#and i don't have money for that pattern but i think i could figure it out by looking at the pic

[jonny-b-meowborn]

I've been thinking about making myself some crochet furry clothes, like a hat and mittens, and I think I finally have the idea of how to do it

[medicinemane]

One issue I have is there's a whole lot of things where it's like "I'm actually nearly on your side, I'm very sympathetic to this, I just need one or two issues addressed and then I'd be with you on this... you just have to kinda... walk me through how this thing that feels like a kinda big problem isn't a problem"

And pretty much always it's just kinda like "oh, well it's not a problem, so don't worry about it"

...mhh... yeah... but I need some actual proof. I want to trust you, but I need something that actually deals with it, not to just basically be told to have faith... I have no faith, I'm a faithless person

And it's such a shame cause... instead of being able to work along side people I tend to hover off to the side trying to support it in my own small ineffective ways cause... I just have serious issues no one's ever bothered to address

Just sucks, you know?

[kasagia]

Losing your memory

Pairing: Young! Coriolanus Snow x fem!Capitol! reader Summary: He used to be your Coryo. Now he has become the man you don't know. The Plinth heir. The future president of Panem. You pray every day to forget about the sweet boy you fell in love with, on whom you could always count. To forget who he was and lose the memory of the past. Just like he did. Well... not exactly. Unfortunately for you, he still wants to remember you. Inspired by: "Losing your memory" by Ryan Star Word count: 7,2 k ~•♤♤♤•~ Coriolanus Snow's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~

You've been avoiding him ever since you found out he was back in the Capitol.

A month ago, this news would have aroused great joy and ecstasy in you. Your Coryo is back home. He managed to shorten his exile and gain Dr. Gaul's favour again.

But the man who returned from District 12 was not your dear friend or lover. This wasn't your sweet Coryo, with whom you walked hand in hand to school. This wasn't the boy you shared your lunch with. This wasn't a boy who cared about your well-being above his own. This wasn't a boy who joked about snobbish children spoiled by the richest people in Panem with you and Sejanus at the end of the day. (Although he talked with them, trying to keep up good appearances—he used to call that one of the responsibilities of being Snow.)

The man who came back was Coriolanus. The new Plinth heir. The shell of someone you knew. The ruthless, cold pet of the mad creator of the Hunger Games you despised.

Sejanus' death didn't hurt you as much as the transformation of Coriolanus from the person closest to you into someone you barely even recognized. And from the tearful, sad, resentful, and disappointed stories you heard from Tigris, you had an accurate picture of the man who took your Coryo's place.

And you hated him with all your heart.

Especially after what he promised you when you stayed at his apartment for one snowy winter night.

You lay wrapped in the various blankets and quilts Coryo and Tigris could find. It was winter, and they didn't have much money for additional heating, so they mostly walked around the house in several layers and slept under piles of clothes.

You didn't know about that that night.

Tigris lent him her quilt so that he wouldn't have to be ashamed of the poverty his family had fallen into since you were supposed to come to sleepover with him after the argument with your parents.

Cuddling up to your blonde boy, you tried to fall asleep, listening to his heartbeat. You frowned at the sound of it being a little faster than usual.

You lift your head and look at him carefully. His gaze is distant and thoughtful as he lazily draws patterns on your back as he presses you against his chest.

"Coryo?" you whisper, cupping his cheek in your hand tenderly and forcing those blue irises you have loved so much to look at you. "What's wrong, sweetheart?"

He sighs long and presses a kiss on your forehead, the tip of his nose stroking your hair, as he is inhaling your scent. "I just... I just think about the fact that you deserve so much more. My grandma and Tigirs deserve much more than... this." he says with disgusting pointing at the room you were in.

"This..." you say, clasping your hands together and pressing a tender kiss to the back of his hand. "Is more than enough. You are all I need. And one day, when you are President of Panem or any other important figure in the Capitol, none of you will lack anything. This is a temporary state. You are too smart to be anything less than great, Coryo. You know it."

You see him hold back tears. He pushed your head onto his chest to rest his chin on your head. He is not crying. He almost never cries. But you know how close he is to it by the slight quiver in his breathing.

"I know I don't show it often enough... but you mean... everything to me. I can't imagine how I would go through these all without you by my side."

"I love you, Corio. Just promise me you won't forget this. What you went through, what you experienced. Don't forget your struggle. That's something you should never be ashamed of." he tenses at your words but leans in to kiss you passionately and hungrily. Putting all his unexpressed emotions into action and into that kiss that warmed you more than any blanket or radiator could ever.

"I promise. I will never forget how you kept me sane. When you were the only shelter I could go to and the only support that could bear the boundlessness of my troubles and doubts. How you were my only moonlight in the worst of my darknesses." you laugh softly, recognising part of his words.

"Quoting poets will get you nowhere, Coriolanus Snow." you say teasingly, rubbing your nose against him, at which he chuckles, licking his lips.

"Well... I've learned that in some situations, it gets me somewhere. And it's a very cold night tonight, don't you think? I can't let you freeze to death." he says as his hands go under your shirt—actually, his shirt that you stole from his closet.

"Well… I guess there's nothing left for me… but to place myself under your solicitous care." you sigh softly as he pins you underneath him, making sure the cocoon of blankets is still tightly wrapped around the two of you.

"I couldn't have said it better." he whispers and presses his lips against yours, stealing your breath countless times. He pulls away just a little to say against your lips, "You're mine. We belong together. No matter what."

He makes you shiver as you eagerly agree to everything he says. You don't realise how, in the future, you will curse every single intimate, sweet moment you shared with him.

Ironically, you realise how deep he has gotten under your skin the moment he returns to the Capitol, and you have to avoid him, not when he is sent into exile.

It was probably because when he was gone, you were too distraught to bother leaving your room, opening the blinds, or wiping the tears that somehow kept leaking from your eyes to notice how almost every place reminded you of him. If you could, you'd go back in time and tell yourself there's no point in crying over the asshole he's become.

Although maybe you already felt that your Corio was leaving, and it was a way of mourning him?

Anyway, you saw him everywhere. Not Coriolanus. Coryo. He stalked you in the library, the park, the cafe near the academy that you two and Sejanus liked to go to, and of course the Academy itself. Kudos to your parents for not letting him into your house. At least he didn't pollute your room with memories of him.

Involuntarily, you wonder if he also sees you, for example, in every corner of his apartment. Or maybe he renovated it beyond recognition to erase all traces of his past?

You didn't know.

And you didn't want to know.

The information about him that Tigris gave you when you met her at your house when Coriolanus was at the university for classes was sufficient.

Just because it didn't work out with her cousin didn't mean you would abandon your only real friend. And just because things didn't work out with her cousin didn't mean she would stop (more or less subtly) encouraging you to go back to him.

"We talked about you." she says, making adjustments to your dress that she made for your birthday party thrown by your parents. Another one of the unpleasant responsibilities.

"You and your grandma?" you ask, trying to avoid HIM as a topic as much as possible.

"No. Me and Coriolanus." she says, pinning something to your waist—some decorative strip of fabric or something—you're not sure; you're too focused on the window and the bustling city as you are trying to ignore her words. "You know… I think… I think I saw in his eyes… the old Coryo. For a brief moment, but… maybe if you came back to him, he would come back to himself too."

"I'm sorry, Tigris, but I think he went too far on his path to simply go back to who he was. Surely not because of me."

"I understand… I just really miss him." she says it in a soft, broken tone, and your heart breaks at it. You hug her with all your strength, uniting with her pain that you also felt so deeply.

"Me too." you whisper in her ear as she cries into your shoulder.

Tigris was a very strong woman. She always impressed you. You wanted to be as strong as her. But even the toughest had to cry sometimes.

After all, there comes a time when even the snow melts... even if only for a little while.

You held him tightly in your arms as Corio cried into your chest.

His grandmother fell ill. Hard. Without a doctor, she definitely wouldn't be able to get out of this on her own, and they didn't have the money to pay for one, let alone the medicines.

Your boyfriend spent the whole day planning, thinking, and getting any money, but it was not enough even to buy the cheapest antibiotic.

However, you didn't expect that after you found out it all from Tigris and ran to him as fast as you could with the chicken soup prepared by your servants and all your pocket money, he would start crying.

Coriolanus Snow cried like a little baby.

You handed the money and soup to Tigris, who, after feeding up their grandma, quickly ran out with her to the doctor. At that time, you were holding your boyfriend in your arms in the other room, who simply fell apart from his helplessness.

"Shh… it's going to be okay, Coryo. She will live, falsify that stupid hymn and hate me for not being enough for you just as she used to." your attempt to comfort him didn't help. If anything, he only cried more, holding onto you tighter and tighter.

"I should be able to take care of them... I should be the one taking care of you, not the other way around. I'm pathetic and weak. I'm not worthy of being called Snow."

"Hey, my sweet boy, look at me. You are strong. You are the strongest man I know. You are looking after me all the time; you literally give me everything you have, the last piece of your food, to keep me happy, safe, and full when I forget to bring a damn second breakfast from home or don't have time to eat something. You love me, and I love you, and that's how it works. We care about each other. And I have never, ever regretted being with you. Because what we have… is more valuable than anything else in this world. I trust you implicitly, and I will always be by your side. You are not alone with your problems and suffering. Not as long as I am here."

"But for how long will you stay? For how long will you endure with me?" he asks, and after one look at those a little red from crying, beautiful blue iris, you answer without a shadow of hesitation.

"As long as you love me and I can trust you. As long as I breathe. As long as I am in your mind and heart. I am not going anywhere, Coryo. Money can be earned, but what we have... you can't buy it. What I feel for you is more dear to me than any treasure in this world and I will never exchange it for anything else." you promise, stroking his hair tenderly to help him calm down.

You should've then wondered why he doesn't agree with you then. Why doesn't he say that he also feels this way and that he also values you more than money, glory, and honours?

But he blinds you by telling you for the first time that he loves you.

And you cling to him, wiping the tears from his face with your lips and foolishly believing that your love is pure and eternal.

Like a driven snow.

You knew this day would come someday. The day you let your guard down. But you hoped it would take a little longer before you came face-to-face with Coriolanus.

You are completely unprepared for this. You just freeze like a deer in headlights when you see his face at the end of one of the university's corridors as he walks forward, looking for something in his bag. Before you can even think about running away, he looks up, probably feeling watched, and his blue, icy eyes meet yours.

You both stand there transfixed, looking at each other, taking in the changes in your appearance since the last time you saw each other, which was after you broke up with him, when you saw how tenderly he treated Lucy Gray and how comfortable he was around her. And after someone politely informed you that he had kissed her.

"Y/N!" Coriolanus calls out to you and takes a step towards you, but you quickly step back and run through the crowd of people to get away from him. Unfortunately for you, he doesn't give up that easily. He never does. "Y/N! Wait!"

You have no intention of doing so. You run as fast as you can, bumping into several students along the way. You don't even bother apologising; you just run, hoping that Snow will stop being hot on your heels. Which, by the way, was a miserable dream after how fit he was after his training and the time he spent as a peacekeeper.

On the way, you notice a woman's bathroom and immediately run into it. You lock yourself in a cabin, thanking God or whoever is up that you managed to get an empty cabin and hide in it. You hear his quick footsteps and the door opening, followed by the screams of other women in the bathroom. You sigh in relief as you hear him obediently leave the room.

You're not leaving, though. You are not stupid. You know he's waiting at the door for you to come out. You decide to wait here until the end of the break between classes and hope that he will drop the idea of continuing to chase you and talk to you, and he will attend the lecture instead.

As the bathroom begins to empty, you realise that the next lectures must be soon. You stand silently on the toilet seat, listening carefully, waiting for the right moment to emerge from your miserable hiding place.

Just as you are about to reach for the doorknob, the bathroom door opens. You shiver as you hear heavy footsteps echoing off the tiles of the empty bathroom. And you think that you can smell the subtle scent of roses in the air.

"Come on, Y/N. I know you're here. I just want to talk."

Said the snake moments before eating the bird alive.—you think, mentally mocking how gentle he was trying to present himself. As if he could still be your Coryo.

"I have time. I can play hide-and-seek with you, if you want to. After all, you always liked to play this when we were kids. And you always lost."

You roll your eyes, listening carefully to his footsteps. He was opening the first cabin. You were in the middle one—the one a little closer to the door (and him).

"We'll have to talk eventually. You can't avoid me and ignore me, no matter how good you are at it lately. Let's stop this ridiculous, childish behaviour and go talk over coffee and some of your favourite cookies at the cafe near the academy. Just like the good old days. Well, this time all your orders are on me. What do you say?"

You would have snorted if it hadn't immediately revealed your hiding place to him. How dare he invite you to the place where you, he, and Sejanus spent the most time? To the place where your first unofficial date was.

He wanted to manipulate you, to make you believe that your Corio is still there and lives behind the façade of the rich, arrogant asshole he has become. But you knew better. His eyes told you everything you needed to know.

Even without Tigris' help, you realised that he... was a completely different person. He turned into somebody you only used to know in the past.

"Seriously? Still nothing? So you prefer the hard way, then..." he says, opening another cabin. You wait patiently for him to come to yours.

You breathe as quietly as you can, trying not to let him know which cabin you're in. You listen to his slow, measured steps as, with the incredible confidence and calm that is typical of him, he opens each cabin door, moving inexorably towards you.

Your heart quickens, beating madly, when you see his shoes in the whole, under the cabin's door. He reaches for the door handle, and before he can open it, you push the door against him with all your strength.

You hear him curse, taking a few steps back in a daze and holding his nose. You take the opportunity and run to the exit of the bathroom as fast as you can, not looking back.

"Fuck! Y/N! Are you insane?!" he shouts, running after you.

You reach the door just in time and slam it behind you, sprinting out of the university. You get in your car and drive away with your tyres screeching. In the rearview mirror, you see him leaving the building and following your car with a furious glare.

"I can't believe you invited Snow." you huff, fixing your makeup in the mirror. Your father is buttoning his cuffs, and your mother stands next to you, also putting the finishing touches on her appearance. "You hated him when we were together."

