#also the loneliness she felt in that moment was so profound
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Why Her and Not Me?
Gojo Satoru x F!Reader x Geto Suguru (Angst) part V
Hello my lovely readers! Here is part V! I also want to let you all know that I will be making multiple endings for this story because all of you deserve to be happy, so I will do just that🫶🏽 As for this part, I hope you all enjoy it! <333
If you want the other parts, they are in my masterlist :))))
As Toru wandered aimlessly down the quiet streets, his footsteps echoed hollowly against the pavement. Each step felt heavier than the last, weighed down by the burden of his own heartache. His mind was a whirlwind of emotions, his thoughts consumed by memories of you and the pain of your absence.
With each passing moment, the weight of your absence pressed down on him like a suffocating blanket, suffusing his every breath with a sense of longing and despair. He had tried to distract himself, to bury his feelings beneath a facade of indifference, but the truth was, he couldn’t escape the emptiness that gnawed at him from within. It was as if a part of him was missing, lost in the void that had opened up between you.
Toru barely slept, barely ate, barely did anything other than wander the streets in a daze, lost in a fog of sadness and regret. He knew he should take better care of himself, that he owed it to himself to try and move on, but the thought of you lingered in his mind like a ghost, haunting him at every turn.
Every corner he turned, every street he walked, seemed to taunt him with memories of happier times, of moments shared and laughter shared. But now, those memories felt like nothing more than cruel illusions, mocking him with their fleeting sweetness.
His heart felt heavy in his chest, a leaden weight that threatened to drag him down into the depths of despair. He had never felt so lost, so adrift, as he did in that moment, with the realization of just how much he missed you crashing over him like a tidal wave.
He wanted nothing more than to see you, to hear your voice, to feel your touch, but he knew that was impossible. You were out there somewhere, living your life without him, and the thought filled him with a profound sense of loneliness and regret.
And as he trudged on through the empty streets, his aura radiated a palpable aura of sadness and longing, a silent plea for the universe to bring you back to him.
——
Toru loved you, the truth was undeniable: his heart belonged to you, and you alone. He couldn’t continue to deceive himself, couldn’t continue to pretend that everything was okay when it clearly wasn’t. And so, with a heavy heart and a sense of resignation, Toru made the final decision to end things with Osaka.
Their relationship had once been filled with laughter and joy, but now it felt like nothing more than a charade, a hollow imitation of the love and passion he felt for you. He couldn’t bear the thought of leading Osaka on any longer, couldn’t bear the guilt of knowing that he was betraying her with every passing day.
And so, one fateful afternoon, Toru found himself sitting across from Osaka, his heart heavy with sorrow as he tried to find the words to explain why he couldn’t be with her anymore. She looked at him with confusion and hurt in her eyes, her brow furrowed in disbelief as she struggled to comprehend what he was saying.
—flashback—
As Toru sat across from Osaka in the bustling cafe, his heart weighed down by the heavy burden of the truth he was about to reveal, he couldn't help but notice the sadness in her eyes. It was as if she already knew what he was going to say, as if she had seen the signs and understood the depths of his feelings long before he had even admitted them to himself.
"I'm sorry, Osaka," Toru began, his voice barely above a whisper. "I... I can't do this anymore. I can't continue to pretend that everything is okay when it clearly isn't. I... I have feelings for someone else, and I can't ignore them any longer."
Osaka's eyes widened in understanding, her lips trembling slightly as she fought to hold back her emotions. "Is it... is it because of her?" she asked softly, her voice barely audible over the din of the crowded cafe.
Toru nodded, his heart aching with regret. "Yes," he admitted, his voice barely more than a choked whisper. "I've tried to deny it, tried to push aside my feelings, but... but I can't. I love her, Osaka. I've finally come to realize that everything that made me happy…everything that made me love life…it was all because of her… and I can't keep pretending that I don’t want her."
Tears welled up in Osaka's eyes, but she managed to nod, a small, sad smile playing at the corners of her lips. "I know," she whispered. "I've seen the way you look at her, the way your eyes light up whenever she's around. And as much as it hurts, I... I understand."
Toru's heart clenched with guilt at the pain he saw in Osaka's eyes, the knowledge that he was causing her so much hurt and heartache nearly overwhelming him. But amidst the sorrow and regret, there was a sense of relief, a weight lifting from his shoulders as he finally spoke the truth he had been hiding for so long.
"I'm so sorry, Osaka," he murmured, reaching out to take her hand in his. "I never meant to hurt you, but I... I can't keep pretending that my feelings for you are enough. You deserve someone who can give you their whole heart, and I... I can't do that."
Osaka squeezed his hand gently, her gaze soft and understanding. "I know," she whispered. "And all I want is for you to be happy, Toru. Even if it's not with me."
And in that moment, Toru felt a sense of gratitude wash over him, a deep appreciation for the kindness and understanding that Osaka had shown him. He knew that he would never forget her, never forget the love and support she had given him during their time together.
As Osaka got up to leave, her shoulders hunched with grief but her head held high with dignity, Toru couldn't help but feel a sense of awe at the strength and resilience she possessed. And as he watched her walk away, he knew that he would always be grateful for her understanding and kindness, even though his heart belonged elsewhere.
—end of flashback—
That happened almost three weeks ago, and here he was, still down as ever because he still hasn’t gotten a chance to speak with you. As he rounded a corner, his gaze fell upon a familiar figure sitting alone on a bench in the park. It was you, your silhouette illuminated by the soft glow of the streetlights, and for a moment, Toru’s heart leaped in his chest.
Without a second thought, he changed direction and made his way towards you, his steps quickening with a sense of urgency. He needed to see you, to talk to you, to finally get some answers to the questions that had been plaguing him for months now.
Relief washed over him at the sight of you, but it quickly turned to dismay as he couldn’t help but notice the way your shoulders tensed, as if bracing for impact. His heart clenched at the sight, the realization that you were actively avoiding him hitting him like a ton of bricks. He had hoped that seeing you again would ease the ache in his chest, but instead, it only seemed to exacerbate it.
His footsteps faltered for a moment before he mustered back the courage to approach you. Each step felt like a heavy weight dragging him closer to the inevitable confrontation he had been dreading. He cleared his throat nervously, his heart pounding in his chest as he finally reached your side.
“Y/n,” he called out softly, his voice trembling with emotion. “It’s… it’s been so long since we’ve talked. I’ve missed you.”
You glanced up briefly, your eyes flitting over him before quickly returning to the ground. You instantly began to feel your heart race. You cursed yourself mentally, hoping that all of those feelings you had for him were gone once and for all, but to your surprise, they weren’t.
“Has it? I didn’t even notice.” You spoke plainly, going on your phone. Even you knew that was a low blow.
Your reaction was almost imperceptible, a slight shift in posture that spoke volumes. Toru’s heart sank at your words, his mind racing with a million different questions and doubts. What had he done wrong? Why were you treating him like this? Had he somehow pushed you away without realizing it?
“Y/n,” he repeated, his voice pleading, “please, I need to know what’s been going on with you. I miss you so much, and it’s killing me not knowing why you’ve been avoiding me.”
But you remained stubbornly silent, refusing to meet his gaze or acknowledge his presence. Toru’s frustration boiled beneath the surface, his patience wearing thin as he struggled to contain his emotions.
“Y/n, come on,” he begged, his voice cracking with emotion. “I can’t take this anymore. I need to know why you’ve been ignoring me. What did I do wrong? What did I do to deserve this?”
You flinched at his words, the guilt gnawing at your conscience as you struggled to find the right words. But before you could respond, Toru pressed on, his voice growing more desperate with each passing moment.
“I thought we were friends, Y/n,” he continued, his voice trembling with emotion. “I thought we meant something to each other. Maybe…even more than that… But if I was wrong, if I’ve just been fooling myself this whole time, then please, just tell me. Tell me the truth, even if it hurts. Because obviously, you’ve been ignoring me for the last several months and I’m getting tired of it!”
Tears welled up in your eyes as you met Toru’s gaze, the pain and confusion written plainly across his face. You opened your mouth to speak, to tell him everything, but the words caught in your throat, choked back by the weight of your own fears.
Toru’s eyes searched yours, pleading for some semblance of an answer, but you turned away, unable to bear the intensity of his gaze any longer. And in that moment of vulnerability, you felt a surge of anger rise up within you, a resentment born from years of unrequited love and silent suffering. After all this time, he still doesn’t know about how you felt. How much you loved him. How much he hurt you that day. And how much it continued to hurt every time you saw him with Osaka.
“I’m sorry, Toru,” you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t do this right now. I need some time alone.”
But Toru refused to let you off that easily, his frustration boiling over as he grabbed your arm, forcing you to face him. “No, Y/n,” he insisted, his voice tinged with desperation. “We need to talk about this. I can’t just let you walk away like this, not when it’s tearing me apart inside.”
You tried to pull away, to free yourself from his grasp, but Toru held on tight, his grip unyielding as he searched your eyes for some sign of understanding.
”Let me go, Satoru. Now.” You spoke to him, your voice completely monotone and full of venom.
Toru’s heart cracked at the sound of his name rolling off your tongue with such detachment. It was as if you were a stranger, a cold wind blowing through the warm familiarity you two once shared.
“Y/n, please,” Toru pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper. “Don’t shut me out like this. I can’t bear it.”
But you remained resolute, your gaze fixed on the ground as if the earth held the answers to all your troubles. Toru’s heart ached at the sight, the pain of your rejection like a physical blow to his chest.
“Please, just talk to me,” Toru implored, his voice trembling with emotion. “Tell me what I did wrong. Tell me why you’ve been avoiding me.”
Your silence was deafening, a wall of ice erected between you and Toru that seemed impossible to breach. But before he could do anything further, you spoke again, your voice cutting through the silence like a knife. “Let me go, or else.”
Toru recoiled as if struck, the pain in your words lancing through him like a blade. He had never heard you address him so formally, so coldly, and it sent a shiver down his spine. He let go of your hand, seeing you begin to walk away. That is when he snapped.
“I…I don’t understand,” Toru stammered, his voice rising as his frustration began to take hold of his emotions. “What did I do to deserve this? What did I do to make you hate me so much?” He yelled, tears beginning to fall down his face.
Suddenly, you stopped in your tracks, your heart beginning to break as well. The tears welled up in your eyes as you met Toru’s gaze, the pain and anguish written plainly across your face.
Toru’s heart clenched at the sight of your tears, each drop a dagger in his already wounded heart. He watched helplessly as you approached him, your finger trembling as you pointed it accusingly at him.
“Y-you wanna know why I’ve been acting this way? Why I’ve been ignoring you this whole fucking time?!” you yelled, your voice raw with emotion.
Toru’s breath caught in his throat as he waited for your answer, his heart pounding with anticipation and dread.
You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as the weight of your words hung heavy in the air between you. “It’s because of you, Toru and well…me and my stupid feelings,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “Because of what you said to me that day…about loving Osaka.”
Toru’s eyes widened in surprise, a flicker of understanding dawning in their depths. He opened his mouth to speak, but you held up a trembling hand, silencing him before he could interrupt.
“I know you probably didn’t mean to hurt me when you told me you loved Osaka,” you continued, your words tumbling out in a rush. “But it… it broke my heart, Toru. It shattered me into a million pieces, and I didn’t know how to put myself back together again.”
Toru listened in stunned silence as you poured out your heart, each word a dagger to his own soul. He had never realized the depth of your feelings for him, the pain you had been silently carrying all this time.
You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat threatening to choke off your words. How could you possibly explain the depth of your feelings for Toru, the longing and heartache that had consumed you for so long? How could you make him understand the pain of watching him love someone else, knowing that he would never return your affections?
“But It’s about more than just what happened with Osaka,” you finally admitted, your voice trembling with emotion. “It’s about how much I loved you, Toru. For so long, I’ve loved you with every fiber of my being. There wasn’t a day that went by where I didn’t think of you, where I didn’t want to be with you.”
You continued.
