most of the stuff i draw is goofy, so have this instead!! we love pain in this mansion!!

"i knew i should have kept it together. i know i must have seen death like this before recently, even if i could not remember, so maybe i shouldn't have been surprised it might happen to you too. but when i saw you dead for the first time..."

i imagine seeing sirius dead for the first time must have been a shocker. in my hypothetical this is the first death he sees besides claire's, but to him it seems like the first because of how he doesn't remember claire's cause of death.

Guess who is the writing team's favorite character in Only Friends? Easy edition

Let's lay out every single thing we know about the characters in the series:

Boston: Playboy and likes to have sex with everyone no matter who they are, hates betrayal, loves photography, has problems with his dad who is a politician, initially a free-loader in their group project but started to contribute, does not care about repercussions to his actions because he's going to NY.

Nick: Obsessed with Boston and willing to be nasty for him, works at the electronics shop even if that is not his dream, willing to be with Dan or whoever but goes back to Boston if he can

Top: Top-tier, asshole, smug, rich AF, has trauma with fire and smoke but not explored well, not used to sleeping alone that he needs pills, drugs or Mew, CHEATER (as what people say), playboy but we haven't seen him kiss another dude in this series except Mew and Boston

Mew: Virgin and cute, table-keeper aka care-taker of the gang, has two moms, likes to read, wants to have good grades, knows what he wants, got LASIK, willing to party and use drugs after getting his heart broken by a top-tier guy, self-confidence got destroyed, dated his best friend but did not work

Sand: Poor boy (not really but sort of), singer who is in a band, works every day that we even have a breakdown of his source of income, sells plum wine but is cautious because it is prohibited, has an ex and mad at Top for stealing the said ex, has a mom who works in a club and a dad he has never met, dreams of traveling and going to music festivals, mentions songs and bands he likes every chance he can that audience can make a Spotify playlist for him, addicted to Ray no matter how Ray treats him like a door mat for the most part, willing to throw Nick under the bus and steal that recording to have his revenge on Top, paid by Ray's dad, has a dedicated Birthday episode

Ray: Rich that a simple project turned to be a large-scale hostel one, uses drugs, always want to pick a fight with everyone (as established in EP1), hot-headed, chronic alcoholic, has attempted throughout the show to drunk drive, crashed the car that he had to go to community service, treats other people like shit (looking at Sand), obsessed with Mew and/or the idea of Mew, multiple offender of kissing people without their consent, had the guts to force people to have sex with them, goes to people's houses unannounced or gate-crashes campings just because he wants to, CHEATER and two-timer (Top and he are in different fonts but is more nuanced and developed than Top due to screen time, anyway move on), gaslit Mew during their talk that even if they are both at fault Mew is the one who is extremely apologetic, has daddy issues that people can relate to, have extensive mommy issues that are left to be resolved but serve as way for the viewers excuse his behavior, has been given several breaking down scenes to fully sympathize with him no matter what happens

Tell me, based on what I wrote, who is the showrunner's favorite character/s? Tell me who is the character that is fully developed in the writing room? Raise your brows but I am letting this list speak for itself.

Ok, well I was bored and decided to take the mbti test for Miguel and Chico as a writing/characterisation exercise while I procrastinate on my fic and then Tumblr went ahead and 404ed so hard on my draft post that it straight up nuked all the shit I wrote.

SO NOW YOU KNOW I'M GOING TO DOUBLE DOWN AND BREAK DOWN THEIR PERSONALITY TYPES.

Just for reference, my MBTI personality type is INTP-T, so I am pretty confident that there is a minimal amount of “me” reflecting through in these results. Either way, they test results still merely reflect my own interpretations of Miguel and Chico’s character. I would be interested to see if someone else took the test for them and got differing results, but I'm sure this kind of personality test stuff is only the product of tonight's particular brain rot... probably not what most people want to spend their time figuring out.

Anyway, Miguel first! I feel like his test was harder for me to do because I wanted to consider how he might’ve been outside of Oz as well (considering that he is mostly in stress mode in Oz). Still, I feel like his result is pretty spot on with the way that I interpret him, especially with his dominant and inferior functions.

Note 1: I used 16Personalities to take the MBTI tests, but basically all the type profile that I quote below is from Personality Junkie Note 2: For the breakdowns, there will be a lot of acronyms. The way to read it is: in MBTI, there are 8 functions: Introverted/Extroverted Feeling (Fi/Fe), Thinking (Ti/Te), Intuition (Ni/Ne), and Sensing (Si/Se).

Miguel

Strengths: Strong practical skills, strong sense of duty, very loyal, sensitive, warm, good at connecting with others Weaknesses: Worried about their social status, inflexible, reluctant to innovate or improvise, vulnerable to criticism, often too needy, too selfless Stress triggers: being asked to compromise a value, being misunderstood or belittled by others, having too much conflict and not enough cooperation

Function Stack

Dominant: Extraverted Feeling (Fe)

Auxiliary: Introverted Sensing (Si)

Tertiary: Extraverted Intuition (Ne)

Inferior: Introverted Thinking (Ti)

Profile

ESFJs are warm, engaging, caring, loyal, dutiful, and hardworking. They are admired for their work ethic, perseverance, devotion, and steadfastness. They strive to practice what they preach, holding fast to their commitments and convictions. As predominant Judgers, they take their work, family, and social roles rather seriously.

While appearing outwardly confident and assertive, because their inner Judging function, Introverted Thinking (Ti), is inferior, ESFJs may feel they have relatively little inner control. By way of their Fe, ESFJs can befriend, persuade, and direct others. In so doing, ESFJs can reap the benefit of social support, as well as a sense of control and influence in the world of people. ESFJs’ auxiliary function, Introverted Sensing (Si), prompts them to keep one eye on the past and to preserve existing methods, traditions, and conventions.

ESFJs are Extraverted Judging types, quick to express their feelings, opinions, and grievances. This can be both a strength and a weakness. On the one hand, it contributes to ESFJs’ quick responsiveness and capacity for leadership. On the other, it can dispose them to judging prematurely or too severely. Fe imbues ESFJs with a desire to control or otherwise influence others. In the company of close confidants, however, they are more apt to share their negative emotions and grievances. And because their words are often bathed in emotion, ESFJs can seem intense or dramatic in their expressions. The dominant position of their Fe also makes ESFJs a proactive and highly intentional type. ESFJs tend to take themselves, their lives, and their endeavors quite seriously. They are efficient and task-oriented, quickly moving from one thing to the next.

ESFJs use Introverted Sensing (Si) as their auxiliary function. Si contributes to ESFJs’ propensity to function as conservators of the past. The more often ESFJs do something in a particular way the harder it is for them to break out of that pattern. The same can be said for their beliefs and worldview.

Since Ne is in the lower half of ESFJs’ function stack, they often have a love-hate relationship with it. On the one hand, they may fancy themselves clever, witty, creative, or savvy. The “hate” part of ESFJs’ relationship with their Ne can involve the way it injects uncertainty into their beliefs and worldview. ESFJs seek a firm and unambiguous worldview to base their lives on. And because abstract analysis is not their strong suit, wrestling with ideas that contradict their Si worldview can be unsettling.

Because Ti (introverted thinking) is inferior in their function stack, ESFJs don’t experience confidence in wielding Ti logic, finding it slippery, elusive, and ephemeral. Despite its elusiveness, ESFJs remain forever captivated by and in pursuit of their Ti. They intuitively understand that Ti is somehow important in their quest for personal wholeness. Therefore, ESFJs can be seen as striving for a greater sense of inner control and logical competence (Ti), which may lead them to view themselves as highly logical, independent, and self-sufficient. They may extol the virtues of independent thought or laud the value of cognitively managing ones owns thoughts and feelings. They may also fancy themselves as highly self-aware or “self-taught.” Some ESFJs may go so far as to consider themselves Introverts because of their desire for inner control or obsession with being logical. But just as other personality types misinterpret or overestimate the skills and know-how of their inferior function, so it is with ESFJs.

Chico

Strengths: Receptive, reliable, passionate, altruistic, charismatic, Weaknesses: Unrealistic, overly idealistic, condescending, intense, overly empathetic Stress triggers: people not open to change, routine, disorganization, conflict, confrontation, criticism, competitive situations and sudden change of plans.

Function Stack

Dominant: Extraverted Feeling (Fe)

Auxiliary: Introverted Intuition (Ni)

Tertiary: Extraverted Sensing (Se)

Inferior: Introverted Thinking (Ti)

Profile

The ENFJ is warm, engaging, charismatic, persuasive, and talkative. ENFJs can quickly read and establish rapport with others. Because of their love for people and formidable social intelligence, ENFJs develop extensive networks of friends, acquaintances, and social connections; they are networkers par excellence. ENFJs excel when it comes to reading people, quickly assessing and mirroring their emotions, expressions, and body language.

While “working a crowd” or charming an audience is undoubtedly invigorating for ENFJs, their desire to engage with people goes beyond mere superficials. Their auxiliary function, Introverted Intuition (Ni), adds a degree of depth that is less apparent in their ESFJ (Miguel!) counterparts. ENFJs see it as their job to help others live more authentically, ethically, and healthily. Although ENFJs certainly want to help and support others, their reasons for doing so are not always entirely altruistic. After all, as Fe types, their own sense of self is inextricably interwoven with that of others. So while ENFJs genuinely want those they help to succeed, if those individuals end up failing, the ENFJ may come down hard on them.

[The dominant Fe is similar to that of ESFJ’s, so I won’t repeat a lot of what is the same.]

While ENFJs are subtle and smooth in the public sphere, those who work with or have a closer relationship them will eventually see their more controlling or judgmental side. While Fe involves a penchant for maintaining interpersonal harmony and good feeling, this can be trumped by its commensurate desire for outer control and assertiveness. ENFJs are in many ways wired to express their feeling judgments as soon as they come about. This is obviously of great importance for their intimates to understand, recognizing that what comes out of the ENFJ’s mouth is often their first reaction, one they may later come to reverse upon further reflection (Ni).

Fe is more influenced by cultural norms and expectations than Fi is. ENFJs typically display ample warmth, friendliness, and congeniality in their interactions. While Fi types may disparage ENFJs as emotionally superficial or disingenuous, most ENFJs have good intentions of improving morale or finding consensus. Finally, the dominant position of their Fe, combined with their auxiliary Ni, makes ENFJs among the most consistently goal-oriented of all types. ENFJs tend to take themselves, their lives, and their endeavors quite seriously.

ENFJs Judge before they Perceive. In many cases, it is only after making an upfront judgment by way of their Fe that they open themselves to alternative perspectives presented by their auxiliary function, Introverted Intuition (Ni). As Fe dominants, ENFJs are first and foremost concerned with shaping what is happening in the immediate social environment (Fe). They want to ensure that good feelings are maintained or to accomplish whatever social objective they have in mind (e.g., teaching, advising, motivating, etc.). For ENFJs, Ni concerns take a backseat to Fe. ENFJs are more likely to take an “ends justifies the means” approach. In order to accomplish their J agenda, ENFJs may be willing to say or withhold things that would not sit right with their INFJ counterparts. They may also be more willing to feign happiness. ENFJs might reason, even if unwittingly, that if good feelings can be cultivated out there (Fe), then a sense of inner happiness will likely emerge in due time.

Extraverted Sensing (Se) serves as ENFJs’ tertiary function. While Si (Miguel!) involves an intensive connection to the remembered past, Se is more extensive and present-oriented. It amasses concrete details and sensory information from the environment by way of the five senses (i.e., sight, smell, touch, sound, and taste). Unlike Si, Se is not content with the routine and familiar. Rather, it seeks sensory and material novelty. Se types love novel sensations and appearances, physical thrills, and material comforts. They are more liberal than Si types in their approach to and use of the material world. Se can also be linked with a concern for beauty and aesthetics (especially in Feeling types). ENFJs often have refined tastes when it comes to their material surroundings, their physical appearance, as well as their palate.

[The inferior Ti is similar to that of ESFJ’s so I won’t repeat what is the same]

However elusive their Ti, ENFJs are still captivated by it (as all types are with their inferior). In many ways, Ti represents a source of wholeness and self-actualization for ENFJs. Since Ti and Fe comprise a functional whole, they intuitively realize the importance of integrating these two functions for them to feel whole and complete. Consequently, ENFJs can be seen as striving for a greater sense of inner control and logical competence (Ti), which is why they may exhibit some of the same interests or self-conceptions as INTPs. Since ENFJs are ultimately unsure of the soundness of their own logic (Ti), they may unwittingly try to convince themselves through the act of convincing others. The more people they can convince that an idea is sound (Fe), the more confident they hope to feel about its veracity (Ti).

ESFJ & ENFJ Differences, Final Thoughts

Reminder: Miguel = ESFJ, Chico = ENFJ

Key differences

ESFJs Thrive on Stability; They like getting into a steady routine and immersing themselves in a community. They are usually the types who find a “home” and enjoy staying there and coming back to it repeatedly. They enjoy creating a comfortable base where they can re-charge. Living a transient life is usually stressful for an ESFJ personality type.

ENFJs Thrive on Change. While they enjoy having a structure and plan for their lives, a repetitive routine feels lacking in inspiration for them. ENFJs want a clear plan, structure, and direction. But they can quickly tire of staying in one place.

ESFJs Look for Certainties. ENFJs Look for Unknowns and are apt to notice what isn’t trustworthy or provable

ESFJs Enjoy Reminiscing and Recalling. ENFJs Enjoy Envisioning the Future.

ESFJs tend to speak using literal language, describing things as they experienced them in detail. They also tend to speak in a linear way, from beginning to end. ENFJs, in contrast, tend to use a lot of metaphor and analogy when they speak.

When stressed or hurried, ESFJs can start to catastrophize or develop unrealistic expectations or possibilities; ENFJs can become more focused on experience and become overly-impulsive and focused on action at the expense of analyzing implications

My Final Thoughts (not quoting anything now)

I think in terms of how I view/characterize/write the characters, the personality type results really match. I think the differences in the way that their dominant extraverted feeling and inferior introverted thinking function comes out to play is especially accurate to how I see both characters. Chico being the “Protagonist” personality type is funny to me because I feel like we’ve joked before on here that he thinks he’s the protagonist even though he’s a total side character. I do think that Chico exhibits leadership qualities and he is probably like more of a glue that holds El Norte together as the 2iC throughout the leadership changes. I’ve always read Chico as trying to lead not from the top but from near the top. It’s not that he couldn’t lead but that he thinks his purpose to to maintain the structure of the community, effectively allowing him to help run things in a sideways sort of way. The key to him is that he is helping run things—that his support is critical.

