I'll forever wish them the best. I'll always support them, because their creations have irrevocably changed me as a person, and as much as I like joking around and stuff, I'm just thankful that we share this existence, and we get to have fun and be forever changed by it.
Thanks @danielhowell, you'll never know how huge the impact of this show was, but I am truly crying writing this and I hope one day I get to tell you in person how much you inspired me to keep going when no one else would.
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Hello dearest kitty, I'm here begging on my knees for some fluff
Okay okay I'll stop, but it was a funny start especially after your least post, but I really love your writing and I would love to see you write some sub villain X dom hero fluff, about self care and maybe a little bit on self harm cuz I have exams and this is my comfort trope.
But regardless if you write it or not I want you to know that I really appreciate all your work and I it makes such a huge difference in my life, you're one of the people I can look at and be happy 😁💖
tw mention of self-harm
“This is…nice.” The villain frowned and hugged their own legs, almost as if they had never been in a bathtub before. Still tired, they leaned against the tiles of the bathroom wall. All the hero could focus on were their lashes when they closed their eyes.
Admittedly, the hero hadn’t considered this to be the result. They hadn’t expected to end up in bed with their nemesis. It would have been easier if this was part of a mission, they reckoned. But fate was much crueler.
Now feelings were involved. Complicated, difficult feelings. Sometimes they didn’t know if they should blame themselves or the villain. After all, the villain was devoted and passionate. They were tactical and brilliant.
And they were also pretty. Ridiculously pretty.
The hero swallowed.
Why was this happening to them out of all people?
“I don’t think anyone has ever made that kind of effort for me,” the villain said. They smiled and the hero’s heart dropped.
“You mean letting in some water?”
“Well, yeah…and the breakfast. The soft kisses. The massages, you know?” The villain looked at the hero again. “No one has ever done that for me.”
For the hero’s taste, they were too far away from each other. Even though the bathtub wasn’t the biggest, the hero didn’t want to sit on opposite ends. They worried their bottom lip between their teeth.
“Can you come closer?” they asked and the villain nodded, obeying quickly.
The hero let out a shaky breath they didn’t even know they were holding once the villain sat down on their hips. At this point, it was like a drug. The hero craved this affection and these hands on their skin.
It wasn’t just pleasure, it was something more vile. Something that could bleed and die, something that could destroy the hero within seconds.
A few hours ago, they hadn’t realised it. Not really. But now that they knew they weren’t just attracted to the villain, they needed to control themselves.
“You know you deserve it, right?” they asked. The villain didn’t meet their eyes, though. “You deserve nice things.”
“Is this a separating-work-and-personal-life-thing? Because we both know I’ve done despicable things in the past.” The villain looked ashamed. They let their thumb run along the hero’s biceps, almost as if they could distract themselves that way.
“No. I like you the way you are. Even the parts you deem ugly.” The hero touched the scars the villain had tried to hide yesterday gently. They couldn’t stop looking at their nemesis. At their perfect face, their perfect body. The hero wasn’t sure why their melancholy was taking over the now.
Yesterday, they’d been laughing and kissing. They’d never had that much fun in quite a while. But now, responsibility weighed heavy on their shoulders again and they couldn’t bear the feeling of saying goodbye in a few hours.
“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”
“Have I ever been dishonest with you?” the hero asked. Brilliance wasn’t a gift. It was the result of hard work and the hero could appreciate and respect that the villain had been working just as much as they had. Both were the same in that aspect, destroying themselves because that seemed to be logical: working until you had results. No failing, no mistakes. 100%. All the time.
The villain smiled softly. Maybe even sadly.
“When you told me you love me yesterday?” they asked quietly but the hero already shook their head.
“No, that wasn’t a lie.” Their finger traced one of the villain’s scars. Somehow, the bathwater was getting hotter and hotter. The hero closed their eyes as they tried to calm down. “You’re lovely.”
It was only natural, wasn’t it? To be attracted to someone who challenged, yet matched them in so many ways? God, the hero was really at the end of their rope.
“Hm. You know, under all these layers—” the villain touched their chest “—of calculated and raw reason—” they drew a heart with their finger into the hero’s skin “—there’s a very gentle soul inside you.”
“Is that criticism or a compliment?” the hero asked. Again, looking at the villain made their stomach turn. In a good way. Kind of.
Their nemesis smiled.
“Just an observation,” the villain said. They leaned forward and kissed the hero’s cheek. “Thank you for taking care of me. I kinda suck at it.”
The hero’s hand was still on the villain’s scars.
“You just need a little bit of help, that’s all. Everyone does.” The villain was still so close. If the hero moved their head a little, they’d be kissing.
Hell, why was their heart beating so fast?
“Do you think I could be better?” the villain asked. “Do you think I could change?”
“Change is inevitable,” the hero explained. “But I…I got you.”
They held onto the villain a little tighter this time and honestly, they knew why their heart ached when they brought them home.
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holly-opal · 3 days
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Hello...I wanted to make a request that I don't know if it's something personal and I understand that you don't want to do it...but you could do a mr puzzle x helping a reader who suffers from hypersexuality... I will understand that if it may seem uncomfortable to you I won't force you to do it, I just want to feel comfortable with my favorite character
Of course, I am sorry if I do this wrong. I have never written hypersexuality before, so forgive me if I do this wrong.
Tw: Mildly sexual content. Implied SA.
You were walking to your dressing room when Mr. Puzzles went up to you, he put a hand on your shoulder and gave you a warm smile, he asked if you could see him in his office later today, he wanted to talk about something. You blushed and nodded, you have always liked Mr. Puzzles, you found him charming and quite the lovely person to be around, and he was very attractive for a man with a TV for a head, then your mind began to wander and you thought about the two of you together, in your bed hugging and kissing each other, and you two taking your clothes off.... You were doing that again. Thinking sexually about someone or wanting to do sexual things with someone. You felt disgusted with yourself, and thought that Mr. Puzzles wouldn't like that either. He'd probably tell you to piss off, like everyone else you had sexual encounters with. You followed him into his office and sat down in front of him, he offered you a cigarette, you declined. You were never one for smoking, your ex did though, and he was the one who hurt you. Made you do awful things with him. Harmed you in bed. You felt so gross for doing, and even more disgusted with yourself when you actually sorta liked it. He shrugged and blew some smoke, he seemed tense. "I'm going to get real with you, Y/N. I am not very happy with ratings. I am working so hard and yet I'm not getting good results. And production is going up in flames. Ugh..." Mr. Puzzles smoked some more, he was stressed, you had an idea on how to release it though. You got up from your chair and sat on his lap, he started blush and stare at you in surprise, you began to praise him for his good work and rubbed your hands on his chest.
Mr. Puzzles was touched by this, his face was beet red and he was starting to like it. But he see that you weren't doing this out of your own volition, he could tell that you weren't happy about this. He grabbed your wrists and put them away, you were afraid now, you didn't know what came over you, you expected him to get mad at you or throw you off of him or hit you. He didn't though, he picked up you and set you down on your feet. He sighed and kneeled down to your level, you began to tear up and look away from his gaze. He had seen this kind of behavior before, in television and in his actors. He gave you a very big hug, you started to cry and hugged him back. Those thoughts in your head were killing you. 'Your disgusting', 'nobody will love you if you keep doing that', 'your just like your ex, only worse'. You've heard these words before, but still, it kept repeating in your head multiple times. You were sobbing into Puzzle's shoulder, leaving a wet spot of where your tears went. Mr. Puzzles pulled away from the hug, ye was smiling at you, and he was patting you in the back.