“That’s why I would always make you your favorite desserts. I knew you loved them and so I made them to make you feel loved…to make you feel happy…to hopefully help you understand just how much I cared for and loved you…but you never got the idea.” Your heart was breaking more and more with each word you spoke. “You never once sat back and wondered why I did all of that for you. Of course I did it because I enjoy it…but it made it even more enjoyable knowing that it was all for you. You were the reason I looked forward to each new day. The reason as to what made everything better. And it… it hurts so much to know that you don’t feel the same way about me. And what’s worse is that…I still love you…even though I’ve tried to force those feelings away…after months of telling myself I don’t love you anymore, convincing myself of those words…I knew it was nothing but a lie.” You finished, still looking at him, seeing his widened eyes.
Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked up at him, the floodgates of your emotions bursting open with a force you couldn’t contain. You felt exposed and vulnerable, laid bare before Toru.
”Y/n…I-“
Gently, he squeezed your hand, silently conveying his remorse and his determination to make things right. He knew he had a long road ahead of him, but he was willing to do whatever it took to earn back your trust and your love.
“I-I never knew,” Toru choked out, his voice thick with emotion. “I never realized…” he stammered, his voice choking with emotion. “I never meant to hurt you, I swear. I never wanted to cause you pain.”
You shook your head, tears streaming down your cheeks unchecked. “I know, Toru. I know you didn’t mean to,” you said softly. “But the truth is, you did. And I’ve spent so long trying to come to terms with that, trying to move on and forget about you, but I just… I can’t.”
But you shook your head, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. “But It doesn’t matter now, Toru,” you said, your voice tinged with sadness and resignation. “What’s done is done. You are with Osaka…and there is nothing I can do about it.”
“I-I broke up with Osaka,” Toru interrupted, his voice loud and clear.
You felt your heart skip a beat as Toru’s words hung in the air, the weight of his confession hitting you on the head. You blinked, trying to process the sudden shift in the conversation, the unexpected turn of events leaving you feeling disoriented and confused.
“What do you mean?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, your heart racing in your chest. “Why would you break up with Osaka?”
As Toru’s voice wavered with emotion, you could sense the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air, each syllable laden with meaning and significance. He took a deep breath, steeling himself to articulate the whirlwind of thoughts and feelings that had consumed him in recent months.
“It was after you stopped talking to me,” Toru confessed, his voice barely above a whisper, his eyes searching yours for understanding. “I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, I couldn’t do anything…I was a mess, Y/n. And I couldn’t figure out why until I realized…it was because of you. I realized that I needed you.”
You felt a pang of guilt twist in your chest at his words, the realization that your actions had caused him so much pain weighing heavily on your conscience. But even as you grappled with your own emotions, you couldn’t help but hang on to his every word, desperate to understand the depth of his feelings.
“I kept replaying everything in my mind, every moment we’ve shared together,” Toru continued, his voice growing stronger with each passing word. “And it hit me like a bus. I’m in love with you, Y/n. I’m so in love with you that it hurts. Everywhere I turn, it always brings up a memory of us together.”
The raw honesty in Toru’s confession washed over you, leaving you reeling in its wake. You had never imagined that he could feel that way about you, never dared to entertain the possibility that your feelings for him might be reciprocated.
“I tried to hide my feelings for you while I was with Osaka…to pretend that everything was fine….but I can’t keep pretending anymore, Y/n. I can’t keep hiding how I feel.”
As Toru poured his heart out to you, baring his soul in a way you had never seen before, you felt a surge of conflicting emotions wash over you. Part of you wanted to throw yourself into his arms, to finally acknowledge the love that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long. But another part of you hesitated, still grappling with the scars of past heartbreaks, unsure if you were ready to take that leap of faith again.
You felt a lump form in your throat as Toru’s words washed over you, the enormity of what he was saying sinking in.
“I love you so much,Y/n… and I am so sorry that it took me this long to figure it out” He started, his hands becoming clammy.
Toru reached out tentatively, his hand hovering in the air between you as if unsure whether to touch you or not. “Please, Y/n,” he pleaded, his voice breaking with emotion. “Give me a chance to make things right. I’ll do anything, I swear.”
You looked up at him, your eyes filled with a mixture of pain and longing. “I don’t know if I can, Toru. You really hurt me, even if you didn’t mean to.” you admitted, your voice barely audible above the soft hum of the evening breeze.
“Plus…Suguru and I have been getting close…and I…I think I’m falling for him as well. I can’t explain it, but there’s something about him that draws me to him, something I can’t ignore. So not only do I still have feelings for you…but I also have feelings for him…and I’m just so lost and confused. I don’t know what to do anymore.”
The weight of your confession hung heavy in the air, the silence stretching between you like a chasm.
When you finally mentioned Suguru, Toru’s heart clenched with a mixture of jealousy and resignation. He had suspected as much, had seen the way you looked at Suguru when you thought no one was watching, the subtle shifts in your demeanor whenever he was around. But hearing you say the words out loud, admitting to falling for another, felt like a blow to his chest.
But he pushed back those feelings as he heard and saw your current state. He felt a surge of guilt wash over him as he saw you. This wasn’t about him right now; it was about you and the pain he had caused you. He couldn’t bear the thought of being the source of your hurt, and the realization weighed heavily on his heart.
He refused to give up hope. He knew that he had to earn your forgiveness, that it wouldn’t come easily or quickly. But he was willing to do whatever it took to make things right between you, to prove to you that he was worthy of your love.
“However,” you started, still looking into his eyes.
“I know that I can’t keep ignoring you like this. And…I have been missing you for some time as well. So…how about we just start back at square one and see where that takes us?”
Toru listened intently, his heart pounding with anticipation as you spoke. He understood the gravity of your words, the weight of the pain he had caused you. But as you suggested starting anew, a spark of hope ignited within him, lighting up the darkness that had clouded his heart.
He nodded, a sense of determination coursing through him. "I would like that…a lot actually," he replied, his voice soft yet resolute. "Let's start fresh, take it one step at a time."
As the words left his lips, a sense of relief washed over you. Despite the hurt and the uncertainty, you couldn't ignore the flicker of hope that blossomed within you. Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for the two of you to find your way back to each other. To love and cherish one another and be one.
With a tentative smile, you reached out and squeezed Toru's hand, feeling the warmth and strength it offered, missing how good it felt. As you two walked side by side, the weight of the past lifting from your shoulders, you felt a renewed sense of optimism fill your heart. Maybe this wasn't the end of your story with Toru, but rather the beginning of a new chapter, one filled with hope, forgiveness, and the promise of a brighter and happier future.
_____________
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B-but...shhhh
Pairing: Cassian x reader
Warning: Contains explicit scenes of intimacy and strong language.
Summary: In the passionate aftermath of Solstice celebrations, Cassian and Y/N's intimate connection deepens as they embrace the prospect of parenthood together but not everything happens so quick.
As Y/N rose from the bed, a sense of unease settled in the pit of her stomach. It had been a few months since she and Cassian had made the decision to try for a baby, but so far, there had been no sign of success. Despite their best efforts and unwavering determination, the longing for a child remained unfulfilled, casting a shadow over their once-hopeful hearts.
As she moved through the empty chambers, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling of loneliness that engulfed her. Their schedules had become increasingly demanding in recent months, leaving little time for the intimate moments and shared connections that had once been the foundation of their relationship.
With a heavy sigh, Y/N made her way through the halls of the bustling castle, her thoughts consumed by worries and doubts. Had they been too hasty in their decision? Was it possible that they were simply not meant to have a child together?
But even as the doubts gnawed at her, Y/N couldn't suppress the flicker of hope that remained in her heart. She knew that she and Cassian were meant to be parents, that their love was strong enough to weather any storm. And no matter how difficult the journey might be, she refused to give up on their dream of starting a family together.
As Y/N made her way down the hall, lost in her thoughts and worries, she didn't notice the figure approaching until it was too late. With a sudden jolt, she collided with Rhysand, nearly stumbling backward from the impact.
"Y/N, are you alright?" Rhysand asked, his concern evident in his voice as he reached out to steady her.
But Y/N couldn't find the words to respond. The weight of her worries felt like a heavy burden pressing down on her chest, leaving her speechless and unable to articulate the turmoil that churned within her.
For a moment, she simply stood there, her gaze fixed on the floor as she struggled to compose herself. The silence stretched between them, filled with unspoken questions and unanswered fears.
But then, without a word, Y/N straightened her shoulders and took a step back, her eyes meeting Rhysand's with a steely determination. With a silent nod of gratitude, she continued on her way, her footsteps echoing down the hall as she disappeared around the corner.
Rhysand watched her go, his heart heavy with concern for his friend. He knew that something was troubling her, something deep and profound that she was not yet ready to share. But he also knew that she was strong, stronger than she gave herself credit for, and that whatever challenges lay ahead, she would face them with the same courage and resilience that had always defined her.
With a silent vow to be there for her whenever she needed him, Rhysand turned and continued on his own way, his thoughts consumed by the worries of those he held most dear. And as he disappeared around the corner, the halls of the castle fell into a heavy silence, the weight of unanswered questions hanging in the air like a shroud.
---
As Cassian stepped into the training ring, his muscles tense and his mind heavy with the weight of expectations, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at his core. Recent days had been filled with an unrelenting pressure, a burden that seemed to grow heavier with each passing moment.
Azriel, his sparring partner and brother-in-arms, watched him with a keen gaze, his expression unreadable as they circled each other in the center of the ring. There was a tension in the air, a silent acknowledgment of the stakes that hung between them.
With a silent nod, they lunged forward, their swords clashing with a resounding clang as they engaged in a fierce battle of skill and strength. But despite Cassian's best efforts, he found himself struggling to keep up, his movements sluggish and his strikes faltering under the weight of his doubts.
With each spar, he felt the pressure mounting, the weight of expectation crushing him beneath its relentless weight. It seemed that no matter how hard he tried, he could not shake the feeling of inadequacy that plagued him, the fear that he was failing those who relied on him most.
And as the final blow landed, sending Cassian crashing to the ground in defeat, he couldn't help but feel the sting of failure burning hot in his chest. Azriel offered him a hand up, his gaze filled with understanding and compassion, but even the comfort of his brother's presence could not dispel the shadows of doubt that lingered in Cassian's mind.
As he left the training ring, the weight of his failures heavy upon his shoulders, Cassian knew that he had to find a way to overcome the doubts that threatened to consume him. He had to find a way to rise above the pressure, to reclaim the strength and courage that had always been his greatest assets.
For he knew that the battles they faced were far from over, and that only by facing his fears head-on could he hope to emerge victorious. And with that thought in mind, he squared his shoulders and set out to conquer the demons that lurked within, determined to prove to himself and to those he loved that he was worthy of their faith and trust.
As Cassian lingered in the aftermath of his defeat, lost in the whirlwind of his thoughts and emotions, he sensed Azriel's approach before he even saw him. The Shadowsinger's presence was as silent as the night itself, his footsteps a mere whisper against the stone floor of the training grounds.
With a heavy sigh, Cassian turned to face his friend, the weight of his failures evident in the slump of his shoulders and the weariness in his eyes. Azriel regarded him with a silent understanding, his expression a mirror of the concern that gnawed at Cassian's heart.
"What's eating you, brother?" Azriel asked quietly, his voice a gentle murmur in the stillness of the training grounds.
Cassian hesitated for a moment, the words catching in his throat as he struggled to articulate the turmoil that churned within him. But then, with a resigned sigh, he shook his head, the weight of his burdens too heavy to bear alone.
"It's… it's everything, Az," he admitted, his voice tinged with frustration and self-doubt. "The pressure, the expectations… I feel like I'm drowning in it all."
Azriel's gaze softened with sympathy, his hand reaching out to clasp Cassian's shoulder in a gesture of solidarity. "You're not alone in this, Cass," he reassured him, his voice filled with unwavering support. "We're all feeling the weight of it, but you don't have to carry it alone."
Cassian nodded, a flicker of gratitude warming his heart at the reminder of the bonds that bound them together. "I know," he replied, his voice steadier now, fortified by the strength of his friend's presence. "It's just… hard, you know?"