I also think Miguel’s combo of traits show a lot in the way he cycles up and down through canon. Inflexibility is definitely one of his weaknesses, as well as concrete thinking. Overall, I feel like there were definitely places throughout both profiles where I was like “lol, yeah, that’s definitely them during XYZ in the show”.

In terms of compatibility, I think their types make sense. When they get along, they can really get along because they have a lot of commonalities in terms of how they interact with other people and also how they approach their goals. They're both sociable and they both value their relationships. If they're playing nice, then at worst, they have nonstop banter. Out of their strengths, Miguel's type would bring warmth and connection that Chico would appreciate. Chico's type has the strength in being receptive that would complement Miguel's weaknesses, and reliability would be appreciated by Miguel's type as well.

But at the same time, their sensing and intuition are flipped, so they could easily be at each other’s throats and squabble about everything, as sensing/intuition goes back to how they view the world and (concrete vs abstract, big picture vs details) and plays into their respective weaknesses of inflexibility/worried about social status (Miguel) and unrealistic/overly idealistic (Chico). Their types could easily get frustrated with each other, find each other annoying and dismissive, etc, and never see eye-to-eye. I also think their respective weaknesses and strengths could feed into a toxic cycle, too.

hi reze pls tell me all abt ur ocs!!! mama and kuro are high in my list of enstar faves so ofc i want to know abt their sisters!! plus i wanna know abt your self insert too + whatever else abt any oc pleek 🧎🏽‍♀️🧎🏽‍♀️🫶

kjfhdskfjdwh lee <3 you're just enabling me atp... but i'm not complaining!

anyways!

mikejima miyuki aka "miyu". she/they. 17 years old.

miyuki is written as 瑞希. 瑞 means "auspicious, omen" and 希 means "hope". it’s kind of ironic because madara always called her his good luck charm and they’re the reason he got kicked out of the family, however indirectly. (also, funnily enough, madara’s first name 斑 means “spots, freckles”. his name is practically meaningless whilst miyuki’s is chock-full of meaning). i like alliteration.

she's a sick kid (chronic illness: she has severe asthma) with a terrible relationship with her family overall. her parents are firm believers of the shinkai cult, but they aren't because of experiences in her childhood (remember when mama made his wish to try and heal her? yeah well... it didn't work and now they're disillusioned). her parents are pretty neglectful too, and she's also estranged from their brother who was out of the country a lot, so she's practically raised herself from childhood. despite all that, she still loves their brother very much and sends him anonymous fan mail, as well as diligently following his idol career and collecting all his merch.

her dream is to go into veterinary sciences. when she was younger, mama used to help them find good online courses to study since she couldn't leave the house. now they’re completing online college courses as a child genius, because she was bored a lot as a child and ended up falling down a lot of online rabbit holes. they’re technically enrolled in the same school as aoi but she never shows up on virtue of being a sickly child.

kiryu aoi. she/her. 16 years old.

aoi is written as 碧海, which is typically a boy’s name but to be fair, her parents were expecting a second son and planned accordingly. she doesn’t care as much as she used to, because it’s a connection to her family. 碧 means “blue” and 海 means “ocean, sea”. she directly contrasts her brother (the 紅 in kuro means “crimson”, and his name translates overall as “crimson moon”)

she wants to be a makeup artist when she grows up, and she practices on her brother. he doesn’t mind though, because he likes being close to her. during kuro’s delinquent years, aoi was prone to panic attacks and had many anxiety-fueled breakdowns, which made her an easy target for bullies. she was ostracised by her schoolmates for living in a “broken household” and as a result she ended up developing a snappish demeanour when around people. this is something kuro still feels guilty about, even now, because he should have been protecting her but instead he only contributed to her pain.

she’s akatsuki’s biggest fan, and she shows up to all their concerts. she’s also a secret kagamiP as well as a crazy:bP, much to kuro’s chagrin. she has a one-sided academic rivalry going on with miyuki, who is effortlessly at the top of the class, which irks aoi to no end. she’s on a lot of online forums, where she defends kuro endlessly to weirdos on the ‘net. she’s also in a lot of ensquare forums because she enjoys reading the conspiracy theories. she’s pretty much a normal girl in a normal situation.

shimizu kagami. aka “M1RROR”. they/he/she. 19 years old.

shimizu is written as 清水, and means “pure water”. kagami is written as 鏡, and means “mirror”. kagami is not their real name! it’s actually fuyuko, written as 冬子 which means “winter child”. kagami picked his name as a tribute to a friend, whose name was fuyumi, written as 冬美 which means “winter beauty”.

kagami used to be part of a childhood idol duo with fuyumi, they were called Snow2Flake. but the pressure of idol life, as well all the stress of eyes watching your every move, got to be too much which caused fuyumi to commit suicide, leaving kagami devastated. kagami took a long hiatus, before returning as an idol to fulfil fuyumi’s dream. she chose the moniker “M1RROR” and the name kagami because fuyuko was supposed to be fuyumi’s reflection when they were together. their goal as an idol is to spread the message “you are not alone”, to let people know that they are not unique in their struggles.

M1RROR is a solo idol unit that is a part of rhythm link association. kagami commonly appears on talk shows and is seen doing collaborations with other units. she is a flexible and versatile idol, known for their skill in adapting to any theme or job. however, they struggled with his gender presentation, especially what was deemed “acceptable” for idols during that time. in the end, after much soul searching, she simply decided to do whatever and live his life the way they wanted to.

reze. they/them. 16 years old.

reze, written as レゼ, which has no meaning. they are just “reze”. no last name, they are simply the p-association’s overworked secretary.

reze works a lot with anzu, and the two have a close friendship. despite being surrounded by cute idols 24/7, reze would prefer to be able to stay at home all day eating instant ramen. they are in charge of pr, which makes them want to tear their hair out. they manage majority of es’ social media, including the unit accounts. they’re supposed to make sure that the public image of all units, as well as es, remains squeaky clean. they are on the verge of putting out a hit on tenshouin eichi.

reze studied at yumenosaki, though they graduated from the general course. before anzu joined, the older students used reze as a personal secretary, much to their chagrin. reze is well-acquainted with sagami-sensei’s office, due to collapsing from overwork numerous times. reze is the oldest of four, all girls, and has a pet dog named mimi. reze’s apartment happens to contain a spare room, which has been used by many an idol in need. hence, reze makes sure that their guest room is always some degree of liveable.

Thank you to everyone that informed me that the fluctuation of my brain function is obvious. I remain shaking off the terror that I won't be able to communicate who I am and what I know well enough, especially to people who have never gotten to see me access Me, but the commentary provides a basis for me to have begun making monumental progress on that front.

I realised for the first time—I wanted to say last night but let's say recently—that my brain had/has the information (non-visual) equivalent of photographic memory. I also realised recently that my nervous system breakdown actually began reaching a head as young as 9, or 10. I remembered this always; I loved to climb, and parkour, and I never had the chance to get fancy with it between people preventing me, punishing me, and then my disabilities. I've always cared about my appearance and if I had it my way I would always be extremely well dressed, though don't mistake me for someone who believes that everybody should be, or that there's only one way to be well dressed—I'm no fool.

Subsequently the loss of access to my brain function, and then my body, and then my capacity to present myself how I want in spite of that, being forced to look pathetic, to not phrase things nearly as well as I've been carefully shaping them in my head for well over a decade, hurts.

I've been on a long, painful journey to mitigate damage, repair it, and grow too. And it's exhausting, and everything has been taken from me but still I get up, still I crawl forward, still my life improves...

I re-define and re-create and re-define myself again to live; in search of the man the suffering sought to burry, to be able to see the man that refused to die myself.

And in the mirror I find him, but still don't fully understand him.

I only know that the light behind his eyes continues to be a lot of work to keep alight. And it's wretched work, so I persist by not doing it for me.

It's all I can do to hope that this great difficulty is seen.

For all the times they (whomever is relevant; dozens directly at least none of whom I could name) programmed me to hide my light, things like viciously punishing me for being brilliant or properly attentive or fast or strong or able to jump at all when such a thing could only be accessed once a month, not allowing me to be ill the rest of it because they didn't understand. Yelling, startling, criticising immediately and interrupting whenever I was too slow at learning anything, like cutting meat and vegetables for the first time until I fumble in panic every time, so I could never learn, and, embarrassed, had to learn "basic skills" at an age I'd often be ridiculed and hassled for not knowing yet, despite never being afforded the chance.

Program: Never show them; it's not worth torture. Don't say or do anything where you can be seen. Hide what you don't know. Don't ask for lessons, not directly. Figure it out, somehow, some way. We can't afford the sanity cost; they won't teach us anyway, they either don't know or aren't kind or patient enough or can't phrase it in a way that we can understand.

It's painful, this fluctuation, for so many reasons. I can share this program only because I'm at the tail end of ripping it out of my system. It'll seem profound still, but that's only because you can't see how far I've come.

I didn't used to speak at all.

To anyone.

About anything.

But by taking the time to see me, to understand me, to not hurt me but to ask questions instead, to give me the room to elaborate instead of spiraling and taking it out on me; you offer me the door to exiting this one, this spiral, that I fell in to far too young.

Thank you again for your honesty, even when it hurts. It's all I've ever wanted.

And, I learn what I do, take the time to learn to speak it, to be able to share it, because I know though the severity of what I've been through is highly unusual, I am far from alone.

And I'll be damned if I've come this far and not contribute my hand to seeing the day that nobody has to suffer like I did again.

But the first step of that, for me, despite my wishes, remains learning to take care of myself, be kind to myself.

And your awareness, and your honesty, and your wisdom, and your intelligence, and what you've learned, and the art you make, and the voice you speak with, and the perspective you hold, the ideas you've found and built, all of it helps me persist, is how I can find a way to survive despite everything.

You give me the motivation and the tools to be alive. You give me hope that I'll be alright. And, I don't feel very alive right now, but I know in a year I'll be a new man.

And I will make You proud.

*You = my friends, kind honest strangers, the strangers I have taught and will teach and continue to learn from, the Earth Herself, the human collective.

Vertigo

Chapter 2: Going Out

Table of Contents

 Yoongi is stuck. 

He hasn’t told the managing team of the newly debuted boy group he was supposedly contributing to for their first EP about his predicament. All he’s been able to come up with are random sounds that even a toddler could make whilst having a tantrum.

It’s not like he’s slacking. He’s basically locked himself in his studio and isolated himself from all his family and friends, putting his phone on perpetual silent mode. He promised himself he wasn’t leaving the studio until he could give them at least one song. Then he bargained again when it took him a week to even decide on which instruments to use. Okay, he thought. I won’t go out until I at least have a verse and a chorus. 

When still, no amount of self-persuasion brought him closer to creating anything, he’s final plea was to at least to come up with a hook. It doesn’t have to be long. Just something to start with. A spark to light up the whole thing. 

He’s barely slept and probably has more caffeine in his bloodstream than actual white and red blood cells to keep him going. He’s washed his face raw from all those nights forcing himself to awake. He’s gone through several hoodies and shirts, his laundry barely piling up because he doesn’t change much. He’s confused days and times as they melt into each other. Burning away like a kerosene lamp. Burning away his time. The deadline coming up to him with its out stretched claws. 

It wasn’t always this hard. It’s never been this hard. He’s always poured out music like an exhale, found beats that were just as natural as his own pulse. 

When his world turned upside down four years ago, he feared for his craft. He thought then, broken hearted and vulnerable, he would have no motivation to keep going. That the loss would consume him and nothing else mattered. It did consume him but it also fueled him and he had never been more productive in his life. He may have worked himself out a little too much but it validated the pain he felt inside. His actual tired body holding hands with the regret, the disappointment, and the feelings of betrayal. Then, he would be too tired to think. It was the perfect set-up. 

Now that the pain has subsided to a numbness, Yoongi is also void of any sort of inspiration. He should’ve known, anyways. Life’s been warning him that all good things come to an end. When there’s is an up, there is a down and the higher you go, the farther you fall. The brighter the lights, the darker the shadows. 

He’s rummaged through all kinds of sounds he’s saved in his library, tinkered with the many pianos and guitars he owns. He stopped learning how to play the drums awhile back but he reached for it in desperation. He even tried to create his own sounds with the random things in his house, which may have been the mistake as to why his mixes are sounding more like kindergarten than someone who’s been producing for almost half of his life. He’s tried listening to other music, toying around with their sounds hoping inspiration would come to him but nothing. He’s going insane. 

He lets out a loud curse. He stands abruptly from his chair, which causes it to roll away and crash against his coffee table. He paces around his studio. Hands twisting at his hair. He needs to get out now. Besides, if there’s one thing Yoongi has learned is that promises are really there for breaking. 

꩜꩜꩜

Jimin’s feeling much better now, thank you very much. 

Of course the breakdown was expected and of course he needed to talk to his mom again before he braved this new world even though technically, he’s been here. Not here here. Jimin’s family used to live in Busan and he had only taken trips to Seoul every now and then. Trips he can’t even remember. But Jimin’s not quite ready for his hometown yet. Baby steps. One insane decision at a time. He’s not trying to unravel years of underlying issues. He can do that in class. In the safety of his professors’ presence where unearthing his past would just be another requirement he’d get an A in. 

He had graduated from a business course in the hopes of catching a lot of cash. Grabbing at the kind of life his younger self had always dreamed of. It worked for awhile. He got the cash. He helped out his family but he was still empty. Still lost. Still feeling like something was missing until those feelings turned into resentment and then utter suffering at having to wake up another day to a job who kept telling him he was easily replaceable. That no matter his honors and the hours he rendered, he was just another pawn on the chessboard. It was dehumanizing.

So, he sought for something human. Something more kind and maybe, he could hit two birds with one stone and learn to be kind to himself. He had applied to several schools but the one he had chosen was a master’s in art psychological counseling at Yonsei University. He had other choices but this one had offered him full scholarship as long as he kept his grades up, which wasn’t a problem because Jimin lived all his life as a goody two shoes, top of the class, teacher’s pet. He’d like to say he’s smart, that’s how he does well in school, but he’s not. He just works really hard and has ingrained into his mind that getting good grades was the only thing he could do to give back to his mother.

That was then. He eventually was able to actually pay her back, with actual monetary value although, she shied away from it every time. Her love language was never gifts but Jimin wanted her to experience all the love languages. But now that he’s accomplished that, he wonders if he would still feel the same. Would he have the same motivation? Would he be the same boy who graduated from college with latin honors? Or would that also turn dim like so many of the shining stars Jimin used to believe mattered. 