"He is an ambitious and clever boy. Plinth did well to make him his heir. You should reconsider whether he really is that bad. This match would have opened many doors for us. Not only among Plinth's allies but also among Dr. Gaul. God knows how she favours this boy. Who knows? Maybe one day he will be president of Panem."

"If so, I will run away abroad." you say it bitterly, putting your lipstick back in your purse and adjusting the necklace around your neck to make yourself look perfect.

"Don't be stupid. Snow wouldn't be so bad for you. Since you are our only child, we must marry you well. Make sure your husband doesn't blow our fortune in a week. And Snow is a thoughtful boy. He wouldn't let you live below the poverty line."

"And he's quite handsome." your mother adds, straightening your father's tie. "Still, he's not a womaniser. I heard he turned down the... special attention of Crane's daughter and a few other Capitol's girls. I guess he's been alone since your breakup."

"Hmm. Great. He wouldn't cheat on me with other snobs in the capital, but he would fuck with whores in the district. The perfect candidate for a husband." you scoff, walking with them to the next room, where the photographers were waiting to take a photo of you together.

“Language, Y/N. You are a lady. Besides, it is not certain whether he and this Lucy Gray actually had something between them. After all, she's a woman from the district.” your mom says this, smiling for the cameras.

The flashes blind you a little, but with your father's and mother's hands on your shoulders, you somehow manage to keep your pose, fake, pretty smile, and opened eyes.

Your father thanks them and leads you out of the room and into the corridor leading to the great hall where the ball was to be held.

"And even if he did, it's good that he had some fun. It will make him appreciate the treasure that you are and see that you are irreplaceable." he says, taking the box out of his pocket. He hands it to you with a warm smile. "Happy birthday, my treasure."

"We've already given her..." your father shushes your mother. You send them a confused look as you open the medium-sized box.

You find a tiara there. A small diamond tiara.

"It will match your dress perfectly." your father says proudly. You nod and walk to the mirror to put it on, despising the object in your hands with all your heart. You may look like a princess, but you've never felt so... disgusted with yourself before.

This feeling intensified even more when, after a toast and receiving wishes from several of your friends and more powerful families, you managed to sneak out to the balcony. Not long after you, all the single, young men of the richest family on the Capitol entered, with Coriolanus among them. They each took a cigarette and started smoking, gossiping about the events of the week…

And their topic of conversation was exactly what you were afraid of when you got that fucking tiara.

"Have you seen this? I bet they're pure diamonds. Old Y/L/N wants to marry her off so much that he's using every trick possible."

"He doesn't need to do much. She is beautiful in her own right. But this character… it's easier to train a dog than such a stubborn cow."

"What Snow? Are you now regretting that the Capitol's Diamond slipped from your hands? I heard she wants nothing to do with you. How unfortunate that it happened at the moment when you started to count in the eyes of the elite, and now you really have any chance of grabbing this precious gem for yourself."

The Capitol's Diamond. You shudder, thinking about the nickname you've been given.

That's what they called you. The sole heiress to your parents' fortune. Diamond of the Capitol, the best match in the city, with a dowry greater than any other woman. Anyone who won your hand was guaranteed to reach the top and success with your family's connections, your charm, beauty, and brain. And these vultures knew it perfectly well.

You were curious how the new Coriolanus would react.

Your Coryo only took advantage of your position in society when he had to. He didn't ask you for money or for you to convince your father to whisper a good word about him here and there. Maybe it was because of his pride; maybe he really didn't care. You have no idea. But Coryo despised that term as much as you did. You wondered if that had changed as well.

"I'm still in the game." he replies evasively, sipping his drink. The others laugh and he frowns in displeasure.

"Sure. Because the way she ran away from you today when you approached her with a gift says exactly that." they mock him. You see him clench his jaw, glaring at them coldly as he considers his next move.

"Enjoy it while you can. Your good mood will end when our cat-and-mouse game is over and the Capitol's Diamond hangs proudly on my shoulder." you huff, shaking your head in disbelief. You come out of hiding, and all the men on the balcony tense up and look at you in surprise.

Especially Coriolanus. Suddenly everyone is staring intently at the garden of your estate, too shy to look at you. Except Snow. He drills a hole into you with his gaze as he thinks of a way to undo what he said.

"Gentlemen." you scoff, walking past them and ignoring Coriolanus' glare. "For your information, I would rather live in one of the districts than marry any of you. Enjoy the party." you add sweetly, walking back to the ballroom.

The party is in full swing. You are talking to Thomas, using a sweet boy in a shameful way—to scare other men away from you. Just as you expected, they started flocking to you like flies to a fire.

So you chose the least spoiled of them. Thomas was nice and funny; you had a good time talking to him, and dancing with him was even better.

He wasn't rich; he wasn't part of the cream of society. You were really starting to enjoy spending time with him. And most importantly... he looked nothing like Coriolanus. He was nice for the eyes, but his dark hair, eyes, and sweet, shy personality made him drastically different from your ex. So he was the perfect break from your dramatic love life. Boring, nice change.

You danced to a waltz with him. He held you gently, close but respectful, not invading your personal space. He was a perfect gentleman. The man of your dreams.

If only Coriolanus' icy eyes weren't focused on both of you like a predator waiting for its prey to stumble, you would be able to enjoy Thomas' company to the fullest.

You are with him at the buffet, sipping drinks, when suddenly the last person you expected to meet here approaches you.

"Mrs. Plinth." you whisper in shock as he stands in front of you.

She looks—probably the way she feels. Nice on the outside and devastated on the inside. The dark circles under her eyes cannot be fully covered by makeup, and the deep black of her dress is a clear reminder of what she is still going through.

You can't imagine the pain he's going through right now. And you wonder why the woman decided to join her husband for your birthday party. Since Sejanus' death, she has rarely left their apartment.

"Y/N. Can I steal you from this young man for a moment?"

"Of course." you say, not even looking in Thomas' direction as you and Mrs. Plinth walk to one of the empty living rooms in your mansion. You close the door behind her and point to the couch. "Can I get you something to drink? Or to eat?"

"No. There is no need, darling. I just… I just came here to give you something." she says, pulling a thick letter out of her purse. "I… the letters from Sejanus are still reaching us. The flow of information between the districts and the Capitol is… very heavy and long. Especially when the peacekeepers are now checking every one of his correspondence. He sent it to you. Or rather, he wanted you to send it to him. Or rather, he wanted you to have it, just in case he couldn't… I'm sorry."

Your heart aches with sadness, seeing her on the verge of tears. She probably has no one to talk to about her son except her husband. After all, Sejanus was a traitor of Panem…

"He was a wonderful friend. The best one somebody could have. I could always count on him. Thank you for... taking the trouble to give me a letter from him. That... means a lot." you say, fighting the urge to hug the woman. The Capitol is not famous for acts of tenderness, mercy, or compassion. You had to keep up a facade. Always.

You take the letter from her and walk her to the exit. You give her one sympathetic look—everything you could afford in your position—and close the door behind her.

You sit on the couch and open the letter with trembling hands, trying not to look too closely at the way he wrote your name on the envelope. You know that will remind you of how you taught him how to decorate letters in his first days at the Capitol. Because everything here had to be perfectly beautiful. Even the fucking handwriting.

A bracelet falls out of the envelope and onto your lap. It is not particularly beautiful or sumptuous. It is a simple strap holding a peg-shaped pendant with some black, crushed stone placed behind a piece of glass.

You place it on the coffee table and open the letter with trembling hands. You already feel that after all this you will have to fix your makeup, which you will probably ruin with tears, but Sej's letter cannot wait until the end of the party.

Y/N, If you are somehow reading this letter, it means that I am not at your 20th birthday party, which makes me very sad. (You know how I love celebrating in your garden away from these Capitol's snobs.) Coming back, you know that I wish you all the best (along with Coryo. He's too big of a stick up his ass to write to you, even though he misses you and can't stop thinking about you. Take pity on me and write to this stubborn idiot, because I don't think I can stand another tirade about you and your perfection. Seriously. Our boy is getting mad because of this despair. I don't recognise him at all.) So, my dear friend, I wish you the best. I don't have any trinkets, interesting books, sweets, or anything suitable as a gift here, so I hope you'll be satisfied with what I came up with. I am not a poet, so don't laugh at me. I shall hear... or not. I made the bracelet, which you've probably already seen, myself. And that stone that is inside (and I hope it survived) is coal. I wanted to give this to you as a symbol of who you are to me. Everyone sees you as a diamond, something precious and beautiful. But for me and probably other people close to you, you are something more. This shiny diamond facade hides carbon. A simple coal, an ordinary soul like many others. But you made something more out of that ordinary coal. You are a diamond. Indestructible, the most durable of all. The purest form, preserved among the other gems and stones of the Capitol, because that's what all these power-hungry assholes are—coals that have decided not to change, to choose what is easy for them. I hope now you can see why I liked that nickname for you, diamond. So I hope you always stay true to yourself. No matter what. That's what I learned here, and I want to pass it on to you. Although I hope that by then the three of us will meet again in the Capitol. Do not wait for us both, Sejanus P.S. I miss you too.

You fold the letter and put it back in the envelope. You wipe away the tears that remain on your cheeks with your hands and take a few ragged breaths, trying to calm down.

You freeze when suddenly someone's arms wrap around you. The scent of roses hits your nostrils.

You get up from the couch like you've been burned and push Coriolanus' arms away from you. The feeling of sadness quickly turns to anger and pure fury as you stare at Snow.

"What the hell are you doing here?" you growl through a clenched jaw, extremely glad that there's a couch between you, or you'd hit him. And it was easier for you to explain your tears and smeared makeup than your red knuckles.

"Sweet, kind Plinth, giving you thoughtful gifts from beyond the grave. You love the dead Sejanus so much and ignore the living me. It must be hypocrisy on your part, don't you think? You accuse me of forgetting about Sejanus when you treat me so shamefully, worse than a dog. Should I die so that you can finally stop giving me the silent treatment and running away from me?"

"Believe me, you don't want to hear what I have to say to you." you huff, taking the bracelet and the letter. You hide them in the bodice of your dress and go to the mirror to fix your smudged makeup.

"You do not have to do that. Your boy isn't at the party anymore anyway." he says, standing so that you can see his reflection in the mirror.

"What?" you ask in surprise, turning to face him. You both stare at each other. In fact, you're only now getting a chance to take a good look at him. And you notice with dissatisfaction that the bastard found out from Tigris what your dress would look like, and he chose a suite so that both of you would match. "Where is Thomas?"

"Your little boy toy? Do you think he's enough of a distraction? That he can replace me? That he'll make you feel what I feel? Maby, that he can even protect you from me? Only I know you. I'm the only one worthy of your fucking attention and affection." you push past him, but he grabs your elbow.

"Touch me again and I'll cut off your hand and shove it down your throat." you growl, breaking away from his grip.

"Such aggression… I don't remember you from this side." he mocks you and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. You step away from him and cross your arms, staring at him defiantly.

"I will ask you one last time. Where is Thomas?"

"Let's just say that your mother and I caught him stealing your jewelry. We were merciful enough to solve the matter quietly. You will never see that garbage on the ball or any gala again. Certainly not on yours."

"Were you the one who framed him for this?" his silence and the calculating, self-proud look of the cat that caught the canary (or, in this case, the snake that choked the mouse) tell you everything. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!" you ask furiously.

You want to move past him, but he pushes you back, making you bump into the wall. He closes the gap between you in one step, pressing his chest against yours.

"You're mine. You've always been. You shouldn't lead this loser on or give him false hopes. We both know we will end up together."

"I broke up with you." you remind him, not caring about his intimidating attitude.

"A mistake I intend to fix." he says, leaning towards you.

His nose brushes against yours, and you shiver. You lift your leg, trying to kick him in the groyne, but out of the corner of his eye, he sees your sudden movement and grabs your thigh in a tight grip. If it weren't for the thick layers of material, he would probably leave bruises.

"You... you have nothing to fix. There is no longer us. I don't even know you anymore, Coriolanus."

"Don't." he growls at you angrily. You can see the desperation and madness in his eyes at the fact that you're using his name and that you wrote off your relationship. "It was always you. You were always mine, Y/N, and I was always your Coryo."

"Things are changing quickly. We are not the same, and now we have nothing in common, nothing to talk about."

"We have EVRYTHING to talk about. I still love.."

"DON'T!" you interrupt him. He freezes. You rarely shout, especially at him. That's why he takes a step back before putting on his impassive mask again. "Don't even say that. You have no idea what love is. Sure, you may feel attached and even desire me at some point, but you have no idea of unconditional, true love. So for old time's sake, leave me alone."

"What about you? Do you think you are so holy and blameless? That I'm the only bad guy? You lied to me. You promised you would stay with me, no matter what."

"I promised it to my Coryo. Not to you, Coriolanus. My Coryo died in District 12 with Sejanus—maybe even in the Hunger Games—when you let Dr. Gaul brainwash you in the name of fame, money, and position. You think that old hag didn't tell me why Sejanus is dead? That I don't know that your songbird has disappeared? That I would believe that Highbottom just got high or drank himself to death?" he clenches his jaw and fists at your words. You can see how furious he is, but he holds back, still controlling himself.

"Everything I did, I did for us. For you. For Tigris and Grandma." you laugh, wondering who he's trying to fool—himself, you, or both of you at the same time.

"No. You're doing it for yourself. Only for yourself, Coriolanus." he gets even more angry and pins you to the wall again. His cool blue eyes are raging with rage, and you try hard to push away the feeling of fear he has stirred in you.

"Do you want a reason to hate me? So you and Tigris can still gossip about my madness? Then maybe I should let this old man pursue her and sell her as a wife to one of them for good money."

"KEEP HER OUT OF IT! It's Tigris, Coriolanus! Tigris! The woman whose sacrifice you owe your entire fucking life to! A woman who went out of her way to give your ungrateful, selfish ass something to wear. Who sacrificed the love of her life in the name of maintaining the façade of Snow's wealth?! You can give a damn about me, Sejan, and even that little songbird of yours, but if you fucking ruin the life of your cousin—the only goddamn person who still cares about you—I promise you, in memory of OUR dead friend, that there won't be a fucking hole where you could hide from me."