Azriel nodded in understanding, his gaze unwavering as he met Cassian's eyes with a look of quiet determination. "We'll get through this together," he promised, his words a beacon of hope in the darkness that threatened to consume them. "No matter what challenges lie ahead, we'll face them as brothers, side by side."
Cassian's admission hung heavy in the air, his vulnerabilities laid bare before his friend. Azriel's concern deepened at the mention of Y/N, realizing the full extent of Cassian's inner turmoil. He reached out, resting a hand on Cassian's arm, his expression softening with empathy.
"It's about Y/N too, isn't it?" Azriel's voice was gentle, a soothing balm to Cassian's troubled mind.
Cassian nodded, his gaze dropping to the ground as he wrestled with the weight of his emotions. "Yes," he admitted, the word heavy on his tongue. "I want nothing more than to give her the family we've always dreamed of, but…" His voice trailed off, the unspoken fears lingering between them like shadows in the night.
Azriel squeezed his arm in silent understanding, offering a wordless gesture of solidarity. "You love her, Cass," he said softly, his voice filled with unwavering conviction. "And she loves you. Whatever challenges you face, whatever obstacles stand in your way, you'll overcome them together."
Cassian met Azriel's gaze, gratitude shining in his eyes for the unwavering support of his friend. "Thank you, Az," he said sincerely, the weight of his burdens feeling a little lighter with each word. "I don't know what I'd do without you."
Azriel offered him a small, reassuring smile. "You'll never have to find out," he replied, his voice filled with quiet determination. "We're in this together, Cass. Always."
And as they stood together in the fading light of the training grounds, the bonds of friendship that bound them grew stronger, fortified by the shared trials and tribulations they faced as warriors and brothers. For in the depths of their connection, they found solace, strength, and the unwavering support of those who would stand by their side through even the darkest of nights.
As Rhysand materialized before them, his sudden appearance causing a ripple of surprise in the quiet of the training grounds, Cassian's confusion deepened at his friend's question. He exchanged a puzzled glance with Azriel before turning his attention back to Rhysand, his brow furrowed with concern.
"Y/N? Why wouldn't she be okay?" Cassian's voice held a note of uncertainty, his mind racing with a thousand questions and fears.
Rhysand's expression was grave, a shadow passing over his features as he regarded Cassian with a solemn intensity. "I sensed something… off," he explained, his voice tinged with worry. "I wanted to make sure she's alright."
Cassian's heart clenched at the implication of Rhysand's words, a wave of apprehension washing over him as he considered the possibility of Y/N being in danger. "We haven't spoken much today," he admitted, his voice tight with concern. "But she seemed fine when I last saw her."
Azriel's gaze flickered between them, his own worry evident in the furrow of his brow. "Do you want us to check on her?" he offered, his voice steady despite the undercurrent of tension that lingered in the air.
Rhysand nodded, his expression grave. "Yes, please," he replied, his tone serious. "We can't afford to take any chances."
---
With a sense of urgency propelling him forward, Cassian wasted no time. He spread his wings wide and leaped into the air, the powerful muscles in his back propelling him upwards with effortless grace. As he soared through the sky, the wind whipping past him, his thoughts raced ahead to Y/N, his heart heavy with worry.
It didn't take long for him to reach her workspace, his keen eyes scanning the area below for any sign of trouble. With a swift descent, he landed gracefully in the courtyard, his wings folding neatly against his back as he surveyed his surroundings.
There, amidst the bustling activity of the workshop, he spotted Y/N, her figure bent over a workbench as she tinkered with a delicate piece of machinery. Relief flooded through him at the sight of her, his heart swelling with love for the woman who held his heart in her hands.
"Y/N!" he called out, his voice cutting through the din of the workshop as he made his way towards her. "Are you alright?"
Y/N looked up, surprise flickering across her features at the sight of him. "Cassian?" she exclaimed, her voice tinged with confusion. "What are you doing here?"
Cassian reached her side in a few quick strides, his eyes searching hers for any sign of distress. "Rhys sensed something… off," he explained, his voice tight with concern. "We wanted to make sure you're okay."
Y/N's confusion melted away at the concern in his eyes, replaced by a warmth that spread through her chest like wildfire. "I'm fine, Cassian," she reassured him, her voice soft. "Just caught up in my work, that's all."
Despite Y/N's reassurances, Cassian couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at his gut. He had learned to trust his instincts over the years, honed by countless battles and harrowing experiences. And right now, his instincts were screaming at him that something wasn't right.
"C'mon, Y/N," Cassian said, his voice gentle but firm as he held her gaze with an unwavering intensity. "I know you well enough to know when something's bothering you. Please, don't try to brush this off."
Y/N's expression faltered at the resolve in his eyes, her facade crumbling under the weight of his scrutiny. She let out a weary sigh, her shoulders slumping as she finally relented.
"I… I've just been feeling overwhelmed lately," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "With work, with… everything."
Cassian's heart clenched at the vulnerability in her voice, his arms tightening around her in a protective embrace. "You don't have to carry that weight alone, Y/N," he murmured, his voice soft but determined. "We're in this together, remember?"
Y/N nodded, tears shimmering in her eyes as she leaned into his embrace. "I know," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. "I just… I'm scared, Cassian. Scared that I'm not strong enough, not good enough."
Cassian brushed away her tears with a gentle touch, his heart aching at the sight of her pain. "You are more than enough, Y/N," he whispered fiercely, his voice filled with conviction. "You're the strongest person I know, and I believe in you with all my heart."
Cassian's heart clenched at Y/N's words, her admission cutting him to the core. He pulled back slightly, his hands framing her face as he searched her eyes with a mixture of sadness and determination.
"Y/N, listen to me," he said, his voice steady despite the turmoil in his heart. "You are more than enough for me, in every possible way. You don't have to doubt yourself, not for a second."
Y/N shook her head, tears welling in her eyes as she struggled to meet his gaze. "But what if… what if I can't give you what you want?" she whispered, her voice trembling with uncertainty.
Cassian's expression softened with understanding, his thumb brushing away her tears with a gentle touch. "Y/N, look at me," he urged, his voice tender but firm. "What I want more than anything in this world is you. Just you. The rest… it's just details."
Y/N's breath caught in her throat at his words, the weight of his love washing over her like a tidal wave. She reached out, clutching his hand in hers as if holding onto him for dear life.
"I love you, Cassian," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "More than anything."
Cassian pulled her into his arms, holding her close as if trying to shield her from the pain that threatened to engulf them both. "And I love you, Y/N," he murmured against her hair, his voice thick with emotion. "More than you'll ever know."
And as they stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, they knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, as long as they faced them together, they could overcome anything. For in the strength of their love and the unwavering support of their bond, they found solace, courage, and the resilience to weather even the fiercest storms.
Tagging some:
@callsign-magnolia
@kmc1989
@hardballoonlove
@senawashere
@hookslove1592
@marvel-molly
@lucky7rosie
#a court of thorns and roses#acotar x reader#acotar x you#acotar#cassian#cassian acosf#cassian x you#cassian angst#cassian x reader#cassian acotar#acotar fanfiction#cassian fanfic#general of the night court
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Have something slice of lifey! Take a break from the angst!
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The sound of the tide rolling in and out helped to qualm the tides in Shego's mind, however not by much. Her gaze was fixated upon the horizon, the moon shining brightly in the sky. The reflection was certainly beautiful.
Yet Shego couldn't help but feel… oddly lonely. She wasn't quite sure what was causing this sudden wave of profound loneliness, but it wasn't pleasant. Not even Drakken's ramblings seemed to aid in her distress. Normally it was a strangely welcome distraction to anything that plagued her thoughts.
She let out a soft exhale and let one leg straight in front of her as she leaned her arm against the other, her other arm fell behind her slightly and her fingers hit the sand.
She was tired and unable to sleep as of late and when she did, she always woke up gripping tightly to an old plushie she'd recently dug out of the closet on one of her nostalgia trips.
Shego's dreams were vague but often involved Drakken, though that was as far as she could remember when she woke up.
Why was she feeling like this? Why now? It'd been like this for the past two weeks and was only, seemingly, getting worse. She'd even considered going out with Junior to get some drinks and find some faceless bodies to dance with but not even that appealed to her lately.
She found herself more cooped up and hanging around Drakken more than she'd like to admit.
What is wrong with me?
Shego hadn't even realized that tears had welled within her eyes. She only noticed when the sound of footsteps broke her from her thoughts. She quickly wiped them away and pulled her gaze from the horizon to the sand below.
"Ah Shego, there you are! Evil Eye for the Bad Guy is on, you won't believe the guest." The familiar voice of Drakken then sounded and she pulled her gaze towards where he stood a few feet behind her.
"Let me guess, you?" She forced the quick response and a smirk.
Drakken grumbled something, rolled his eyes and moved towards her only to sit beside her. The briefly annoyed look was replaced by a smirk. "Oh I wish, I'd kill to get on Evil Eye for the Bad Guy!" He let out a bit of a chuckle as he got comfortable. "No, they got Kim Possible's baffoony sidekick.. uh.. I wanna say Ryan Strangle? I dunno, the name escapes me." He shrugged.
Shego let out a forced snicker and rolled her eyes. "You haven't seen that one? It was when the doofus started outshining you in evil. You know you really gotta get out of the lab more often." She teased with the raise of a brow.
There was a beat of silence before a smirk appeared on Drakken's face. "Oh really? Don't think I haven't noticed you hanging around in there more than usual lately." There was a teasing tone to his voice. "You've even woken me up a good few times just this past week to, and I quote, 'Get up and eat so we can get an early start on evil today.'"
Shego felt her heart against her chest and her face flush in embarrassment. The smirk she held had faltered into a look of surprise. Her brows then furrowed and she looked away. "Yeah well, I haven't been sleeping well and I was bored." She responded with more aggressiveness then she had intended.
Her hands now nervously stroked her long black hair as she struggled to get her thoughts in order. She could hear Drakken shift slightly and she couldn't help but glance over, the nervous petting of her own hair slowed.
He looked as if he was trying to figure out a response, his gaze fixated on the horizon and his brow was furrowed. She could practically see the gears spinning for something to say.
She clenched her teeth and also looked towards the horizon. There was another long moment of silence before she exhaled and furrowed her own brows, her gaze falling towards her knees as she brought them close to her chest.
"Dr. D? Do you ever get.. lonely?" She internally cringed as the words left her mouth, almost immediately regretting asking.
Whatever it was Drakken had been thinking about prior seemed to halt as she asked this. There was a pause before he spoke. "Well… Sometimes. Why? Are you..?"
Shego exhaled and let her knees fall again. "Uh.. No reason. Just curious." She quickly decided to end this before it became far too uncomfortable. At least the company of Drakken was beginning to distract her thoughts from the dampened state they were in prior to his arrival. "You said Evil Eye for the Bad Guy was on? I think they air new episodes after a re-run."
She stood herself, brushing the sand off her pants and hands. She turned to face Drakken, thankful now that his company was aiding in getting a hold on her thoughts.
Drakken looked to her quizzically. A brow raised in confusion, most likely at the sudden shift in energy. However he seemed to either accept it and the confused look was replaced by a grin. "And I still have yet to see the one that's on."
It was Drakken's turn to stand and the two began to head towards the lair. "Oh you'll like this one. He totally loses it!" Shego laughed.
There was a moment of silence as the two headed back in, she heard footsteps slow to a stop and she looked behind her to see Drakken had halted. His brow was furrowed with a look of mild concern. Shego raised her own brow in confusion.
"Shego… You're okay, right? Like… mnnh.. You know I do worry sometimes." He seemed unsure of himself and was unable to make any form of eye contact.
The sudden questioning caught Shego off guard and she could feel her heart skip a beat. He was worried? She wasn't sure whether to be angry or comforted by the idea. It wasn't like she was some damsel in distress needing to be saved from her own thoughts. She settled on snarky.
"Yes, Dr. Dorky. I'm fine. Come on. I'll get the popcorn, you get the blankets. I'm feelin' a movie after Evil Eye." She rolled her eyes and headed inside. She didn't even wait for his response, she'd walked off before he could question it any further.