He takes in the scenery, the perfectly manicured lawns. The shrubs cut in precision, each one looking exactly the same as the others. He stares up at the school’s exterior, stoned buildings with the garden shamelessly consuming it like it’s their territory. Jimin thinks it looks romantic, like it could be a castle in some far off land. He’s seen the photos but they don’t do it justice. You have to actually see the light of the sun reflect on the windows and the dew on the leaves, smell fresh air as if the school wasn’t part of the bustling city of Seoul. Even the wind feels different, like it has small sparkles being carried with it. 

Jimin thought it would be harder, knowing he’s practically abandoned the language he was born into, but it comes to him like little hiccups. He’d say it’s like riding a bike but it’s a bit more rocky than that, like he knows he can balance the bike, he just keeps jiggling. He can pick most of the words he hears from the chatter of the students and some school staff as he wanders through the campus a whole two hours before his orientation. He’s gotten by with the simple thank yous and excuse mes he’s had to use while commuting around but he knows it’s not enough. At some point, he has to converse. Even worse, his classes are in Korean. He knew that, coming into this but it doesn’t make it less daunting. One insane decision at a time.

He takes a deep breath. He’s psyching himself out. Orientation first, he thinks, then we’ll panic later. 

꩜꩜꩜

Jimin’s seated at the aisle, closer to the exit than he had intended. He wanted to sit closer, a better view, like he always does for any class back in the Philippines. Even for his driving school he had sat front and center, taking advantage of the hard earned money used to pay for whatever classes. But this time, his fears take over. He’s scared that the speaker might go around, look at their faces, and what if he gets called? He hasn’t the right words nor the proper language for it yet. So as much as he would like to take advantage of this orientation, he sits, at the back, pen and paper out. 

They’re half way through discussing the different requirements needed to graduate when someone blocks his view, trying to fit himself beside Jimin. He had put his bag there since no one had sat there as the room was getting filled and now he hastily tries to pick up all his stuff, some of if it falling to the floor. Whoever this was did not have the courtesy to say excuse me or be on time, but thought to help pick up the falling items which only led to them bumping their head on Jimin’s.

“Ow!” 

Jimin sits up and rubs his head, grimacing. The other boy finally unfolds himself, holding Jimin’s notebook. This school must actually be from a fairytale story because his seatmate looks like a prince with his blonde wavy hair cascading on his face like dominoes. Jimin closes his mouth, he didn’t even realize it was open and rips his gaze away from the boy, who, Jimin thinks is speaking to him in his low voice. 

Jimin looks at him again and the boy simply smiles. He looks like he could be Jimin’s age but you could never tell with asians. Jimin purses his lips and looks down, trying to adjust to his new position, holding his bag on his lap and his notebook and pen on top of it. He checks inside his bag if there were any missing items and he hears the boy speak again.

For some reason, Jimin knows it’s Korean but he doesn’t understand a single thing. It only makes him panic. Did he just lose all his knowledge of the language in bumping his head. He’s tempted to start yelling at the beautiful boy to give it back, give Jimin back his very limited knowledge of Korean, he needs it, when said boy waves a hand in front of his face.

He asks if Jimin is okay. That he knows.

He replies in English, convinced he’s really lost it all from that little bump in the head. 

“I’m sorry…uhm…I’m bad at Korean…,” he says sheepishly. Time was up. It was a short lived ruse that Jimin could pull this off without having to admit his inadequacy. He’ll just have to study even harder now so he never has to admit this ever again, to anyone. 

“Oh, sorry, I was saying sorry for the mess…” He gestures around himself and at Jimin’s bag. He speaks to Jimin in English but it has a sort of parisian accent to it. He can’t be sure because he’s only heard Americans speak in a parisian accent. He wonders where this boy is actually from. 

“I’m Kim Taehyung and you?”

“Jimin…uh…Park Jimin.”

“I like that.” Taehyung nods to himself and the makes finger guns, “it’s like Bond James Bond.”

“Oh it’s just Park Jimin.” Jimin wants to curl in on himself. He’s not used to do this. In fact, he hates this. Not just because in the Philippines you don’t say your last name before your first name, but because that last name, he hasn’t used it in a long time. Apart from government documents, Jimin’s being using Lawrence’s last name because it was easier for people to address him with Garcia rather than a location. It didn’t really matter what his first name was after that. Filipinos had all kinds of unique names: Jonick, Junun, Jomar, Jonnel. But that one word, one name, gave people less questions to ask Jimin, especially when they saw their family all together. 

Taehyung tilts his head slightly, his eyes wide, and mouth set into a pout. He could hear his question and he knows he’s just debating whether or not ask it. If it would be impolite to. 

“I’m Korean.” Jimin nervously laughs and bring his attention back to the orientation hoping Taehyung would move on and find someone else to both, maybe the girl beside him. She looks like she wants to be bothered and put on the spot. Jimin’s barely been here and all his false pretenses are starting to crumble. He is grateful he found someone who could speak English with but he doesn’t really want to have to explain why a Korean doesn’t speak Korean. He wants to put on another mask of belonging just like he did with Lawrence’s last name. 

“Do you have any plans tonight?”

Jimin is surprised he almost breaks his neck as he turns to Taehyung. That was not what Jimin was expecting. So far from it that he doesn’t even know how Taehyung got from one topic to the other or he simply doesn’t care about the new information he’s gathered from Jimin. But he does care enough to want to know more. 

“Why?” Jimin asks suspiciously. 

“Me and a bunch of my friends are going to see that new bar near Gangnam, you should come.”

Jimin just gapes up at him. 

Taehyung starts typing on his phone and then says, “I’ll send you the address. Do you have KakaoTalk? You should pro-”

“I don’t even know you…”

“So?” Taehyung finally looks at him with a dazzling smile, all of his pretty teeth out for him. Jimin doesn’t have an answer. This was an opportunity, wasn’t it? This is the kind of thing he said he was going to do like go to some place he’s never been as recommended by a complete stranger who he doesn’t even know if is actually a student in this school. 

And if he gets murdered? 

[Next Chapter]

You know, when Ladybug was giving Miraculous temporarily to people, no one made comments such as “She should consult Chat Noir beforehand”. Though we did got “Chat Noir should be giving Miraculous to people too!” while in canon, what CN did mind was to be left completely in the dark about what was going on, not the fact he couldn’t partake in the decisions nor the selection of potential candidates. Because the powers and the people LB selects are part of LB’s plan to defeat the Akumatized villains. 

But when Ladybug decides to give the Fox Miraculous permanently to Alya so she can be Marinette’s backup ressource, there are people upset she didn’t meet with Chat Noir and discuss about that decision with him? 

Like what changed?

I do agree we are heading toward an episode similar to Syren if Ladybug still keeps Chat Noir too much in the dark again that makes him feel useless or question his presence in the team. But that people get mad on Chat Noir stead for not being “consulted” on a decision that has always been up to LB? Especially that she is now the official Guardian and Chat Noir respects and follows her lead and convulated plans? 

Even when, during Miraculer, when CN saw that Chloé was still lighting her Bee Signal and realized that LB didn’t yet take the time to tell Chloé the truth, Chat Noir just reminder LB to go talk to Chloé instead of offering to go in LB’s place. Why? Because it is LB’s role.

Even when, during Furious Fu, Chat Noir tells Ladybug he will accept to give back his Miraculous if only Ladybug decided so because she is the only Guardian in his eyes? Because he trusts her?

I mean, Chat Noir isn’t oblivious either. He notices things too. He has his own point of view and LB usually listens to him. And Chat is usually open to express himself unless he has been hurt. That’s when he shuts down. But otherwise? He supports LB however he can contribute. 

All that to say that at the end of Optigami, when CN asked LB how she knew there was a sentimonster hidden inside the Miraculous, LB answered him:

“Thanks to my Lucky Charm, Kitty. It always shows me the right way, but this time, I was shortly led astray”.

And you see his reaction. 

He gets serious. He doesn’t say anything yet, but mentally seems to take notes.

That day, Chat Noir wasn’t able to be much by her side or so he thinks, but that doesn’t mean he cannot be the support LB needs. If Chat Noir sees Ladybug be led astray again during one of their missions, Chat Noir will remind her and raise a flag. 

Because he has the knowledge and power to do so. He has the objectivity precisely because he isn’t personally involved. Because he knows they need a focused Ladybug to succeed. Whereas all the temporary Holders are “sidekicks” who follow LB’s lead and authority. Including Alya. Heck she has tried to take some initiative and regretted it because it almost lead the Bad Guys to know Ladybug’s secret identity. So chances are very high Rena will just stick to LB’s plans because she doesn’t want to put her best friend in danger again. Whereas Chat Noir is more at ease to propose things and work with and around LB’s plan so she can succeed.

Anyway, even if Chat Noir knew about the whole Ladybug and Rena Rouge ordeal at this point, even if Ladybug did ask him what he thinks about it, I wonder if really Chat Noir’s opinion would have mattered in the balance. I assume it would have ended like how LB didn’t understood what her Lucky Charm was trying to warn her about until the very last minute. 

It was fitting Ladybug was fused into Lady Bee for this episode. Because the Bee Miraculous is used by someone who can defy authority. And that was what Lady Bee was doing. Defying the omniscient guidance of her Lucky Charm. It is only when Ladybug was back as herself that she questions why her Lucky Charm didn’t have any use to defeat the supervillain this time around. 

Anyway, is Marinette making the wrong decision by permanently giving Alya the Fox Miraculous? I think Trixx did point out the issue.

“See? I am right, even if I am not”.

Marinette knows who to trust, however like any human, her biases, her emotions and traumas can cloud her decisions. We want to believe every character and person will react logically to a situation they are personally living. Spoilers alert, unless they are a machine or from a race that has no emotion, they won’t. And Marinette is mentally recovering from a severe breakdown. And who ended up being her life raft during that difficult period? Alya. 

Marinette does have a point. She needs someone who can be her backup when she is unable to transform. She cannot always count on the Kwamis since their respective power comes with a chaotic aftermath. She can be in a position where she thinks it isn’t safe to transform. 

She has Chat Noir who can stall the villain and buy time but it is only if he manages to be there on time too. And after witnessing the Chat Blanc timeline, Ladybug is avoiding as much as she can to trigger it back. Adrien discovering her secret identity was one piece, but there was another piece concerning Chat Noir and her and that is was she is afraid of and that concerned their secret identity that was later found out and used by Hawk Moth to akumatize Chat Noir.

And then, there is Alya to whom Marinette revealed herself when she was at her lowest and who have been nothing but helpful ever since. Alya is now so much involved with Marinette either as a superhero or a civilian. And Marinette relies on Alya. And now, it looks Marinette is starting to depend on her maybe too much that it will affect Alya in a way she is unprepared for. I’ll keep an eye on Alya’s relationship with Nino. It sure did shake her to find out she had been fooled by SM and that she didn’t realized the being in front of her wasn’t the real Nino. 

Alya is a good and trustworthy ally. She does learn from her mistake and works to do better, but I agree Marinette didn’t seem to have made the most enlightened decision there and Chat Noir’s opinion would probably have changed nothing. 

By wanting to be relieved and have someone to back her up, I think Marinette is not clearly seeing the burden she is imposing on Alya. 

Btw, I am personally presuming that even if Alya could transform at any given opportunity now, it doesn’t mean Rena Rouge will be present all the time on the team during patrols or Akuma attacks. Rena Rouge would still be on-call when the power or Illusion is needed. Like how she had access to the Miracle Box, but still waited for Marinette’s instructions. 

Still, i wonder how much time it will take for Chat Noir to point out LB is maybe relying too much on Rena Rouge and putting her in danger more than necessary.

The Cybertronian Class System in Transformers Prime

We know very well about the class system in IDW Transformers and how that contributed to the societal tensions that led to the rise of the Decepticon movement, but what about the Aligned Continuity? 

Novel: Exodus 

We know there is a dual caste and guild system in place. 

The caste system referenced in Exodus is directly stated to be determined through a process in which a new spark is encouraged to take its most natural alt-mode form as soon as it is able. The alt-mode is then used to rank them in society. 

Guilds are less well defined, but appear to be structured around further classification of bots by their relative position within their caste. 

The scientific/academic guilds are stated to be of a very high rank, whereas labourers and manual workers are towards the lowest rank. 

There isn’t much more detail than that, so that is almost all of the information we have to work off of in terms of the TFP Cybertronian social structure.

However, it is worth noting that Functionism in the IDW Transformers comics was developed prior to TFP’s writing, and TFP borrowed the concept of alt-mode determination from the comics. So we can assume that many elements of Functionism are shared one to one between these continuities, although the Functionist Council does not exist in the Aligned Continuity. 

Interestingly, Megatron and the beginning of his social revolutionary efforts are based around the same similar initial core beliefs in both IDW and TFP:

I talk more about how class differences between Orion Pax and Megatronus are largely what caused the war in TFP in this post. 

TFP: Deus Ex Machina 

The episode opens with Miko in trouble at school, when she is picked up by Bulkhead after detention is over. He takes her back to base, and they have a discussion about Miko’s future.

Here’s the relevant dialogue: 

Bulkhead: “Look, Miko. Before I became a warrior, I was a labourer. Construction. I can build stuff, I can break stuff. And that’s it!”

Miko: “I love breaking stuff! I wanna be just like you, Bulk.”

Bulkhead: “Ugh... Why would you wanna be like me, when you could be a... A medic, like Ratchet!”

Two things here stick out to me, the first being that Bulkhead thinks very little of himself, and has class related trauma that likely resulted in his generally low self-esteem. He always claims he isn’t smart, isn’t clever, and so on. But building and construction takes significant skill and knowledge on a material and conceptual level. 

The second thing is that he immediately jumps to using Ratchet as an example of what Miko should aspire to be. Ratchet, of course, is a medic-- Remember the guild system in TFP, where scientific class bots were deemed amongst the highest in social capital and relative value. 

The Wreckers and the Class System

I get the feeling this is why Wheeljack doesn’t like Ratchet very much (at least at first), and why Wheeljack resists Ultra Magnus outright. They are both higher class/upper guild bots who would have been a part of the system that likely kept Wheeljack down. 

We don’t know what Wheeljack’s background is in TFP, other than the fact that he’s a Wrecker, but I get the feeling that the reason why he’s not first and foremost a scientist/engineer in this continuity is because he was likely prevented from joining the scientific guild because he was ranked into a lower class due to his natural alt-mode. 

