#I have like three charge units

[awkward-teabag]

Love (cannot emphasis how much sarcasm there is in that word) that an official Canadian government response to high cellphone rates is to switch carriers.

Switch it to what? We basically have three companies since one was allowed to eat the forth (with the government saying it wasn't anti-competition and the company eating the other pinky promising they wouldn't jack rates up). Even the smaller companies have to rent infrastructure from the Big Three so there's only so much they can do if that rent costs an arm and a leg.

And that's not touching on how many "small companies" are actually just subsidiaries of the Big Three. You may save $5 but you're still with Telus/Rogers/Bell.

Or that the actual small companies tend to have shit coverage because they don't have the infrastructure available to them and are prevented from getting it. Or their traffic is throttled in favour of the Big Three's customers. Or both.

Or that they're extremely regional thus aren't an option for a huge chunk of Canada's population.

We have no true options and the government has shown time and again that they're fine with monopolies, in multiple industries, and don't care when said monopolies jack up prices to make shareholders and the c-suite more money at the expense of everyone else. At most there will be a verbal slap on the wrist and a giftcard for $25 that people have to register for, for a decade and a half of price gouging.

It's not talked a whole lot about outside the country from what I've seen and heard but Canada is a country of monopolies. A handful of companies own nearly everything, every province has a family or two that owns a hell of a lot (Nova Scotia is basically owned by one family at this point), and our government ignores it. Even the branch that is supposed to be against monopolies is fine with mergers and takeovers in most cases.

Because, you know, the company said it totally wouldn't use consumers' lack of options to increase prices.

[acedavestrider]

ooooooughhhh biting and maiming and tearing and scratching and killing and bleeding and

[astrxealis]

dropping by a bit just a bit before midnights and i head to sleep because HELLL am i so glad with my fire units actually. i need to do work on proper teams and grids and shit but ?? wilnas percival michael medusa athena anila nemone etc i am Winning here

[ursie]

Brennan’s statement on Palestine :

[ ID: Statement from Brennan Lee Mulligan, on Instagram. It consists of three black squares with plain white text. The text reads as follows:

"I'm calling on my government officials to immediately demand a ceasefire and de-escalation in Gaza.

I applaud anyone and everyone calling for peace, with the understanding that real peace only exists if it deeply and honestly accounts for and fully ends violence in all its forms. Real peace addresses and corrects wrong-doing in the past and guards against it in the future. It goes hand in hand with justice and requires truth, restoration, reconciliation, reparation.

Peace cannot co-exist with collective punishment, ethnic cleansing and forced displacement. It cannot co-exist with blockades, embargoes, or with 2.2 million people, half of which are children, trapped with no hope of escape or political recourse. it cannot co-exist with murdered journalists, bombed hospitals, or years of protesters being shot and killed at the border. it cannot co-exist with illegal settlements, segregated roads, and the silent, imperial chill that settles over the gaps in the violence - the unspoken geopolitical consensus that a group of people need to unflinchingly accept permanent subjugation and occupation.

My hear breaks for every Israeli person who lost loved ones during the attacks of October 7th. It breaks for every Ukrainian person who has lost their loved ones. It breaks for every Congolese person who has lost their loved ones. I do not speak on behalf of Palestinians now because some lives are worth more than others. I speak on their behalf because I, and all Americans, have a responsibility to pressure our government because we are responsible for this. Some have said that this situation is complicated. The Unites States government clearly disagrees. It has definitively, categorically, militarily chosen a side, and I do not agree with that decision.

In wiring this, I have been wrestling with what I am sure many people like me wrestle with: There is a powerful narrative surrounding violence in the Middle East that asserts and ever-moving goalpost of self-education and study in order to even be qualified to have an opinion. As someone with a love of research, I have at times in my life fallen into the trap that I am not educated enough clever enough, or aware enough to have a worthwhile perspective, and that three more articles and two more lectures and one more book will do the trick. Unfortunately, democracy doesn't work that way - we, the citizens of any democracy, cannot possibly be experts on every aspect of the policies of our governments, and yet if we do not constantly weigh in an make our voices heard, the entire experiment falls apart. Not only do people constantly doubt themselves and the things they can see with their own two eyes, but old shortcuts for political action can fall apart as well: This specific issue exists along a raw, charged and unique faultline in American Politics. Nobody I grew up with has ever challenged me on my support for abortion rights, LGBT rights, Black Lives Matter, anti-capitalism, anti-fascism, none of it. The people in my country who would despise me for those positions are, for all intents and purposes, strangers to me. But there are people who I've broken bread with and shared honest affection with who will see the words I've written here and incorrectly conclude that I do not wish for the security, dignity and happiness of them and their loved ones, and that breaks my fucking heart. Full-throatedly condemning the actions of the Israeli government while battling rampant anti-semitism at home is an urgent moral necessity, and doing so is made unnecessarily challenging for the average person to navigate by the pointed obfuscations of cynical opportunists, bigots, and demagogues on all sides of the political spectrum who see some advantage in sowing that incredibly dangerous confusion.

So, I'm calling my representatives. I'm having hard conversations with friends and family. I'm here, talking to you. I should have done it sooner. If you're Israeli and hurt by this statement, know that I want freedom, dignity, security and peace for you, and that every ounce of my political awareness believes whole-heartedly that the actions of your government are not only destroying innocent lives, but doing so to the detriment of you and your loved ones' safety. If you're American and feel lost and confused - I understand and empathize. This, the whole country, only works when we get involved. I am constantly haunted by the specter that maybe I missed some crucial piece of information on this, or any, important world event. I'll just have to make my peace with that self-doubt and trust my gut by going with Jewish Voice for Peace, Amnesty International, the Geneva Conventions, the United Nations, etc. And if you're Palestinian and reading this: I unreservedly support your right to life, to freedom, to happiness and human flourishing, to full enfranchisement and equal rights, to opportunity, prosperity and abundance, to the restoration of stolen property and land, and to a Free Palestine." End ID ]

[elumish]

Tomorrow (or today, depending on your time zone), November 5 is election day in the United States, and so I am going to make one last plea.

If you haven't voted, if you're on the fence, if you're undecided, if you're leaning against it--

Go out tomorrow and vote anyway, because it matters.

For all its many flaws, we have seen some extraordinary good from the Biden administration. It has been quiet, it has been unobtrusive, it has been the type of government we mostly haven't had to think about, like we all dreamed about under Trump.

Kamala Harris has her own accolades to stand on. She has experience in all three branches of government--between the federal and state levels, she has been part of the judiciary, the legislature, and the executive branch. That is a virtually unprecedented for a candidate for president.

She performed one of the first same-sex marriages in the country. She established a hate crime unit in San Francisco to investigate crimes against queer youth. She established criminal justice reforms in California. She has a huge range of progressive accomplishments spanning decades.

Donald Trump, on the other hand, is a felon and a rapist who has shown unwavering support for Netanyahu, appointed the Supreme Court justices who overturned Roe, and attempted to overturn the results of the last election by fomenting a violent insurrection.

The reality of U.S. politics is that one of two people will win the election. Our only possibilities are Harris and Trump.

If your priority is protecting American lives, or if it's protecting Palestinian and Lebanese lives, or if it's moving policies leftward in the United States, there is only one choice that will get you there, and it's voting for Harris for president.

Voting tomorrow will not be the glorious revolution. It will not fix the entire U.S. government. It will not enact every leftist policy you dream of.

But it does matter. It will matter a hell of a lot. No matter what you think of Harris, she will be a more compassionate, rational, intelligent, progressive president than Trump.

And if your goal is to push the country to the left, it takes actually electing candidates who are to the left. Letting a more conservative candidate win will not accomplish any of your goals.

So you vote for Harris. And then you show up and you organize. You protest. You tell her every day how you disagree with her and what you think she should be doing differently. You call your local representatives, your state representatives, your congresspeople. You write. You march. You show up and push for the policies you believe in.

But none of those policies will be possible if Donald Trump is in charge. We don't even need to speculate about this, because we saw what a Trump presidency looked like, and it was horrifying.

So go vote.

[surielstea]

Worried Mates

1k celebration request by @mira-says

Pairing: Poly!Bat Boys x Valkyrie!Reader

Summary: Reader gets badly injured and her three mates fuss over her.

Warnings: Light gore | canon-typical violence | injury | hurt/comfort | fluff | angst | happy ending

A.Note: This takes place during the war between humans and fae 500 years before the events of ACoTaR, Reader is a Valkyrie Commander.

2.1k words

"Gods—" I grunt, gripping my aching side. The war between mortals and fae was raging, and it seemed that it wouldn't be stopping any time soon.

When my half-sister, Miryam, had told me that she planned on fleeing with Prince Drakon once the war was over I thought she must've been insane. I only wanted joy for my sister of course, but it was foolish of her to think the two of them could have their happy ending after helping initiate this war.

But now, bleeding out and surrounded by enemies I was starting to understand the appeal of leaving everyone behind and escaping with my mates. I was at death's doorstep, too tired to even lift my sword, and I wanted nothing more than to be in the arms of the males I loved most.

I watched all my companions die off, my friends, Valkyrie's far better than me dying before me. It wasn't right.

