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tiffyfoundsomething · 1 year

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I haven’t been excited by a new toy in a while, but MGA’s new Miniverse got my attention.

These are available everywhere, including Amazon: https://amzn.to/3GGeEIt

However, that’s not always a good thing. It’s not always a positive aspect of a toy that catches my eye.

The big “what???” of these is that they’re marketed to kids age 8 and up, and contain UV resin.

Now..... Resin is

well it’s

...

It’s not for kids.

Allergies to uncured resin are common (both 2-part epoxy and UV resins) and can be severe.

There are lots of warnings in the packaging. I didn’t read them.

You should wear gloves and a respirator when working with any resin, even in a well ventilated area. There aren’t many proper respirators that fit kids....

Froggy on YouTube was too afraid to open her resin and instead used tinted Mod Podge which worked just as well.

I, however, am old and experienced with both types of resin (though no expert), unafraid of the possible reaction I could endure (I’m familiar with resin allergy and how it can be, so a good test subject) so I figured I’d give these a look to see just how bad an idea they might be for kids.

I did NOT wear gloves or a respirator while working on these kits in the name of science.

My first order was 3x of the Diner balls (there are 3x of the Cafe ones on the way).

I wanted a blueberry cheesecake.

None of my three were any type of cheesecake. I got this strawberry and cake parfait, choco-hazelnut spread and strawberry toast, and key lime pie.

First warning on this one: When I opened the little plastic bag that contained the “vanilla cream”, it smelled of UV resin and left my finger sticky. Some resin must have gotten on the outside of the bottle before it was bagged. It did make me itch at the time, which I was like “oh no....” but I’ll get back to that. One of the other balls had the same experience, but not all three.

The positives: Wow this is cute. There are screened veins on the strawberries, the whole berries have painted leaves, and the cake cubes are textured. These are very nice little minis, if a little under-detailed and obviously plastic.

Excellent for doll houses.

Every tiny bottle of resin has a big DO NOT EAT THIS sticker on it with information if you peel it off and unfold it.

The negatives: resin

You get tools, but they’re insufficient. I’ll address that later, also.

The little fruit and cake packages are difficult to open and I tossed my cake cubes across the desk. I am clumsy.

The resin bottle is VERY difficult to open. While this is good to prevent leaks (presumably), it did result in me and various tools being covered in resin trying to get it open.

Most of these items are a good scale for 1/6th dolls (Mini Me is a Live Action Beauty and the Beast Belle head on a curvy Barbie body). That bread is kind of big, those are bulk peanut butter, and that’s a LOT of vanilla cream.

Speaking of the bread...

I am NEVER opening this. Never. It’s too cute as it is. There is a TINY. BREAD. TAB.

Never.

That freed up one kit’s stuff to mix with the others.

These limes are transparent like they’ve been baked.

The whipped cream tube opens and there are all of these dollops inside, but I’m not the only one that thought they looked like little garlic! With a little toasty-colored dry brushing they could also be meringues.

Anyway, this was my “I’ve done this before.” set up. I didn’t tape down my tape (that’s a vinyl flooring sample, it’s an excellent base for working on UV resin), but it was fine for this small project.

I like to work on baby wipes because the damp, rough texture stops things from rolling or sliding around (it’s especially handy if you’re playing with glitter) and I keep another on hand to wipe my tools or my fingers as needed with the container nearby because I do go through a lot of wipes. Negative to baby wipes is that they’re prone to dropping strings everywhere.

Back to the tools.

You don’t want to touch uncured resin. The tools that come with these kits are playscale. Imagine trying to dig the key lime pie goo out of this jar with that tiny knife (though that set comes with a spoon). You’re going to be covered in resin.

There’s only about 1/3 of the jar full.

I used my normal resin doing spoon which is long and still had to stop to wipe my fingers a few times because I am clumsy.

The same with the tweezers.

These longer ones are much safer.

Each of these three kits has a different texture of resin. This is the “Nutella” which is thick and spreadable. I was using it as chocolate sauce since I didn’t want to use the bread. The vanilla cream was runny, and the key lime pie goo was in the middle.

I was doing this at 5 am in the winter so there was no sun. I used my nail lamp, so I can’t say whether these would set properly in the sun.

Having experience with UV resin, I did the key lime pie in two layers, curing the lower layer of just lime goo first so that the pieces wouldn’t get pushed too deep into said goo, then adding a second, thinner layer to set the fruit into.

I got this all over myself even with my longer, more appropriate tools.

Because the deco is plastic you can’t hit the resin with a flame to get rid of bubbles. Sometimes you can get them to pop if you blow on it hard and fast (POOF!) but I didn’t bother.

Obviously I switched mine up and made a strawberry limeade pie instead, using some of the Nutella to make a chocolate dipped strawberry on top.

As for the parfait, I am disappointed that the cake cubes on the bottom are obscured by the resin. It is very runny, ran down and around and covered them right up.

I also did this one in layers. I was wondering if the white resin would be able to cure because sometimes opaque tinted UV resin, especially white, can’t cure and you end up with a thin, cured crust and then that can be easily broken and uncured resin comes out everywhere.

This white resin cured fine. It’s not opaque.

I’m wishing I’d skipped the whipped cream on the parfait because the bright white of the whipped cream makes the transparency of the vanilla cream resin more obvious.

And this is what I’m left with!

If I hadn’t put the big strawberry on the key lime pie, it all would have fit into the pie crust container.

I cured the mostly empty insides of the vanilla cream and key lime goo containers but not the Nutella because I might come back and use that some day.

Whipped cream bits are back into the can.

I didn’t want to have empty fruit packaging so I pulled out some polyclay canes and refilled them.

Final thoughts

If you were to do these kits as intended, you’d be throwing away most of them. There was a TON of plastic bags inside, three layers of plastic outside, the pie crust and fruit containers and resin bottles/jars would be empty, there are many, many papers inside telling how to use the resin and warnings and the checklist and MGA’s usual “Give us your toy ideas for free!” flyer they include in everything these days.

I didn’t put them in the pictures but each kit does come with a small table that can snap into the ball to use as a dust-free display, and a doily or place mat depending on what you’re making.

I DID get resin all over my fingers. The resin DOES smell, but not as strong as my usual UV resin and it doesn’t sting my nose like my usual UV resin. If I were allergic, I’d be in pretty bad shape right now. As it is, I just feel kind of gross even though I’ve gotten as much off of my hands as I can.

Washing your hands won’t get this off, you need rubbing alcohol, which is where baby wipes come in handy.

Are these for kids 8+?

I mean, it depends on the kid. I’ve seen kids that can outcook adults.

Giving this to me at that age or even as a teen would be a mistake. It would end up in my hair, up my nose, on the dog, in my mom’s purse somehow.... I am clumsy.

It depends on the kid, but in general, no. There are very few respirators that properly fit children.

This is for teens and adults who already know how to handle UV resin.

#mga miniverse #miniverse #uv resin #resin #bling bag toy #mga

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sergeifyodorov · 10 months

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Connor for the send me a character ask 👀

FIRST IMPRESSION

Have to preface this with the fact that I was really into baseball six or seven years ago when mcdavo was winning art ross number like. One or two. This was about 2016 or 2017 and i had the thescore app and I was looking at their simple ranked stats because i was bored, and instead of staring at the baseball ones over and over again I poked around on the other sports. I was not yet a leafs fan (born and raised in toronto so like, you support the leafs, but i wasn’t what i am now) and i looked at the points rankings and there was this annoying little orange background man in first. He had a nice 100 points and nobody else had that. And I was annoyed because I didn’t like that this Edmontonian fucker was doing better than anyone else. In retrospect it is very funny that my Oilers Hate Campaign is older than my actual hockey fandom.

IMPRESSION NOW

I have a lot of thoughts about Connor. I strongly disagree with the boring-sayers. He is not boring; he’s stiff and bland on camera out of both intention and The Tism and clearly has a lot actually going on once the panopticon is looking away (oxymoron statement but u know). Obviously he’s best in the world type whatever beat but thats like. The least interesting thing abt him. Dude is SO haunted it’s like you took a good portion of the sort of hockey curse an entire team typically develops and then dropped it right on his head like some sort of cartoon piano. But he is blissfully oblivious to the genre and is tragically determined to power through.

I think he’s kind of spineless ultimately and this is what makes him say such vanilla things and let himself get so thoroughly and obviously managed by lk1 and stuff. but also that he is very single-minded and knows what he wants and is unafraid to pursue that at the cost of neglecting everything else in his life. Which is a pretty self-destructive habit when you have curses and whatnot but again, completely unaware of that, so he’s just barreling head-on towards the void, head down skates pumping

His edges are decent but he’s a speed skater by trade far more than a figure skater… jason brown could win 5 art rosses but connor mcdavid could NEVER do riverdance!!!

Completely unrelated to my thoughts on connor at all but the endless font of ohl bodies and the churning mill of eteri girls. It’s the same it’s all the same

FAVOURITE MOMENT

don’t say mccheatgate it’s not worth it--

In all honesty. Either Connor mc lukewarm gay rights statement, the adorable little standbyme video at the draft where it’s him n mitch and dylan and none of them can really sing and they’re all so obviously terrified but trying to cheer each other up bad, or that one ad where they’ve dolled him up and made him act. And he’s like beach chair lounging in the middle of the ice and stuff

IDEA FOR STORY

i think the most ideal thing narratively to happen to davo is Catastrophe. like we all know he has this very rigid and unquestioned worldview because he has never bothered to really look outside what the nhl straighttrack/lauren kyle has planned for him it’s most compelling to just. completely upend that

mccareer changing injury is a good one but ive already seen that one said. i do have this scrap of 9734 floating around thats like. leon gets fridged and he cant live with oilerhood after that so he goes the 1 other place he can stomach himself being (torono) and then falls in deeply toxic-homoerotic-codependency love with am34. and obviously is forced to reconsider his entire worldview about the ticking clock and the impermanency of life and grief and curses and haunting because damn leo you’re supposed to be dead why do i keep seeing u everywhere etc. it is important for my NARRATIVES that mcdavid is widowed and/or divorced

UNPOPULAR OPINION

i realize this one in context to the last sentence makes it look like i hate drai. I do not hate drai drai is the best oiler and his only competition is nuge. That being said.

I had a friend (knows nothing about hockey) and she thinks that connor is hotter than draisaitl. And like. I don’t completely agree. But i mostly do agree. very shallow of me yes i know but davo is CUTE and his cringefail ghost swag is kinda HOT and the long hair/mcjesus flow was SEXY

FAV RELATIONSHIP

bobby orr is a family friend and he knows wayne gretzky quite well because of oilersness and stuff. so im going to say his relationship with All That Came Before is my favourite

2997 close second tho. Get more divorced

FAV HEADCANON

the tism is kind of verging on the nebulously canon but like. Im not going to formally diagnose a man i dont know and enjoy sexualising on the internet so it’s getting put in here

#asks #connor mcdavid

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alegzandryan · 3 years

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Prepping for a Ritual

So since I am doing these things as we speak I thought I would go through some ritual things that I find useful, for anyone that feels overwhelmed or unprepared for ritual work. I know tumblr and tiktok have pushed a lot of easy jar spells on us, but there really is something more to a ritual setting, even a simple one. And as it goes without saying, this is my personal idea of a guide and everyone is entitled to their own opinion and practice.

Get your supplies ready the day before the ritual. ESPECIALLY if you are going outside/somewhere outside your home. Collect all the things you will need and put them together. This will give you a day to remember all the things you forgot before it's time, instead of in the middle of your ritual

Choose what you are going to wear the day before, too. Some people take aesthetic very seriously but others dont. Either way, give some thought to what you are wearing. Is that crystal necklace good for what you are doing? Are those pants comfortable enough to sit for 30 minutes in? Comfortability is just as important as presentation for ritual, so dont wear that corset that hurts you after 15 minutes. You will need to focus on more important things.

Foot wear is also super underrated. Are you hiking 10 minutes into the forest to find a ritual spot? Wear boots. Are you in your house and want to go barefoot? Make absolutely sure you are not going to step on a ritual tool and make yourself bleed, or curse to some gods about the existence of legos in the middle of your ritual

Make some stuff for a cleansing/power bath. I usually assemble ingredients and things day before, then go to bed, and do a quick ritual bath before the actual ritual. Steep a hair rinse or charm a fancy body wash before hand so you dont have to focus on that spell, too.

Do a tarot reading/your preferred divination, before bed the day before you do a ritual. It can be quick or extensive, it doesnt matter. But it can be good to get some guidance before you are gearing up for a spell or ritual, and have some time to think about it before you are minutes away from it.

Prepare food and water, once again especially if you are going outside. Rituals can take a lot out of you depending on what you are doing, and food and drink are very easy and quick ways to help ground yourself if you are shaky or need help coming back to a relaxed state. If you are struggling, boiling pasta or microwaving stuff is the last thing on your mind, or maybe even your ability. So have some fruit snacks or granola bars or cookies or something-- easy to take and easy to eat-- with you. Trust me, this is more important than a lot of people realize. It's a good after-ritual practice and one you should be ready for

Think about your intent and purpose. Set aside some time day-before to do this, maybe 30 min to 1 hr I would say. Maybe make an entry in your BOS if you are the journaling type. This serves 2 functions: one is to charge your intent before the spell. It will give you more oomph and precision in your spell casting, or more prepared behavior if you are speaking to gods. Think about what you want to ask them, what you want them to know, how much respect you should give them, or what they may ask of you. What are you willing to do for them, and what are you not?

The second function is that it gives you time to back out of something. Not all spells are meant to be cast, and especially not if you are in a high emotion before it. Give yourself a day to prepare, an hour to think over, why am I doing this? SHOULD I be doing this even? There is nothing wrong with changing your mind. Doing things impulsively in magic isn't typically beneficial to the caster most of the time. Think through potential consequences, too. How could it back fire? How could it go right but in the wrong way? Is there a better way to get what you want? Can you add a caveat, or a time limit on the spell? Are you using parts of a closed practice and not really thought about it before now?

If you are doing spell work in the out-of-your-house-space-land, even if it is just like, in your appartment parking lot, the park down the street or even your own backyard, make sure someone somewhere knows about it. I know not everyone is out of the broom closet, but even if you just have to tell your friends you are stargazing or something, make sure SOMEONE knows and has a check in time for you. There are creeps and terrible people everywhere, and not to spook anybody, but doing magic can often attract animals or any assortment of beings who want to watch/investigate you. I have been given a heart attack by a baby antelope at dawn before. I have also been given a heart attack by a forest spirit asking wtf I was doing there. I know it doesnt exactly feel witchy to have your cellphone crammed in your waistband, but trust me, better safe than sorry. Be it humans or otherwise, doing magic in the dark in total secret is just not realistic to your safety. Take someone with you and have them wait in the car or around the corner if you can. Once again, make sure someone, somewhere, has a set time to call or come get you in, incase you get kidnapped or fae-napped. Your wellbeing is a much higher priority than any magic spell.

Also familiarize yourself with nearby wildlife. Even if you are in the city, check out what raccoon eyes look like in flashlight, or maybe if your suburb is prone to stray cats or dogs. Check out a rabies registry as well, so you know what kind of risk you are looking at around such animals. Rabid animals are actually more prone to being unafraid of human contact and will readily let a person touch them. Do NOT interact with wild animals. No, they are not a sign or a gift from your god. Most animals are curious about magic in general, but that doesnt make them not wild. Do not interact. If you are in a less populated space, you should also check out what kind of wild life is native to your area and how dangerous they are. Deer will startle themselves into you like getting hit by a BMW and bears and cougars can be active day or night, as well as Bobcats, snakes, or coyotes. Check out your local wildlife center for advice on how to handle what lives in your area

(Last outdoors advice, I promise) also check out what kind of myths and legends existed on the land you are on, ESPECIALLY if you live in north america. Knowing who's land you are on should be important to your practice anyway, and knowing what kind of creatures may be out there may save you some distress later. Indigenous cultures should be respected, and their tales can tell you what's around your area. And I dont care where the hell you live, if you hear whistling in the darkness/forests, it is one of several things coming to get you and none of them are good. Get gone and DONT whistle back. Or at all. No whistling guys. Bad.

For indoor rituals, make sure you wont be disturbed. Much like meditation, rituals are very dependent on focus and intent. Interruptions can mess with your outcome.

More indoor advice, checkout your lighting and ventilation well before you do your ritual. For instance, my altar is in a walk in closet-- there is no way in hell I am burning 4 candles and an incense in that room. I would have to do it in my living room or bedroom where there are windows, or find a way to eliminate the candles. Is the room dark enough to fit your ritual? Is it light enough that you can read your notes? (also make notes/write up a copy of the spell, it helps so much) Make sure you have enough light to see what you are doing properly.

I am a big advocate of "do not over cleanse your life, stop over cleansing" however, if that is something you do a lot of, make sure all your tools and whatnot are cleansed and prepared day before. You can shave a 2hr ritual down to 30 min if you get all of your prep work done day before, which is nice. And it once again gives you time to say "shit I forgot that one thing I need to cleanse" an hour later and still not interrupt your ritual because it is day before.

If you are an of-legal-age type person and doing some drug/alcohol part of your magic, make double sure you have food, water, and a buddy system. You may not need a designated driver if you aren't going out of your house, but you still need a designated sober person to make sure you dont like, astral travel out of your body and get replaced with a pod person, or get hurt trying to cast a circle with a ritual knife while high. Know your limits well before you use them in ritual and, I cannot emphasize this enough, have a friend to keep you under scrutiny incase something goes wrong and you need help.

If you are having the OTHER kind of must-be-of-age type of ritual, be sure your partner is well informed. Maybe have a dress rehearsal so you are both on the same page about mechanics and consent. Speed run through the general timing and motions, and talk about what each of you expect to get out of the ritual. Is it for bonding? Or are you using the energy to try to charge something? Is it for fertility? Are you both good to have ritualized sex (I know that seems like an obvious question, but you would be surprised by how many partners clam up about sexual things to try to not disappoint their partner). If you are a witch and your partner is not, be sure they know what to expect, and that they 100% want to do it even though it's not necessarily their practice and not just to be a people pleaser. If you havent done anything like this before either, tell them that, too. Honestly is 100% required here

And lastly, keep your cool. It's easy to get over excited or over anxious about this kind of thing, but honestly with a little prep time you have a high change of doing awesome. And even if you dont? That's okay too. Everyone makes mistakes, we all learn from those mistakes, and every single experience you acquire will level you up until you are the best at being you. Do what feels right, trust your gut, do some reading, and keep calm and witchy on.

#witchblr #ritual #ritual work #spell #spell work #witch tips #ritual prep #witch advice #chaos witch #eclectic paganism #wicca #diety work #diety ritual #witchcraft #chaos witchcraft #solitary witch #solitary witchcraft

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mi6-cafe · 3 years

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THE DRABBLES ARE IN! COME READ THEM AND VOTE!

GUYS, WE HAVE 15 AWESOME DRABBLES FOR YOU!

