#I don't really want this job considering idk when my interview will be but my dad is on my ass about finding a job

[kyaruun]

job hunting in this stupid country sucks so much more than people want to admit. really got told "idk how you didn't find a job yet with your cv" straight to my face as i was being rejected

i also was told "as a girl in compsci it's so weird that you didn't get a job yet? enterprises should be killing to hire you because you're a girl" and i've never wanted to commit a crime anywhere near as much </3

[roomthirtythree]

there is a chance that I will go back to the ham job

the ham job is me running around a cold warehouse for 8-12 hours loading hams and other such products on trays and then shipping them off

not a fascinating job BUT my visa costs money and guess what

Best way to hatch my pokemon go eggs...

[loganlermanstanaccount]

Rigor Mortis (part 8)

College roommate!Miguel O'Hara x reader

(AO3 Mirror) (Wattpad) Series Masterlist, Main Masterlist,

Part 7, Part 9

summary: You visit your ex. Miguel tags along.

warnings: mentions and description of depression. heavy angst, depictions of a toxic relationship. some suggestive language.

a/n: me when idk shit abt the american school system:

Thank you to my beta readers, @tianyhi and @urgonnaneedabiggership (they also write Miguel fics, I highly recommend! my favourite is this series), I couldn't have done it without you guys <3

Join my taglists here

wc: 5.8k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

you had forgotten; they were good.

Blank walls. Quiet corridors. The buzz of monitors and dull chatter sandwiched between blue vinyl and exit signs. You're not usually one to wander during your breaks; but you're going crazy looking at the same four walls. 

That hair net itches and the strap of a blue mask digs into skin as you make your way to a little courtyard. You sit out on a paltry bench overlooking concrete. The spindly remnants of a tree provides little cover from harsh elements. Wind whips through its branches, whistling and cool, as you rip off the mask and crumple it up in your pocket. A heavy sigh, and you feel some semblance of peace. Some quiet, before the morning comes. Before a rush of orders and shunting plastic trays up and down the wards. 

You screw your eyes shut to still the pounding at your temples. God. You're grateful for the job, really. And all things considered, it's not particularly taxing: coffee orders until the little cafe closes, meal prep for the morning rush, and sometimes you'd volunteer to take orders to bed bound patients. A whole lot of reheating and chopping and pressing buttons on the little machines. You don't quite get it, of course, but your lone coworker picks up the slack well enough. 

The older woman doesn't do much for company, anyways. Riveting conversation comes in the form of grunts and sharp elbows when you get in the way or round the corner of the kitchen. It has you counting down the seconds until your shift ends. 

And so you are grateful, well and truly. Jamie's not so sappy, anymore; doesn't partake in 'I love you's or grand gestures; but he is dependable. Safe. Willing to stick his neck out for you, at least. He'd gotten you a job at the hospital he has his placement at; with decent pay, and it slots in well with your other ones. He's taking you seriously – taking the news better than your parents. After telling him you wanted to go back to school, you're not met with thinly veiled disbelief, or lips pressed together with pity. He'd nodded, rather simply. Didn't make a fuss. No deep sighs, or heavy frowns. Okay , he had said. How can I help? 

It was the simplicity of his reaction that had bowled you over, almost bringing you to tears. To have someone believe in you, for once – wholeheartedly and without an onslaught of questions – felt like a deep breath of air after almost drowning. It felt like love ; and after desperate breaths, gasping and gulping and clawing at something to hold on to, you think you've found dry land. Something solid, something stable; a rough palm to pull you out of swirling depths. Because, unlike your family, and unlike half-hearted friends: Jamie was there. 

After heading back in to catch the morning rush, you're wiping down surfaces and sorting plastic trays onto a cart. Rote, repetitive, boring; you've settled into a routine that feels familiar. A couple more months, you reckon, and you'll be able to cover the costs for a second go at undergrad. You can shed the skin that seems to follow you at every family gathering, and the job interviews in between. Dropout – and when your Mom says it, it feels like a vile curse. Jamie calls it spiteful, and you opt for the democratic alternative; she's being dramatic - rather than cruel, rather than hurtful, rather than crass. You've heard enough, from all sorts: ‘too much pressure’, and ‘didn't think she had it in her, anyways’, are common phrases whispered in the background of phone calls home. 

Your chest aches with the weight of it – the kind of ache that seeps into skin, and lines a casket. Grief; mourning a person you could've been, and a person you never would be. For a while, it left you paralysed by the what ifs and the maybes; rotting in a quiet corner. Sinking into sofa cushions or caked onto the bed sheets like the mystery mould bloomed onto the plates in your room. But Jamie was there, more than anyone else. 

You'll wait for him in the corridor near the back of the service elevator, like you always do after a shift. You finish when he starts, early in the morning and rubbing away sleep from his eyes for ward rounds. You'll give him a kiss, and he'll give you a soft little smile to send you on your way. It almost makes the whole thing worth it. Almost. 

You give and you give and you give. Your boyfriend isn't quite the same; doesn't pour into you the way you'd like him to. But it works. It works because it has to; a thousand miles away from anything resembling home. You can't ask for more – the right words die in your throat. 

~~~

You've spent the past couple of hours in the library. Procrastinating for at least half of it, but you've managed to draft out a couple of essays and more or less reorganise your life. It's something you've been dreading for the past week or so; letting yourself get swept up in the monsoon that is your roommate. Miguel – sarcastic, saccharine-sweet Miguel – and his stupidly pretty lips, his pretty hands, and the pretty way he scrunches up his face like he's smelt something rotten. 

You're staring at a computer with a slew of books spread out on the adjacent desk. Your half-finished report seems to jumble together on the screen; a tangle of citations and filler words and shitty diagrams. It's not quite clicking , and it's making you want to tear out chunks of your hair in search of relief. A tale as old as time, one you can merely wallow in and fold yourself between its pages. Struggling at school; and this time it's a stats module you thought would be an easy couple of credits, that you definitely can’t afford to fail if you want to graduate early. 

You’ve picked a quiet spot on the third floor; a computer bay tucked into the corner. It overlooks a little window, cramped and claustrophobic and mystery mould in the corners of its grout. You've resorted to scanning the cracks with sharp eyes, light fingers on your neck to trace the leftovers of the morning. You can see it in the slightly mirrored surface of cloudy glass; you look like shit, you feel like shit, but you can still feel him. Lips on your neck, sucking soft hickies into the skin; and you can't help but like the way it looks on you. It's the same under your jeans, blooming like mauve and purple heather on a sprawling field.

You cross your legs, wincing at the dull ache that spreads. Sore, in that way that feels good; sending flashes of a morning with Miguel. Fingers knuckle deep in your cunt and the heat of him – cut and lean-lined – on top of you; it's impossible to ignore. Condensation drips from the panes, pooling in its corner and you swipe a finger in it, lazily. Again, you're reminded of him, for the thousandth time in the past hour: shaking legs, fisting his cock, spraying fat globs of his cum onto your face and chest. 

With another glimpse of your reflection, you sigh. Deep and heavy, with the weight of half a decade of frustration, sexual or otherwise. You've never felt this good or had your needs satiated so wholly, so exorbitantly. It feels odd. You don't know where to put your hands, how to place your feet on the floor. Do you shout, do you scream? How do you tell all the poor bystanders that scatter the third floor: I'm sleeping with Miguel O'Hara! A walking red flag with cheekbones that could cut glass! He wants me, and I want–

Your phone rings. The noise catches you off guard, and has you stumbling to press accept. 

"Hey," Miguel's voice sounds tinny in the speakers, and so you press it to your ears. 

"Y-Yeah?" You steel yourself, batting away daydreams of your legs wrapped around his middle – too horny for your own good, clearly. 

"I'm outside, chula. " He stops talking. The quiet ticking of an indicator becomes the only sign of life, before he says, "In that parking bay by the–" 

"I know, I know. Give me 5 minutes." You rush to pack up, clicking off the monitor and haphazardly shoving your notes into your bag. Not everything fits, and you give up trying to cram that textbook in. 

A beat passes before you realise he's still on the phone. Quiet, but still there. 

"…I brought food, by the way." 

You only just manage to catch it, slotting the phone between your ear and shoulder. That makes you perk up. 

" Seriously? " You give him a small laugh. You think you can hear him smile through the phone. "Thank fucking God, I'm starving. But you weren't rushing, or anything, right? I mean, it's so soon after your session with… Sally, or–" 

You're bounding down two steps at a time, so eager to see him – to get food , actually – that you're careless going down the stairs.

"Sarah . " He breathes, and you make your way downstairs. 

It stops you in your tracks, for some reason. 

"Okay. Sarah ." You say it with finality, voice tight. "What did you end up doing anyways? At her place, you said?" 

"Pressure differentials. Modelling viscosity. It's not very interesting." He hums, shifting in his seat. "What about you? Did you get something done?" 

You take a beat too long to respond, and it comes out half-baked. 

"Loads, Mig."

He snorts. " Sure. "

" Fuck you. " You say it under your breath, ducking past the entrance, and into a side road.

And there Miguel is, car heaped onto part of the sidewalk. He's leaning back, lazy arm sticking out the car window, showing off muscle and pretty tan skin. It's getting cold, but he's cracked the car door ajar; donned in a well-fitting t-shirt and slack trousers. 

You're trying not to drool; and he makes it a little easier by flashing a shit-eating grin. 

Childishly, you stick your tongue out; wrenching the door open and slumping into the passenger side. You tuck your things by your feet, and it lands on the floor with a thump. 

"You can put your stuff in the back.. . " Miguel frowns.

" Can't. We need the space, remember?" 

To pick up the rest of your things left in your ex's apartment. You hope he can parse out the rest of that from a raised eyebrow. 

He sighs, tossing a brown bag of takeout onto your lap. He starts the car. "...I didn't think we were still doing that, to be honest."

He seems disappointed, eyes flitting this way and that as he reverses and pulls out. You must've hit your head at some point, because you're in heat – pressing sore legs together at the way he does it. One arm on the back of your headrest, sharp jaw jutting out as he looks back, and bottom lip hooked under his teeth; he's just concentrating, trying not to hit one of the cat-sized rodents that roam the streets this late at night, and he's still hot . 

"You promised ."

"I had my face between your thighs. Would've said anything if it meant I could have more."

You draw your lips in faux disgust – your heart's not in it, but it's enough to make him chuckle. 

"Fuck you."

He doesn't miss a beat, deadpanning, "...you'd like that."

Lips pursed, you ignore the way it twists your stomach into knots. Steadfast, you stare out at the window, watching the yellow lights of a bustling city pass you by. 

Miguel takes a different turning, one that'll take you across the city and away from your place. To Jamie's, most likely. You soften, taking a moment to look across at him. 

His eyes flit over, intense and almost a deep red in the neon and lights. It's barely a couple of seconds, but he knows, just like that. 

"Are you nervous?" He tests the waters, voice steady and non-committal. It's not an accusation; even though everything feels like one, lately. Not from him, though. Never from him. 

" No ." Your tone is betraying, and you both know it. He seems to pretend not to hear that tremor in your voice. 

"You'll be okay, sweetheart." He says it soft and low, not quite looking at you. 

"It's just… it's the first time I'm going to see him after–" Your voice crackles. "After everything."

"You'll be okay," He starts. It doesn't feel like an empty platitude when he says it: it feels genuine and full-bodied and sonorous, clanging around your head like the chime of church bells. "Probably not right away – it's going to hit you like a semi, first. And you'll feel like shit afterwards. But it won't last. You'll move on, and you'll be okay; because you have to be."

He drifts off somewhere far away when he says that last bit; and you're not too sure what he's talking about anymore. Regardless, you wrap his words around you, holding it to your chest like a little songbird in the cradle of a tree. 

You'll be okay. You have to be. 

It feels less solid when it's not Miguel saying it, you think. You don't tell him that, though, sinking into the seat instead. 

He doesn't let that silence sit for too long. Traffic creates a natural lull, and he reaches over to tap at the book in your lap – one of many different textbooks, the rest of which is lodged in your bag.

"You're taking a stats module, I assume."

You nod. 

"With Dr. Karev?" 

You sit up slightly. "...yeah, actually."

He hums. "You thought it would be an easy A, then." 

He's right, but it doesn't make it sting any less. You were hoping for simple math and data processing, and here you were: drowning in matrices and linear algorithms.

 "I thought it would be."

"Let me help you, then. I took one of his classes and he barely changes the syllabus. I could dig up my old notes, and–" 

"You want to tutor me ?" You splutter – but you don't mean to sound as shocked as you do. " Why? " 

"Why not?" He shrugs. 

"I… I don't have any money, or anything."

"M'not offering because I want money." He's nonchalant, inching towards the car up front. 

You squint. It's not adding up. "What's the catch?" 

"No catch, I swear. Is it so hard to believe I'm being nice?" 

Now, you feel guilty. "Sorry, Mig. I appreciate it, I really do–" 

"Sit on my face and we'll call it even."

He turns to you now, face flat but with a twinkle in his eye. The corners of his mouth are slightly upturned - amused. He thinks this is funny? 

You give him a light shove as the traffic starts to break up. He's riled you up, now, and you're much too annoyed to be nervous. 

"Eyes on the road, asshole." 

It's more bark than bite, and you settle into the seat, finally cracking open the paper bag. You munch on fries and it makes him laugh. Miguel swears he can see it: the hint of a gentle smile on your face. 