You stare daggers at each other, both openly expressing your resentment towards the other. You have no idea why he still cares about you—is it because of your money, position, or some sick fantasy he has in his head, or maybe he actually still cares about you?

You don't think about it when a more important issue arises.

Suddenly, he grabs your face in both hands and pulls you towards him, greedily kissing you as he connects your lips after a very long time of separation. He caresses your lips with his and kisses you with such fervour as if he craves you like a hermit starving for water.

And for a moment, you feel like you were with Coryo, when all that mattered to you was the other one, when you could get lost in each other, forgetting about the rest of the world and the worries that were waiting for you.

And that's exactly what he's doing now. He makes you forget about anything but him.

You can't help but moan into his mouth as he presses his body against yours. When he releases his strong grip on your cheeks to grab you around your waist and press you against his body, his leg is between yours.

He kisses you more hungrily, groaning too at the familiar warmth of your body against him and the feeling of your soft, silky skin pressing against him. The scent of your perfume mixes, creating a perfect combination of roses and your favourite flowers. Your hands automatically go to his hair as you hold on to him and press him to you. You don't like the gel on your hands from his hair, but you ignore this new, irritating feeling by biting his lip.

You don't think at all. As well as Coriolanus. You both just kiss each other, your tongues joining, as you both let your desire for one another take control of the situation.

You only come to your senses when your lips break apart. You gasp, trying to breathe again, as he fucks your exposed collarbones with kisses. Your brain comes back to you as he leaves a hickey on your neck. He bites you, making you moan so needily that a wave of shame washes over you with his tongue, soothing the bite. You push him away from you and place your hand on your chest, trying to regain control over yourself.

"See? We belong together. There is no other way, Y/N. We are all we need."

"Bullshit." you gasp, trying to ignore the possessive, smug feeling blooming in your chest when you see his messy hair and your lipstick smeared on his lips. "Since you are that good in losing your memory, then forget about me too."

"I can't. I just can't. You think I haven't tried? That you don't haunt me every damn step I take? Everything I have and everything I know is saturated with you. With the memory of both of us. I forgot about what I had with that songbird and my friendship with Sejanus, but I simply CAN'T forget about you. I haven't spent a single damn day without thinking about you. NOT EVEN ONE. And I know you felt the same way. Do you know why I didn't kill that stupid boy who was clinging to you? Because I knew it would make you hate me even more. I was alone without you at 12, and you know how it ended. You are my conscience. Without you... there's nothing holding me back. Without you, there is nothing to distinguish me from the Hunger Games tributes. I have no borders, mercy, compassion, or anything that makes people human beings. And Gaul knows it. That's why she told you all of my crimes; that's why you're paranoid now that I'm someone completely different. But it's still me. I. Am. Still. Your. Coryo." he says it firmly, taking a step closer to you with each word.

"Don't turn me into a fucking cricket for your Pinocchio. I am not, and I do not want to be your conscience. I will not take part in your lies, games, and manipulations." you say as you both stare at each other, neither of you wanting to concede to the other in any way.

"I will have you. One way or another, but I will. Even if it is the last thing I do, I will have you by my side. Just where you always belonged. I promised you to be my First Lady. And I intend to keep that promise."

"You must become president first. And believe me, I will do everything in my power to prevent that from happening. Maybe you can't forget about me. But I can. I do not need you. I never needed you. How ironic to be able to lose the memories of everyone except the girl who will be the end of you, isn't it, CORIOLANUS?" you mock him, a smirk on your lips, making him a promise.

You walk past him, and this time he lets you go, knowing full well that he won't do anything more with you today. At least he got his kiss and a little taste of you, a reminder of the reward that awaits him when everything finally falls into place. When he finally has you in his arms and is at the top of Panem—his rightful place.

"The game has just begun!" he shouts after you, staring at you as you head towards the bathroom to touch up your ruined makeup. It gives you satisfaction to think that this bastard will probably have to clean himself up after your little make-out session, too.

You think that maybe Gaul was right about the Hunger Games being the whole world. But the reality was that there could only be ONE winner.

And among the people of the Capitol, only you and Coriolanus had a real chance of winning. It has always been like that. And even lost memories that do not want to go away so easily are proof of this.

Part 2

[goldenstring6123]

Hi !!! How r u pooks :3

Ignore this if u haven't played dti but what do you think the L&DS boys' reactions would be to their s/o playing dress to impress and actually raging at it like verbally LMFAO this game seriously has me TWEAKING bro but I can't stop playing it gigi please free my family 💔 (hcs plz)

Thanks for reading O_o

Lnds: Dress to impress chaos

Warning: no warning! GN!READER, crack-fic (?)

Author's notes: DTI has me on a chokehold as well pookie.

Zayne:

Surprisingly, Zayne knows about this because of the children in the pediatric ward. A good number of kids have their tablets with them and play the game; to him, it looked like some regular dress-up game. He didn't think much of it and just warned the children to lessen their screen time.

When he arrived home and was taking his shoes off in the foyer, he could hear you complaining about something. The only coherent sentence he heard was, "The theme is Y-THREE-K, NOT Y-TWO-K!" He wondered what you were talking about and who you were mad at, but when he saw you huddled around the coffee table, fashion magazines sprawled all over, and another gadget displaying fashion catalogs, he knew what was up.

"What are you getting so worked up about?" he asked, sitting next to you and placing down a cup of tea after changing into his clothes. He could see that there were figures walking down the runway.

"I don't get how those ugly layering players win first place!"

He was confused by what you meant. The outfits were suitable, donning the familiar attire of the staff at the hospital, particularly scrubs and white skirts that were too short for the protocol. "What's the theme?"

"A doctor or a nurse," you replied. As the screen turned briefly black, Zayne waited in anticipation. The scene changed, and on the podium was a mermaid with neon green wings and a god-awful dress.

You threw your hands up in frustration and wept on his knees. Zayne was dumbfounded. "I hate this game!" he heard your muffled cries on his knees. He patted your head.

He got used to seeing you so engrossed in the game, but he would never get used to your mood swings: one moment, you're insulting children, and the next moment, you're giggling because you won 1st place.

Zayne bought you a VIP pass because he loved seeing your reaction every time, although he isn't really a fan of spending money on in-game currency. But he loves you too much, so he just keeps that thought to himself.

After seeing you play, he watches the kids play as well, occasionally commenting on their choice of clothing. The nurses were pretty confused by his comments because Zayne never really commented on any outfits, much less in a game.

Xavier:

Xavier knows about the game and has tried it once, not getting the premise of it at first. He didn't know how to change patterns or delete the clothes he was wearing, so his first catwalk was a bit of a mess. But here's the thing: Xavier won first place, which made him more confused. He screenshot himself on the podium and sent it to you.

When you got home from work, excited to play with him, he was pouting while looking at his phone. You wondered why and saw that another player was walking around in the same exact fit as your partner's character. Xavier said that he kept on trying to change his outfit, but that one person kept doing the same thing. You decided to give that player a piece of your mind on behalf of your boyfriend.

When you're at work, Xavier will send you links to fashion hacks he sees on social media. "This looks cute; let's try it later," and he's more updated when Gigi is working on something. The codes—Xavier knows the codes by heart. He knows them more than he knows the date of your birth.

It was thanks to this game that he likes to go shopping with you to get some inspiration. Surprisingly, he can make a coherent outfit with the ones he sees in the malls.

When you both play together, he likes playing duo, and even if your outfits are unfinished or bad, he gives you 5 stars. But for the rest of the players, he forgets to vote more than half of the time—you don't know if it's on purpose or really by accident.

He would occasionally laugh when players fight against one another, especially if you were involved.

He once bought himself the VIP pass, but his outfits still looked too generic for your liking, but you didn't have the heart to complain. Xavier once lost a bet, and now he has to buy you the pass as well.

He once used his work account to comment on some suggestions on Gigi's Twitter, and kids were confused as to why a hunter was commenting on a kids' game. He deleted it soon after, but he amassed a few hundred followers.

Sylus:

He felt nothing about the game at first and thought of it as nothing more than your form of entertainment. It keeps you busy and out of harm's way, but he never once thought that it would cause a rift in your relationship (he's exaggerating).

Sylus would grow annoyed at how you weren't picking up his calls when you were clearly at home, so he sent Mephisto. The little snitch took a picture of you being so engrossed in your game and sent it back to his boss. Sylus was half disgruntled and 100% dumbfounded when he found out—he was laughing, but he was annoyed. Luke and Kieran were utterly confused.

At midnight, while you worked your way to being a fashion maven, you didn't notice your man sneaking in through the window. Just as you were about to hit pose 11, Sylus yanked your feet and stole your tablet from you.

"No! Give that back!"

"You're not answering my calls because of…this?" He turned to the tablet, which displayed another player's half-decent outfit for the theme "star."

"What calls?" you turned to your phone. '18 missed calls' and your heart sunk to the floor. Shyly, you turned to him, scratching your head. "Oops?"

He sat down on the edge of your bed. "Why are you so engrossed in a dressing game? Why not dress yourself with all the clothes I gave you?" He nudged to the mountain of paper bags in the corner of your room—branded ones, too.

"Because it's fun?" You took the tablet from him and showed him on screen how your outfit won first place. "See? I like winning—one more round, and let's go on a night ride."

He paused, patiently waiting for a minute while you scrolled around the game lobby. He came to a decision. "No. Screen time is over. You've neglected me for far too long." He yanked the tablet away from you using his evol, then pinned you down to the bed, burying his nose in between your breasts.

Although Sylus claims he's not interested in playing the game with you, he did, in fact, join the game secretly to spy on you. He was mildly infuriated with the little amount of selection of menswear and the ridiculous look on the men's faces, so he still really doesn't understand the hype, but he'll be generous enough to give you a three or four-star once in a while.

Once, he joined your server, and the theme was the bad guy. You dressed up as a white-haired, red-eyed man with over-chiseled cheekbones. A moment later, Sylus bombarded you with a screenshot of the game. "I do not look like that. Delete it."

As much as he says he doesn't like the game, Gigi made an update and added some dark reddish aura in-game, as well as a crow perched on the hand of the model. The bird looked awfully close to Mephisto. You confronted Sylus about this, and he denied having any involvement in it.

Whenever you sleep in Sylus' home, he would wake up to the goddamn beat of the game at 3 am, and out of frustration, he would use his EVOL to get the device away from you and place it on the highest shelf in the room. Then he'd hold you down.

Rafayel:

Rafayel introduced you to the game, but after a few times of playing it, it didn't take long for him to get banned for cyberbullying—he wasn't bullying, actually; he was just stating facts, and the other players couldn't take it, and so they reported him. He fights anyone, and he comments a lot in the game, earning him the title of a "yapper."

"You guys don't have taste. How did that thing win first place?" That thing refers to a pretty decent outfit but doesn't match the theme.

"You don't look good either, hun," said the person in first place.

"You don't get to say that when your hair looks like puke, darling." He rage-chattered, saying everything he was typing out loud.

You were cackling beside your boyfriend, witnessing him rage while you were just perched on top of the 3rd place, happy you even got to go up there against all the fashionistas.

"Kids really have the gall to compete and insult adults with taste."

"Raf, you do understand that they're adults as well, right?"

"No, they're not. They're children. This is a kids' game."

You stared at him intently. He stared back, thinking.

"Then I don't need to hold back from insulting them." he placed his hand on the keyboard.

Rafayel's fits are absolutely top-tier. He always wins first place. The layering, the color combination, the form, and the aesthetic are all on point and top-tier. He doesn't reference, and the only time he does is when the theme requires it.

This man doesn't do duos with you because he wants the podium to himself. He once did a duo with you, and it broke his winning streak. You had a small argument about it, but you just gave in, eager to make him lose. Newsflash: You failed miserably.

He secretly joins a farming server every once in a while. Rafayel unknowingly joined the same server as you, and when you asked about it, he denied it, saying only people with bad tastes need to farm for stars. You sent him a screenshot. He didn't talk to you for a day.

He files a lot of complaints and goes on Twitter about how buggy the game is and how bad the texture is. He didn't know that his graphics were on low.

Rafayel is very active in the community and contributes to it during his free time. He uses an alternate account to post suggestions when Gigi opens a post about it. A lot of people actually agree with Rafayel's complaints and suggestions.

Rafayel once freaked out when he accidentally went inside the meat room and told you about it, but when he showed you, it was already catwalk time. You pretended you didn't believe him and tried to pretend to listen when he was searching for that passable wall. You laughed at him and brushed him off, pretending that you didn't believe him.

This began the downward spiral to Lana's lore. He kept on sending you reels about it—and speculations and theories. He even once invited you to that scary horror game, but he quit because it was too creepy and full of 'negative energy.'

Author footnotes: If I'm taking a break while writing, I would be playing dress to impress and I would be fighting children (i'm not joking, I once made a player and her friends leave the server)

Layout by me, using Canva premium | Do not repost |

[celestial-sphere-press]

what kind/style of endbands do you usually do? they look so good 👀

hi!! sorry for taking a while to answer, I wanted to make sure I could give you my best answer.

I usually do what's called a "double core" endband. I use double core endbands over the "bead on front" method because bead on front style is not great for uneven distributions of color, irregular patterns, or using more than three colors. Functionally it works by having your extra threads wrapped up inside the thread that is showing, forming the smaller secondary core. Ultimately you are doing figure 8s around the main core & then your secondary core of thread. This keeps things pretty neat & tidy. The tutorial I first used was this one by DAS Bookbinding, though I don't think his endband tutorials are his best ones. Another binder I've spoken with endbands about a lot is maleeka, who recently did an endband tutorial herself.

maybe I should do one... but it takes a lot for me to get enough motivation to make videos. I'll take this opportunity to write up some tips I've shared when people ask instead:

1. Endband core material is the MOST IMPORTANT component. You need a core that is stiff but flexible - it should NOT be floppy because it wiggles everywhere under the tension of the thread, but still needs to flex with the opening & closing of the book. You want something that doesn't compress, to reduce tension shifts in thread creating a lumpy endband. Have a smooth core is less critical but helps to avoid snagging threads & allows you some leeway on sliding threads around for adjustments. My personal choice is smooth leather jewelers cord (link is just an example, I get mine from a local craft store).