There’s nothing that supports that in canon, but it makes a lot of sense. 

We also know that Bulkhead and Breakdown know each other, and we don’t have all the details there, but it seems likely their relationship to each other may pre-date the factional divide and they may have been from the same class/caste or guild. 

TFP: One Shall Fall 

The episode opens with the kids erasing photos of Bumblebee from the internet; Infamously, this leads to Jack asking Optimus if he wants to see the cat gif that made Ratchet laugh, to which Optimus replies with a flat no. 

This leads Ratchet to mention that Optimus wasn’t always like this, and he was very different before becoming a Prime, leading to the following dialogue: 

Raf: “Optimus wasn’t always a Prime?”

Ratchet: “On Cybertron, one isn’t born into greatness; Rather, one must earn it.”

I think it’s interesting that as he says this, he takes the posture above: Looking up, even though the kids are all far below his line of sight and off to the opposite side of his gaze here. Like he’s repeating it from memory. And that’s possibly exactly what this is; He’s repeating what he was always told. 

Of course, that statement contradicts nearly everything we know to be factual about Cybertronian culture, but it makes sense from Ratchet’s point of view.

We know Ratchet is old, walked across the Cybertronian continent to reach Iacon to study and train as a medic under Remedy, who was the CMO in Iacon at that time. 

Ratchet, while his spark originated in an undeveloped village, had to travel and work hard to become a medic. 

What he doesn’t seem to grasp, is that he’s quite possibly old enough to pre-date the caste and guild system on Cybertron. 

While we don’t have any definite dates, we do have eras for Cybertronian civilisation which I explore further in this post, and it is entirely possible Ratchet simply became a medic before he would have been defined by his alt-mode. Or perhaps his alt-mode was always some kind of Cybertronian ambulance, and it didn’t make any difference in his case because he wanted to become a medic anyway. 

It’s easy to see why his attitude might grate on bots like Wheeljack or Bulkhead; He’s either very old or very lucky or both, and while from his own POV he did have to earn his place to study in Iacon by way of having to get there first and prove his potential, that is a very far cry from experiencing systemic oppression. 

In Pre-War Cybertron, Ratchet had social privilege above every other Autobot we see in TFP.

I think in light of that, it’s very interesting that he yearns for Cybertron so severely. We know Ratchet cares about others and would not have supported the Functionist society if only because he feels all bots should have equal access to healthcare and a right to be well. 

But we also know he wants Cybertron restored, so much so that the destruction of the Omega Lock nearly causes him to collapse. (I might talk about that scene in a future post, too.) 

What we don’t know, is what Ratchet’s vision for an idealised, restored Post-War Cybertron actually is. 

Do I think Ratchet is a Functionist? No. He cares about his people, and believes in the Autobot key tenant that all bots are autonomous and should have the right to individual choice. (Something Megatron also believes, or believed in the beginning-- He is the one who first put the thought into Orion Pax’s mind.) 

But do I think that Ratchet has been heavily indoctrinated by Functionist beliefs due to his long-standing high ranking position in an intensely classist society? Yes. And I think he’s repeating something that used to be said in his pre-war social circle in the scene above, because surely, he knows better. 

don’t you think that todoroki is a bit weak, especially since he’s been training all his life? i mean, he got folded during his round in the JTA arc and he doesn’t compete AT ALL with bakugou and deku 

What a shitty bait, but fine, I’ll bite, because I do see these moronic takes from time to time. Way to miss the entire point of Shouto’s arc, dear anon. 

Look up any number of articles that talk about pushing children way too young and way too hard in sports and you will find that it will cause severe emotional, psychological and physical consequences. 

For Shouto, his “trainer” was his abusive, asshole father, who made him HATE his fire so much, he even refused to use it for YEARS - making him completely one-sided: a pro-hero level competence with his ice, and a beginner with severe psychological issues with his fire. Like Shouto explains again and again, switching to both sides, not only requires him to add his left, but to DECONSTRUCT moves that have become autopilot due to excessive training. 

Not to mention, Shouto grew up with no childhood, no mom, no emotional support, no agency, lost a brother - all of this connected to his fire - don’t you think this level of trauma maybe, kind of holds him back somewhat and is its own obstacle to overcome? And just because the obstacle is mental, it is no less hard and no less painful than classmates who can progress just by lifting weights or doing pushups or whatever...

If anything, it shows that all the training Endeavor put Shouto through his childhood didn’t even give him advantage beyond the first few months of school. Because the others, with age-appropriate and non-abusive training methods can and do catch up. 

Calling Shouto weak singling out the JTA is like calling Bakugou weak just based on the Moonfish fight. Shouto did not get FOLDED in the JTA - read the chapter again or watch the anime and notice what happens:

(1) I don’t know remember Bakugou and Deku or anyone else on that battle field walking into a low-stakes class, mere days after their father almost dies on national TV and being triggered into a PTSD episode even before the fight starts - so let’s not pretend that they are remotely in the same situation as Shouto, but still:

(2) At the beginning of the fight, it takes Honenuki’s softening + Pony’s horns + Tetsu’s steel combined to counter Shouto’s ice attack (we already know fire would have been better, but we also know the reason why he used ice)

(3) Tetsu’s quirk is a perfect counter to Shouto’s half-cold half-hot, and was recently upgraded which took Shouto by surprise  

(4) After the initial surprise, Shouto still managed to counter Tetsu, despite having literal flashbacks in the middle of the fight, and reach for flashfire - that move that his father tried to shove down his throat violently beating him as a small child - and actually make a flashfire fist. And to me, that’s someone who is STRONG. Not just physically, but mentally. 

(5) He was about to take Tetsu out, when Honenuki reappeared and softened the ground under him, so Shouto lost his footing and got hit by a metal pipe. 

So Shouto did not lose his 1-on-1 (this is why Tetsu is taking it as a loss), despite having to face not only a perfect counter to his quirk, but also fighting his trauma at the same time. 

It’s not like Bakugou or Deku didn’t get into trouble - they both had to be saved at some point by their teammates and if in those moments their teammates didn’t step up, they could have “FOLDED” just as much as fandom thinks Shouto or Momo did. This is what a team-battle boils down to; nobody can win it alone, and there are a bunch of other factors, like how balanced the groups are, whose quirk is a counter to whose. Or just the fact that in the first battle Shinsou’s support item was a total surprise to everyone (giving a huge advantage to class A), while by the time Deku’s group faced him, they already knew to expect it. 

So anyway, the JTA performance does not in any way show that Shouto is so WEAK compared to anyone else - it was an obstacle that the story put in his path specifically on that day to push his character arc of conquering his trauma and his fire further. That’s all there is to it.  

And most importantly, Shouto comes out of the JTA arc with a renewed motivation to seek out the help of his abuser, because he wants to be better for his friends and not feel like he’s letting anyone down. I don’t know how you can’t see that, but that takes a lot of STRENGTH to do. To face his father, to put himself under his guidance, to accept his moves... all of that. 

And the Endeavor internship arc shows the Origin Trio very explicitly head-to-head several times. Shouto is not “weak” compared to the other two. He’s equal. That’s the point of the Ending fight.

Sure, their quirks have different strengths and shine in different situations and in different ways. Bakugou is faster and more dynamic, Deku is physically stronger (he’s a strength-type) and starts to have a bunch of utility functions, Shouto can do long-range and AoE better, etc. - but all three of them are working also on their weaknesses to become well-rounded heroes who can do everything.  There will always be situations to which one of their quirks is better suited (like Bakugou holding the kid in his teeth during evacuation vs Deku lugging a whole bus, Shouto large-scale freezing the debris, giving them a crucial moment to be able to get away from the Decay). 

And while they have been balanced with Deku up until now, I don’t know if it’s worth talking about it much more, because OFA’s entire point is that it’s an incredibly broken OP power - Deku not only has power-levels available that will probably be out of reach both for Shouto and for Bakugou, he also now has a specific quirk for any imaginable situation, which Shouto and Bakugou will have to pull off with a single quirk.

But during the war arc, you can see that Shouto’s contributions aren’t any lesser than for example, Bakugou’s. (And while Deku does a lot of 100% smashes, by trying to do everything alone, he does a lot of cross-purpose acting with the rest of the team).

So I think Shouto is plenty strong. Not only his quirk (which has a huge open potential, and a lot of versatility, not just for beating people, but also for rescue, something Bakugou doesn’t have to the same extent, for example - Shouto could use his ice to stabilize a collapsing building, make massive slides for evacuation, etc), but more importantly, he’s mentally very STRONG because he’s putting in a lot of work to heal from his trauma, to overcome his negative feelings for his father and by extension for his fire. While those memories and negative feelings made him give up at the Sport Festival, and keep resurfacing at the most inconvenient times, Shouto gets up again and again, each time stronger, to the point he’s able to act when it matters, even in the middle of a complete breakdown.

He’s found his true motivation - and it’s not to beat Deku or Bakugou - but to be the best version he can be, so he can reassure people that things will be ok, because he’s strong enough to face whatever threat, because his trauma won’t hold him back from helping and saving. 

How can you call that weak?

Lesson #3 - Cheating means it's over, no excuses.

Cheating is never OK. Yes, rather an obvious one, but stick with me here. I'm going to go out on a limb and say that I think the majority of people have cheated on someone in some way. We all make excuses, or play it down - we weren't really "together" together, the relationship was over anyway, it was only a kiss so it's not really cheating etc etc. Doesn't matter what excuse we use, I think we can all be honest with ourselves that we knew what we were doing, and in that moment we weren't thinking about our partner. It's not about sex, it's a question of trust. Once that's gone, there's no way back.

When I talk about the breakdown of my relationship with Paul, I like to put a lot of emphasis on my savageness during the conversation that marked the end, in the hope it'll distract from the horrible thing I did that led up to it.

He's a good man, and helped me through some tough times. But it was a co-dependent hellhole of a relationship, I recognise that now. I was his rebound, and I was vulnerable. That's not to say he took advantage, it was the opposite really. He was there during some of my darkest times and I owe him my life several times over. But in the end, that's all I saw him as - my saviour. I didn't respect him, I was really just using him, and I didn't deserve his trust.

He pushed me to get the help I needed, made sure I took my pills and went to my therapy appointments. But as I started to get better, I could see that we weren't really suited. I molded myself to be like him, parroted all his opinions and followed all his interests because I knew that it wasn't going to work out. When I felt him slipping away I'd sink into a depressive episode again, and looking back I realise I was a manipulative bitch. Depression became my excuse for everything, my excuse to keep him close. Not because I wanted him but I just didn't want to be on my own. 

But when I was doing well in myself, he annoyed the hell out of me. I hated how he babied me, despite it being my fault - I'd conditioned him to do it. In my head the relationship was over long before we broke up. 

Our sex life was non-existent, and for a young couple in their early 20s that's never a good sign. Eventually I got it out of him that I'd put on too much weight and I wasn't physically attractive anymore. Not that he didn't find me attractive, but that I wasn't at all, simple as. That hurt like a bitch. Especially seeing as it was the antidepressant pills he was so adamant I take that contributed the most to the weight gain. It didn't occur to me at the time that I was being a huge hypocrite - I'd never actually found him physically attractive, but had told myself it didn't matter. 

Anyway, that comment was the death toll for us. I'd stayed with him for a lot longer than I should have done because I thought my family liked him. Spoiler alert: they really didn't. In my head we'd already split up, he just didn't know it.

I went into work and chatted with my colleagues about it all, them all appropriately horrified at his confession, and announced I'd be ending it with him when I got home. One friend, Emma, said she'd go for a drink with me after work for a bit of Dutch courage, but just as we were all clocking out she said something had come up. She encouraged one of the guys in the other team, Jim, to go for a drink with me instead. There'd always been a lot of flirting between us, and looking back I'm 99% sure Emma knew me and him were going to end up in bed together.

That night was some of the most fun I've ever had. Not the sex - if I'm honest, it was average at best. But the time at the pub was great. We both got hammered and somehow ended up with some random older Scottish guy sitting at our table, buying us drinks and regaling us with his long and funny tales. The three of us were all rolling up a smoke when he suddenly leant forward over the table, clearly worse for wear. He started pointed his finger between us and slurred that he just had to know... were we a couple? Because we seemed like we'd make a good couple, and we obviously "have the hots for each other". I think any other day I'd have probably got all awkward and mumbled out that we were just friends, but for some reason we both just took it on the chin. Jim didn't deny anything, just pointed out I had a boyfriend, while I reminded him that I was supposed to be ending it with him later that evening.

After a while the Scotsman joined a different table, and a different randomer came up to us asking for change, but wouldn't leave us alone. In the end Jim firmly but politely told him that he was trying to enjoy a drink with his girlfriend, so please just back off. It didn't mean anything, he was just trying to get the guy to leave, and in all honesty I don't know why in that moment he referred to me as his girlfriend instead of a friend. And even though neither of us verbally acknowledged it, something changed in that moment. Suddenly it became a real possibility that this could turn into something more - not a relationship, never that, but something more than just two friends going for a drink. Maybe it was our new friend's comments earlier that weighed over us, but from that point on it was obvious we'd be leaving the pub together.

I didn't think about Paul once. It didn't even occur to me to tell him I was going to be home late from work. It wasn't until we were on the way back to Jim's house that I realised I should probably drop him a line, and so sent a text about being at a friend's house. It wasn't a lie, but it certainly wasn't the full truth. That was the moment that I knew I was crossing the line, and the moment I should have stopped.

Instead I stumbled back home in the early hours in the morning and woke up flushed with guilt. I immediately knew I had to tell Paul, but I was still drunk and I do tend to get emotional when I've had a drink. I started crying before I could get it out. He said in the sickly sweet baby voice that drove me up the wall "Aww poor baby, did [lessonsat30] kiss a boy?" Something in me flipped at that stupid baby voice. So instead of having a rational discussion, I instead ended our 3 year long relationship by growling at him "No, I FUCKED a MAN!"

It felt good. I hate myself that it still feels good to remember how I dealt him a big 'fuck you' and found someone who did think I was sexually attractive. It was the first time in a long time that I'd stuck up for myself. It's given me a great story. But that doesn't make it right. It was a shitty thing to do and he deserved better. I should have ended it before I went looking for men who would prove him wrong.

I've been in similar situations since. I fear I'm currently in the same situation. And yes, I do push the boundaries when talking to other men, but I know my limits now. I'll joke and I'll flirt, because it makes me feel good and isn't harming anyone. But I will not cross that line again. I can make excuses all I want, say it was Paul's fault because of his comments about my weight, but really it was mine alone.