"Mi amor, I know that you are hurting, but this isn't the right way to go. You don't have to give yourself to me so that I could feel better. I am not mad, but we need to work on your issues." You nodded, wiping away some tears with your sleeves. Mr. Puzzles grabbed a box of tissues and handed some to you, you blew your nose and threw it away. He stood up and held out his hand. "How about this? We'll both talk about safe outlets for your behavior, that way you won't get hurt by anyone. And then afterwards, we can go to dinner. How does that sound?" Mr. Puzzles asked. You smiled and nodded, you clearly needed to work through your issues, a nice talk and maybe even a therapist will help. You took his hand and you both walked out of his office, you felt relieved in a way. He did not judge you, and he even offered to help you, many would've just left you immediately. Your love for him deepened, and his love for you has not changed, you were still his little star.
(Again, I am sorry if I did this wrong. I hope this brings comfort to you, my friend.)
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mcflymemes · 3 days
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THE EMPEROR'S NEW GROOVE (2000) PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue from the film, adjust as necessary
how shall i do it?
oh, is that hard to believe?
is this really the best you could do?
check out this piece of work.
i'm here because i received a summons.
word on the street is you can fix my problem.
the drinks were a bit on the warm side.
okay, i admit it. maybe i wasn’t as nice as i should have been.
do you really want to kill me?
so is everything ready for tonight?
i thought we’d start off with a soup and a light salad, and then see how we feel after that.
we’re about to go over a huge waterfall.
bring it on.
you got all that, honey?
what about dinner?
all right. a quick cup of coffee.
but what does that have to do with anything?
you’re sort of confusing me.
how did you get back here before us?
by all accounts, it doesn’t make sense.
i never liked your spinach puffs.
ah. should have seen that coming.
you know what, you could have told me that before i set it up.
now you stop being hard on yourself. all is forgiven.
it’s not the first time i was tossed out of a window, and it won’t be the last.
what can i say? i’m a rebel.
i can’t believe this is happening!
break the door down!
are you kidding me? this is hand-carved mahogany.
so you lied to me.
couldn’t pull the wool over your eyes, huh.
why did i risk my life for a selfish brat like you?
i was always taught that there was some good in everyone, but, oh, you proved me wrong.
now i feel really bad.
you threw off my groove!
he didn’t pay his check.
this had better be good!
this is the last time we take directions from a squirrel.
yeah, like that would ever happen.
will you take a look at this?
oh, is that hard to believe?
just thought i’d give you a heads up.
what do you mean the door’s stuck? try jiggling the handle.
you’re the criminal mastermind here, not me.
just leave me alone.
it’s my birthday gift to me. i’m so happy.
hey, it doesn’t always have to be about you.
uh, he doesn’t really wanna talk to you.
hey, did you see that sky today? talk about blue.
don’t drink the wine.
our moment of triumph approaches!
oh, he’s doing his own theme music.
i’m so glad i was unconscious for all of this.
you’re not just gonna let him die like that, are you?
don’t listen to that guy.
if it were me, i’d march right back there and demand to see him.
you just saved my life!
believe it or not, i think i need a bath.
maybe i’m just new to this whole rescuing thing, but this, to me, might be considered kind of a step backwards.
i ate a bug today!
what is this guy babbling about?
i’ll be sure to tell him you stopped by.
i gotta go wash something.
anything sounds bad when you say it with that attitude.
let me guess, you have a great personality.
thanks for going back on your promise!
how long has that been there?
someday you’re gonna wind up all alone, and you’ll have no one to blame but yourself.
hmm. don’t know, don’t care. how’s that?
for the last time, it was not a kiss.
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Is Ruggie submissive to you if you're a woman or do you not count because you're human?
Sort of depends on a few things, plus are we talking regular Ruggie or Nonhuman Au Ruggie?
With general stuff, according to the wiki-
Leona has stated he is intimidated by the women of the Afterglow Savanna because they are much physically stronger and more strong-willed than the men, including himself. Ruggie corroborates this statement and mentions he feels the same.
This follows the biology of many savanna animals, such as lions and hyenas, wherein the females are hunters and typically dominant in nature.
Now with regular Ruggie, regardless of being a human woman, I would say if you had similar traits to the woman where he's from? Then yeah, even if you don't have the strength those ladies have, having that type of personality could trigger those submissive tendencies.
Now, the Human AU? Not so much since in this the beasties are naturally bigger and stronger than humans in it. Not to say Ruggie would suddenly be all big and strong in this version, but definitely more so than some human girl, though his own kinds women would still be stronger and more dominant than the men like in the OG, just with that extra beastliness.
Now having that kind of personality might get him a few times but once he realizes you don't have the bite to back up that bark? Well, he wont get too bad since his grandma raised him better than that but he's def going to get a kick out of it. A guy like him doesn't get to feel powerful often and he'll want to have a bit of fun with the situation, time to tease.
Since I'm into weak little humans/big beasts/monsters, the reader/yuu in the AU, at least in my head isn't exactly big or strong and is usually submissive. Though I'm cool with writing or talking about it being different from that.
Anyway, if you're smaller than him and don't have the whole strong/dominant personality thing going? Then nah, you likely won't see that suby side until he gets to courting. Though he would likely be bolder and less anxious since he wouldn't have to worry about you beating his ass if rejected like with hyena girls. With regular hyenas, the males typically get ignored or even attacked when showing interest.
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drdemonprince · 3 days
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I've noticed a pattern in anticapitalist books I read (specifically I'm talking abt Mark Fisher here, in Capitalist Realism). They do this great anticapitalist analysis etc and then go on to critique their students? and sometimes it's a bit ableist? it's like all the critical thought goes out of the window and they cannot understand the situation because for once suddenly they are in the authoritative position. It always gives me this "I don't understand these kids, back in my day-" vibe, and I see this with lecturers at university too. like Mark Fisher maybe we can think outside the box about your student who "needs" headphones to focus in class "even though no music is playing". and maybe it's not to do with the "Matrix"(????) I'm well aware this was written in 2008 but it's weird that I see this pattern continue today. Not to mention Mark Fisher took part in some ableist studies, and was a guy with questionable intentions on occasion.
it's like you Just said that reducing labour is good why are you calling your students lazy, that's so unprofessional and privileged. I wonder of coincidence that he is anti-meds when his right wing, pro-eugenics, accelerationist friend was addicted to amphetamines.
Or even just the amount of people who have written books about laziness and anticapitalism (excluding you) and just saying the most contradictory shit ever?? or not following their own ideology???
Anyway, I wonder if, when writing Laziness Does Not Exist, you came across any of this and were equally as baffled.