2. Thread size. All your threads need to be the same size; it will be visible if you are using two different sizes, and mess with your front core. Additionally, I know lots of people will use larger twists of multiple strands of embroidery thread, which can work, but is more likely to compress & alter its size in unexpected ways. A single strand is preferable. If you want something thicker you can find some thread weights that are heavier twists intended to be used in a single strand, not pulled apart. I prefer smaller sizes because it works better for the gradient designs I like.

3. Silk thread is your friend (if you can spend the money on it). It reduces fuzz (no fuzz like you get with cotton/DMC embroidery thread), it's usually easier to manage, has a more compact twist, and a higher shine. I use Japanese silk hand sewing thread in size #9 (9号). There's multiple brands (Tire, Daruma, KNK/kanagawa, etc). Here's a wholesale listing (minimum 20,000¥ for international). A non-Japanese brand is Guterman silk (German brand). Both the Japanese & German threads come in a heavier weight (Japanese is #16, Guterman is buttonhole).

4. Thread tension is the most important part of the actual technique. You need to ensure the threads currently wrapped in the secondary core keep tension when you are working the thread around them.

5. Working on a curve. This is only really relevant if you're doing an endband on a rounded book, but the circumference of the curve means there's more real estate on the outside vs inside of the curve. Sometimes this can cause bunching on the secondary core. My own solution to this is that sometimes I wrap the primary core but drop a wrap here or there around the secondary core (only between two wraps of the same color I'm dropping). I uh... don't know of anyone currently recommending this besides myself so I can't point to any pro endorsement for this method, it's just what works for me. Forgive my terrible writing:

6. Pattern management. I... don't really plan much how my patterns sit on the spine, which is not very helpful. HOWEVER you can do some pattern management on the fly, if you really want your pattern to end at a certain place. Thread can be packed more or less densely on the core, resulting in some pattern compression; you could also strategically drop wraps in less noticeable locations. An unintended example: I was replicating the pattern on this endband (left) when I realize I wasn't packing the thread as densely as I had the first time around (right), which resulted in the overall pattern taking up more space. You can do this on purpose, if you need to.

this was way more than you asked but it gave me a chance to put all this in one spot. Best of luck in vanquishing the dreaded EndWyrms.

[saliosis]

happy halloweeen!! here's my take on a "core refresh" pack (part 6)

1, 2, 3, 4, 5 + more under cut

frankie's fashion is very experimental. they like to explore themselves through what they wear since they're just learning things about the world. to symbolize their personality, they have a "quirky" style of fashion. mostly mismatched, mostly all over the place. there's not really a category for frankie's style... not that i can think of. they like to wear anything, honestly. dresses, suits, overalls, shirts, shorts, boots, heels. they're trying to figure out their style, so sometimes they'll incorporate some more colors. they like black and white, but they add teal in. yellow is another color added.

they don't wear real/natural silver because they've learned that this can harm their fellow monsters. any silver accessories they have is fake (painted grey, because that's a way to work around it)

they experiment with piercings

this was in my og design, but they have a huge patch over their left eye. it's plaid, so sometimes they try their best to match their outfits well enough for them to look aesthetically pleasing

likes patterns. stripes, plaid, etc. etc.

clawdeen's fashion is furry and bold. again, this is the fashionista of the school. she is the queen of fashion. again, she likes fur and animal print. whatever she chooses to wear is what usually sets the trends and expectations for those at monster high. she loves to explore herself though. i'd say her style evolves, but these are the main ideas of her fashion. she loves purple, but she also loves green. maybe has a french fashion inspiration? i don't really know how to label it. it's sort of mcbling, but also the style you'd expect of a very cunty aunt who likes shopping. she likes pants best, ngl. jeans are great. skirts are fine by her, she just loves pants.

i like the idea of clawdeen constantly changing up her style. yes, she can also wear something like her g3 outfits. much more coordinated. what i've displayed is the style that takes up most of her closet, tho

she wears glasses, but she has different pairs for each outfit

green is a color she loves so much but doesn't make use of it enough

the wolf family has a little emblem thing i've snuck onto each. it's a golden circle pendant with a small moon on the inside, two little bars holding up the design so it floats. it could also look like a money symbol... idk like coins. it's good luck. mostly for money manifesting and all. she runs with the gold and goes crazy. only gold, no bronze accessories. ever.

on days of the full moon, she will wear super loose clothing. the moon cycles could also impact her fashion choices.

draculaura's fashion is very iconic. a sort of gothy, classic, and romantic sort of look. i'd say she likes to take a spin on victorian styles and make them modern... while also mashing together those 2010s pink/black skull prints and tees that we all know and love. i really like the idea of her in a long dress that hits the floor. i would say she's romantic goth. she likes frills, long ball gowns, lace, and hats that can cover her from the sun whenever she has to travel outside in the daytime. lots of slip dresses if she wants to be more casual. elegance, but done cutely.

the silhouette of an outfit is what matters most to her when it comes to fashion

if she wears a skirt, she wears a big petticoat underneath. a very big petticoat

her parasol can be used interchangeably with a large hat. she always wants either or to match her outfit. and they are always kind of extra

her "victorian" style is a sort of nod to her immortality. she probably likes that fashion period best and likes to try and honor that

i like the idea of her experimenting with her hair. it was a g3 idea, kinda. but bangs, streaks, half and half, etc. i like to imagine draculaura being into the big goth hair

cleo's style is very similar to her g1 style. gold. blues. elegant, fresh, modern, and incredibly easy on the eyes. obviously, she loves to flaunt her designer clothing around school. and since she is so popular, it's expected for her to serve look after look. you will never ever see her look bad. every cleo portrayal i've seen never has enough mummy wrap. she needs it to survive and yet, she only has like, one or two bands on her arms. my cleo's fashion is all about wrap-themed clothing. she has lots of wraps. sometimes she comes up with ways to mix that or even show off her monster trait and heritage. she loves see-through, glittery material too, obviously paired on top of something. but it's glamourous. it's rich. it's sometimes a little 90s inspired, but mostly fresh.

this cleo loves pants. loose pants work, i suppose. but she likes them baggy. one of the best examples of what she likes to wear for pants would be those baggy pyramid-textued pants i designed for her once

gets custom made jewelry (braclets, earrings, etc) that spell out her name in hieroglyphics

likes shorter skirts, but secretly admires longer skirts ten times more

blue lover. any shade. try her. she will obviously mix around her makeup, nails, and hair to work around whatever blue she's feeling

loves gems. lots of gems. real ones, obviously.

doesn't like socks very much. she can literally just do the same thing socks do for feet with mummy wrap. same with stockings

[egirlkelly69]

ᵍᵃᵐᵉ ᵒᵛᵉʳ [shigaraki x fem¡reader] -> wattpad

¹~ˢᵗᵃˡᵏᵉʳ

They were watching him again. He could feel the looming presence of eyes focused on his lanky figure. This was only the 3rd time this week he had noticed eyes, but he had experienced it countless times for at least three months, yet was once again unable to catch onto this stalker.

Part of him was worried it was a hero catching onto him but so far he hadn't shown his face as all for one's successor so the chances of that was practically zero.

Shigaraki had been out for ten minutes, only walking along to the nearest corner shop for some ramen and it seemed as if the cashier was the only person out for at least a few blocks. The streets were empty and it was pitch black.

It was the same every time, no one around yet someone there, just hidden.

He was starting to think they had an invisibility quirk.

The door chimed as he pushed his way inside the brightly lit store, immediately heading towards the same products he always bought as if it was muscle memory. A stack of pot noodles, a few cans of energy drinks and a couple little sweet treats.

He quickly made his way to the front, only paying to lessen the publicity on his trail. He couldn't risk getting caught over petty crime and a few yen, not when he was settling down to plan his next moves with the league.

After chucking the notes and coins down on the counter top and placing the goods in the thin, crumpled plastic bag, he swiftly turned to leave, bumping into someone behind him.

Normally he would kill anyone who wronged him, but again to lessen the publicity of his existence he just snapped out a dry, "watch it."

"Oh shit- sorry," she replied, instinctively throwing her hands up in front of her chest in apology, allowing her hood to ride up, exposing her messy fringe

Not that he could really comment on others appearances when he barely took any care of his own but she was a mess.

"Whatever," he continued his exit, but was caught of guard by her conversation with the cashier.

"Please, I need this food,"she pleaded, leaning over the small mound of goods placed on the counter.

"There's nothing I can do miss, if you don't have the money I can't sell it to you, sorry"

"I can pay in a different way, my quirk can heal any injuries you have, please I'm begging you I need to eat."

Healing quirk huh? That's interesting.

"Sorry it's not worth losing my job over,"

Without thinking shigaraki turned and walked back up to the girl, standing over her, before slamming one of the notes from his pocket down onto the counter.

"here." He said dryly, scratching at his neck.

She spun around to look at him, "thank you,"

she's too close

He took a step back, but not before getting a glance at her face.

Her hair was in fact a mess and needed a brush, but she had a layer of mascara and black eyeshadow coating her eyes (a bit of which had smudged down her cheek), and glitter in the inner corner. The makeup didn't match her outfit which consisted of a black hoodie, patterned fluffy pyjama pants and crocks.

She smelt nice too

He didn't want to continue the conversation, not even knowing why he started it in the first place. Who was he helping people when he was supposed to be on the path to becoming the most feared and powerful villain.

Shigaraki turned to walk away as she packed the items he had paid for into the same flimsy plastic bag he had been given.

His walk home was more of a stomp. He was trying to cool his temper from the whole interaction and his anger at himself for even paying that girl any attention. Why did he even care that she couldn't afford food, it's not exactly as if he had the funds himself right now.

---

"Welcome back tomura shigaraki"

That pissed him of. He didn't even have a reason. He was just pissed of. At himself, At that girl and at everything.

"Pour me a drink." He demanded slamming the door behind him before heading to the bar stools and taking a seat.

He slumped over the table, itching at the already raw skin on his neck.

Kurogiri swiftly grabbed the almost empty bottle of the counter behind him and the glass below the counter. His movements were precise as if he was a robot programmed to serve.

"What has you so pissy tonight?" Dabi taunted, making a rare appearance to see what the banging around was about. He wasn't surprised his boss was being like this. Shigaraki was always throwing tantrums about something or the other.

The drink that had just been poured was thrown right over his shoulder in the direction the raspy, burnt voice came from.

"Right, okay then," he threw his arms up in disbelief at the act of aggression, acting as if he hasn't been searching to get a reaction out of his boss before retreating back to bed.

Without another word shigaraki also left the bar to his room to drown himself in shit video games and junk food for the rest of the night. A distraction that wasn't good enough to allow him to forget the encounter.

I'm giving the first chapter, pls lmk feedback and read on wattpad! I will update regular 🫶🫶

[astroariska]

"I DON'T UNDERSTAND ABOUT 8TH HOUSE" DICTIONARY THREAD

Astrology threads sometimes way too confusing. There are so many words that just come out there and make us wonder what we supposed to do then??? It made people think impractical to make astrology into your daily lifes because it's hard to be understood.

Have no fear. I am here to give you a mini thread about the 8th house.

Transformation : What the hell is this word? We never really use this world in our daily lives, isn't it? But really. Transformation is about realizing you need to ELIMINATE that shitty behaviour you didn't want to tell everybody that it's a part of you annd the reason why there is some drama in your life and REPLACE it with a better attitude.

Intimacy. It's not about getting that bombastic sex with your partner. It's about you realizing ... After all the shit and the shot you've been through ... All you need is that person and all you wish is that person to stay with you through thin and thick while wishing life could be better for you.

Power struggle : Simply the imbalance of the relationship that makes you feel you less than equal. Either it makes you feel you work it all or makes you feel you are so fucking useless. This imbalance, let your heart have the urge to solve it out while your heart cannot even simplify the problem within you two.

Inheritances : Doesn't always about money. Sometimes it's about debt. Sometimes it's about what the good, the bad and the ugly shit you share with your parental figure, caretaker or even another family member.

Rebirth : When you are realizing you are not the same anymore after shit happens. When you are realizing the current version of you is really way too different than the old version of you.

Power : Influence over someone, something or a cause that makes a really noticeable change in physical, material, phsycological, spiritual and mental of other people.

Bonus a mini thread about zodiac in 8th house.

Aries 8th house : You hate to acknowledge you are too offensive. But you do have a reason. Acknowledge it now and change the offensive feeling into more passionate attitude as a sign of leadership. Know the differences when you try to give support or just hate to see other being a competitor.

Taurus 8th house : You are way too rigid, slow, stubborn and sometimes ... a boring basic bitch that keeps repeating the same pattern in order to keep you same. It's okay. You've been through a lot. But maybe, you need to change the value that you hold because changing yourself is actually way easier than changing the world?

Gemini 8th house : The best advice to this placement is ... okay, sometimes it feels so good to process everything with your own logic. Math is mathing but you'll end up more anxiouse and less consistence than ever. Maybe it's because you're hard to gain focus but it's a signal you need more dynamic approach so your emotional life could be more interesting than just a typical sadness.

Cancer 8th house : Oh, do you hate feeling vulnerable? Do you think you're weak? What about realizing that your care and your need for nurture is the sign of you being a human being instead of feeling insecure about feel something inside you? Your feeling shows you that you are alive. OWN IT AS YOUR POWER and NOT YOUR FLAW.

Leo 8th house : You're tired of being strong and lead all the time, don't you? But please, just because you're trying to be strong for a long time then you justify all the drama you've punch in people's face. You just need to realizing that sometimes ... The rage is coming from your wounded little child in you that unhappy for the longest time. Remember that when you happy, you gain power.