~~~

He pulls up to the apartment complex. Modest, close to the hospital; and you probably couldn't have afforded to live there without your ex. Jamie was lucky; his parents could foot the bill of moving out, and he had family that lived in the city. 

It feels odd to be on the outside looking in. The building's windows become snapshots into other people's lives. For some, it meant an early night, blinds drawn and lights off. From the parking lot, you can see the dim yellow of lights streaming through other apartments. Silhouettes flit past every now and then; the only sign of life. 

Jamie's apartment is on the top floor, the two windows on the far right. You crane your head out of the car window, to get a better look. The lights are on, with one window left slightly ajar. 

Miguel moves to get out, with shuffling that breaks the silence. You stop him with a hand on his arm. 

"No, no. I'm going up by myself."

He cocks his head to the side, ever so slightly. 

"...you sure? If you need help shifting boxes, I can–" 

"I'm good, Mig. I just needed the car."

It comes out snappier than you meant it to, already irritable. With that, you pop the door open with a thunk . You can't see it, but he frowns, watching you swish and sway towards the entrance. 

You trace familiar steps to Jamie's apartment. The door code hasn't changed, and so you buzz yourself in. This is something you can do quickly and efficiently, you've decided. In and out, and you don't have the energy for much else. Bracing at the door, you get ready to knock, hand curled into a fist. 

The door swings open before you get the chance. He's there; still in light blue scrubs and a name badge pinned to his chest. It's the first thing you see, trying not to look at his face. But it's like pulling teeth, you decide: less painful when it's quick and sharp. 

" Where's my –" 

" Your stuff's in the –" 

In a great clash of words, you finally look up at him. Where you're expecting some form of emotion – a flash of something, even for just a moment – Jamie is steadfast. Blank; blinking back sleep, if anything. You clamp down what feels like bile rising in your throat and push past him into the front room. 

"Is this how it's going to be?"

Head down, you grit a quiet, "Don't . "

It's just as you left it, to the point it's almost comical. The same pillows you'd bury yourself in after work, the patterned tea towel you'd bought on a whim. The bar stools in lieu of a proper dining table, and that great big desk he had insisted on carting to the living room for years . Bits and pieces of you, of your relationship, and he barely bats an eye. He'll use your mugs and sleep on your patterned sheets. 

It makes you sick .

You head to the second room. There's a stack of boxes, hastily stashed in the corner. There's still permanent marker on them from when you first moved in. Now, it houses the things you couldn't take with you the first time – everything you left behind. 

Sick, sick, sick . 

You take a moment to dig through the top box, that's clearly been moved. Knick-knacks, books, clothes and all the clutter you've acquired; and it reminds you of family, it reminds you of friends. 

Jamie leans by the doorway, looking on in silence. 

When you pick up a box, straining to lift it, he doesn't offer to help. He watches as you flounder, dragging it towards the door. 

You're huffing when he finally says something; something that's clearly been on his mind for a while, with the way he says it. 

"Are you seeing someone?" He's looking out of the window, gaze fixed on the car parked outside. Miguel's car. 

Your eyes widen. You don't quite trust yourself to speak.

You leave the box by the door. "Are you?“

He shrugs. "Don't have the time."

It's noncommittal and frustratingly blasé. He's not giving you much, and it's fucking with your head. This whole thing feels like a big joke – he wants to talk, and all he's doing is asking bullshit questions. Once upon a time, you would've stewed in it; sat with that question on your tongue and let it rot. 

"I don't understand." You croak. It hurts to say out loud, but you say it. That's the important part. "I don't know why you're doing this… why are you still doing this?"

"I don't like how we left things." He says it slow, like he's choosing his words carefully. 

You want to scream.

" So? " 

" So , I need some kind of closure. We've got unfinished business."

" Unfinished business? " You roll it around on your tongue, reeling at its bitter taste. It feels clinical and lifeless, yet again. 

And then… oh. It clicks. Looking at him, arms folded and leaning on a wall, he looks antsy and uncomfortable. Now, when forced to face you. 

" Closure. " Another word that tastes like shit. You give a watery laugh. "You feel guilty."

He doesn't say anything but his body language says enough. He shifts his weight side to side, unable to make eye contact. 

You don't bother to stick around for an answer, snatching up the box as best you can. Through the doors, and down the corridor. You stagger down the flight of stairs, gritting your teeth. It's heavy – you've packed as much as you can inside, trying to get this over quickly – and you make it to the first floor before it clatters onto the steps. 

You fold ; knees drawn to your chest and hands tight in your hair. Heart racing, chest pumping: you're trying not to get swept away by heavy emotions. The tide rises. You pump your legs around the swirling mass - barely staying afloat in deep, deep water. 

You'll be okay. 

You remember Miguel's words, gentle and sweet and kind. You remember the way he said it; firmly, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. The kind of grace that you don't have to work for and doesn't need a performance. He believes in you, at least; thinks you're stronger than you have any right to be. And you think of him in the car: eager to help and reassure. You brushed him off. You were mean. 

Deep breath. 

Miguel's waiting for you, just outside those doors. Diligent and patient, saccharine-sweet Miguel. Getting up, you make your way down the stairs with that box. 

When he spots you, a pretty little thing in a hoodie and jeans, he leaps out of the car. 

"Hey, hey, easy… " 

"I'm good, Mig – " 

You're struggling with the box, and he eases it out of your hands without breaking a sweat. One hand on the boot of the car, the other holding up the heavy box effortlessly, and he gives you a quick once over. 

"...he didn't offer to help?" His face is scrunched up - disgusted by the looks of it - and all you can manage is a limp shrug. 

It doesn't take him long to figure it out. You're dejected; nervous, down-trodden, blue in every meaning of the word; losing a little bit of that shine you had started the day with. If he had to guess, and he knows you well enough he'd bet money on it, it was that ex of yours – stealing away that light in a burlap sack, a thief in the brilliance of bright sun. 

It makes him grind his teeth, eyes flicking up at the fourth floor window. 

"I could help." He offers, a hand on your shoulder. It's your favourite hoodie, he thinks, as he circles the soft fabric with his thumb. 

You purse your lips, thinking it over. 

"It'll be quicker, chula. "

That pushes you over the edge, and you finally nod. 

It must be a sight, knocking at the door with Miguel hot on your heels. After living with him for so long, you've forgotten how intimidating he can be when you first meet him; taller than Jamie, and mean-mugging the blonde with a deadly look. If you weren't so on edge it would make you laugh: you know your roommate is mostly harmless. 

Jamie doesn't, of course. He visibly bristles, looking you both up and down. 

"I just need some help with the boxes. This is my roommate, Miguel."

You turn to the man beside you.

" Miguel ," You say it softer. "This is Jamie."

Wordlessly, he stretches out a palm,

rough and broad and tan. Hesitant, the man in front of you takes it. 

"Hey, man." Jamie flashes you a strange look when he says it. 

Miguel doesn't answer. 

You lead him to the second room, divvying up the boxes as Jamie hovers at the doorway. It's surprisingly efficient: Miguel insists on taking the heaviest boxes, hauling them up onto his shoulders, before stacking them up at the door. You'll take the smaller stuff, and it seems everything will be done in far fewer trips than before. It's hard to say out loud, but you're grateful for his help – Miguel was right , for once. 

After the first trip, he's bounding back up the stairs for more. You've both made it into a game, with neither one of you having to explain the rules. He pinches your arm whilst you sift through boxes, and you stick your tongue out in response. Elbow deep in crap, and he manages to make it feel a little better. 

Jamie stews. Jamie festers. In a corner of what used to be your shared apartment, he pretends to tap at his phone, uninterested. You know him too well for that facade to stick. 

Miguel takes the last of the boxes down, and you're straggling behind, picking up the last few bits and pieces. You're left alone with your ex, for a brief moment. 

"You're fucking him." He says it quiet, in a whisper that sounds oh-so loud in that little room. Fucking. He spits it out, and makes the word feel cheap and dirty. 

You look up from across the room. Slowly, he traverses its width, gaze pinning you down like a bug under a microscope. 