Our writers did an excellent job. All of them wrote 100-word drabbles based on this picture:

READ THEM ALL BELOW THE LINE AND WHEN YOU’VE PICKED YOUR TOP THREE FAVOURITES COME >>VOTE HERE<<

But how do?

anyone can vote (read the fics, pick your top 3 favourites and put that in the google form)

yes, even the writers can vote (they should, however, vote for someone other than themselves)

please, while you vote: also give anonymous feedback to the drabbles. we will send this to the writers after voting ends

why you should give feedback to the writers: we and they will love you forever but it won’t be creepy because you’ll be anonymous

READ&VOTE UNTIL SUNDAY 11.59PM Eastern, 4:59AM UTC!

Now, here are the drabbles!

Title: Arson Author: artsytarts / Misha Warnings: None

Summary: If there is one talent James Bond has, it’s to give his Quartermaster a headache.

“Can I ask you a question, 007?”

“Not like you’d respect my wishes if I said no, Q. Go ahead.”

“Why is it that you always, without fail, find some way to cause an explosion? I’m starting to believe you have an arsonist streak.”

“I don’t do it on purpose, it just… happens.”

“You do know that you’re supposed to keep things quiet, right? ‘Secret’. It’s in the job description.”

“Not my fault their base lay beneath a firework factory.”

“Wouldn’t have been a problem if you didn’t blow it up!”

“Debatable.”

“I’m sure you mean ‘yes, Q’.”

“Yes, Q.”

Title: Occupational Hazards Author: storm-of-sharp-things Warnings: none Summary: Q would willingly pay extra for the option to have a boring vacation…

Q sat back against James in the little rowboat and stared across the lake as bright jets of sparks shot up from the island. The fiery glow amid the trees was beautiful in the reflection of the dark water. James settled the blanket more comfortably around them, keeping the chill off their bare skin.

“I liked that cabin,” Q finally said.

James sighed. “What’s the probability that our rental cabin would be a hidden entrance to a secret arsenal of explosives?”

With a splash, Alec finally surfaced next to the boat, grinning wickedly.

Q scowled. “One hundred percent, I’d say.”

Title: Postcard Author: sunaddicted Warnings: none Summary: Bond stops in the middle of a mission for a view Q shouldn’t absolutely miss.

“Bond, stop dallying”

“Look, Q”

He sighed, squinting at the screen broadcasting the grainy images coming from the small camera that he had managed to disguise as a lapel pin “What exactly am I looking at?”

“Wait for it”

“Bond, need I to remind you that you’re on- Oh”

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

Q was enraptured in the blue fire shooting up towards the dark of night: he couldn’t remember the last time he had looked up at the sky, eyes full of awe “Yes, it really is” he admitted “Thank you, James. Move along now: your contact is waiting”

“Yessir”

Title:Flare Author: Hexiva Warnings: Angst Summary: Alec and James on a stakeout. One moment of hope.

What James remembers from that night in Canada is the fireworks. Fireworks reflecting off the lake as he sat in the dark waiting for morning when their target would walk by. Fireworks reflecting in Alec’s eyes, a manic gleam as he leaned in to adjust Bond’s hand on his rifle. And in the darkness between displays, they looked at each other, the instruments of their bloody work forgotten.

Years later, after everything, after the betrayal, James doesn’t remember who reached out first. All he remembers is the sound of fireworks as they kissed, clinging to each other in the darkness.

Title: Rest & Relaxation Author: SouffleGirl91 Warnings: None Summary: James and Q kiss goodbye to yet another security deposit.

“This was fun. We should do it more often.”

James watched an explosion illuminate the sky, showering white sparks on the carnage below.

“Did you hit your head?”

“What?” Q frowned. “No! Why?”

“You want to do this-” James gestured at the flames, “more often?”

Another loud crack, and the cabin roof collapsed, sending up a plume of smoke.

“Well, maybe not the part where your ex-boyfriend tries to burn us to death in our sleep…”

“So just the murder, then?”

“Pillock.”

James laughed. “If this is what holidays with you are like, I’d love to do it more often.”

Title: Efficiency Author: Anyawen Warnings: None Summary: Bond appreciates competence, whatever it wears.

James ignores the cold of the Canadian spring night, attention focused on the far side of the lake.

“I can get closer,” he offers quietly over comms.

“Stay where you are, Bond. I’ve got this,” Q answers.

Q’s frenzied typing stills, and James hears satisfaction in the silence a moment before an explosion rocks the lodge. He watches, bemused, as stray fireworks streak into the sky.

“The security on their firework storage facility needs work,” Q remarks dryly before utterly failing to stifle a yawn.

Another firework explodes, illuminating James’ fond smile.

“Not bad for a man in his pyjamas.”

Title: Isle of Bond Author: Warnings: none Summary: No man is an island.

They say, “no man is an island,” and they’re right.

Bond would disagree; would claim the title for himself.

He would say that he is a man for himself, as he trusts his life in the hands of friends. He would build a fortress of solitude, only to fly from it in a blaze of glory. He would fence his heart with spikes, spark, smirks, and sex. Until someone is unafraid to get stung.

Bond would lay life, death, heart, and gun at the feet of true love.

“They say, no man is an island, and they’re right,” Bond says.

Title: forget the past Author: scarytheory Warnings: none Summary: In the woods, in the middle of the night, two friends are trying to make peace with everything.

“This is ridiculous,” says Q, looking at Moneypenny. “It’s not New Year’s. Also, do you know how harmful it is to animals?”

She gives him the side-eye: “Your complaining already scared everything within ten miles of here. And it’s symbolic, actually. Because he’s not coming back, not to me, not to you. We need to start over, with a bang. Help me set this off.”

With a sigh, he does.

And here they are, watching fireworks in the middle of March, both feeling lost.

But as she slips her hand in his, he thinks that maybe they will be alright.

Title: Inferno Author: oldestcharm Warnings: fire Summary: Q appreciates the scenery. Bond isn’t pleased.

Q’s eyes are glued to the live feed from the helicopter. “This is very scenic,” he comments. Bond huffs. “Are you talking about the forest fire, the flare guns, or the volcano that’s about to burst now that I obliterated this guy’s lair?” Q hums, considering. “All of the above.” “I’m pleased to know you care so much for my safety.” “You’re just fine, 007,” Q assures him. “I’m standing in the middle of burning debris,” Bond points out. “There is a lake right beside you. Grab a bucket.” “You didn’t equip me with a bucket.” “Maybe next time then.”

#10

Title: Birthday Celebration Author: Nana-41175 Warnings: n/a Summary: Q is gifted with spectacular fireworks for his birthday by Bond

Q was sure he would dislike camping. He did not feel kindly toward the idea of a million insects descending upon him while they roughed it out in the woods. Plus, no internet. Hideous.

But he liked fireworks at dusk, especially when viewed over water. He was touched that Bond wanted him to see this: the lake, the dark circle of trees surrounding the warm, cheery glow of a campfire, the slender strands of bright light as they shot up toward the night sky.

Most of all he adored being in Bond’s arms as his boyfriend whispered, “Happy birthday, darling.”

#11

Title: In the End Author: Venstar Warnings: none Summary: One last goodbye.

Bond stared as the island of Mr. White burned away in a final fiery glow. So many things had been set in place there. Thoughts of Vesper slid through his mind, like a dark oil slick on water. Never to truly be erased. He felt something slide into his hand. A weapon. Something strong and flexible. He squeezed and felt bones move. Q. Something else that had been set in place. A gift, from one madman to another. Silva’s little cogwheel in the bigger scheme of things had inadvertently delivered Q to MI6…and James. He kissed those fingers. His weapon.

#12

Title: Miscalculation Author: Merc/moon_of_mercury Warnings: none Summary: Bond makes a strategic mistake. Q improvises to save the day.

“Gorgeous, aren’t they?”

“No, not really. They’re an unnecessary waste of money, spread heavy metals and other contaminants in the environment, cause noise pollution, not to mention the stress to animals and people who don’t like them–”

“Alright! Fine. I should have asked you first.”

“Or used your head for once. I told you; the cats and I are a package deal. If you plan for me you plan for them. I’m not having fun when my darlings are terrified.”

Before the mood sours, Q pulls James into a kiss.

“But we can always stay in. I’ll show you fireworks.”

#13

Title: How Does He Do That? Author: IrishWitch58 Warnings: Things blowing up, Canon typical violence, 006 and explody stuff Summary: Bond and Q watching the end of a 006 mission

Bond watched intently as Q focused on the terse commentary from the extraction team. Trust 006 to find one of the few primary forests left in Europe to play hide and seek with terrorists. Injured, bleeding but in possession of valued intel he’d been sent after, Trevelyan was being sought by both sides. One of the drone cameras blazed with light, flaring streamers rising from a central explosion. Q blinked, eyes watering before the screen dimmed.

“How does he do that every bloody time? I never issued him any explosives.”

Bond just shrugged, grinning. “When has that ever stopped Alec?”

#14

Title: Beacon Author: solarmorrigan Warnings: None Summary: Q is very good at reading even the smallest signs.

“Come on,” Q murmured.

Images flashed by on his screens: satellite feeds, CCTV stills, personal security system hacks, social media posts – anything he could think of. Windows overlapped, flashed, jockeyed for space and called for attention as new information poured in. Then, at last, a filter-covered photograph from one website or another, a tiny island lit up by a few explosive columns of light, drew Q’s notice.

Unexpected fireworks off the coast, the caption read.

Q checked the location. He checked the time. He smiled.

“There you are,” he sighed, and began the work of piecing together Bond’s trail.

#15

Title: We Don’t Need Fireworks Author: MrKsan / starrboned Warnings: Canon-Typical Violence Summary: Bond makes things explode. Q watches from afar.

The skies were ablaze with stardust and fire. It could’ve been beautiful, Q thought, had it not been his job to clean up the mess after.

Damn Bond and his dramatics.

Footsteps approached from behind, and Q couldn’t help but smile as an arm looped around his waist.

“007,” Gareth sighed. Q snorted, leaning into the warmth. Something exploded in the distance.

“Wish you could join him?” Gareth asked. “Share the action?”

Q turned his head, watching the fireworks reflect in his eyes.

“I got all the fire I need right here,” Q smiled, and leaned in for a kiss.

Go vote!

#LDWS #LDWS2021 #ldws drabble #james bond fanfiction #drabbles #signal boost

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dansantat · 3 years

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NOW WE ARE TWO: A Eulogy for My Father

Adam U Santat (October 21,1943 - April 27, 2021)

Today is April 27, 2021.

When I was very young and we lived in New Jersey my father took us to the beach and he lifted my tiny frame over his neck and we walked out into the ocean together. My mother watched us from the coast as we wandered 50 yards into the shallow sea. I was terrified of whatever lurked in the water convinced that sharks would come and eat us. My father gripped my legs and whispered, “I’ve got you. You don’t have to be afraid.”

I don’t exactly know why this particular memory rests so clearly in my mind, but it’s a good one. That was my father in a nutshell.

I interviewed my parents for a memoir I’m currently working on. This is what I know of my father.

He was born in the small village of Khlong Dan, Thailand on October 21, 1943, though the official birth certificate indicates October 27 because of a typo (21 sounds like 27 in Thai) He was the youngest of nine kids. His parents immigrated from China and started a merchant business. For fear of being racially ostracized by the local Thai people the oldest brother changed their name from “Lim” to “Santativongchai” (he found the word in an old book)

They collected rain water off the storm gutters in order to drink. He didn’t get hie first pair of shoes until he was 10 years old. They were sandals, really. Knowing facts abut Western culture was cool and he had an insatiable desire to learn everything he could about America. Coming to the United States was a dream of his obsessed with Elvis Presley, Paul Anka, and movies like “Shane” He admits to being spoiled by his mother and says he was lazy during most of his childhood, but was gifted in math and science. And he truly was. He attended medical school, paid for by his older sister, Yawanit, and he came to Newark, New Jersey in 1969 to do his internship.

My mother followed a year later

His first car was a Red ‘69 Camaro. No air conditioning. He ran the car into the ground because he was unaware of the fact that you had to change the oil. He never owned a car before then.

This was the American dream.

I was born in 1975 and they soon made a mass exodus to Southern California along with many of their Thai doctor friends with brief career stops in Wykoff, New Jersey and Hopedale, Illinois until we settled in our newly built four bedroom home in Camarillo, CA.

He worked for the state of California as a pediatrician, and eventually as a cardiologist, and then a psychiatrist continuing his education over the years to fill the needs of the state. He was an accomplished man in his field.

He loved golf, tennis, and buying things he would see on TV. He loved Ralph Lauren clothing, he owned one of the first Apple computers, and he loved making weekly trips to Los Angeles to buy classical CDs and audio equipment.

Three weeks ago I stepped inside my parent’s home for the first time in over a year. The COVID-19 Pandemic had kept us apart . “Stay at home. We’ll see each other after this is all over.” my parents told me.

Under normal circumstances I would happily avoid their company for fear of constant nagging about a plethora of reasons which mostly dealt with my weight, or my political views.

But this was different.

My father had been diagnosed with Stage 4 liver cancer and he returned home to hospice care. My mother was helping him get situated on his favorite couch because he refused to use the hospital bed that hospice had offered him and recommend that he use.

They say that doctors make the worst patients.

Besides his stubbornness my mother was angry at him for not putting up a fight, turning down Chemotherapy and Immunotherapy and opting to just let the cancer take him. She herself having been a breast cancer survivor over 25 years ago (along with living with lupus for 45 years) could not comprehend the thought of just giving up. But my father knew the odds. He had taken one look at the CT scan and he knew the primary source was in the liver and it has metastasized to the lungs, his jaw, and his pelvis.

His body was dying but his mind was still as sharp as a tack.

I understood the diagnosis, as well. When speaking to the doctor on the phone he did not mince words by emphasizing quality of life. My father’s days were limited, and I was there to make the most of the time that was left between us before he departed.

“I have one last question for you before I go.” he said to me.

“Anything. What’s your question, Dad?”

“How much....do you earn annually?”

My mother and I quickly glanced at each other and we both immediately let out a huge laugh. “HA HA HA! You have one last question and that’s what you want to ask me?!”

He was always curious about my finances.

He is my Asian father.

Normally, this type of question would be a point of heated contention and it would typically result in an argument at a restaurant, and yet, here he is living his last weeks and he STILL wouldn’t let the question go. And this time, without argument, I simply tell him.

Why deny a dying man his last wish?

“I’M SO PROUD OF YOU!” he shouts as we all share in a good laugh.

“I have one more question...”

“What is it, Dad?”

“Why do you always get upset when I ask you that question?”

This too would have normally resulted in a heated discussion, but I simply gave him an honest and simple answer, “Because you taught me that it was rude to ask people that question.” And I left it at that.

My mother gets up and heads to the kitchen and it’s in this moment that my father pulls me in closer to discuss more pressing matters.

“I don’t want you to worry about me. I’ve accepted my fate and I’ve lived a good life. I’m worried about your mom. I want you to take care of her after I’m gone.”

“Of course.”

“I’ve saved up a lot of money. Use it to buy a house with a guest house for her. Make sure it has a big yard so she can do her gardening and she’ll be fine.”

“I promise, Dad. I’ll spoil her.”

“Good.”

My mother returns to the family room with an assortment of shirts for my father to wear. I grab a blue button up collared shirt from Tommy Bahama. “This shirt actually isn’t too shabby.”

“It was originally $125 and I got it for $90!”

Always in pursuit of looking his best while also landing a great deal.

He is my Asian father.

“If you like the shirts they’re yours now. All of this is yours.”

None of the items that my father owned interested me. What interested me was giving him one last amazing experience before he was gone. The one thing my father truly treasured among all his possessions was a one of the finest wine collections I had ever seen. It contained over 500 bottles of wines he had collected over the course of twenty years housed in three separate wine refrigerators, which were spread throughout different rooms in the house and sent their electricity bill skyrocketing to the moon, and my mother’s nerves to the very edge of insanity.

“Hey, what do you think about going into your wine collection and we drink the most expensive wine you have?”

“No,” he says hesitantly.

“But don’t you want to know what you bought? Don’t you want to at least know what the best wine you own tastes like? I don’t think you should leave this world without enjoying your one great vice in life.”

My father looks away from me and mutters, “No...It’s yours now. All of it.”

This is not how I want it to end. I want him to have one last good memory.

My mother interrupts, “I’m hungry. What are we having for lunch?”

I try to keep my father focused on his bucket list. I’m hoping for just one last memory, “Whatever you want, Dad. My treat.”

He looks at me and says, “I want a Pink’s hot dog.”

My mother and I look at each other in shock. This request from a man who was obsessed with his blood pressure. A man who constantly avoided salt like it was Kryptonite to Superman was now requesting for one of the saltiest most nitrate rich foods in America.

“With mustard and relish.”

25 minutes later I returned home with three sodium bombs per his request. My father, who hadn’t eaten in three days, grabbed a hold of his hot dog, and ate the entire thing. My father, a man who did everything in his power to stave off death by cardiovascular disease to the point of obsession, was indulging in the one thing he avoided like the plague.

SALT.

As I sat on the couch and watched him eat his hot dog I could see the look on his face as he solemnly took each bite thinking, “What was the point of being so scared for all these years?” I took solace in the fact that for the first time in my life, I saw him as a person unafraid.

Later that day, a few of his closest friends came over to wish him well. I met them at the front door, “Hey, do me a favor. Can you see if you can make him agree to having one last glass of wine?”

It was a good idea.

HIs friends all walked in, paid their respects, and then peppered him with little hints like, “Hey, how about one last sip of wine before you go?”

My dad finally agreed.

“That fridge has the best stuff!” my dad shouted as he pointed to the fridge closest to the door.

I was not as knowledgable about fine wines as my dad and his friends were. That’s what Google is for.

I reached into the back of the fridge and found a bottle of Opus One from 1995.

This was $600 bottle of wine. It wasn’t his best but it it would do nicely.

The room let out an audible “oooooh” when I entered the room with the bottle.

His best wine glasses were brought out, we each poured a glass, and we toasted my father. We share stories about his life, he boasts to his friends about my accomplishments, and we are basking in a moment of complete harmony.

For this moment in time, I was his perfect Asian son.

He thoughtfully studied the peaks generated by the swirling of the wine on the edge of the glass

“It’s been a good life. No regrets.”

I was glad I could give him this.

This week I bought that house for my mom. I told my father this as I fulfilled his last dying wish while I held his hand.

“I’ve got you, Dad. You don’t have to be afraid.”

“I’ve got you.”

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your-turn-to-role · 4 years

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Feralness of the NPCs? If you like.

this one took me a bit longer, because as critrolestats calculated a couple months ago, across both campaigns, matt has over a thousand npcs, and we'd be here all year if i had to rank all of them 😂

but in my attempt to brainstorm all significant npcs from both campaigns (though i'm sure i'm forgetting someone i'm gonna immediately remember as soon as i post this), i've got gilmore, allura, kima, jarett, kaylie, cassandra, kynan, artagan, kiri, essek, dairon, orly, yeza, and pumat sol, so i can do those guys!