Virgo 8th house : Oh, snap! You MADE A MISTAKE! Is it small? Is it big? You analyze it until you paralyzed yourself. But honey, mistake were made for you to learn by doing. Instead of punching yourself and hyper-analyze it inside your head, use your mistake to serve those who you love as a lesson that you need to share.

Libra 8th house : Sometimes, it's scary to be lonely but it's more haunting to be with the wrong people and trapped forever with them. But whatever the reason, don't you ever think that you have no right to get the partnership you really wish. You just need to understand that you don't need to please anybody to make them stay. Cheaters always cheat. Haters gonna hate.

Scorpio 8th house : You want to end this life because you feel you can't handle it anymore? But you didn't want everybody know that you're dying inside ... While you actually understand that the key of your life is to breath out your fear and insecurity.

Sagittarius 8th house : It's easier to run away, pack your bag, ghost everybody then pretends like you are the chillest person in the room instead to face how big the mess you need to tidy up. Sometimes is easier to tell people what to do rather to tell yourself what you need to do. When shit comes down, come into your higher self and find the meaning of it. Everything happen for a reason. It's happening not to you, but for you.

Capricorn 8th house : Numbing feeling and hardship makes you out of a breath. I swear, you need a mentor and become more diciplined in your way through because that's the only thing you could do to master this life. Every pain worth the gain.

Aquarius 8th house : If you're feeling like you're out of place, had nobody to stand with you or feeling alienated ... Maybe it's not because people suck. Maybe because your decision was made based how you quickly disengage and diconnected from people you love as you had 0 trust in them. Instead of feeling like you're the black sheep. Channel your brain competency into finding the right purpose, dream and community you're aspire to.

Pisces 8th house : Just because something ends, doesn't mean your life end. Remember. You're not rejected. You're redirected. You're in pain because life will challanges you to take a new path and plant new seed because it's a sign of a fresh start and brand new day. Put your rose colored glass now, it might over but it's doesn't end something. Connect to yourself. You'll found out soon.

[conduitandconjurer]

I think I've figured out one thing (beyond that .... "ending" ....) that bothers me about TUA s4 and Klaus.

It seems like the popular dichotomy, in terms of his characterization, is "fearful of life because he's mortal" versus "careless and effectively invicible" and that somehow being divested of his abilities would pave the way to healing and guarantee sobriety. Klaus's rage at his family for saving his life by returning his powers is proof enough that HE believes this. Alongside this is the presumption that all of his character development last season, mastering the gift of immortality, is itself--RATHER THAN THE WAY THAT HE MASTERED IT (by being led on and used by Reginald, and made to equate his worth with his usefulness/skill)--should be nixed. It's bad for him to be porous to the veil between life and death. It's bad for him to be immortal. He can't "deal with it" and he'll go on a bender the moment it's restored. His unwillingness to drink the "marigolds" (until he's dying and forced to do so) is supposed to be proof of this.

I have some qualms with this line of thinking, despite its solid attempt at showing character development.

I think Klaus is braver than people give him credit for WHILE he is mortal. Friends have posited (and I agree with this part) that he becomes very high strung and phobic about any form of injury or illness because even though mortality is scary to someone who just found out he was immortal...and then lost that immortality...he also feels he has CONTROL over his own body and mind and life that he was NOT afforded when he could be possessed by ghosts and used for his conjuring powers (both by family and predators). And I've been harping on Klaus's need to actually have agency and grant consent since that squicky Ben-possession joke in season 2. But, agh.

To begin with, I don't think Klaus is 'afraid' of life (or at least that the fear is unwarranted or laughable) so much as he's forcing himself to endure what he KNOWS is deeply perilous and unfortunate t unlucky people like himself, without resorting to the powers that also open the door to substance abuse. Of all of the Brellies, he tries the hardest, the most often, to break patterns, when he sees that there is motivation to do so (more on this later). He is hardcore and brave as fuck, rubber gloves or not.

But is it really a good thing, or even necessary for Klaus as a character, to equate no powers with guaranteed sobriety and powers with falling off the wagon? I don't think it is.

Unfortunately, this is hard to glean from the audience pov, because all we're given in this season is the most extreme, toxic, abusive, stomach-turning example of how his powers can be abused the moment they return--and how, of course, this exacerbates relapse. We get the whole 'have sex with his body while the deceased possess it, for drug money" subplot. We get him getting so desperate for the cycle to end that he begins inviting harm and self-harming out of some grim hope that his powers will fail (getting shot in the head scene). And he needs the drugs that this awful situation provides BECAUSE OF said situation. Compound upon that the PAST trauma that it's opening back up like a raw wound (literally, from at least the age of 8). Of course Klaus is using because of his powers, but because THEY'RE BEING ABUSED.

Klaus's abilities don't guarantee a fall off the wagon. His low self-esteem does, and the inability of anyone in his life to communicate with him or intervene does. When (deleted but still important scene) Lila's relatives are calling him, in front of him, a loser junkie (etc), and he says, "Yeah, that's....that'd be me," Klaus is mortal. We see the cogs in his head turning: yeah, I'm worthless, what's the point. And it's already too late right there, unless someone intervenes.

"What's the point," AND NOTHING ELSE, is Klaus's kryptonite. And he isn't a fatalist by nature, I'll (controversially, I guess) add, but there are things nobody can endure forever. Klaus, like any addict, is there because of underlying core beliefs about himself and about his ability to change his circumstances. What I love about the deleted scene that shows Klaus INSISTING on having his AA meeting is that he becomes his own advocate, because well, the Hargreeves are "all assholes" (well spotted, Klaus, lol) in their own ways, and each has to be their OWN intervention. This has more to do with self-determination than it does with seeing ghosts. The cause and the remission of Klaus's addiction is deeper-seated than powers that are given and taken away at surface level.

Why is this so important to me? I guess because to me the powers Klaus never asked for still remind me of something perhaps not initially intrinsic to someone's being--but still something they have to integrate into their lives in order to go on living. I think it MEANS more to fans who identify with Klaus (at least it does to me, someone with debilitating chronic illness) that he be able to transform his abilities into a strength that is, to Klaus and his loved ones, benign, while also not letting it become the central facet of his identity. He IS a medium, but he is also OTHER things. He is a human being, and all human beings have many interests, roles, and hopes.

The precipiating events of Klaus's trauma are NOT his ability to see ghosts or resuscitate. They're the abuse inflicted by those who would use Klaus for their own gain. Why should he give up his powers in order to heal, just because Reginald is an unconscionable monster who was willing to kill his own child over and over and over? I wish Klaus himself had had this epiphany before the show ended.

Losing his powers for good would certainly be the quickest route to healing and growth, and fine, if fans like it, go for it. To me, though, it feels like "don't ever wear crop tops because if you do, you won't get SA'd." Like, no. Maybe the world needs to operate by a kinder standard. Maybe Klaus needs a real support group, a better family of his own, to help him contradict his feelings of self-loathing. Maybe he needs the AA counselor to stay when he shows up for his chip. Maybe he needs reliable transportation to and from. Maybe he needs to move to a different city. Maybe he needs to chat with some of the ghosts he sees, and start a fucking Tuesday evening afterlife meditation circle. Maybe he can get a cheap apartment and fill his living space with succulents that he has to be held accountable to feed and water and keep ALIVE. Maybe he should become an AA counselor and help other people go the right direction. Maybe he should resort to poetry or knitting every time he has an urge to use, and that can become a healthier compulsion. Maybe someday he can get a kitten or start dating again (someone alive, in this century). What Klaus needs is to have MORE in his life to define him than his powers and how they can be used for the benefit of others.

Maybe the TUA writing staff is weirdly sadistic and won't let any of that happen. But by God, we can. And it's important. It's important that healing and remission not be dependant on things others can bestow or take away (like powers). It needs to depend on something internal, an "internal locus of control," as the CBT shrinks call it. THAT is having control over your own life.

[callsign-magnolia]

Undiagnosed // Ch. 10

Mature Content 18+

Jake Seresin x Neurodivergent OC

Summary: Katie Blair grew up trying to be the perfect daughter. She always struggled to be the prim and proper little girl her parents wanted. Big personality as a kid, but now at 25, she's the shy admiral's daughter who just keeps her head down and tries to get through law school. So what happens when she's had enough and with help from a certain Lieutenant, she gets out.

Warnings: Emotional abuse, trauma response, abusive parents.

Word Count: 6.0k

Chapter 9 | Masterlist

A few weeks go by, May is over and we were diving headfirst into June. After my eye appointment Jake took me to the bookstore, where we bought a few books that I had been wanting and then we went home. I immediately got online and started looking for frames for my glasses. I scrolled and scrolled for a few days until I came across those same Kate Spade glasses I saw on display. I went to scroll past them when I saw they were on a massive sale. They were originally two hundred and sixty dollars, but they were marked down to one hundred and ten online. That's the average price for glasses, but I bit my lip looking at them. I couldn't ask Jake for these even if they were on sale. "Find some you like?" I jumped, losing my grip on my phone as Jake startled me from behind. "Jake! God, don't scare me like that." I said, my hand over my heart as I leaned back into the couch. He just laughed, coming around and sitting next to me. Before he was even completely sitting, he snatched my phone, looking at the frames. "These are nice." He said, looking at them.

"Yeah but they're too expensive." I responded and he scoffed. "One ten isn't bad, darlin'. I was doing some research and saw the average was two hundred dollars.” He looked through everything on the glasses before turning to me. “There.” He said as he handed me my phone. I looked down and saw he had ordered them. “What if those weren’t the ones I wanted?” I asked and he laughed. “I saw you lookin’ at them at the doctor’s office darlin’. You wanted them.” With that he disappeared into the kitchen. I sighed, relaxing back into the couch as I looked at my phone. I felt bad because Jake has dropped a lot of money on me in the past few days, I had to figure out a way to pay him back. Of course, with no money that’s near impossible. So I would have to do something else. I thought about it for a while before figuring out a plan. While he was at work that week, I made sure the house was spotless, I did his laundry, made his bed and was prepping dinner by the time he got home. The first day he thanked me and was so pleased. But after a few weeks he came into my room after dinner, leaning on my door frame as he watched me put lotion on my legs. “Can I talk to you?” He asked and immediately my heart started pounding in my chest. “Um, yeah.” I put my lotion down and he came, sitting on my bed, looking at me. 

“Why are you doing all this stuff?” He asked and I furrowed my brows. “The cleaning?” “And the cooking, and doing my laundry, and making my bed.” I frowned, pulling my knees up to my chest. “Do you not want me to do that?” He sighed, flopping back on my bed. “I appreciate it, I really do. But it’s every day. Isn't there something else you'd rather spend your day doing?" He asked. I sighed, looking at the few books he bought me. I was halfway through one and I knew if I read all day I’d have the entire stack finished in two weeks. Then Jake would feel like he had to buy me more books. Television isn’t really doing it for me, and you can only watch so many movies. “Honestly?” He nodded. “Honestly.” I sighed, hugging my knees tighter. “Yeah. But I can’t think of much other than reading and it sucks when you finish a book so fast.” He stared at me and I felt like he could read me as easily as flight patterns. “But… you’ve also spent so much money on me lately and I don’t have money to pay you back so I thought I would do things for you.” He sighed, his eyes turning to look at the ceiling. “Darlin’, you don’t have to pay me back for any of this.” I shook my head. “Jake, you signed up to help me get out, not take care of me.” He chuckled, rolling onto his side and propping his head on his fist. My eyes drifted and I couldn’t help but notice his bulging biceps. “Katie.” He said, my eyes meeting his. “Darlin,” He smiled at me. “I don’t care about taking care of you. I’m happy to do it if it means you don’t have to go back to that house of horrors.” I smiled at him. “Thank you.” I whispered and he smiled at me. “Okay. Well I’m gonna go to bed, I’m exhausted.” I nodded as he stood before leaning over and kissing my head. “Night, darlin’.” He said before walking out. “Night, Jake.” 

A week later my glasses came in and I was excited when Jake pulled the box from the mailbox, and handed it to me. “Oh my god!” I squealed, excited to be able to see clearly again. I rushed inside, setting the box on the counter and searching for the scissors. “Dammit! Where are they?” I called out and I heard someone clear their throat behind me. I turned to see Jake, scissors in hand as he grinned at me. “Ah! Thank you!” I said, yanking the scissors from his hand and practically tearing the box apart. “I’ve never seen someone so excited for glasses.” I laughed at his words. “Well I have pretty shitty eyesight, so I’m excited to see clearly again.” I said, reaching into the box of packing peanuts and pulling out my new glasses. “HA!” I yelled, quickly cleaning the little bits of foam off the lenses. I slid them on and it took my eyes a second to adjust after going a few weeks without glasses but finally I could see. “Well?” He asked and I looked at him. Finally from a distance I could see him so clearly. “They’re great! I can finally see!” I looked out the kitchen window to the backyard. “Nice to know the leaves are still individual and not giant green blobs.” He laughed as he looked out the window with me. “Is your eyesight really that bad?” He asked and I pulled my glasses off, holding them out to him. “It’s not the worst eyesight ever but anything two feet in front of me and past that is blurry.” I told him and he held my glasses up to his face. “Oh my god that is blurry.” He said and I laughed, taking my glasses back. “So you can see why I’m happy to have glasses again.”

Another two weeks after that I had my first therapy session after Jake got off work and I lost track of time again and had to rush to get ready. Once again I tossed on a dress, some sandals, my hair was in a bun and I had no makeup. I grabbed my purse, rushing downstairs as Jake waited for me. “Come on. I can’t be late! God, of course I would make myself late.” I said as I rushed by him. “Katie, hang on.” He said, following me. “Did you not just hear me? I’m running behind, no thanks to my shitty time management skills.” I said, getting in the truck. Jake huffed, getting in beside me. I was a nervous wreck for this. Bradley has tried all week to calm me down and it did in the moment, then the nerves would creep back in. “Katie, can we talk?” I sighed, taking deep breaths and tried not to snap at him. “Jake.” I said as my voice broke and tears filled my eyes. “I am trying not to freak out right now. Could we talk after my session?” I asked and he gave me a small smile, nodding. “Yeah,” His voice was soft as he reached over the console, grabbing my hand and holding our intertwined fingers on it. “We can talk after.”