He brings a hand to your chin, cupping the flesh tenderly. It's intimate and familiar, reminding you of better days. Something bubbles up in your stomach, sweet and innocent. That feeling doesn't last long. 

"You're fucking him." 

It's accusatory, spat out with a rueful smile pulling at his lips. His fingers brush over your throat and you squirm, pulling up the mouth of your hoodie. 

Those hickies, blossoming like flowers in the spring. They crackle across your skin like fallen leaves in autumn. 

"It's none of your fucking business."

"Of course you are. I can't believe you." He rolls his eyes, half-laughing. "I was going to apologise! I was planning to say sorry for the way I handled things and you had to rub it in my face."

" What ?" You croak. 

"You brought the guy you're fucking to our apartment!" He explodes. 

His lips flatten into a tight line.

" ...now it's our apartment? You kicked me out. You dumped me ." 

"Don't…. fuck , don't do that. Don't make me the bad guy, here. I gave you plenty of time to find a new place."

"Two. Weeks." You grit. "You gave me two weeks, asshole. You left me alone, and told me to fend for myself whilst you fucked off to your sister's." 

That fire dies down as he hesitates. "I… I would've let you stay longer. You know that, baby."

" No. No I don't know, 'cuz you don't tell me shit , anymore." You blink back hot tears. "I don't make as much money as you do, and my family can't support me like yours can."

"I would've–" 

"You didn't. " You swallow roughly. "You didn't. I don't even know what I did wrong ."

"No, no." He cradles your face with his hands, swiping at stray tears. "You didn't do anything wrong."

Now, you look up at him. With glistening eyes, and a heavily furrowed brown, it barely comes out as a whisper; red-raw and strained. 

"Then why don't you love me?"

He doesn't deny it. There isn't a scramble to reassure you; to pat your head and kiss away tears to show you how much he cares. Instead, he steps away guiltily. 

"I care about you, of course I do. Remember when you changed your major?" 

You nod. 

"I was there, wasn't I? I stayed up for hours talking you through it. And when you dropped out, I came over on the weekends and brought you groceries."

"I was there. I helped you through that funk , and helped you get that job for school. Every stupid little question, every depressive episode, all those moments where no-one else would help: I did. Even though I had other things going on in my life, I showed up. For you. It was enough, for a while."

Until it wasn't. He sighs. 

"I'm starting my residency next year… and you're still in school, right?”

“Yes, I am.” You say it simply, not able to say much more without breaking down.

“I'm happy for you, really - proud that you actually got that far. But we're going in different directions, and at different paces. It's easier now that we're not together.”

You bristle at his tone: still in school, actually got that far . It oozes pomp and a quiet kind of superiority. Easier now, like it was difficult before. 

“I didn't make that decision because I hate you, or because I don't care about you. I know you're angry.” He places his hands on your shoulders, and doesn't break eye contact. For the first time since you got here, you think he's finally showing emotion; quiet melancholy just below the surface. Up this close, you can see it: deepening bags under his eyes, sallow skin, and fine lines. Jaime looks tired. In fact, he seems exhausted .  

“I'm sorry that I made you feel that way. But that doesn't excuse the fact that you brought your fuck buddy here, when I just wanted to talk.”

It feels cruel. The way he looks at you, and the way his demeanour switches from the Jamie you knew before, to this .  

"I wanted to talk." You strain. " Months ago. After you broke up with me, and disappeared off the face of the planet. Every time I called, crying and panicking, it went straight to voicemail." 

You shake his hands off of you, stepping back. 

"Miguel's a friend… did you ever think of that? Maybe I just needed some help moving my things, Jamie. Maybe I don't have that many friends since they stopped talking to me because of you, Jamie. Maybe, there's not some devious plot to spite you."

You pick up the rest of your stuff, a little basket of trinkets and books. The very same books that he had told you to pack up; to make some space for his textbooks. 

"Get your head out of your ass. Don't call me. Don't text me. I'm done. "

You're already halfway out of the door. With that, you start to storm off; clattering into Miguel by the stairs. When your things spill out of your hands, you both drop to your knees in a scramble to pick them up. You're chewing the inside of your cheek so hard it draws blood, fumbling around. Miguel is more efficient, scooping up your belongings back into its box. 

