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All bets are off
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When unions are outlawed, only outlaws will have unions. Unions don't owe their existence to labor laws that protect organizing activities. Rather, labor laws exist because once-illegal unions were formed in the teeth of violent suppression, and those unions demanded – and got – labor law.
Bosses have hated unions since the start, and they've really hated laws protecting workers. Dress this up in whatever self-serving rationale you want – "the freedom to contract," or "meritocracy" – it all cashes out to this: when workers bargain collectively, value that would otherwise go to investors and executives goes to the workers.
I'm not just talking about wages here, either. If an employer is forced – by a union, or by a labor law that only exists because of union militancy – to operate a safe workplace, they have to spend money on things like fire suppression, PPE, and paid breaks to avoid repetitive strain injuries. In the absence of some force that corrals bosses into providing these safety measures, they can use that money to pay themselves, and externalize the cost of on-the-job injuries to their workers.
The cost and price of a good or service is the tangible expression of power. It is a matter of politics, not economics. If consumer protection agencies demand that companies provide safe, well-manufactured goods, if there are prohibitions on price-fixing and profiteering, then value shifts from the corporation to its customers.
Now, if labor has few rights and consumers have many rights, then bosses can pass their consumer-side losses on to their workers. This is the Walmart story, the Amazon story: cheap goods paid for with low wages and dangerous working conditions. Likewise, if consumer rights are weak but labor rights are strong, then bosses can pass their costs onto their customers, continuing to take high profits by charging more. This is the story of local gig-work ordinances like NYC's, which guaranteed a minimum wage to delivery drivers – restaurateurs responded by demanding the right to add a surcharge to their bills:
https://table.skift.com/2018/06/22/nyc-surcharge-debate/
But if labor and consumer groups act in solidarity, then they can operate as a bloc and bosses and investors have to eat shit. Back in 2017, the pilots' union for American Airlines forced their bosses into a raise. Wall Street freaked out and tanked AA's stock. Analysts for big banks were outraged. Citi's Kevin Crissey summed up the situation perfectly, in a fuming memo: "This is frustrating. Labor is being paid first again. Shareholders get leftovers":
https://www.vox.com/new-money/2017/4/29/15471634/american-airlines-raise
Limiting the wealth of the investor class also limits their power, because money translates pretty directly into political power. This sets up a virtuous cycle: the less money the investor class has to spend on political projects, the more space there is for consumer- and labor-protection laws to be enacted and enforced. As labor and consumer law gets more stringent, the share of the national income going to people who make things, and people who use the things they make, goes up – and the share going to people who own things goes down.
Seen this way, it's obvious that prices and wages are a political matter, not an "economic" one. Orthodox economists maintain the pretense that they practice a kind of physics of money, discovering the "natural," "empirical" way that prices and wages move. They dress this up with mumbo-jumbo like the "efficient market hypothesis," "price discovery," "public choice," and that old favorite, "trickle-down theory." Strip away the doublespeak and it boils down to this: "Actually, your boss is right. He does deserve more of the value than you do":
https://pluralistic.net/2024/09/09/low-wage-100/#executive-excess
Even if you've been suckered by the lie that bosses have a legal "fiduciary duty" to maximize shareholder returns (this is a myth, by the way – no such law exists), it doesn't follow that customers or workers share that fiduciary duty. As a customer, you are not legally obliged to arrange your affairs to maximize the dividends paid by to investors in your corporate landlord or by the merchants you patronize. As a worker, you are under no legal obligation to consider shareholders' interests when you bargain for wages, benefits and working conditions.
The "fiduciary duty" lie is another instance of politics masquerading as economics: even if bosses bargain for as big a slice of the pie as they can get, the size of that slice is determined by the relative power of bosses, customers and workers.
This is why bosses hate unions. It's why the scab presidency of Donald Trump has waged all-out war on unions. Trump just effectively shuttered the National Labor Relations Board, unilaterally halting its enforcement actions and investigations. He also illegally fired one of the Democratic NLRB board members, leaving the agency with too few board members to take any new actions, meaning that no unions can be recognized – indeed, the NLRB can't do anything – for the foreseeable future:
https://www.npr.org/2025/01/28/nx-s1-5277103/nlrb-trump-wilcox-abruzzo-democrats-labor
Trump also fired the NLRB's outstanding General Counsel, Jennifer Abruzzo, who was one of the stars of the Biden administration, who promulgated rules that decisively tilted the balance in favor of labor:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/06/goons-ginks-and-company-finks/#if-blood-be-the-price-of-your-cursed-wealth
Trump is playing Grinch here – he's descended upon Whoville to take all the Christmas decorations, in the belief that these are the source of Christmas. But the Grinch was wrong (and so is Trump): Christmas was in the heart of the Whos, and the tinsel and baubles were the expression of that Christmas spirit. Likewise, labor rights come from labor organizing, not the other way around.