(not including villains, figures we don't know much personal about like the bright queen, or guest pcs, because they're still technically pcs. also not splitting by campaign because allura and artagan appear in both)

1 - kaylie motherfucking shorthalt. i adore her so much, and she is feral as fuck. granted, she's highly competent feral, she's good enough at the flute to challenge scanlan, and good enough at the violin to be a professional fiddler (which, i reiterate, takes so much dedication to learn), and aes adan/the meat man definitely didn't become as powerful as he did all because of scanlan. but also, is a thief and a conman and will 100% get in a bar fight with just about anyone, absolutely unafraid to speak her mind, and her approach to meeting her father for the first time was to work out all her grudges by trying to kill him with a knife. see also - her epilogue was deciding to finish the schooling she dropped out of, but at a really fancy academy so she could prove she's better than all the rich kids, just really rub it in their faces. i so wish i could have seen it.

2 - kima will fight you. kima will fight anyone. i don't know why all the short girls in cr are so feral, but like literally all of them are just pure feral condensed into three feet of girl, i love them. kima is no different, except she has a dragon god on her side and also is very gay and she's great

3 - artagan. now, feral in large part constitutes an unwillingness or inability to play by the rules of a functioning society, and that's all artagan's about. show him a rule and he will run the other direction until he feels safe and then come back invisibly and use that rule to fuck with people. he has the chaos part down too, and i was almost gonna put him in first place. however, feral also implies something of a willingness for violence, and artagan doesn't really have that? like he does to an extent, but in the words of mr matthew mercer, "even the nicest of fey are weird and have their dark sides". and as far as fey go, artagan has been shown to care about people a lot more than he's ever wished them harm. like he's still feral, because he's an archfey and the entire feywild is feral. but like... relatively tame feral. give the boy a pen and some paper and he'll leave you alone.

4 - kiri. she's adorable, and is baby, but is also a bird with a knife whose catchphrase has more or less become "go fuck yourself!". i love her.

5 - orly's pretty chill. but also, let's be real, there's a limit to how non-feral a tortle sailor and tattoo artist with bagpipes fused into his shell can be. also is just generally down for whatever illegal antics the m9 feel like getting up to

6 - cassandra. i debated for a while about putting her higher, because there's definitely an argument to be made for that, but you do have to take into consideration how well put together and fancy she is at nearly all times. however. cassandra at no more than maybe 13 was the only person to not get caught in the briarwood attack, rescued her brother from the dungeon where they were torturing him and keeping the bodies of her other siblings, guided him out, got nearly murdered, and lived in a whitestone full of zombies and villains and vampire mind control for five years. she's feral under the surface, she's had to be

7 - jarett. god i love jarett, i forgot about him last time someone asked me my fave c1 npcs but he's the best. anyway, captain of their guard, good at fighting, terrible liar, Definitely Has Never Dealt Drugs Before, will go kill a dragon with you. but like, as long as you're paying him. he's doing this for money, not just out of base feral instinct. Probably Needs A Break.

8 - dairon taught beau and earned her respect somehow, so you know they're at least a little feral. but also, widely respected expositor of the cobalt soul, competent spy, and at least moderately capable of keeping beau in line, so that knocks down their feralness level a fair bit

9 - essek is a fancy boy, and definitely is beholden to a lot of rules. the whole floating thing shows that, like, he's pretty damn far from feral for most of the time he's in rosohna. but i debated who was higher between all the wizards for a while, and i think just because essek is (or at least was) neutral evil and is so driven by his hunger for knowledge and to explore the darker parts of dunamancy, that does push him up the feral scale a little bit. there's very little essek wouldn't do when it comes to discovering secrets. (also, you know, his entire job as the shadowhand, we've seen involves some fucked up stuff, so he's far from squeamish or naive in that sense)

10 - allura is a wizard and a politician and a fancy person and generally rather chill. but as far as the wizards go, wins second most feral because she's been an adventurer. she took down thordak the first time. casually reminisces about how weird all adventuring groups are when vox machina are like licking the weird powder they found in the necromancer dungeon and mentions she was like that too. girl's seen some shit

11 - pumat is not an adventurer, and has no wish to be, and on the whole, is not feral at all. but also, pumat swole.

12 - kynan, wants to be feral? and then was, kinda, for a bit, and then severely regretted it. has had his moments, but on the whole is a Soft Boy

13 - gilmore. we're definitely getting to the definitively Not Feral end of the scale now. i mean, points for crushing a man to death with his mind, also points for "if you could find a way for me to become a dragon, that would be sexy". but gilmore is extremely concerned at all times with putting on that charming and excited mask, he puts a lot of value on his image and practically nothing will get him to tarnish it (even when thordak nearly killed him and he was still barely hanging on, he tried to use prestidigitation to make himself look better, like... those walls run deep). is also just a really genuinely nice person, cares a lot about people, is very empathetic, and again, refuses to show negative emotion if it will hurt someone else in any way. it's hard to imagine shaun gilmore as feral in any way, and if he did get close to that, it wouldn't be in front of other people

14 - yeza. now, points for the slightly mad scientist vibe yeza's got going on, it seems to be veth's type. but also, veth has 100% of the feral in this relationship and they both know it

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unproduciblesmackdown · 3 years

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@uberoll-oystercrackers putting this PT convo on blast just for the sake of switching to this format where u don’t have to break everything up via replies because [comically deep inhale]

honestly like idc idc i guess ppl are just like “uhh mytho’s got nothing going on b/c he has no feelings!!” like Yeah Correct, that’s a premise / inciting factor for this series and everything everyone’s doing lol, it’s only Boring if you don’t think about the character at all lmfao which i guess some ppl don’t, but like, there’s only 4 of them.....it’s Wildly Interesting that he literally has no feelings at first, like, for one thing it’s cool how there’s always the Idea of characters who don’t have emotions or act on them, but this is like the rare “realistic” situation where having no feelings means he needs someone to steer him around and make choices for him (and how Vulnerable that leaves him lmfao like episode 2 is wild but also that ppl just haven’t really realized that they Could just pick mytho up and pitch him into a wall, and fakir and rue are sort of careful neutral alliance keeping tabs on him) and you know, the whole s1 structure of mytho regaining both Capacity For / Experience of An Emotion and his sense of identity and by extent of all this his agency, and how like, Thematic everything surrounding this character is that’s reflected in the overall series like. trying to control someone for your own benefit vs being willing to sacrifice your own interests (and then some...) for their freedom & the Protecting Someone (And/Or Wanting To) As A Love Language that all the characters show for each other at various points & hope vs despair.......and like No Shit he’s dispassionate & passive b/c he can’t Feel Feelings & resultantly can’t make decisions or feel motivations but obviously he’s still Motivating other characters to act on his behalf, & there’s so much mystery & drama already in “yeah this guy you think is just a neat handsome guy is also an actual prince from a story who’s Real & sacrificed his heart in the fight with an evil giant raven monster that eats people & so he can’t feel anything or remember who he is” like damn!!! epic of him even if right now he can’t do much of anything on his own. i’m interested, and then i’m Interested every time in the Drama & Mystery of this person regaining parts of himself and completely rediscovering An Emotional Experience and how that is totally recontextualizing his entire existence for him.....

plus also even though “person literally lost heart via magic and doesn’t know what Feeling Things is” isn’t a We’ve All Been There situation i was like oh and you know it’s not like what mytho’s got going on isn’t potentially Relatable....can get into a side essay about dapressione and trauma and other types of stuff that can make it seem like someone can’t/shouldn’t have full access to their feelings / self / agency &/or it’s Dangerous if they try.....whew

but continuing on YEAH ugh just completely fascinated with mytho the Entire Time actually lol like, i’ve tended to lose steam in early s2 b/c he’s sort of Less involved beyond the [hehe time to cause some trouble in this particular ep] role lol but even so it’s like well it’s kinda fun when at least somebody’s being a bitch who lives for drama lmfaooooo & we get mytho Struggling Internally & sometimes punching through that way but again it’s like yeah oops the guy was basically autonomous but zwoop here’s a problem where that doesn’t mean shit anymore lol b/c he’s got this alternate evil self steering the ship all the time now lol got em.....the Peak of that i guess is where we get to have an epic swordfight between raven!mytho and fakir like you know what fuck yes!!! the intrinsic drama of that lmfao!!!! and then it’s like “oh no :/ loving the drama? that’s just what drosselmeyer wants” except Not b/c actually what makes it totally rule is that it’s this chance for Real Mytho to come through for the sake of protecting fakir (tbt “i wonder what i think of you, fakir”...) and really like that being what prompts fakir’s “you know what, even though before i was afraid my role as a knight would kill Me and i’m afraid my coincidental(?) role as a guy who can Reality Write could kill Anyone Else, i gotta try b/c that’s the only thing i could possibly do here and i want to try protecting everyone else b/c everyone else including mytho is protecting Me” and like augh everyone is so Thoughtful about how to try to help mytho out even as like, they can’t hardly interact with him or undo the situation lol.....as you’re getting into the series finale and everyone’s just outright Voicing things and you get “i/we want to protect mytho” like 32x and it’s beautiful each time ;___; like and well sorry but him & his heart/lack of are also the heart of the whole story here.....

and you know what *i* want to protect mytho, sympathizing with all the characters like fuck yes you’re so right, this guy rules, episode 6 aka The Fear Episode is SO good, like, you’ve gotten kinda used to the episodic format here, ep 5 did sure also make it obvious that things are Building on what’s happening prior here & that there’s stakes and stuff but it’s such a shakeup, like, that maybe just kinda sneakily dipping in and out of the arena giving back a piece of his heart until it’s done with, no problem, Isn’t Gonna Happen, and again, the Drama of it all......that the heart shards are yeah kind of their own People who are these fractions of mytho’s self and the way you interact with them is gonna like, affect things, since tutu didn’t like “resolve” things with that heart shard and just kinda got him on a technicality there lmfao so it’s like, yeah not only does mytho have a more general / abstract cause to be afraid of tutu & her bringing all these Unknowns & completely new things to him / changing things up and apparently introducing conflict, but you’ve gone and gotten his capacity for fear all recently riled up and specifically afraid of his interaction with You from 5 sec ago, and how could anyone know this mysterious magical being giving you Negative Feelings is like, Safe......and i’m sure it’s all compounding here, like, it’s Wild to be suddenly experiencing A Feeling for the (seeming) first time, and that in itself sure could be Scary, he just hasn’t had the proper emotion available with with to Be Afraid, now he’s gotten back a freshly stoked (capacity for) Fear and how off the shits it must be to be afraid for the first time anyways, or to be feeling the other stuff for the first time, and who knows what Unfun Feelings could come next, there’s a lot to freak out about.......and not like it’s trying That hard to never suggest like oh fakir's not that bad even though he’s technically an antagonist at the start b/c of being at odds with / against the protagonist, it’s pretty telling there lol like he’s unhappy with mytho having feelings again at all and has already been getting mad about it but is just being Helpful here and trying to comfort him, like aw that’s neat i think it’s nice, and again throwing it back to “I Wonder What I Think Of You, Fakir” you get fakir reassuring mytho that nobody but him is around, and mytho having this capacity for Fear is choosing to confide in fakir re: what he’s dealing with here (not that this would on it’s own be some guarantee that mytho’s Right to be unafraid of fakir, but, knowing all we eventually know...) like again lol it’s funny that drosselmeyer’s loving the Drama of mytho only having regained Negative Feelings like, i mean i’m soaking it in as well but it’s like, that guy’s all about Angst and it’s like no im here all about the Hurt/Comfort more like, thank you lmfao

it’s also SO good how it’s like, the next episode is turning around & giving the story a way forward not by like, oh let’s just counteract this Fear mytho’s struggling with by returning the....emotion of Courage i guess, but rather by giving him back Curiosity to ultimately lead to him actually seeking a conversation with tutu.......and it’s like AUGH it’s soooo fun that he goes to that river and has a conversation with his own heart shard lmfao like that’s you!!! and that You does not realize you’re them!!! that’s wild and i love it......wait i took low res screenshots when i rewatched this a few weeks ago lmfao

i Love it lmfao like it’s Such a good choice to have him not only have lost his Emotions but also memories / knowledge of who he, himself, even is.....like yeah man it was all on you to fight this heart eating raven monster!!!!!!!!! which you know, it’s also Fun that earlier in that episode when he and fakir are hanging out in the secret Problems Mill (which....fakir is hilarious like that lmfao. whole other tangent here like ppl are not only rolling with Animals As People but stuff like “yeah fakir might just be like ‘oops gotta go!’ and whisk mytho away to various out of the way Locations” like lmfao these teens have some free rein, but it’s nothing compared to s2 where it’s like “They Were Roommates but ig fakir tried to kill mytho who’s now being really dramatic and weird which is v different from before and maybe he’s in love with that one random dude who’s around now, which sucks for everyone else, oops now he’s just like Vanishing for god knows how long at a time it’s fine!!!!” lmfao like god. ballet school just is like that sometimes...) anyways Yeah that mytho’s been having nightmares about the raven and fakir is just going like IT’S FINE JUST DON’T THINK ABOUT IT lol and knowing fakir is also being pretty driven / restricted by fear, reasonably, as he thinks (well. and is correct) that he’s The Knight and his fate is literally written as “yeah if the story gets going and you’re a part of it you’ll just be killed” like yeah, oof......Wonder What I Think Of You Fakir like yeah AND he is that knight you actually did know who was suddenly killed trying to protect you and he’s sorta accepted that role again except he’s not really a fan of that Being Killed thing so here we’re having some issues in his misguided approach here re: Mytho Should Not Get His Heart Back, but he’s also trying to protect them Both from the story, and he’s only So Willing to act Against mytho, like, well hey thanks for apologizing after you hit him and then like, not doing that anymore lol, v reasonable how he’s struggling here lol where he’s trying to Protect mytho but the story a) wants to invite tragedy and b) has already said that The Knight has been / will be killed and can’t actually protect the prince within the story, also c) he’s just like one random high school guy out here......and also that it must just be kinda hard to adapt to this changing situation where mytho Is regaining this sense of self and motivation, but for like the past decade or whatever he Has needed fakir to just be in charge and tell him what to do all the time and, if he had the sense of what it was to trust someone, trust fakir to just always be acting in his best interest, but then mytho’s idea of his own best interest a) starts to Exist and b) is at odds w/fakir’s b/c also c) he doesn’t have All his feelings yet, Or all his memories, while fakir is like “noooo i know the story”.....like there was never any need to just like tell him he sucks at random times lol but it’s also kind of funny that’s just part of fakir’s shtick, calling mytho a dumbass one more time when he’s just fully himself as The Prince again lmfaooo. but prior to that, surely fakir could wonder what mytho thinks of him (or potentially Could think of him) too.......it’s just soooo good when mytho is like, expressing things verbally while trying to work through / figure out Feelings and even ones that he doesn’t have back yet, and it’s always fun how that inevitably throws off whatever character he’s musing about this to......including whenever ahiru’s just like “oh fuck yes he can do this b/c he has more feelings back now, that rules” and/or “aw :( he’s struggling w/this b/c he only has Some of his heart back”

and also that reminds me it’s SO good when the characters just kinda get to Do Something together lmfao like. ahiru and rue hanging out when looking for mytho that one time, iconic stuff, mytho and ahiru hanging out in the previous episode, iconic, maybe it kills me that in the first ep of s2 you have mytho saying ahiru’s his friend and the only person he feels like he can tell anything (and ahiru feeling bad she hasn’t Told Him Everything lol) and then he basically never gets to interact with her again knowing and as himself like Scream it’s fine ;v; !!!!!! let these people spend more than 3 seconds together Interacting lmfao it’s soooo good when they do :’0

and THEN you get into how there’s all this stuff re: The Story, like, fakir is the reincarnated knight, ahiru is the duck given tutu’s abilities Via a piece of mytho’s heart, but we had the original knight and tutu in the story as these actual ppl who we only hear a Little bit of lore about, but mytho actually knew / knows, and like, the original genesis for tutu only being on 1 Page of the story and apparently drosselmeyer doesn’t even really put any thought into what her motivations could be lol like yeah idk whatever she wants to marry the prince or whatever so that’s why she loves him and Says It and disappears......and like we have almost No direct info about her but uh nbd at least some of her actual essence is actually now an intrinsic part of mytho’s actual heart and specifically embedded in the heart shard of Hope, like damn!!!! you Know there was something more Real and Complex going on there and i love it so much.......and the original Knight, lohengrin.....might have been doomed to be unable to protect mytho with his sword, but there’s other ways to protect that guy and Someone needed to be doing it.......i’m just like wow mytho’s gf and bf!!!! and they both sort of died but hey. there’s still a lot to think about

so yeah lmfao love that you can originally see this series like, a decade ago and here it is like damn still lying down / yelling / generally riled up about mytho and just having So Much to think about / appreciate from this series like. it’s so Singular and has so much going on.......cherish it and i’m just still anytime like [epcot vine voice] Mytho...........

#uberoll-oystercracker #princess tutu

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wlw-lovestruck-fiction · 3 years

Note

Hi Evoe, can I ask for you to write this MCxVinca fic? The request is where mc made deal with demons by giving up ability to feel touch to obtain darkness and light powers so she can keep up with Vinca and her friends. However, demon magic corrupt mc’s soul. Mc went dark and betray her lover by using Vinca’s knife to kill her so she can become Pride and take her mind reading power. Mc made it looks like it’s from Vuzgamad’s ambush and claimed that Vinca made her a successor before her death

PART 1

Written by: @evoedbd

WARNINGS: Violence Blood Broken Bones Psychological Abuse Verbal Abuse Strong Language A whistle Morbid Idolization (testing how this is received before putting the darker stuff out) *************************************

What Yvette dragged out of the bar was not human. Not anymore. It was a tapestry of torn, mutilated flesh. Of fury and indifference mixed into the most toxic being to draw breath. It was pain personified, five foot two and perhaps 100 pounds soaking wet worth of utter agony. Something so utterly twisted, so broken, that just a glance could cause tears to leak from one’s eyes like blood from a serial killer’s knife.

The woman’s head was almost entirely void of hair, covered instead by rows of raised scar tissue from hairline to the back of her neck. Burned and clawed into the skin. The faintest hint of grey bloomed between each row, stubborn black hairs regrowing amidst the pain. This only made the stark white tissue stand out more prominently, especially against bronze-tinged skin. The self-mutilation didn’t end there. Her now pointed ears were uneven, the healed edges bubbly with regrown flesh. Reminiscent of a goblin; an inhuman monster. It was not a clean, surgical modification. Instead, it appeared as if earrings had been torn from open wounds. Again and again until even calling her ears human was a stretch of the imagination. Through each was ring, jewellery far finer than her actual appearance. An echo from the past, of someone else’s past.

Rae Wren, or what was left of her, gave no fight. In fact, she strode with a wicked smirk across her lips, a glimmer of unnaturally sharpened, wolf like teeth gleaming behind blackened lips. The pattern of teeth continued along her lower face to her ear, carved like the lines across her head, then outlined with ink, each point a tattooed monstrosity representing those she had killed. They weren’t for human lives; those were far too simple. Too easy to erase and forget. To replace. One warm body was like another. Breakable. Disposable. Prisons of utter filth for her to pick and choose. It was almost like shopping for chastity belts or cock traps to keep her little demonic slaves in check whilst she played. And played, and played and played… or was it murdered? She didn’t even remember anymore. No, the wolf like grin permanently marked upon her flesh with scar and ink was very special. Each tooth was a life of host and demon both, of those who had seen the end. The final moments. The sacrifice. When Pride had become Rae’s mantle. When Rae had ceased to be anything and everything.