You're drooping, only able to mutter a quiet thanks. On the way to his car, you're dejected. Miguel watches carefully, trailing behind. 

~~~

He doesn't know what to say. 

You've left him speechless before. Many times, in the span of your couple months together. Miguel recalls it in exasperated messages to Lyla; you're something else entirely. Frustrating, sometimes. Quick-witted. Perceptive. Thoughtful. A million and one words to describe you, and yet, it still doesn't paint the full picture. You are multi-faceted and brilliant in a way he's not sure he completely understands. 

[Sent: 22:33]

Can't explain it, Ly. 

[Sent: 22:33]

I'm going fucking crazy. 

[Received: 22:34]

ur being dramatic :p

[Received: 22:34]

think u just need to get laid 

[Sent: 22:34]

Fuck off. 

[Sent: 22:35]

I said I'm taking a break. Meant it. 

[Received: 22:37]

(image attached) 

[Received: 22:37]

got this at the party

[Received: 22:37]

ur staring, mig

[Sent: 22:38]

… 

[Received: 22:38]

that's my dress! told u I have great taste :)) 

[Received: 23:06]

miggyyy

[Received: 23:06]

stop ignoring me! its not fun anymore >:(

That was a while ago. Before anything serious happened between you both. And he's had the privilege of seeing you in many different ways; stressed, angry, beaming with joy. Bouncing off the walls after too much coffee, or crawling out of bed following a late night. He's seen your lips curve to form a delicious O as you writhe underneath him; he's seen you smile. He'd tattoo it onto his skin, if he could. 

Fuck . He's overthinking it. 

You've retired to your spot on the couch, and yes, he's staring. Tracing the slope of your jaw and the tilt of nose outlined by the glow of the TV. After getting back home late, he brushed off limp protests and took most of the boxes up himself. It sits in a pile by the dining table. You'll deal with it tomorrow, he supposes. 

Retreating behind your ratty blanket, you stare blankly at the screen. Glassy eyes, you've curled up to watch reruns late into the night. Can't sleep, you told him, as he hovered by the doorway. 

He should go to bed. It's nothing to do with him, really, and he shouldn't have overheard as much as he did. Miguel is curious but not nosy, and well-versed on the art of minding your business . So he shouldn't feel his heart splintering; creaking like the trunk of a felled tree; hacked into two by the way he sees you drowning. 

He sits by your side. Not too close, of course, he's wary of all the shit you've been through today; not wanting to make you feel more uncomfortable. 

He's reminded of a childhood holiday. Half a summer spent at a campsite, bounding through woodland and creeks somewhere up north. Gabi and him would disappear, forgoing the beaten paths for their own adventure. Miguel couldn't make friends the way his brother could, so he'd straggle behind; watching from afar as the other kids would climb trees or swim in quiet lakes. Reading by the banks, and he remembers a time someone had slipped under the water. Drowning, and it wasn't anything like the movies. It was quick, silent and deadly. Thrashing under choppy water, and then…

…nothing. Just quiet. 

He feels that panic rising now, watching you stay so eerily still. You've slipped under the waves, and he doesn't know what to say to pull you back out. 

Miguel isn't too good with words. He's not known for his warmth, or comforting presence. Sometimes, he thinks he wasn't built with that switch turned on in his head – and he certainly didn't learn the right words from his parents. And so, he gives you comfort the only way he knows how. He shows you. He takes care of you. 

You come to him. Like two parts of a whole, you slot together perfectly: your head on his shoulder, at first. You end up on his chest, curled up like a housecat; matching shaky breaths to his steady ones. He brings a hand to your shoulder, drawing lazy circles in the fabric to soothe you. 

With the dull chatter and gloom of the TV, you fall asleep. It takes Miguel a little longer, but he wraps his arms around you. He listens out for it: the gentle rise and fall of your chest. Steady, like a metronome, and it grounds him – drowning out the creak of gears. 

_

_

_

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[insxghtt]

reschedule — bella ramsey x reader

All you wanted was to go back in time.

warnings: hurt/comfort. i used they/them pronouns for bella (bc i see that it's what pedro uses) and it was kind of difficult bc english is not my first language so if i got anything wrong i apologize. also bella said that they don't rlly care abt pronouns so i guess if i use she/her or he/him is ok right? idk let me know in the comments.

this was based on two requests: "hi babe can you write bella ramsey x reader where reader and bella are in a relationship but reader believes bella will leave them and bella reassures reader that they love them sm" / "bella and reader have a massive fight and reader thinks it’s a breakup but then bella comes and they makeup?"

You and Bella had been together for three years and not even once you doubted that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with them. Bella was everything you’ve ever wanted. They were kind, funny, beautiful, and most importantly, they always made sure to make you feel loved. 

You knew how important their career was to them and you respected that. The Last of Us was a huge success and Bella was out a lot, doing interviews and even getting new jobs. You were so proud of them and just seeing that sparkle in their eyes was enough to make you forget any problem you had going on. 

Well, you had a few problems going on. You just released your second book and the book launch was awesome, except for a little detail. Bella wasn’t there. 

It’s okay, you thought. They were busy with work. It happens. But just because it happens doesn’t mean that it didn’t hurt a bit. Especially when you found out that they didn’t show up because of an interview. Interviews can be rescheduled. Especially when it was someone like Bella. Pedro rescheduled an interview two times a while ago just because his sister needed some help with the children. He said that family always comes first. 

It was your second book. You had been writing it for two years, working every single detail of it. It was a big deal. Maybe she didn’t see you as family, you thought. That was when all the problems became to appear. All your insecurities, all your internal conflicts. You spent the whole book launch overthinking every part of your relationship. 

When you got home, you knew Bella would be there. They had your key and asked if they could go to your place after the interview. You said yes, of course. Didn’t matter if you were slightly hurt, you just wanted to be with them. 

“Hey! How was it?”, Bella smiled when they saw you walk inside the apartment. 

“It was good”, you smiled back and gave them a big hug. “I missed you so much.” 

Bella laughed at how muffled your voice was because of the way your face was hidden on the curve of their neck. “I missed you too, darling.” 

You let them go and they gave you a quick kiss. “I’m hungry. And really, really, tired.” 

“I know. It’s why I ordered some pizza”, they pointed to the box on the center table in front of the couch. 

“Oh, you’re the best!”, you throwed your body on the comfortable couch and sighed. “Is it pepperoni?” 

“Yes...”, they sat next to you and grabbed one piece, giving it to you. 

“Thank God... I mean, I know you’re like, a hater of meat eaters, but...” 

“I’m not a hater!” 

“You are kind of a hater. It’s why I appreciate this”, you grabbed the slice of pizza. 

Bella grabbed one slice of the other pizza, the one without meat, and looked at you. You two smiled at each other and toasted the slices before eating it. 

The time went by and considering how hungry the two of you were, it didn’t take long for the pizza to disappear. Between one bite and another, you told Bella about the event. You told everything, like you wanted them to see it. You really wanted them to see it. And when Bella realized it, they felt terrible for not being there. 

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.” 

“You already said that”, you laughed and held their hand. 

You were with your head laid on their shoulder and you felt them kissing your hair. 

“No, I mean it.” 

You raised your head to look at Bella. “It’s fine, you were working.” 

“You’re not mad at me?” 

“No!”. 

You were a little mad, but it would pass. There was no reason to ruin that moment with a stupid argument. They were sorry, that’s all that mattered to you. 

“At least you read my book, it’s more than what my own mother did, so...”, you joked. 

But Bella didn’t laugh. In fact, they gulped. 

“You read it, right?” 

The response was the silence. All the walls you used to hide how disappointed you were collapsed right there. 

“You didn’t even read my book?”, you dropped their hand. 

“I was going to...” 

“I gave it to you, like, a month ago.” 

“I was going to read it, I swear! It’s just that there were so many things going on that I...” 

“Oh my God”, you stood up from the couch. “You really don’t care, do you?” 

“What?”, they stood up as well. “Of course I do!” 

“Yes, of course you do, but never as much as you care about your own work!” 

Both of you were angry now. Bella was feeling offended. It wasn’t like they were terrible all the time, Bella was always doing the best to make you happy. 

“Are you kidding me?” 

“No, Bella, it’s just the truth.” 

“Imagine if I told you that every time you say no when I invite you to an event, how would you feel?” 

“It’s different, Bella. You’re great at what you do.” 

“And so are you!” 

“It’s not the same thing!”, you yelled. “People love you. You’re successful.” 

“So what? You want me to not be good at my job?” 

“No, damnit! What I'm trying to tell you is that we’re different. You’re on, like, a thousand tv shows”, you pointed at her and then at yourself. “My biggest achievement was a book written three years ago and after that, all I do is sit and watch while the world around me continues to move.” 

Bella stood silent, waiting for you to finish with tears in their eyes. 

“The one thing that kept me going was this stupid plot I had in my mind during a shower, a stupid plot that I worked so fucking hard for two years. You were there, you saw it! I fucking cried myself to sleep wondering if I would ever do anything good again”, you dried your tears with the sleeve of your sweater. “And I finally did it! I did it, and it’s so good, and I wanted you to be there so you could see how good I am. I wanted to give you a reason to be proud of me!” 

When you were done talking, Bella didn’t say anything. They didn’t even look at you. 

“I think I should go”, they said. 

“You’re going to leave? Really?” 

“I just...”, they sighed. “I need to be alone now.” 

Bella gave you no time to say anything. They grabbed their bag that was on the corner table next to the door and left. 

“Yeah, that is really fucking mature, Bella!”, you yelled before the door was closed and they were gone. 

The morning after that night was awful. You and Bella never had a fight like that. You tried to call them 2 times since you woke up, but it was useless. At first, you thought they were asleep, that’s why they haven’t answer. But the day went by, the night came again, and they still gave you no answer. Talking to their mom, you found out where Bella was. 

“Locked in their room”, she said through the phone. 

“Okay, can I talk to them?”, you asked nervously. 

“Did you guys have a fight?” 

“Ah...”, you were not sure you wanted to talk about this. 

“Alright, you don’t have to tell me”, she calmed you down. “Bella asked me to say that they’re busy, if anyone called.” 

Shit, they were going to break up with you. 

“I though Pedro and Bella were supposed to be on a tv show today.” 

“Bella rescheduled.” 

Okay, so whatever Bella was doing, it was more important than you, apparently. 

“Oh...” 

Bella’s mom sighed. She knew the two of you enough to tell that something was off. 

“Honey don’t worry”, she said. “I’m sure you guys will figure this out.” 

It didn’t feel like it. 

“Okay”, you agreed. “Thank you, I'll try to call them again later.” 

“Bella loves you very much, you’ll be fine.” 

You thanked her again before hanging up. Not a second after that, you got a message from Pedro, answering one of your texts asking about Bella. 

“They didn’t say anything to me. Just that something came up and that it was urgent, so we had to reschedule the interview.” 

You couldn’t stop a tear from rolling down your cheek as you typed. 

“I think they’re gonna break up with me” 

Pedro was fast to answer that one. 

“Bella is crazy for you. Shut up.” 

You let out a sad laugh. Pedro was so sure of it that you were a bit jealous of that confidence. Bella never did that before. Honestly, it felt like it was already done. You could imagine them coming to your apartment to pick up their stuff and you could see yourself begging for them to stay. Were you being dramatic? Maybe, but it felt real. 

You laid on your couch, curled up in a ball of blankets that smelled like Bella. It was funny how much you missed them, considering that you saw each other last night. But this was different, this time they didn’t say the ‘I love you’ that they always said before leaving. No, they said ‘I need to be alone’. 

That was it? Three years of relationship thrown away because of a book. 

The sound of the doorbell brough you back to earth in a flinch. You stood from the couch and stared at the door. What if it was them? You didn’t want to hear it right now. You couldn’t handle it. Not now. 

“I know you’re in there, the lights are on.” 

Shit. It was Bella. Trying to be silent, you reached for the light switch and turned it off. 

“Did you just turn the lights off?” 

“No...”, you answered, soon closing your eyes and hating yourself for being so fucking stupid. 

With no other options, you walked to the door and opened it. 

“Why did you kill him?”, Bella asked. 

They had dark circles around their eyes and on their hands, was the book you gave them. Your book. 

“What?”, you were still trying to process it. 

Bella entered the apartment without even asking. “Why did you kill him? Do you know how sick and twisted this is?!” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“Your book!”, they pointed at it. 

You closed the door and continued to stare at them without having any idea of what was going on. “You read it?” 

“I read the first two pages last night and just couldn’t stop”, they said, gesticulating every word in excitement. “Why did you kill him? Do you know how much I cried?” 

And then you realized. She was talking about the main character on your book. 

“Well, I...” 

“I mean, do you have a problem with happy endings? This is the best book I've ever read, and you had to kill my favorite character?” 