Materialism is just *so* true that high-status academics don't have a vested class interest in seeing their student struggles as legitimate or in recognizing the struggles of disabled people in general. For many edgy academic leftists having the correct opinions is just a way to flex one's intellectual status, not a lived experience they give a shit about. I'm not shitting Fisher in particular in saying this, it's more that it's a really widespread problem in the culture of these kinds of (very white, very academic, very cishet) leftists communities. You see the same kind of thing among some of the Chapo stan types, too, you don't have to be specifically an academic to do it -- lots of people throwing around the r-slur and flexing on how much they have read and doing fuck all for the oppressed people around them. I tend to find it especially common among people who inherited leftism from their (often academic) parents? Whereas leftist communities populated by Black & brown anarchists and working class people tend to fare a lot better in this particular respect.
Note that I'm not saying a person's identities are a guarantee of them being any more radical -- there's lots of liberals lurking in our midsts of all identities for instance -- more that someone's orientation toward power tells you a lot. and unfortunately there is an approach to leftism that puts a lot of stock in either institutional power via the academy, or in a kind of soft power of intellectual authoritativeness that tends to punish anyone who is supposedly less well read, less intelligent, lazy, needs disability accommodations, has trauma triggers, or what have you.
The simple answer is that power and privilege obscures other people's challenges from you, and the desire to preserve one's power (be it actually institutional academic authority or just the status of the person who supposedly knows the most in the room) leads to a lot of oppressive behavior. a lot of these guys that you're talking about believe in communism sincerely but they don't have humility, they believe themselves to be superior to most everyone else. and they tend to be white guys from wealthy families who either do not have any disabilities of their own, or they have the undiagnosed intj mastermind rational flavor of autism that makes you feel incredibly alienated from others but interpret that alienation as a sign of your intellectual superiority. (i had this type but i got better. a little)
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sunkissed-zegras · 2 hours
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manager literally having to handle every single thing and js bein emotionally exhausted, one day she’s just completely overstimulated from everything and walks out to let herself cry
i love angst sorry🤘
𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 ─ UCONN WBB MANAGER
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౨ৎ ─ summary | after a shitty week, manager breaks down over a stupid test score and her teammate helps her through it.
─ word count | 919
─ warnings | NIKA AND MANAGER BONDING TIME YIPEE! angsty af, hurt to comfort, manager putting too much pressure on herself, midterms (BLEHHH), pretty sure nothin else?
─ taglist | @xocherishxo @iienstein @yazmunson @euphternal @uraesthete @hello-nah817 @wanderlusturous and here's a link to my taglist if anyone would like to join!!
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YOUR ENTIRE WEEK had been shit, to put it simply.
Scratch that, your entire month had been pretty shitty. Your midterms had gone terrible, your headaches have been becoming way more painful and more frequent and on top of all of that, you bled through your pants. Twice.
With play-off season arriving in about couple weeks, practices had been running later and later. You spent the entire practice usually on the phone, trying to figure out routes to away games, trying to coordinate transportation for the team, and dealing with the last-minute changes and complications that seemed to plague every plan you made.
As the playoff season even nearer, the pressure mounted to new heights. Every decision felt like it carried the weight of the world, and the fear of letting down your team gnawed at your insides.
Geno had told you that you could leave early if you absolutely needed to, but you hated feeling useless. You wanted to be able to do your job without letting your own personal issues get in the way but right now, it felt like you were way in over your head. Despite Geno's offer to leave early, the guilt gnawed at you, whispering that you were failing in your duties as a manager.
As today's practice wore on, your headache intensified, pulsing behind your eyes with an intensity that threatened to consume you. You clenched your jaw against the pain, willing yourself to push through, but with each passing moment, it felt like the weight on your shoulders grew heavier.
Your phone buzzed against your thigh and you picked it up, reading the notification. Your heart had dropped to your stomach as you read the email ─ you had failed your Geo midterm.
You threw your phone against the hardwood floors, feeling your eyesight become blurry. That was cherry on top, that was the final straw. Tears stung at the corners of your eyes as you struggled to regain control of your emotions. You got up from the bench, picking up your phone as you sniffled.
"Whoa, Y/N? Are you good?" You turned to meet Nika's eyes as yours widened in shock. You immediately wiped your tears as you averted your gaze.
Nika was thankfully the only person on the court right now, everyone else was in the locker-room getting ready for practice. Nika finished up early, like she usually did.
You sniffled again. "Yeah, I'm fine."
"You're not, tell me what's bothering you. Who was it? Was it Paige or Geno, because I swear-"
"No, no." You sighed loudly as Nika's expression softened. "Just allergies. I need to go get something from my dorm, I won't be long."
Nika scoffed as she watched you walk away, her eyes narrowing with concern despite your attempt to brush off the situation.
"Allergies, my ass," she muttered under her breath, though she knew better than to push you further when you were clearly not ready to talk.
You went to your dorm and cried your eyes out, that was the only thing you felt like you could do. You almost debated whether or not you should go back to practice until you remembered that you left all your stuff there.
As you got up to the door, you heard a knock on your door. Your furrowed your eyebrows in confusion as you opened the door, revealing Nika. She held your bag in one hand and hers in the other, a warm smile on her lips.
You opened the door wider so that she could come in. Without a word, she set down both her bag and yours as you closed the door behind her.
"Practice ended early so you didn't miss anything," Nika spoke as she gave you a smile. She sat down on your bed as she gestured for you to come and sit.
"Thanks for bringing my bag," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper as you struggled to find the right words to express the depth of your gratitude.
Nika waved off your thanks with a casual shrug, her gaze reassuring. "No problem. I figured you could use a break from everything."
Then, with a small sigh, Nika reached out and took your hand in hers, her touch a comforting. "One test doesn't define your entire career, Y/N. I promise you, it will not matter after you graduate. It probably won't even matter in a month, or maybe even a week."
Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, Nika had completely read you like a damn book. "How did you know?"
Nika just scoffed, "You think we don't listen when you ramble on about your tests and shit? We do, and trust me we know you better than you think."
A soft chuckle escaped your lips at her blunt honesty, the tension that had coiled tight in your chest slowly starting to unravel. It was true ─ Nika and the rest of the team had always been there to listen, even when you thought no one was paying attention.
"Look, Y/N." Nika kept her gaze on you, her expression serious. "We love you and we need you, but don't ever put us over your mental health. We need you all in one piece if you're gonna take care of us, right?"
"So, for us. Take the weekend off and come back on Monday, alright?" Before you could protest, Nika sent you a stern look and you sighed loudly. Nika's expression dissipated into a warmer one as she smiled, "That's our girl."
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miller-n-morgan · 21 hours
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And I Feel Fine (.ii)
Joel Miller x Jackson!Reader
18+, mdni
Summary: A new journey lies ahead, and on the very first night you become sure of something that will completely change the trajectory of your entire future.
Warnings: leaving most of the warnings the same because they apply. mentions of death, violence, gore, blood, mentions of sex abuse and trafficking. Mentions of teenage pregnancy. Mention of drugs and substances. Again, literally has ✨️the works.✨️
Word Count: 7k (i'm going absolutely wild)
Now we're cookin'.... enjoy this slice of my brain that I spent entirely too long on. And also know that the first part of the Arthur Morgan series will probably drop this week.