I was the commander of the Valkyrie units, and now they're gone. Commander of no one because I failed them all by leading them into a war I knew we couldn't win.

An armed fae charged towards me, his sword held high as he screamed like a madman.

I tightened my grip on my shield and used his momentum against him, his sword clanging hard to the Illyrian steel of my shield as I pushed it back into him. He tumbled to the ground under the weight of it and with the sharp point of my shield I thrusted it straight into his chest. He fell limp.

A battle cry sounded from behind me and I groaned, every inch of my body protesting any further movement. I unsheathed my heavy sword while turning around to face a hulking male, lifting it up in challenge.

He swings first, his scarlet-covered blade meeting mine. He was much stronger than me, bigger too but he was slow. He pushed hard and my aching arms strained under the pressure. I steadied my breathing and pushed his blade away from me. He came back swinging with twice the force, going right for my head. I bent back, my spine screaming at me as his blade swung just above my nose, the sharpness of it slicing into a rogue hair that had strayed from its braid.

With the remaining energy I honed, I thrust my sword into the male's chest. He yelped, his sword clattering to the ground, and with one last attempt to gut me, he swung to grab me with his free hand. I screamed as I felt a searing pain in my side. I looked down to find a large knife embedded into my torso. When I looked back to the male he twisted the knife and I felt as if my entire body was set aflame. I clenched my teeth together as I plunged my sword into his chest again, and when I pulled it out he was already in the dirt, receiving the same fate as his comrades.

My knees buckled as I looked at my side again, blood pooling at my feet as it ran down my leg.

I dug my sword in the ground, using it for support so I could at least stay standing. My entire left side felt paralyzed as I continued to lose that precious scarlet liquid.

I squeezed my eyes shut before forcing them open, my vision bleary as I grew increasingly dizzy.

In the distance, I saw another armed soldier charging at me. For a moment I debated letting him have my life, it was soon nearing a close anyway.

But I hadn’t trained for years to be cut down by a measly foot soldier, hadn’t clawed and scraped my way through ranks to die by a stranger's hand. I curse, deciding that I wouldn't go out in forfeit, I would die fighting or I would not die at all. With only my right arm I lifted my sword up toward the sky, ready to strike.

But just as he was about to reach me a gleam of red flashed and the soldier's head went flying in the opposite direction of his body. Directly in front of me stood a male, glowing in red, my vision began to darken at the corners but I could recognize those wings anywhere. "Oh thank the gods," I sighed in pure relief, falling to my knees as Cassian ran forward to catch me before my head could hit the hard ground. He spotted the gushing wound in my side immediately, then looked at my dilated pupils.

“Hey, sweetheart,” He rasped, his voice raw from shouting commands at soldiers over the fields. “Cass,” I hum his name, the familiarity of it bringing me a warm feeling. I was glad to see he was unharmed. “Lean on me,” He says while gently brushing my stubborn hairs away from my sweat, and most likely blood, lined forehead.

"I'm going to get you out of here," Was all I managed to hear from him before darkness consumed me and my vision blackened entirely.

When I cracked my eyes open I immediately winced at the harsh light of the room I was being kept in. The sound of frustrated voices registered first, then the smell of lavender, and the softness of the pillow behind my head, and then finally my vision came. I spotted Rhysand and Cassian first, quietly bickering over something I couldn’t find in myself to care for. They were both changed from their armor, cleansed from the blood and dirt of the war. Even though they both looked clean and seemed how they always did I could tell something was off. Their wings were terse and the bags beneath their eyes were prominent.

It took a lot to mar the beauty of a Fae male, especially the two of them, and yet I don’t think I’ve ever seen them more distressed.

They continued their hushed argument, oblivious to the fact that I had woken up so I cast my eyes elsewhere, toward the third male in the room who had his head tilted downward, his scarred hands in his lap. He stared at those scars, his shaky hands making it seem like he’d done something wretched, so horrid he somehow didn’t think it probable that it was done with his own hands.

My brows creased, all three of them were in sorrow, and whether it was because I was bedridden or it was simply the after-effects of the war I was unsure.

“Good morning,” Is all I can think to say. It was casual, a little hoarse, but simple.

The room fell silent and all three heads snapped towards me. Their lips all formed tight straight lines as they bored their eyes into me.

I couldn’t tell if it was shock or relief, perhaps both.

A large smile cracks across my lips. “Were you guys worried about me?” I suggest, raising my brows accusingly.

“Gods,” A large figure crashes into me and I groan. Cassian clings to me tightly, hugging me into his warm chest. “Of course, we were worried,” He whispers, as if afraid he’d break this moment by speaking any louder.

“You’re crushing her, Cass,” Rhys says from behind him and I chuckle, looking at the violet-eyed male and giving him a gentle smirk which he matched. I pulled away from Cassian’s embrace first and he reluctantly let go of me.

“I’m sorry love,” Azriel sighed, his hand coming to intertwine with my fingers. “Sorry for what Az?” My brows crease.

“My shadows should’ve been with you, I could’ve stopped that soldier from hurting you—” The Illyrian starts but Cassian cuts him off.

“No Az it’s my fault, I should have been there sooner. I should have taken that dagger not her—” He tried but this time it was Rhys to cut him off.

“Both of you stop being ridiculous, I was the one that allowed her to fight, it was my mistake from the beginning,” The High Lord asserts, crossing his arms over his chest.

“My gods, do you three ever quit taking the blame for everything?” I looked pointedly at Rhys when I spoke. “I would’ve commanded the Valkyries to fight alongside you whether it was cleared or not,” I confess and Rhys subtly frowns at that, the unspoken question of me being the last Valkyrie was now answered with that expression. A wave of shame passed over me, but I pushed it aside for now, deciding to spend this moment with my three very paranoid, but very alive mates.

“I’m fine,” I give Azriel’s hand a squeeze.

“Madja said if the blade went even a fraction deeper it would’ve been fatal,” The blue siphoned male argued, and my brows bunch.

“But it didn’t,” I state.

“But it could have,” He snarled and I had never seen him so angry, so scared.

My eyes softened and I let a soft smile grace my features. “Az,” I whispered, attempting to bring him comfort to remind him I was alive and healthy.

Azriel was the first of the three that I bonded with, we’ve always had a different connection because of it. I’ll love all of them equally no matter what, but it left Azriel to be more protective of me than the other two.

He stands suddenly, our hands still tangled. “You nearly died, you nearly abandoned us for a place where we aren’t allowed to join you,” He snapped and my heart ached at the pained look on his face. I would’ve been furious too if it were him on the brink of death, I would’ve found a way to steal him back from death itself if that treacherous event were to come.

“Azriel,” Cassian snapped at the male but I held a hand up, waving him off.

I sat up, my side screamed at me in protest but I ignored it. I wore my softest white nightgown, only realizing it once I stood from the bed, slightly unsteady but upright nonetheless. I narrow my gaze at Azriel.

“I am here, I am alive,” I say. “A little scratched up but I don’t think Rhys will let me out in the field anytime soon,” I smile and Rhys shifts behind me.

“You heard that right,” The High Lord grumbled under his breath and I tossed him a glance over my shoulder.

I look back to Azriel, reaching for his other hand and holding them both. “See? I’m alright, I promise,” I look up at him lovingly and his shoulders dip in relief.

“Okay,” He nods, silently cursing himself for acting out so brashly. “You just, had me worried is all,” He excuses and I smile softly, letting go of one of his hands in favor of cupping his jaw.

“I know honey, I know,” I murmur before lifting up and placing a reassuring kiss on his lips, he returns it by bringing his free hand to my hip, pulling me closer.

“Is it just me or do you feel excluded too?” Cassian loudly whispered to Rhysand and I giggled against Azriel’s lips, pulling away and turning my head to cast a playful glare at the two piqued males, clearly attention-deprived.

“Then come over here already,” I give them an inviting smirk and they quickly scramble around the bed to reach me and it takes everything in me not to giggle at how desperate they were to be in my clutches yet again.

“One for you,” I placed my hand on Rhys’ jaw and gave him a soft peck, he barely had time to reciprocate it until I was rearing back. “And,” I grabbed Cass by his shirt. “One for you,” I gave him the same kiss.

“You taste like a coma,” The male murmured, smacking his lips and I rolled my eyes.

“You each got one, are you three satisfied now?” I arch a brow.

“Satisfied? Nowhere near it darling,” Rhys grabbed me by the waist and hoisted me up and over his shoulder.

“Wait! I’m still not fully healed yet!” I yelped, banging my fists on his back playfully.

“We’ll be gentle,” Cassian reassured with a gleeful smile. I looked at Azriel but he only smirked.

“No promises,” He shrugged and I groaned, letting my body go limp as Rhys carried me towards the High Lord's chambers.

“If you guys open my stitches I’ll give all of you stitches,” I threatened but none of them seemed to care, and to be honest nothing sounded better than the idea of being cradled by three tan, very large, Illyrians after such a long war.