You didn’t know what to say. “How did you finish it so fast?” 

“I was up all night.” 

Oh, so that’s why... 

“And you didn’t even think of, I don’t know, check your fucking phone?”, you yelled. “I thought you were going to break up with me!” 

Bella finally stopped talking and looked at you with confusion in their eyes. 

“Why would I break up with you? I love you.” 

You breathed in relief and closed your eyes. “You dumbass”, you whispered before wrapping your arms around their waist on a tight hug. 

Bella was still confused, but they hugged you back and ran their fingers through your hair. “I’m so sorry I made you think that.” 

You raised your head to look at them. With all the tenderness in the world, Bella touched your cheeks and kissed you on the lips. All the worries, all the sadness, it was all gone. When they pulled away, their arms were still around your neck and your faces were still close. 

“So that's what you were doing?”, you asked with the smile on your lips that Bella loved so much. They nodded. “And you cried?”, Bella nodded again. “Good.” 

Bella laughed and gave you another kiss. “I should’ve been there. And I should’ve read it the same day you gave it to me...” 

“It’s fine.” 

“Shut up, let me finish”, they interrupted, and you let out a laugh. “I am so proud of you. You’re so good at everything you do and this book...”, Bella sighed. “This book is just heartbreaking, perfect, sad, beautiful, thrilling...” 

“Yes, I got it”, you giggled, already blushing from so many compliments. 

“Exciting, original, sensational, fantastic...” 

“Okay!”, you covered their mouth with your hand. “You loved it, I get it.” 

Bella tried to say something, so you removed your hand. 

“Are we good?”, they asked. 

You answered it with another kiss. 

“Okay, I think we’re good”, Bella smiled. 

“Yes. Yes, we are.” 

[itsjaywalkers]

ejehehe do ya have boxer james au head canon sorry im new here and just curious

I DO i just . don't know if i can anything new AND spoiler free considering this whole thing started here on tumblr

but !! i don't mind indulging u nonnie, i love talking about that au, and since you're new hopefully this won't seem too repetitive for u <3

reg has always been into journalism but the reason why he decided to focus on boxing is because of sirius!! it was a way to combine his passion AND his appreciation for his brother so it seemed like the perfect idea

as u can see the black brothers have a great relationship in this one and they left home together (but reg still talks to their parents on occassion)

james' trainer used to be his dad since monty was a very famous and admired boxer until he retired but . some shit happened and now james doesn't even speak to his father

sirius and james do not get along in this fic . they're rivals and james is threatening to take sirius' spot at the top so . they're openly hostile with each other and fans always take sides

regulus secretly enjoys being forced to interview james bc he finds him intriguing (and really fucking attractive but that's neither here nor there)

lily and james are sort of friends here bc they used to hook up (they still kinda do when the story starts) and reg gets soooo jealous whenever he sees them together

despite them getting along . there WILL be black brothers angst . considering reg is fucking the enemy

james and reg are always indirecting each other on twitter

james is a Prick in this one, he's my most arrogant james so far and he has . terrible anger issues .

this is one of the main reasons why his relationship with reg is so messy during most of the story (james does grow and change quite a bit throughout it tho)

barty loses a lot of his fights on purpose and lets himself be hurt because he has a very concerning obsession with the nurse (yes evan is the nurse)

barty and james' beef is even more legendary than sirius and james' beef simply bc their rivalry is absolutely unhinged and they lose all sense of decorum or sportsmanshin when they're in each other's vicinity

this fic is gonna be very explicit like . oby level explicit . it'll take a bit to start but once it does.. Yeah

peter and sirius are besties in this one and believe me the irony isn't lost on me

james and reg are caught fucking a few times . and it never stops them from continuing fucking . in fact, james gets even more enthusiastic

reg is trans in this one <3

genuinely considering writing a rosekiller side story in this one bc . i'm kinda obsessed with them here

reg's only friend (apart from barty once he meets him and his brother) is pandora, who's one of his coworkers and the one who has to hear all the graphic details about his hookups with james

she's a lot more interested in the pretty ginger referee she sees whenever she accompanies reg to the matches tho..

i'm planning to be . kinda realistic when it comes to portraying the repercussions of getting involved with a famous athlete (especially considering reg's job) and the whole relationship going public

james' most important ritual/good luck charm involves reg getting on his knees <3 after they start hooking up he refuses to get on the ring without reg sucking him off first

remus is very against james getting involved with reg (even tho he knows that mf is gonna end up doing whatever the hell he wants)

james and remus have been friends since they were kids so despite all the bickering and arguing they're very close

james doesn't wear glasses often because of all the fighting (but reg likes him better with them)

and idk what else to say i feel like i've talked so much about this au that there's nothing u guys don't know already lmao

[duchessofostergotlands]

Just read your last post on autism and well you sound like me. I don't even have a diagnosis because it could stop me from becoming a public servant which I want to be (governmental prejuidice is amazing, isn't it?). However, I also have ADHD as a possible side "quest" on my laundry list. Everything I learned about it in women in recent years screams my experience. However, no one thought to test me because I did academically well like you in school and didn't have issues conforming to classroom rules. Back then you had to be a boy, running around constantly and failing classes to even get a consideration for ADHD here. No one saw that school was my own personal dopamine farm and that I constantly quietly fidgeted with something.

Idk where I'm going with this here but yeah I just felt seen by your post. I think I want a diagnosis eventually after I got my public servant position but I'm also scared of looking for one. Because what if it isn't depression, autism, ADHD and/or even BPD? What if I'm just a lazy slob that peaked in school and someone who is just easily distracted and not great at social interactions I haven't played through in my head a thousand times before?

Hello :) The internet can be a terrible thing but the best part of it is there will be someone, somewhere, who has experienced what you are experiencing. So yes, totally relate to what you're saying. I have similar thoughts all the time. "Maybe I'm just lazy, maybe I'm just sensitive, maybe I'm just a bitch" lol. To be honest I think genuinely lazy people probably don't ever think about the fact they're lazy or get upset about it so it's probably an indication you're not. Like I often think "am I actually a good person?" but I don't think genuinely bad people ever consider that!

I did see something helpful a little while ago. The comedian Aisling Bea did an interview where she talked about her ADHD and the shame she felt when she believed she was just lazy. She said that she loves acting and she can get given a script and learn three pages of dialogue over night - her dialogue and everyone else's - and people are astonished. But you give her a simple task like filling in a form and she just can't do it. I suspect you might find you're the same way. If someone gives you a task you enjoy or find value in then you can probably do it more quickly and to a higher standard than other people. You are capable of hard work. But if it's a task you don't enjoy or think is pointless you will feel like there's some kind of forcefield stopping you from doing it. I also think if it was just laziness, if it was a choice, then no one would ever choose to be lazy about things which are detrimental to them. The call it took me 3 months to make was to register with a doctor. It was really important, it was harmful to me to not have a doctor, and yet I couldn't do it. If I could have gone online and done the whole process there I would have. But I couldn't do it because I had to make a phone call which I struggle with. So if you 1) find that you are capable of putting in hard work in certain things and 2) find that the kinds of tasks you struggle with are important tasks and not doing them is potentially detrimental to you, it isn't just laziness. I think it comes out in a lot of women when we leave school because we don't have structure, routine, someone caring for us. The fact so many neurodivergent women were high achievers in school and burnt out later in life is not a coincidence!

But also, something I don't see talked about that much is how sometimes we are lazy but that laziness is a totally natural response to how exhausting it is to be neurodivergent. Having to be constantly aware of how you talk, how you sit, how you write all day to fit in with a world that you don't fully understand but you know if you get it wrong you could lose your job, your home, everything. The stress, the anxiety, the energy involved in that. After years and years of dealing with this, you are going to crash. So when we do have a rare good day where we feel energised, sometimes we choose to do the fun thing instead of the task we have to do. Other people can be productive because they know that they will probably have the chance to be lazy later in the day or the next day or the next week. Whereas I don't know when I'll next have that opportunity. So sometimes we are being "lazy" but it's to try and repair the years and years of exhaustion and anxiety and stress that has built up! Other people are allowed to be occasionally lazy but we punish ourselves for it so much.

[morocosmos]

Writer Interview Game

Tagged by @arcaneoddity, tyyyy 💜

When did you start writing?

I noodled at an unfinished story or two when i was a kid (i drew comics a lot more tbh), the first fanfic i wrote was when i was 13 (it is consigned to ff.net, never to be perceived again). i started developing my writing during secondary school, we had to for english class but i genuinely enjoyed those assignments so much that it didn't feel like schoolwork lmao, it was smth of an outlet. i did write a couple of fics for other fandoms between 2016 and mid 2020, but in late 2020 FFXIV revived my desire to create, while @stellarfatalism and @lemoncakedesign's fics inspired me to actually start writing.

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

I read a much wider variety of smut than what i could be convinced to write. other than that i think they mostly overlap.

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

@haillenarte, @rabbitprint and @sezja's fics have stuck with me the most in terms of "god i want to be able to write characters like this"....i've never been compared to another writer before, never even considered it and idk how i'd feel.

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

I was writing on openoffice at first, but their software has a tendency to crash when you press two keys too fast, for example when you. try to save your work. moved to gdocs to avoid that and so that i could continue working on fic on my phone, but i also use the notes app on there, mainly to get down ideas that i don't want running away or to write more freely. it's easier to be experimental and loose when i'm writing in notes, idk, whereas i prefer sitting at the desk and working on my computer when it's a longer fic or a more """important""" piece.

What’s your most effective way to muster up a muse?

I've let it happen when it happens, for the most part. i was forcing myself to power through job around the time i really grew into writing, so i needed it to be a space where i wouldn't do it if i didn't want to. my feelings about that are more mixed now, because i'm a slow writer to begin with, and i can't help but wonder if more people would read my stuff if i updated more consistently. but i digress - the only time i've had to bring the muse in myself was for to sail your seas, and that was because there was accountability and a deadline. so i guess my most effective tricks are ADHD hacks and brainworms.

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

Until recently i didn't approach fic writing with themes in mind, when i get an idea it's usually about throwing a character at something and seeing what happens. that something tends to be another character, sometimes it's more existential like touch starvation. that said, i do have a WIP where i sat down and thought about what i want the themes to be before i know how it's going to pan out, but it's baby's first attempt so i don't have an answer to this question yet, really.

What is your reason for writing?

Processing things i know and exploring things i don't. when i got back into writing in 2020 it was extremely cathartic, i've burnt out on several creative pursuits over the years and having that spark come alive was, and is still very precious to me. i spent two years writing simply because i had ideas and a vice-grip compulsion to write them out. now that that's slowed down, i've started to think more about craft, and how i might try to hone that when i'm lowkey afraid of this stage of learning, and there's no formal institution to kick my ass into it. but in some ways, i think i write because i can't afford not to.

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

I've been told by a friend that i'm good at continuity, which is nice considering it lines up with the obsessive approach i take towards trying to tie plot/character threads together lol. personally, i still consider descriptive writing to be my greatest strength. it's what i keep going back to, maybe because it was the first thing i discovered i was good at that wasn't influenced by someone else's decision.

How do you feel about your own writing?

I miss the honeymoon period when i thought my writing was the hottest shit LOL. that tapered off towards the end of 2022, but it's not like i think my writing is bad now, just that over time i became more aware of my shortcomings, and how much knowledge and experience i lack. i did have to fight a little to keep my relationship with writing from souring last year, but in hindsight it was more about frustration that i didn't have the energy to write (work burnout wooo) than a problem with writing itself. after a year plus of stalling and big fic projects i just want to have fun again, be a bit silly.