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“I ain’t shittin’ you.” You were fine to leave it at that, but he sure as hell wasn’t. For a guy that hated long conversations, he seemed to like poking around in your business.  “And what makes you think that?”  You honestly didn’t want to tell him. He’s not Tommy, he might make fun of you, might store away the information later on and use it against you. You have no idea, actually. You don’t know him. 
Your contact had gotten you to an apartment. It was worn down, just as every other place in the QZ seemed to be, but it was better taken care of. The people living here must have been attentive about the appearance of their home. A good enough family to leave your baby with. 
She stopped you in the hallway, knocking three times on the old wood door, hearing a lively voice from the otherside before it opened. The woman standing there was lovely, about thirty or so, a half smile on her face when she saw you both had arrived. This plan had been in the works for some time now. 
“Hello, I’m Maxine Williams,” she greeted, reaching for your hand to shake. You did your best to match her kind and infectious energy, giving her a smile in return. She is after all going to be doing you the favor of a lifetime. 
“It’s nice to meet you,” you replied, keeping your head low between your shoulders, though you felt comfortable in her presence. 
She leaned into your contact, turning her head, but you heard the whisper “She’s so young…” 
“S’why she needs help.” 
You understood that this didn’t look right. You should not be pregnant at your tender age, should not have been put in this position. You’ve seen more horrific things than any person ever should, and it all started when you were eight… outbreak day. 
“Of course… come in, both of you.”
The pleasantries went on for a while, exchanging information of where you came from, why you were in this area, what you did before being in Boston. She mentioned her husband, her two sons and their love for older things, wishing for the world the way it was. It was all just small talk, leading up to the actual conversation topic: the baby she was about to take off your hands. 
“You’ll stay with us until the birth, if that’s okay,” she offered, but it sounded more like a demand. It wasn’t a harsh or cruel one. Even if you slept on the rickety couch you were lounging upon now, it would be better than camping in the woods, sleeping on the hard ground like you’d been doing only a month ago. 
“I’ll do whatever you want me to.”
Your contact was happy to see both ends so receptive. She’d never seen a deal containing human life go down this smoothly. Probably because this was a bit more sensitive of an exchange. 
“Good… that’s good. I’ve heard you’re interested in a closed adoption?” 
You glanced down at your stomach, feeling the weight of it, crushing inwards on the rest of your body. Having this baby and giving it away will relieve the weight both physically and metaphorically. They’ll be in good hands, better than your own could ever be. 
“I think it’s probably best. I used to have siblings, but I never really took care of them… I’m not sure I could do this,” You shook your head. You saw her younger son peeking his head out of the bedroom door in the corner, backing away as soon as you caught him. Even in an apocalypse, a child can be happy… just not with you. “I want to give them their best chance.”
“I understand…  and we’re going to do our best to make sure they have a normal childhood,” she responded, leaning forward and placing a comforting hand on your knee. 
“Thank you…”
You had sat down on one of the containment units, feeling as though the adrenaline rush from the ambush was beginning to wear off. Tommy found Maria not far away from where you were sitting, and began to ask his special favor. It was crazy, he knew it, you knew it… but it had to be done. This girl was somehow important, to the fireflies and to all of mankind, and you were starting to wonder why. Joel hadn’t said a word, sitting across from you and awaiting the news that would surely come from his brother’s discussion with his wife. 
“So, you’ve been traveling with Ellie?” 
He looked up at you from his boot laces, his eyes were heavy, and he didn’t seem in the mood to talk. He was grumpy in nature, but you could tell there was more underneath the tough exterior.
“I have.” And no further explanation was given. 
You didn’t think it was best to keep trying your luck, keep on asking him questions. He wasn’t the talking type and you figured you’d be wasting your time… but speak of the devil, Ellie came up to him just as the conversation between Tommy and Maria was getting heated. 
“What’s that all about?” She nodded in their direction. She looked scared, like a deer caught in headlights, just not as frozen. Wide eyed and unable to look away from the scene. “Does that have anything to do with me?” 
She was smart, she’d pick up on the words they were saying - more like yelling - to each other. The context clues were there, Joel would have to be an idiot to think she’d just let him off the hook. 
“We’ll talk about it later…” he grumbled, his annoyance already at a high from your unimportant questions and the fighting in the background. 
“Did he tell you where the lab is?” She asked, her eyebrows furrowing as she got even closer to hear them. 
The lab? Is that where the fireflies would be? You vaguely remember the days you spent with the resistance group, but you don’t remember anything about a lab…
“We’ll talk about it later,” he repeated himself, almost as a warning. 
She turned to Tommy and Maria, then back to Joel, her face one of distrust and sadness. She knew, she could tell. Joel was trying to get rid of her. 
You wanted to say something, to jump in and tell her that she didn’t need to be scared, didn’t need to be worried about where she was going. That you would go with her and it would be okay… but that wouldn’t help a damn thing. Even if you turn out to be her biological mother, you are most definitely not her mom, and cannot console her as one.
“Later… right,” she trailed, backing away from Joel and off to another sectional of the checkpoint. 
Joel looked back to you, your eyes already on him. 
He sighed, at first not saying a word… but when he made a full rotation of his eyeline and you were still staring holes into him, he had to speak up. 
“If you’re lookin’ to judge me, then just-.” 
“I’m not.” 
Your interruption cut him off, and he didn’t really know what else to say. He nodded, not looking away from you, but rather trying to figure out what it is you needed from him. Your stare was not discomforting but it felt demanding. It wanted something.
“How long have you known her?” You finally spit out, tucking a leg under your elbow as you sat back. You knew you’d gotten his attention, now. 
“Few months, now. I’m supposed to take her to the fireflies as a favor to someone.” 
“What do the fireflies want with a fourteen year old kid?” 
He sighed, raising his shoulders in a shrug like he didn’t know. He must’ve been lying, right? You’d gotten pretty good at reading people, but for some reason you couldn’t tell with him. Maybe you just didn’t know him well enough… 
“M’not really sure. All I knew in the beginning was that I could get paid pretty well, so I took her.”
You nodded. He didn’t seem like the person that did things for the sake of them, Tommy had told you stories about him, the things he used to do. If it was for his survival, he’d do it… but just for the sake of getting paid? When barely anything left had real monetary value? It sounded like bullshit. 
“She seems to trust you an awful lot,” you gestured between him and the empty space she’d left. 
There was another beat of silence, to which he didn’t use for reply. Instead he sat, his back curled over and his shoulders sunken inwards. He was tired, he was worn. He needed to rest, but this life wouldn’t let him.
“She knows you’re handing her off…”
“I reckon she does, yeah.” 
And right over your shoulder you heard the climax of Tommy and Maria’s argument. She held a pointed finger in his face, before he finally insisted on Joel’s plan. She couldn’t move him. He was going to do this whether she liked it or not… which is something you haven’t seen out of Tommy for years. Joel must mean a hell of a lot to him, to up and leave Maria on a dangerous errand like this. 
You stay seated when Maria walks over to Joel, and then when Joel stands up to talk to Tommy. You stay seated and think… I can keep Tommy safe. I’ve got nothing to lose, and everything to gain from learning about this girl. I can bring him home to Maria, even if it means my life. 