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[s-che]

a game where we hurt each other

Last month, I played perhaps the most intense TTRPG session of my life as part of the Dream Library’s discussion of Bluebeard’s Bride, a game of “feminist horror” (more on this later) published by Magpie in a gorgeous print edition. Over the course of the month of October my guest lecturer/collaborator @marvelousmsmolly I collectively hosted three sessions of what was by far the most challenging game the Dream Library has ever discussed. 

We came to Bluebeard as the second part of our fall semester covering games of intimacy and monstrosity — a unit which began in September with Avery Alder’s Monsterhearts 2 and is continuing this month with Vampire: The Masquerade (If you want to get in on the VTM discussion and future semesters, please, come join). Both Molly and I suspected that Bluebeard was going to be both a quieter month and a riskier text — but opted to play through it anyway, albeit with some tools in place to make sure everyone knew what they were getting into with a book that doesn’t pull many punches. And with all that, the first two sessions went... fine? We had some lumpy pacing, some conflicting styles of play, some questions about how a game that really seems to encourage player bleed can possibly be played online, but for the most part things were fine. Not great, not bad — not worth the anxiety we’d had about them.

And “fine,” of course, doesn’t make for interesting conversations, so Molly and I took a step back. We talked about what was going wrong: a sense that neither of us quite felt comfortable hitting hard enough, even though we asked players ahead of time and at the start of sessions to tell us what was off the table. A frustration that player choice had trended towards the Bride as a detective/hero and not someone embodied in a world of horror. A confusion — once again — over what it means to “shiver with terror” in a discord call with some friends online. Out of that conversation came a new idea: rather than two more one-shots, Molly took some time to charge up a spirit bomb and put together some more formal prep, then recruited a group she felt could get together for a more curated experience. She wrote up her own excellent thoughts on what went down — along with a lot of session details — but you’ll have to join the Dream Library for that. 

The result of all that curation and preparation was that on October 23rd a group of four trans women — Molly, @jdragsky, our friend Mars, and I — sat down to play Bluebeard’s Bride knowing exactly what we were in for. We would be playing a transfem Bride, Bluebeard would be cis, and we would be hitting transfem-specific horror as hard as we possibly could. 

I’m going to quote from Molly’s reflection, where she wrote:

“Another really great aspect of running this game for this table is there was such a clear feeling that we all understood, wordlessly, what was going on... There are some moments in Allison Rumfitt’s gothic horror novel ‘Tell Me I’m Worthless’ where it felt like the author, a trans woman, was dropping phrases knowing exactly how her transfem audience would react... This had a twofold effect of both giving the players a chilling moment but also, a very brief but appropriate separation between fiction and player where could all grimace and be together in that discomfort before pushing on. People knew what I was doing. The problem with the original game is it doesn’t really want to discuss the politics of what “feminine horror” means. Because of this you’re really lacking some focus. I think a table of cis women could actually play bluebeard’s bride in the way we did last night and have it hit hard for them if they approached it correctly, I don’t think our experience was uniquely elevated by our trans reading, however that was one of several tools we used for that elevation.”

Setting aside the strengths and weaknesses of the original text, that sense of shared experience was key to our game and key to allowing us to hit — and get hit — really hard and trust that our coplayers were there with us. Compared to our earlier efforts (prioritizing safety by taking things off the table via lines/veils) tightening the topical scope from an ambiguous “feminist horror” to a specific transfeminist horror in the context of a chaser bf, in the context of an economic disparity, in the context of the medical pressures of transition in the contemporary U.K. allowed Molly, our lovely host, to hurt us knowing that we were all in it together and choosing to play this game. It transformed the horror from an obstacle in an adventure game into a thing we were seeking out: a pleasure/pain we asked to feel. 

In a games discourse that is — understandably — interested in protections which might be implemented anywhere, including at cons and home tables with much less of an art-and-politics interest, safety tools are often thought about as a negative thing, a preemptive cutting away of all the things which might end up hurting us. I think that’s part of why people can have a hard time filling out a lines/veils list in advance of a session. What are all the things in the world I’m sensitive to? What are all the contexts in which I’m sensitive to them? Good sensitive or bad sensitive? Sensitive enough to cause a scene? Sensitive enough to make it off the table? 

In place of that — and in a table with a really remarkable amount of trust — this final Bluebeard session leaned in, hard, to the things that hurt us. That was the game. Molly wrote a lot about kink in her reflection, and I think she was right to do that. The point of the game was to hurt each other and to feel, and it was a better game for keeping that in mind. It was an actual horror game, and not just a game with horror aesthetics. I agree with Molly that there was nothing essential about having an all-transfem table — I think what we did could be done by anyone, even with the base Bluebeard’s Bride. What was essential was having a table where we all trusted each other enough to play a hurting game and to know that we were there on purpose. It elevated Bluebeard’s Bride into a really fascinating, messy experience — one I can’t wait to play again.

[seraphinitegames]

The Wayhaven Chronicles—Update 19/July/2024

Some really fun scenes to write this week!

One of them being a major villain POV, which I just had a blast with, hehe! :D

As I was writing, I wanted to make sure this villain’s main strength was obvious, and how much it contrasts with some of vampires, who definitely don’t have this strength. *cough*A, N, and M*cough*

Adaptability.

Having someone who can adapt and react to situations, especially ones they are SO unfamiliar with, incredibly fast is a surprisingly strong—and terrifying—trait for this villain and something a bit different! But they really do it very well :D

I also got started on the scenes for the different Units, and the MC gets to interact with a different Commanding Agent of the three available depending on which one gets rolled up in the random selection for that scene.

Writing the different ways those characters approach those moments—all different but with the view of a leader—definitely shows why they were picked from their teams to be the ones in charge! It was great fun writing the choice sets for the MC and working out how these characters would respond to that, especially some of the more intense choices!

I also FINALLY made the very last decision on the new stats that are going in that relate to your character’s new role as an Agent! It’s taken a looong time as well as a lot of reworking, but I’m finally happy with them and think they will have impact needed. Stats aren’t really my thing, so I wanted a selection that would actually add and enhance the choices and variations rather than just simply adding in things to add points.

Also got those coded in, as we’re coming up to the section where you start really pushing forward on those! The stats your character has gathered so far will still play into narrative, it’s just these will help add a different element for the more Agency-focused career your character is now a part of!

So yeah, a seriously fun week of really getting to some awesomely fun scenes with characters I can’t wait for you to interact with and meet, hehe! :D

It looks like we’re still on schedule for the late July/early August release of Chapter Two in the demo! Will keep you updated on how that is going too as I get comments/edits back.

Hope you all have the most amazing weekend! We’ll be offline as usual, so I’ll update you all again next week! <3

[my-my-my]

KINKTOBER DAY 3 - Orgasm Denial (+ age gap): Ryuken Ishida x Female Reader

Requested by Anonymous

Summary: Dr. Ishida was a brilliant doctor, earning the praise of all those working at Karakura Hospital. His dedication to his work inspired you to become a doctor yourself, leading you to work at the same hospital. Years have gone by, and the staff continue to praise the Head Director's work, but how little do they know how much control he seeks, especially with you.

TW: MDNI! Slight age gap between Ryuken and you (but you're older than Uryuu), orgasm denial, use of sex toys, oral sex (male receiving), dirty talk, slight hints of a dom/sub relationship.

Word count: 1849

Read on AO3 here.

You made your way through your unit, conducting your regular rounds to visit your patients. Reviewing patient chart, after patient chart, and listening to the worries and concerns from your patients’ loved ones, you were weary by the time you reached the nursing station.

But as exhausted as you were, you worked hard for this career and loved being a doctor. You thanked the staff for their hard work today. One of the nurses wanted your consultation on the next steps of a patient’s discharge plan, when Dr. Ishida, the head director of the Karakura Hospital entered the ward.

You bowed your head politely but continued your discussion with the nurse. The charge nurse informed you on the general updates of their unit to him. You didn’t pay close attention to their conversation but noticed him walking away to the next unit.

Once he was out of earshot, some of the nurses and residents gushed about him, “Dr. Ishida is so handsome.” One said, followed by someone else chiming in “he’s such an incredible doctor, his patients seem to adore him.” Comment after comment, praising him for being a talented doctor and leader for the hospital.

The nurse who you were speaking with quietly asked you, “I mean, isn’t that why you decided to work at this hospital, Doctor?”

“I mean, who wouldn’t want to work with Dr. Ishida?” A fellow responded, laughing loudly.

The small group laughed, with you joining in. Once the laughter died down, you shared with the group your reasons for working at the Karakura Hospital. You had long admired the work of Dr. Ishida, and you had seen his bedside manner and care for a distant relative of yours while you were in high school.

You had always been driven to become a doctor, but he set the standard for you on how a doctor should be. He was thoughtful and driven.

But people have always said “don’t meet your heroes.” You worked hard during medical school, during residency and your fellowship, and you achieved your goal for working in Karakura Hospital.

But how would the staff react to knowing their wonderful Dr. Ishida, so dutiful to medicine and his patients, was dating one of the much younger doctors?

When the two of you had begun dating, he was strict, as if he was compartmentalizing his feelings for you and his duty to the hospital as a medical professional. You would see this in action with Ryuken’s own young adult son, a man a few years younger than you. Ryuken was cold with his son, the few times the three of you would have dinner together, but tried to be patient with Uryuu nonetheless. And in private, would talk about Uryuu with a gentle tone in his voice.