The other demons and humans had their places across her body. Each a line for the demonic veins that should have marked her body. Everybody knew she was a demon, even demons. At this point, she was a whisper in the realms of hell. The devil awaiting every demon who dared rise. Lucifer may have been the terror of man, but Rae, but the Proud Wren, was the terror of nightmares. It had once been said no mortal could make a demon beg, could make a demon fear or willingly return to hell. Rae had taken those words to heart, then proven otherwise. She had proven again, and again and again and again. Until her mere name was proof enough. Nevermind her loving attentions to her adoptive siblings.

But apparently someone still didn’t get the memo.

“You can’t keep doing this, Rae!” Yvette’s words were low, a hiss as much as a sigh. That was so Yvette. So broken herself, so naive. So hooked on her dreams and submerged in her fears. Once, Rae had admired Yvette’s strength. How she was unafraid and stood up to demons. Now… now Rae knew the truth. Yvette was the worst type of coward. She wasn’t even in denial. She was so utterly oblivious that it was almost laughable. Simply sitting next to Yvette for five minutes was a hoot. Popcorn worthy… if popcorn had still had flavour.

“I doubt anybody is going to stop me. You won’t.” Rae retorted, lips peeling further away from her teeth. The reveal of pink may have been a relief, a reminder of her humanity. Yvette flinched as Rae’s artificially forked tongue poked out, splitting around a splatter of blood across her lip. Blood which was not her own. Catlike, she lifted her bloodied knuckles to her tongue, smirking around her mouthful as she lapped at her tarnished skin.

“You’re going to get sick off of that.”

“Well, heaven won’t want me, and the devil has a restraining order against me.”

“Ever wondered what it must take for demons to fear you.”

“I did dethrone your pathetic little act, didn’t I? Hashtag, so sad.” Rae mocked, her lips turning into an exaggerated pout. One she emphasised with fingers pulling on the corners of her mouth and a sluggish drop of her shoulders.

“If you keep doing this, I won’t come for you. I’ll leave you to deal with the police again. Then you won’t get to continue your little vigilante act, Rae.” Yvette’s tone was firm, her brows lowered dangerously over blazing azure eyes.

Oh, it was adorable. A good effort. Truly. Solid jaw, dangerous eyes, crowding her space. All an A plus mark in big girl intimidation…

“You won’t.” Rae laughed, almost ready to collapse with her malicious mirth.

“You’ll try, sure, but we both know you’ll fail. You need me, Yvette. I’m sure only one who can ever truly understand you. The others try, they really do, but none of them have really been there… have they? You and I are the founders of the killed your girlfriend club… so, unless you want to encourage some homicide of the human variety, you’re stuck with me as your therapist. Of course, you could always fix that with just a little kiss. Get your special badge back.” Rae taunted, leaning a little closer with pursed lips, taunting further.

She was so close; Rae could feel it. The way Yvette’s body warmed, teasing Rae’s skin like sunlight on a spring’s day. Refreshing. Comforting. Just like a hug from the latest murder victim. Who cared if the hug was post-mortem… wait, perhaps the warmth was blood then… maybe Yvette’s little tantrum was more akin to demon dust fluttering across Rae’s naked body? Warm with death, ripe with fear and justice… the tingly kind of delightful. Fun and morally responsible. A two for one deal.

“You didn’t kill her. That wa-”

“My own deal to help save your girlfriends ass. I chose to help family and look where it got me. No family. No fiancée. Very little humanity. I’ve gotten more reward for hurting people than I ever got for helping… so thanks for the reminder, but you already know the drill. I’m naughty, you come play mommy, your breathing reminds me I lost everything I ever loved saving your sexy finger warmer. It’s a whole thing.” Rae sighed, pausing long enough to lift a hand to her shades between shrugs.

Cold, lifeless eyes gazed from behind expensive sunglasses, the ones from Vinca Wren’s last project. Rae’s eyes were so scarred, so utterly void of humanity that even Yvette shuddered. Rae’s pupil was more reminiscent of an ink droplet, running into the whites in little sickly veins. The pattern of an infection. What once had been soft, gentle browns had hardened, as if the pigment had been drawn from them until only the yellows of the shade remained. Rare veins and streaks of brown remained, lightning bolts within the everlasting storm of grief.

“If you hate me so much…”

“Why stick around? Oh Yvette, its nothing personal, babe. Pride’s honor.” Rae began, pausing to slide those precious shades into a hardcase hidden within her jacket. Her hands were so gentle with those shades, fingertips lingering as if she might project her touch through time and space, as if somehow Vinca might feel her affections. A moment the world allowed her before the sound of footsteps echoed. The snap of the case was the snap back to reality, a snap which echoed off of the old brickwork. The first beacon. The second was a silver whistle, chipped and worn, one which Yvette was already reaching to slap out of Rae’s hand as the fallen assassin laughed.

“You’re just the best bait.”

Then the whistle sounded.

A short blow, then a longer one, then a short one again. An SOS. One wavering with Rae’s laughter. The whistle sounded only thrice before it was slapped aside, Yvette huffing and puffing furiously.

“You’re a special kind of cunt, Rae!” The Greed assassin growled; decorum lost to her outrage. Rae could already see it, the torn loyalties waging war within Yvette’s blazing blue eyes. The misguided belief in Rae despite everything. It was so obvious, from clenching jaw to pained eyes, how desperately Yvette wanted to avoid this. How it pained her to let Onyx suffer around the corner, just as much as it pained her to war against Rae. In the past, Rae may have broken at such a thing, at such a display. At Yvette letting her heart beat for two sides. For a sister and a lover. Now, it was all merely an annoyance. Not what Rae needed.

“Dawww… don’t you want to go save your girl?” She cooed, before raising her voice.

“Here, puppy, puppy. We know you like it rough, so come play… I may not be Dorran, but I can probably hit as hard. I can even entertain your emotional whore kink!”

The shing of a blade leaving its scabbard was the only warning Rae had before she was sent staggering by a burst of heat delivered in a solid punch to the gut. Before she could even right herself, the slap of the scabbard across her face forced her back another few stumbling steps. There it was. The snap. The goal she’d had for weeks. Weeks of volatile behaviour. Misbehaving a little too close to Yvette’s secrets. Once, it was a line she’d never have crossed. Once, those young lives held meaning to Rae. All life did. Now? Now it was all ash in her mouth. A thirst she could never slake, not that she truly wanted to. Afterall, Assassins fought demons, and Rae had worked incredibly hard to perfect her mutilated appearance. To leave no illusions that she was truly a demon in human skin, even if none from the depths of hell would touch her… well, now she had her own little slice of hell. All fired up, enraged, protective even. Lunging with her blade with the intent to harm. Maybe this time, it would be enough.

Yvette was not like the other assassins. They all fought with a sense of honor. Each had things too low for their heroics. Yvette held no such qualms. She struck high and low, lunging and twisting. A single foot out of place was punished by blade and heels, driving Rae backwards. It was an exquisite dance. Duck. Weave. Twist. A thrust of Yvette’s blade. Countered by a duck and a jab to the ribs. A quick hand was at Yvette’s wrist, twisting her arm aside, tearing her guard down for Rae’s following punch to the tender gut. Break it down, bruise it, take the air from Yvette’s body. For her efforts, Rae received a backhanded slap in response. The echo of gloved hand against flesh was accompanied by matching screams, two immensely powerful individuals reduced to hissing and screeching like fighting cats in heat.

Yvette was again the first to strike out, a wild slash of her blade. Rae ducked, falling right into the precise thrust of the scabbard straight to the collar. She shoulda read that. It was too easy to reach out, to capture every thought flittering through Yvette’s mind. From there, it was a different dance. Yvette could no longer land the blows, yet Rae’s shorter range kept her from truly inflicting any harm. The dance switched from snakes slithering under one another’s guard and striking out with fast blows into wolves circling one another. Assessing. Manoeuvring. Rae didn’t need to keep her eyes on Yvette, in fact doing so was playing the game. So, Rae waited, allowing Yvette to slink around her, letting Yvette find the faux opening… then launch.

Yvette was fast. Rae was faster. A twist later she had her left arm hooked over Yvette’s, forcing the blade to pass her. A swift toss back of her head saw Yvette’s nose broken, bloodied. Tears blinding those remarkably clear blues. Snot and blood choking her. Rae followed through with her elbow, driving it straight into Yvette’s throat. It was calculated. Too hard would kill her, too gentle wouldn’t be enough to drop her. Greed fell to her knees, spitting blood over Rae’s boots. Pride wasn’t done. A tug on Yvette’s trapped arm had Greed falling into Rae’s rising knee. The blow sent Yvette sprawling to the ground, into the grease and muck like some common drug addict. Like the homeless orphan Yvette had once been.

“How does it feel, Yvette? To be back here?” Rae mocked, kicking the lethal blade aside. The clattering of the weapon filled the alleyway, a sound far too familiar for Rae. The Pride assassin flinched, drawing back from the sound for only a moment. Then, it was so much worse.

“Rae! STOP!”

Rae’s teeth clashed together, biting back the enraged scream as she turned towards her worst nightmare.

Onyx Wren. Five foot nothing of gorgeous blonde bombshell. A little fuckwit wearing the face of Vinca… only Onyx couldn’t wear it right. Her bold, neon makeup was a child’s game at beauty, like a toddler playing with mommy’s makeup from her teenage Scene phase. Onyx was all cherub and sweet, with eyes the colour of sunlight through an ocean wave. Figures Onyx would represent the water beneath the skies that Vinca embodied. She was never better than Vinca, never appreciative. She’d let Vinca endure it all. To save her own pathetic skin, Onyx had let Vinca be condemned. Over and over. Now, she pranced about, the good girl. The grieving sister. Forgiven for putting her abuser above Vinca, even in death. Onyx was the sister who let Vinca throw everything that truly mattered away and repaid her with vicious rumour.

She dared? She fucking dared! She dared show her face after everything, to rip into Rae’s chest all over again. It was a holocaust in her heart, memory after memory dragged into the chamber feeding her agony. Each felt like a death all over again. A blow to her chest unlike any physical pain. A lance into the side of a great beast, until said beast was reduced to a feral being. Onyx’s fucking face took Rae’s breath, brought her to her knees before the jeering crowd. It tore Pride down, leaving only a screaming, sobbing wreck behind.

“Fuck off!” Rae screamed, tearing her vocal cords with the strength of her cry. It was torn from her churning, bruised gut, loud enough to drown out the monotonous drill of cars. The former Mechanic howled, hands brought to her scarred head, nails dragging down the scars in practiced desperation. The teeth carved from the corner of her mouth to her ears began to glow, illuminated a deathly bone white. The glow spread, radiating across every scar, until the veins stood stark against her skin, a homage to the demon she swore was within. It was a terrifying duet with every tattooed line, shadows now. Or rather, the complete absence of colour and light. The void left behind in Rae’s heart given physical form.

“You have to let go, Rae. Please. We all lost-”

“I CAN’T!” Rae’s cry cut Onyx’s sentence short. Her hands fell to the ground, fingers clawing the asphalt as if she might find something, anything, to settle her tornado of an existence. On her hands and knees, the Pride assassin once more looked small. Broken. Defeated. So lost and helpless. Her back curled, shoulders caving beneath the weight of her angst. Her forehead met the ground, taking comfort in the greasy coolness for a few seconds before she defiantly lifted her head, fixing Onyx with a look of pure, seething hatred.

Envy looked cut to the bone, deeper than all of Rae’s torments. All her jabs and digs. Every secret she had gleefully sung to the other Assassins, publicly tearing Onyx down. Publicly shaming her, shaming all of them. All the assassins were fucking idiots. They hadn’t seen what was unfolding right beneath their noses, too content to gripe about a harsh leader as Onyx begged for him to stop. As she concealed his darkness to preserve a fantasy. As she was morphed into his little punching bag. His little victim. The Harley Quinn to his Joker. With Onyx’s secrets, Rae had torn all the Assassins down, brought them to their knees weeping, then strutted across the corpses of their self-esteem. She wasn’t Vinca. She didn’t care about these people. About what was right and wrong. They’d all condemned Vinca. All willingly cast her out rather than face reality. If they hadn’t, if Onyx had just spoken…

“It’s all your fucking fault.” Rae no longer sobbed, she snarled, a tapestry of shadow and light, a monster digging into Onyx’s brain, wrenching everything to the forefront in the hopes just one memory flashed across Onyx’s conscious.

“You may have been happy to let her go. I refuse to. I won’t. You’ll have to tear her from my cold, dead ha-” whatever melodramatics Rae had planned were interrupted by an enraged scream, followed by the swing of something straight into her temple. The Pride assassin teetered, forearms trembling to hold her weight for but a moment before she fell, surrendering to the abyss.

Perhaps this time, things would be better in the void.

****************************** 3 years Ago ******************************

She was so tired. It was something which went deeper than a mere sleep could repair. The weight of the world was constantly upon her shoulders; dragging her chest down towards her gut. Her heart felt as if every beat was sluggish, a constant painful rock in her chest, yet one she could not feel. Rather, she felt the absence of her heart, the pain stopping only there, whilst her lungs were further tormented. Even here, with sweat running down her body, leaving her hair stuck to her forehead as if it were a layer of paper mashe upon a child’s sculpture. Even with her blood rushing through her veins, muscles screaming with ever hurried stride she took, her heart did not warm. Each beat sent a pulse of cold through Rae’s body, a seeping despair she was continuously clawing her way out of. Only to find herself somewhere far… darker.

Tendrils of that darkness drove her onwards, pulling and pushing each muscle as Rae desperately just tried to stop. She was so tired. All she wanted to do was collapse, to fall into Vinca’s arms and just feel the embrace. Feeling. It wasn’t so long ago Rae had taken it for granted. Now, it was simply gone. Forever. It was her sacrifice for the abilities she had gained. For what had allowed her to save Vinca time and time again. What had allowed her to save Onyx, Vinca’s twin sister. The power over light and shadow, and the temperatures they could bring. Durability to stand against Vinca’s foes, the strength to protect. If only such a thing hadn’t cost so much. Touch. The ability to ever feel another’s touch ever again. It had rendered Rae’s hands useless, for no longer could she feel a pulse, nor how deep wounds were. Without touch, she couldn’t heal anybody. Couldn’t help them. Couldn’t feel when she hurt them. All she had ever been, gone. Taken from her in a deal she had barely understood in her desperation. She’d tried. She tried so hard to continue on. To pretend touch wasn’t so important. But, night after night, she watched Vinca’s pleasure without ever being able to feel it. She held Vinca close, without ever being able to feel her. The simplicity of holding hands was robbed from her. No, not robbed. She’d given it up in a foolish moment of insecurity, convinced it was to save Vinca’s life. To save Onyx’s life. That was a pretty small comfort now. She just wanted a hug, darn it! No, not darn it. Darn was close, but not what she truly wanted to say. Fuck it. FUCK. IT. She just wanted one fucking hug she could feel. Just one to remind her she was still tethered to this world.

“I’ve got you.” Vinca’s huff in Rae’s ear was accompanied by a sense of flying. Of floating. There was no more pain in her muscles, that migrated to her chest. She wanted to scream, to tell Vinca to stop. That this was wrong. This was all a trap. All dangerous. Something was screaming within her, writhing against the darkness, the tendrils… fighting to be the voice dominating her brain. Even that was murky. The river of the Nile running red with blood. Her blood. Vinca’s blood… maybe if it was Vinca’s she wouldn’t be alone anymore.

“-I wouldn’t be… I’d feel her again. Something. Anything. It’s not like she told me. Nobody told me! Vinca cheated this and couldn’t even tell me until I’d already paid the fucking price… does she really deserve- NO! Stop! What am

I doing? I love her! This isn’t me! I c-can’t hurt her!-”

Rae’s war didn’t end there. A droopy blink later, she registered the feeling of metal beneath her fingers. A kunai. One of Vinca’s weapons from her collar. The blade so close to Vinca’s jugular vein… whilst the Assassin was oblivious. So utterly clueless, or so utterly trusting of her devoted fiancée. Fiancée… they had a life together, a life to live. Years to figure this out. All Rae had to do was hold on, was fight as hard as Vinca had.

“It’s back, Vinc… I almost…”

“I know. Your heart isn’t cold yet, Unco, so stay with me. There’s still time, and I will never give up on you. It’s not our style.” Vinca’s voice was firm, the great wall of China between Rae’s doubts and her conscious. It was only the sound of lips smacking and the momentary loss of breath which let Rae know Vinca had leaned close, had pressed a kiss to her lips. What type of kiss? Was it one flavoured with desperation? Was it biting, Vinca demanding Rae’s submission? Was it tender and sweet? The brush of morning breath and vulnerability only Rae ever experienced? Bitter tears of frustration fell silently from her dark eyes, bathing Vinca’s shoulder as they continued further into the warehouse.

“Yeah… not our style.” Rae muttered in agreement. After all, what else could she do but believe?

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tvandenneagram · 4 years

Text

Avatar the Last Airbender: Toph - Type 8w7

Toph is strong, confident and assertive. She is protective of her friends, independent and unafraid of confrontation.

At her best, Toph uses her strength to improve others lives by teaching Aang how to master earthbending and by helping fight in the war. With age, Toph retains her no-nonsense and upfront personality, but is more likely to show people a softer side. For example, while she openly criticises and enjoys beating Korra in combat, she also lets Korra hug her once she earned her respect.

At her worst, Toph is abrasive and aggressive. She is unconcerned with other people’s feelings and does not care if what she does or says hurts the people around her. For example, she intentionally steals Aang’s staff to try and agitate him.

Toph wants to be strong, free and independent. Before she met the gaang, Toph’s parents treated her like she was fragile because she was blind. She was very sheltered and most of the residents in Gaoling did not know she even existed. Toph wanted to act out against her restrictive parents and take on additional adult responsibilities. She also wanted to gain more freedom, as she felt trapped by her parents. When she was trapped in a metal cage, Toph overcame the preconceived notions that earthbenders could not manipulate metal because she was so unwilling to return home to them. As a parent, Toph treated her children the opposite as she was treated, giving them a lot of freedom.

Toph was determined to prove that her blindness didn’t make her weak. Despite what her parents wanted, Toph loved fighting and wanted to become the greatest earthbender. When she first joined the gaang, Toph was fixated on ‘carrying her own weight’ and would sometimes misconstrue helpful actions as pity. Toph did not want people to see her as a vulnerable child, however underneath everything that is what she was. When Toph is insulted, she will pretend not to care, however her feelings are usually hurt. For example, when her appearance was mocked by the girls from the Earth Kingdom, she brushed it off and said she didn’t care about appearances because she was blind. However, it is clear that Toph’s feelings were hurt and her demeanour improves drastically when Katara calls her pretty.