But you immediately stand when you hear Tommy’s rapid speech. “That girl of yours. she took one of our horses and rode off,” and then he glanced at you with an eyeroll. “She took provoker…”
You huffed a sigh, following the men over to the front of the sectional, the open trail up ahead. Maria was mad at Tommy, so obviously she wouldn’t be accompanying them… and that left you. Casper didn’t like men. 
“Damnit, which way?” Joel asked, his steps were heavy on the muddy ground. 
“I just saw her riding out of here!” Terry yelled, loosening the reins on two more horses he’d brought over for assistance. 
“Alright, get back inside, help the others clean the place up,” Tommy told the man, nodding for you to mount the back of his horse after he’d climbed up himself. You chanced a look at Joel, riding across from you both. His face was mixed with anger and determination, and it reminded you of what Tommy looked like after hours of hunting. They were the epitome of brothers, though you’d never met the other half before. 
You all followed the tracks, leading every which way it seemed. Some of the tracks were fresh, and some were older, but it was hard to tell when the grounds here were moist all the time, never really drying up and creating lasting prints on the dirt. 
After a while of riding, and running into some raiders - who were easily fended off - you saw your horse standing in front of an old farmhouse, the reins tied to a pole holding up the roof of the porch. You jumped from Tommy’s mare and ran up to Casper, petting his mane and making sure he was alright. There didn’t seem to be a scratch on him. 
You watched Joel enter the house, waiting back with Tommy. Even though Joel was the one she ran away from, you couldn’t imagine she’d be thrilled to see you or Tommy instead. Joel had a good reason to do what he did. He didn’t feel strong enough or fast enough for this job anymore. He didn’t feel like he could keep her safe. You unfortunately understood that feeling a little too well, and if you were correct on your suspicions, it would have been with the exact same kid. 
Tommy unstrapped his gun from his back, holding it steady and watching the surroundings whilst he leaned against the porch beam you were standing by. He was trying to gage whether or not your horse was calm enough for him to approach you closer, knowing what would happen if he wasn’t. 
“I think you’re right, you know…” He trailed, his voice quiet on the off chance of an open window. 
“You do?” 
You turned to him, you didn’t exactly have to think twice about what he meant. 
“Yeah,” he nodded, a chuckle falling from his lips. “It makes sense… the timing n’ everything. She looks a hell of a lot like you… and she’s caused about as much trouble today as the first time I met you.”
“Causing trouble is genetic?” You laughed, your eyes watering a bit at the implications he made. She might be yours. Your daughter, who you didn’t think you’d see again. 
“Hell, it might be. Your kinda trouble, anyway… stealin’ horses and shit.”
The nod of your head was slow, the thought of this all sinking in. It made perfect sense and yet coming to terms with the facts of ‘it is’ instead of ‘it could be’ makes you feel light headed.
You didn’t know if he was being serious or if he was just trying to make you feel better, but the look on his face told you the former. He wouldn’t just lie to you, he knew you could read him. 
“I keep turning it over in my head, tryin’ to think of ways I could prove it to myself… I think just seein’ her was enough for me. I’m remembering things I thought I forgot about a long time ago.”
Now it was his turn to nod, but your moment was caught short when you heard a branch snap around the corner. You instinctively pulled your gun from your pants, holding it out in the direction the snap came from. Tommy raised his rifle, doing the same and gesturing for you to go inside. You both made it in the doorway before the threat made itself known. Two guys, coming around the corner. They hadn’t realized you were watching them yet, but they did a quick scan, making sure there wasn’t any immediate danger. 
“Get upstairs,” he said in a whisper, but you snapped your head to face him. 
“No way, the odds are even if I stay,” you argued, but he wasn’t exactly in the mood for a fight right now. It was too risky to have you both down here. 
“Go tell Joel to get his ass down here, you stay up with the kid.” 
“Like hell I’m going up there. Your brother scares me,” you say in a half joking mumble, keeping watch on the two strangers that were now surrounding your horse. They were about to get kicked in the ass if they didn’t step away. 
Tommy realizes that them being distracted gives a good amount of time to leave without cover. 
“Alright, but you first,” he shrugged a shoulder towards the staircase, and with one last glance to your horse, you left your corner by the window. 
You quickly ran up the stairs, ducking a head in a few rooms before finding the one Joel and Ellie were in. 
“Get it together, we’re not alone,” Tommy said as soon as you got inside the door.
“I got two walking in,” Joel leaned towards the sliding window to get some eyes on the situation. 
“There’s more inside already…”
 You backed against the door, Tommy against the dresser on the opposite side. Joel stepped over in front of you, and Ellie behind Tommy. You didn’t realize until now, but taking a glance at Ellie, she looked even worse than when she left. Her face was sullen and her head was dropped. She didn’t seem to be snapping into reality, even with the weight of the situation. 
You stayed by her throughout the house, when Tommy and Joel started shooting, you stood in front of her, covering them from back behind. It was weird, these maternal feelings that had never sparked within you before, only now arising for this specific human that had no clue who you were. 
Once outside, it seemed strange. The dynamic between the four of you was so incredibly awkward. Everyone was thinking on a different topic, and the silence could echo on for miles. You nodded for Ellie to mount the back of your horse, since she didn’t seem comfortable to ride with Joel for the time being. She climbed up behind you and for a second you smiled, because this is your daughter, you know it… but soon after, your mind quickly succumbed to the general silence.
The nature and scenery surrounding you seemed to be duller than before, the pretty autumnal colors becoming ugly in the sense that you didn’t appreciate them right now. You loved the beginning of fall, but the feelings spread among you are tense and terrible, worse than raking up the fallen leaves before winter. 
The feeling never leaves, it stays until you all reach the edge of the town. 
-
“I’m not hungry,” you swore, shoving the extra plate of food away from your placemat.
Manxine’s husband was hungry, and you’d noticed him and his wife being decent enough to give you some of their food the past few days. It wasn’t necessary, because you weren’t working, and you weren’t barely helping them. They were helping you, and you couldn’t be more grateful. Taking extra food that wasn’t just lying around felt like stealing. You’d never been a stranger to it before, but these people were far too kind, too gentle. They made you feel like maybe the world wasn’t completely at its end. It still turned, and people were still good, despite everything. 
“Yes you are, and you should be,” Maxine pushed the plate back in front of you. Her goal had been to ‘put a little meat on your bones’ as long as you were under her roof. 
“I’m fine, I promise.”
“Promise or no promise, you need to eat more. You’re still too thin to try and survive childbirth, ya hear?” She put the old fork back into your open hand, and you sighed. It was sometimes hard to eat more than you normally did, on the account of your body not being used to it. If you ate more than usual would it make you sick? If you threw up the extra rations they were spotting you, you’d feel terrible, but she kept insisting. 
You opened your mouth to take a bite, swallowing it down and feeling the slight discomfort start to settle. Already you’d been eating a lot more than before the QZ, and you didn’t realize how slowly your appetite would have to grow. 
After a few more bites you had to drop the fork to your plate, feeling too full already to keep on. You felt terrible, refusing extra portions that were meant to keep you healthy. Whether or not it was caused by the pregnancy hormones, or just your own emotional breakdown, you weren’t sure… but you started tearing up while sitting at the table. 