Besides, she was feeling better now. Drakken's company helped ease the dreaded loneliness she'd been feeling the past couple of weeks. And this was the first time in a long while that he seemed interested in relaxing.
Hm.. I guess it was kind of sweet that he was worried about me. I mean, he knows I can handle myself..
But that did beg the question; what else did he notice that she was unaware of? The thought made her stomach twist as she mindlessly grabbed popcorn out of the cupboard.
He is right though… I have been hanging around the lair a lot lately.. Christ, what's gotten into me?
As the popcorn now sat in the microwave whilst it heated up, she let her mind wander as to what was getting into her as of late. She was always around Drakken, hovering more than usual and was unusually lonely while Drakken was busy tinkering away at the latest doomsday device he'd been so eagerly focused on these past two weeks.
And she was noticing more and more that his ramblings and ideas were less annoying than they had been before. The more she thought about it, the more she was beginning to realize just how tolerant she'd become to… a lot of his quirks. Quirks that used to bug the crap out of her.
Then it clicked right as the microwave beeped.
Oh no. No there is no way I'm falling for that big blue idiot.
And yet…
"Shego? I can't find the lounge blankets. Where'd you put them?" The sudden sound of Drakken's voice caused Shego to jump slightly. She spun around to face him.
"Jesus, a little warning on your arrival would be nice." She tried to sound more annoyed, but her tone came across as more amused than anything. "They're in the wash, just grab one from my room."
She turned back to the popcorn and poured the bag into a bowl as she heard Drakken's steps receding from the kitchen. She hadn't even noticed she'd said her room instead of his until…
"You said… your room, right?"
She turned to face where Drakken peaked out from behind the doorway, a quizzical look on his face. Her face felt hot, realizing her mistake. Of course she'd never admit to her slip in wording. "Yea, or yours, doesn't really matter to me. It's not like you've never been in there before." She turned with a shrug.
The footsteps receded once more and she let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. She grabbed the bowl of popcorn and headed towards the living room. She plopped down and threw her feet on the coffee table.
It was only a moment until Drakken returned with the blanket in hand. Her gaze fell onto the blanket. It was hers. The fact he'd chosen to grab hers rather than his own made her heart skip a few beats.
So he chose mine… wait. He only grabbed one.
The revelation made her mind swim. Why was she suddenly over analyzing every action like a love-struck teenager?
Well you certainly feel like one…
Shego internally facepalmed at her own thoughts.
Maybe his is dirty. Maybe yours is all there is for blankets right now.
She rationalized her own thoughts and gave a slight nod of approval to herself as Drakken sat himself down and flicked the blanket up and over them. It was like he was completely oblivious to the implications of this. He did this so casually. He got himself cozy and grabbed the remote, flipping the channel to Evil Eye before tossing it onto the coffee table and reaching over to grab a handful of popcorn. Popcorn Shego hadn't realized she was basically holding the bowl hostage.
Upon this realization she put the bowl between them. She then began to wonder when this shift had occurred. When had she began to hover? Take interest? Find him overall less annoying?
Nothing about it made any sense and yet, it made perfect sense. Drakken, even in the beginning, had never really been afraid of Shego. He only ever seemed scared when she got all blasty or when she had been under the influence of the Moodulator. He may be forgetful at times but when boundaries were clearly spoken, they were listened to without further question.
He seemed to genuinely value her opinion on certain things and since day one had never made her feel unwelcome in the lair. Even going so far as to give her, her own room, her own space. No one she'd ever worked with before Drakken had been so considerate. Not to mention it saved money on motels.
Shego's thoughts were interrupted however. "Shego? Is there something on my face? You've been staring quite intently for a few minutes now." He noted, matter of factly.
She'd been staring. This caused her to look away with haste towards the TV. "Nothing, it's nothing." She stated quickly, cursing herself internally for being so careless.
There was a sigh followed by the TV volume lowering. "Okay, you've been especially weird tonight." He suddenly grimaced. "You're not under the influence of that Moodulator again, are you?" He gulped.
"What? No! Drakken. No." Though I wish that was the case right now…
At least then she could chalk up the weirdness around Drakken to that.
"Then what's going on with you? You're never like this and it's… kind of freaking me out. Did I do something to upset you?" His face held worry. "Cause if I did I-"
Before either of them could truly realize what was happening, Shego's lips met his. Her hand gripped his t-shirt while the other gripped the arm of the couch. And before Drakken could even have a chance to return the kiss, Shego had already pulled herself away, only to pause and hover above him, her emerald eyes staring right into Drakken's.
His eyes held shock, confusion and something else she couldn't read. His face was as red as a cherry. Even Shego herself held a similar expression. "I… " She then shut her eyes, furrowed her brows and pulled herself off of Drakken before clearing her throat. "You didn't do anything. Okay? Just.. let's just watch a movie."
Though as Shego went to stand, she'd noticed Drakken had grabbed her hand and was staring right at her, trying to analyze her no doubt. However the same unreadable expression was still within his eyes.
Her mind was completely void of thought as the only thing that held her focus was Drakken's unreadable face. But when he cleared his throat and removed his hand, all thoughts came rushing back to her. "So.. we're not going to talk about how you just kissed me?" It was Drakken's turn to avoid her gaze.
Shego's brows furrowed and she looked away for a moment before she flopped back in the couch, gripped her head and let out an annoyed yell. "I don't know, alright! I don't know what's wrong with me! You didn't do anything. Yenno it's not always about you! It's not always something 'you did'!"
She shot her gaze towards Drakken, who tensed at the sudden glare. Though her anger wasn't directed towards him. It was more towards herself. "I'm so.. confused and angry at myself." She was heaving and hunched slightly now. "Uhg!" She grabbed the nearest thing, which happened to be a pillow, and hurled it across the room before exhaling and letting her head fall into her hands.
There was a good moment of silence before she felt his arm wrap around her waist and pull her slightly. She tensed and was about to slap him away but instead she felt herself collapse into his chest and his other arm wrap gently around her.
Her hands fell from her head and she shifted to grip Drakken's shirt instead. Her face buried as she began to sob, unable to control the sudden wave of emotions that seemed to hit her all at once at the sudden and oddly brave gesture from Drakken.
This only caused his grip to tighten some and pull her closer. She couldn't even fully understand why she was suddenly overwhelmed with such strong feelings. It was a mix of so many things that just seemed to hit her all at once. It caused her to break.
It was like everything she'd held in over the years had finally caught up and Drakken had just been caught in the middle of it. She let herself cry for a while in the comfort of his arms. The rhythmic rising and falling of his chest as he breathed helped calm her.
After a few more moments, she pulled her face from his chest and sniffled, wiping her eyes with a hand. "Better..?"
"Yeah… thanks." She exhaled before offering a small hint of a smile towards Drakken who then smirked playfully.
"You sure there's no Moodulator hidden somewhere?" He lightly teased, an attempt to lighten the mood. If this had been a couple years ago, she would've decked him with a plasma blast, but instead she just rolled her eyes and turned over and rested her head against his chest, rather than getting up, she found herself getting comfortable in his embrace.
The look Drakken gave her was now of confusion, though he didn't make any attempts to move Shego. She smirked now slightly. "I threw my pillow across the room. I needed a replacement." She mused, letting the mood settle finally. He opened his mouth to retort something but she turned quickly and placed a finger against his lips. "Pillows don't talk." Her eyes held amusement in them.
Once Shego got comfortable again, Drakken let off a bit of a chuckle and reached to grab the remote, thankfully it was within his arms reach. He flipped the TV to a movie they would most likely fall asleep to. Shego reached to grab the popcorn and placed the bowl on her lap, within both of their reach.
A few minutes into the movie, Shego spoke. "We never speak of this again."
"I won't if you don't." Was Drakken's only response.
It didn't take them long to fall asleep in each others comfort.
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WHOOF okay I wasn't expecting to make this so long lmfao. I kept trying to find a way to end it earlier but any idea I had just didn't work. Anywhoo, have a really long fluff one shot :) Kinda flows with some of my other artworks. Namely the nostalgia comic and follows the same world that my angst one is in.
This takes place just before graduation and my angst fics of which i need to make part 3 for.
ANYHOO ENJOY!
#art#my art#kim possible#dr drakken#fanart#shego#drakgo#drakken x shego#drakken#shegoxdrakken#shego kim possible#fanfic#story#one shot#fluff#angst with a happy ending
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But bad things happen when they go about them alone, and my heart ached for Spoon when he got carted away. It was also frustrating that the girls mostly took for granted that he'd find his way out of a mess that they knew led to Mickey facedown in the sand by the water and in a hospital bed.
Not that Candy wasn't a great assist, but they also knew there wasn't much the poor girl could do. Otherwise, she would've freed herself or saved Ashely a long time ago on her own.
Interestingly enough, it was chilling when Agent spoke to Spoon about his tattoo and loss during Harlan Coben's Shelter Season 1 Episode 5.
Not only did Agent imply that Spoon is no stranger to loss, that it's a familiar bedfellow for him, and that there is some profound sadness behind Spoon's smile and deflection via humor, but Agent suggested that Spoon would experience great loss again.
They also offered to have a special someone placed in the tattoo whenever Spoon was ready. And up until this point, it's felt like Mickey is Spoon's entire world and that somehow, in some way, that person would be Mickey.
But then we had Spoon's connection with Candy, and it was pure devastation as things went from bad to worse for them.
Spoon recalled a time he spent with his grandparents, and seeing Candy in her former life, when she was a young, happy kid with her mother before life dealt her shitty hands, her mother died, and she got human trafficked.
And it just hit you in the gut that Spoon Spindell, as pure of heart as he is, could represent a time that Candy loved most in her life, of innocence, happiness, and hope.
Spoon got to represent all of those things to Candy in her final moments, and he gave her that gift; he was that gift.
But in turn, like a sin-eater, it came at a significant cost to him, as he had to watch her die in front of his eyes, and with her went a bit of his innocence and purity.
The light left his eyes every bit as much as the life left hers.
She got shot trying to save him, and you know he will internalize that a bit. He looked so shaken and thoroughly traumatized from that point forward, even though he must've had the ability to communicate with Mickey so they could rescue the girls in time.
For as long as Spoon has that temporary tattoo, Candy's name will slot into that spot. And this work will keep taking all these bits and pieces from Spoon in a way that makes you sad.
It also makes you reflect on things like Bat Lady's tombstone as an ode to the loss of her childhood because of the Holocaust.
While what she has these teens doing is far from comparable, it makes you a bit angry that she's subsequently stripping these kids of their childhood and innocence by encouraging them to be part of this world.
It was also noted that Spoon was on Bat Lady's wall, and it's evident that Mickey's presence and friendship have saved Spoon from something, seemingly a lonelier life. But goodness, I'd love it if this series delved more into who Spoon Spindell is beyond the supportive instant best friend who found a sense of purpose when Mickey arrived.
And I sure as heck wish we could understand the depth of how Candy's death affected him without the narrative shifting because there wasn't enough room to cover that ground within this hour.
He's a fascinating enough character who we haven't gotten to spend a lot of up close and personal time with outside of his role as a supporter, so now is the time to dive into that.
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Why do you think Alana so easily believed the worst of Will? aside from the encephalitis. She claimed to be his friend again and again but believed the best of Hannibal saying she knew him longer even though, as far as we know it was in a professional capacity, before he got involved with her. If my friend and someone I cared about was accused of what Will was framed for, I mean I would question it at least even a little! especially if said friend had an incredibly gift which he used to help so many times. I would at least stop and think “hmm Hannibal does fit the profile of the Chesapeake ripper to a T” It always bugged me about Alana. I’m rewatching the series and it she irks me all over again haha.
While Jack isn’t perfect, at least he gave Will the benefit of the doubt and did end up believing him and started investigating Hannibal further. Beverley went out on a limb for Will, too! someone who knew will for less time than Alana gave him more consideration! even Zeller later says Beverley believed in Will and that they should have as well bc if they did, she might still be alive
Thank you for an interesting question!