Toph is straightforward and direct. She does not like when people avoid issues and are not upfront with their feelings. This is something that she and Aang have conflict over. For example, when Aang has a block against learning earthbending, much of this stems from Aang having trouble ‘thinking like an earthbender’ and facing things head on. Toph grew increasingly frustrated with Aang over this and vented her frustrations quite openly. When Katara suggested to try using a more positive approach with Aang, she was obstinate and remained teaching him aggressively for most of the episode.

On a similar note, Toph is logical and if she has an idea she will bluntly share it. For example, when they are being chased by Azula and they can’t figure how she keeps tracking them, Toph exclaims bluntly that it is all Appa’s fault as he is shedding his fur. To Toph, she was just stating a logical fact but Aang gets upset at what she said. Toph gets annoyed about this and storms off because she thinks no one in the team wants her and she was just stating a logical argument.

Toph has a wing 7, as she greatly craves freedom. Additionally, wing 7s are more vocal and opinionated than wing 9s. Wing 7s are also more independent than wing 9s and are more likely to push boundaries.

Tri-type: 8w7 - 3w4 - 6w7

Some quotes to describe Toph’s traits and motivations:

"I love fighting. I love being an earthbender, and I'm really, really good at it."

“No. That's the problem. You've got to stop thinking like an airbender. There's no different angle, no clever solution, no trickety-trick that's going to move that rock. You've got to face it head on. And when I say head on, I mean like this ... [Jumps up and destroys the rock with her head.]”

“Yeah, you are sorry! If you're not tough enough to stop the rock, then you can at least give it the pleasure of smashing you instead of jumping out of the way like a jelly-boned wimp! Now, do you have what it takes to face that rock like an earthbender?”

“Earthbend, Twinkle Toes. You just stood your ground against a crazy beast. And even more impressive, you stood your ground against me. You've got stuff.” “Look! I didn't ask you to help unload my stuff! I'm carrying my own weight.”

“Somebody's a little light on his feet. What's your fighting name, the Fancy Dancer?”

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maaaaaatryoshka0325 · 5 years

Text

Fast Lane - Bang Chan Street Racer AU

Warnings: fluffy, suggestive themes, some angst (duh), Bang Chan (y’all know what I mean)

Word count: 6.8K+

If you guys don’t know what ‘F/N’ means, it means ‘friends name’

Your eyes focused on the girl walking in the middle, her shorts too short, high knee checkered socks on with a pair of checkered vans. She held two flags in her hands, as she was the keeper of their time. The engines revved, and people cheered.

You watched another car pull up, a jet black Bugatti Chiron. You knew who the owner was, everyone knew. He always had the newest, fastest cars, and because of that, he usually always won. Cheers got even louder a he began to pull up to the starting line, as it was going to start soon. He stepped out of the car and people greeted him, all with fake friendly smiles.

There was something about him you had always liked, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. Maybe it was the way he never rejected anyone, always being super friendly towards anyone who came his way. It could be because the last person who crash and their car caught in fire, he was the one to pull them out, completely unafraid of the raging flames and the ungodly smell of the oil and gas leaking. Or it could be the way he made eye contact with you every time. When his eyes met yours, they held a type of want in them, the type that made your heart flutter.

It wasn’t the type of want that shone in the other guys eyes when they looked at women, no, not that. His eyes weren’t hungry, but curious. Curious like he wanted to know you, who you truly are, and not just the woman you’d be in bed. Your friend bumped you and giggled and you looked up, seeing his eyes on you.

He gave you one of his devilish side smiles, his dimple poking through his cheek. You blushed and smiled back, a little too shyly for your friends liking.

“C’mon Y/N, you’re beautiful! You need to be more confident!” She said.

She stopped and looked up and shook your shoulder excitedly as he looked at you again, before slipping into his car. The other racers entered their cars, all revving their engines. All bets were on Chan, people were throwing money towards his name like their lives depended on it. His car revved, a loud roar like a lions before the girl threw the flags down, and everyone flew past her. Chan’s car was so fast you couldn’t even see it take off in the dark night.

People cheered and cheered, you could hear everyone from the opposite side of the high way. Their loud cheers let you know that Chan was winning, and you could imagine his shiny black car flying down the highway with ease. The cheers began to pick up through the crowd, slowly making its way to where you were, like a domino effect. You watched Chan’s car gracefully glide through the finish line, which was messily spray painted on the road. Loud cheers and screams of his name echoed around you as he stepped out of his car, his light brown hair fell messily over a bandanna, his leather jacket hugging his broad shoulders in the most attractive way possible. (SEE GIF)

He smiled as everyone crowded around and and praised him, a bunch of girls in the tiniest clothing rubbing up his chest and shoulders. You turned back around, your attention on your friend as she talked to another racer, Minho. You felt dumb thinking he looked at you in interest, why would he? He has all those girls in those skimpy outfits all over him, so why would he waste a second glance on you? Minho seemed very interested in your friend, his dark eyes completely concentrated on her when she talked.

You went to turn towards the other racers, when your face almost met someone’s broad chest. You looked up and saw Chan standing there, a smile on his face.

“Hey.” He greeted you with his charming side smile.

“H-Hey.” You greeted back, feeling flustered at how close he suddenly was.

His cologne hit your sense and made your stomach flutter with butterflies. It was a nice scent, not too strong, the perfect amount to have your heart hammering in your chest and your stomach fluttering with butterflies.

“What’s your name?” He asked, his dark eyes trained on yours.

He was so close to you, his plump lips soft and looked wet, smelling of honey. He was wearing chapstick, and you were almost positive your heart was going to explode.

“Y/N.” You answered, your eyes finding his.

“I’m Chan.” He introduced himself.

“I know.” You said with a small giggle.

“Oh? Well I’ll tell you something you don’t know.” He said, leaning forward to say it lowly. “My birth name is Chris, Chan is just my Korean name. You can call me Chris if you want.”

Your face began to heat up and he smiled at you, his own heart fluttering. He thought it was cute how flustered you got, how shy you were.

“Wanna go for a spin?” He asked, pointing towards his car.

“I would love too, but I’m not at all into the um... Extremely fast stuff.” You said awkwardly.

He let out a small laugh, running his fingers through his hair.

“I wouldn’t go fast like that with precious cargo in my car.” He said.

Your face turned bright red at his words, and you felt your friend nudge you forward. Her eyes were encouraging you, and you saw encouragement towards Chan in Minho’s eyes.

“I’ll meet you back at your place later.” She said, motioning her eyes towards Minho, indicating she was going somewhere with him.

You nodded as Chan led you to his car, unlocking the doors and opening the passenger door for you. The car doors open upwards, and he smiled at you as he closed it for you.

Such a gentleman.

He got in on the drivers side, and you felt him reach across you. Your heart hammered into your chest as he pulled on the seat belt and buckled you in. He paused as his face was directly in front of you, a small smile on his face.

“It gets caught a lot. Gotta keep you safe though.” He said with a sweet smile.

He sat back in his seat and slipped his own seat belt on, and you felt some sort of relief knowing he did so. He pulled away from the races, people still cheering when they watched his car glide down the highway. You were relieved as he kept his promise, not going too fast. Yeah he was decently above the speed limit, but it was the normal “there’s no traffic so I can do what I want” speed.

“So, where are you from?” He asked.

“(Hometown/Country).” You answered.

“Wow, really? I’m from Sydney Australia.” He said.

“That explains the accent.” You giggled.

“Hm? Do you like accents?” He asked.

“I like yours.” You said.

You realized a little too late what you said, but the smile that stretched across his face made your heart flutter. His eyes remained on the road, but you noticed he kept slide glancing at you.

He pulled up to a calm lake and opened your door. You stepped out and he smiled at you as he lead you along the lake, the cool breeze becoming bitter against your skin, as you were wearing a light sweater. He seemed to notice you shiver and took off his leather jacket, putting it over your shoulders. You noticed he was wearing a short sleeved white shirt that hugged his chest and shoulders, and blushed.

“It’s cold and you’re wearing a T-shirt-“ you started, attempting to take off his jacket.

“I’ll be fine, I like cooler weather.” He said, his hands over yours to stop you from taking his jacket off.

You smiled at him and slipped your arms through the sleeves, loving how big it was on you. His eyes sparkled as he watched you walk around with his jacket in, admiring how the bottom brushed your thighs. He walked closely to you, his cologne hitting you from where he was, and from his jacket. The moon reflected on the calm water, casting an ethereal glow. Not only was the reflection ethereal, but so was Chris. The way the moonlight hit the side of his face and lit up his handsome features made your heart throb.

He took you to an opened spot over looking the lake, sitting on the grass. You sat beside him and looked around, admiring all the of the flowers and willow trees beautifully decorating the scene. He looked at you, his eyes taking in all of your features. Your cute nose, your beautiful eyes, your kissable lips, all of it. You turned your head and looked at him, giving him a sweet smile that made his heart pound a mile a minute.

“I always come here to ease my mind when I’m stressed or over thinking. I figured I’d share it with you.” He said with a soft smile.

“You’re so generous.” You giggled, looking at the water that was gently moving along.

You both remained silent for bit, enjoying each other’s company as you admired how beautiful the spot was. He slowly stood up, flashing you that handsome side grin. (YA’LL KNOW WHICH ONE.)

‘It’s getting late princess, I should bring you back.” He said.

Your heart fluttered at the nickname as you stood up, following him to his car. He opened the door and lifted it for you again, his eyes on you as you sat down in the passenger seat. He made his way to the drivers side, sitting down and looking at you with a sweet smile.

You told him your address and he drove to your house, his eyes glancing over at you as he played low music. You heard him sing and you smiled, your eyes landing on his plump lips.

“You have a beautiful voice,” You said.

“No voice is more beautiful than yours.” He said with a small smile, grabbing your hand and kissing it as his eyes stayed on the road.

When you got out front of your apartment, you turned towards him and gave him a sweet smile.

“Thank you for tonight, here, you should take your jacket back.” You said, going to take your jacket off.

“Don’t take it off, hold onto it. Now you have to come see me at the races in a few days to give it back.” He said with a sweet smile.

“I’d be there even without it.” You said with a smile.

He kissed your hand again and waited until you were inside to drive off, making sure you were safe. “Y/N!”

You jumped and turned around, your eyes wide as you stared at F/N. She had a big smile on her face as she looked at you, grabbing your hands excitedly.

“What happened? Did he go fast the whole time? Did he kiss you? Is that his jacket? OOOO, DID YOU SLEEP WITH HIM?” She bombarded you with questions and you laughed, shaking your head.

“No I didn’t sleep with him dummy, and yes this is his jacket. He kissed my hand and told me to hang on to it and that now I have to be at the races in a few days to give it back.” You said with a big grin. “What about you and Minho?”

“He took me to get food then we walked around for a bit, he’s so sweet! EEK! We have to go to the races!” She said excitedly, jumping up and down.

“Trust me, we’re definitely going.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

You stood with F/N as you both had gone to the races again a few days later. Minho was getting ready as he stood and talked to you both, and you couldn’t help but smile at him and F/N. Minho had a cold demeanor, but he was so sweet when it came down to your friend. He looked at you for a moment and smiled, pointing with his face. You looked over and saw Chan approaching you, his soft eyes trained on you.

“Still wearing my jacket I see.” He said with a sweet smile, another leather jacket on his body.

You nodded and took it off, handing it to him. He took it back, making you feel rather sad, but he slid the one he had on from around his shoulders and put it on you, a small smile on his face.

“What are you doing?” You asked in a giggle,

“That one is warm and smells more like me, and this one? It smells like you, now it’s my lucky charm, and so are you.” He said, kissing your hand and giving you a charming smile.

Hoots and hollers came from the men around you, all cheering Chan on as he was talking to you. You noticed a couple jealous glances from some of the girls around you, but you pushed it away as your eyes met Chan’s.

“Cheer me on, yeah?” He asked, turning away.

“Always.” You said.

He looked back at you and smiled as he hopped back into his car, revving the engine and lining up at the starting line. The girl who always started them walked in the middle, her eyes finding yours as she gave you a smile. She threw the flags down and the cars took off, flying down the highway. She walked over to you and you felt F/N tense, wondering if she was going to give you trouble.

“You’re the girl Chan has been raving about?” She asked. “Y/N?”

“U-Uh yeah.” You responded, feeling a little intimidated by her beauty.

“Ah, good! I’m Yenna, Hyunjin’s girlfriend. Chan will treat you great! He’s a sweetheart, and really picky with his women.” She said with a big smile.

You felt F/N relax and you did too, giving her a big smile.

“It’s nice to meet you Yenna, I’m Y/N and this is F/N.” You said, introducing you and your friend.

“F/N? Like the girl Minho fawns over?” She asked.

“Yup! That’s me!” F/N said proudly.

You and Yenna giggled at her response, before you both turned to loud cheers. Chan was in first place, his car flying towards the finish line.

“GO CHAN!’ You yelled happily, the other two cheering with you.

Chan’s car flew through the finish line and pulled over to the side. He stepped out and people swarmed him. But he didn’t seem to notice, his eyes wandered until they landed on you, a smile stretching across his face as he walked through the crowd and approached you. You walked over to him and met him half way, his arm wrapping around your waist as he gave you his charming half smile.

“I told you that you’re my good luck charm.” He purred.

“You would’ve won anyways.” You giggled.

“Not without you.” He whispered.

He looked at F/N and smiled as she giggled as she pushed at Minho’s chest, and you could tell he was taking her home tonight.

“I’ll bring Y/N home.” Chan said.

Her eyes brightened as she nodded and gave you a thumbs up as she hopped in her car, following Minho out to his house. You had your own car, but you often left it at home, as F/N liked to drive.

He once again opened your door for you, then hopping into the drivers seat. His eyes were on yours as he reached over and fastened your seat belt, your eyes on his plump lips as he did so. He smiled down at you and then put his own seat belt on before taking off, his eyes fixed on the road. You admired his face as it focused, his eyes completely scanning the road as drove. He gave you a quick glance and smiled as he drove towards your place, surprisingly remembering where it was. He pulled up and smiled at you, and you nodded your head towards your apartment.

“Wanna come in? We can hangout for a bit if you want.” You said with a smile.

He quickly nodded and parked his car, following you into your apartment. Chan looked around as you led him inside, a smile on his face.

“You and F/N are like sisters, huh?” He asked, noticing all of the pictures the two of you had up on your walls.

“Yeah, she practically lives here too, she took over the guest room.” You laughed.

“Sound’s like a best friend, actually, it sounds like my friend Felix. You’ve seen him, right? He’s usually with me, but he’s away right now. He’ll be back for the next race.” He said.

“I’ve seen him a few times. He’s the skinny one with the pudgy cheeks, right?” You asked.

Chan laughed and nodded.

“He’s pretty muscular for being skinny.” He laughed.

“Oh? You stare at your friends body?” You asked.

“Not like that! We just workout together. Him, Changbin, Jisung, and I.” He laughed.

“You workout?” You asked, giggling.

“Yeah, wanna see?” He asked, raising his shirt a bit, some of his muscle showing.

“Chan!” You yelped, turning around and covering your blushing face.

He laughed and shook his head, amusement in his eyes.

“I’m only teasing you.” He giggled, ruffling your hair. “You’re so cute when you’re flustered.

‘Yeah yeah yeah.” You muttered, pouting as your cheeks remained red.

“What? I’m serious. You really are cute Y/N.” He said with a smile.

“Yah! Stop!” You yelled, your cheeks turning redder.

He pinched your cheeks and you yelped, making him chuckle.

“Such a cutie!” He laughed.

You pushed his hands off and ran away from him, making him giggle as he grabbed you by your waist. You yelped as you lost your footing from him grabbing you, causing you to fall. He quickly caught you and went down instead, landing sitting up. You straddled his waist, your cheeks bright red as he looked at you, an innocent smile on his face. He giggled as you struggled to find your words, his hand gently cupping your chin and pulling it foreword, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

Chan’s kissed were better than you imagined (Yes, you had imagined his plump lips on your own) and tasted of milk and honey. You closed your eyes and leaned into the kiss as both of your lips molded together. He deepened the kiss, his tongue swiping your bottom lip. His hands were around your waist as you gave him entry to your mouth, his tongue quickly finding yours and dancing with your own. You lied about his kisses being good, because they were the best you’ve ever fucking had, they were perfect. His tongue quickly won the dominance fight, but it never stopped it elegant, yet sloppy waltz with your own. You let out a tiny moan as your hips rolled against his own, making him let out a low grunt, his finger digging into your hips. Your fingers clutched his shirt tightly, making it wrinkled. His collar bones were exposed as you bunched his shirt in your fists, tiny whimpers leaving your mouth as your tongue’s continued to press into each other.

He pulled away and panted, trying to catch his breath. His dark eyes were full of desire, but they held so much adoration in them that your heart fluttered.

“As much as I’d love to see every bit of you and make you mine, I think I should take you on a date first.” He rasped, a sweet smile playing on his lips.

“I’d love that.” You giggled, letting go of his shirt and rubbing along his chest to get the wrinkles out.

He had a built chest, and you blushed as your hands ran along it to help him get it to look normal again. He grabbed your hands and pressed kisses to both of them, his eyes full of affection.

“How about in two days? I’ll take you on a date.” He asked, hope in his eyes.

“Perfect” You giggled.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

You looked down at your outfit, smiling as you admired how the tight, ripped jeans hugged your ass and hips, looking elegant on your legs. You wore a black shirt with a logo beneath (Use your imagination) with Chan’s leather jacket as a top. Your cute black boots looked good with the outfit, making you smile. You heard F/N come in and squealed as she looked you up and down.

“You look great Y/N!” She squealed.

“Thank you!” You giggled, admiring your dark make up, your (Straightened/curled) hair, and your outfit. You heard the door bell rang and hopped down the stairs, opening the door and seeing Chan. His eyes met yours and he gave you a big smile, walking into your apartment.

“You look ethereal.” He breathed, his eyes bright.

“So do you.” You giggled.

His brown hair was parted, his plump lips moistened with chapstick. He wore another leather jacket, a black under shirt, and tight, ripped jeans that had a chain hanging from them, and black combat boots. You admired him as he smiled at you, placing a sweet kiss on your cheek.

He drove to a park along the river, a bunch of vendors with food trucks and a park area with lights and hammocks along it.

(This is Penn’s landing, it’s close to where I live and I love going there) (For more visual representation, look up ‘Penn’s landing harbor park’)

Chan walked along with you, the night sky lit up by all the lights. Chan led you to a truck, a smile on his lips.

“This is the best one.” He said.

You both ordered and he paid, insisting he was the one taking you on a date. You both sat down and ate, your eyes admiring all of the lights and the hammocks, seeing all of the couples laying inside of them. Chan noticed and chuckled, leading you towards one when the two of you finished eating. He laid in it first, pulling you in with him. Your body was on top of his, his arms around you. You blushed and laid your head on his chest, listening to his heart hammering against his chest and giggling. He blushed a little bit, letting out a small laugh through his nose.

“Don’t make fun of me, I get nervous too.” He said with a soft chuckle.

“Awe, you’re nervous Channie? You’re so cute.” You giggled.