The rest of the ride was quiet but as Jake’s thumb rubbed my knuckles I calmed a little. But as soon as he let go and threw the truck in park, the nerves were back as I stared up at the tall building. I managed to get out and walk around the truck, heading for the door but I stopped short. My hand clutched the leather straps of my purse as it sat on my shoulder. Could I really do this? Tell a complete stranger everything that’s happened to me? Especially within the last few months? Well, I guess Jake was a complete stranger once. “Want me to go in with you?” I turned to see Jake leaning out the window of his truck. I sighed defeatedly. “Would you?” He smiled, rolling up the window and getting out. “C’mon.” He said, holding out his hand for me. “Thank you.” I said as I took his hand and walked inside. We took the elevator up to the eighth floor and down the hall to Dr. Davis’ office. We walked in and I smiled at the receptionist. “Hi, my name is Katie Blair. I have an appointment with Dr. Davis.” The lady hummed and typed on her keyboard. “Fill this out and have a seat.” She said in a bland tone. I gave her a small nod and took the clipboard, following Jake to some empty seats. We sat down and I looked at the clipboard. There was so much they needed to know, it was a little overwhelming. I eventually filled out everything I knew but when it came to things like insurance, I was stuck. “What’s wrong?” He asked. “I uh- I don’t have insurance and I don’t really know what to put.” I said and he leaned over, looking. “Here. Self-pay.” I checked the little box and sat back. 

He squinted at the paper that had my name on it. “Why does that name look familiar?” He asked. “Probably because it’s mine.” I sassed and he chuckled, nudging me. “Haha. No, I mean your first and middle name. Katie Scarlett.” I sighed, scrunching my nose at his question. “Ever seen Gone With The Wind?” It was my mother’s favorite movie, and of course. “No!” He gasped. “She didn’t.” I nodded. “If my last name had been O’Hara she would’ve kept me in corsets and hoop skirts.” He chuckled. “Well I like your name.” I nodded. “I do too. I think it’s pretty, just wish she had been more creative.” I said before getting up and walking over to the reception desk. “Here’s this.” She hummed, scowling at me as she looked up at me over the tops of her glasses. “For the record. You were late.” I bit my lip. My appointment was at four-thirty and we got into the office at four-thirty three. “Dr. Davis does not accept late patients.” My heart leapt into my throat. I got lucky with this early opening, they were booked out eight months otherwise. “Leave her alone Kathy.” A voice behind me spoke. “Hi, I’m Dr. Davis.” She held out her hand for me to shake. She was a little shorter than me, long dark brown hair and glasses on her face. She had to be about my mother’s age. And that worried me, what if she didn’t understand? “I-I’m Katie.” She smiled at me. “Well Katie, if you’re ready we can go into my office.” My gaze immediately shifted to Jake and he gave me a small smile. “I’ll be right here waiting for you.” I smiled at him and followed Dr. Davis into her office before she closed the door behind us. “Have a seat. Want some water?” At her question I realized my throat would dry. “Yes, please.” 

I sat in one of the comfy looking chairs she had in her office as she grabbed a bottle from the mini fridge and handed it to me. “You look lovely.” She complimented, sitting across from me. “Oh, uh thank you. I look like a wreck though. No makeup, my hair is pulled up and I just grabbed something from my closet.” I said and she nodded. “You still look beautiful.” My face flushed and she narrowed her eyes at me. “My mother always told me I had to be well put together to be beautiful.” She hummed, writing something down on her notepad. “Why don’t you tell me about your mother.” She asked and I took a deep breath. “She’s not a good person.” She nodded, writing stuff down. “And why is that?” I was a little agitated but I knew she had to ask. “I never remember her being necessarily kind to me. When I was little she had me in beauty pageants, my talent was a gymnastics routine and I was good at it. I would come in first almost every time and she would be so proud.” I said as tears gathered in my eyes. “I was seven and she set up my equipment. I threw a backhandspring on the balance beam, fell off and somehow snapped my femur in half.” She nodded. “That must have been painful.” I pursed my lips. “It was.” My hand fell to my leg, something I haven’t done in years. “I felt it immediately, my thigh was curved medially.” I said, using my hand to curve away from my body all the way down to my knee which pointed inwards. “I cried. God did I cry. Everyone panicked and one father was a medic and rushed over. But just before that I remember my mom telling me to shut up and not grab attention. But as soon as he came over, she was the worried mother, crying over her child's pain.” 

She hummed, passing me a box of tissues. “That makes you mad?” “No shit it makes me mad.” I snapped before taking a deep breath and closing my eyes. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.” She shook her head with a smile. “No, that’s good. You should be mad. Tell me more.” I nodded. “Um, I couldn’t make friends. My mother tried to tell me we were better than everyone, but it never stuck. I was a social child, I loved talking to people and making friends but as soon as I would really get to know someone, form a bond we would move. Eventually I just stopped trying and before I knew it, totally isolated.” I said, wanting to pull my knees up to my chest, but I was in a dress and that’s not lady like. “They wanted me to go to law school. So I did.” She hummed. “And how was that?” “Awful. I was the freak of the school. I get excited about things that no one else seems to care about.” She hummed again. “Like what?” I bit my lip, looking down. “Um, I used to have some fish and I would constantly talk to anyone about them that would listen.” I started pulling on my thumbs. “What were their names?” She asked and I couldn’t help the smile on my face. “Um, splish and splash were my two goldfish, Georgie was my guppy, Simon was an angelfish and then Ripley was a neon tetra.” She smiled at me. “Do you have a picture?” I nodded enthusiastically. When I got into my old backup account I saved a few pictures of my fish as well. I just couldn’t go without pictures of them. “Oh my, they’re so pretty.” She said, adjusting her glasses and I grinned. “Thank you.” I said, putting my phone back in my purse.

“What happened to them?” My breath caught in my throat, not expecting her to be so direct. I thought back to how angry my dad was and a chill ran down my spine. “I was supposed to be studying, but I had done it so much I just wanted to read my book.” She raised a brow but nodded. “My dad was already mad and when he saw I wasn’t studying, he got even more angry and swiped all my old pageant trophies off my dresser. He said I was lazy and stupid and told me I would be nothing without him. He tipped over my bookshelf, trashed my CD’s and when I told him I didn’t need him, he ripped my glasses from my face.” Her eyes were wide as she stared at me before writing in her notes. “Go on.” She motioned me to continue. “He told me if I wasn’t going to use my glasses to study, I must not need them. Then he took one of my textbooks and crushed them on my desk.” Her jaw was practically on the floor as I went on. “He threw me into the table that held my fish tank and he said he was sick of them, so he launched the book into the side of the tank. It shattered and they all flooded out onto the floor. They flopped around and I put them in a container of water, but none of them survived.” Tears filled my eyes at the memory. “Then he told me to get the hell over it and to clean up the mess.” 

“Katie. That’s abuse.” I nodded. “I know that now.” She sighed, taking a breath. “Anything else?” I hummed. “Can I just tell you recent stuff?” She nodded. “Not long before my dad killed my fish, my friend Jake, the one out in the waiting room, came over and helped me clean my fish tank and my parents came home early.” I thought back to the angry look on my fathers face. “As soon as the door shut, he grabbed me by my hair, dragged me from where I was standing in the tub, and threw me to the floor. Jake didn’t leave the house, he just closed the door but he was still there.” I said, wiping tears from my eyes. “I managed to get him to leave just as my dad pulled off his belt and started hitting me.” She just seemed shocked by everything I was saying. “That’s not even the worst.” I said and she sighed. “Katie. We don’t have to go over everything today. We can do another session.” I shook my head. “I really wanna get this out.” She nodded again and got comfortable in her chair. “The day after my dad killed my fish, I ran off with Jake to his house. But I panicked and thought my dad would ruin his life so I went back.” She furrowed her brows. “How would your dad ruin Jake’s life?” She asked. “Jake is a Lieutenant in the navy. My dad is his Fleet Commander.” She hummed. “And how high in rank is Fleet Commander?” I chuckled, leaning my head back on the chair. “The highest. It’s the equivalent of an Army General. He is the person with the most control.” She hummed. “What happened when you went back?” 

“They tricked me.” She raised her brows in surprise. “They pretended like they knew they did wrong, and even apologized and told me they loved me.” It was silent for a moment as tears fell down my face. “That’s the first time I remember them saying they loved me… and it was a lie.” My voice broke as I grabbed a tissue. “I woke up the next morning to a lock outside my door. They locked me in and told me I was never coming back out.” She stared at me in shock. “How long were you locked in there?” I sighed. “A week. It was a Saturday when my mom made me get up and put me in the shower for the first time. She did my hair and I did my makeup before she put me in a white dress and locked me in again. She told me I had to look perfect for who they were bringing over.” I said as I wiped my eyes again. “I overheard them when they walked past the door. My mom said she didn’t care what these people did with me once I was out of her house.” She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “How did you get out?” She asked, concern lacing her voice. “They left and I kind of panicked. The door was locked, my windows were nailed shut, and I had no phone. But I sat against my bed and looked over at my desk. There was a curled cord hanging out of one of the drawers.” I chuckled. “It was my old landline, and thankfully my parents still had service running through the house. So I plugged in the phone jack and it worked. I called Jake and him and a few friends came in to get me out.” She gave me a small smile. “Sounds like great friends.” 

“They really are. Jake is letting me live with him now, but I feel so lost. I told him I would get a job but he offered for me to live there and go to nursing school. My mother always controlled my life, now that I got away. I don’t really know what to do.” She slapped her notepad down on the arm of her chair and leaned forward with a wide grin. “Do something for yourself.” I took a deep breath. “I came to therapy.” I gave her a smile and she chuckled. “Do something else.” I pursed my lips, thinking about what I could do. “Can I give a suggestion?” I nodded, feeling like a little guidance would help. “Go to nursing school.” My eyebrows shot up. “Really?” She nodded enthusiastically. “You have someone letting you live in their house rent free. Going to school, and working to pay bills would be so difficult. You are in a very good situation right now and you need to take advantage of it.” I nodded, biting my lip. “I’ll think about it.” She nodded. “Good.” We spoke a little more about our next steps in therapy and my mother’s voice in my head. By the end of my session I felt a little better and we stood. “I would really like to try EMDR with you. I think it could really help you move forward in the healing process.” I nodded. “You think I’ll ever be normal?” I asked and she chuckled. “If there’s anything I’ve learned in my line of work. Normal doesn’t exist. But we will work together to get you in the right headspace and ways to go through your life, without your mother’s voice in your head.” I nodded as she handed me a few pamphlets on EMDR, something she wanted to try with me. I was finally getting help. I felt a wave of emotions washing over me as I stared down at the pamphlets. Tears filled my eyes as I looked over at Dr. Davis. “Thank you, Dr. Davis.” She smiled at me, shaking my hand. “You’re welcome, Katie. Now, what are you going to do after this?” I chuckled, smiling at her. “Seriously consider nursing school.” She nodded and walked me out. “Make another appointment for whatever is convenient to you. We’ll figure out a time frame next time.” I nodded before she called another patient in. 

“You okay?” Jake asked as he walked over. He saw the tears in my eyes and opened his arms, pulling me into a hug. “I will be.” He nodded before releasing me to schedule my next appointment, but his arm never left my shoulder. I made another appointment for a month, thinking that would be a good time. Jake paid, which I felt guilty for, and grabbed my hand, walking us into the elevator then out to the truck. Once we got in, I wiped my eyes and turned to him. “Didn’t you have something to tell me?” He seemed a little surprised. “Oh, yeah. Bu-but it can wait till tomorrow.” I furrowed my brows as I leaned my head on the window. “You sure?” He nodded, giving me a soft smile. “I’m sure.” He asked me if I wanted to go eat somewhere before going home, but I felt so exhausted we just stopped for fast food and ate it on the couch. “You sure you’re okay?” He asked when we cleaned up and sat back down on the couch. “Yeah, I’m just really tired.” He hummed as my head laid back on the couch. It wasn’t long until I passed out on the couch, but the next morning I woke up in my bed. I looked at the clock and saw it said nine a.m. I slept for over twelve hours? I fell asleep before eight last night. I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Jake was already at work. Jake. I thought for a second and realized he had to have carried me to bed. Unless I walked to bed and don’t remember? I’ll ask him when he gets home. With that I flung the covers off of me and grabbed my phone. I had a text from Phoenix asking about a birthday party for Rooster, and one from Jake asking about dinner tonight. “What could he have to say that he needs me and Kelly at dinner?” I asked myself as I went downstairs to make breakfast. I spent the day doing some research on EMDR and found a lot of interesting info on it. Before I could lose track of time, I showered a whole two hours before Jake came home, then tossed a load of towels in the washer. 

I couldn’t figure out what to wear so I texted Kelly and asked what she would be wearing. I had never been to this place but I had heard of it. She finally texted me back when Jake got home, saying she was wearing a navy blue slip dress. It gave me an idea of what to wear so I shifted through my closet as Jake knocked on the door frame. “Hey.” I turned and smiled at him as I pulled out a dress and held it up. “Hi. How was your day?” I asked. “Busy. I spent five out of nine hours in the air.” I poked my bottom lip out at him. “I’m sorry.” I said and he chuckled. “What are you doing?” He asked. “Just trying to find a dress. I’ve never been to this place so I text Kelly and asked what she was wearing.” He hummed, crossing his right leg over his left, hands in his pockets as he leaned on the door frame. The t-shirt showed off his muscular tan arms so well. “And what is she wearing?” He asked and I giggled. “Well she didn’t tell me I couldn’t tell you, but I won’t. All I’ll say is it’s a little navy number.” I said, winking at him. He smiled at me, watching as I held another dress up in front of my body as I looked at myself in the mirror in my room. “And what are you wearing?” I shrugged. “Not sure yet. But when I find out, I’ll get your opinion.” He grinned at me before turning to walk away. “Hey Jake?” I asked and he turned back to me. “Did you…” I froze, feeling weird about asking this question. He walked closer, propping his elbow on the dresser and looking down at me with a grin. His face was so close to mine, his minty breath fanning across my face. “Did I what?” He asked. I opened and closed my mouth a few times before I pushed past the not so pure thoughts crossing my mind. “Did you bring me up to bed last night?” I asked and he smiled at me so widely I thought I would go blind. 