[anuchasart]

WRIOLOTTE APPRECIATION POST idk I just love my sillies

first of all-- this post is not serious at all lol I mean I love this ship but this is just something I'm doing for fun. I'm not interested in any ship war or deep lore discussions, so please keep everything friendly on the comments <3 thank you!!

so,, basically I found this comment in my last wriolotte art

and I was like yeah it's definetly a rareship ngl but!!!! it actually makes a lot of sense and they have a -potential- great chemistry

let me elaborate (I love to talk about these two sorry)

okay let's start with the canon things!! ♥ as I said earlier I consider wriolotte a rareship so naturally we don't have a lot of in-game interactions between them (I'm still crying). we can find anyway some hints of Charlotte's genuine interest about Wriothesley on her voice-over + this Paimon's dialogue.

(she sounds so sad when the traveler can't tell her nothing personal about the Duke... I bet she talked about him with the traveler and Paimon more than once heheh--)

after Fontaine's archon quest, they finally meet in person!! tbh I love these adorable small dialogues........ Charlotte radiates joy and Wriothesley is so calm and gentle (ꈍᴗꈍ) ♡

he doesn't even sound upset when she insists a little. girl just wanted to be sure she will see Wriothesley again.

when she's done with her job, she says "till next time, everyone!"

aaaand this was the last time they were seen together. my personal headcanon is that Charlotte keeps visiting the Fortress of Meropide until she gets that interview with the Duke himself! I mean she already told him she's coming back for more stories, ehe.

more random canon facts that I find cute and make me happy:

cryo catalyst x cryo catalyst

pneuma x ousia

black x pink ship!!!!!!

they actually make great teams together

they share 3 ascension materials

cute aesthetic

dps + healer

in the Imaginarium Theater lounge area, both Wriothesley and Charlotte state they like books for children. Wriothesley says he likes how they are written and how good they are to unwind and chill while reading a book. Charlotte likes to investigate (obvs) about the books and their writers.

now I want to share a few more headcanons bcs I've spent a lot of time thinking about them,,,, and I need to left it written somewhere

I really REALLY think Charlotte,,, kinda,, had a crush on Wriothesley long before meeting him irl Idk is just the way she talks about him in her voice-over ;; she's so cute

Wriothesley honestly enjoys spending time with Charlotte, he always invites her to a cup of tea during her visits to the fortress. that's how he gets to know she's not like other journalists, he even starts to admire her job

Sigewinne ships them. so. hard.

same with the traveler and Paimon hahah,,

they are literally police agent x journalist the dynamic writes itself

I know Charlotte is 100% professional but what if she uses that interview to figure out if Wrio is single or,,,,,, (ofc he's single)

she treats his wounds when Sigewinne is not around

sometimes he calls her Charlie

Wrio knows Charlotte can take care of herself but he's very protective of her anyway and she loves that

[piromantic]

i promise im only up this late because my throat still hurts and im drinking another cup of tea

is the universe trying to tell me something 😭 last night & the past couple weeks in general ive been getting really frustrated over some stuff and tonight i clicked on a random video about autistic masking and basically everything i'd been breaking down over was mentioned to some degree in there

i've been trying out the 'actually, i don't need labels, because i can just deal with the issues i have individually' mindset for a few years now and im not gonna lie. it is not working out very well in the longer term because as soon as i ran out of small issues and got to the ones that are harder/impossible to address i just started falling back into the mindset of 'i'm actually failing basic social situations because i'm evil and stupid' which is... not productive or healthy lmao

ESPECIALLY this one woman who said she acts silly to trick people into thinking that her weird self was an act and her masking self was real like ohhh my god. that's what i've been doing my whole fucking life isn't it. like i've been aware of it for a long time but i could never figure out how to stop doing it because it always felt so necessary

the thing is i think, despite my efforts to get rid of this mindset by focusing less on labels, the possibility of autism still feels like some... idk. miracle answer or something. i don't want to self diagnose if there's a possibility that i'm just doing it to give myself an excuse without considering it objectively, if that makes sense.

but then i think about how all my irl ND friends see me as someone very close to being NT. but THEN i remember all the little rules i have even with interacting with them. like not even for any reason. i have a friend that said one time that they don't like when people leave out apostrophes because it's sloppy so i never forget apostrophes. we'd already known each other for like seven years i just. reflexively do shit like that??? and no one has any idea because that's the whole point

bonus tangential rant: i've been reflecting on how badly i struggle with perceiving my ability levels compared to people around me and tend to assume everyone else is better than me and easily lose confidence because of that. (which is really bad because i'm preparing for job interviews right now!!!) is it weird that my parents said they weren't vocally supportive of me as a kid because they 'didn't want my ego to get too big'. like that's weird right. like that sucks and isn't normal right (no need to actually answer)

[gayathreya]

kanguva fixit fic time

okay i've seen it multiple times now and while i don't hate it, i think it's mediocre-below average and it is filling me up with sooo much frustration cos.. it doesn't have to be. there are relatively easy fixes for the script when this much effort has already gone into the production design and setting! i don't mind waiting 2+ years for a suriya film, but i just hate it when i do that and it's bogged down to be another loud action entertainer, a genre i thoroughly despise more and more these days as i age. i say i don't hate it, but tbh... the more i think about this film, the more i'm starting to dislike it.........

SO... I'M JUST GONNA WRITE SOME BULLETPOINT PARAGRAPHS ON FIXING IT THE WAY I AS A FAN WOULD DO i think it will help process some more of my frustration with it after my lbxd reviews. the 3 biggest problems i have with the film are direction+editing (i consider these together, and by extension, the lack of patience and fleshing out given to the worldbuilding which deserves it), the sound and screaming dialogue (also, really, part of a director's failing) and the abhorrent cameo, so my points will seek to address that most.

we open with the present, yes? actually, i think the fact there's this timeline is fine, unlike quite a few saying it wasn't needed. i disagree because if your main plot is about reincarnation, you MUST have different timelines, because the whole mythos and trope of reincarnation is the unfulfillment in a past life coming back to haunt you in the next. there is something that needs to happen, and the related souls cannot rest until a wish is met. if you don't want the present portion, the core plot itself has to change, which meh, i don't want to put in this much effort into thinking about this film cos it irritates me.

i don't want or need to change the entire story cos idc about this film to put in that energy, but one of the first marketing failures is that they seemed almost embarrassed to admit it was a reincarnation story, which i don't get at all. reincarnation themes are one of the biggest and most easily acceptable ideas in indian mythos and storytelling.. why would u be embarrassed about it? there were actual interviews where the background crew involved kept saying it was an ''interesting'' connection and straight up lied that it wasn't reincarnation, which is the main reason why so many fans were coming up with different thoughts on what the key plot was; namely, an immortality curse/boon affecting hero and villain directly and how the elements of faith and the kid tied into that. none of this is true, ofc, and that's fine, i won't slam the film for not giving me what i myself thought. but if they had said this from the start, which isn't even a spoiler cos it opens with that instantly, people would have had a clearer mind going into it. false marketing is worse than no marketing, and i'm still seething about all the bullcrap they uttered about it

my issue with the present timeline really is just the sheer dogshit idea of their jobs and conflict. we didn't need francis as a bounty hunter, he could've just been some guy working a normal job with his ex-girlfriend and he stumbles across the kid, who also didn't need any of that science fiction biomedical shit ripoff to happen. he literally could've just been A RANDOM CHILD who is abused or used in some bad fashion, whom francis accidentally meets and wants to save, cos their bond doesn't let them go. idk, i think these are simple things that could make any movie better, cos it wipes away the unnecessary shit and over the top bs with tech, we don't need that. i have no idea why directors do not want to keep their films simple to focus on the core emotion, instead wasting so much time and money to have hired guns and soldiers in loud explosive action scenes. action sequences and soldiers btw, which were reeeally bad cos the english dialogue writing was horrible

just think about how this portion in the intro and climax could've been soo much better if it was stripped down. none of the aeroplane nonsense and high tech trucks and guns and random white thugs like what is the fucking reason!!! only shitty directors who can't write hide behind needless extravagance. and siva is definitely a shitty director who can't write. i would much rather the kid be a child who is under a kidnapping ring, no matter how cliche it sounds, cos it's still miles better than uhhh *checks notes* giving him mutant superpowers after his brain has been operated on. wowz so cool da. is this 1990.

like this just makes me so angry thinking about it, this artificial inclusion of a sci fi trope, when the film already looks so ugly in that horrible ai intro which looks so ghastly and obviously fake. for that alone, i'm almost at the zone of saying i'm happy this flopped. on top of obviously using ai to ''enhance'' suriya's voice in other languages as they said... like bro.... FLOP DESERVED. if an actor can't even be fuckin arsed to learn the dialogue and DUB IN A FUCKING STUDIO FOR HIS OWN MOVIE??? then piss off. if i were a fan of his from telugu lands or something i'd feel honestly deeply cheated and hurt. what's to stop anyone from saying he doesn't even need to dub in tamil anymore? we have his fake voice coming from a computer that they clearly believe is acceptable to throw into other languages, thinking that emotion and inflections are worthy of their audience. do the same in tamil then. how about it. such lazy, horribly unethical filmmaking deserves to be thrown to the dogs. fuck gen ai use in art and fuck studio green and fuck everyone who agreed to that shit

the period portion... where do i start, man. what a mess. why wasn't there any breathing points.... why didn't we have any lull in the screenplay. that's the first thing i would change, and anyone disagreeing cos they want to make it ''racy'' or ''crisp'' needs to be kicked to the curb. you are not a child. have some patience. horrible filmmaking style that does nothing but induce a headache. i just mentioned this elsewhere but even slow paced 3 hour films would get fans, because there'll be something in there to warrant a revisit. but fast paced vomit spat out onto a script won't, cos there's no rewatch value at all. i have very minimal interest in sitting down to rewatch this cos the scenes are all just blurring together and i can't even catch a breath to analyse anything. imagine if we just had suriya in pain, suffering, a film exploring his psyche about his guilt, betrayal, both physical and emotional hurt, perhaps a disability from the stab wound... just nothing. fucking give me 10 mins of suriya crying or having his wounds tended to, it'd be better than this trainwreck garbage of scenes whizzing by that i can't even separate. i really... HATE!! editing like this. i haven't seen worst editing in a suriya film except in singam 3. this is almost on par imo

there were so many things mentioned in interviews by suriya/the team that never happened on screen. suriya for example, talked so much about the aspect of faith and their deities, how the different clans operate with different economics, worship, even their disposition in relation to their worshipped elements.... sorry, these are either flat out lies or more likely, things told to him in passing that siva never bothered to fuckin put in script. they never had any prior script reading, btw. suriya legit said siva writes his dialogue early morning at 4-5am, and at 7am or so he's given the papers and thrown into set to act. well of course this film is gonna be shit, brother. what else did anyone expect!!! no practice, no script reading, no chemistry between actors to act out and perform, no voice modulation and testing that's why every other scene it's him shouting alternately and pissing all of us cos we can't even watch a movie in peace.... saying ''they're tribals'' as an excuse for the constant shouting is also such a poor understanding and dehumanisation of our ancestors, who also had calm, peace, quiet love and contemplation, in their longings or beliefs. this actually isn't a movie. it's a reels fest for instagram and tiktok wanker teens. it's clear siva didn't think of his whole as a film, but merely events and moments to stitch together, cos there's no way in hell any competent director would create a film like this otherwise. can't stand films crafted solely for events and spectacle, cos where is the character drama and arcs of highs and lows? even an amateur writer would know this.