I've been on the other side and it fucking hurts. Erik cheated on me constantly in the early days, and I felt like a damn fool when I found out. In a way, it wasn't the cheating that hurt - I got it, long distance relationships do not make for good sex lives, and we didn't see each other as often as either of us would've liked to - but what really crushed me was the lies. That his friends had covered for him too, which meant they must have known. I felt like a laughing stock. 

Ville was the one who encouraged me to put two and two together. We were in the kitchen prepping coffee while the others were in the other room. I started making small talk about the gig the two of them had been to the previous weekend. I mentioned that Erik had been incommunicado the next morning so I assumed they'd had a good night? He gave a very non-committal answer and shrugged off the question. He was quiet for while, which wasn't unusual for him, but then he said that if I really wanted to know how that gig went, I needed to ask Erik. Getting increasingly concerned at his somber mood, I didn't let it go, worried that something bad had happened. He refused to say any more, just repeating I needed to ask my boyfriend.

When Erik appeared and I questioned him, he immediately turned on Ville. There was a heated discussion, and I didn't understand most of it, but I caught enough swearing and insults to know they were obviously mad at each other. I could see it escalating so got between them, coffee pot raised in my hand, not that the threat of a hot coffee shower was really going to make a difference. After a tense standoff, Ville told me I deserved better and stormed out, leaving me still none the wiser as to what was really going on.

It was only after a lot of nagging on my part later that evening that I got the full story - Erik had ditched Ville at the gig to take some girl home, but he'd assumed and expected his friend would cover for him, just like his other friends had done before. Ville was pissed he'd been put in that position and told Erik he wasn't going to be made into a liar. He'd chosen his morals and a foreign girl he barely knew over his closest friend. Knowing what I know now, it must've really taken some balls.

Cheating does that, it turns everyone involved into a liar. It's not worth it. Ever. It's not just your relationship you're fucking up, but you put your friendships at risk too. Because if they're good people, the kind you want as friends, they won't stand for your bullshit and they'll either expose you or distance themselves. Either side, whether you're the culprit or the one they cheated on, don't let it drag out. Have you ever seen a relationship survive after infidelity? Sure, a few months, maybe a few years at a push, but they all break down eventually.

As for me and Erik, I stuck with him for a while longer - in fact this was only at the very start of our relationship. He told me the truth, or his version of it at least. Turns out there was a lot he hadn't been telling me, but I figured he was telling me now so why not start again with a clean slate? So we discussed the kind of relationship we wanted, developed an agreement, and I stuck around, only to get even more hurt by him further down the line. Ville had been right, I deserved better. If I'd have known there was no coming back from the broken trust, I'd have saved myself a lot of heartache.

1041

survey by chasingghosts

What is the age gap between you and your parents? 27 for both. Technically, 26 years with my mom since she had yet to celebrate her birthday when she had me, but she was going to turn 27 all the same. Guh. I can’t believe I’m just five years away from that and I’m still nowhere near building my own family.

How many bathrooms does your house have? Is this enough? Two. I’d say it’s enough. Two people in the family rarely have to go to the bathroom at the same time so it works out for us.

Have you sent a letter to anyone in the past year? Yeah. I used to give Gabie a handwritten letter every Christmas along with her gifts. I still plan on writing her one, but obviously the content will be vastly different now.

Have you ever video chatted with someone you met online? I did this with Carley a handful of times; we’d video chat when I came home from school which was around the time she would get ready for school. She was such an extrovert who was so lovely and bubbly around me, and I’ve always felt bad that she had to contend with my shy ass with my mic always muted lol.

Are you hungry or thirsty right now? I’m neither but I can go for a light meal right now, which is great because I got myself a chicken barbecue sandwich and a caramel macchiato from Starbucks as a treat for myself tonight :) I went through five video call meetings just for today alone, went through several breakdowns while at work, and am also on my period, so I thought I deserved a break.

When was the last time you ate something, and what did you eat? Literally just had a bite from my sandwich.

Have you ever seen the film Boondock Saints? Nope. Sounds nothing like my type of film.

Do you own a pair of gumboots? Nah. I don’t like walking in floods anyway, so I don’t plan on getting a pair.

What colour is your favourite mug? Copper.

How far away from your town/city is your state's capital city? I already live in my province’s capital.

Have you ever worked somewhere where you had to clean the toilets? I haven’t.

Do you know anyone named Doug? No, not really a common name here.

What cut of jeans is your favourite and why? Do mom jeans count as a cut? I’ve been all over those throughout 2020. They’re stylish and yet so comfy, which are two words that seldom go together.

Do you rate people's attractiveness on a scale of 1-10? Uhhhhhhhh unless a friend asked me to rate someone they know, I don’t really think in these terms.

Name a few of your favourite actors. Kate freaking Winslet. Also Kristen Stewart, Emma Stone, Audrey Hepburn, Brie Larson, Florence Pugh, and Eddie Redmayne. I’d name Timothée Chalamet but I have yet to see a work of his.

Do you collect anything, or have you ever? The first item I ever collected was notebooks. In my past relationship (is it obvious I’m not over it yet and probably never will be? Ha) I initially liked to collect receipts from places we went to and ate at. I’d also like to be able to grow a collection of wrestling memorabilia, particularly action figures and belts. It’s not really a life goal of mine but it’d still be a cool thing to achieve.

So, how has your week been so far? I mean it’s only Monday, so nothing much. I cried and broke down a lot today which wasn’t a good start, but tomorrow’s a holiday so no work; and for Thursday I was invited to the Christmas party of the department I initially interned at and apparently they’ll be sending over a Christmas kit over to my place so I’m looking forward to these! It’s super touching they remembered and still invited me even though I’m not a part of the team anymore, so I wouldn’t have missed the party for the world.

Is there anything that you could cry about right now? Definitely, and being on my period at the moment makes it so much easier to cry. But I already cried too much and too hard earlier today and it felt exhausting, so I’m trying to avoid it tonight.

How old were you when you learned how to tie your shoelaces? I was five. I probably would’ve made myself learn later but one of our ‘exams’ in kindergarten was to show that you know how to tie your shoelaces, so I had to ask my grandma to give me a crash course.

Have you ever slept in a car overnight? Why did you have to? Yeah. I had to pull several all-nighters in college and work at 24/7 coffee shops, but I usually gave up by around 2-3 AM and would sleep in the car by then.

When was the last time you used Facebook? Earlier this evening, but I couldn’t scroll too much because spoilers for Start Up are everyyyyyyfuckingwhere and I’m still several episodes away from the finale, which aired last night.

Do you have a PO Box or does your mail get sent straight to your house? Our mails and parcels get sent straight to our door.

Are you interested in entomology? Do you know what that is? Never been. I think it’s great that insects have a lot of capabilities and contributions that we often take for granted; but I personally find a great deal of them icky as well lol so I wouldn’t say I’m interested in this branch.

Have you ever had to claim insurance? What for? Hmm I don’t think so. Not my own nor my parents’. Do you like to listen to albums start-finish without skipping or shuffling? I’ll do this sometimes with my favorite albums, yes. Fuck knows how many times I listened to After Laughter from start to finish with no skips; it was my favorite for a while.

Do you have any unspoken enemies, or maybe frenemies? I’m not the biggest fan of Patrice, but it’s not something I broadcast to people because why would I? I’m sure she slightly does not like me too, so we’re even.

What was the last thing you broke? That would be my last phone charger cord. I’ve since had it replaced though.

Do you have a favourite state/province/territory in your country? Not necessarily an overall favorite but I do have a favorite place I’ve traveled to, which is Sagada. I need a second vacation to see if it still lives up to my expectations and if it would still be able to give me an experience as cathartic and therapeutic as my first trip there, but for the last five years it has sat on the throne.

How many vowels are in your street name? Is this question too mundane? Three. I mean I’ve never been asked this on a survey before, so I wouldn’t call it that.

What are your three top favourite flavours of ice cream? Cookies and cream, chocolate chip cookie dough, coffee.

How far away is the nearest Target? At least a couple thousand miles away.

Do you prefer Target, Kmart or Walmart? Idk and idc.

Have you ever farted in class or somewhere else you shouldn't have? No. I suppress my farts, even when I’m alone haha it’s just my least favorite bodily function.

What's your middle name? Would you change it? I’m not giving it away. I wouldn’t change it and I’m definitely not giving it up even if I get married. I’m keeping my middle name then just hyphenate my surname so that I get to keep all three names.

When was the last tie you wore heels? What was the occasion? September. Job interview for a position I didn’t really want but still chose to undergo because it was still an interview.

Do you find yourself lost for words often? I guess yeah, depression does tend to do that to me.

Did you share baths with your siblings/cousins when you were a child? Yep, I remember sharing the shower with my sister as late as when I was 10. Then puberty happened to me and I did not want to continue the practice anymore, haha.

Have you ever been a member of an online dating site? How did it go? I joined Tinder while I was in a relationship (she made an account as well at the time so it was fair game) literally just to people-watch. I wasn’t interested in cheating; I was just genuinely curious to see how the app worked. I put on a fake name, age, location and my profile photo was of a cat I saw in school so it was impossible to tell it was me.

Do you know what your neighbours even look like? I would not be able to recognize them if you lined them up with a bunch of other strangers, to tell you the truth. I’d probably be able to recognize the carpenters working on the house currently being constructed in front of ours though; they’re super nice and they’re crazy over Cooper haha.

How many siblings does your best friend have? Angela is an only child.

Do you put ketchup on your fries? No. Ketchup does not go anywhere near my fries.

Have you been lucky enough to make out with anyone in the past week? LOL lucky enough...but no, I haven’t done that in a while.

Have your parents ever worked in the agriculture business etc. on a farm? Neither have.

Do you have an ex that makes you angry with literally everything they do? No.

Are you easily susceptible to brain freeze? No but tooth sensitivity, yes. I have a certain tooth that acts up whenever I eat ice cream, and it can get soooo inconvenient and uncomfortable for a few seconds.

Zutara Week 2020, Day 1: “Reunions”

IT’S ZUTARA WEEK BABEY *smoke nostrils emojis*! Here’s my contribution for Day 1 :) @zutaraweek

Title: the most beautiful thing (that I have never seen) 

Summary: This should be no sweat. After all, Katara's had the entire duration of Zuko's trip to the Earth Kingdom to work herself up to task of giving him news that'll rock his world. That doesn't make said news any easier to get out, though.

A/N: I couldn't be more excited about my first Zutara week! I kinda went back to my roots for this with all of my favorite tropes: clueless Zuko! Affectionate Zuko! Protective/Worried Zuko! Kidfic! Fire Lady Katara! Domestic fluff! Screw Canon They've Been Happily Married For Decades! ...okay, Sarah, that's enough exclamation points *takes the box of exclamation points out of my hands*. Anyway. To kick off Zutara week, this one is just pure fun and fluff, and I hope it brings you joy - because that's the entire reason this exists.

Zuko has a feeling something is up when he steps onto the dock and he’s nearly knocked into the harbor by a blur of…something…flinging itself full-force at him. For a moment he remembers to be worried that this is some sort of improbable and incredibly strange assassination attempt but when the blur settles and he realizes that he’s feeling arms around his waist, holding on for dear life, he lets down his guard.

“I missed you,” the blur that Zuko now recognizes as his wife mumbles into his shoulder. He’s a little shell-shocked – he wasn’t expecting her to meet him – but he smiles softly, moving his arms from their startled paralysis at his sides to encircle her waist. Katara nuzzles against his neck. “I missed you, I missed you, I missed you-“

“I was only gone for a week,” he chuckles, privately wondering what’s going on here but too happy to see her to question it. “But I missed you, too. I’m glad to see you feeling better.”

(Even though it had been a short trip, one she’d been meant to accompany him on but had chosen not to when she’d come down with something the week before, he truly had. He could’ve used her assistance, and her conversation, and the pillow he had to cuddle with as he fell asleep in her absence – because, though he’d never admit it, he’d grown so used to falling asleep with her in his arms that he could no longer drift off easily without something there – was a rather poor substitute.)

“I’m still not feeling fantastic, but I’m doing better.” She leans back a little to look him in the eyes, and her smile is radiant and he almost falls into the harbor for the second time in five minutes. “How was Omashu?”

He groans, and that’s all the detail she needs. Linking her arm through his, the Fire Lady laughs and drags her husband (followed by a retinue of guards whose prying eyes she doesn’t seem to notice) to her waiting palanquin.

To Zuko’s surprise, Katara isn’t very chatty on the ride back to the palace. She’s clearly happy – to see him, probably, but he can’t shake the feeling that the smile on her face isn’t just for him – but a little nervous, too, wringing her hands in her lap. He takes one of them in his, both to still her and to feel her skin against his (something he never gets sick of after several years of touch starvation), and massages circles on the back of her hand. “Are you all right?” he asks, flipping her hand to trace the lines of her palm.

Her breath hitches and for a moment, when he glances up in surprise at the sound, she looks suspiciously close to teary-eyed. “Of course I am,” she says shakily, holding out her arms to him in a gesture for please hug me, NOW, or I believe I might cry. And as a wide-eyed and incredibly confused Zuko takes folds her into his arms, he finds himself at a total loss.

“Are you…” he’s almost afraid to ask. Something’s definitely going on here. What am I not understanding? “Is this about whatever you came down with last week?”

“I’m okay,” she says with a watery smile, sniffling. “It’s nothing bad. Don’t worry, I didn’t get sicker.”

He’s too relieved to notice that she doesn’t outright deny it. “Good.” He lets her snuggle up against him and his heart would be melting right now if Katara wasn’t crying for some unspecified reason of which he remains completely unaware.

(It still is, a little bit, but…this can’t be good.)

-----

Zuko is starting to be very worried about this.

Usually, he’s the earlier riser. He’s up at sunrise nearly every day, so he’s a little taken-aback when he opens his eyes to find Katara’s side of the bed empty, gone with no evidence that she was ever there but a person-shaped impression in the satin of their sheets. “Katara?” he calls groggily, rubbing at his eyes. “Where’d you go?”

She pads back down the corridor from their washroom when she hears Zuko’s voice. “Here,” she calls back softly; though there’s no one but him to wake up in this wing of the palace, it feels wrong to raise her voice in the quiet hours of the early dawn. She tries to smile reassuringly as she slides back under the covers and snuggles up to her husband, sleepily clinging to his neck, but he can’t help but notice that her expression is a little pinched. The relief on her face when she finally lays down is obvious, even though she’s nearly asleep.