I think the problem is that Will and Alana were never friends, not really. We know they never even talked one on one before the start of the show. He referred to her rather impersonally and she admitted she didn't want to be alone with him because she felt intense professional curiosity toward him. That doesn't count as friendship.
They began to grow closer throughout S1, but even then, few of their interactions had depth. They flirted at times, discussed crimes, and talked about Will being unstable. Almost all of their interactions were colored by this last nuance, which had its impact. S1 starts in autumn that eventually grows into winter, so Will and Alana had just a couple of months where they talked occasionally and kissed once, with Will's jerky mental state haunting them on a constant basis.
As a contrast, Hannibal has been her mentor for over a decade, maybe more. He's always been stable and upfront; he helped numerous people and had a brilliant reputation in their circles. Since he kept beer specifically in stock for her, I think they shared a semblance of friendship for years. I also believe Alana has always been interested in him romantically. It wasn’t strong enough to encourage her to make her move, but it was simmering there and eventually culminated in the start of their ‘romance’.
Alana doesn’t know Will at all when it comes down to it, but she does know Hannibal. There was a lot of evidence against Will and nothing against Hannibal - it's logical of her to trust a well-known stable person over a basically stranger with severe problems. She knew Will's unstable from the start, she knew he’s struggling with something, but she didn’t know much of anything else.
Alana supports Will up until the moment he gets treatment and stops playing in vulnerability. When he tries to kill Hannibal, Alana is horrified. She sees a dark and manipulative person, not a vulnerable soft man who needed help. She also starts feeling protective over Hannibal because Will hurt him. This is the only evidence she sees: Hannibal not hurting anyone, almost dying, and Will being a killer. She really has no reason to believe Will over Hannibal.
I agree about giving Will the benefit of the doubt because of his work, but the situation was very complex: with all the evidence against Will, his abilities are exactly what potentially makes him a perfect killer. He could make up any profile and stick to it to confuse others.
I don't think Beverly went out on a limb for Will - initially, she seemed disgusted with him, but she wanted to use him for the greater good. Will blackmailed her into helping him, and once she began to see proof of his words, she got genuinely invested - not because of Will but because of justice. Will’s disappointment and loneliness in those scenes are profound.
I can't blame any of them, to be honest, with all this evidence and the kind of personality Will had. I do wonder how come they believed Will swallowed an entire ear without chewing it, but that's probably a question for writers :D
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Connie Converse
Maybe you've heard of her, maybe you haven't. I'm writing this for those who haven't.
Connie may well be the first American singer-songwriter, though her name remains relatively obscure. I only stumbled upon her music recently and was instantly captivated by it. My fascination with her artistry drove me to delve deeper into her life and the mystery surrounding her disappearance. This exploration took an emotional toll, as I found myself relating to her on a profound level. Her lyrics already resonated with me, but as I delved into her story and read parts of her final letter titled "To Anyone Who Ever Asks," the line, "Let me go, let me be if I can, let me not be if I can't," moved me to tears. I suddenly felt like her disappearance was such a significant loss to the world.
Then a strange thing happened as I was painting this portrait of her. I glanced at my worn-out, old Intuos4 graphic tablet (yes, it still works), its stickers peeling off, and I couldn't help but cry. In a hypothetical scenario (if I also disappeared) where someone as sensitive as me discovered my possessions, viewed my art, and learned about my life, they might feel the same way about me. In that moment, I gained a newfound appreciation for my art, for what I do, and for who I am.
Being proud of my art has always been a challenge for me. Typically, I create and release my work into the world, allowing it to find its own audience. And I have to admit that a lot of the time I even dislike my art. But lately, I've been working on having the same level of appreciation for my own work as I do for others. I'm sharing this because I know there are many artists, like me, who are excessively self-critical. Yes, I struggle with perfectionism, but even more than that, I used to be so self-critical to the extent that I would stop myself from creating at all.
This year, however, through my personal sketchbook project, I've made a conscious effort to change that. I've been focusing more on savoring the process of simply putting pen to paper.
But enough about me for now; let's shift our attention back to Connie Converse, and I'll just leave this sentence that her brother Philip Converse wrote about her:
"Sis was a genius and a polymath. I do not use the terms lightly. Connie was a poet, a writer of scholarly articles, a cartoonist, a painter, a would-be novelist by her own description, an activist, sculptor, and among other things a songwriter."
She wrote most of her songs between 1950 and 1955 when she was in her late 20s, living in New York City. While they do evoke that period, they are also timeless.
There's another intriguing aspect about her, at least from my perspective. Based on my reading and the accounts of those who knew her, it's my personal belief that she may have been on the asexual spectrum. I don't mean to speculate or offend her family, but this is just my personal opinion. Her music often delved into themes of loneliness and isolation, but it also celebrated her independence and contentment with being on her own. It's evident that she grappled with depression and often felt unheard. If she indeed fell within the asexual spectrum, it's highly plausible that she also carried feelings of being different or "broken," a common experience for asexual individuals, including myself.
There has also been speculation that she might have been a lesbian, though it remains just speculation. Ultimately, we'll never truly know, and her personal life remains her own business. I believe there might be a connection between these aspects. She was undeniably brilliant, and while it might be wishful thinking on my part, the fact that she was never found and her family respected her wishes allows me to imagine that she might still be out there somewhere. I hope she senses how much people cherish her music now and realizes how deeply appreciated she is.
Thank you for reading if you did! If you want to know more about Connie Converse you can listen to Spinning On Air's beautiful podcast episodes about her here, here and here.
#connie converse#illustration#art#personal#personal post#I don't know if this is interesting to someone#i felt like sharing#maybe it can help another soul#thank you for reading
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Today I watched "Lost in Translation". This was my 2nd attempt of watching the film, the first one being very short spanned (lasted for about 5 minutes) till I gave into some distraction or other.
But today, I watched it from start to finish and I enjoyed the slow pace and sombre atmosphere juxtapositioned with bright neon lights and nightlife of Tokyo. Having said that, I wasn't completely hooked either. The movie seemed like it had lot to say but didn’t actually manage to say much.
The supposedly humorous elements of Japanese culture, the oblivion of the Japanese people towards the western tourists' lack of apprehension fell a bit flat for me personally. It all seemed very contrived, shallow and almost making fun of their culture itself rather than the funny moments coming out of the misunderstandings. The scene of the whisky advertisement director being passionate and so emotive with his directions, for it being translated to single and at times not even full-sentences did make me chuckle a little.
It had a good buildup and the characters seemed like they had a lot of depth, which ironically was all left on the surface and we never really got to explore that.
Who was Charlotte? Perhaps that was the question Charlotte was asking herself too and maybe it was a deliberate choice by Sofia Coppola to not give us too much about her as she was in the process of discovering her. I would have cared more for her had I been shown what's been keeping her up at nights,
Loneliness very well ensues a desire to connect with people you just simply connect with, especially in a setting where everything is alien to you. Both the characters wanted something meaningful and were trying to scrape their way out of small talk with strangers and acquaintances. They wanted something more than the night life, strip clubs and capitalistic luxuries and perhaps they found that in each other's company. But we never got to witness that profound connection that drew them towards each other, other than a single scene of them, lying on the bed and a mere hint of the reasons of existentialism for both of them. It all felt vapid but maybe that was the point. As life can feel vapid at times, even when we are hanging out with people we connect the most with.
Having experienced a similar sense of ennui, when I visited my brother at the start of the year, living at his place in a city that I have been before but this time for a much longer period as opposed to weekend visits once a year, while he was extremely busy with work. Having lost my job and trying to make sense of life with new found freedom and abundance of time, I honestly felt completely lost and somehow depraved of connection. Maybe I would have latched on to any seemingly familiar individual to feel something, as the characters in this film did. Rather, I chose to stay in my solitude, reflected a lot about life and indulged in some good old fashioned crying.
Familiar experience, made this movie make me feel much more than it should have and perhaps that is also why I found it lacking as I wanted some profound or a satisfying thread to hold onto, but all I got was a very unsatisfying conclusion that totally ruined everything for me by choosing to portray their connection as romantic as opposed to platonic which I was very much rooting for. I would have appreciated the exploration of the connection that they shared and how they felt so close to each other within less than a week, much more without the romantic angle.
On a side note, how gorgeous is Scarlett Johansson in this movie!
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Could I please request a fic of heisenberg and his knack for calling you a "good girl"? HFAJKHJF I SWEAR YOUR BLURBS FOR THOSE GOT ME IN A CHOKEHOLD. I couldn't get off to anything for a week, except for thinking about heisenberg and being his good girl 😭💕
Heisenberg/F!Darling: Conflicted and Content
He'd only kidnapped ____ a few days earlier, and things were becoming surprisingly mundane. That initial terror and shock of a man with magnetic powers kidnapping her to be his wife had slowly become a lingering uneasiness whenever he got too close, but also a profound loneliness whenever he was gone and had left her alone in the factory's living quarters. He had just put on his coat and turned to say goodbye before going to his workshop.
She remembered the first time he'd said it to her. Just thinking about it left her feeling a mix of embarrassment and arousal--and, of course, embarrassment BECAUSE of that arousal.
"You remember the rules, yeah?"
____ nodded sullenly, hiding as much of herself as possible underneath the bedsheets. She still couldn't stand sharing a bed with her captor, but it was the best source of warmth in the factory. "Don't go outside unless something's on fire or about to kill me," she recited quietly. "Stay away from the workshop and factory floor, but everywhere in the living quarters is okay. Only answer the door if it's The Duke." She clenched her fists under the blankets. "And if I do go outside, I'd better be faster than the Lycans."
He'd knelt, rested a gloved hand on her head and gave her a condescending little pat; the feeling of his hand touching her made her flinch. "Perfect." He glanced down at her body underneath the blankets and smiled; those sheets were familiar to him--nostalgic, after all this time--but seeing his captive little wife underneath them was a very welcome change. "Remember, they're trained to drag you back alive, but not to be gentle about it. But you're not gonna have to find that out firsthand, are you?"
____ silently shook her head. Heisenberg tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and he rose up. "Good girl."
Hearing those two words had such an effect on ____ from the moment she first heard them. The unease and revulsion of being kidnapped by Heisenberg didn't disappear when he'd said it, but something inside her just overrode all of those negative feelings. It was almost as if she WANTED to be good for him, just to get that little scrap of praise--
She bit the inside of her cheek. No! She just wanted to be good for him so he wouldn't punish her. Heisenberg was her captor, that was it. He kidnapped her. He forced her to stay with him and be his "wife." And no amount of affection when he was happy with her changed that. Still...
____ gripped the wooden spoon in her hand and stared down at the stew pot on the stove. She was making her captor his favorite meal, all for the chance to hear him praise her. What the hell was she doing?
Just as she felt a wild urge to knock the entire pot to the floor and make a run for the door, she heard it open with a creak and heard the sound of heavy rain more clearly compared to what was hitting the windows and roof earlier. She turned and saw Heisenberg with water dripping down his coat, hat, and boots. A metal box filled with chopped wood floated behind him, followed by an old worn axe. ____ set down the spoon and turned the stove off.
"Welcome back." She reached for a pair of bowls and quickly filled them up to set on the table. Heisenberg set the firewood and axe down by the door and pulled off his wet clothes. "Do you need a towel?"
"I can grab one," he replied gruffly as he headed into the bathroom for something to dry himself with. "Just get the food ready."
____ held her breath at his curt response, but quickly composed herself. She hadn't said anything wrong--at least, she didn't think so. After she set the table, he came back with a hand towel draped over his shoulders and sank into his chair. The smell of the stew in front of him instantly made his features soften. "Eintopf?"
____ nodded. Heisenberg took a bite and let out a contented hum. He moved his sea to the table and eagerly continued to eat. "This is really warming me up. I'm not in a shitty mood anymore and I've only had a few bites." He narrowed his eyes at the sound of rain pattering against the house. "Fuckin' sky had all the signs of being clear in the afternoon, and then right when I get done with chopping all the firewood--bam, time for a downpour."