speaking of breathers... what i really want in films is vulnerability and fragility of the hero to be depicted. i legit couldn't believe my eyes after what happens in the interval, cos i was so sure once that betrayal happens, we'd be spending the next 10-15 mins of suriya hurt, in both physical and emotional pain at his failure in taking care of the boy and convincing him of his good will. i thought we'd see kanga struggling to walk or fight, one of his arms useless to him now, but... notHING EVER COMES FROM THIS!!! we just continuously get pulled into narrative plot point after narrative plot point. there is no time at all to be spent on exploring kanga's psyche.. a better writer-director would certainly think about this. siva didn't. even the present timeline when francis dislocates his own thumb, i thought it would come up - the idea of casting self-injury on himself this time to save a boy who stabbed him in the past, it's almost poetic. but... nothing. just fucking nothing. where is the literary value and tension and poetry that all this potential has???

this obviously extends to all the other moments the movie could have slowed down and added more dialogue or atmospheric tension - the burning at the stake, the rock of justice, any of the worship and politics and economic push and pull these clans have with each other... instead, we get literally nothing apart from ''evil blood clan'' who hates ''good fire clan'' BRO WHAT ARE THEY EVEN FIGHTING FOR!!! what is their conflict? there's no point of moral or philosophical discussion point at all between these clans in the film. this also ties in to the first crime - koduva killing 100 (-99, really) men, and the fallout from that. why not just make him kill 1? then wouldn't there have been an actual avenue to discuss capital punishment and revenge, and eye for an eye vengeance or rehabilitation? where's the conflict point in executing a piece of shit who murdered ONE HUNDRED PEOPLE?! this could've so easily been turned into commentary on how one views justice and crime against the backdrop of tribes. the audience is given nothing for us to think about their sides and who to root for, what mistakes or crimes they may have committed against each other, or any kind of conflict in their faiths or ideology that one goes against. just typical one-dimensional bad guy who hates the typical one-dimensional good guy. you spent almost 3 years making this.. this is what you came up with?? fucking juvenile. even a beginner writer would be embarrassed to put this out. obviously, this happens when your whole team is just thinking about how to make hero mass entry and cOO0llLL YOuTh gEN Z moments, rather than expanding upon the world and potential themes to flesh out. there is no point saying in every interview siva has great knowledge in tamil literature. so fuckin what. none of that shit matters cos his writing isn't literary at all. this looks like a grade school paper a child puts out for what makes a ''cool'' hero and nothing more cos they do not have the capacity for literary analysis.

the cameo.... watha i'm pissed as f. i cannot tell u how angry i was watching that shit first day. sooo stupid and unnecessary, completely spoiled the expectations of waiting for rolex/dhilli clash on screen just cos siva had a stupid idea to make this into 2 parts which didn't need to be. FUCKKK YOUU, MAN!!!!!!!!!!! this should've just been a single, longer movie, and with kanga failing both his promises (protecting the boy like he promised his mother, and letting himself be killed by him), should've just killed himself in the climax. it would've been a great ending for him actually as it intercuts with the present (i did like the intercut of both timelines in the climax actually, i think this is the only portion where the editing is done decent), where in one time we see him throw himself to the sharks to be ripped apart after his failure, and in another time he manages to save the boy from whatever it is, and maybe even inadvertently dies in the process because of the kid due to a past sin of his own in the role of the present kid's harsh life, but dying happily so, creating a bittersweet tragedy of broken promises mending itself in another lifetime. this could've easily been made up to be a tragic literary piece on reincarnation and promise, and it would've worked. idk. i'm just spitballing. it's not that i've had a long time to think about this, these are very basic things i already thought of almost immediately after my first show, and i'm just stumped no one else in that whole shit team bothered to take a step back and think to make this more compact into 1 solo film. if everything just has to be about milking money from the audience and dsp blaring shitty loud music every second, then fuck you.

i think this got longer than i intended. there're still so many other problems apart from direction and editing, pacing, but these above things are the biggest ones for me. cos even with the extremely painful and poor quality bgm by dsp, i also believe it could've been naturally avoided if given a slower film, and he wouldn't have made this so loud for no reason. it'd be very natural for a md to provide quieter moments if the scenes themselves are softer with more intimacy and atmosphere, not stitched together from all high moments, which ofc would only make his job louder.

so many dumb fight scenes... the opening francis fight and editing style with coloured words and childish intercuts (sorry idgaf i am a thallumaala hater because i am not 12 years old thinking this is cool).. the croc fight.... which served literally ZERO PURPOSE. no really. they even dared release a video on that making, to show how much HarDWOrK they put in for it, making a river and animal from scratch, painting and animating it, and it's like ??? tf for???? the only bit that served was to make the boy injured, and to make kanga take care of him leading into the mannippu song. this could've been achieved in soo many other ways... poruva could've been bitten by a dangerous insect. he could've eaten the wrong fruit. he could've slipped and fell down a bad ravine or cliff that looked inviting but is actually deadly. LITERALLY ANYTHING else would've saved them so much time and money, and yet still prove and highlight the same idea to the audience that the forest they've been exiled to is dangerous and not easy to survive in. nothing though.... just nothing.

i can't believe i'm still talking about this given how frustrated it makes me and how lazy i feel these scenes are written in for what they think is mass appeal. spectacle, scale, budget, visuals.. NONE of this substitutes good, calm pacing and editing and story. man, i'm tired. ok whatever i'm done

[loser-female]

Since I need to distract myself a bit let me talk about

~✨Risk Management ✨~

So, y'all have read the interview of the CEO or something like that of the company that owned the submarine, yeah? He said something like "at a certain point security is useless".

I work in security (ok, cybersecurity but) so I'd like to get on the occasion to explain to everyone what risk is and how it works.

PSA: I'm not defending the guy, i don't care. This is just me taking the ball to explain something. Idk what he meant, I didn't read the whole interview and this is not about the submarine incident.

So, let me define risk first as:

Likehood * Impact

Likehood is the probability that something could happen.

Impact is the damage you get if that thing happens.

Risk is generally classified according to tables similar to this one.

If you're doing a good job you are probably going to create one of this personalised for each "thing" you need to assess.

The thing is: when we assess a risk we need to consider a few things:

What's the worst case scenario?

Do we have a "back-up" plan if things go wrong (-> limits the impact)

What are the most important asset for this thing we want to assess? (Helps identify the impact)

What is the probability that a villain could access the assets? What kind of tools would they need?(likehood)

Is there something we can do about this?

And other things. I'm trying to keep it very generic.

Then we proceed. After we evaluated the risk(s) we could face, we have four choices:

Avoid the risk -> obvious right? We take the steps to eliminate the risk completely;

Mitigate the risk -> reducing the likehood or the impact by taking several measures

Transfer the risk -> you hire someone that takes the risk for you (insurance, anyone?)

Accept the risk.

I know this sounds counterintuitive, but think about it for a second.

You own a car. You did all the controls you could do and consider yourself a moderate and careful driver(mitigation), have a insurance (transference), leave the phone in the backseat (avoidance... kinda)but there is still a residual risk of having an incident, despite all the countermeasures you took.

You can decide to not drive at all, that would land the risk to 0, but you need to go to work, right?

Is reasonable at this point for you to... Not drive entirely? Some of you might say no, for various reasons: it's irrational, need to go to work, you can't use a bike because it's too far...

Companies do the same when evaluating risks. They might decide that, to them, action X doesn't represent a threat (small impact or extremely low likehood).

Consider also that in cybersecurity every layer of defense you create it's literally making someone's job more difficult. Sometimes it's worth it (consider the case of assets that handle personal data or credit card information), sometimes after you did all the assesment you find out that the level of sophistication an attack would require is such improbable, expensive, impractical that you don't take any measure to fix it.

(I recommend the Darknet Diaries "Jeremy from Marketing" episode - it's a really interesting example of what I'm talking about specifically)

Most of the time risks are being mitigated - avoiding a risk entirely is often impossible or would require too much resources. I have a post on "accessibility for the users and security" to write for my cybersecurity portfolio since last year but ok I guess.

Thanks for coming to my ted talk about something no one cares about but I found incredibly interesting.

[keep-on-trying]

Finished OtonaPre finale (like 45mins ago lol) and well. I'd say the ending was good! Not the best and yes I do have issues but like, the characters I watched this series for got what their happy ending.

Of course, I honestly didn't expect Nozomi to actual fall into the week-long coma. But one thing that makes me curious is that... I'm not sure it was the flower causing it. More like, it was showcasing Nozomi's dangers? After all, she ended up being the only one with symptoms. Natts' comment on the flower also left me thinking that it's not a flower of death, but a messenger. Thou I understand my interprentation has issues in that, what then caused Nozomi's fallout lol. I don't know, maybe I see it wrong. The fact that the wilted flower actually started growing another one from its seeds does seem to indicate that the flowers will continue on spreading. Maybe all adult precures will be tied to it.

NozoCoco I'm not gonna comment on too much because yadayada we all know the issues in it but I must say I found it funny when Coco asked to marry Nozomi, both me and sis shouted "SHE JUST WOKE UP!!!" pffffftt Coco, that was not the best time for that lol. Even if she (obviously despite issues) said yes. Like otherwise it was cute, despite obvious issues ofc.

(Thou admittedly that has made me think that the only issue in there could be the teacher student dynamic because I don't actually remember Coco and Natts' ages being specifically mentioned. I see comments here and there saying the two have said they lied about their ages to get their jobs in human world (meaning they're teenagers like the girls in YesPre) but I don't know, I don't remember that. But I also know some producer said they were adult men in some interview regarding them so I got no idea what to think on it. Just know I don't like the ship, too many confusing possible, if not very real, issues lol).

But yeh. It's a fine first Otona Precure. Thou it does make me a tad bit nervous about MahoPre, ahahaha. Say, was OtonaPre script by the original writers? Was anyone from the first five precure seasons involved? If so, that'd make me hopeful at least part of MahoPre staff would return to the sequel too.

I do say the aroace in me wants to welcome Mai to aroace family because she just screams me but idk, everyone's welcome to think whatever, I just don't think anything was really denied. It's just one possible future after all. And considering I kinda saw Saki as bi before, then yeh, it fits for her.

[captain-hawks]

i'm sitting at the airport terminal in the middle of the night and something wild just happened to me and my first thought was "is this miya twin coded?" so i popped over here because 1. you're one of my absolute favorites. 2. i was just re-reading your kita piece for all the glorious emotional smut. and 3. you also <3 the miyas. please excuse me as i process this.

in senior year high school i went to a weekend-long statewide competition and met these twins in the elevator. one of them definitely had more swagger, more teasing confidence (the kind that guys who are usually successful with ladies have) and the other one was a little quieter, seemed a bit more sincere even though he talked less. we hit it off in conversation and they asked me and my friend if we wanted to grab food with them. i wasn't entirely sure but i thought maybe they were flirting? i was pretty sheltered up until that point and didn't want to assume incorrectly. towards the end of the comp the quieter twin asked if he could come visit me in my city and i, confused, asked "why??" spoiler alert: i ended up dating him for ~2 years.

i found out early on in our relationship that after our "casual dinner" that night when they got back to their room, Swag twin wanted to try his luck and see if he could get with me, but Quiet twin said that he would FIGHT HIM because Quiet really liked me and genuinely wanted to ask me out and he said he wouldn't let his brother ruin that by trying to hook up. Swag was apparently used to usually getting his way, so he realized how serious Quiet was to threaten to beat his ass so i guess he backed off. I didn't find this out until after Quiet and i started seriously talking/dating.

I went out of state for college but we maintained the LDR until halfway through my sophomore year. classic breakup reasons: growing pains/long distance was taking its toll/i wanted to explore life. but we remained on good terms and consider each other friends! we rarely talk, but he still let me use his netflix login for the past 11 years. when he was moving into a corporate role a couple years ago i helped him with interview prep, and when i was looking for a new job he sent me reqs he thought were a good fit.

he's had at least a couple relationships in the near-decade since we broke up (we don't talk about dating but i had seen on social media at some point). i've dated and had a few situationships and am now in a 4 year relationship with my bf. however, he most definitely doesn't know this because we don't chat often, i'm rarely on socials these days and my bf is a very private person.