From what you had seen about Ryuken, from work to his personal life, control was of upmost importance to him. If there was one thing you knew for certain about the man, he hated rumours and gossip. You never felt as if he was ashamed of his relationship with you, but more so that there was a distinction between romance, work, and everything else in his life.

The nursing staff would be aghast as to how he was like in the bedroom though, you laughed to yourself. The nurse you were speaking asked what was funny, “oh nothing, I was just reminding myself of what the fellow said earlier.” You gave a gentle smile. “If there’s anything else I need to review, please bring it to me, or else I’ll be heading out now.” You said to the attending nurses.

It was your day off, a rare event in your life. You had already planned out your day �� reading, reading, and more reading. You wanted to be up to date in your field, learning and understanding any new research that had come to light.

But Ryuken had other plans. The man was never one for texting, but rather call you, leaving you a voicemail stating he would be visiting your place for lunch.

You weren’t particularly fussed about lunch, making something simple, yet filling for the two of you. You also knew Ryuken hated being too full at work.

Ryuken had brought you a coffee, and a shopping bag from a store you didn’t recognize, but he left it alone for the entirety of lunch. Lunch was quiet affair, as he asked you what you had done so far during the day. You shared with him interesting articles you had read, discussing with him new techniques and technologies on the way. Ryuken smiled at you softly, watching the way you lit up sharing these things with him.

The hour went by quickly, with Ryuken preparing his leave, but just before he left, he gave you the shopping bag. “I made a reservation for dinner, and I want you to wear this.” He said, his tone even as he quickly checked his tie in the mirror by your door.

“Thank you? But I have plenty of dresses I could have worn.” You said, carefully peering into the bag.

“I know, but I saw this on a mannequin in store and thought of you when I saw it.” Ryuken remarked, his voice cold, as if he were telling you the time. But you knew he was sincere in his actions. Gifts from him were truly thoughtful matters.

You smiled at the bag, seeing white fabric inside, “I’m happy to wear it.” You kissed him on the cheek, smelling the faint scent of cigarettes, and watched him depart for the hospital.

Ryuken had bought you a simple, cream-coloured maxi dress with billowy sleeves, yet fairly form fitting at the top, nipping you at the waist. It then fell to a floating skirt below. The sleeves had little accents of blue and grey, which reminded you of some of the clothing Ryuken wore, leading you to question if had truly bought it, or had it custom made.

Either way, you adorned yourself with simple jewelry, make up and footwear, waiting for Ryuken to arrive.

As soon as you had finished getting ready, Ryuken was at your door, but he didn’t usher you to leave with him just yet.

“It fits you like a glove.” He remarked, inspecting your figure. “But it’s missing something.”

Confusion spread across your face as he pulled you to your bedroom. He pushed you on to the bed and looked down on you. His face was stern, as if he were assessing you for something. You were nervous.

“Do you trust me?” He asked, as he looked straight into your eyes.

“Yes, of course? But what’s wrong?” Confusion echoed through your voice, wondering why he was acting this way. He was usually very direct, so matter-of-fact in his words and actions.

“You ignored me yesterday,” Ryuken remarked, pushing your legs apart. The familiar drop of arousal came with it, as the skirt of your dress began to ride up your thighs. You shuddered from his touch as he coldly stared at you.

“You were busy, I didn’t want to interrupt.” You whimpered out, as he pushed your skirt past your underwear.

You had decided to wear a nude thong, worried that the dress was a bit sheer. Ryuken clicked his tongue in approval of your choice.

“You won’t be needing this.” Ryuken said, with an indifferent tone, as he pulled your thong off your body.

“But what about our reservation?” You shrieked, “won’t we be late?”

“I cancelled it.” Ryuken calmly explained.

It was then he pulled something out of his pocket. It was a remote-controlled vibrator you were curious about. That was so long ago, you thought. You were casually browsing an online sex toy shop at Ryuken’s home, and he asked what you were looking at it. You made a passing comment about how you thought the vibrator looked fun but paid no mind to it. But Ryuken certainly did.

Ryuken’s warm fingers spread your pussy lips apart, with his thumb circling your clit. You moaned softly as his thumb rubbed against your clit gently. Soon Ryuken’s finger was circling your entrance before he pushed it in. He pumped his finger out of you, your pussy growing wetter with each motion, before he pulled his hand away.

You whined at the sudden loss, until you felt something unfamiliar gently stretch your pussy and something else grazing your clit.

It was then, Ryuken got off the bed and watched over you, his phone in his hand. As soon as you tried to get up, an intense pulse came from the snug toy inside your pussy, followed by a whirring of something pressed against your clit. You screamed at the intensity, writhing as Ryuken toyed with the different levels of the toy, a satisfied smirk appearing on his lips.

The vibrations were relentless, as you felt tears prick your eyes. Your pussy clamped around the toy as its clit portion pulsated at random intervals – you couldn’t discern its pattern.

“I’m going to cum!” You shrieked, as you gripped your bed sheets.

Then the vibrations stopped. Ryuken immediately grabbed your face in one hand, his eyebrows knitted, “you know better than that.” He sneered, to which you whined in response. You needed to cum so badly. Ryuken’s hand flew to your hair, grabbing a fistful, forcing you to look up at him. “You’re not allowed to cum unless I say you can. Did you forget that?” He ordered, the grip on your hair tightening.

You sobbed as you felt your pussy throb from being so close to relief. “I’m sorry sir, please let me cum.”

Ryuken smirked, “good girl”, letting go of your hair. He kneeled next to you, unzipping his pants and pulling out his soft cock. “But even better girls please their master before cumming.” As he pulled your head to his cock.

You began to lap at his tip, feeling him twitch and harden against your mouth. You sucked his tip, feeling the taste of his precum on your lips, before working your way down.

It was then you jolted, as the vibrator worked its magic again. You moaned around Ryuken’s cock, with his steady hand back on your head, slowly forcing his cock down your throat. Tears pricked your eyes, as you felt your pussy throb and spasm, but you couldn’t cum. You tried to steal your resolve on sucking Ryuken off, as you bobbed your head on his cock.

The vibrations were relentless, with Ryuken giving a cold stare at you, watching you struggle to keep your pace. He narrowed his eyes, as he pulled you off his cock, a string of your saliva linking your mouth to the tip of his cock, “you’ve been slacking off, slut.” Ryuken coldly explained, as he gripped his cock, gently tapping your face with it. “But we have all night, so open your mouth.” Flashing you another smirk as the vibrator increased in intensity.

Your eyes rolled as the vibrator continued to whirl around you, while your mouth was stuffed with Ryuken’s cock.

This was going to be a long night indeed.

Thanks for reading! This mini-fic was set to Hidden Face's "White Carousel."

[incorrectdccomicquotes]

Scarecrow: *evil laughter*

Robin: Congratulations on taking over the US healthcare system, doctor.

Scarecrow: All it took was a little elbow grease, and a comically large space laser.

Robin: So what’s your plan now?

Scarecrow: I’ll do what I do best: I’m going to make it evil! I’ll start by squeezing cash out of the chronically sick by charging exorbitant prices for their medicine. Diabetics will have to pay me a hundred - no - two hundred dollars for their insulin! *more evil laughter*

Robin: They… already do that.

Scarecrow: What?

Robin: Insulin already costs at least that much.

Scarecrow: Really? Two hundred dollars?

Batman: It’s closer to three hundred.

Scarecrow: Wow, okay. Diabolical. Guess the US beat me to the punch there.

Robin: They certainly beat you to punching diabetics.

Scarecrow: It’s fine. I have plenty of other great, evil ideas. Next, I’ll make treatment impossible to access by ensuring the hospitals are understaffed. And I’ll do this by limiting the number of people who are even allowed to become doctors! *even more evil laughter*

Robin: They do that, too.

Scarecrow: What? There’s no way.

Robin: Do you remember having to do a residency to become a doctor?

Scarecrow: Well, I’m not a medical doctor, exactly. I have a PhD in women’s studies…

Robin: Women’s studies?

Scarecrow: Being an evil dictator doesn’t exclude me from being a feminist, Boy Wonder.

Robin: Right… Well, you have to complete a residency at a hospital to become a physician. But the funds for hiring residents are provided by the US government. So the number of available resident programs (thus doctors) is decided by the Congress’ budget.

Scarecrow: So not only did they only do my evil thing, they did it in a more sinister and more subtle way.

Robin: Basically.

Scarecrow: I’m not sure if I should be proud of my country or disgusted by it.

Robin: Maybe both.

Scarecrow: Seems as though I’ll have to do something truly despicable to defeat the US government. In that case, I’ll make sure that the only people who can even afford healthcare are the ones who work for companies that benefit my economic interests!

Batman: That’s called insurance.

Scarecrow: Uhh, and I’ll let the hospitals deny treatment entirely to those who don’t have the correct insurance!

Robin: …

Scarecrow: No!

Robin: Yep.

Scarecrow: Oh my god.

Batman: You have some tough competition.

Scarecrow: They’ve already done every evil thing. Next, you’re going to tell me the hospitals are straight up racist.