“Are you still not feeling well?” Zuko asks, pushing a tendril of hair that escaped her braid overnight behind her ear. “Do we need to call-“

“No,” she mumbles sleepily. “’m fine.”

She drifts off after that, and even a few hours later when they have to wake up, she won’t get out of bed. It’s not like her to sleep in – she’s normally so industrious – but her eyes are heavy, and she looks miserable at the idea of starting her day. Zuko can’t bring himself to protest that she has meetings to attend (she does) or that there are documents to review (there are), but it worries him all day. She’s clearly not over her illness and the fact that it isn’t gone makes his stomach twist.

When he returns to their rooms that evening after an exhausting workday to find her passed out in the same clothes she wore to bed last night, he wonders if she’s moved an inch all day.

Zuko shakes his head. There’s definitely something she’s not telling me, he thinks as she sheds his robes and gets ready to join her in sleep (if he even can). It’s a thought that only feels like a dagger to the heart when she unconsciously presses herself closer to him, so trusting she’s drawn to him even as she sleeps.

He can’t let anything happen to her.

--------

It has been four days of this now, and Zuko is definitely worried - infinitely moreso because Katara won’t let him call in a doctor. One minute she’s burrowed in his arms like her life depends on it and the next she’s yelling at him, and he’s really on the verge of a nervous breakdown now-

“For the last time, I’m fine!” Katara snaps, turning her back to him. She’s been acting out-of-character lately, but this sheer, unadulterated rage is new. “You do not need to call the doctor, I’m not dying, and you’re not helping by worrying about me all the time!”

“How could you possibly expect me not to worry?” he yelps. “Are you kidding me? You’ve been” – he starts to tick off her symptoms on his fingers – “crying, sleeping badly, getting mad at nothing, sometimes not waking up at all, running off without telling me why, looking sick, eating almost nothing and then going and eating weird things at weird times – Katara, you’re not fine. And I can’t just sit here and watch you get sicker anymore.”

She hangs her head. “There’s a reason I’ve been running off,” she says quietly, seated at the end of their bed and looking…defeated. It’s not a look she wears often and Zuko’s already-frazzled brain has yet another item to add to its list of Things to Worry About now. “I’m…getting nauseous a lot.”

“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?” Zuko’s face blanches. “You’re sick and you didn’t tell me?”

“This is exactly why!” she protests, throwing up her hands. “It was only ever going to freak you out, and I was waiting for the right time, and honestly, I kind of hoped you’d put two and two together but clearly you’re too dense to-“

“You’re really sick, aren’t you?” Zuko feels like the room is spinning. “Something’s-”

Katara crosses her arms, her defeated expression turning to one of…amusement? Zuko is rather confused – in an instant. “No, Zuko, I’m not sick,” she says, and he’s pretty sure she’s laughing at his expense. “I mean, yes, I am. I mean, feeling sick. But I’m not gonna die.”

“Then why won’t you tell me what’s actually wrong with you?” Between the information he’s just received and her latest sudden mood swing, Zuko is at wit’s end.

“You really haven’t figured it out yet?” she smirks, and, crawling to the other side of the bed where he stands, she sits up on her knees to stand at his eye level and loops her arms around his neck. “I’m not dying, Zuko. I’m pregnant.”

“You’re-“

Oh.

Oh.

Zuko blinks a few times to make sure he’s not dreaming (or…hallucinating – it wouldn’t be the weirdest thing he’s ever experienced), and when he opens his eyes again, Katara’s still there, her blue eyes huge and level with his, waiting expectantly for a response.

(Expectantly. Zuko almost laughs at the fact that he’s so addled he’s making accidental puns now.)

“That makes so much more sense,” he says, breathing a long sigh of relief. Now he really is laughing, partly out of the delight that’s managed to seep through the cracks of ‘I need to process this’ and partly out of sheer relief, because she’s okay, and this is good. “So you’re okay?”

Katara rolls her eyes and pushes her nose against his. “Yes, idiot husband, I’m fine.” She leans in to steal a fleeting kiss. “But check back with me in seven months and I probably won’t have the same answer.”

Then it hits him like a ton of bricks, and his eyes are moist and he’s laughing and crying all at once and all he can think to do is reach down to lift her legs, scooping her off the bed and into his arms and pulling her closer than close. He doesn’t spin her (because he will not be a walking cliché…or, realistically, because his arms are trembling and he’s terrified he’ll drop her even though he does this often), but she gives a delighted little yelp of surprise as he cradles her to his chest, pressing kisses to every exposed surface of her face.

“Someone’s happy,” she teases, and he just kisses her.

“I am,” he says after they finally break apart. “Katara, I…” the lump in his throat won’t let words pass by. “I can’t…I’m sorry, this…I love you.”

He sets her back on the bed and she flops against the comforter, pulling him down with her. They’re laying parallel on the comforter on their backs but Zuko flips on his side to get a better look at her. (An awed smile overtakes his face, and he concludes that whoever it was that decided pregnant women glow was really onto something.) Katara notices, and reaches out to ruffle his hair.

“Aww,” she mutters, moving closer. “You’re cute when you’re speechless.”

They’re silent for a moment, lying there to let themselves take it all in, and then Katara takes his hands and sets them against her still-flat stomach. Zuko feels like he should say something, at first, but the thousand emotions running through his mind won’t let him. And that might be for the better, he realizes.

Words aren’t enough for this moment.

an intervention

> Your almost whole-ass mental breakdown had gone several hours in various stages, and leaked onto your blog surprisingly little given some people’s reaction. ‘Your blog’s a disaster’, well so’s yours buddy, am I right. At least that reaction had immediately led to Seculus hauling feathery telepathic tail to the formerly empty clubhouse; this was a good thing because when it came to the specific thing you were ‘freaking out’ about tonight, ae’d witnessed almost all of it firsthand, so no explanations necessary. Well, almost no explanations. And almost empty. Now that you were paying more attention to the rest of the apartment you noticed your puppy was whining by the kitchen. You weren’t really able to process this before one of the locked bedroom doors opened, and the other angel abruptly appeared around the corner of the hallway, peering into the living room at you with obvious concern. 

You’d already jumped up hurriedly from the couch and in the process knocked over a tower of bottles you’d been slowly building before she got here, so at least they didn’t have to actually see that. What a mess though, still, you could only imagine, if your vision wasn’t fairly blurry. You were a mess too, obviously, but one who had recently figured out autocorrect and has a doctorate in lying, so you’d made a good act of that fact not existing. An attempt was made at moving a bit closer just so she wouldn’t rush over and touch you, but you only made it a couple steps before having to lean on the arm of the couch.  They were poking your brain already, something you’d only ever let aer do in decent conscience, and made no attempt to hug or help you up, but moving closer regardless to perch on the end of the other piece of furniture you’d dragged onto the teleporter pad. To keep out intruders. (And keep yourself in.) She looked at you in expectant silence for a moment and, getting the cue, you made an attempt to flash through some specific thoughts surrounding what you’d gotten yourself worked up about, hopefully quick enough that you’d forget them again in a few seconds. They nodded for a moment, closing their eyes to see it better or recall something about it, but this last bit caused them to frown. “You know, that if you don’t think about all these at some point they’ll just continue catching you by surprise forever....” In no way were you prepared for verbal communication, throat feeling glued shut, so you didn’t.  It would be just as bad whether I thought about it once or a trillion times, you argued, They made sure of that. Embedded it in every particle of your body, several times over. A woodstain that wouldn’t wash out, in the numb hinges of your hands, stiffness of your back and the body that just never felt like yours anymore. Their grip on you was perpetual and complete and the strings were only getting tighter. “Yes, I know it feels like that...because it’s trauma.” No it isn’t! It’s mental manipulation, “They knew what They were doing to make me a certain kind of usefully fragile! They planned this all out from the start, a blueprint for the perfect puppet.” A weird core-burning anger had been gripping you in bursts for some of the evening, resulting in a few hissing red sparks tossed from your hair; and though this one was directed at Them and not Sec, it still made her flinch, both your sudden actual voice and the bitter clarity of what was said, which was rather surprising giving your intoxication. Or maybe not clarity, but it was some kind of bitter anyway. “.....okay,” ae carefully muttered in return, “if.....you do really think. This was all on purpose, and that’s the only reason you’re the way- ....having the troubles you are. Then wouldn’t the best thing to do be to fuck with Their plans as much as possible?” This contribution from Dexter didn’t seem to be the intended wording, but it it got the point across, though Sec winced and added “By getting better. By, getting better and reversing some of the brain paths they made for you....make Them upset, because you figured out you weren’t Theirs. “...and you aren’t. You’ve done so much lately to improve and be yourself the way you want to, you’re as real a person as you think I am to you. If that. Helps......” The nervous bird fiddled with her necklace for a moment, afraid she’d overstepped. You stood unmoving, avoiding eye contact to think about the pros and cons of this suggestion. Like getting away completely was even an option at all, now that They have part of your soul in Their pocket, you idiot-  “-You can be free, it can be done,” Sec interrupted your train of thought with some urgent positivity. “...you know the place had me too, but I made it. Didn’t think so, but I was wrong...” “Don’t compare that, They wanted you gone. And now They’ll probably never see you again; They always get what They fucking want.” “..but we still....did.... [Your situation is just as dire to be sure, given the backdoor access to your soul They possess but you should be aware of our general theory that so long as you keep that amulet on at all times, you would be safe from anything worse than Their call.]”  At Ish’s sudden posture and reminder you frantically patted down the front of your shirt. You weren’t wearing it, goddammit- wait. Okay. It was in your shirt pocket, that’s fine. Or is it? Maybe it didn’t work if it wasn’t making skin contact, you’d thought about that before and forgotten hadn’t you, you immediately fix that and Ishael watched intently.  “[Whether the proximity matters or not is uncertain, but it is quite possible that the extra few centimeters of fabric allowed a bit more than just that to reach you. As we were saying-]” “Can I talk to Sec again? Hell, I’d take Dexter, I just can’t do a lecture right now. Any other time but now, really, but if I stand here and listen I’m going to take root.” “Oh, I suppose, sorry....that’s....but, um, what he was saying was relevant, They....uh......” (The more she thought about what they had been about to warn him of, the more the ways it would make his paranoid current train of thought worse became obvious. Tell him They could potentially influence his thoughts and feelings? Maybe even alter his soul from afar? That was the last thing he needed.) “....just please wear your amulet, at every moment. If you can do that, of, course,” “That I can do.” You were dizzy again, if they weren’t going to touch or lecture you, you could at least stop putting so much effort into standing, and you did. Your legs couldn’t hold your weight, ball joints had that problem, and the leaning you’d been doing put the view through the miles of forest between you and your eyes at an annoying angle to watch from. Sec wrung their hand and stared worriedly at the side of your head for these thoughts, as if trying to drill through your skull and find where you were in there. It wasn’t really working, and you just wanted to close your eyes for a minute. Your arms were already falling asleep, “*Wait, Mads, your puppy hasn’t eaten???” Jack’s voice surprised you but it was when you processed the sentence that you jolted upright. Of course he’d been whining, you evil piece of shit- “*Stop it pleeeaase, you didn’t do it on purpose but we can do it now!! Really fast!” He was right and you had to do that immediately, but in your rush to stand up and almost sprint towards the kitchen your foot caught on a table you’d moved yourself earlier, and you went down like a felled tree a few feet away from the animal you were so urgently moving to feed gave you scared eyes and backed away into the corner of the room. ..you’d been thinking about this earlier, but you didn’t think it’d happen so soon or from this of all things, but then again you’d been louder, and less attentive, and moving so much and so strangely and of course he’d hate you after hearing about any of this object shit,  “Madison, he doesn’t understand what you’re going through and he can’t be disgusted, but you’re very drunk and seeing you. ..seeing you this far gone, calling yourself these horrible things that only hurt you and so convinced of....believing things They’ve made you think because you won’t share anything even to prove Them wrong, and turning your feelings and your head off just to stop, you’re not yourself at all like this, it...hurts to watch, I’m scared for you, you...he’s....Bo’s scared for you,” she projected onto the stressed out dog, shuffling over to sit hugging their knees near you, still on the floor.  “And....I’m sure I’m not the first to say this, but it clearly isn’t working. To do that, to stop thinking about things. ...you do it before even talking to anyone and it always makes things worse, doesn’t it, or you hurt yourself, or feel ashamed in the morning, or, all........” It was difficult to see why you did it so often, but with the vague understanding they’d developed of alcoholism, the logic of addiction was there.

You utilized the excuse of having your face in the carpet to organize this distant whirlwind of things to process without focusing on vestigial things like the existence of your body. It was really a lot, and she was right, you were very drunk, and very dissociated, and it was very annoying how right she probably was. But more importantly, you hadn’t fed Bo and he was scared of you drunk. These were at the forefront as you put the other acknowledgements of emotional problems in bottles for never, and finally pushed yourself to your feet, swaying on the way to the kitchen to find the bag of food he seemed to like, and Sec followed like a shadow, taking quick stock of the visible alcoholic drinks scattered along the counter. Tempting, but the sharp thought of being looked at with fear cut that idea short for now. 

Seculus held up the bowl for you to pour into; soon the dog was eating and seemed slightly happier. You, meanwhile, stood a ways away, unsupported by the couch and with a blank stare on your face. Sec scampered back up beside you after having gathered some bottles up in a trashbag, and quietly asked if ae could touch you yet. You threw the vague equivalent of a nod toward the front of your brain and they lowered an arm to your side, gently folding their fingers around your hand. Yours was still a bit numb, but the cold bit through.  ..You’d finally come up against something you couldn’t argue with as a decent reason to change some more. Not a being or guilt you could ignore, and the risk that he might go hungry.. You’d have to really legitimately stop drinking, huh. “Well, yes, you do...but we’ve been asking you too anyways for such a long time, this would be seen as an improvement in every case....for your health, I mean.” Sure it would. But whatever. It was just something new to suffer through, except this time without the groggy freedom of forgetting to lighten the load, hm, actually this was going to be literal Hell. The bad one. “But we’ll be here for you the whole way, besides I ‘we’, I mean, Simon and Zion and Taes as well, you just need to ask us for help. Please. Sometimes...and. Speaking of which.”