Labor rights were enshrined in federal law in 1935, with the National Labor Relations Act. Bosses hated – and hate – the NLRA. 12 years later, they passed the Taft-Hartley Act, which substantially gutted the NLRA. Most notably, Taft-Hartley bans "sympathy strikes" – when unions walk out in support of one another. Sympathy strikes are a hugely powerful way for workers to claim value away from bosses and investors, which is why bosses got rid of them.
But even then, bosses who were honest with themselves would admit that they preferred life under the NLRA to life before it. Remember: labor militancy created the NLRA, not the other way around. When workers didn't have the legal means to organize, they organized by illegal means. When they didn't have legal ways of striking, they struck illegally. The result was pitched battles, even bloodbaths, as cops beat and even killed labor organizers. Bosses hired thugs who committed mass murder – literally. In 1913, strikebreakers working for the Calumet and Hecla Mining Company started a stampede during a union Christmas party that killed 73 people, including many copper miners' children:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Italian_Hall_disaster
Workers didn't take this lying down. Violence was met with violence. Bombs went off outside factories and stately mansions. There was gunfire and arson. Bosses had to hire armed guards to escort them as they scurried between their estates and their fancy parties and their executive offices. The country was in a state of near-perpetual chaos.
The NLRA created a set of rules for labor/boss negotiations – rules that helped workers claim a bigger slice of the pie without blood in the streets. But the NLRA also had benefits for bosses: unions were obliged to play by its rules, if they wanted to reap its benefits. The NLRA didn't just put a ceiling over boss power – it also put a ceiling over worker militancy. Von Clausewitz says that "war is politics by other means," which implies that politics are war by other means. The alternative to politics isn't capitulation, it's war.
Trump has torn up the rules to the labor game, but that doesn't mean the game ends. That just means there are no rules.
The labor movement has many great organizer/writers, but few can match the incredible Jane McAlevey, who died of cancer last summer (rest in power). In her classic A Collective Bargain, McAlevey describes her organizer training, from a tradition that went back to the days before the National Labor Relations Act:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/23/a-collective-bargain/
McAlevey was very clear that labor law owes its existence to union power, not the other way around. She explains very clearly that union organizers invented labor law after they invented unions, and that unions can (and indeed, must) exist separately from government agencies that are charged with protecting labor law. But she goes farther: in Collective Bargain, McAlevey describes how the 2019 LA Teachers' Strike didn't just win all the wage and benefits demands of the teachers, but also got the school district to promise to put a park or playground near every school in the system, and got a ban on ICE agents harassing parents at the school gates.
This wildly successful strike forged bonds among teachers, and between teachers and their communities. These teachers went on to run a political get-out-the-vote campaign in the 2020 elections and elected two Democratic reps to Congress and secured the Dems' majority. McAlevey contrasted the active way good unions involve workers as participants with the thin, anemic way that the Democratic Party engages with supporters – solely by asking them for money in a stream of frothing, clickbait text messages. As McAlevey wrote, "Workplace democracy is a training ground for true national democracy."
Militant labor doesn't just protect labor rights – it protects human rights. Remember: MLK, Jr was assassinated while campaigning for union janitors in Memphis. LA teachers ended ICE sweeps at the school gates. Librarian unions are leading the fight against book bans.
The good news is that public opinion has swung wildly in favor of unions over the past decade. More people want to join unions than at any time in generations. More people support unions that at any time in generations.
The bad news is that union leadership fucking suuuuuuuucks. As Hamilton Nolan writes, union bosses are sitting on vast, heretofore unseen warchests of cash, and they just experienced a four-year period of governmental support for unions unheard of since the Carter administration, and they did fuck all with that opportunity:
https://www.hamiltonnolan.com/p/confirmed-unions-squandered-the-biden
Big unions have effectively stopped trying to organize new workers, even when workers beg them for help forming a union. Union organizing budgets are so small as to be indistinguishable from zero. Despite the record number of workers who want to be in a union, the number of workers who are in a union actually fell during the Biden years.