Robin: Funny you should say that. According to recent research -

Scarecrow: Stop! I don’t wanna know! Ugh, all this information is making me feel like I’m gonna have a heart attack!

Robin: Should I call an ambulance?

Scarecrow: No, it’ll cost too much! Screw this, I can’t be more cartoonishly evil than the United States healthcare system. And I am literally a villain!

Robin: So what will you do?

Scarecrow: I’m just gonna take over something pure and free of corruption. Like uh, the US educational system!

Batman: Oh, boy.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

How to Improve your Writing

Rick Riordan's Writing Tips

Rick Riordan:

Taste is subjective, and opinions differ about what "good writing" looks like. Most of us have read a bestseller or two and wondered, "How did this thing get published?" Nevertheless, I would argue that most work does not get published unless it demonstrates a certain level of technical competence. The grammar is correct. The prose is readable. I would further argue that most manuscripts are rejected because the writing is not technically competent. The manuscript never stands a chance because the writer simply doesn't know the craft of writing well enough. If you write well, you have already set yourself apart from 99% of what agents and editors see every day. Below are some notes on what I call "sentence level competence" — the ability to craft prose at the most basic level. These tips reflect the most common problems I've observed in unpublished manuscripts.

Sentence-Level Competence

Sentence focus — the subjects of all clauses should be appropriate to the content of the sentence.

Favor the concrete over the abstract, the antecedent over the pronoun.

Example: It was a sunny day. (the subject "it" is boring and vague.)

Better: The sky was brilliant blue. (Here the subject is sky, which is what the sentence was supposed to be about.)

If you are writing a sentence about a guy named Fred, the subject in the sentence should be (surprise!) Fred.

Exercise

Go through a page of prose and underline your own subjects.

How many are abstract?

How many of your sentences are truly focused?

Modifiers

Be sure the modifier refers to the right thing.

The modifier should refer to the closest noun.

Confusing modifiers will trip up the reader, consciously or subconsciously.

By the same token, pronouns should have clear antecedents.

Always place the modifier as close to the subject as possible.

Example: Can you help other writers who are writing books like me? (I got this question recently. I understand what the person is saying, but 'like me' follows the word 'books' so he is implying, without meaning to, that there are people producing books that look like him.)

Better: Can you help other writers like me who are writing books?

Exercise

Color-code a page of your manuscript, making each phrase and clause a different color.

Match up dependent clauses and phrases with their modifiers.

Avoid getting your modifier too far away from the thing being modified.

Deft Description

Choose your details carefully.

A description should be vivid, but surgically precise.

The detail must be given for a reason, and have a logical connection to the plot or advancement of character.

Avoid long "grocery lists" of details.

For a paragraph-length description, offer a uniting theme — an extended metaphor — to give the details cohesion.

Example: He was six feet tall, three hundred pounds, with brown hair, small brown eyes, a big nose and big fists. He wore jeans and a muscle shirt. He looked angry. (this is way too much description for the reader to keep track of, and it is offered as a random list)

Better: He looked like a rhino, ready to charge. (then you can pick a few details that reinforce the image of a rhino)

Exercise

Go through a chapter and delete all adjectives and adverbs.

Read through, then add some back in sparingly.

You may find you can do with less than before.

Parallelism

Clauses or phrases that are part of a list should be similar in structure.

Unparallel constructions are awkward and difficult to read, even if the reader can't put her finger on the exact problem.

Example: He likes dogs, hiking in the woods and reads books a lot. (Dogs is a single noun, hiking in the woods is a participial phrase, reads books a lot is a simple predicate. These are all totally different things. Make them the same, and the sentence will flow much better.)

Better: He likes walking his dog, hiking in the woods, and reading lots of books.

Exercise

Try constructing your descriptions in parallel units — absolutes, infinitives, adjectives.

Source ⚜ Writing Notes & References

[sergeantxrogers]

Can you please write something with the idea of y/n asking Bucky if she can tie a pink ribbon around his bicep? Thank you

Request: "Can you please write something with the idea of y/n asking Bucky if she can tie a pink ribbon around his bicep? Thank you"

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: none, just fluff

Note: hooooly shit guys, i've been gone for way too long. hope you enjoy <3

_____

The jingle of keys in the doorknob had you lifting your eyes from your book, followed by the sound of the door opening and closing softly. The quiet whispers of a jacket being taken off, laces being untied, keys being set on the small table beside the door travelled through the apartment, meeting your ears and bringing a smile to your face.

Soft footsteps padded against the hardwood floor, careful to avoid any creaky spots.

"I'm awake, Buck," you called out softly from the comfort of your bed, and you heard him pause his movements. And then continue, a bit quicker than before.

Brown hair and blue eyes popped around the the edge of the door frame, brows furrowed. "It's midnight. Why are you still awake?"

You shrugged, sitting up in bed and setting your book aside. "Dunno, really. Got caught up reading."

Bucky frowned, and stepped into the room, walking over to the bed. "You can't sleep?"

It was a casual question, but you sensed the undertone of worry laced through it, and smiled to yourself.

"Actually, I spent most of the evening redecorating, so I'll probably start snoring as soon as the lights are off."

Bucky's hands reached for yours, grabbing them and bringing them up to his lips as he stood in front of you. One, two, three kisses along your knuckles. One hand, then the other.

"Redecorating?" he murmured against your skin, and you nodded slyly. His eyes narrowed, partially in amusement, partially in curiosity.

You cleared your throat and pulled your hands back, settling yourself back into the fluffy down of your pillows and blankets. "How was work today?"

At your question, Bucky's jaw ticked.

"It was fine."

You studied him for a few seconds, and cocked your head. "Just fine?"

He let out a heavy sigh, then collapsed atop the comforter at the foot of the bed. On nights like this, when he came home later than usual, the tension in his shoulders a bit more prominent than usual, the bags under his eyes a bit heavier, he found it hard to form sentences adequate enough to explain how he felt or what he needed.

Ever since the government cleared him of all charges and his mandated therapy ended, Bucky had taken up a job at the DCSA.

Defense Counterintelligence and Security Agency.

On paper, James Buchanan Barnes was an ordinary, ex-military security guard working for the Department of Defense and the United States.

In reality, the executive branch of the federal government reached out to him themselves and offered him a job doing what they claimed he did best: making people disappear, and making it seem like an accident. He was hesitant at first, unwilling to be the very thing he tried so hard to run away from being, but soon enough, they had made it very clear he had limited options: accept the position, or get thrown in prison for all the charges they claimed to have dropped.

So, for all his hesitating and hatred, Bucky Barnes was the United States government's own personal hitman, killing anybody who posed a threat to the life of the president, his family, or anybody in the Senate.

At least they paid better than HYDRA, Bucky had once joked. You could see, in his eyes, how much it pained him to revert back to his old ways, once again not having a choice.

Bucky cleared his throat, and glanced at you, blinking away the shadows behind his eyes.

"It's fine, sweetheart. I promise. It could have been worse."

Your heart cracked in your chest and you frowned, burying your cheek even deeper into your pillow as you looked at him. "If you say so."

Bucky pursed his lips to the side, then looked toward the door connecting your bedroom to the bathroom. Without a word, he got up, walking towards the bathroom and simultaneously pulling his shirt over his head. You smiled to yourself as you watched him disappear behind the door, flicking the lights on and letting the soft, yellow glow flood the floor of your room. You listened to him shuffle about, letting out a soft sigh as he unbuckled his belt.

His movements paused.

Your smile grew.

"Y/N?" he called out.

"Yes, babe?"

The door creaked open all the way, and behind it stood Bucky, holding his toothbrush in one hand, with a confused look on his face.

"Why is there a pink bow on my toothbrush?"

It took all your strength not to burst into a fit of giggles immediately as you schooled your face into one of nonchalance, and said, "I told you. I redecorated."

Bucky's bewildered eyes flickered from you, to the toothbrush, then back to you. Then he turned to look at the bathroom. And you saw the exact moment in which he realized there were pink bows everywhere. Big, small, light pink, dark pink, neon pink, cotton, silk, linen. A variety of ribbons tied in bows around everything you could think of: toothbrushes, toothpaste, shampoo bottles, the soap dispenser, the toilet brush, the towel rack, your skincare bottles, his deodorant and cologne.

"Y/N," Bucky said calmly.

"Yes?" you replied, batting your eyelashes innocently.

"Can you please tell me, why, exactly, you decided on redecorating with pink bows everywhere?"

You hummed, then shrugged. "You know, I'm not exactly sure. I just think they make pretty things look so much prettier. I may have gone a bit overboard, though."

"You think?"

You bit back a grin as you watched him shake his head, as if to snap him from his stupor of amusement, and bend over the sink to brush his teeth. You watched him brush his teeth, wash his face, change out of his jeans and into pajama pants. You tracked him as he turned the lights off and sighed, trudging over to the bed, exhaustion creeping into every one of his movements and pulling at him like gravity. You opened your arms wide, lifting the covers as you did so, and Bucky gladly crawled into them, nuzzling his head into your chest and wrapping his arms around your waist and back.