i'm so sorry for how long this has been. all of this context is to say...i am chilling in the airport on my way home and I GOT A CONFESSION FROM QUIET?? something about i'm the one that got away, he feels he'd won the lottery by meeting me and having me in his life, he referenced the fight he had with his brother all those years ago and said he'd fight the same fight TO THIS DAY. i am flummoxed. i think it is a sign from the great spaghetti monster in the sky that i need to log off tumblr because my very first thought was "what in the fanfiction trope is this?" does this shit actually happen irl? now i need to go deal with this.

anyways thank you for reading this if you got this far! idk if it's just because it's twins and their dynamic is vaguely similar to osamu and atsumu but i was like...have i been isekai'ed into a miya twin fanfic? the sleep deprivation may be catching up to me and i may be entirely unhinged idk

first of all, ily and i’m so flattered you thought of me and ran over here to share this story. i literally read this while brushing my teeth because i was running late for work this morning, but i was so invested i had to read the whole message before i left.

anyway, EXCUSE ME????? i actually can’t get over this. how does it feel to have lived in a real life miya twins fanfic? are you taking interviews at this time? HE SAID HE WOULD FIGHT!!!! HIM? THE ATSUMU/OSAMU DYNAMICS i cannot believe. somewhere an author is on their knees (it’s me, the author). AND NOW THE CONFESSION???? OVER A DECADE LATER? i almost choked on my toothpaste. (i feel like there’s also irony to be found in the inherently symbolic nature of getting that message in such a transitionary, liminal space like an airport in the middle of the night.)

nonnie, i hope you have safe travels home and can get some much-deserved rest after that absolute bombshell. if there ever happens to be a future update or footnote to this story………..you know where to find me.

[destinyc1020]

I'm not a fan anymore due to my own personal reasons, but I want to be objective. Timothee wants wrong to ask that worker not to stake pics. He's in character, and it was unprofessional for them to consider the eclipse over their job. Also, after seeing Tom filing TCR in new York and dealing with paps and fans asking for pics, I can understand why he was paranoid and off cause he's in character but also feels violated if that makes sense. I think Timothee may be a bit of the method and also struggles with some type of anxiety. He's very paranoid recently, so maybe being as famous as he has created that more. There was a time he was so open, and noe hes closed off. Whenever he's papped, he wears a mask, so maybe idk im speculating.

However, this isn't the first case. I've heard of this diva behaviour on set, unfortunately. There were rumours on DM a few yrs ago that alleged some crew workers in London about his antics whilst filming Wonka, and he was unpleasant to a female PA for messing up his umbrella request. There were several sources who cosinged this, but because he's big, it didn't go any further than those rumours.

He apologised the next day and gave them signed pics of the merch, lol. At the time, as a fan, I considered that he was dealing with the aftermath of his grandma passing cause it was during that time, so maybe this time he's dealing with the pressure of being Bob Dylan. I'm not defending him cause I'm not a fan, but actors in some cases do lose themselves in roles. I even remember during the press for Dune 1, Rebecca said timothee was more of a character actor than she is. When they said cut, he's still in that headspace, whereas she's making jokes.

Even Z said during a q&a for Dune 2 when she visited set, Timothee was standoffish cause he was in character. He apologised for that. I'm more shocked at the accusations of the director allegedly pushing a worker and not caring cause directors egos are never fun to work with moreso an actor imo.

Timothee is tricky to discuss because hes changed a lot, so who can defend him without their own personal bias? Before, he was very open with fans, and now it's only due to work that he works when he does with his fans unless it's for himself. He doesn't gonna podcasts anymore or has personal interviews. It's not bad, but it can be jarring as those fans became accustomed to his accessibility but now all they do is criticise his dating life with conspiracy CC, lol.

I'm really a fan anymore, so I didn't think this article was going to hurt him, but I find it interesting that his agent isn't disproving it...

We will see.

Oh wow 😳

Thanks Anon for providing this backstory on Timmy and your honest thoughts. I guess I had no idea he could be such a diva! 🥴

Even on the "Wonka" set? That's supposed to be a lighthearted KIDS movie! 😂🤣

Anyway, this is disappointing, because while I'm not a HUGE huge fan of Timmy's, I DO like him as an actor, and I did think that he was generally unproblematic and an overall nice guy. Now, I'm not so sure. 👀 Like I said, I've never seen him even looking like he's in a bad mood to anyone, not even fans lol 😆 So this is just kinda shocking to me.

But if there have been other reports in the past of his behavior, then that must mean there is a pattern.

I don't think there's ever an excuse to be mean and rude to people, so if this is the type of person that he is onset, then that's disappointing. 😔

I do agree that sometimes, people don't realize that a set is STILL a working environment, and sometimes it can be pretty serious! Some people just don't take it seriously and can be a nuisance, which can cause some actors to get annoyed. I know some actors can also get into character and have a hard time getting out of it.

Some also are trying to do a serious scene, and an interruption or disruption can break focus, and cause an actor to have to re-do a take, which is more time, energy, and money spent involved for everyone.

Weren't there some reports one year from an extra on the set of "Cherry" that said that Tom got a bit angry/frustrated with someone on set during the Emily overdose scene at the hospital because someone kept breaking his concentration or smthg? 🤔 I feel like I vaguely remember that from somewhere. Correct me if I'm wrong!

Either way, I guess my point is, I suppose it can happen to anyone? 🤷🏾‍♀️ We all can lose our cool sometimes.

I'll give an actor grace if it's a once or two time thing, but if it's a PATTERN with someone, then that is no Bueno for me. 😤

One of my biggest pet peeves are people who are just rude to others for no good reason at all. 👎🏾

[fuck-customers]

⚠️ SORRY; LONG POST ⚠️

How the fuck can I get my dumbbitch managers to STOP scheduling me for 3 hour (or less!!) shifts?

I have repeatedly asked multiple management members over and over and over again to NOT schedule me 3 hour shifts, schedule me only 4 hour minimum + ideally one 8 hour vs. two 4 hours (which never gets respected, of course) only to be ignored. I mean, I have talked to Every. Single. Manager. And lead. Anyone who might even TOUCH a schedule, I have repeatedly expressed my displeasure with 3 hour shifts. I have open availability and I never call out, it's not like I need limited hours due to school/another job/disability/etc. And I have two fucking 3 hour shifts this week!!

I'm sure I will get comments on this post that suggests that they're trying to get me to quit. I agree. I've wanted to quit this job pretty much as soon as I accepted it. However, I have many issues in my personal life that are preventing me from doing so, which I will not go into detail about. The good news is, it seems like I might be able to get things resolved in my personal life soon and will be able to relocate to the area that I wanted to and will ideally quit this job and get another one at that time. The problem is that I'm unsure how long it might take. I might be stuck here for a few more months, but I honestly do not know how many.

I don't want to tell my work about that, because I'd have to explain in detail my personal life and I do not wish to, and I would like to wait to tell them that I am quitting/thinking of quitting once it's more of a reality and I've actually gotten another job. At this point, I haven't even interviewed anywhere.

I spoke with the SM before she quit and after that talk, we appeared to be on the same page and she assured me that she would instruct the leads who were taking over scheduling duties to not schedule me 3 hour shifts. (I also would call out for nearly every 3 hour shift.. hint, hint, bitch, but I have since stopped due to concerns about being fired for being unavailable/uncooperative/abandoning my shifts/etc bullshit)

Well, that was a fucking lie. I got my new schedule this week and I have not one, but TWO 3 hour shifts!! I have been at this stupid fucking job for almost 4 years. (I am 2 months away from my 4 year anniversary, not that I get a bonus or review or any kind of recognition when my anniversary comes around, but that's another story) Even the current management hasn't been there that long. The longest one has been with the company 2 years at another location. (Oh btw that's another issue- all current management is not from this location, they've all transferred from other locations or are straight up new hires from other companies and I believe they are discriminating against employees who have been under previous management to force them to either quit or conform to THEIR way of managing. Which is wrong, by the way. I have read the store handbook...which has mysteriously disappeared after the arrival of the new SM 🤔 and a lot of what they say is the way to do things are simply not correct)

I am considering filling out an availability form and putting down "no 3 hour shifts" and photocopying it, however there isn't really a space for something like that. The availability forms only have spaces to fill hour which hours each weekday you are available. (So if you're available on Mondays only from 1-5, you would fill in the blanks with 1:00 and 5:00) But it's something in writing? Maybe? Idk. I have also considered contacting HR, but we don't actually have an on-site HR person, I'd have to call or email them and I'm already worried that my current scheduling issues are a form of retaliation against me (for what, I'm unsure of) and even though I know it's illegal, I fear my hours might get worse if I contact HR, but I feel I can't PROVE retaliation or unfair treatment, because I am not the only one with low hours. HOWEVER I am the only one who's been there for multiple years and I am the only one who spoke to the SM about it and was promised better hours. (But she wouldn't put it in writing, of course) Also, the shitty hours are not consistent. I'll have 3 hour shifts this week for a total of 6 hours this week and then next week, I'll be asked to stay late/come in early and have 2 or 3 8 hour shifts. Which I also feel is purposeful, so that management can go "ohh NOO we're not punishing or discriminating against her, see? She got a FULL SHIFT that day."

Summary/TL;DR: Work has been giving me pisspoor hours. I want hours to improve. How should I ask to not be scheduled 3 hour shifts anymore? Should I contact HR or should I wait to see if the situation resolves itself?

[22degreehalo]

Actually speaking of which

So, the library I'm volunteering at opened up applications for a casual library officer!!!!!

This is the same place I've been helping out for like?? Two years??? More????? at this point???? But last year when I applied they didn't even give me an interview. Like I was literally doing almost the exact same thing I would be doing if I worked there, and I hadn't had any complaints, but they wouldn't even consider me.

I was REALLY bummed and considered giving up this path altogether, but thankfully I did get hired by another library, where I'm working right now!!! And I found out afterwards that another guy who was also volunteering alongside me ALSO applied for that other job where we were volunteering and ALSO didn't get considered (and now ALSO got a job at this new library, thankfully).

I talked to the librarian I'd been assisting and she was really mad on our behalf?? Said she'd heard something about how they were looking for people with retail experience specifically, which is... strange. Like, are they TRYING to run it like a business instead...?

I've still kept volunteering with them, though (albeit I quit part of what I was doing because the schedule turned out to conflict with my new job too much; it was very sad tbh), because they need people, and it's an important role that apparently doesn't get many volunteers, and it's only two hours every other week, and it's still my local council so. It's the most convenient to get to and all. I still hoped they might reconsider hiring me.

And, as I began this all, now they've opened up applications again. So I applied.

But. I don't want to *stop* working where I am; it's genuinely a really great place and I've even become a bit attached to the other people there!! (not something that happens easily hahaha)

Apparently it's normal to have multiple casual library jobs at the same time. So that's been my goal for a while.

But... could I really do that? I'm already not the most organised just with my one job... I know it's normal, but I am neurodivergent... I need to remember that that is a true thing about myself that I can state as a fact...

I don't know. Obviously I could just keep working at this current place until I can get a permanent position somewhere... Though I still don't really feel qualified to do any of it... ugh.

Is it really okay if things just stay as they are...? I've said before that this is an okay minimum, or something like that. I don't *desperately need* to change anything. But is it okay not to even especially try...?

I could go back to TAFE... but part of me thinks that I should go back to uni instead and study cataloguing, because that'd definitely help me get a position, and I'd love to have a part in shaping the non-fiction sections specifically... (god, just walking through the non-fiction shelves is soooo refreshing to the soul <33) But that'd be really expensive, and I already have two degrees I'm basically not doing anything with...

Ugh. Again it feels like giving up on the goal of moving out. But there are already a lot of question marks around that.

Welp. They might not want to hire me anyway. If that happens, I might just finally give up on the volunteering... or at least consider volunteering somewhere else. My library hires people to do the thing I'm volunteering for there (in fact, *I* am one of the people paid to do the thing I'm doing as volunteer at my local library!!); they should consider that, too, if they can't find anyone after me.

idk sorry this is such a long post. I'm not sure how to feel about it all right now...