“I’m sorry,” you shook your head, covering your mouth and sitting back while the tears rolled down. 
“Don’t you apologize, sweetheart,” Maxine uttered softly, her presence at your side immediately. 
To her, none of this effort was wasted, or overdone. She and her husband, though some of the better off people in the QZ by job merritt, couldn’t seem to have another baby. It wasn’t for the lack of trying, or stress that they couldn’t afford it. It was simply the fact that after six years from their last child, they couldn’t conceive another. This baby, your baby, was going to be a gift to them. They were happy to take any necessary steps into getting you to childbirth. 
“I just can’t eat anymore,” you tried to justify your emotions, but now it only looked like an overreaction. People are dying without food, and here you are, crying about there being too much. 
“It’s alright. Leftovers don’t go to waste in this house,” she spoke, a bit of a chuckle in her tone, which alleviated some of the pressure you felt. 
“Okay,” you nodded, letting her take your plate to the other room, likely where her husband had retired to. 
The campfire was crackling, the smoke filling the hazy navy color of the dark sky. Trees had covered it mostly, but there were a few stars peaking here and there. You’d just finished a can of chicken soup, tossing it on the pile that had been started by the others. It was crazy, how you suddenly remembered so much, just by eating food out of a can again. Days on the run, with the fireflies, being a raider even… it all came back. 
It had only been a few hours or so since leaving Jackson, but after the fiasco of today, the three of you had gotten extremely tired a lot earlier than you should have. 
The three of you meaning: Yourself, Joel and Ellie. 
After the silence of the horse ride back to the commune, something had changed. Joel realized not only what Ellie meant to him, but what he means to Ellie. He’d decided Tommy was no longer required, and that he could fare the journey on his own. Of course, you immediately volunteered an extra pair of hands and a quick gun as assistance. To your surprise, it was Ellie who was your greatest advocate. Her, and the fact that you remembered the lab’s location, could probably get her there on your own if you had to. 
The mirror building… you don’t remember it being a lab, but as soon as Tommy said the words it jogged your memory.
Now you were here, sitting with your back against a log, and staring holes into the shoulder of a fourteen year old girl. 
“Whatch’u lookin’ at?” Joel asked, his arms crossed over his chest as he lazily reclined against a tree. 
You only looked away for a second, too fixated on what was just barely peeking over the collar of Ellie’s shirt and jacket. It had fallen down a bit when she laid down to sleep.
“Nothin’,” you shrugged it off. He was a man of few words, surely he’d drop it on account of having to speak more if he didn’t… but God help him, he’s like a damn cat, his curiosity could kill him. 
“You’re very focused on nothin’,” he teased. There was something off about you with Ellie, he’d taken notice of it. He didn’t know what it was about but it didn’t seem like a danger.
You rolled your eyes over to him, but could tell by his glance back that he wouldn’t quit. He’d already volunteered to take the first watch, and he had nothing else better to do. 
“It’s a long story, you’d get bored.”
But again, he had nothing better to do. 
“Try me,” he raised his shoulders in a shrug of his own. He seemed much more docile of a creature in this setting. The early hours of night, so quiet, and dimly lit. His voice was gentle and his features were soft. He was relaxed.
You took a deep inhale, trying to brace yourself for whatever came of this. He was a fresh face, someone new to explain an old wound to. The scar had finally healed and you were about to dig a blade back through and rip it open… but you suppose you’d sharpened the knife by coming along in the first place. 
“I think Ellie’s my daughter,” you breathed out, not checking for a reaction until he’d been silent too long. His eyes were narrow, and he tilted his head, looking between you two. She was fast asleep by now, but he had a picture of her in his head, comparing it to you. 
“You’re shittin’ me, right?” 
You blew out another long breath, shaking your head and rolling your eyes. He doesn’t get it. He doesn’t know this feeling you have or the fact that you’ve never felt it before. He doesn’t understand that you’d come to peace with the fact that you’d never see her again, and then she appeared like a ghost from your past. You thought she was your past self at first, taunting you, making fun of who you were now. 
“I ain’t shittin’ you.”
You were fine to leave it at that, but he sure as hell wasn’t. For a guy that hated long conversations, he seemed to like poking around in your business. 
“And what makes you think that?” 
You honestly didn’t want to tell him. He’s not Tommy, he might make fun of you, might store away the information later on and use it against you. You have no idea, actually. You don’t know him. 
You let your eyes flick up to the stars, hoping by some miracle they will fall from the heavens in the form of angels to give you a message, that message being: shut the fuck up and don’t spill your guts to a man you met this morning. 
“When I was thirteen, I was by myself. I fell into a weird group of people that could probably be considered a cult. There was this one guy that treated me better than the others…” you trailed off, not sure if you’re ready to rehash all of this. But it’s been a long time since you talked about it. You need to get it off your chest if you’re to somehow make a relationship with the product of your past. “He was in his twenties, so a lot younger than most people in the group. Pretty sure I was the youngest. I didn’t realize he was using me.”
Joel was tense, but not because he was uncomfortable… he was genuinely invested. Wanted to know this story and how it connected with Ellie. His Ellie.
“We left the group, and I found out I was pregnant a few months later. I’d barely had my cycle a fucking year… wasn’t even sure what it meant when I didn’t get it. Anyways,” you had to stifle a laugh, because just looking back… what the actual hell? You kept blinking to make sure no tears escaped in front of this man. You weren’t there yet with him. “I think he just lost all interest in me after that. He didn’t really speak to me unless it was necessary, and wouldn't look at me. Stuff like that.”
But that wasn’t the worst part, and Joel knew you were working your way up to it. 
“Before I was pregnant I used to sneak into places most people couldn’t. I was real skinny like that. Was able to smuggle stuff in and out of different QZs across the country. We peddled rare narcotics for the most part… but I had to stop when I, you know…” you made a round hand motion around your stomach, hoping he got the jist. “I didn’t fit in the smaller spaces.”
“What kind of narcotics?” Joel finally asked a question, and it wasn’t really the one you were hoping for… but you understood he’d probably fallen into the same scheme over the years. 
“Vicodin, mostly. Up in Princeton there was this one apartment… we’d searched it top to bottom because of how many secret hiding places there were. Vicodin everywhere. Whoever lived there was either severely addicted or preparing for the worst.”
“Maybe both.”
Yeah, probably. Damn shame he never got to use them.
“We used it as a trading token most of the time. It was actually what got us into Boston,” you waved off your tangent eventually, getting back to the story and where Ellie came in. “Pretty much gave the rest of our stash to a contact we had there… she got us a family we could hand the baby off to.” 
And now he got it. You’d been knocked up by a predator, and said predator wanted you to give up the baby so he could go about using you some more. He’d seen and done some cruel things in a post apocalyptic world, but he would never stoop that low, and grimaced at anyone who possibly could.
“I had her when I was fourteen. Lookin’ at her today was like looking in a mirror,” you rambled on, still not quite to your point. “She’s the right age, from the right location… and that birthmark on her shoulder…”
He hadn’t even noticed it all this time. Months with the kid, and he thought nothing of it. But to you, it was clarification. It was the confirming piece of evidence that pulled it all together. You’d barely taken your eyes off of it since you saw it. You wanted to make sure you weren’t seeing things. Wanted to make sure it was the right shape and placement, just so you could be sure. 