You placed a soft kiss to the crown of his head, and let your arms come loosely around his neck. Bucky said nothing, content to lay in silence and listen to the beat of your heart as it lulled him to sleep.

After a few minutes of you silently running your fingers through his hair, you whispered his name. "Bucky?"

He hummed in answer against your chest.

"You know how I said pink bows make pretty things even prettier?"

You felt, rather than saw, his body pause at the question, and then his head was up and his blue eyes were staring into yours with a puzzled expression. "Yes... why? What's that have to do with anything?"

"Well..."

You paused. All of a sudden, you felt stupid. Bucky's furrowed brows and sleepy eyes urged you to continue.

"I have a pink ribbon under the pillow, actually, and I was... I wanted to..."

"What, honey?"

"Well, I was wondering if I could tie it around your arm."

Bucky paused, blinking up at you slowly, as if he hadn't heard you.

"My arm?"

You nodded.

"Why?"

You shrugged. "Because it's already beautiful, and I want to make it even more so."

He laid there quiet for a moment, and you were about to tell him to forget about it, but then he unwrapped his arms from around you, letting you drop flat onto your back, and shoved a hand beneath your head. Beneath your pillow.

He emerged with a baby pink ribbon in his fingers, the material pliable and soft in his grip, as he handed it to you.

"Go ahead," he said simply.

You gave him a skeptical look. "Really?"

He shrugged with one shoulder. "Why not? Did you think I'd say no?"

You fell quiet, then let out a sigh through your nose, turning over slightly to better reach his arm. His left arm.

You wrapped the ribbon around his bicep, the vibranium cold and unyielding, a stark contrast to the warm pink silk in your fingers. You looped it through, pulling it taut, then let go. You stared at it for a second, then glanced up at Bucky. Leaning in, you pressed a light kiss to the exposed metal right above the bow.

Bucky let out a shuddering breath, then laid down again, this time face to face with you. His fingers traced soft, swirling patterns against the skin of your arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake, and you closed your eyes against the feeling.

"I love you so much," he muttered quietly. "You know that, right?"

You nodded, eyes closed and a smile playing at your lips. "I know. I love you, too. Every part of you."

Bucky loosed a breath that sounded somewhat like a disbelieving breath, and you felt him lean in and press a kiss to your temple.

You fell asleep without even realizing, lulled into dreams by the steady thrum of his heartbeat and his hand stroking your hair.

[mysunshinetemptress]

2010

Leah Williamson x Reader

Warnings: Mean sisters, Mean Leah

Natalie had popped out the shops leaving the older girls in  charge of you who still hadn't moved. Your older sisters had taken this as the perfect opportunity to wind you up, they started by hiding the house phones before watching as you ran around the house in a panic becoming more and more panicked as you searched furiously, your eyes began to fill with tears as you heard the phone ringing trying to navigate where it was coming from. Melia looked at Ellie and Charlotte before peaking around the corner watching as you picked up the phone and sighing in relief "Watch this." you pressed accept before you began talking "Hello." Melia tried not to laugh as she dropped the octave of her voice "Hello is Y/n Sterling there." The three girls tried not to laugh at the excitement in their younger sister "Yes this is she." "Oh excellent well I'm sorry to tell you but we aren't going to accept you to Arsenal." You looked down at the floor disappointed "oh..ehm  why." You felt your bottom lip start to tremble as the voice on the opposite side began to speak "well if I'm being honest you are the worst football player we have ever seen not even Man United would want you and in my professional opinion you should quite playing all together."

Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring the image of your sisters huddled in the doorway, barely containing their laughter. Your voice cracked as you stammered, "But... I practiced really hard. Leah says I'm getting better."

The voice boomed through the phone, "Leah? Leah Williamson! You will never be as good as her"

Tears began to run down your cheeks. Their giggles, though muffled, were a cruel counterpoint to the fake voice booming through the phone. Your voice, small and choked with emotion, came out barely above a whisper, "But... I want to be good like Leah."

Suddenly, the phone clicked and went dead. The fake voice, the disappointment, it was all too much. You slumped to the floor, a sob escaping your lips. The room was silent for a beat, then the sound of the front door opened and you ran out into the garden searching for the only person who could make you feel better.

You tried to stop crying as you knocked on Williamson's front door "Oh Y/n, Jacobs is at training he will be back in an hour." You looked up at Amanda as she shook her head "Is Leah home I need to talk to her." Amanda nodded stepping aside and telling you she was upstairs Amanda watched worriedly as you ran up the stairs bottom lip still trembling. you stopped knocking on Leah's door "What." you let out a breath trying to not cry "It's Y/n can I come in please Leah." Leah huffed "No leave me alone." You shook your head ignoring her "but I really need to talk to you." Leah didn't answer as you began to open the door before being knocked to the ground by the older girl you looked up at Leah "Why can't you just take no for an answer Y/n I don't want to talk to you I don't want to hang out with you your a baby for crying out loud who wants to  be seen with a baby."

You couldn't move not knowing what to say as you tried desperately not to cry again "I...... I." You couldn't form the words as Leah let out a groan "See you can't even talk properly." You tried not to let the tears that had weld up in your eyes fall but you were beginning to get tired of it all "I just wanted to talk to you." Leah let out a huff standing back from the girl and walking back towards her room "I told you I don't want to talk so leave." Leah slammed her door as you began to stand "what is going on up there." you made your way down the stairs head bent in defeat and you began to cry "I'm sorry, I annoyed her." Amanda didn't get a word in before you left out the front door back to your house. Ignoring your older sisters and racing up the stairs.

Your world felt like it had shattered around you. Tears streamed down your face, hot and relentless, even after you'd slammed your bedroom door shut. Leah's cruel words echoed in your mind, each one a fresh blow. "Baby," "annoyed her," "don't want to hang out with you." They were like thorns digging into your heart, twisting with every ragged sob.

You clutched Leah's forgotten Arsenal jersey, the fabric a hollow reminder of the idol you so desperately wanted to be like. It felt like a betrayal, a cruel joke alongside Leah's harsh dismissal. All she'd wanted was a moment of comfort after the crushing disappointment of the phone call.

The memory of Leah shoving you to the ground sent a fresh wave of humiliation crashing over you. You felt small, insignificant, like a nuisance in Leah's life. The rejection stung worse than any scrape you'd ever gotten on the football pitch. Here, the pain wasn't physical, but it was a dull ache that threatened to consume her.

Natalie arrived a little while later looking into the sitting room at her three oldest girls "hi girls." The older lot didn't take there eyes of the tv muttering hellos from where they sat on the couch, Natalie looked around the room "where's Y/n." Charlotte waved off "in her room." Natalie sighed turning to walk up the stairs in order to retrieve her youngest daughter. Stopping outside the room Natalie knocked before entering only to see you wrapped in Leah's Arsenal jersey asleep tears streaks down your cheek, Natalies heart broke at the sight.

Natalie knelt down beside the bed, placing a hand on your shoulder. "Hey, sweetheart," she said softly.

You stirred slightly, mumbling something incoherent before burying your face deeper into the fabric of the jersey.

Natalie sighed, her earlier annoyance with your sisters melting away completely. She gently nudged your shoulder. "Y/n, it's okay to wake up. I'm here."

Slowly, you peeked out from the jersey, your eyes red and puffy. Tears welled up again as you looked at your mom. "I got rejected from the Arsenal academy and Leah was mean," you croaked out, your voice thick with emotion.

Natalie sighed stroking your back "Darling, that phone call it wasn't real."

You blinked, confused. "What do you mean?" you mumbled, sniffling.

Natalie explained how your sisters had tricked you, their laughter echoing in your mind as you pictured the scene. A small, angry puff escaped your lips. You couldn't believe they would do something like that!

Natalie chuckled, wiping away a stray tear. "Those silly girls. They thought it would be funny, but look what they've done."

You snuggled closer to your mom, the anger giving way to a wave of relief. Leah hadn't rejected you, hadn't said those awful things. But then a new worry bloomed in your chest. "But what if I am rubbish? What if I never get good enough?"

Natalie squeezed your shoulder gently. "Sweetheart, you're only nine. You have so much time to learn and improve. And besides," she added with a wink, "Ronaldo wasn't trying out for premier league academy teams at nine was he?."

You shook your head before your eyes began to tear up again.

"But Leah..." you mumbled, clutching the jersey tighter. "She was horrible."

Natalie's smile softened. "Leah... well, Leah is growing up and things are becoming more complicated. That doesn't mean she had the right to be mean to you but she's going through things you can't see and won't know about for a few more years."

You sniffled. "But she doesn't want to be friends with me anymore."

Natalie pulled you into a hug. "Oh, honey, I'm sure that's not true. Leah just gets frustrated sometimes. Maybe you can try talking to her again tomorrow, after she's had some time to cool down."

The thought of facing Leah again made your stomach churn, but you nodded slowly. You just wanted things to be back to normal, the way they were before.

Natalie helped you get cleaned up and changed, then tucked you back into bed. As she kissed your forehead goodnight, she said, "Remember, Y/n, you're a brilliant footballer. And even if you don't make it into the Arsenal academy, there are plenty of other ways to achieve your dreams."