Indeed, some union bosses actually campaigned for Trump, a notorious scab. Teamsters boss Sean O'Brien spoke at the fucking RNC, a political favor that Trump repaid by killing the NLRB and every labor enforcement action and investigation in the country. Nice one, O'Brien. See you in hell:
https://www.theatlantic.com/politics/archive/2024/08/teamster-union-trump/679513/
Union bosses squandered a historical opportunity to build countervailing power. Now, Trump's stormtroopers are rounding up workers with the goal of illegally deporting them. Fascism is on the rise. Labor and fascism are archenemies. Organized labor has always been the biggest threat to fascism, every time it has reared its head. That's why fascists target unions first. Union bosses cost us an organized force that could effectively defend our friends and neighbors from Trump's deportation stormtroopers:
https://prospect.org/blogs-and-newsletters/tap/2025-01-28-trumps-lawbreaking-also-aimed-at-workers/
Not every union boss is a scab like O'Brien. Shawn Fain, head of the UAW, won an historic strike against all three of the Big Three automakers, and made sure that the new contracts all ran out in 2028, and called on other unions to do the same, so that the country could have a general strike in 2028 without violating the Taft-Hartley Act (Fain was operating on the now-dead assumption that unions had to play by the rules):
https://pluralistic.net/2024/11/11/rip-jane-mcalevey/#organize
A general strike isn't just a strike for workers' rights. Under Trump, a general strike is a strike against Trumpism and all its horrors: kids in cages, forced birth, trans erasure, climate accelerationism – the whole fucking thing.
A general strike would build the worker power to occupy the Democratic Party and force it to stand up for the American people against oligarchy, rather than meekly capitulating to fascism (and fundraising), which is all they know how to do anymore:
https://pluralistic.net/2025/01/10/smoke-filled-room-where-it-happens/#dinosaurs
But before we can occupy the Dems, we have to occupy the unions. We need union bosses who are committed to signing up every worker who wants workplace democracy, and unionizing every workplace in spite of the NLRB, not with its help. We need to go back to our roots, when there were no rules.
That's the world Trump made. We need to make him regret that decision.
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If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2025/01/29/which-side-are-you-on/#strike-three-yer-out
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ninamodaffari · 1 day ago
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hey artists I just wanna say something that I kinda wish someone had told me when I was struggling to find a job related to art.
It's okay to get a non-art related job.
Like seriously, you aren't a failure if you do. I remember thinking I would be but it is such a fucking tumultuous time right now (especially with game dev) that honest to God I wish I'd also taken a trade skill alongside my art. People will always need electricians, HVAC, welders, mechanics.
obviously you can still do your art on the side - take commissions, contracts, etc. I want to emphasize that often with art related jobs you will LOSE THE DESIRE TO DRAW AFTER WORK IS DONE FOR THE DAY. it's exhausting. Fulfilling? Most times, but there will be a lot of bureaucratic nonsense that leaves you feeling dead tired and just wanting to space out after work.
I didn't realize this when I first became a fulltime concept artist. I genuinely thought I'd have the energy after drawing all day to....draw all day after work. I hardly do. I usually want to mellow out with a videogame or do something mundane like the dishes or cleaning. It's exhausting.
Anyways this ramble was prompted (specifically) because I know how hard it is to get art jobs right now. Especially with game dev, I will say very plainly that it is a very rocky time within the industry with layoffs happening left and right. I've known people who get hired and laid off within the same month.
So don't feel bad for not doing it fulltime. It can stay your passion hobby and still be worthwhile.
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maidenvault · 1 day ago
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Wow this is getting a lot of notes. And thinking about a lot of the comments/tags, I would add that I think this is one way it gets messy that fandom is a space for both media analysis and transformative works even though those two things don’t always co-exist comfortably or necessarily serve each other.
The overwhelming trend of fanfic as an art form is taking stories from any genre and basically flattening them into familiar conventions of romance with a pairing you like at the center, because you usually don’t get the explicit sex or total focus on romance in canon and it’s fun and interesting. Obviously that doesn’t describe all fanfic, or even all fics centered on ships, but it’s been a big part of fanfic culture for the many decades it’s been around. And obviously approaching the source material that way, or even just half-consciously always wearing your slash goggles, is not necessarily congruent with doing sound analysis of its themes and characterization.