He groaned and pulled you closer, burying his face into your hair. You giggled and closed your eyes, his warmth making you feel at home as your pounding heart began to relax. His fingers began to thread through your hair, his other hand running up and down your back as you melted into him, his touch leaving sparks wherever they were. He pressed soft kisses to your hair, making you smile.

“Thank you for tonight, Chan. I loved every minute of it.” You whispered.

“It’s not the end.” He said softly, looking up at the sky.

You looked up, admiring the thousands of stars over head as a loud boom filled your ears, and bright colors lit up the sky. You watched in awe, your head rested on his chest as the fireworks boomed over head in different colors. His fingers traced circles on your hips as he admired your face, half illuminated by the fireworks. He smiled at you, his eyes full of affection. You looked back at him and smiled, burying your face into the crook of his neck.

After the fireworks he led you to his car, as always, opening your door as you got in. He hopped into the drivers seat and fixed your seat belt for you, this time stealing a quick kiss before he pulled away. You blushed and giggled as he fastened his own seat belt, a sweet smile on his face. He pulled away from the park, heading back to your apartment, his hand resting lightly on your thigh as he did so.

He took the highway back, as it was quicker and he didn’t want to keep you out too late, as you had work the next day. He got off at an exit, hitting a light before heading to another part of the highway. You heard revving and looked over, seeing two guys on motorcycles looking at you. A few more pulled up behind you and on Chan’s side. You saw his jaw tighten and his eyes narrowed. His eyes watched the light before he quickly turned his head and looked at you, his eyes dark.

“Do you trust me?” He asked.

“Chan what-”

“Do you trust me?” He repeated.

You slowly nodded and he tightened your seat belt. When the light turned green, his foot slammed down on the pedal, literally putting the pedal to the metal. His car flew and you closed your eyes, covering your face with your hands. You heard the motorcycles in the distance, seemingly following you for awhile.

“Hang on Y/N.” Chan said as he took a sudden turn, the motorcycles passing the turn due to going too fast.

Chan kept up with his quick speed until he knew they were gone and he slowed down. He sighed in relief as he looked over at you. Your feet were on the seat, your hands pressed to your knees as your eyes were covered by them. He slowly reached his hand out and rubbed your thigh, a soft exhale coming from him.

“It’s over babygirl, I promise. I’m so sorry.” He said gently.

You slowly uncovered your eyes, fear making them wide. His gentle hand rubbed up and down your thigh, his gentle voice relaxing you as he reassured you it was over and done with.

“It’s okay babygirl, it’s okay.”

When you pulled up to your house Chan got out, opening your door. He followed you up your stairs to your apartment, wrapping his arms around you from behind.

“I’m so sorry about that babygirl, I really am. I didn’t know that would happen - fuck - I’m so sorry.” He said softly, kissing the back of your shoulder.

“Chan, what was that?” You asked.

“I raced their friend two years ago and he crashed and died, and they haven’t left me alone ever since.” He said softly.

You turned and looked at him, a lost look on his face as he looked down at you. You cupped his cheeks and kissed his lips, then his forehead.

“It’s not your fault Chan. Not what happened to their friend or what happened tonight.” You said softly.

He smiled at you and kissed your forehead, a hopeful look in his eye.

“So, you’ll stick around with me? You’ll still go on dates with me?” He asked.

“I trust you Chan, more than you’d ever realize.” You said with a smile.

“I’m glad. You should get some sleep, I’ll see you for the races?” He suggested, his eyes bright.

“Of course you will silly, and you should sleep too. Your eye bags are bag.” You said, running your fingers along his left eye.

He kissed your hand and gave you a sweet smile. “Anything for you, my dear.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

A lot of people showed up for this specific race, and you realized why. The guys that had followed you were in the races, this time in cars. The one that had pulled up directly next to your side looked at you, his eyes narrowed on you. You tried to ignore him, to keep your back to him, but your worry for Chan grew strong, making you feel sick to your stomach. Chan walked up with someone else, and you recognized Felix immediately.

“Great, they’re here. I thought they would’ve given up by now.” He grumbled, irritation in his eyes.

Chan walked over to you and pulled you in by your waist, your head against his shoulder.

“Don’t pay attention to them love, and stay with all of your friends.” He said softly.

“Please don’t race tonight Chan. They’re after you.” You begged, burying your face into his shoulder.

“I’ll be find, I promise.” He said softly.

You closed your eyes and held him tightly, anxiety pricking at you. He cupped your cheeks and looked into your eyes, a reassuring smile on his face.

“I’ll be careful babygirl.” He said, kissing your forehead.

“I’ll protect him, no worried.” Felix said with a big smile.

You smiled back at him and nodded, giving Felix a hug too.

“Be safe Felix.” You said.

Chan smiled at you as he and Felix walked to their cars, hopping in and putting their seat belts on. You turned when you heard F/N calling for Minho to come back, fear on her face. Minho passed you and you looked at him, worry matching F/N’s.

“Be safe out there Minho.” You said.

“I will be, I have to do this. I can’t let them all go in like that without me.” He said.

He opened his door and slid into his seat, pulling his seat belt across his body. He revved his engine as Yenna stepped between the cars, anxiety on her face as she did so. You saw Hyunjin looking at her, anger in his eyes at the fact she was still doing it, despite the other guys being obviously dangerous. She mustered up her courage and put a smile on, dropping the flags as everyone shot passed her. She sighed in relief as they all passed, but turned around and watched them, worry across her face.

“Yenna!” F/N called.

Yenna went to the both of you, worrying plastered on her pretty face.

“I’m so scared.” She whispered, tears brimming her eyes.

“We are too, but I know they’ll protect each other.” F/N said confidently.

“You were really brave for still holding those flags Yenna.” You said, rubbing her shoulder.

She gave you both a thankful smile and pulled you both into a hug, comforting the three of you. The continues cheers going on from the opposite side had you biting your nails in anticipation, anxious for Chan’s car to appear. Your heart leaped through your chest when you saw it, but noticed something wrong. His back bumper looked like it had been hit, and he sped through the finish line quickly, followed by another car and Felix’s car. You recognized the car as the man’s from earlier and the other night, and also noticed his front bumper had some damage. You gasped when you realized he must’ve hit Chan, and was now after him. Felix kept pushing his car closer the other, trying to get him off of Chan.

“Felix!” You gasped as the opposites car hit the side of his own, sending him straight into a pole.

His car flipped into a ditch and you took off, your feet pounding against the ground.

“Y/N!” F/N and Yenna both called for you.

You saw Chan's car skid next to the spot where the ditch was. He hopped out of the car, his divers side door wide open and his car siting in the middle of the road as he went straight down into the ditch. You ran to the top of the ditch and saw Chan ripping the door open, his eyes on Felix, whose eyes were closed as he was dangling from the seat belt.

“Felix!” Chan called for his friend, jumping into the car on it’s side and unbuckling him.

Chan started to lift him out as Minho and Hyunjin ran past you, quickly grabbing Felix as Chan had to haul himself out. They quickly moved him away from the car, as it was smoking. Chan dropped down beside him and cradled his head, his breathing heavy as he held Felix’s face. You noticed Felix’s eyes opened and he gave Chan a pained smiled.

“You idiot! Why would you do that?” Chan asked, his voice shaking.

“I finally know what’s it’s like to have a brother, and we brother’s protect each other.” Felix rasped out.

Chan held him tightly, soaking his hoodie in blood as he cradled Felix.

“All of you go.” Chan said lowly.

“Hyung-” Hyunjin started.

“Go! An ambulance is on the way, I don’t want any of you getting in trouble.” Chris yelled.

Hyunjin was about to protest when Yenna put her hands on his chest, meaning for him to listen to Chan. Hyunjin let out a small sob as he looked at Felix one more time and allowed Yenna to lead him away. F/N gently rubbed Minho’s shoulder as he let a few tears slip down his face before gently pulling him away.

“You should go too.” He said to you.

You knew he wouldn’t take no for an answer, so you nodded. You bent down and kissed his cheek, your hand holding Felix’s gently. Felix gave you a pained smile before he let out a small whimper, blood trickling from his mouth. You slipped your hand onto Chan’s cheek as you looked at him.

“I’ll be waiting for you.” You whispered, before allowing Minho and F/N to bring you to the car.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It’s been two days since Felix’s accident, and you haven’t heard from Chan. You had tried texting and calling him, but he never picked up, and the others were having the same luck. You wracked your brain, trying to find out a way to see him, as you never been to his place. A thought popped into your head and you grabbed your car keys, heading out the door.

You parked your car across from the lake, quickly getting out and walking to the spot that Chan had showed you. You sighed in relief when you saw him sitting there. His knees were up and his arms were resting on them, his face buried into his arms. You slowly walked over and bent down in front of him, rubbing his arms. He quickly lifted his head, his eyes meeting yours. Your heart dropped when you saw the dark circles around his eyes, the whites of his eyes bloodshot.

“Y/N?” He asked.

“I’m here.” You whispered, getting on your knees between his legs and wrapping your arms around his neck.

You felt his arms around your waist as he buried his face into your chest. You stroked his hair and kissed his head, holding him tightly.

“Everyone’s been so worried Chan, I’ve been worried.” You whispered.

“I’m sorry I just... Couldn’t face anyone.” He whispered into your chest.

“Chan, this isn’t your fault. None of this is your fault.” You said.

You felt him flinch at your words, then his arms tightened around you as you felt something wet on your neck. Your heart broke when you realized he was crying, crying because he had been blaming himself. You cradled him in your arms tightly, tears filling your own eyes.

“Chan it isn’t your fault, I promise.” You said softly.

“I’m sorry.” He cried.

“Shhh, it’s okay. I promise, it’s okay. He’s still alive, and he’s going to fully recover.” You whispered.

It was true, after surgery, Felix was said to make a full recovery. He had been awake after his surgery, and you, F/N, Yenna, Minho, and Hyunjin had been there to see him, along with Changbin, Jisung, Woojin, Seungmin, and Jeongin.

“I know it’s just... He got hurt because of me.” He whispered.

“It wasn’t because of you, Chan. It was because of that man. And I know you would’ve done the same for him, so please stop blaming yourself. You pulled him out of a smoking car, and not many people would do that. And in fact, no one else rushed to help him. You saved him, Chan.” You pointed out, cupping his cheeks and wiping his tears.

It was the first time you’ve seen him look so defeated, deep bags, messy hair, and a sad face. He closed his eyes and laid his head back on your chest, soft sobs leaving his lips. You held him and whispered comforting words into his ear as he clutched you tightly, before pulling away and wiping his eyes.

“They’re participating in another race tomorrow, and said if I win they’ll leave everyone alone.” He said.

He watched your face drop, your eyes scanning his. How could he risk himself again?

You felt him pull you into his lap, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

“I’ll be careful babe, please, just have faith in me. That’s all I need.” He said softly.

You closed your eyes and nodded, hugging him tightly. He held you to him before pulling away and cupping your cheeks, kissing your lips softly. You leaned into his kiss, the kiss sending tingles down to your toes.

“As long as I have you, my sweet luck charm, I can do anything”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

You, Yenna, and F/N once again found yourselves biting your fingers, anxiety eating the three of you as the boys lined their cars up. Chan got out and walked over to you as you took off his leather jacket and swapped it with the other. He had a soft smile on his face as he pulled you into a hug, his face burying into your hair.

“Be safe.” You whispered.

“I will, I promise.” He said softly, pecking your lips.

His warm eyes held your gaze as he stroked your cheek before walking towards his car. You watched Minho kiss F/N’s forehead and Hyunjin placed a loving kiss to Yenna’s lips before they walked away to enter their cars. Yenna looked scared to hold the flags, so you grabbed them, looking Yenna in her eyes.

I have to give Chan confidence and courage.

You stepped between the front of the cars, your eyes on Chan’s. He stared at you, undeniably mad, but also understanding. The others looked at you with admiration as you raised the flags, then dropped them.

You closed your eyes as the cars flew by you, making your hair whip in the breeze. Please be safe, all of you.

You opened your eyes and walked back towards Yenna and F/N, and they both praised you on your bravery. But you had to be brave for Chan, you just had too. The three of you waited anxiously, pressed close to each other as you heard screams and cheers from the other side. You bounced your leg fluidly as you bit your finger, just wanting to see Chan’s car. Just wanting to see ANY of their cars. Your heart leaped into your throat when you saw Chan’s car in the front, the opposites right behind, but surrounded by Hyunjin’s car and Minho’s car. They had locked him in.

Chan’s car flew through the finish line first, loud screams filling the area. Chan pulled over and got out, followed by Minho and Hyunjin. You ran to Chan, your heart beating through your chest as you leaped into his strong arms. He caught you and held you tightly, smiling up at you. You grabbed his face and kissed his lips, relief filling you as you felt his touch. You leaned your forehead on his, your noses touching.

“I told you, all I needed was you to have faith in me.” He whispered.

You smiled and kissed his lips again, warmth spreading through you to your toes, a feeling you were growing used too. The other man’s car pulled close to the crowd and he got out, face pissed.

“You all cheated! You can’t trap me in!” He yelled.

“It’s also cheating to play bumper cars while racing. Now get out.” Minho said sharply, stepping in front of Chan, Hyunjin stepping in on the other side.

All of Chan’s fans agreed, making the mans face turn red.

“Fine. A deals a deal.” He growled before taking off.

You heard your phone go off and saw a facetime from Jisung, as you had exchanged numbers. You answered and saw Jisung’s face, Changbin behind him, and a clear shot Felix sitting in his hospital bed.

“How did it go?” Jisung asked, worry in his voice.

“We won.” Chan said with a smile.

You saw Felix smile as Jisung moved the camera to him, his eyes sparkling.

“I knew you’d win hyung.” He said.

“When I have you guys to protect, of course I will.” He said softly, his eyes landing on you. “I’m glad you’re getting better little brother. You can rest easy now.” He said.

“I can rest easy knowing I can always find you.” Felix said warmly before hanging up.

Chan smiled, tears in his eyes as he lifted you back up, kissing your lips.

“Thank You, Y/N, for giving me strength and courage.” He said softly.

“I’ll do it anytime, any day, in a heartbeat.” You said softly.

He smiled at you and held you close, his heart beating against your ear.

“You’ll always be my lucky charm, my love.”

#bang chan #bang chan stray kids #bangchan #bang chan fluff #stray kids bang chan #stray kids #straykids #skz #skz imagines #skz bang chan #chan #Channie #skz chan #stray kids street racer au #bang chan street racer au

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3starsquinn · 4 years

Text

Study Mary || Connor & Orion

Timing: Weekend of 10/17, right before Rio’s birthday

Setting: The Scribrary

Parties: Rio and @connorspiracy

Summary: Rio gets the chance to show off the Scribrary to Connor so they can try to research Bloody Mary. Their search yields minimal results.

Orion has grown accustomed to this. Apparently, the friends that he had been making around town were all just involved in the supernatural as he was. Rio had lists of things he needed to look into at the Scribrary, why not had a ghost of legend come to life to his queue. He pulled into a parking lot on the campus where he was supposed to meet Connor and sat in his car until Connor got there. “Hey!” He waved, “So the building is in the woods behind the campus. Cars can’t get there anymore, so it’s a bit of a walk. The place isn’t exactly… modern. I’ve been trying to clean the place out but it’s really outdated. You ready?”

Connor had several Go Pros on him, along with his regular camera and phone. He didn’t know exactly how much Rio wanted him to film, if anything, but he was curious about this place, and was interested to get it on camera. People made documentaries about crappy things all the time. Why should this be any different? “What, no state of the art streaming set ups in every room?” Connor shook his head. “You should be ashamed,” he teased, giving Rio a wink. “Alright. Lead the way then. Blanche and Adam mentioned you’re kind of the book bloke, so I figured if anyone can find something on Bloody Mary, it’d be you.” He followed wherever Rio led, interested to see the place where Rio housed his books. “Isn’t it a pain in the arse coming here all the time? You ever thought about digitalising it?”

Orion led the way through the woods. The terrain wasn’t perfect, but it had been worn down from the myriad of trips that Rio and some others had taken to the place. Although he had been more open and willing to show the place to people he still kept access pretty limited. As it was, he had only actually shown a few people how to get into the building. Everyone else needed an escort. “Ha ha. Very funny. I haven’t really gotten the chance to set up internet yet. It’d be a bit difficult to explain that to Spectrum.” Regardless, he appreciated the compliments from Blanche and Adam. He wasn’t sure he believed the kind words, but it was still flattering nonetheless. “I’m pretty used to the hike now, actually. Before I moved in with Winston I sort of lived here for a bit. Unofficially.” Rio’s favorite part about showing the building off to people was getting to the empty clearing where it sat shrouded by magic. “Actually Winston and I are working on digitizing it! They’re building a website and everything and I’m working on moving things over but… well you’ll see for yourself. It’s a lot of stuff to switch over.” Rio moved towards the rotting tree, using the same method his uncle had shown him so many years ago to make the building visible. Once he was done it was as if an invisible fog began to lift as the building slowly became visible. “So uh- The building looks old but I promise it’s safe. The library is a little cleaner than the rest of the space.”

Connor followed, grateful he hadn’t worn any of his nicer clothes for this trip. “This town and its bloody forests,” he joked, grunting as a branch snagged on his jeans. “How’d you even find this place?” It didn’t seem like the sort of place you’d stumble on by accident. Which was probably a good thing, because having all this information out in the woods stuck him as pretty risky. “Winston’s your room mate, yeah? I think Blanche or someone mentioned they’re into computers and gaming and stuff.” He watched as Rio found the way in, raising an impressed eyebrow. “Damn, should’ve filmed this part so I can come back later without you,” he teased. “I’m not scared of rotting old buildings, mate. Look who you’re talking to.” He turned on the GoPro to take some shots, and pulled out his phone too for good measure. He’d probably set up a steady-cam when they were settled in. “Are there ghosts here? It seems haunted as fuck,” he snickered, but followed Rio inside, wide-eyed and impressed. “Damn, I could spend hours exploring this place.”

“Well this building used to belong to a group of people called the Scribes,” Orion began explaining, though he didn’t want to focus too much on them and bore Connor to sleep, “They used to keep records of the supernatural. My uncle wanted to be one of them. He showed me this place when I was a kid.” Rio was actually surprised that Connor hadn’t met Winston yet given the way the town usually worked, “Yeah! I moved in with them and our roommate Ricky a few months ago. Winston’s a genius with all the computer stuff, way better than me.” Probably not the best resume seller when Connor had just officially hired him to help film and edit, but Rio tended to be painfully honest. Especially when it came to complimenting Winston. “Ha! Okay, yeah fair point. You are alarmingly unafraid of sketchy architecture.” Rio opened the front doors and made his way down the hallways, winding back through the building and towards the library. “Your guess is as good as mine, honestly. I’ve never seen but, but I guess I wouldn’t. You might like to hear that this place has a ton of rooms that are locked and I still can’t get open.”

Rio wiggled his eyebrows and grinned, clearly something that might pique Connor’s curiosity. At the end of the hallway, Rio pushed the big door open into the massive library, book shelves going two more levels and sprawling from floor to ceiling. “Yeah it’s uh- pretty crazy right? This is why I’m still working on digitizing” Rio shrugged but found one of the old work desks and jumped up on it, pulling his laptop free from his bag and opening it up. “But I do have the place mostly organized. My guess is we should start in the section about ghosts and spirits?”