"I heard the thunder start and thought 'oh no, I hope he gets back soon,'" ____ replied with a small shy smile. "I already cleared out a spot in the factory where we can stack it and let it dry out all day tomorrow. And with the furnaces and everything going all the time, the heat should make it go by a lot faster."
Heisenberg nodded approvingly as he reached for a beer bottle from the large crate underneath the kitchen table. "Good girl," he praised. "Always thinking ahead."
He noticed ____'s posture change slightly. She shifted her weight under the table as she pressed her thighs together and played with the spoon in her bowl. Heisenberg raised an eyebrow. "You alright?"
____ pressed her lips together. "Yep," she said quickly. "I'm just...um." She cleared her throat. "I'm happy whenever you tell me I did something helpful."
"I know that much," Heisenberg replied, taking another swig of beer. "The first thing you did on the day you finally calmed down was to fold all my laundry."
"Well, it was just sitting there in a pile in that old wicker basket," ____ insisted shyly with a smile. "And you still wouldn't let me leave the room except to go to the bathroom, so I didn't have much else to do."
Heisenberg leaned forward in his chair a bit. "But you didn't do whatever you did just now when I thanked you back then," he countered. The corners of his lips turned up into a smirk. "What made you extra happy this time?"
____ felt his foot graze her leg under the table and felt about as hot as the stew in front of her. She chewed her bottom lip for a moment, unsure of what he'd say when he found out she had this strange...fetish? Kink? And for the man who kidnapped her and kept her prisoner, no less. She already felt ashamed enough without him holding it over her head. "Well," she said hesitantly. "I like when you call me 'good.' That's all."
Heisenberg's foot climbed further up to her calf. "That's not quite right," he replied. "I didn't just say good." He gave her a knowing smile and moved to place his hand on her shoulder underneath the table. "I said you're a good girl."
____'s breath hitched and she leaned into his touch the instant he called her that. As much as it made her head spin and her thighs tingle, she still wasn't sure what to think of herself. She still wanted to escape...didn't she? Of course she did! So why did she like it so much when her captor praised her and called her a good girl? Why did she feel so at ease eating a home-cooked dinner with him? And why did she want to sink into his hand on her shoulder?
She looked down to avoid his gaze. "Do you really have to make fun of me for this?"
Heisenberg chuckled and rubbed her shoulder with his thumb. "When you pout like that, absolutely," he replied dryly. "You don't need to be ashamed, though. What's wrong with being a good girl for me? Hm?"
____ looked up at him and smiled sadly. Her voice was slightly wobbly as she tried not to let all of her emotions spill out at once. "Aside from you being the man who kidnapped me?"
Heisenberg stared at her for a moment, and a few silent tears ran down her face as she trembled. Fuck. She said it out loud. She made him upset by bringing it up after acting like things were better for so long. She ruined his dinner and she hated that she even felt bad for it.
He rose up from his chair and gently pulled her up by the arms. Before she could react, he had embraced her and was holding her against him. "I know it's been hard on you, y'know." ____'s lip wobbled and she clung to him as he held her. "Believe me, I know what it's like to be taken away from your home, your whole life--by some crazy asshole who wanted to make you part of their family."
He continued to let her cling to him for a while as she cried, and then pulled back to look at her. "You've been better to me than I deserve," he said. "And you don't have to love me. I took you to keep as my wife, but I know better than to try and force you to pretend you don't resent me for it. But..." He took her by the hand and used his powers to lift both their metal soup bowls. "Since you've been such a good wife--or a good girl, if you'd prefer--"
____ couldn't help but smile and let out a small scoff through her tears.
"You deserve a little pampering yourself. C'mon. We'll pick a movie from the tape collection and have dinner on the couch. And after that, we can do anything you want." He glanced at the rain streaking the window nearby with a slightly irritated look. "Except go outside. I'm still pretty fuckin' wet."
____ settled down next to Heisenberg after handing him the film she'd decided on, and felt a surge of warmth from her chest as he manipulated her spoon and had it float up to her mouth for hands-free eating. As far as kidnappers and their victims went, she wondered if after a while they all felt so strangely conflicted and content at the same time.
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winter.
in which weather can be profound and personal growth is messy.
OR, my own imagining of post-book 2.
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they find each other later. much later. weeks and months later, really, during winter break. although, Poppy guesses, it’s not really winter break if they’ve both graduated and left their days at Belvoire behind them. it’s just winter.
so it’s winter when they find each other, somewhere in that awkward week between Christmas and the new year that doesn’t even feel like a real point in time. there’s snow and belated family gatherings and nights spent alone as a forecasted blizzard rips through the city.
it’s an odd kind of loneliness that settles in Poppy’s chest during that week, like she’s missing something so small yet so important and can’t quite identify what it is. but she pushes on. puts on a smile and pretends it’s all fine as she sits through a belated Christmas dinner with her parents.
and then, only when she finally manages to escape her parents’ brownstone just before midnight, when she steals a few quiet moments for herself in the candy aisle of the bodega that she felt compelled to step into, does she find AJ.
“fancy meeting you here.” the voice is familiar and pokes at those silly little words that have been rattling around her mind for months.
it’s always been you.
she bristles, pretends it’s unresolved hate that makes her react that way, and turns around to face the voice. “AJ.” clipped. neutral. good, no way she’s going to lose to AJ Hughes in the candy aisle of a bodega.
“just can’t seem to stay away from me, huh?”
“i could live a very peaceful life if i never had to see you again.” it feels like a lie coming off her tongue, and that gaping thing in her chest screams and begs her to take it back.
AJ clutches her chest and makes like she’s been hurt, but she smiles through it all and Poppy never wants to think about why she hasn’t stopped thinking about AJ’s stupid smile since graduation. and that stupid declaration. and that god-awful kiss that had left her shocked and speechless and her lips tingling with fiery— whatever.
“doing anything right now?” AJ asks.
“walking away from you.” and Poppy proves her point by turning on her heels and walking down the aisle. she holds her breath firm in her chest as she walks, and only releases it when she hears AJ follow after her.
“first of all,” AJ starts as she falls in step with Poppy, “i know you wanted me to follow you. and second of all” —she stops in front of Poppy, forcing them to stand face-to-face— “wanna grab a drink?”
-
so she grabs a drink with AJ. so what? no biggie.
except one drink turns into two, turns into three, turns into making out outside the bar, which, naturally, turns into fucking in AJ’s kitchen because they couldn’t make it to the bed.
no biggie.
-
Poppy braces herself for the cold and flees AJ’s apartment early in the morning.
she decides that that was the last time. no more running into AJ. no more grabbing a drink because what’s one drink between old university friends? because they aren’t friends, weren’t ever really friends. no, they toed the line between enemies and two people with a complicated arrangement who can’t seem to do one thing right even now!
so that’s the end. for the best, Poppy thinks to herself as she wraps her coat tighter around her body as the wind slices at her skin.
and she feels... okay about that decision. she knows, logically, that not seeing AJ again is for the best. but she also knows, less logically, that her bed is much too large, much too cold when she crawls into it that night.
-
she loses track of the days. gets lost in a dreadfully dull cycle—wake, eat, phone, shower, sleep, repeat. she keeps tabs on all her old friends through their socials, and starts to wonder if they were ever actually friends.
has she ever actually had a real friend?
she likes Chloe’s latest post—a photo of her on vacation in the Swiss alps—and then turns her phone off.
then those four silly words echo in Poppy’s head again.
a lie, she told herself as soon as AJ had breathed them into existence. and it had worked for a while, had tamped down the hope she allowed herself to feel bloom in her chest for just one moment, because she’ll never let herself hope again.
a game just like everything else, she tells herself now as she watches the snow fall from the dark sky.
and then before she knows what’s happening, Poppy’s off her couch and out the door as those four stupid, awful, annoying words chant in her mind.
she had made a note of AJ’s address when she left a few mornings ago. only so she could stay away and make good on that decision to never see her again. so it’s no trouble getting to AJ’s building—modest and nothing particularly exciting.
homey, huh? AJ had said with an air of insecurity as they’d stumbled inside a few nights ago and Poppy had paused their make-out to judge and look and absorb AJ’s new home.
she doesn’t know what to do now that she’s met with the reality of her late night decision. leaving would be wise, she knows, but she just can’t seem to get her legs to carry her away.
she slips inside the building behind someone else who’s too lost in their phone to notice Poppy, and rides the elevator up to AJ’s floor.
she knocks on AJ’s door, softly in the hope that maybe AJ won’t hear it and she can leave unnoticed and pretend this never happened. but then there are footsteps getting closer and Poppy’s heart beat drums in her ears and then the door opens.
“what’re you doing here?” AJ asks, her voice firm and eyes hard.
clearly a mistake coming here, Poppy decides and suddenly she wants nothing more than to be at home curled in her too large and too cold bed.
“i don’t know,” Poppy admits.
AJ nods, glances back over her shoulder into her apartment, and Poppy immediately thinks she’s interrupted something important.
“did you mean it?” Poppy quickly asks before AJ has a chance to tell her to leave.
“mean what?”
“what you said at graduation?”
AJ’s head quirks to the side, clearly trying to remember.
or maybe she does remember and she’s just trying to give you an out. trying to let you down easy.
but the words thrum through her veins and she needs an answer now if she ever wants to be able to carry on with life.
“when you said ‘it’s always been you’ did you mean it?”
AJ continues to stare and for the first time ever, Poppy can’t read it. or maybe doesn’t want to be able to read it for fear of what it will mean.
“did we actually hate each other?” Poppy now asks, desperate to just get some answers and keep AJ in front of her.
“do you think we did?”
“i don’t know.”
AJ nods and clicks her tongue. “maybe you should figure that out before you come knocking on people’s doors at midnight.”
AJ moves to close the door but Poppy’s quick to stop it. “no, no, wait. please.”
maybe she hears something in Poppy’s voice, because AJ pauses, waits.
“i know we didn’t hate each other. i know that. but i just… i wanted to hate you. i wanted to hate you so much and i don’t know why i couldn’t just hate you because your were everything i despised. maybe you know why because you always seemed like you knew something that i didn’t.”
AJ doesn’t say anything right away, and Poppy, for a moment, thinks she’s finally gone too far. that after everything she’s put AJ through, this midnight-doorstep-declaration will be what costs Poppy having AJ in her life. and then—
“i used to think you hated me, way back when we first met. i didn’t care, of course. i never hated you, even then, but i didn’t like you much. but i quickly learnt to see through everything you were throwing at me. i think you subconsciously knew that you needed me because i was so different from everyone you’d met before, i was challenging.”
“you weren’t challenging.”
AJ quirks her head to the side a playful smile pulls her lips up.
“maybe a little bit,” Poppy admits, and admitting something to AJ doesn’t bother her and she realises that it maybe never did. “but it was nice.”
“yeah, i thought so too. we were so different in a few ways and so alike in others. i think that’s why we worked… why we probably needed each other.”
Poppy sits with that for a moment, and thinks that AJ might have a point.
“my bed’s too big,” Poppy says, and she doesn’t know why she decides to admit that. “i just— i think i’m lonely and i think i miss you.”
“you think or you know?”
“i miss you and i need you and i wish i’d done things differently.”
AJ just stares for a moment and then: “a friend of mine is having a party for the new year tomorrow night, you should come with me.”
“really?”
“yeah, really. i think you’d have a nice time if you came and i know i would enjoy it more.”
Poppy’s cheeks turn a little red. “okay, yeah, i’ll come.”
and then they stand awkwardly at AJ’s front door, unsure of what to do next but desperate to not let this moment fade. AJ steps aside a moment later; an invitation, silent in its declaration but loud in the space between them.
Poppy smiles and steps close to AJ. she cups her cheek and says, “Thank you,” before moving inside.
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Call of the Night: Sick, Lonely Humans (and Vampires)
Arisa is the second most popular waitress at Maid Café Vamp. Yes, that’s right, second. She was first, but then was supplanted by an actual vampire, Midori, when the latter joined the establishment.