Her words brought a small spark of hope back to your eyes. Maybe she was right. Maybe Leah would apologize tomorrow. And maybe, just maybe, you could still find a way to be a great footballer, just like her.

The next day dawned, but the hope your mom had kindled flickered faintly. You ran next door to the Williamson's as soon as your homework was finished before being let in by Amanda, you approached Leah who was sitting out the back garden, heart hammering in your chest. Leah, surrounded by her group of friends, barely acknowledged you. Your stomach lurched, but you pressed on.

"Leah, can I talk to you?" you mumbled, picking at your school skirt.

Leah scoffed. "About what? You bothering me again?"

Tears pricked your eyes. "No, I... I just wanted to say sorry about yesterday."

"Ugh, seriously? You're still going on about that?" Leah rolled her eyes. Her friends snickered.

Shame burned in your cheeks. "But you were so mean! And the phone call..."

"The what?" Leah looked confused.

You explained about the fake phone call, your voice trembling. Leah's face paled. She whipped around, glaring at her friends who thought it was funny. They laughed hysterically, pretending not to notice.

Suddenly, Leah stood up staring at them, her anger a palpable force. You watched, heart pounding, as she confronted them, "Get out." One of them looked at her confused "What." Leah didn't move "I said get out."

Leah excused herself and her friends walking them to the door.

When Leah returned, her face stormy, she looked at you. "I... I had no idea. I would never say those things to you."

You didn't know what to believe. Relief warred with lingering hurt. "But you were horrible yesterday too."

Leah looked down at her shoes. "I was just... having a bad day. It wasn't about you."

The apology wasn't what you wanted, but it was something. Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance to mend things with Leah.

"Can we still be friends?" you asked hesitantly.

Leah looked at you her heart clenching "I don't ever want to not be your friend Y/n."

You smiled at her happy that she was still your friend before grabbing her hand "Can we practice before you go to training."

Leah smiled "I would love too."

As you passed the ball back and fourth laughing you failed to notice your Mum standing in the kitchen watching you both smiling

"Y/n hunny, five more minutes before you have to get changed, Arsenal under tens train at seven thirty."

You waved her off offering a small ok Mum but Leah stood frozen.

"You got in." you looked up from the ball at the older girl "I got in." you asked confused, before you realised what your mother said "Oh my god Leah I got in." Leah laughed picking you up before spinning you around "Congratulations, I knew you could do it."

For you

@rachdalysworld

[mousedetective]

PAYPAL | AMAZON WISHLIST | KOFI | GOFUNDME

09/06/24 - Updated Post!

IMPORTANT: WE HAVE SECURED NEW HOUSING AND NEED MAJOR HELP!

My mother and I are both overdrawn (my mom by $210, me by $517) with charges on both accounts that are going to be retried in a few days. My large loan payment also defaulted, but my loan company agreed not to do automatic withdrawals on my account so I can put money in when I have it; however, my balance has gone back up to $1890. We need help covering the overdrafts and the loan payments.

The rest of the money will go to pay a mover to help us get stuff out of our larger units. We have another month on the units that a friend paid for but we need to try and clear out all three units we have by October 1st. My mom is worn out so any help I can have with a mover getting stuff out and bringing it up the stairs would be great.

We also need to raise $1300 to get work done on our car; our brakes were failing and we got those fixed but there was a secondary, less important problem that we still need to take care of (pinion axle or something like that) that we need to do $500 down to get the part. So some of the money will go to that, too.

Two urgent needs off our Amazon wishlist we need are the incontinence underwear and the lightbulbs. Our overhead light has no bulbs that work, and my daughter needs three more bulbs in her lamp. The rest will be saved to replace them. If anyone can help get the dresser as well, that would be much appreciated and would help my daughter get more space in her room.

Any reblogs of this post, monetary help or buying things from our Amazon wishlist would be so helpful. We're almost on our feet and hopefully we won't need as much help in the future. Thank you very much for reading, and have a pleasant day!

$12/$5000

[rainbowolfe]

Why Aym and Baal?

They were, according to Shamura, supposed to be Narinder's replacement family/companions. Narinder never really got that memo, but like, what did Shamura expect? Relationships don't work that way. You can't just throw two strangers at someone and have them fill the void of a millennia-long relationship.

But the question of the hour is, why Aym and Baal? I don't think it's because they're cats.

It's implied Narinder had his own family (made up of cats or whatever he is) and chose the Bishops, a goofy assortment of non-mammals over those blood relations. So he's not exactly inclined towards members of his own species. So that doesn't feel like the reason why Shamura chose them. And it doesn't feel like the reason Narinder kept them.

I noticed that this photo from Jalala's journal had to have been of pre-servitude Aym and Baal, cause they're much younger. Baal's hair is shorter, they're both just wearing basic tunics instead of their signature robes, and Forneus isn't wearing her hat. So Aym's always looked a bit scuffed, and it wasn't the result of his time spent with TOWW in the Realm Beyond.

Which means Shamura saw him and went "wow that's literally Kallamar". Scar over one eye? Check. Messed up ears? Check. It would also loosely confirm that the boys were sent after they sealed Narinder, since Kallamar's ears wouldn't be scuffed before then.

It would be really funny if what Aym's looking at is Shamura, and this picture was taken 5 seconds before disaster.

Now, my first instinct was that Baal would be Narinder, and what Shamura hoped to recreate was Narinder's relationship with them and Kallamar. But that doesn't quite make sense. The new "family unit" already has a Narinder, so why would Shamura give him another?

Baal can't be filling Shamura's role for two reasons. One, as the head of the family, Shamura would be more likely to be Forneus (the role they are now placing Narinder in). If not Forneus, then the unseen father presumably taking this picture. Two, Shamura does not believe that Narinder loves them. That's. Kind of why they're doing all of this. So they wouldn't give him a replacement-Shamura either, unless they were feeling really really egotistical.

Which leaves us with two options.

And the correct one is Leshy. Leshy, whose core item is the red camellia. And whose symbol becomes a black heart when he's cleansed.

While we don't get to hear much from Baal, Heket's core traits are that she's a shit-talker and likes to eat. Leshy's core traits are that he's chaotic, but has an appreciation for/focus on the world around him. Smells, sights (when he could see), and sounds.

Baal is actually the politer of the two and, based on his recruitment dialogue ("So much color... so many creatures") he too is the worldly type. Also, Baal thanks Lamb for helping them. Leshy and Narinder are the only Bishops who thank Lamb in the end.

And, you know, if you take the order Shamura lists the family in into account, Leshy and Kallamar are the first and second sons respectively.

...

Of course, this can be taken one step further in another direction :3c I can't just leave Heket out of this.

Although Shamura only gave him Aym and Baal, theoretically what they saw was a four-person family unit that reflected their own... before Narinder entered the picture. I mentioned before that if Shamura isn't a reflection of Forneus, then they're a reflection of the unnamed father. (Who I suspect to be Paean)

Which means they saw Heket in Forneus.

Do you see the vision??

Cause this is a found family, age order doesn't necessarily matter to the familial hierarchy. Even if Shamura wasn't the eldest, they would still be the head (whether matriarch or patriarch) because their role is as the leader of the other three. Heket would be below Shamura, but above Kallamar and Leshy, because she serves as caretaker. She's even the one who takes charge upon Lamb's return, as the matriarch would do if something were to happen to the patriarch.

((Traditionally, while the father is seen as the protector and provider, his purpose is specifically to rule/lead the family. It is the mother whose sole purpose is to protect. Primarily the children, as their (often only) caretaker. But in traditional circles, it's commonly felt that the mother should sacrifice everything for the father as well.))

It would be particularly fitting because a lot of Heket's side of things revolves around sacrifice. How she's burdened by it, and seemingly how much she tried to do to find a better/different outcome. She's characterized as particularly family-inclined.

...

This would suggest that who Narinder valued the most in the family were Leshy and Kallamar. At least, it would suggest that's how Shamura saw it. But I'm liking this line of thought, so let's say their read is accurate.

Shamura saw that Narinder. Could also be Forneus. And Shamura loved Narinder the most, so...

Narinder and Heket's disdain for each other stems from them competing for the same role in their family: The matriarch. Shamura's second in command, and the boys' caretaker.

Not in a "raise them" type of way, at least not in Kallamar's case. But to guide and influence them. To be the one they trust and rely on. Heket has been that. And, intentionally or not, Narinder intrudes on that.

Narinder's the 'other woman' lmao

As a bonus:

Baal is aligned with his father (you get Tears of the Vengeful Father in exchange for him). Aym is aligned with his mother (ditto for Tears of the Merciful Mother).