"Oh yeah. I think I've heard of 'em. Used to safeguard supernatural knowledge, have big old archives and stuff. I guess that makes sense." Connor knew about ghosts, demons and the varying types of supernatural to the extent that was expected for someone who made his living filming videos about it, but when they made their way to the massive library, he was struck with the realisation that no matter how much he tried to learn, there'd always be more to know. The fact both excited and intimidated him. "This is sick, mate," he said, rubbing his hands together with enthusiasm as he scoured the shelves. "Right, where’s that section then? We should start with Bloody Mary, yeah? And then maybe possessions and polters, see if we can find something that'll help Nadia and my mate."

Orion liked seeing people’s reactions to the place. It reminded him of his own reaction when his uncle had brought him here so many years ago. Rio had always been fascinated with books and learning, so his excitement wasn’t surprising. But he liked seeing how his friends reacted to the space. “Yeah, it’s pretty crazy.” Rio laughed, pointing over one of the tables, “I keep a hoard of snacks under the table over there. I got soda and junk food if you want to grab anything.” Rio would swoop by and grab something once he figured out exactly where they would start looking. Though he was far from ever completing his goal of completely digitizing the place, Rio had gotten the place fairly organized and had mostly made sure that things had stayed organized. To the point that Rio asked when people borrowed things they just returned them on the tables so Rio could be in charge of putting them back.

“Maybe we’ll get lucky and there will be an entire journal labelled Bloody Mary. But until then I think we will just have to scour the section on spirits and hope for the best.” Orion wished he had something more concrete, but for now he could only hop up from the table and lead Connor towards the ghost section, taking a small detour to grab a drink before doing so. The ghost section stayed on the first floor, mostly because it was one of the more common ones he had pulled information for. Side effects of his friendship with Blanche no doubt. “Pull anything that looks like it might be useful and we can start going through them, okay? Some of the old Scribes kept journals and I’ll grab them just in case something like this has appended before.”

"I love places like this," Connor enthused, hands running along the spines of the dusty books on the shelves. He could see why Rio and Winston were having a tough job digitalizing everything. "It's like a supernatural treasure trove. Do they have anything else cool? Old artefacts or anything?" His inner supernatural geek bubbled to the surface for a few moments before he remembered why they were here, and he gave a shrug. "Something cool to look into after we sent Bloody Mary Bloody Packing," he said with a goofy smile. "It can't all be doom and gloom." Connor had a knack for finding the silver lining in dark situations. He liked to think it was part of what made him fun to watch.

"Ghosts and spirits and ghoulies... but first, snacks." He went to where Rio had pointed, a bag of gummy bears and Lays potato chips. He'd just have to wipe his hands before touching the books. He munched on Rio's offerings as he perused the shelves, doing his best to contain his curiosity and only dig out what they actually needed. "Here's one on Malevolent Spirits. Maybe she's in there." He placed it on the pile, along with whatever Rio had pulled. "Ghosts of Scottish Legend? Sure, why not." Within a few minutes, they had quite the pile to get started on.

“Me too, obviously. I still have a whole makeshift bedroom set up just in case I stay here too late.” Orion laughed, happy to have another person to share the knowledge with. “This place has a ton of stuff that I still don’t know about, honestly. I’ve always just been too afraid to explore the place by myself. Plus some of the doors are magically sealed. I can’t get them open.” Rio hadn’t put much thought into trying to get them open, honestly. He was curious by nature, but that curiosity wasn’t nearly as strong as Rio’s fear of danger. Way too many things could be behind that door.

Rio didn’t waste any time once they had built their stack of books. Rio wasn’t much fun once he dove into research. He had an ability to completely block out the world while he was skimming the pages. Rio flipped through pages quickly, scanning for keywords that might give any inclination that Bloody Mary had shown up before. Bonus points if there’s a way to get rid of her. Or them. Did evil spirits identify with a certain gender? Rio wasn’t willing to interrupt his reading to entertain the question. He finally perked up from his spot once he had find something interesting, mindlessly waving his hand and smacking against the table top to grab Connor’s attention. “Hey. Look at this. This chapter talks about a female spirit that anyone can see. Not just mediums or undead. The description sounds eerily like how I would describe Bloody Mary.” He handed the book of to Connor to take a look at and see for himself.

"A bedroom?" Connor teased, giving him a playfully flirtatious snicker. "My book collection brings all the boys to the yard?" Luckily, Connor wasn't actually trying to get laid, so he didn't really care if his jokes were shit. "Damn. I'd make it a challenge to open those doors." A task for another time, definitely, but one Connor certainly wouldn't forget. "How'd you come to know about this place and be the designated book-lord, anyway?" he asked, still snacking as they worked through pages, and pages, and more pages.

Interest piqued, hopes perhaps just a little bit higher than they'd been before coming in, Connor leaned in to get a closer look at the passage Rio was talking about. "Did they give her a name? I've looked up 'Bloody Mary' in a bunch of these indexes and most of them so far take me to passages that say she's just fictional."

“Ha ha. Hilarious.” Orion rolled his eyes at Connor but laughed. He handled the shameless flirting surprisingly well, considering how he used to be whenever someone pretty so much as spoke to him, let alone flirt. But Rio supposed a lot of that anxiety was taken away once he had started dating Winston. “It’s more like a community room anyways. It let my Scribes have a place to crash if they were deep into research. The place has a bunch of bunk beds.” Something from Connor’s tone of voice told him that the room research would be coming up at another, less chaotic time. “My uncle knew about the Scribes. He was training to be one right before the Scribes bit the dust. He brought me here when I was a kid. I think I might have been the only one in town that even knew the place was here until I started to show it to people.”

“Um, give me a minute” Orion pulled the book back towards him to scan through further, flipping pages until he finally found the word, “A theory. Right here, he says that it has a lot of similarities to modern day myths about Bloody Mary. I don’t think this guy ever confirmed anything though.” Rio flipped a few more pages, “Looks like he did some sort of study. Tried to gather a bunch of people to see who could see bloody mary.” Rio passed the book off to Connor again.

Connor edged closer to Rio to get a good look at the book. “Lemme see that…” He replaced whatever book he’d been nose-deep in with the one Rio had been reading. “You know, I think this might be her.” He read through the rest of the page, his eyes zeroing in on something down near the bottom. “Oh, mate…” He pointed to the passage, reading it out loud. “The spirit targeted only those who had taken human life; those who were innocent were spared.” He flipped through to the next page, which was so heavily water damage that it was barely more than a blur. “Great. The part about how they got rid of her is gone.”

Though it hardly helped many others in this town, Orion breathed a sigh of relief that Bloody Mary only targeted murderers. It was a bit of a relief to know that he didn’t have to worry about the ghost trying to kill him. Whatever confidence he had dropped when he realized that the same couldn’t be side for the majority of his friend group. He knew for sure that Winston, Blanche and Nell had been involved in the resurrection of Nell’s sister. He also knew exactly what they had done in order to bring her back. And Rio wasn’t naive enough to believe that Adam had never taken a life. The anxiety spiked again and Rio forced it down by focusing instead on Connor’s words. “Great. Water damage. Of course.” Rio sighed and slid off of the table to grab his laptop. “I’m going to see if there’s anything else in here by the same Scribe that wrote that. If we can’t find anything then maybe… try to find some sort of spellcaster? If this thing was summoned, maybe someone knows ways to reverse it.”

Connor’s throat was dry, his cheeks warm as the feeling of concern overcame him. “Does that mean those high school kids who’d summoned her killed someone?” he asked, mostly to himself. “Or maybe the rule doesn’t apply if you summon her. Like, you sort of take that risk upon yourself by bringing her into the world.” He pulled out his phone to take a photo of the pages, sending them along to Nell, Adam, Jasmine and Blanche. “That’s a good idea.” Unlike Rio, he knew nothing of any potential murderers among his friends, but his interaction with Adam down at the river stuck out like a sore thumb in his mind. Adam didn’t know if he’d killed that girl or not. He’d been too drunk to remember. It had been an accident, but maybe Mary wouldn’t see it that way. “We really need to find a way to get rid of her.”

“Good question. I’ve heard summoning stuff is dangerous anyways. Maybe they did something wrong and that’s how they ended up dead. Either way it’s sad.” Orion couldn’t imagine willingly being part of something like that back when he was in high school. But he didn’t know the context of their situation. Regardless, now Rio and Connor and whoever else was around were stuck with cleaning up the mess. “Well, I can tell it’s going to be a long night. Maybe I can talk Blanche into picking up a pizza and meeting us here. Turn this into a study party? I have lots of energy drinks. Plus beds if you want to crash part way through the night!” Maybe they’d get lucky and come across something useful.

#wickedswriting #c: connor #chatzy: connor #study mary #chatzy

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librarycards · 4 years

Note

im super new to the idea of anti-psychiatry and if u have a chance/the time or energy i had a question as someone who is seen as “treatment resistant” & has been in the system for many years. im curious if u think that seeing a therapist/having a dr/patient relationship in any scenario is unhealthy/harmful and it is impossible to see real reward from any type of treatment like that? i dont generally have much energy to research/read long bodies of text so i was hoping i could ask! thank u!

no problem, thanks for asking! as a fellow-supposedly "treatment resistant" (im still here bitch!) person, i've given a *lot* of thought as to what an anarchist treatment model, as it were, might look like, particulalry with se/lf-harm/su/cidal dep. + eati//ng dis/orders. many people ask me this and i ask myself; it's an important question for anyone seriously thinking about deinstitutionalization + antipsychiatry.

also, before i start, i think a great way to begin engaging with antipsychiatry is to turn a critical lens back to your own usage of language: what do you mean by "unhealthy/harmful"? that reads as psychopathologizing language in and of itself! this isn't to say you said something "wrong" or w/e but instead to point out that medico-psychiatric hegemony is everywhere, including in our critiques of it. we struggle to find a framework for our thoughts about right and wrong without framing them as well/sick; cured/diseased; sane/insane. a great exercise for someone starting out might be to keep track of some of the quotidian judgements you make and look at their indebtedness to ableist/saneist norms.

ok, so to address your q!! below is a little long, i tried to keep it as brief as possible but if you're having trouble with it (re: having trouble with long bodies of text) please feel free to ask clarifying questions in my inbox or DMs. :)

in terms of dr/patient relationships - whether you're a materialist or a poststructuralist (personally, i'm nonbinary); whether you think the access to material transformation/isolation/etc. is the locus of the power differential there, or whether you see the locus of power in the act of naming someone a doctor or marking someone as "sick," you're going to find a clear, unavoidable hierarchy between the professional and the patient, of whatever stripe.

the most decent drs and therapists are well-aware of this, are unafraid to name it, and are willing to act as collaborators w/ patients to engineer a liveable mode of non-compliance, to game "the system", and to prioritize survival over cure. the mere fact of having a certain type of medical/psychological knowledge doesn't suddenly render someone an evil person, nor do i think individuals are "innately" good or bad or anything at all!

however, virtually every dr, psych, social worker, therapist, etc. is to some extent educated in a system that continues to reify medical/psychiatric conditions. this training predisposes them all to understand "patients" as "afflicted" subjects. to see us as "cases" to (re)solve. some have the courage and wherewithal to resist what in many cases amounts to academic brainwashing. most don't. all have internalized the systems of oppression embedded in scientific disciplines & the world we live in and are capable of inflicting harms based on these on marginalized patients, up to and including death.

all this being said, let's return to awareness of hierarchy. my best dr (and current GP), as well as my most recent 2 therapists, are aware of this hierarchy. i see a doctor because, uh, i'm actually a reasonably decent fan of being alive and an even bigger fan of getting the fuck VACCINATED! and also like, participating in college and other stuff that requires check-ups. i started seeing a therapist consensually, for the first time ever, when i was eighteen and seeking primarily 1) a "gender dysphoria" dx and thus access to biomedical intervention and 2) an adult autism dx in order to get the living accommodations i needed at college. i remained "in therapy," as it were, after i no longer *needed* it, because, surprise! it's nice to have someone to talk to whose job it is to hang out with you. the notion of talking out your problems in order to find ways of dealing with them is a good one. everyone does it. i'm not currently in therapy for reasons that are probably obvious, but i certainly wouldn't make carte blanche statements of therapy's "uselessness."

drs that are aware of hierarchy also understand that the constructions of the "treatment resistant" patient are embedded in this notion of compulsory cure. the patient becomes treatment resistant when they "fail" in pursuit of the successful cure they are presupposed to want. mind you, these are the cures drs themselves dream up for us –– hence the word "resistant". treatment resistant often = resisting medical authority. that is, noncompliant; that is, lacking insight, that is, Mad. rather than take apart the relationship between antipsychiatry and those who "can't get better" (including myself!) i'm far more interested in looking at ways to make life survivable outside the binary of sickness and health. how do the conditions under which a "patient" lives determine their resistance to treatment (e.g., is it treatment-resistant depression, or is it "i'm poor, jobless, estranged, and subjugated by capitalism"? if it's the latter, hell, who wouldn't be suicidal?).

further, are they treatment-resistant because they object to the form or method a treatment might take? because they're traumatized? because they feel unsafe with those doing the treating? all of these are questions that can only be addressed when we make visible the dr./patient power relationship. i have had recent medical and therapeutic experiences that have helped me and even felt affectively rewarding, and recent experiences that have made me feel like utter garbage. the difference isn't that in one case, i was fixed, and the other, i was ill, but instead that some providers are willing to engage with me where i'm at and trust me as author(ity) of my own life, and others treat me like a lineage of problems that can't be fixed.

i don't know if that helped, this is more an infodump but i tried to organize it in a potentially helpful way! again, please hmu with questions.

#survivingpsych #suicide m ////#saneism #ableism #medical industrial complex #psychiatric industrial complex #ask #Anonymous #madness #critical mad studies

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fortheloveoffanfic · 4 years

Text

Lullaby

Keanu Reeves x reader (A/n- Why are they always having sex?) Chapter Summary- Jillian and Catherine find out about Y/n’s relationship with Keanu. Y/n and Keanu go to a night market and caution is thrown out the window.

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12

Warnings- Smut/NSFW, semi-public sex

Chapter 13

They’d left New York bright and early Monday morning, and much to Keanu’s disappointment, Y/n hadn’t brought up their early, Sunday morning exchange, and he’d eventually decided that she didn’t remember. He’d brushed it off though, not wanting Y/n to think he was upset about something like that.

It had been a couple weeks since then and dates with Y/n had been infrequent though cherished. Every moment spent with her made Keanu fall even more in love. She contrasted him perfectly; daring, bold and unabashedly unafraid. Y/n adored adventure; sneaking around in places where it was hardest, tossing her arms around his neck and pressing the sweetest affections to his lips even with the risk of getting caught. That didn’t mean they weren’t careful though, the last thing either of them wanted was to have to put an untimely end to their blooming relationship. But they didn’t necessarily want to be restricted to their houses either.

That Friday night Keanu had planned to take her to the night market, hoping that the crowd would be enough to shield their identities. It wasn’t the typical high-end date, but Y/n had told him that she’d never been, even though she adored the fair-type feel of places like that and all Keanu wanted was to see her happy.

He was almost ready to set off for her place; he’d only been there a handful of times since she’d moved, but Keanu could tell that Y/n liked having him with her. The thought warmed his heart, knowing that she appreciated his company that much, that he meant that much to her, because really, that was what she was to him.

“Try this one,” Jillian tossed Y/n a champagne colored tulle skirt, and she reacted barely in time to catch it. Upon instance, she and Catherine had insisted on helping her get ready for her date, even if Y/n had been very vague on who she was going out with.

Y/n held the skirt up to her waist, tilting her head as she surveyed it in the mirror, standing before it dressed only in her bra and panties. “I don’t know,” she frowned, “I don’t think it really works with what we’re doing.”

“What are you doing?” Catherine looked up from her ‘task’ of going through Y/n’s lipstick selection, stationed at the comfy tufted otter-man that served as the vanity’s stool, “I mean, you’ve been very vague.”

Y/n replaced the skirt on its hanger, moving on to go through a drawer with jeans and leggings, “We’re going to a night market.” Rummaging through her stuff, she eventually produced a pair of black leggings with silver details running up the sides, pulling them on while ignoring the questioning stares from her cousin and friend.

“Daniel is taking you to a night market?” Catherine huffed in disbelief and Jillian's jaw hung slack, rearing further into the grey, tweed armchair central to the room. Shaking off her initial shock, Catherine twirled a loose blonde ringlet around her pointer, “Has Daniel ever been to any kind of market? I mean, we’re talking about pretty boy Daniel who flew you out in the plane that he owns, for a private dinner in Hawaii, that Daniel?”

Y/n scoffed, rolling her eyes and avoiding their gazes, moving on to shifting things around in one section of her closet, in search of the right blouse, “I never said I was going with Daniel,” she grumbled shyly.

“Oh?” Jillian cocked an eyebrow, sitting up straighter before standing all together. When Y/n didn’t make another move to explain, she approached her, shutting the glass door, barely giving Y/n time to save her fingers, “Not Daniel? Is there something you’re not telling us missy?” Jillian leaned against the wardrobe.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Y/n huffed, walking to another section of the wardrobe, still looking for the right top. It was a night market, with Keanu, she didn’t want to be too flashy, but she didn’t want to be plain either. Getting two hangers out, Y/n continued as she silently debated between a cream t-back blouse with a crocheted pattern at the back and a simple boho crop top, “I didn’t tell you because it never came up,” she shrugged.

“Well, if you don’t bring it up…..” Catherine shrugged, propping her elbows on the edge of the vanity, “Do we know him?” She wondered out loud, tilting her head with intrigue.

“Maybe,” Y/n sang teasingly, unable to combat her blush and giddy grin. Thoughts of Keanu always made her feel like a schoolgirl with her first boyfriend. It always started with a gentle flutter in her stomach, blooming further in her chest, spreading a welcome warmth throughout her body. The kind of feeling that made her want to sigh contentedly with an airy grin plastered on her face. Eventually, still smiling girlishly, Y/n chucked the crop top back among the other pieces of clothing, shaking the cream blouse off it’s hanger before pulling it over her head.

“Oh my gosh!” Jillian cackled wildly, “It’s Keanu!” She slapped Y/n’s shoulder playfully. Y/n blushed, hard, trying to brush off their excitement as she went to the wall with shelves of shoes, her fingers ghosting a pair of ankle boots before deciding against it.

Giggling, Y/n eventually slid a simple pair of black suede, flat pumps with straps off the shelf, “It might be,” when she went to sit next to Catherine, she was nudged in the arm, nearly falling off, “Hey!” Y/n squealed, gently nudging her back.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell us!” Catherine defended, “You said that you two hadn’t seen each other since Greece. How long have you been dating?”

“I don’t know,” Y/n shook her shoulders, “Like two months? Maybe a little more, we reconnected when he was in New York and I might have gone there two weeks ago,” without thinking much of it, she worked on the straps at the ankles.