“I did. I couldn’t let you be all uncomfortable on the couch.” He said. “I’m sorry. I should’ve gotten up.” He shook his head, wrapping his fingers around one of my curls that I coated with finishing spray to keep it intact. “Don’t apologize. It was like lifting a sheet of paper.” He said before leaning in and kissing my forehead. “Thank you.” I said as he turned to walk out. “We have two hours before we have to pick up Kelly and make our reservations.” I nodded as he walked down to his room. It took me a minute to gather my thoughts but once I did I threw myself into my closet. I couldn’t think about him that way. He was a friend, and one that was doing so much for me. Plus, he was in a relationship and he would never be interested in me anyway. Finally I found a dress and hung it on the outside of my closet before going and putting my makeup on. It was soft and simple, light pink eyeshadow to match the flowers on my dress. Once that was done we had half an hour before we left so I put on the dress and grabbed my nude heels. I had no jewelry which felt weird, I almost felt incomplete without it. So I just grabbed my purse and walked downstairs where I put my shoes on. “Woah.” I turned to find Jake standing on the second to last step. “Too much?” I asked and he stared at me for a second before shaking his head. “No. No, not at all.” I smiled, brushing the skirt of my dress. It was a black maxi dress with pink magnolia blooms on it. It had a split on one side of the skirt and the top was a cross halter which left my back completely exposed. 

“You look beautiful.” I couldn’t help the giggle that escaped me. “Thank you.” I said and he smiled at me. “Ready, darlin’?” He asked and I nodded. “Yeah.” He grabbed my hand and led me out to the truck, opening the passenger door for me and helping me in. Once he got in we drove to Kelly’s house and I tried to pry the news out of him. “Oh come on. Please tell me!” I said, leaning across the center console and looking up at him with big doe eyes. “I’m not looking at you.” I sat back in my seat and pouted. “Why not?” I asked, offended. “I’d give in immediately if I did.” I felt a surge of something rush through my chest and I couldn’t wipe the grin off my face. Soon we arrived at Kelly’s apartment complex and she walked out her door. I got out of the front seat, leaving the door open for her as I crawled into the back seat. I got in and buckled just as she climbed in. “Gee, your roommate does more for me than you do when getting in the truck.” She joked and he rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of annoyance in her tone. “Hi baby.” He said and they both leaned over the console, kissing each other sweetly. I gave them a small smile as they pulled apart, they intertwined fingers resting on the console. Just like ours were yesterday, and I frowned at the memory. There was a tension in the truck and we rode in silence. When we arrived, Jake handed the truck over to the valet and we walked in. When Jake helped Kelly out of the car, I really got a look at her dress. A navy midi slip dress with thin straps and a split up the thigh. She really looked pretty with her hair curled and pulled into a pretty bun, a few hairs framing her face. She was so pretty and I felt very… plain compared to her. 

I shook my insecurities aside as we walked in and we were led to a table in a back corner, soft lights illuminating the table. Jake pulled out mine and Kelly’s chairs before sitting down himself. He was next to Kelly and I was directly across from him. He rested his forearms on the table and I couldn’t look away from his arms, which had the sleeves rolled up. He looked so good in his navy shirt and black slacks, but I watched as his hand fell to her thigh and I felt a little dejected at the sight. But I had no right to be. I shook the thoughts from my mind and tuned into the conversation. “So, Katie. Jake told me you had therapy yesterday.” Jake’s face fell and I felt a little embarrassed. I didn’t want anyone to know, but I didn’t tell Jake that either so I can’t get mad. “Um, yeah. I did.” Suddenly the waiter came over to take our drink orders. Jake and Kelly ordered some wine and I ordered water. “She’ll also have a glass of chardonnay.” My eyes snapped to Jake and the waiter nodded, walking away. “What if I didn’t want wine?” I asked and he chuckled. “I saw you looking at the wine menu.” Kelly immediately turned to me. “So how did your session go yesterday?” I sighed. “Um, really good actually. I think it’s gonna be good for me.” She nodded and our drinks came. I immediately picked up my glass, taking a large sip. Probably very un-lady-like but I didn’t care. By the time the food arrived I was two glasses in and feeling it. Hardly drinking makes for a low alcohol tolerance and I needed food to fix it. I sat here quietly while we waited and dug in as soon as the pasta sat in front of me. I listened to the conversation and sobered up quite a bit by the end of dinner.

“So… Katie.” He said, catching my attention as the waiter took my plate. He opened his mouth as he looked at me before quickly snatching the dessert menu. “Want some tiramisu?” He asked and I furrowed my brows at him. “Um, no thanks. I think we’ve racked up quite the bill tonight.” I said and he shook his head. “Nope, we're having dessert.” He said and caught our waiter's attention. “Three orders of tiramisu, please.” The waiter nodded and turned away. Kelly smacked his arm and caught his attention. “Tell her.” She practically growled out. My heart immediately sank. He was kicking me out. He’s grown tired of me and can’t stand to have me in his house anymore. He was throwing me out with nowhere to go. My breathing picked up and I felt like I couldn’t get any breath into my lungs. “Katie.” Jake caught my attention as the waiter set the coffee dessert in front of me, as well as another glass of wine. I snatched the glass, downing it as fast as possible. “Are you okay?” Kelly asked and I shook my head. “Not really. I’m so nervous I’m shaking.” I said and Jake furrowed his brows as Kelly squeezed his hand on the table. “Why are you nervous?” I sighed, squeezing my hands between my thighs to ground myself. 

“You’re kicking me out.” He seemed shocked and immediately leaned forward. “Katie. I would never do that. Why would you think that?” He asked and I shrugged, grabbing my spoon and digging in. “I figured you couldn’t stand to have me around anymore.” I said and he shook his head. “Katie no.” I sighed. “Then what is she pushing you to tell me?” I asked and he sighed, looking at Kelly as she took his hand in hers. “Katie. I’m getting deployed.” I looked at him shocked and it felt like everything was crashing down. Without Jake I would really be lost. If my parents found me, they would have no problem dragging me out of that house and back into the room. Hell, they probably wouldn’t feed me for a week. “Wh-what?” I stuttered out, my voice meek and small. “They’re shipping out the entire team at the end of the month. For six weeks.” I sat there as tears filled my eyes, looking down at the dessert in front of me, suddenly no longer enticed by it. “Katie? Are you gonna be okay?” Kelly asked and I looked up at her. “Um, to be honest. I don’t know.” I immediately stood, grabbing my purse. “I need some air.” I said before rushing past them and outside.

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

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[thehaberdasheress]

This week we did the first two live markets of the year!

To be honest, the net profit was -$10 at one and positive $55 at another, but while I wish they made more, I don't just do these for the money.

It was great and chaotic and a huge learning experience, figuring out how to visually present all our products and demonstrate them to people.

Every market, I get more information on what works and what doesn't. Last week I spent time in the woodshop making different display elements, like a turntable to put all my embroidery patterns on, and now I've learned I need to change one of the base plates to make it turn smoothly. The signs and packaging that I made were way too small for people to easily make out from a normal standing distance—I'm way too used to working with photography that captures all the details, not thinking about how it gets viewed from 20 feet back.

Also, I'm working on building up stock of sewing supplies! In three categories:

Premade tools, unadulterated (buttonhole gauges, thimbles, scissors, etc)

Convenient package sizes I've made of tools and materials (thread wax buttons, bobbins of thread made from natural fibers and/or dyed using pre-modern techniques, sewing kits, etc)

Custom kits for common projects, like an embroidered belt purse or a blackworked renaissance shirt, with materials and detailed step-by-step instructions

When will any of these be up on Etsy? I wish I could tell you. My bank gave me a wee bit of funding so I could afford to hire a part-time online marketing assistant, but unfortunately she's been having some health issues lately. Hopefully she gets better soon, but until then, I can't give you an ETA.

[ultrone]

omg so like hear me out on this… spider!lottie x kleptomaniac!reader

🕸️🕷️ –— spider!lottie x kleptomaniac!reader﹙1.0k wc﹚

you hadn't meant for it to turn into a pattern, but somehow, you always found yourself walking out of the convenience store with something you hadn't paid for. it wasn't that you wanted the items; it was just an impulsive habit.

this time, you had your sights set on a plastic dinosaur figurine that was perched near the counter. you quickly slipped it into your bag, thinking you were being discreet. but as you turned to leave, you found yourself nearly colliding with someone.

before you stood a tall girl, dressed in a sleek and unmistakably superhero-esque outfit—spider-girl, to be precise. shit. her eyes locked onto yours with an amused yet exasperated look. "a plastic dinosaur? seriously?" she remarked, her tone tinged with humorous disbelief.

you felt your cheeks heat up as you stammered, "i... uh, it's not what it looks like."

she sighed, clearly holding back a chuckle. "you know, most people go for cash or valuable stuff. but hey, who am i to judge?"

your heart raced, unsure whether this encounter would end with handcuffs or an awkward apology. to your surprise, she reached into her pocket and pulled out some money, handing it over to the cashier. "i'll pay for it. just... be more careful next time."

you blinked, utterly baffled by her response. "uh, thanks."

with a smirk, she turned to leave. "just promise me you'll aim higher next time."

and just like that, she left, the door ringing as it opened and closed, leaving you standing there in disbelief.

as the days turned into weeks, she caught you stealing a few more times, but instead of getting angry or calling the police, she always ended up laughing at the things you tried to take.

one sunny afternoon, a local carnival had set up in the heart of the city, and you saw an opportunity too good to pass up. your eyes locked onto a gigantic teddy bear that practically begged for a new home. you couldn't resist the challenge, and without much thought, you embarked on a mission to "borrow" it.

with determination—and stupidity, you found yourself getting tangled in the plush limbs of the massive toy. but just as you realized you might be stuck, a familiar voice floated to your ears. "i've seen some creative attempts, but this one takes the cake."

startled, you twisted around to find spider-girl leaning casually against a nearby support pole. she looked at you and the stuffed animal with amusement and concern.

you tried to extricate yourself from the predicament with a sheepish grin. "i... may have overestimated my ability to pull this off."

spider-girl chuckled, stepping forward to help you unravel from the plush mess. "i'll give you points for creativity, at least."

as you finally stood free, you let out a sigh of relief, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. "thanks..."

she grinned at you under her mask, amusement dancing in her eyes. "lottie. my name's lottie."

your heart skipped a beat at the revelation, and you watched in awe as lottie reached up to her mask, deftly unfastening it and revealing a face that was even more captivating than you had imagined. you couldn't help but stare—she was so pretty, so much so that you felt a flutter of nervousness deep within you.

lottie caught your gaze, her smile warm and genuine. "i don't just show my face to anyone, you know? but you've earned a special place on my 'no snitching to the police' list; i figured if you're going to keep stealing stuffed animals around me, you deserve to know who's keeping you in check."

you chuckled, relieved by her light-heartedness. "i'm honored. and don't worry, your secret's safe with me," you assured.

"good to know," she replied with a mock-serious nod, though her eyes sparkled with joy. "besides, if anything, i could always snitch to the police for trying to steal things," she added the last part with a playful glint in her eye.

you raised an eyebrow playfully. "oh, is that a threat?"

she leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper. "well, only if you don't promise to behave."

you flushed at her words and her proximity, but before you could respond, she took you by the hand and led you, walking toward a nearby game.

the two of you spent the rest of the carnival wandering around, sharing cotton candy and daring each other to try various games and rides. it was during a break, as you both sat on a bench, people-watching, that you found yourself drawn to the unmasked girl beside you.

"i feel like i owe you a confession," you admitted, your voice tinged with nerves and honesty, your fingers twisting and fidgeting with each other.

lottie turned to you, her curiosity evident in her eyes. "oh? what's that?"

you glanced down at your hands, a bit unsure of how to continue. "i never really wanted any of the stuff i took," you confessed. "it's always been this impulsive habit, a way to... i don't know, feel something, i guess."

lottie's gaze softened, and she reached for your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "it's okay. we all have our ways of coping with things." she comforted you, "but maybe you can channel that energy into something different."

you met her eyes, your curiosity evident with furrowed eyebrows. "like what?"

"mmm..." she said, pretending to ponder. "like spending time with someone who appreciates you for who you are and can make you laugh," she said, her lips curving into a gentle smile.

you flushed slightly at her suggestion, your heart dancing in your chest. "you know? maybe that'd work," you teased, a playful glint in your eyes.

as the carnival lights grew brighter against the darkening sky, it was finally time to head home. lottie dropped you off, and before she put her mask back on and swung away with her spiderwebs, she left a quick kiss on your cheek, her lips soft against your skin.

and with that, she spun around, shooting her webbing to a nearby building, and swung away into the night. you watched her disappear into the distance, your heart fluttering in your chest.

as you entered your room, something caught your attention. your eyes widened as you saw the gigantic teddy bear you had attempted to "borrow" from the carnival now hung upside down from the ceiling, suspended by intricate spiderwebs. a note dangled from its paw, handwritten with a purple glittery pen: “see you tomorrow, i'll pick you up at 6:00 pm. xoxo lottie ♡”

[fantasy-anatomy-analyst]

I had the opportunity to attend rose city comicon this weekend! it was fun!

i got so many compliments on the crochet things I was wearing. I've been considering for a while that I might be able to make money selling crochet things at events like cons and ren faires/fantasy festivals. I'll have to spend a lot of time and money building an inventory and making more of a social media presence for myself and whatever.

but if I do manage to get to that point and I have a booth selling crochet, what items do you all think would be the most popular?