“No, hold on-” “-My therapist is very nice, and very nonjudgemental, and specifically sees nonhuman patients, and he already knows how angels work from us, mostly, so maybe that would help with-” “I’m not talking to a stranger about my shit, how many times do I have to say that!” “...Madison, tonight was a very bad night. You can’t possibly argue that.” This one you could concede, the sheer bounds to which you let your head take a few sparks of recollection, from a determination that you had no free will or remnant of personhood to a vast conspiracy about what They’d done and going out of your way to find things that made you think about yourself and your existence in the worst ways possible and sharing these things on your public blog. Not to even mention the drinking binge. None of it was something you’d be happy you’d done in the morning, but you had no idea how or if talking to a ‘Mental Health Professional’ about it would possibly help. No amount of catharsis would weed out the inanimate wood replacing you from the inside outward. “Talking about it at all can give you another perspective than what They gave you. Working through what happened lessens the blow when it comes up...He can help you see yourself as a person. I was- that was what we worked on for, a bit, still sort of are, those thoughts aren’t reality and you’ll be able to understand....” Ae raised their other arm to wrap around you from the front, giving you a quick hug at the heart twist of hearing your horrifying conviction, and you didn’t process it enough to resist in any way. Which was for the best, you honestly needed it; a grounding touch that activated the nervous system you’d forgotten you had and making you shiver. “...you’re a wonderful person, and you deserve to exist for yourself. I, think so anyways....” ...maybe. Maybe, after you were through withdrawals, one time, just to see if it was worth the strain of talking about your feelings and having someone hear it. Maybe it could help somehow. “No, sooner, please, it will help you not drink as often, really. I can- Oh,” You’d slipped out of their arms to sink to the ground, legs crossed, watching Bo lick his bowl clean and look at you still a bit nervous, but lovingly. You couldn’t be a good pet owner if you didn’t do this, huh. (That was clearly the one and only reason this seemed worth doing.) But it was. Something you’d have to think more about in the morning, once you could actually think. And you Would, probably, you’d hold yourself to that, as would Sec as she quickly set an alarm to remind you in the morning after the inevitable hangover. 

Ae sat down beside you, you let out a long sigh and leaned against them a bit, as your pup zigzagged over to you. In the morning, then. But for now, with Sec’s long-dreaded Important Conversation complete (or temporarily on hold), they were here to distract you from these thoughts, and took you outside a bit later to get Bo some fresh air and look at stars and show you how to skateboard, making it a goal to, for the moment at least, forget the vast threat They posed and the marks They’d left on you. Which worked, partially at least. You still felt far away, and the morning was still looming, but at least this one nightmare was good for something.

New Beginnings

Right off the bat; I don't really care whether or not people read this. This is honestly more for me than it is for some random person casually scrolling through here ALTHOUGH if any of you really feel like you need to contribute feel free to comment or to DM me - my ears are always open. I also feel like I'm going to be moving from one point to another and then going back - it's going to be a mess. Please forgive me <3

Now I wanted to start this mainly because I feel more comfortable writing digitally than I do in an actual diary - it's so much easier to write on the go. Plus I can choose whether I want to publish the chapter or to keep it unpublished. 

I want to share some life stories from myself, my experiences through 2019 as one of my most hated years yet because so much shit happened. It all started to spiral downwards when I started uni, for some strange reason it just hit me hard compared to other people. It was just such a large leap into adulthood that I feel like I wasn't ready for and there were many, many, MANY days that I genuinely just wanted to quit and give up. There were issues with people around me, the relationships I have/had with friends and boyfriend(ex) and a big issue with my mental health. 

I haven't told anyone about these problems - it has been a secret carried on my shoulders for the entire year - I was "diagnosed" with anxiety and (maybe?)depression by a school counsellor although I became afraid and never attended any of the meetings they wanted me to attend. Then the year just had to end with my grandfather passing away on the 23rd of December. And quite honestly that was truly a breaking point; to this day I feel like I haven't truly realised what happened and that he is seriously gone. I was never extremely close to him and nor was he my blood-related grandfather but I guess I was just still really shocked by his sudden passing. 

Now I know people on this site in real life and if any of you happen to read this - please do not worry. I don't want this information to go on past this site - I want it to stay between me, this digital platform and whoever is reading. (aka don't tell my family if you know me).

Regarding my relationships, 2019 started off with me getting my first boyfriend, but I was dramatically blinded by the excitement of just being classified as "in a relationship" as days went on, I could feel the excitement dropping. Eventually, we decided to break up (on valentines day through the phone lmao) but even though we decided to stay in touch, he just disappeared. Unfriended me on everything, I think maybe he blocked me at one point (although not anymore) and has basically just become a stranger. Looking back, we would have never lasted anyways; he was a family man and I liked my alone time, he was a little immature (not that it's bad!) but I am quite mature and don't like being silly constantly, then there was the fact that he moved quite quickly into using the 'love' word which I felt uncomfortable with - both because he was moving so quickly and because I was slowly losing all feelings towards him. 

There was also the fact that I guess I lost a lot of friends. Now I'm not that person who puts the blame on the other- I was partly at fault for our falling out. I guess our friend group just got... busy? We were all attending different universities, different timetables, I was literally always working and our group chat just died. It got to the point where I just felt awkward messaging them as they all had their new friends and stories while I was still that loser loner who had no friends in uni and barely even left the house other than to work. I was in bed almost all the time I wasn't working or learning. I just feel like I'm not really the kind of person to become their friends as they've all changed so much, and I don't really want to bother them? As of now, I really only have one friend - my best friend. I really love her, and I feel shitty knowing that last year I barely hung out with her as I was just so... sad??? I have hung out with her more times since January 1st than I did the whole of 2019. That makes me angry at myself. 

I also feel disappointed in myself for a lot of things. I stopped writing - my most favourite thing in the world. I was so immersed in my small problems and self-pity that I just lost the motivation to write and that also make me so angry knowing that its something that I love and have always loved. One of my goals for 2020 is to get back into writing fanfiction and to have at least 1 book completed - it isn't much to other people but for me, that will be an achievement. 

I'm also disappointed in my motivation for my health. Towards the beginning of the year, I was getting into shape - losing all the extra weight and eating healthier but I got a personal trainer and everything flipped. He was just... draining I guess the word would be. Very demanding, pushy and I guess manipulative. He made me sign a 6 month locked in a contract with him, paying $50 a week, sometimes $100 when he pushed me into doing 2 sessions a week instead of one. Now I know what you're thinking "why didn't you just say no?!" but if you knew me, you'd know I'm just too shy and quiet to do that. The contract also never stated that there was an additional $4 fee per transaction along with not being able to cancel sessions without 24-hour notice even if I was sick. As the year went on I stopped going to the gym in my own time because I was just terrified of him being in the gym and in case he pushed me into doing a sessions 'since I was there' and me having to pay him more. I kept telling him that I didn't want to do extra sessions as I was trying to save up money for a trip I'm going on next year and yet he'd always push me to do more. I guess I just got sick of it. There were other issues with him, but many of which would be too long to list in this. In the end, about 4 weeks ago I put my foot down, told him I needed a break after my grandfathers passing (to which he told me "not to let things get in the way") and I haven't contacted him since even though he's tried to contact me. I'm still scared to go to the gym though, and I want to get healthier but I don't want to run into him? ya get me?

The last thing I really want to share is with the school. I've always loved learning but I feel like I moved way too quickly from high school and into university. I had several breakdowns last year regretting my decision of joining the course I'm doing - although I was doing quite well I just wasn't enjoying the content. I felt forced into doing it and I had a serious episode when I thought I failed a unit where I spent a solid 6 hours crying and looking up ways to earn extra credit, to redo the exam and to even switch to easier courses. Luckily the next day marks were finalised and I ended up passing although that event really opened up my eyes to my mental health regarding further education. I'm still not sure if I'm doing something I love, although I've enrolled into my second year so I guess I'll just have to see. For 2020 I aim to pay more attention, actually complete my school work and to do my very best in actually understanding and learning the information. 

Overall 2019 wasn't a great year, but I'm hoping 2020 will be better. So far I've already had some great times with my best friend, I've finally done something for myself (went and FINALLY dyed my hair purple which I've been wanting to do for literally 7 years) and I've already started planning out my days with a journal so I'm not an uncoordinated shit. 

When Jensen released the video announcing the conclusion of the series, I had a very weird feeling. I respect their decision but I think it was more Jensen idea than Jared and this annoys me a lot, but it seems that if you say something like that you are not a real fan. What do you think about it? You have no idea of ​​the insults I took because I dared to say that Jared and Jensen think differently...

I agree with you Nonny. I think it was Jensen’s idea too.

Bottom line: Jensen wants to move on, therefore, the show must end.

Longer version:

Jared has wanted to leave the show for a long time. Or, maybe not leave, but definitely not be in front of a camera for a while. He’s said that he’d like some time off after spn ends, but any actor that takes time off rarely gets back in the spotlight. But he wouldn’t leave as long as Jensen wanted to keep doing the show. Jared didn’t want to put the crew out of work (Oprah had similar concerns with her show, and I think she gave two or three years notice before ending), but he was also burning out. The show gracefully allowed more characters to reappear, which gave Jared a lighter workload. This worked for years.

Jensen wants to stay in the industry, but that means they can’t just end spn, they have to plan it out to the last day. In that planning is prep work for Jensen to show the industry who he is, what he’s capable of, and that he’s on the market again. That involves PR work to help guide public perceptions. This can be seen by Jensen’s public image lately: Architectural Digest shoot, King Bacchus, FBBC heavily promoted, and the texting ad, just to name the ones off the top of my head. This is radically different from Jared’s public persona: meeting fans, partying, drinking, and marathon running.

The video showed me that Jensen is ready for the next step, but Jared needs more time to mourn. But houseofglass, you said Jared wanted to leave! Yes, but he holds his emotions much closer to the surface than Jensen does. I think Jared, even though he’s tired, would have kept going on with the show just to keep his lifestyle afloat. I also think that even though they planned this out, seriously planned it, that it wasn’t real for Jared until they told the crew. As long as the workplace was in the dark, Jared could keep his fantasy of leaving alive. But once it became reality, several things probably fell into place for him.

What are those things? This depends on your perceptions Nonny. I don’t know if you’re a tinhat, a shipper, or a casual fan, so I’ll give a couple of explanations.

Casual Fan:Both have said they’ll keep going until the writing doesn’t work. Well, objectively, that would’ve been a few seasons ago. I mean, God’s sister? Crowley had a mother? WTF? The writers have been adding extra characters, presumably to give J2 time off, but the show has suffered as a result. Anyway. Let’s move on.

Jared’s adult life has been consumed by this show. He was 22 when he filmed the pilot, and is now 37. He has no idea of what adult life is without the show. Everything hinges on it. Travel, family time, filming, vacations, work related PR, conventions, meeting fans, all of it. Sure, he acted before the show and had a life before it as well. But his formative adult years were spent at one job. Imagine being married during the same age range for the same duration. Ending that marriage, whether toxic or not, is difficult.

Without the show, Jared has to figure out who he is and what he wants to do to fill his days. That’s really scary for someone who has mental illness or spends a lot of time inside their own head. As soon as the crew was notified, Jared had to face up to the fact that he agreed to this, that his life will now change, that his cornerstone is going to be gone, that it’s now REAL. So while he might have been ready to move on intellectually, he wasn’t quite ready to deal with the reality of it.

Jensen wants to keep working and try new things. Supernatural is holding him back. Don’t @ me, it is holding him back. He’s typecast. Pigeonholed. He’s Dean Winchester; tough guy with a soft heart. Trying to get another role will be difficult. If he stays in the industry and works behind the scenes he has a better chance, but first he needs to put spn behind him.

He knows Jared wants a break. He knows the crew will be unemployed. He knows spn contributes a lot to Vancouver/BC’s economy. He also knows he has to do difficult things to get what he wants. He has to end the show, and do it gracefully. I have no doubt he’s shaken up by his decision, but is comfortable with it.

Jared, however, seemed less comfortable with it even though he’s made it clear he wants a break. Wanting something and getting it are two different emotional states.

Shipper:Shipping isn’t a problem for J2. Kim Manners used to show them the Wincest fics and even print them out and post them on a bulletin board. J2 found it funny and a good release of creative energy. Neither appeared to have any issue with shipping.

Until they did.

Jensen could brush off all Destiel shipping questions pretty easily at first. It was an expression of creativity and his attitude was ‘to each their own’. But some Destiel shippers became militant and started asking invasive questions at cons. They also started hounding him on SM about Destiel. He’s handled it very well over the years, despite the hatred he received in return. But when he said, “Destiel doesn’t exist” at a con, I think that was the turning point for him.

Dean Winchester was a character Jensen really liked. Kinda tough, liked cars, masculine, good-natured, free lifestyle, that kind of thing. But somehow Dean got boiled down to half of Destiel. And I don’t mean with just the fans. I have eyes, I’ve seen the show, they queerbaited Cas and Dean when Cas was new. Although I think a lot of that queerbaiting was in the editing room. They could slow film down or change the colour saturation if they chose to, and this could change the audience’s perceptions of what’s going on.

Sidebar: I watched a show named unREAL which was about the producers of a show like The Bachelor, and in unREAL they demonstrated how to make two people look like they had chemistry. I had to pause the show, rewind, and watch again. I didn’t know that slowing film down could make glances seem significant. I know now.

So, here’s Jensen, playing a character he likes, only to have it 'twisted’ into something he doesn’t believe it is. For a while this was fine. Let the fans think what they want, it brings in ratings, it doesn’t change how he acted. Then it wasn’t fine, he got more and more irritated with the whole thing. If he kept going on with the show, he might have had to play a character in a way that was more like pandering and less like being authentic to the character.

On that note, Jensen has been distancing himself from Misha over the years. Why? Because Misha fuels Destiel whenever possible. Well, not lately. He’s switched to Sastiel. Anyway, despite being able to draw a crowd at a con with a Destiel panel, Jensen only does one a year: Jus In Bello. Please gently correct me if I’m wrong here, but I’m sure there’s only one Destiel panel and it’s in Rome. Jensen participated in the charity campaign with Misha, but not much since then. I suspect he did it because TPTB insisted he do something, and he agreed to the YANA campaign. Remember, celebrities are beholden to PR.

So now Jensen is doing a show with a person that isn’t respecting a boundary (stop pushing Destiel), and the perceptions of his character have changed in a way he doesn’t like. Time to end the show. Being a true professional, he ensured the fans and crew had enough notice to adjust to the idea.

Jared didn’t seem bothered by any shipping at all. If this is the primary reason for the show’s end, it was Jensen’s idea more than Jared’s IMO.