Jillian gasped, reclaiming her former seat, “Wait,” she shook her head, the little diamonds of her wedding band shining as she ran her hand through her locks. Jillian had gotten married to Robert, very reluctantly so, shortly after Y/n had met Daniel, at a lavish ceremony in Napa Valley. Y/n knew that it wasn’t something her cousin wouldn’t have chosen for herself, but she’d done it to appease their families, the same way Y/n had kept seeing Daniel. It wasn’t like a part of her didn’t have any feelings for Daniel, she did, maybe if she’d never met Keanu, she could go as far as saying she loved him. But she had, and without doubt, Y/n knew that the connection she had with Keanu was far deeper, he made her feel things that people wrote about in books, she thought about him first thing in the morning and last before she fell asleep. He gave her butterflies and a sense of peace all at one.

She loved him.

Y/n thought she’d have to tell him some time.

“You were in Hawaii two weeks ago,” slowly put the pieces together, “You sent me pictures, and….what?”

“I was in Hawaii, and then I was in New York,” Y/n turned to finish her make-up, then ran the paddle brush through her tresses, “Air travel is a wonderful thing,” she teased.

“Don’t be sarcastic,” Jillian grumbled playfully, “We’re not the ones keeping secrets from our best friend and cousin.”

Just as Jillian was going to speak again, the doorbell sounded and Y/n stood abruptly, swiping up the denim jacket from the back of her cousin’s chair, “Would you look at that? Saved by the doorbell.” Both women followed her out of the bedroom and when they broke out of the hallway downstairs, Jillian flopped onto the sofa while Catherine went to the kitchen for Y/n’s bag. At the door, Y/n pulled on the barn handle, already knowing who stood on the other side of the heavy, oak, pivot door.

At the sight of her, his face lit up and Y/n was graced with one of his charming grins. His longish hair was tousled from removing his helmet and since filming had finished, Keanu had started letting his beard grow out a bit, the flecks of grey made more evident by the added length. That night, he’d dressed more or less the way he usually did in a leather riding jacket with a t-shirt inside with jeans and boots. Whistling lowly, Keanu drank her in, “You look…..”

“I look….?” Y/n easily submitted to his arms, looping her own around his neck, leaning into his chest just before he lifted her off the floor to kiss her in greeting. Giggling quietly against his lips, she kicked her feet a bit, while reveling in the sensation of his longer-than-usual scruff against her skin.

Keanu set her down eventually, playfully squeezing her ass before letting his hands slid up to her waist, “Absolutely gorgeous,” he finished. Keanu was really every woman’s dream, Y/n thought; ruggedly handsome, sweet and caring, fantastic in bed and always knew what to say to make your heart flutter.

Y/n’s cheeks and the tips of her ears took on a pink hue as she pulled him inside, “You don’t look so bad yourself,” as they stumbled towards the living room, he caught her waist again, his lips trying to reach her neck. Though, because of their obvious height difference and the fact that she wasn’t wearing heels, it was hard, even worse considering that they were still walking and in the end, Y/n and Keanu tripped clumsily as they entered the room, both a giggling mess. “Look at what you made us do!” Y/n accused lightly, grabbing the back of the sectional to steady them.

“Me?” Keanu laughed, reeling her back in, “It’s not my fault you’re so tiny. My tiny lady,” he growled his last words, circling Y/n’s waist, bending lower so he could actually reach her neck. Throwing her head back, she laughed wildly, one hand tangling in Keanu’s hair while the other stayed on his forearm.

“You do know where still here right?” Jillian's words had the couple breaking apart, their laughter settling and Keanu’s hands going to grip Y/n’s shoulder.

“Of course we did,” Y/n nodded, trying, and failing, to look serious. Just then, Catherine reentered, handing Y/n her little handbag, “Ke, you remember my cousin, Jill and my friend Cath.”

“I do,” he nodded stiffly, “Hi ladies,” Keanu waved quickly, his hand low.

“Hi,” Jillian and Catherine responded in unison. For a moment more, the four of them stood there, awkwardly, that was, until Y/n announced that she and Keanu would be leaving. They were already walking off when Jillian called after them, teasingly, “You kids don’t get into too much trouble!”

The night market in West Hollywood was crowded, as expected. In all directions, there were people brushing past them as they strolled through the area, looking on at booths selling everything from food to souvenirs. Along the way, Keanu had bought her a couple mementos and they’d tried finger food here and there. Eventually though, as the night wore on, after Y/n started saying that her feet hurt, they ducked into a small, heavily populated restaurant, claiming an empty table at the back, surrounded by chatter and music from outside. Keanu pulled his chair as close to Y/n’s as he could, draping his arm over her shoulders.

Y/n’s head was pressed into his side and they had already been served with drinks and a platter of appetizers, “You know,” Y/n mused, guiding a steamed dumpling to Keanu’s lips, giggling quietly when he tried to bite her fingers, “This is kind of like when we first hung out in Greece, except now….”

“I get to do this,” Keanu turned his head, catching Y/n’s lips in a deep kiss, only pulling away after a series of light pecks, “Whenever I want.”

Humming in agreement, Y/n shifted, hooking her left leg over his right one and trying to sink further into him. Keanu’s free hand slid up her thigh, feeling the smooth material of her leggings beneath the warmth of his palm, letting it linger right where his fingers could brush her sex. Leaning in Y/n kissed Keanu again, though that time, their lips locked for longer, one of her hands gripping his firm bicep while the other cupped his cheek. When his index rubbed tentatively on her clothed folds, Y/n moaned into Keanu’s mouth, letting the hand on his cheek fall to his crotch in retaliation. “We’re in public,” she breathed when they broke for air, still nose to nose.

“I know,” he smirked, pecking her once more, “Isn’t hot?” He chuckled.

It was. Y/n had never done anything that risky, and the thought of fooling around without people even realizing was more arousing than she expected it to be, but it wasn’t like she wanted to get in trouble, “It is,” she smiled shyly, “But what if we get caught?”

Keanu had started trailing kisses along her jaw by then, his arm draped around the back of Y/n’s chair moving to sneak up the hem of her blouse, his fingers working her in a circular motion through her pants more encouragingly by then. In turn, Y/n massaged him absently through his jeans, using his shoulder to steady herself. “We’ll just have to be quiet,” he whispered, his breath hot on her ear, “Relax babygirl, no one’s even paying attention to us.”

Y/n just whimpered softly, her breathing quickening, “Keanu,” it was louder than either of them expected it to be as Y/n tried to meet his lips again.

“Shh,” he encouraged, complying with her unspoken request, “Remember baby; quiet.” Arousal continuously pooled at her heated center and Y/n had started to subtly grind on Keanu’s fingers, becoming even more excited when she could readily feel his hardness pressing against the zipper of his jeans. His fingers sent sparks up her back as he ghosted her spine.

Emboldened, Y/n single-handedly undid Keanu’s pants, using her body to block out prying eyes as she dipped her hands down his boxers, smiling when he hissed at the coldness of her rings. Her thumb fought to spread a bead of precum that had already gathered at his head. The friction of her panties added to his ministrations quickly had Y/n becoming a moaning mess. Their food and drinks sat forgotten on the table and though neither of them had realized it, Y/n and Keanu had started to receive questioning glares and comparisons to handsy teenagers.

“Come on,” Keanu urged Y/n’s hand out his pants, encouraging her to stand first. Their chairs scraped loudly on the terrazzo as they stood, and with his hands on her hips and his undone pants hidden by Y/n’s back pressed to his front, Keanu guided her to the corridor where the bathrooms were. After a cautionary look around, they dashed into the ladies room, headed for the last stall.

The swinging door banged loudly as Y/n shoved it closed, subsequently locking it. Immediately, she turned, a wide grin plastered on her face as she pulled Keanu in by the collar of his jacket. Simultaneously Keanu shoved down her pants and lacy underwear, only managing to fully disrobe her right leg, her shoe slipping off carelessly. His own pants and underwear were a close second, though, they only managed to reach his knees before he was hoisting Y/n up in his arms.

Her bare leg went around his waist, the other hanging limply. “You ready for me?” Already, Keanu was lining himself up with Y/n’s soaked entrance, his tip brushing her slickness.

“Uh-huh,” she breathed, nodding vigorously. When Keanu pushed into her, Y/n moaned so loud that it might have been heard outside of the small bathroom. Without moving, Keanu lingered inside of her for a moment, breathing obscenities into her ear, adoring the way her wet, tight warmth always cocooned him perfectly, no matter many times he’d had her.

“Move,” Y/n whined, “Please move.” With a throaty grunt, Keanu obliged, stirring up an onslaught of rough thrusts. One of his hands remained to steady Y/n’s hip while the other slid up under her top, by passing her bra and interchanging between groping her breast and pinching her nipple. “Fuck,” Y/n groaned sneaking between them to rub her cilt, her fingers applying pleasurable pressure to her mound.

Keanu’s breathing was heavy and audible as he pumped and out of her, his balls loudly slapping her core with each movement. Behind Y/n, their harsh pace had the old wooden stall door creaking, and the only things keeping them from being totally discovered was the live music wafting through the small, faulty crank window hung high on the discolored wall. The yellow light from the lone bulb was dim, casting their shadows on each other's bodies. He could barely see Y/n like that, his looming shadow darkening her features, but Keanu had long committed her to memory and the combination of her sounds and merely the way she felt; the way she clung to him for dear life, and even more so, the way her tight cunt felt around his throbbing cock, was more than enough to keep him enticed.

As always, Keanu easily reached her deepest points of pleasure with each roll of his hips and Y/n could feel the coil in the lowest pit of her stomach tightening, nearly ready to burst. The bundle of nerves being worked by her fingers was swollen and throbbing and the feeling of his length buried inside her; each bump and vein rough against her walls was unmatched. “Ke, I’m close,” her divulgence was a pleading whine.

Keanu’s forehead was pressed to hers, his jaw clenched, his lower half doing most of the work, “I know,” he grunted, already feeling her stiffen around him, “Me too.”

It wasn’t long before the tightly wound coil was snapping and Y/n was moaning loudly, throwing her head back as she shut her eyes, fireworks dancing along her lids as waves of pleasure coursed through her body. Y/n’s walls clenched around Keanu’s member, squeezing tightly as he rigidly rode out her orgasm, coming into his own. The bucking of his hips faltered as Keanu spilled his creamy load into her and he buried his face in her neck, sucking down on Y/n’s pulse point to silence himself, her hair falling like a silky curtain over his face.

When Keanu eventually pulled out, Y/n winced at the new hollowness between her thighs. Leaning on the door as he set her down, her knees felt like jelly; wobbly and boneless, barely able to support her weight. Likewise, Keanu planted his arms above Y/n’s head, looking down at her as he leaned forward. It took awhile for them to collect their bearings, but just before they moved to clean themselves up, Y/n laughed breathily, “What?” Keanu cocked a curious brow.

“Nothing,” Y/n giggled giddily, “It’s just, our entire relationship was formed from sex, and now I’m in love with you.”

Keanu chuckled too. He’d been waiting over two weeks to see if she’d say it again; not wanting to overstep by seemingly saying it first but also not wanting to ask Y/n if she remembered her drowsy admission in New York. Still though, even as Y/n spilled her thoughts at the most inopportune moment; right after a quickie in a sub par bathroom, Keanu found that he was pleasantly surprised. It was hardly the moment anyone pictured exchanging ‘I love yous’, but somehow, despite that, it was perfect, it seemed right. “Well,” Keanu’s hand settled low at Y/n’s back and as he bent to kiss her, she arched so their lips would meet, “I’m in love with you too,” he admitted when they pulled away.

“Good,” Y/n tossed her arms around Keanu’s neck, standing on her toes, “Because otherwise I’d be really offended.”

“I wouldn’t want to cause any kind of offense, now would I?” Keanu’s tone was low and teasing, gathering Y/n up in his arms again. Through, loud and sudden banging on the stall door followed by threats to call security had the two stifling giggles and Y/n apologizing and promising that they were heading out right then.

Hurriedly, they cleaned themselves up and before long, Y/n and Keanu had made their way out to the main room again, only to clear the check and head out, hoping that they were as discreet as possible.

In retrospect, it might have been their favor to be far more discreet, for just as Y/n and Keanu sped away on his bike, snaps shot by prying eyes were being circulated on most platforms, being sold to the media, making the rounds, all the way back to a certain mother in Beverly Hills.

******

Tagging- @harrisongslimited @paanchu786 @a-really-bi-girl @baphometwolf666 @sdaff2

#keanu reeves #Keanu reeves x you #Keanu reeves x reader #Keanu reeves fanfic #john wick #john wick fanfic #john wick x reader #fanfic #john wick x you #rpf #ff #keanu reeves fanfiction #fanfiction #lullaby #lullaby chapter 13

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funkymbtifiction · 4 years

Text

You’ve mentioned taking this time away from blogging to understand MBTI and Enneagram better. Do you plan on doing some sort of “my updated views on type x” posts? I’m curious to know if there was any major change on how see and recognize each type.

Reading Lenore Thompson’s Personality Type book was a major breakthrough for me, in understanding the functions I don’t have – especially high Se, Si, and Ti. In the past, a lot of my understanding was gathered haphazardly from all over the place – from reading and trying to understand Jung (not easy) to reading other people’s stuff about it (some of it right, some of it wrong) – and the bad thing about online learning is that a lot of people who take an avid interest in personality typing are intuitives, which means they have zero understanding of what a sensing function looks like from the ‘inside.’ They will either attribute their own clumsy lower sensing function (which is often rigid, controlled, and weak) to a sensing type, which means their misunderstanding of it translates into traits and thinking processes that actual sensors cannot resonate with, because it is so NOT LIKE THEM (well, it wouldn’t be, coz an N wrote it!).

In that regard, it’s become much easier for me to identify Si-doms, due to their tendency to develop personalized expertise on something of avid interest to them – the ‘learner of all, master of none’ is a Ne trait, the ‘I happen to be the world’s leading expert on [insert thing here]’ is a Si trait. Jackie Robinson, being an expert on baseball, and that being something that absorbed his entire life, was decidedly a Si-dom trait; being an expert on ancient mythology and turning his own personal experiences into fantasy was Tolkien’s Si-dom fascination; etc. If you look around you, you’ll see this tendency a lot in Si-doms. Some particular thing strikes a chord with them, whether it is Disney or old movies or golf or stamp collecting or the Revolutionary War, and little by little they become an ‘expert’ simply because they have read more about it, and studied more about it, and thought more about it, and been absorbed for years by it, than anyone else.

Se-doms were always a mystery to me, and it did not help that I had been misinformed about Si vs Se methods of learning styles. I knew Se-doms were hands-on learners, but not how bodily they can adjust while doing something in order to gain a better result the next time – it’s instinctive for them. THEY are the people who actually respect the most an ‘expert’s’ HANDS ON knowledge. So if a Si type reads a book on scuba diving, they may feel equipped to scuba dive; a Se will want to talk to someone who has been scuba diving, and hear what it is like – the currents, the jolt of adrenaline, what they did in a crisis moment, and then they will want to do it, and learn AS they are adjusting to the environment. Viewing them as thrill-seeking hedonists does them a disservice, because their bodily awareness is absolutely jaw-dropping insanely incredible – they can just ‘lose themselves’ in things. For hours. Being TOTALLY in the present.

Ti is still so foreign to my own thinking I find it harder to grasp, but figuring out a Ti ‘figures out things while they are doing them’ did help me a bit – because I can look at the high Ti’s in my life and see that’s true. In fact, they will say they’ll ‘figure it out once they get there.’ I’ll have to read the Ti-dom chapter several more times to get the full grasp of it, because I can’t anchor it yet to any clear objective examples.

You’ve probably noticed some characters have changed type since I moved them over to the wordpress blog. That will probably continue to happen, as going through and saving old characters has forced me to evaluate whether this character actually fits the patterns established based on my new understanding. Some intuitives have become sensors, because I realized they were never Ne’s at all; some sensors have become intuitives, because there’s nothing hands-on-learning about their approach to life, it’s all whimsical Ne. Some characters, I’ve realized that I wasn’t sure about, are now SJs because of their Si tendencies. Etc. I didn’t get them all right, and I am still not getting them all right, but over time I hope to be more accurate and concise and not rush as much to reach a firm conclusion. It’s a fault of my own high Ne/low Te that I am not as meticulous as I should be in gathering and providing evidence.

Enneagram-wise, I’ll shoot straight with you. Probably because I am a 6, it is very hard to split my focus and analyze multiple things or characters at the same time. I want to focus on one person or task, since I am used to doing that. So trying to think about cognition and behaviors and separate that from their motives / what they want (Enneagram, and figure out “Okay… so the emphasis on ‘doing the right thing’ is actually because this person is a Fi-dom and NOT a 1…’ is… hard. Sometimes so hard that I will watch something once, to get their MBTI type down, and then watch it again thinking ONLY about the Ennagram. But of course, with long serials I don’t have that luxury. I don’t have another 10 hours to spend on this. Sometimes, a character’s Enneagram comes through loud and clear, and sometimes I don’t have a clue so I make my best guess. I am still reading and re-reading and studying the Enneagram and learning it as best I can, but since I am much newer at it than at MBTI, my conclusions are not always as firm on characters with dubious intentions / motives / sloppy writing.

When I type, I am sort of paying attention to everything all at once, and trying to keep track of all the characters (or just the leads, if I know no one cares about the side characters) and if I get stuck on the Enneagram, I yank out the cards I made with the basic traits / an image of a notable character of that type and play the comparison game. I keep a mental record of ‘things against this type’ – in short, I look for these things in characters:

1s: anal, responsible, duty-driven, can be harsh or refuse to make allowances

2s: warm, inviting, receptive, helpful, desperate for love, can be manipulative

3s: self-confident, ambitious, driven, out of touch with self, can be braggarts

4s: highly emotional (expressive or not relies on wing), deep, melancholic, focused on what they don’t have vs. what they do, can be self-absorbed / emo

5s: self-trusting in their own logic, ruthlessly logical, arrogant, lives minimally, can be misers and/or refuse to participate in society itself

6s: suspicious, distrustful, cautious, but also funny / eager for others to like them, suffers self-doubt and at times, paranoia or anxiety about significant other

7s: witty, full of banter, doesn’t like to be tied down, escape artists, distracts people off things they don’t like through humor, can be irresponsible

8s: strong will, unafraid of anyone else, domineering, can be argumentative or needlessly push others in the story to get what they want

9s: mild-mannered, receptive, sweet, hates conflict / lets others have their way, can be too passive and/or their plot line suffers from a lack of ‘agency’

If stuck, I compare as to who this character is more like, ‘in that way.’ It helps.

Character examples for comparison: 1 Atticus Finch (To Kill a Mockingbird), 2 Mike Wheeler (Stranger Things), 3 P.T. Barnum (The Greatest Showman), 4 Rose de Witt Bukater (TITANIC), 5 Sherlock Holmes (the books), 6 Brett Maverick (from the Mel Gibson movie; the original James Garner Maverick is a healthy social 8w9), 7 Lorelai Gilmore (Gilmore Girls), 8 Princess Leia (Star Wars), 9 Beth March (Little Women).

- ENFP Mod

#question #enneagram #mbti #submission

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