He nodded, seemingly coming to this conclusion now, too. It didn’t take him any more convincing. It was clear by now that your hunch was not just a hunch. 
“Her dad, he still… around?” 
You shook your head with a light hearted laugh. 
“No,” and you could have left it with that simple answer… but that was never much your style. “I shot him in the head.”
His low whistle cut the air, and you almost felt proud. You’d killed the one thing in life that ever hurt you directly. 
“He deserved worse.” 
“Yeah, he did.”
And then it was quiet for a minute, all the words the two of you had spoken up until now were rotating over and around in your heads to make sense of them, until he spoke up again. 
“I’m sorry,” he nearly whispered. 
“S’okay. Not your fault…” you shook it off. It’s in the past, it’s done. 
“Not yours either,” he replied, raising a brow to you. “M’just, sorry you went through that.”
He was soft, he was gentle. You supposed he was like Tommy. He didn’t judge you or make you feel inferior because of your tragic mishappenings. He just listened, and felt sympathy.
“I don’t mind it so much now… I got her back.”
And both your gazes shifted to the sleeping teenager, her breaths steady with the humming of the night around you. She has no clue, and for now you’ll have to keep it that way. 
Yeah, you think… I got her back.
-
It only took two weeks. Riding, eating, sleeping, and talking, rinse and repeat. There was the odd occasion of dealing with infected, but they were never in large groups, and cleared out easily. 
You remembered exactly where to go when you entered the city limits, guiding them towards the college campus you once lived in as a firefly. It was almost ten years ago, but you remember it pretty well. It’s where you met Tommy. Not in the lab, obviously. You’d both been put on security detail one morning, having never met beforehand. He proceeded to ‘teach you’ how to shoot a rifle properly, only to find you could hit a perfect bullseye on your first shot. Probably because your dad was a man who loved his guns, and you’d been shooting one since you were a kid before the outbreak. He laughed about it, and you two were friends ever since. 
“Are you getting any of this?” Ellie asked you, pulling you from your thoughts as you rode alongside them. 
For the last hour, Joel was attempting - and failing - to explain the rules of football to the young Miss Ellie. And she didn’t understand one lick of it, not that you blame her. You’d been to actual football games in your youth, but you couldn’t get it even then. 
“Nope, I was always more of a baseball fan…” you trailed, and smiled at the thought. Baseball was fun, you remember it well. It was your biggest obsession right before ballet, and right after fingerpainting. 
“Oh really, now?” Joel cut in, his surprise evident in his raised eyebrow and tilted gaze in your direction. 
“Yep. You’re looking at the MVP of the Acorn’s jr. little league team.” 
Ellie laughed. She didn’t know a thing about baseball either. She’d seen some old collectors cards though here and there. Apparently they used to be valuable. They were only knick knacks to anyone who saw them now. 
“What position did you play?” 
“Shortstop… or second base, technically. No shortstop in jr. little league,” you admitted. Your dad always called you shortstop, so that’s what you tell people now. Anyone who asks, at least. You can count on one hand the number of people who have. 
“Seein’ you around infected… I bet you swung like hell,” he chuckled. Ellie was still confused about the rules of the last sport, much less how to play this one… but she listened intently because Joel was interested, so she was interested too.
“I always got on base, didn’t always stay there, but always got on. Plus, I was the only kid who never picked their nose at the plate, so… Obviously I earned my title.”
“That must’ve been an amazing accomplishment. How old were you?” 
From what he understood, you’d been eight on outbreak day. You couldn’t have been too much younger to have started a sport, right?
“Probably six or seven at the time. I did ballet after, had kind of a short attention span when it came to after school activities,” you explained, a smile on your cheeks when you spoke about the things you used to love doing. You probably would still like doing some of them, had they been an option in Jackson.
“I know about ballet!” Ellie jumped in, nearly scaring Joel off the horse. “That’s the dancers that used to wear those weird shoes and shit.”
“Pointe shoes?” You chuckled, more at Joel trying to compose himself than Ellie’s funny recollection of footwear. 
“Yeah, those. They looked like torture devices in some of the paintings I saw… did you ever wear any?” 
“No, I would have had to train for about five more years to have gotten to that point. That was the dream at the time, to be a pointe ballerina. Of course, the end of the world happened…”
Joel turned to you from his forwards facing stare, a sadness in his eyes before he looked back onto the road ahead of him. Was that… pity? You were slowly learning to read him, his little mannerisms and tells that made him like everyone else, yet just a tad different, in a way that only he could be. 
“Maybe after all this is over you can teach me some steps,” she suggested, but you scoffed. 
“Maybe,” you shook your head at how funny the thought sounded in your head. You’d only danced for what? Ten months at most? And as an eight year old? “I think you’ll probably be too busy with Joel’s guitar lessons.”
She laughed it off, shaking her head and leaning it back onto Joel’s shoulder in front of her. The three of you kept along until reaching the building you remembered, but instantly it was a disappointment. The fireflies weren’t here, and likely hadn’t been for over a year. 
“This isn’t right. There should be a checkpoint set up and a security blockade surrounding the place,” you mentioned, getting off your horse and running up to the door in the front. You peeked inside, and there was no sign of life anywhere. 
“You’re kidding,” Ellie grumbled. 
Joel dismounted the horse and followed after you, looking around and trying to find any signs that they might have been here at all. 
“You sure this is the right place?” 
“Positive. I remember this building, I met Tommy right over there,” you pointed down the sidewalk, where a half torn down barricade of cement was still sitting, but just barely. You walked to the corner of the crumbling stairs and grabbed a piece of old broken up brick, chucking it through the front door in order to unlock it.
Joel chuckled for a moment at your frustration, watching the scene play out. 
“Baseball… right,” he teased, leading the way inside with you and Ellie in tow. 
-
Maxine’s boys were at Fedra school. Her husband was at work in a different sector. Maxine herself was trading ration cards for supplies. It was the first time she’d left the apartment since you’d been there, and of all days, of all mornings for it to happen… your water broke.
You were alone, and scared. You weren’t allowed to leave the apartment for fear of the neighbor’s suspicion. Maxine’s family would be torn apart by Fedra if anyone found out what was going on, so no matter how terrified you were, you couldn’t risk going outside for help.
“Not now,” you cried, the tension in the pit of your stomach slowly turning to pain when your first contraction started. “Please, kid, I’m begging.”
You suck down against the wall of the living room, trying to find a sitting position that doesn't kill you from the pain. You wished more than anything you had some of those pain pills left over from the exchange, but they would probably only hurt you right now. 
“Please, don’t,” you tried to even your breathing, the tears crawling down your cheeks at a fastening rate. “I can’t do this…” 
The walls were closing in, you weren’t prepared for this. It didn’t seem to be the right time, either… but it was happening, and there was absolutely nothing you could do to stop it. The baby was coming, and if you wanted to live to see another day, you were going to have to get your head straight, and push it out of you. 