Tinhat:I believe Jared wanted to end the show after PR tried to separate him and Jensen by insisting they get married to women. Jared’s first breakdown was right about that time, and I always wondered if it was because he was living in a happy bubble with his lover and his show, and now he had to pander to the (perceived) hetero audience. Leading men just could not be gay back in the day. There’s more outed gay actors now, but fifteen years ago things were different. He held on, did as he was told, and his world continued.

Jared’s marriage seems to be falling apart, and I, personally, suspect it’s already over and done. Papers signed, custody arrangements made, properties split. If the show was still going on, he’d have to field questions about his divorce. But, if the show is announced it’s ending and then he announces his divorce, the divorce will take a back seat to the show’s finale. Timing is everything.

Jensen has seemed happy as a pig in shit for the entire run of the show. Sure, he’s had bad days, but mostly he’s enjoyed his time on spn and the lifestyle it’s awarded him. He didn’t seem as upset about getting married as Jared did (seriously, go find the pics of Jared’s wedding. He looked like he was kissing something repugnant), but Jensen had a different upbringing that conditioned him for a celebrity lifestyle. He probably knew beards were mandatory and it was just a matter of when, not if.

In order for them to still spend a ridiculous amount of time together, they had to keep the show going. It wasn’t a problem, the network was fine with it. But the pressure was hard for Jared and has been for a long time. If not for Jensen, Jared would have left years ago.

But then they announced the show was ending and their reactions were a bit off. Jensen appeared somewhat together, a bit excited, a bit sad, but ready. Jared looked like he’d been crying for hours and still had days worth of tears to shed.

The tinhat in me says this is because their entire world is about to change, and it may not be for the better. Nobody can predict the future. How much of J2’s success as a couple is reliant on them being together for most of the time? How will they navigate their relationship if only one is working? Will they come out? Probably not, if Jensen wants to stay in the industry. Jared won’t have his lover acting with him, he won’t have his lover for most of the hours in a day/week/month/year. He’s going to be alone, and that’s scary.

For the tinats: I’m not saying their relationship won’t survive. I don’t have a crystal ball. But it might be rocky at first while they figure out their new dynamics.

TL;DR: yes, Jensen seemed happier than Jared in the video. Jared seemed much more upset, and even tried to look at Jensen, who looked toward Misha instead of meeting his eyes.

Oh, and I didn’t really address Misha in this because it’s always been said that as long as J2 want the show to continue, it will. Him being in the video is more of a PR thing to me: Misha also needs to build his portfolio and I suspect his agent has negotiated more uh, 'lead exposure’? for him. I don’t know what the correct phrasing is, but he’s been lumped with J2 more and more lately.

Oh, and if you read this far, thanks for letting me babble :)

... apparently, these are becoming a weekly endeavor. (watch me getting an autoblock as soon as I post this) ( AO3 )

tl;dr Hawks is in high spirits (no pun intended), and Rumi’s Intrigued™

Meanwhile, somewhere not too far away, a vaguely annoyed Dabi is sneezing a whole lot, questioning whether his feeble ass is allergic to feathers.

(((I almost chose an angsty ending. Almost. But apparently I cannot do that with series and games that are not depression station in the first place, F.)))

“Say… you are in a reeeeeally good mood today, aren'tcha?” Rumi notes between two obnoxious milkshake slurps next to the remaining morsels of their lunch while taking a full round on the revolving barstool. It’s a Monday, it’s a conference day, a boring conference day where she’s about to kill herself out of sheer boredom… and Hawks, who’s usually also only present in body and ready to passive-aggressively tear the thing down, is radiating a hundred different levels and shades of sunlight. Of course she’s gonna jump on this.

“Huh?” the hero replies, returning to the present; the pen he’s got bouncing between two fingers while reading through the despair-inducingly thick paper pile in front of him (most likely invitations and offers of various kinds) never stops in its fast, metronome-like movement. The little smile that's been plastered over his face all day perks up a little as he looks at her, too. He’s obviously missed the question directed at him, but doesn't seem to be bothered by it.

“I said you are in a good fucking mood, twerp,” his friend repeats with a click of the tongue. Something’s definitely up. “And that you didn't catch it is all the damn proof I need. Haven't seen you this well-adjusted since… ever, actually.” Slurrrp.

“Aaah… guess so,” he muses with the rhythm slowing and a thoughtful expression for a change.

“I had the best fucking sleep ‘since ever’ is all.” The pause preceding this is uncharacteristically long, and his persistent smile returns before he even reaches the conclusion.

“You slept?” chortles Rumi in disbelief, then starts choking as some of the remaining milkshake finds its way to her lungs. The plausible fact that this alone could make him feel alive should not be this funny.

Hawks’ smile widens into a grin and he leans onto an elbow, shoving the documents aside. “Seven hours and thirteen whole-ass minutes, bitch. It's a new record!” It wasn't exactly that much, probably just under seven if he wanted to be honest. But point stands.

Once having regained composure, the heroine lets the information linger for a few seconds. Hmm. Hmmm… “Explains why you are functional and were late for the meeting. What it doesn’t explain is how you, Mr. 10 minutes ahead of everyone’s schedule… early bird extraordinaire… slept in.” That goofy expression is not his usual one, no. There's a snoop to be had, here. After a deep, deep, grin-ridden sigh, she turns back to him, leaning on the counter as well. “Has it got anything to do with dodging, like, all of my invitations lately? Hmm?” She wiggles her brows at him.

Man… she just went there, didn't she. Unfortunately, the persistent smile refuses to cover for him. In fact, it's more incriminating than anything, creeping wider once more. Well then. “Hasn't got as much to do with it as you would like, fam. There's only about… 15% of overlap.” Plus some change.

Maybe more, now that he thinks about it… because the disturbingly domestic (and even worse, occasionally comforting and enjoyable) shenanigans with the League have long outgrown the ‘meeting up with actual S-rank villains in my fake free time because spy lmao’ category. Rumi wouldn't buy that anymore, she's seen enough to know that he's full of shit.

There's a glint of a hunter’s in Rumi’s eyes… a hunter’s that has found fresh track. Her grin turns into a triumphant sneer. “So you do admit to seeing someone.”

The smile on Hawks’ face gains a streak of concern. “Please don't make me think about it in those terms,” he moans, furrowing his brows. “Any of the people I've been dealing with are freaks of nature.”

“So are we,” she notes, not missing a beat.

That earns a similarly fast fling-and-point of a pen in her general direction. “Word.”

She snickers. “Come on…! Tell me about that dreamy 15% that has you so pepped. I'm dying to know~”

He thinks about it for a bit. Then, the feathers of Hawks’ wings rustle, and he himself takes a gander around the restaurant; there's mostly heroes, sidekicks and managers gathered in the building in the first place, who are similarly disinterested in each other's dwindling lunch break times and private lives. While assessing the room, he's silently weighing his options as to how much he can say, and how he should choose his words.

“So… I've been roped into a kind of internship in the past months that I wanted nothing to do with, and am still hella iffy about,” he begins, keeping it just low enough for it to be not overly suspicious.

“Good start!”

“I know, right? Anyway… it's dirty work, but turned out to be tolerable, most of the time. The coworkers are all bonkers, but I've already come to the terrifying conclusion that I'm not all that different.”

“Took you long enough.”

“Hush, I'm telling your story…! Who you might be interested in, I think, is the contact person that keeps a close eye on me even today.”

“OOOH, this is getting spicy~ are they, like, twice your age? You are into older people, after all. Oh, and dude or lady? Other, maybe? You are being really cagey.”

“What did I just say?! Also, I'm not into older people. This peep is up to five years my senior, tops.”

“Never had to listen to yourself when going on about Endeavor, have you!? And see? You just admitted the peeper is older!”

“That’s fan rambling, and ever since I had to work with him, I have held my horses in check, hon. As for the other thing? Honestly, I never asked about their birthday or age, but I've been getting older sib vibes. Could be younger or as old as I am, for all I know. But let me fucking continue. SO… we've been getting along okay lately. Way too well, actually, considering the mutually hostile ~strictly professional~ gig we both started out with. Not that we're not assholes to each other still, but we are… like, frenemies.”

“Strangely mysterious person is already starting to sound like you.”

“…”

“Okay, Pot, okay!! Stop looking all disappointed and tell me about Kettle.”

“… Kettle will be a great stand-in name, thanks for the contribution. You are allowed to acknowledge this with a hum.”

“Mhmm.”

“Excellent. Back on topic… as you know, my yesterday… had been a thing.” For the first time that day, the smile disappears entirely.

Rumi hums again with a nod, which doesn't get shot down. From what Hawks was willing to share about family, it had been obvious that he wasn't on particularly good terms with his parents in the first place, but…

“Long story short, yesterday was also internship day, and I was in a pretty bad mood when we met. Tired, anxious, angry, you name it, I had it. Thankfully there's no news coverage, and I didn't want to bring it up, either… but Kettle… knows me well enough to tell when I’m faking it. And how to push my buttons. The prodding got the best of me, eventually; really, this irritating bitch can get under my skin with an efficiency you can only dream of… but anyway, I was so pissed... like, borderline feral, that even they were surprised. Which, in turn, made me feel like a wreck once I realized what I was doing. So they hammered the last nail into the coffin by putting on their calmest, most civil face, -a rarity, really,- to ask the single, logical question in that situation. And I caved. For a dreadful moment I honest to god thought Kettle would make fun of me, you know. What kind of number two hero has their mother stuck in detox every three months…? Fuck, if not for the bar fight, I wouldn't even know she relapsed two whole years ago already! But, uh… they… seemed to understand. We had a therapy session for peasants at my place, then. Kinda like what we have sometimes. And that's when it really got…” Tongue click. “… heavy.”

Rumi’s ears have been attentive and alert, but hearing this makes them part. She takes a second-long break; there's something that usually helps Hawks sleep a little better. And heart-to-hearts tend to push him over the brink, hell, some nights they do this just so he can get some rest. “… You cried.”

With some delay, he nods. “… I did.”

She lets out a tired sigh. “Managed to weird ‘em out, huh.”

“Actually… it ended up being a half drunk weeping contest for the emotionally constipated,” he muses, eyes staring into a scene from the past, located somewhere past the pen in his right hand. “They opened up a little to me, too. Which was new, but… comforting. I learned that while my mother frequents the station, Kettle’s mom has been hospitalized with a severe case of mental breakdown since they were a teen. They miss her… but cannot visit. They fear that showing their scarred face would make her relive the freak show that resulted in her being sent there in the first place.”

“ … Jesus. Both of you sound like the life of the party when running a hashtag-mood.”

The remark brings back the shadow of his happy smile. “I guess so. But, guess what?”

Hers returns as well; they reached the nice part. “What?”

“I ended up leaning onto Kettle… and them onto me. We hugged it out… and stayed like that for like an hour, the sniffling messes we were. And in the morning… I woke up in the arms of someone, warm and safe… sun shining into the room, little bastard relatives chirping outside. I could even smell fresh coffee being made someplace, coming from the open window. And that… that felt divine.”

Rumi takes a delighted sigh. “The life, bitch. That's… the life.”

“Yeah.”

They lie around like that for a few minutes, sprawled on the counter as the noises of the still busy restaurant creep back into their little bubble before it inevitably pops. Hawks breaks the comfortable silence then. “All in all… I admit that you have been right about me all along.”

Her feet bounce an increasingly impatient rhythm against the metal frame as her mood and blood pressure lift back to normal. “Right about what? You are a felon for not supporting pugs, an abomination for even daring to look at pineapple pizza, and an absolute disgrace for turning down ghost peppers! Be more clear, dammit.”

Hawks tosses the long forgotten pen onto the form pile and leans in closer, hiding his mouth with his hands from view. He breathes it in a whisper so low, only people with superhuman hearing or big ole rabbit ears could catch his voice right now. It’s time to make her day, too. “Rumi, I think… I'm hella gay.”

She reflexively does a little hop on the stool as a very high pitched “Holy shit…!” escapes her mouth, turning some heads. Seeing that it's the two of them up to their usual shenanigans, the few people return to their own worries and discussions.

It takes her inhuman effort not to screech like a hare on the spot; punching the air and gasping for it, she calms down eventually. Having found a semblance of self-restraint, she leans back down in, aggressively whispering to him: “First of all, told you so, and more importantly!! Bitch, you're in love, and didn't tell me?!”

As much as Hawks enjoyed watching her outburst, he finds himself sinking behind his arms now. The incessant grin is back in its full glory and is starting to hurt his cheeks, which have turned very pink in color. An unconvincing “nah” is the only thing he can muster.

Rumi breaks into some light-hearted cackling as she moves over, then gently peels Hawks’ defenses off of him to have a closer look. “Bruuuh…! You are in full rose textured shojo manga mode. That's adorable.”

There’s an attempt at rebuilding said defenses. “Shut it, you overgrown furry.”

She’s unperturbed by the lukewarm defensive taunt. “And you kinda smell like smoke from up close, too~ It’s your first love, right? Aaah, baby boy’s growing up, I’m so happy for you…!” With that, Hawks receives a spine shattering hug.

“Rumimyribs,” is all he can squeak before the gesture does more than just some joint popping. He’s had a near-death experience with these ever since the first time she did that, holy shit.

“Hee hee~ I didn’t forget you’ve got bones made of glass, don’t worry.” She pops back down onto her seat while Hawks gets over the scare. “Sooo... when are you gonna introduce me to your boyfriend?”

“It’s… just a crush, man. He’s… not my boyfriend…” Even thinking about it feels weird… and saying it… really is something else.

She nods. “He doesn’t know it yet! Gotcha.”

Siiigh. “Girl, I can’t just…” STOP, stop… hold the damn phone right there. Ending that sentence would birth more questions to dodge, and he’s not up for brain work at the moment. With a dismissive wave, Hawks restarts the answer. “Anyway, you've seen him already at the very least, so there’s that.” That's all she needs to know- they both know a number of people with fucked-up faces, she won’t admit possibly having missed him, and this… will destroy her.

“… well shit. Now I'll stay up at night wondering who the fuck it might be.”

Bingo. “You’re welcome.”

“Asshole,” she huffs, swatting his hair before settling for a good ruffling. “… say, baby bird.”

“Hm?”

“Want a drink? It's on me. Let's pop one in honor of your heart throb and first crush.”

... uh-oh. “… Rumi.”

“I hope you know this calls for some supreme shit… let me look for a good place nearby, for after this hell is over.”

She's already typing into her phone. Oh no.

“Rumi.” This does not bode well. He has so much shit to do tomorrow. And here’s this pile of junk, most of which he’s yet to have a look at…

“How’s a Zombie sound?”

“RUMI,,,”