But that’s still pretty good, right? Second is nothing to scoff at. To be honest with you, if I was the second best in my occupation at work, I think I would feel satisfied. But Arisa isn’t like me. Despite not letting on about it, it’s revealed later in episode ten of Call of the Night that she feels insecure about her position, so much so that she hatches a scheme to turn things around that ultimately blows up in her face.
Having been led to Maid Café Vamp by Midori, Nazuna and Ko meet Arisa and offer to help her with a stalker problem she’s been having. An anonymous social media user is posting candid photos of the maid online. But as Ko eventually deduces, the stalker is none other than Arisa herself, using the account to create the kind of buzz that might raise her back to number one so that she can, what, get more tips? Gain more fame and influence?
No, it’s nothing so superficial. Arisa deceives her co-workers and new friends so that she can gain a measure of self-worth, a feeling she lost when the top spot slipped away from her.
When confronted with her deed, and with her head hanging down in shame and humility, Arisa says she’ll resign her position. But right at the moment of resignation, comes another voice, one that speaks with authority and surprising gentleness (for a vampire):
“Arisa-chan, it’s okay to be ill.”
Midori, who is right at the center of this situation since it’s her popularity that Arisa has reacted so strongly against, offers the other maid words of understanding and grace. “You made a bit of a mistake this time,” she says before adding, “humans are pretty much all sick in their own ways.”
The tension and embarrassment begin to melt away as Midori explains how all people are “sick,” including all the waitresses and patrons at their café, also hinting that she has the same type of self-worth issues as Arisa.
Midori doesn’t let her off the hook completely, but nevertheless, Arisa begins to feel relief in knowing that she’s not alone.
The acknowledgment that we are all suffering under the same condition can be powerful and moving. While most of us accept that we’re imperfect, to hear it said out loud confirms the condition and keeps us from the isolation we can experience when our minds relentlessly impress upon us the guilt of sin, the loneliness that it brings, and the lie that we are our sin and nothing more.
I remember times in my own life when I’ve dealt with some secret sin. While I understood both that others were working through their own sins and that we all as Christians are forgiven through grace, I still believed the lie that “you’re really messed up, more than any reasonable person should be.” And then there were times, too, when I felt relief and freedom as each member of an accountability group admitted that we were dealing with profound sins and issues in our lives, if not exactly the same ones.
There’s something godly about the open sharing of our imperfections. If we think about it, Midori’s approach here is reminiscent of Christ’s response every time he encountered sinners, maybe most famously with the woman caught in adultery (John 8:1-11).
Throughout his ministry, religious leaders tried to play “gotcha” with Jesus. The Pharisees, furious that this “upstart” would say that they—the experts specially appointed by God to lead the people in religious life—were neither in compliance with the letter nor the heart of the law that they followed so systematically, sought to discredit Jesus by attempting to show that his teachings were not in accordance with scripture. In this specific situation, a woman caught in adultery is dragged to where Jesus is teaching, thrown down before him, and surrounded by a crowd ready to stone her to death, as was the penalty called for by the law. Would Jesus, a champion of women and the downtrodden, approve of the execution, or would he deny scripture?
Jesus does neither. In fact, at first he just hunches down and draws in the dirt. Can you imagine? A public execution, in which the community members themselves are the executioners, is about to occur, and Jesus just traces the sand as if there’s no pressure on him and the woman at all. After a time, he replies to the crowd: You can stone her, but only one who is perfect can carry out the judgment.
One by one, the surrounding crowd—the older (and perhaps wiser) and then then the younger—walk away, apparently convicted of their own imperfections, leaving the woman unharmed. Jesus, who had bent down on the ground to draw in the dirt again, then asks the woman where her accusers have gone and if any remain to condemn her. She responds that no one is left, and Jesus tells her that he won’t condemn her either (though as the only perfect one, he has the right to), and instead tells her she should leave her life of sin.
Like Arisa, this woman has been publicly exposed, unable to hide her deeds. But rather than turn away in disgust, both Midori and Jesus approach with compassion. In her moment of exposure, Arisa must have felt so alone. I imagine that for the adulterous woman, she must also have felt abandoned, without a single ally—until she was brought before Jesus.
Arisa, too, found an unexpected ally in Midori. She no doubt expected to be met with anger and derision from her friends and colleagues, but instead receives understanding.
But while the episode models this life-giving shift in focus really well, it’s still missing something. Midori can only go so far, for as she extends her metaphor of illness to all humanity (and to vampires, too), she includes herself. And both by that self-admission and a lack of any hope beyond the advice to just “accept that you’re sick,” Midori indicates that she does not know the cure.
But for us, there is a hope. There is a remedy to the disease that infects all humankind, and it is in the person of Christ. Remember what Jesus tells the woman: he will not condemn her. She is forgiven of her sin. This is the cure that God offers us as well: a forgiveness not based on what we do—which deserves punishment—but based on who God is—One who demonstrates love to a people who don’t deserve it. This is the gospel, that the perfect God of heaven gifts us a sure and certain hope that we cannot attain for ourselves. This is the “good news”—without it, we are hopeless.
Jesus also follows up by instructing the woman to stop living in her sin. A life impacted by the hope of Christ leads to transformation in which our lives exhibit more and more the fruits of the Spirit as we leave sin behind and grow in faith.
And this is a great promise of the Christian life. Like Arisa, when our thoughts and deeds are exposed to the light, our shameful condition is revealed. But also like Arisa, we are loved by one who has the right to turn away, yet instead reminds us that we’re not alone, and that we are not the only ones suffering from this disease. In fact, we are like everyone else, and it is Christ himself that gives us hope by standing by us, saving us, and pointing us toward a better life.
Humans are pretty much all sick in their own ways, you know? This is true. But thank God that we have the hope of salvation and transformation in Christ, who has come to be our physician, to treat and cure us so that in him, we are sick no more.
=====
Call of the Night is available for streaming on HiDIVE.
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I’ll Be Okay
I hate my own company, I used to admire and love the solitude of being alone but now I do my best to avoid it. I didn’t hate the idea of solitude, I didn’t hate the idea of being alone, I hated the idea of being trapped with myself. Deep in the pit of my chest there’s this profound emptiness that I found never quite filled up. So I found solace in the company of others in the hopes that this pit would slowly but surely disappear.
That pit persisted it stayed, regardless of the people I ran too, regardless of the company I found. Before my girlfriend left me, I thought that this would be the pit that would fill this general loneliness, she then left me, but during and after the relationship that sinking pit was still there like an uncle who’s overstayed his welcome, an uncle who puts his dirty shoes on the coach, an uncle who watches the Kapamilya channel at full volume.
I don’t think I’m ready for something serious again, because I am deeply empty person. All my life I’ve been leading my life as if I’m human Tupperware looking for thing to fill and distract me from this pit. For as long as I lived I thought that this pit was to be filled by other people and that was the ONLY solve, now I know the only one who can fill this pit, this void and this feeling of lack is me.
I’ve been trying to find the little and big philosophical things that make me happy. I specifically want to out this piece of advice my friend LJ gave me, “now that she left and she was a big factor in your joy, maybe you should learn to define joy without her” ( her being my ex-girlfriend, her could also mean the random people I used to fill that hole ).
I’m excited to define happiness in my own terms, to learn to love solitude and being alone again. I used to think that the solution was in the arms of another, but more than often they still catch you and deep inside you’re still broken. It’s nobody’s job to fix you, unless it’s your mama of course, but other than that nobody is obliged to take a look at your baggage, your trauma, your personality problems and that lingering feeling of emptiness and offer to fix it but you.
I really am trying my best, because before in times of hardship my friends and relationships was the solace I ran too, but every time our short moments together ended, I could not have been more deeply unhappy to know that I was alone with myself again. This I found out is not how I want to go about my life anymore, I want to love myself wholesale, embrace all cracks and bumps and still work on whatever needs to be worked on
I don’t know this is probably my longest blog entry yet, it really is something I enjoy and I’m planning to get back into again. I wanted to end this entry with a list of gratitude.
Thank you to my Mama who has been very patient with me, she turned a break up into an opportunity to fix myself and really turn things around. I am grateful that you look in my dusty attic of a mind and really just tell me what I need and that’s to look for contentment within myself and loving myself outright.
Thank you to my Tita Eda for being the hard ass that you are, you always make the truth more palatable even though you have to be tough on me. Thank you for teaching me to cry and mourn but now allow this sadness to envelop me.
Thank you to my friends, but thank you to LJ specifically, you saved my life with this advice and I thank you for being supportive and really just pulling me out of my headspace when everything felt so hopeless.
Lastly thank you Zion for loving me in the short while that you did, what we had was beautiful and you taught me to foster care for myself. Even though you had to leave for yourself and now I realize for the betterment of both of us, I want you to know that I am still grateful to have been a recipient of that love, of Your Love. I pray that in my next life that I grow old with you.
I know there will be setbacks and I know that this feeling of sadness and “dili ko ka kasabot sa akong gi-bati” does not flow out of you in slowly smaller and bigger pieces. I learned through LJ again (she really saved my life) and through observation, that this grief comes in waves that doesn’t make sense, some days small, some days gigantic, some days you feel empty, some days you feel happy, just trust that this is progress.
Just trust that this is progress.
“Ma okay lang unta ko, Puhon”
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Long before the pandemic, the threat of illness was already very real for older people. Where America has landed is hardly a new way of life but rather one that is simply more onerous. “One way to think about it is that this is a new risk that’s out there” alongside other natural causes of death, such as diabetes and heart failure, Black said. But it’s a risk older Americans can’t ignore, especially as the country has dropped all COVID precautions. Since Christmas Eve, I have felt uneasy about how readily I normalized putting so little effort into protecting my nonagenarian loved ones, despite knowing what might happen if they got sick. For older people, who must contend with the peril of attending similar gatherings, “there’s sort of no good choice,” Black said. “The world has changed.”
But this new post-pandemic reality also includes insidious effects on older people that aren’t directly related to COVID itself. Those who put off nonemergency visits to the doctor earlier in the pandemic, for example, risked worsening their existing health conditions. The first year of the pandemic plunged nearly everyone into isolation, but being alone created problems for older adults that still persist. Before the pandemic, the association between loneliness and higher mortality rates, increased cardiovascular risks, and dementia among older adults was already well established. Increased isolation during COVID amplified this association.
The consequences of isolation were especially profound for older adults with physical limitations, Naoko Muramatsu, a community-health professor at the University of Illinois at Chicago, told me. When caregivers or family members were unable to visit, people who required assistance for even the smallest tasks, such as fetching the mail and getting dressed, had no options. “If you don’t walk around and if you don’t do anything, we can expect that cognitive function will decline,” Muramatsu said; she has observed this firsthand in her research. One Chinese American woman, interviewed in a survey of older adults living alone with cognitive impairment during the pandemic, described the debilitating effect of sitting at home all day.“I am so useless now,” she told the interviewer. “I am confused so often. I forget things.”
Even older adults who have weathered the direct and indirect effects of the pandemic still face other challenges that COVID has exacerbated. Many have long relied on personal caregivers or the staff at nursing facilities. These workers, already scarce before the pandemic, are even more so now because many quit or were affected by COVID themselves. “Long-term care has been in a crisis situation for a long time, but it’s even worse now,” Muramatsu said, noting that many home care workers are older adults themselves. Nursing homes nationwide now have nearly 200,000 fewer employees compared with March 2020, which is especially concerning as the proportion of Americans over age 65 explodes.
Older people won’t have one single approach to contending with this sad reality. “Everybody is trying to figure out what is the best way to function, to try to have some level of everyday life and activity, but also keep your risk of getting sick as low as possible,” Brangman said. Some of her patients are still opting to be cautious, while others consider this moment their “only chance to see grandchildren or concerts or go to family gatherings.” Either way, older Americans will have to wrestle with these decisions without so many of their peers who have died from COVID.
Again, many of these people did not have it great before the pandemic, even if the rest of the country wasn’t paying attention. “We often don’t provide the basic social support that older people need,” Kenneth Covinsky, a clinician-researcher at the UCSF Division of Geriatrics, said. Rather, ageism, the willful ignorance or indifference to the needs of older people, is baked into American life. It is perhaps the main reason older adults were so badly affected by the pandemic in the first place, as illustrated by the delayed introduction of safety precautions in nursing homes and the blithe acceptance of COVID deaths among older adults. If Americans couldn’t bring themselves to care at any point over the past three years, will they ever?