You didn’t know how long you’d have, but from the time your water broke to the last contraction, things were moving relatively quickly. You were still on the ground against the wall, biting down on the sleeve of your shirt to try and not make noise. 
You hoped and prayed that you would not deliver this baby on your own, but it looked like that was your only option right now. They had all left around an hour ago, they would be gone all day. 
“I don’t know what to do, kid… help me out here,” you cried out again, but the baby didn’t exactly listen. You felt more weight bearing down on your lower half by the minute, and all you could do was panic.
It had happened so fast, the attack. Too fast, nothing you guys could have prepared for. It was all within minutes, and the ringing in your ears following your last gunshot seemed to put everything in slow motion. The way Ellie was yelling but you couldn’t hear it, the man that was coming up from behind you, and the one that was wrestling with Joel near the edge of the rail. 
Too fast, the man on your rear grabbed at you and pulled backwards, keeping you from being able to stop Joel’s attacker… You got trapped in a headlock, a gun to your temple, and another man was about to get Ellie. Joel and his attacker broke through the railing, tumbling over the edge and falling into God knows what. You sunk deadweight in the man’s arms, letting Ellie shoot him with her raised gun before you shot the man coming for her. 
She ran to the edge first, freezing as she looked down. You followed and peered over, unsure what you would see. 
“Shit,” you lowered yourself to a sitting position before scooting off the edge and dropping down to where he was. Your voice was in a panic “Joel?” 
He was alive, but fatally injured if you didn’t get him out of here right now. 
“I’m gonna need you to pull,” he managed to get out through gritted teeth. His face was scrunched in pain, and you knew better than anyone how hard it was to stay quiet when you’re hurting that bad. 
“You could bleed out,” you shook your head, kneeling down and flinging off your backpack. Digging through, you only have the most basic of supplies… nothing substantial enough to stop mass amounts of blood, or, worst case scenario, a deadly infection. 
“Just pull, damnit,” he grunted, offering his hand. 
By now Ellie had come down, watching in fear as the only figure of importance in her life was nearly on his deathbed. It couldn’t be exaggerated because it really was that bad. He could drop down at any moment and never get back up, but he kept pushing on. 
You did as he asked, hoisting him to a stand, letting him lean on you for support. Ellie went on ahead, leading the way as she cleared the place with her own gun. You had to assist here and there, unwilling to let Ellie get shot on account of holding Joel up on his feet. 
It was practically a miracle that any of you made it outside. Your horse had already taken care of a raider, it seemed, the man lying unconscious on the ground behind him. He likely got to close, touched him, even. Ellie shot the last obstacle standing between you and an escape, and once he was cleared, you mounted your horses, helping Joel onto his, first. 
You rode in front of them, looking for a place to take shelter. Looking for an empty house, or gas station even. Anything would work, as long as it was safer than here. You rode for miles down the road, unsure if there were people in the area. You’d finally reached a neighborhood of substantial size, with no signs of life or proof of human activity. 
But before you could even find a safe shelter…
“Joel? Joel!” 
And you quickly turned around. Joel fell off the horse, out like a light.
-
Tags: @orcasoul
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honeygrahambitch · 10 hours
Text
One for sorrow, two for joy
Plot: Will and Hannibal are having a difficult but very needed conversation the day before the birth of their surrogate child.
"Hello." Will said as he sat next to Hannibal on the porch of their house. The sun was casting its final rays before completely hiding before the mountains. "Just so you know, we are not the worst parents on earth because we don't have a name for our kid. I've read many stories where parents just knew exactly when they saw their baby for the first time. And that will be our case as well."
Hannibal had been out there sitting on his own for most of the day, which was exactly why Will had decided to join him with two glasses of white wine. Hannibal accepted his in silence. He didn't say anything to Will's encouraging words.
Will looked properly at his face only when he heard a sniff followed by a deep sigh, filled with sorrow.
He freaked out for a split second, seeing the tears run down his cheeks, knowing it was a rare sight.
"Do you know when we will be the worst parents?" Will asked, guiding Hannibal's head to rest on his shoulder. "When we won't like her first boyfriend. Or her second. Or third. Fuck it, none of them will be good enough. Or when we will say "no" when she will want to go to a promiscuous party. But I promise that when we meet her tomorrow, we will just know exactly what to call her."
Hannibal let out another sniff and Will could actually feel his tears on his shirt. "I thought I knew what name would be perfect for her." He said eventually.
"And I told you I'm down with calling her Mischa if that's what you feel." He replied softly as he let his own head rest on Hannibal's.
"After doing some self-reflection, I realized I don't want that for her. She shouldn't carry my regrets." He said, his gaze following a magpie trying to build a nest in the pine tree which was shading their house. "Every time I would look at her, I would think of my sister." Hannibal said as he let out a soft sob. "I want her to be her own person, not to grow up in the shade of someone else who already carries so much weight."
"What else is on your mind?" Will asked empathetically after a few seconds.
"During the last years I knew that if we had a daughter I would definitely name her Mischa. I figured I would do that only to give myself the delusion of having her next to me again." Hannibal said. "Or maybe I need some sort of closure that I won't get. Truth is, I need to let her go. It's been too long."
"You know, you don't have to let her go. She is not here but she is still your sister. And she will always be. You don't need a physical reminder to get your closure. And we will make sure our daughter knows about her."
Hannibal let out another sob as he buried his face in Will's shoulder.
"There are days when I feel haunted by my own regrets." Hannibal whispered. Will knew. He had learnt to read his every expression and gesture in time.
"I also feel haunted oftentimes. But then you say something stupid like "Will, have you missplaced the corkskrew again?" And all my ghosts are gone."
Hannibal laughed bitterly for the first time that evening.
"I'm sorry, your own nerves must be wrecked as well because of tomorrow." Hannibal said as he lifted his head off Will's shoulder and wiped his tears.
"Pretty wrecked. But seeing my husband weeping tears on the porch is a rare sight. Poetic in fact."
"I'm envious of you." Hannibal said, finally taking a sip from his glass. "You're managing your emotions better than I do."
"Am I? I woke up at 5 and took apart the washing machine piece by piece because yesterday it made a subtle but weird sound. By noon it was in one piece again. Then I reorganized my lures. Then I reorganized all your spices."
"Pardon?" Hannibal asked as he suddenly turned his head towards Will.
"I was surprised you haven't noticed me spending an unusual amount of time in the kitchen, sitting on the counter and labeling spices. Some of them I had no idea what they were so I drew a question mark instead."
"I..." Hannibal started but didn't know what to say, amused by Will's coping methods. "You didn't touch my suits, did you?"
"No, I am not a psychopath. I did want to organize your ties based on warm and color tones. But I decided I wanted to be alive by tomorrow."
Will clinked his glass against Hannibal's and this time, he was the one to rest his head on his shoulder.
"And we are supposed to raise a child." Hannibal said as a conclusion. "Sorry I avoided you the whole day. I was completely unaware you took the whole house apart. You must have had a lot on your mind."
"It's not like you were doing better. But this" Will said gesturing to where they were sitting"-is a lot better than labeling your spices."
"I agree."
The sun was completely gone, a purple shade coloring the horizon. The lonely magpie was soon joined by a second one, who was carrying some straws as well, probably helping with the nest.
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