(image description: all the crochet items from the poll, in order. one photo of a dragon scale glove, one photo of a collection of parasols, four photos of different shawls with lacy patterns, two photos of scarves and a photo of a hooded scarf, and two photos of cocoon cardigans, which are very loose square shapes and have short baggy sleeves. end description)

if I have a sense of what people would be more likely to purchase, I can build a more effective inventory. keeping in mind, of course, none of it would be cheap and the parasols would probably be the most expensive thing here. but maybe by next year or the year after that I could have enough inventory to get a booth at some local event and sell some things.

If I figure out the most cost efficient way to make art prints, maybe I can even do some cool fantasy illustrations like a nice print of some speculative evolution or some of the art from my own worldbuilding posts like the centaur deities or something. I'm genuinely kind of excited and motivated now! it's been so hard to figure out how I can earn a living without sacrificing all the time I put into my personal passions, or how to earn money from my passions without sacrificing the joy I get from making things. but maybe I actually can do it, if I just find the right venues.

also if you'd like to help me build my yarn stash so I can craft a large inventory of things to sell, please consider donating to my ko-fi page or paying me for a commission! I am also willing to do crochet commissions, I just don't have a specific info page for it right now.

[toxicrivalries]

hey lovely, are you able to explain the real madrid hatred for a football noob?

(i follow you for f1 and am a nosey bitch)

Okay let me preface all of this with this fact: i support Real Madrid's bitter rivals, FC Barcelona. I've supported them since i was a little baby learning what football was and could hear the stadium down the road. Just for that and that alone, I would hate Real Madrid, regardless of what they were like as a football club.

So apparently I have so much to say. I will put it under a readmore.

Luckily for us, they give plenty of reasons for hatred. Let's address stuff from the beginning. The "real" in Real Madrid means royal. They got were bestowed it by the king in the 1920s. While not directly a critique of the spanish royal family (since I am not spanish and cannot speak to the broader feelings on the matter of the monarchy), this is the beginning of a pattern with Real Madrid and their relationship to governments, governing bodies, and power.

Especially, when you learn the next point. Franco, of spanish dictatorship fame, was a madrid supporter. Now, whether or not he arranged for game results to go in his clubs favour, or if the knowledge that the country's bloodthirsty dictator supported this football club made referees think twice about making decisions that would be unfavourable for the club, it doesn't matter. The end result was the same: Real Madrid benefited from this, with trophies (and the prize money that accompanies those), with results, and with prestige. This isn't to say Madrid didn't win anything before, they did, they're one of the 3 teams that have never been relegated (dropped down to a lower dicision) in the history of Spanish football. But looking at games under Franco, the results tell their own story.

That's our background. Let's talk more present day. So in football, one of the biggest competitions for clubs (as opposed to national teams) is the Champions League. The Champions League is a competition organised by UEFA (the european football governing body) in which the top teams across Europe compete for a trophy, for one team to be crowned champions of Europe. Real Madrid have won this 15 times since the competition started, in its current and previous forms. No other club comes close to that number, the runners up (AC Milan) have 7 to their name. Impressive numbers, no? Let's take a closer look at when these 15 were won.

As we can see this is essentially three dominant periods (one of which was during the early days where only one team per nation qualified and also overlaps with Franco's Spain meaning Real Madrid qualified through preferential treatment in Spain).

The more recent ones are more fascinating though. So, the current day philosophy (from 2000-onwards) that Madrid have towards football, is to build a team full of superstars, who are often referred to as 'Galacticos', through marquee signings and a frankly eye-watering amount of money. A lot of clubs try to replicate this approach with significantly less success, so I must hand it to Madrid, whatever it is they're doing, it works.

(Personally, I'm more a fan of giving your academy products a chance to grow and thrive, but I'm also spoilt on the matter by being a Barcelona fan and my club having arguably the best football academy of the world, so the quality of the academy products is guaranteed to be incredibly high.)

This approach also leads to a lot of prima donna figures in the dressing room, who are then reinforced by the club mentality that they're the worlds most special football players, and deserve to win every award under the sun. And sometimes, yeah, they do, I won't argue they don't. But not always.

This brings us to the most recent drama. So there's two elements to it, I think.

One of them is the result from the game on Saturday. Barcelona played Real Madrid, in Madrid's own stadium. The Barcelona - Madrid match up, often referred to as el clasico (the classic), is always a huge game. There's many many things tied into that rivalry, including bragging rights, politics, a long and sordid and bitter history between the two clubs, opposing football world views approaches and philosophies. More often than not, the two games between these two teams are what ends up determining who will be crowned spanish champions at the end of the season. This most recent el clasico ended 0-4 in Barcelona's favour. To understand how much of a whitewash that is, here is the 3 most frequent scorelines in football:

So obviously, Madrid limped away from this game with their pride in bad shape. It doesn't help that during the game, the guy they recently signed (Kylian Mbappe), who was meant to make their already very strong attacking even stronger, delivered an absolute stinker of a game. Arguably, adding him to the mix has thrown off the carefully balanced Madrid Soup. (You won't hear me complaining! Keep being offside forever, Kylian!)

And then we get to Monday. Monday was the Football Awards Ceremony for the previous season (seasons run from mid august through to late may, with the big international tournaments like the world cup and regional ones like the Euros or the Copa America taking place in june-july).

Now there's an award called the ballon d'or (lit. the golden ball) that is given to the best player of the previous season. It is voted on by journalists from all the UEFA member states, and there's criteria they have to consider when casting their vote. Obviously, there's been dubious decisions in the past, such as the year UEFA decided the 22 world cup should be counted in the 2023 award to then give Messi his 8th ballon d'or (let it never be said that I am not aware of when calls are made to benefit my club or the players I like).

Anyway, several of Madrid's players, including Vinicious Jr. were up for consideration for this award. Vini was in wonderful form last season, and deserved to be in contention for the award. I will say that much. But then starts the embarrassing behaviour.

Monday morning, Vini & Madrid announced they wouldn't be going to the awards ceremony. There had been whispers that the person who would win the ballon d'or was Rodri, a midfielder for Manchester city and Spain, who won the english premier league, and the euros in this past season.

Here's a summary of all the silly behaviour in Madrid's camp, summarised by the Athletic:

Anyway, to me, considering everything, considering Madrid's general history and cosyness to power, and how they handle their players, this is both insanely boneheaded and spoilt behaviour, and the funniest thing they could have done.

I hope that sums things up, and if you have more follow up questions, please feel free to ask.

[kiwicider]

banana split - peter parker

pairing: tasm!peter parker x gn!reader

synopsis: peter will always be your voice of reason

word count: 723

warnings: kissing, tiny bit of angst. the spider-man brainrot is so bad i had to get this out while i write other stuff (for a diff… spider-man)</3

The cement steps in front of your apartment building felt warm, the small stones and bumps imprinting themselves onto your skin in a pattern. Peter stood a few feet away, conversing with the ice cream man as he prepared a chocolate cone and banana split, laughing loudly at a story the man recalled with a smile.

A shadow flashed over his face from the blinking lights of the ice cream truck, plum-colored bruises littering the expanse of his jaw and tops of his cheekbones. A thin, scabbed over cut ran across his nose, almost hidden by the frame of his glasses. Despite the minimal light and his injuries, he had never looked better to you.

Peter walked back with full hands, the off-white laces of his beat up Nikes in view. “Here, I told him to add whipped cream to yours,” he said, bumping into you as he sat down.

You scooped up a combination of vanilla and strawberry onto the spoon, wiping the excess on the side. “Thanks Pete,” you mumbled through a mouthful of ice cream, wiping at the corner of your lips.

A small crowd of younger kids formed by the truck, handing their money through the window in exchange for popsicles of cartoon characters. You couldn’t help the way your lips quirked up at the sight of them, the scene reminiscent of a childhood spent with Peter by your side.

“Remember when we were that small?” you asked softly, motioning towards the kids with your head.

Peter nodded, licking around his scoop of chocolate. “I used to beg May to give me a couple extra bucks so I could buy you something too,” he replied with a laugh. “It’s hard to come up with money at eight years old, the tooth fairy can only do so much.”

You snorted at the memory, thinking back to a bright eyed Peter showing you the crumpled dollar bills and quarters he’d gotten from Aunt May to buy your banana split. The two of you could barely reach the window, struggling to place your money on the small piece of plywood that acted as a counter.

He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your temple, his lips sticky but soft. “It’s been almost fifteen years and your order hasn’t changed.”

A smile pulled your lips upward and you nodded, glancing up at him. Up close, you could see his bruises clearly, the marks a nasty contrast against his fair skin. He noticed the way your face faltered the more you stared, your fingers reaching up to skim his cheek.

You spoke after a pause. “A lot has though, right?”

Peter could hear the shift in your voice, worry showcasing itself in the way your body melded with his, as if sticking to his side like gum would keep him around forever. He brought his hand up to the small of your back, holding you steady.

“Yeah, but we’ve stuck together,” he murmured into your hair, the scent of your lavender shampoo mixing in with cigarette smoke coming from a neighbor. “That's all that matters, right?”

You nodded. “Sure, but I can’t help but wish things were different sometimes. Not with us, necessarily, just—”

Peter cut you off. “The spider thing?”

“Yeah,” you replied with a dry laugh, pushing the ice cream around with your spoon. “To wish for that, even when you help so many people… it’s selfish, isn’t it?”

“Not selfish,” the brunette countered. “You worry and so do I, even if I won’t admit it all the time. It’s normal”

“Right, sure, I guess it is normal.”

“You don't have to worry,” he reassured you. “I’ve got you, always.” Peter leaned over and peppered kisses around your face, eliciting a dulcet laugh that lightened his mood. “We won’t always have it figured out, sweetheart, but we’re meant to stick together.”

You nodded and grinned when he pulled you closer to him, his hand curling up against your waist. The feeling of his warm palm on your skin washed a wave of comfort over you, crawling up your limbs and nestling deep in your body. Sounds of chattering and bells on bicycles ringing floated around the night air, and whatever uneasiness you felt earlier was gone now.

If Peter could be anything to you, he’d always be your voice of reason.

© 2023 KIWICIDER - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, modify, repost, or claim as yours.

[barry-j-blupjeans]

Arcade Carpet and Totally Chill, Nothing Can Prove Otherwise with Dealer's Choice :3

object + emotion prompt list here! send some in!

18. Arcade carpet

4. Totally Chill, Nothing Can Prove Otherwise

--

"Sir," said the tiny fancy boy at the prize counter, "are you using wizardly magicks to make the funky fresh carpet pattern into penises?"

The air was rich with the smell of sweat and obtrusively smelling cleaning products. Taako had been on shift for exactly four hours so far and it was not getting any better. It wasn't getting any worse, either, but who could say what would come next? The lights were just as flashy and headache-y as usual. Taako had snuck to the sound booth (read: the computer that controlled all the music that had a neon label that said SOUND BOOTH) and lowered the music to a reasonable level, but some godly power had turned it right back up.

Honestly, who could blame him for having a little fun? The worst day at a children's arcade was better than the best day at a court-ordered anger management class. Or however that saying went. He usually wouldn't revert to messing with the decor until about five hours into his shift, but he was feeling a little spicy today.

Plus, it's not like anyone could prove it was him.

"Nah," Taako said, leaning against the counter. "It's always been like that."

"It— it hasn't," the fancy boy says. He's got a light-up wand that he got from Taako's counter earlier. He'd been in here for an hour or so already, methodically going around the building and figuring out how to get the most tickets. He'd already come up to Taako four times to ask about game mechanics. "It was triangles and circles before."

"Mmmmh, nope," Taako said. "It's always been dicks."

The fancy boy frowned, looking at the carpet again. He took a few steps back towards the gaming area and then stopped.

"No, sir, it stops here," he said. "It's— it's very clearly not penises from this point onward— oh, well, now this is just rude, sir."

The floor magicked back to normal, except for about a two-foot circle around the fancy boy. When he took a step, the far superior, expertly crafted pattern followed him like a shadow. He scurried back up to the prize counter, a scrutinizing look on his face. He then glanced over his shoulder, as if someone might be watching their interaction. Honestly, Taako figured that if someone was spying and able to hear over the suddenly deep chorus of Fireflies by Fantasy Owl City, they deserved to hear every word.

But the fancy boy seemed to think the coast was clear. He leaned over the counter and said, in a low voice,

"Is magic not banned in here?"

"Read the sign, kid," Taako said, pointing the the sign above his head that read "NO MAGICKS ALLOWED IN THE ADVENTURE ZONE©." In smaller text, below it, it read, "for full Adventure Zone© magic related rules and services, please see one of our friendly PARTY MEMBERS for details."

"Yeah, but you just did magic," the fancy boy said. "So there's no like, barrier or runes to stop magic use inside the building."

Taako liked the turn this was taking. He raised his eyebrows at the fancy boy.

"You could say," he said. "And why, pray tell, are you asking?"

"Well," the fancy boy said. "If I pay the games the normal, non-magical way, it'll take me approximately nine hours to get enough tickets for the detective kit you have on the wall."

The fancy boy pointed at the wall of prizes. Near the very top, above the long plush snakes and the bin of Hot Wheels, a shiny play-pretend detectives kit was sitting, priced at 14,000 tickets, which was truly absurd.

"Only, I don't have nine hours, sir," the fancy boy said. "And frankly, I don't have the pocket money for five hours. So if, maybe, we could turn a blind eye to the rule— which seems very important and I respect that— then I could be out of here in about, uhm! Thirty minutes, tops. And then you don't have to deal with me and the birthday party that's about to start."

Both of them looked at the mom trying to wrangle her excited child through the doorway. The child had a pin on that said "BIRTHDAY GIRL". She looked like a feral cat.

"That's a tempting offer, little man," Taako said. He glanced around. No one was gonna come up to the prize counter any time soon. These kids were too sugar-powered to care about anything more than beating each other in stupid arcade games for babies. "You get me one of those fucked up bears—" Taako pointed at the wall behind him once more. Slightly below the detective kit was a poor attempt at a teddy bear, which looked more like a failed demon exorcism. "And we've got a deal."

"Deal," the fancy boy said, holding out his hand. "It's nice doing business with you Mr…" he squinted at Taako's name tag. "Tay-co?"

"You never pronounce my name like that again and we're good to go, kid."