— Life Is Worse for Older People Now
#yasmin tayag#life is worse for older people now#current events#medicine#healthcare#geriatrics#elder care#elder neglect#caretaking#epidemiology#covid 19#pandemic#naoko muramatsu#kenneth covinsky
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Something Of Your Own by jscribbles
Rating: Explicit
Status: Complete
Summary: Anxious and sheltered thirty-four year old Castiel Grace is convinced he's going to be weird and alone forever. But that all changes when he meets a hot green-eyed charmer at a bar and brings him home.
What he thinks is a one night stand quickly turns into one of the most profound relationships he's had in his life. Without meaning to, Dean teaches him that anyone can hurt, even when they're smiling, and that loneliness isn't exclusive to those who are alone.
I am writing comments while reading so here it goes...
Just a few paragraphs from the first chapter and I already know that I would be able to relate. I am socially awkward too and always have a problem with talking especially when expressing myself. But not when writing. They told me that I have a way with my choice of words but with me saying them, is always a problem.
Cas habits of overthinking is like mine which often leads to insecurities and doubts in my case.
I love how Dean and Cas got to talk. Because some of the fanfics I read about them tends to have a misunderstanding because of lack of communication. While misunderstandings fanfic is fun to read, it is still frustrating.
I kinda wish I have a friend like Naomi. Someone who wants to keep me safe. It would be frustrating and yet heartwarming. But, they should know their limits. Friends or not, I still have boundaries that needs to be respected.
John is sick and dying and he's still a jerk. He has his moments where he tried but to a child it isn't enough sometimes.
I nearly cried when I read what Dean said after he finally bottomed. There was relief in those simple lines and I felt it. The line from the story, 'hyper-masculinity and homophobia and self-hatred he’d internalized for so long was really all bullshit' is real.
I got hurt with Castiel after what Naomi did. Which changed my mind about having her as a friend. Seriously, how dare she! But Cas powered through and showed her. It also showed me that you shouldn't argue with someone while high-strung with emotion because our mind take a back seat during that time and we might say something we don't mean.
Now I understand the title in a deeper level. Both Castiel and Dean have nothing of their own. Because of their issues and the people around them.
It used to run on my mind. That people were nice with me because they only need me for something. That I am being used because they know I won't say no. I grew tired of thinking like that so I started not caring and do what I want. Within reason of course. It's hard but it was nice knowing that you always have a choice.
Their confrontation made me cry this time.
I like how the jscribbles manage to include lines from Supernatural that is associated with Dean and Cas.
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Finding Vivian Maier
New York Photographer (February 1st 1926 - April 21st 2009)
"Well, I suppose nothing is meant to last forever. We have to make room for other people, it's a wheel. You get on, you have to go to the end and then somebody else takes their place." - Vivian Maier
Vivian Maier was a profound artist in her time that wasn't discovered until after her death. During her life, her main career path was as an in-home nanny for various families. It was not discovered until years after her death, when John Maloof bought a mysterious box of negatives from an auction site, that she had hundreds of thousands of unexposed negatives from her secret passion of photography.
It was discovered that Maier, whilst working as a nanny, would take her children out for adventures into the lowly parts of town. The poor areas, slums, garbage areas and docks to photograph the different parts of life she discovered. She described her self in this was as "sort of a spy," in one of her voice recordings.
Maier lived a very secretive life, not letting many people around her know about her private life more than what was absolutely necessary. Everyone she had been around for long enough to get to know her had described her as; "eccentric, strange, didn't fit in, private" and "a packrat" due to her obsession with keeping items she had found or collected from the streets.
Maier's photography was mainly centred around human tragedy, she captured a lot of misfortuned people as she said she "resonated with the poor." It is seen in her photography how she would almost infiltrate others' space as closely as she could without becoming a disturbance, or without being noticed. It is said she used a Roleflex camera so as not to be so obviously taking photos on the streets.
Her self portraiture I also find quite strange, as she is always taking photos of herself through a reflection of another item, window, mirror, puddle or shadow but never with the camera focussed on her entirely. She always has the same melancholy expression in her self portraits, never smiling or putting on another character or posing to tell some kind of story.
From what I have learned about her personality, I would draw the conclusion that she was living with Borderline Personality Disorder, which at the time would have never been diagnosed due to it being a mental illness no one could 'see to believe.' My reasoning behind this is that Maier generally captured moments of tragedy, things that a normal person would find too grotesque to save or share, but she seemed to have an obsession with the morbidity of life around her.
Due to the amount of photos she had taken, I would characterise this as obsessive behaviour. I believe Maier took to many photos as a way of being able to process her experiences, she may have believed that if she could capture them she could remember them to their finest detail. When taking photos of other people she focussed almost entirely on their face and upper body, as her photos were always taken from below eye level. This gave the subjects of her photos a sense of power as you look at their eyes and they are making eye-contact with Maier, not the lens. Almost as if they were unaware they were being photographed.
People with BPD generally experience symptoms such as antisocial behaviour, compulsive behaviour, irritability, risk-taking, social isolation, loneliness, general discontent, mood swings, distorted self-image, grandiosity and fluctuations in empathetic ability.
I believe these are shown through her photography, as well as the way she presented herself to the public. Specifically in her self-portraits, Maier is only ever seen through a reflection, which could symbolise how she has never fully felt real or has only ever seen her in a distorted way through what society had deemed as 'normal.'
From the recolections of the people she worked with, she was always a loner with not a lot of social interraction, except from the children she worked with. This I could see as a way for her to feed her obsession with exploration though her photography, as she would take the children on "adventures" to show them the way she experienced life. Therefore making her photography so profound for the time, there was no one else like her.
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Dear younger me,
First and foremost, always know that you were never, ever too much. Not then, not ever.
Within you blazes a fire, so fierce and radiant, that it dispels the darkest shadows. You have an infectious zest for life, a flame that should have been celebrated. I'm deeply pained that mom tried to diminish that brilliance.
As I look at this photo of us, and I can’t help but think what was it like, you know before everything spiraled.
You've carried burdens far too heavy for your tender shoulders. Your profound empathy, while a tremendous gift, has at times also been an overwhelming weight. But it's this very empathy that has made you the compassionate soul you are today.
I ache for the moments you endured in silence, the tears that slipped away when no one was looking. Those nights when the weight of loneliness pressed heavy on your heart, and the days you felt like letting go. The days you carved your hurt into your body. I wish I could hold that fragile version of you, telling you that brighter days are ahead.
You were introduced to life's harsh realities far too soon. Through trauma's unforgiving lens, you tried to make sense of the world and your place in it. And mom, she should have been your safe haven, your protector. You never should've known the pain of her hand or the chill of her harsh words.
I deeply regret and am heartbroken that you were left unprotected, that the very ones who should've shielded you left marks that went beyond skin-deep.
Forgive me for the hurtful words I echoed back to you, reinforcing the falsehoods mom planted. Those lies were never about you but a reflection of her own torments.
After all the storms you've weathered, it's okay to feel weary. You've always selflessly given to others, sometimes at the cost of your own well-being.
But here's the marvel of you: you not only endured, you triumphed. From each trial, heartbreak, and adversity, you rose stronger and more resilient. Now, the journey is about more than just getting through. It's about blossoming, rediscovering the joys and embracing the abundant love awaiting you. It's time to unpack the burdens of the past and tend to your healing heart.
Your strength, resilience, and unwavering ability to love, even in the face of overwhelming odds, leave me in awe.
Know this: I am endlessly proud of you. I love you, and I always will.
Love, Me
#inner work#inner child#quotes#words#childhood trauma#trauma#healing#mental health#toxic family#toxic mom#writers on tumblr#female writers#writers and poets
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[movie review] teenage mutant ninja turtles: out of the shadows (2016)
there are still some infuriating things about this, but it inherited nearly all of them from the first movie and it's just so much better on the whole. and i mean that in basically every aspect of the movie. this really did actually feel like a ninja turtles movie for the vast majority of its runtime. not one of the best ninja turtles movies by any stretch of the imagination, but this is still significant progress.
again this is just me reading between the lines, but bay’s influence seems much less pronounced in this movie. i mean obviously there are some things that are baked in that can’t be easily changed like the overall design of the turtles and splinter, but they did what they could to mitigate that. the turtles’ designs are still pretty awful but it’s clear that some effort was made to soften them. splinter in particular clearly had a lot of work done on him, though he still doesn’t look good. but in both cases, at least they look… less bad? i’ll take less bad.
and there were also some things they just wholesale changed. like i love the turtles’ vehicle being constructed out of a garbage truck instead of that weird golf cart thing they had at the end of the first movie. and shredder just has regular armor and a helmet that looks… well, kind of like a shredder helmet! it is frustrating that he doesn’t put it on until literally right before he gets betrayed by krang, but whatever. i’ll take all of this over the cgi monstrocity he was in the previous movie. he’s actually much more memorable in this one than he was in the first one despite being a fall guy instead of the main villain!
in fairness, out of the shadows did make some rather serious missteps that were not forced by its predecessor. the entire subplot with the turtles’ infighting just felt unbelievably unearned, poorly written, and just fizzled out instead of actually being resolved. and having some of them want to turn into humans in the first place is just the height of antifun in this reviewer’s humble opinion. i mean, look at the sonic the hedgehog movie if you want an example of how to show a character experiencing profound loneliness of the same kind without ever implying that the way to fix that would be to stop being what he is.
having casey jones be a cop is just… probably the most thoroughly wrongheaded way i can possibly imagine writing him? it’s frustrating, because i actually love stephen amell and there are a few moments of brilliance from him where i found myself thinking, “wow i really wish he were playing casey jones instead of this fucking cop who is also named casey jones for some reason.” like, it wasn’t pitch-perfect casting or anything, but he totally could have pulled it off.
i know i said bay’s influence seems significantly curtailed here, and it does, but it’s not like… gone gone? the design of krang’s suit and the midair construction of the technodrome both feel like some transformers-ass shit and both play heavily into the final boss battle of the movie, so, you know. but it still wasn’t shot like a transformers movie! like, i was totally able to follow everything that was happening and there were plenty of neat little character beats within it. it still felt very turtley for the most part. and honestly, given all the other stuff this movie got right, it’s kind of whatever?
speaking of those things. this movie stays with the turtles so much more, omg. and i feel like despite her screentime being considerably curtailed, april actually makes more meaningful contributions to the movie’s plot and is treated with a great deal more respect? yeah, there are a few obligatory moments of her using her sex appeal to her advantage, but that’s just the thing. she’s very intentionally using it to gain an edge, it’s not just the camera leering at her ass for like 30 uninterrupted seconds in the middle of an action scene. no, i’m not trying to say that this is #feminism, but it’s still a damn sight better than what we got in the first movie. and like, just look at her interactions with vern. she basically bullies him into helping them instead of having to plead with him, and she just brushes off all his attempts to flirt with her instead of either being oblivious or having to roll her eyes and just go with it.
but by far the best thing about this movie, and the main reason i have a fairly uncomplicatedly positive opinion of it, is bebop and rocksteady. they are so good, you guys!! i love their bromance (and frankly, i ship it), i love their exuberance, i love that they’re fucking into being transformed??? like, they think it’s awesome??? ugh, it’s so damn refreshing!!! seriously, they are easily the best thing about this movie, and the rather frustrating fact that no other film version of this franchise has ever included them kind of pushes this across the finish line as a movie i have genuinely positive feelings about.
no, it’s not perfect. no, i didn’t expect it to be. but i enjoyed watching it, and for like probably 75% of its runtime i felt like i was actually watching a ninja turtles movie, and i just had absolutely no reason to expect that after how awful its predecessor was.
b-rank
#tmnt#ninja turtles#teenage mutant ninja turtles#teenage mutant ninja turtles: out of the shadows#movie review#movies#reviews
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