If Aym = Kallamar; Baal = Leshy; Forneus = Heket; and The Father = Shamura

Then that dynamic is actually reflected in this Tarot Card. It pairs Kallamar with Heket, and Leshy with Shamura. :3

[misspygmypie]

Neighbor Wars: Lando vs. Jake

Part of the "Meet & Greet... and more?" Universe Pairing: Lando Norris x reader Words: 1710 Request: Anon 1: Could you please write something where Land gets jealous like a new neighbor has been spending a lot of time wit reader and Noah. But he moves to a house to get away from it. (Maybe it was time to move and he sort of wants to be petty). Anon 2: I love Noah and Lando but could we please get some more of Lando and reader. Maybe while Lando is away reader calls a handyman to help fix things and he plays with Noah and when Lando gets home he gets jealous at him flirting with his wife and playing with his kids. Masterlist

Please do not repost, thank you, and leave some feedback :)

Lando was in the process of enduring an exhausting triple-header, racing through three back-to-back Grand Prix events across Europe. The schedule had been relentless, leaving him barely any time to check in with his family. When he finally managed to catch up, he was met with something he hadn’t quite expected: a rising wave of jealousy.

Their new neighbor, Jake, had moved into the adjacent unit just before Lando’s racing marathon had begun. From his sparse updates Lando had seen that Y/N and Noah had been spending a lot of time with Jake who, as a single father with an easygoing nature, had quickly become popular with the building’s residents.

One evening Lando scrolled through social media from his hotel room and he came across a post showing Jake, Y/N and Noah having a picnic in the communal garden. Next to them was baby Maebry, the Norris family’s newest addition. Some other pictures showed Jake playing soccer with Noah and even building some Legos. The sight of Y/N and Noah’s happy faces with Jake comfortably nestled among them sparked an unexpected amount of jealousy in Lando. It was as if Jake had become an honorary member of the family while Lando was just a spectator.

He chuckled bitterly to himself. Well, look at that. Jake’s living the dream, playing happy family while I’m here, stuck in a never-ending cycle of jet lag.

When Lando finally returned home he was eager to reunite with his family but his excitement was quickly overshadowed by the sight of Jake helping Y/N with a pile of laundry in the common area. As Lando approached he forced a warm smile that felt more like a grimace. “Hey, Jake,” he said, his voice clearly annoyed. “Good to see you again. Thanks for, uh, doing the laundry.”

Jake looked up with a friendly grin, his demeanor as smooth as ever. “Hey, Lando! No problem, just helping out. Y/N was a bit overwhelmed with the baby’s stuff, so I thought I’d lend a hand.”

Lando nodded, trying to keep his thoughts from spilling out of his mouth. Of course you did. Because who wouldn’t want to be the hero of the laundry room?

One afternoon the sink in the Norris family’s apartment began to leak. Y/N was flustered, juggling baby Maebry and Noah’s endless stream of questions about superheroes. As Lando was in the middle of a several hour long conference call with his team but after a quick call from Y/N Jake showed up at the door with a toolbox and a grin.

“Looks like you’ve got a bit of a plumbing emergency,” Jake said, his eyes sparkling with a mix of confidence and charm. “Don’t worry, I’ve got this. I’m basically a part-time plumber, part-time superhero.”

Y/N looked relieved and grateful. “Thank you, Jake. I was about to call a professional but with everything going on, I didn’t know where to start.”

“Well, if you ever need a plumber who doubles as a handyman and a personal charm specialist, you know where to find me,” Jake winked as he rolled up his sleeves.

Lando, who had heard his neighbors voice and instantly decided to end the call early, watched from the doorway, irritation simmering as he saw Jake confidently take charge. Ah, so now Jake’s the neighborhood hero with a toolbox. Does he have a signature catchphrase too? “Plumbing problems? Jake to the rescue!”

As Jake worked on the sink he chatted with Y/N, occasionally tossing flirtatious comments over his shoulder. “You know, Y/N, I think your sink is as stubborn as I am when it comes to giving up. But don’t worry, I’m pretty good at convincing things to go my way.”

Y/N chuckled, clearly enjoying the banter. “Well, I’m glad you’re so determined. We’d be lost without you.”

Jake looked up with a smile that was anything but casual. “I’d say you’re pretty lucky to have me around. Not just for fixing sinks but for making sure you have someone to brighten your day.”

Lando stood just outside the kitchen, feeling like he was witnessing a live performance of “How to Steal Your Wife 101.” Great, now he’s the king of flirting while unclogging pipes. What’s next? A serenade with a plunger in hand?

Jake finished fixing the sink and looked at Y/N. “All done! If you need anything else, whether it’s a helping hand or just someone to talk to, you know I’m just next door.”

Y/N thanked Jake profusely and he headed out with a casual wave, leaving Lando to confront the situation with a stiff smile.

As days went by, Lando’s jealousy simmered. He noticed how Jake seemed to be everywhere at all times. It felt like Jake had become a permanent fixture in their lives while Lando was relegated to a supporting role.

One evening, after Jake had joined Y/N and Noah for a “family movie night” in the communal lounge, Lando, who had been busy working out, decided to address his frustrations. He plopped down next to Y/N, attempting to sound casual but failing miserably. “So, what did you guys watch tonight?” he asked, his tone teetering between curiosity and annoyance.

“Oh, Jake brought over a bunch of movies. We watched ‘The Incredibles.’ Jake’s kids love it and Noah had a blast.”

Lando forced a smile, his mind racing. Jake’s the movie night savior now too. Next thing you know, he’ll be building a playhouse and teaching Noah how to ride a bike.

Y/N reached out and touched his arm reassuringly, clearly seeing the jealousy in her husband’s eyes. “Lando, you don’t have to worry. It’s just that Jake’s been around a lot because he’s been so helpful. We really appreciate him but you know we miss you a lot.”

Despite Y/N’s reassurances Lando’s jealousy festered. One evening, as Lando returned home from another exhausting day, his frustration peaked and he decided it was time to have a serious talk.

“Y/N, can we talk for a minute?” Lando asked, his voice tight.

Y/N looked up, surprised by the seriousness in his tone. “Sure, what’s up?”

Lando led her to a quieter corner of the apartment so the kids wouldn’t hear them. “It’s about Jake. I’ve noticed that he’s been around a lot lately, helping with everything from the plumbing to entertaining Noah.”

“Yes, he has been very helpful. Why?”

Lando took a deep breath, trying to control his irritation. “I’m not just talking about him being helpful. It seems like he’s also been... flirting with you. I’ve seen him make these comments and it’s starting to really bother me.”

Y/N’s eyes widened and she took a step back. “Flirting? Lando, are you serious? Jake’s just being friendly. He’s not trying to do anything inappropriate.”

“Friendly?” Lando ran a hand through his hair, his frustration spilling over. “He’s practically moving in on our family. I saw him fixing the sink and making those comments. It’s like he’s trying to be more than just a neighbor.”

Y/N’s face softened with concern. “Lando, I appreciate that you’re feeling this way but you need to trust me. We’re friends with him and it doesn’t mean anything more than that.”

Lando’s mind raced as he thought about confronting Jake directly but he didn’t want Y/N to feel like he didn’t trust her. Fine, maybe I have to take a different approach…

Determined to reclaim his place in his family’s life Lando began devising a plan. If they moved to a new house, he reasoned, they could start fresh and put some distance between themselves and Jake’s frequent presence. He dived into real estate listings, focused to find them the perfect house, far away from any neighbors.

This one’s got a huge backyard. Perfect for, I don’t know, playing hide-and-seek without accidentally finding Jake. And look at this one, a home office! Finally, a place to escape from all the well-meaning neighbors.

A few days later Lando broached the topic with Y/N. “You know, I’ve been thinking,” he said, leaning against the kitchen counter like he was about to reveal a major plot twist in a thriller, “maybe it’s time for us to find a new place. Something with a bit more room. What do you think?”

Y/N looked up, her expression a mix of surprise and curiosity. “Really? I thought we were just starting to get settled here.”

“I know,” Lando nodded, attempting to sound casual, “but with Maebry and everything, I think a bigger space might be nice. Plus, it’d give us a chance to get away from the hustle and bustle of apartment living.”

Y/N considered his suggestion, her gaze thoughtful. “Well, I suppose it would be nice to have more room and we’ve talked about wanting a bigger place eventually.”

Lando’s plan was falling into place like a perfectly timed pit stop. He spent the next few weeks visiting houses, each one carefully chosen to seem like the ultimate family paradise. He made every decision appear practical and thoughtful, crafting the narrative that the new house was the best move for their family.

When he finally found the perfect house Lando prepared to break the news to Noah and Y/N with a level of enthusiasm that bordered on theatrical. “Guess what, guys? We’re moving to a new house! It’s going to be amazing, more space for all of us!”

Noah’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Really, Dad? Will it have a big backyard?”

“Absolutely,” Lando said, nodding vigorously. “A huge backyard where you can play all the time.”

“I’m excited about the move, too,” Y/N directed at her husband, “but you know, we’re going to miss Jake. He’s been such a great friend.”

Lando smiled, though his mind was already racing with thoughts of fewer interruptions from their former neighbor. Yes, yes, we will totally miss him!

Lando couldn’t help but chuckle as he imagined Jake’s future antics, perhaps starting a new superhero club in his own apartment. For now, though, Lando was content with the knowledge that in this new house he was firmly back in the driver’s seat of his family’s life.

________

AN: To both Anons, I hope you like it and if not let me know and I can rewrite 😊🫶

Taglist: @eloriis @pacifierbby @landossainz @littlegrapejuice @barcelonaloverf1life @poppyflower-22 @itsjustfranzi @vickykazuya @sltwins