At some point fandom got a higher opinion of itself as being important because fanfic serves an under-served audience, because you can find basically any kind of representation you want in fanfiction by just filtering by a tag. But then when people’s problematic biases show and fandom so often isn’t this super progressive space it pretends to be, fans have the excuse that this isn’t serious, it’s just porn, I write what is hot to me and I’m not gonna write a ship I don’t feel drawn to that way, what do you want?
And generally, in theory, that’s totally fair. If you’re truly just here to have fun with your kinky readerfic and don’t care whether your way of writing a character is supported by any evidence in canon, whatever. But it’s also often a conversation stopper, and fandom (at least on places like tumblr) is also a space for discussing the meaning of things in the source material. I don’t know if I have a main point here or an answer. But it’s a dissonance I wish fan communities were more aware of.
With David Lynch having just passed, this feels like a good time to share this classic piece on Mulholland Drive for anyone who hasn’t read this analysis. Lynch was famously reluctant to explain the meaning of his more surreal films, which obviously lend themselves to wildly different interpretations, which makes this movie a great example for Film Crit Hulk to explain in this what is actually needed to build a strong argument for your take on a subjective work of art.
Not “Only my reading of canon is correct” or “Interpretations are subjective and all valid” but a secret third thing, “More than one interpretation can be valid but there’s a reason your English teacher had you cite quotes and examples in your papers, you have to have a strong argument that your interpretation is actually supported by the text or it is just wrong and I’m fine with telling you it’s wrong, actually.”
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solarmorrigan · 20 hours ago
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Steve knows how to take care of himself. He's good at it. He's been doing it for years
Illnesses, sports injuries (other injuries) - he knows how to manage them so they'll go away as quickly as possible. He knows when he needs to rest, he knows when he needs to take medication, he knows how to care for pulled muscles and broken skin. Maybe he doesn't always have the opportunity to care for these things properly, but he knows how, because with no one else around, he'd had to learn
Eventually, he gets it down to a routine. A science, almost. An airtight series of steps for whatever is wrong with him so he can knock out whatever crud is keeping him down and move on with his life
There isn't really room for anyone else in it
"You want me to do that?" Eddie asks, watching as Steve stirs a pot of soup on the stove.
"'m good," Steve answers with an absent sniffle.
Eddie hums. "Well, do you need me to go out and get anything? More tissues, cough medicine, more soup...?"
Steve shakes his head, though he stops when it brings on a wave of dizziness. He braces himself against the counter, waving Eddie off when he steps forward to try to support Steve. It's really just a little cold, but the congestion is killing him.
"I've got everything I need," Steve finally says; he always makes sure the medicine cabinet is stocked for this sort of thing, replenishes anything in there as soon as he uses it up, just in case. "Thanks, though."
Eddie is quiet for a long moment. "So you, uh... don't need me for anything, then?"
"Nah, it's fine. Just gonna eat my soup and get some rest," Steve assures him. "You should go enjoy your day."
"Right," Eddie says, sounding weirdly flat. "I'll just. Go do that. I guess."
He disappears into the spare room (ostensibly a guest room, but it's also become a space for all of Eddie's D&D and music stuff, and Steve has jokingly taken to referring to it as Eddie's office), and Steve finishes heating his soup with a little puzzlement. Something is up with Eddie, but Steve is too worn out to figure out what.
He eats his soup and goes back to bed, but it isn't until he's been lying there, exhausted but restless, for almost an hour that it occurs to him what's wrong. He plays back over the conversation in the kitchen and feels a little stupid for not catching on sooner.
He can hear Eddie strumming absently at his acoustic when he goes to knock on the door of the spare room. The sound stops and Eddie opens the door, looking almost surprised to see Steve.
"Yeah?" he asks.
"Hey. I, uh - I'm trying to rest, but I just... can't, for some reason." Steve shrugs. "I think maybe I need some company?"
"Yeah?" Eddie asks again, his voice warming a little.
"Yeah. I mean, if you're not busy, or--"
"Free as a bird, baby," Eddie says quickly, reaching out to take Steve by the hand. "Let's get you back to bed."
Eddie takes to his task with gusto, making sure Steve has all the pillows and blankets that he needs, dimming the lights, even offering to read a book. And it's - it's nice, Steve realizes.
It's nice, having Eddie there, giving Steve the one thing he's never really had before.
It's nice to have support.
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neocrias · 1 day ago
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Heeeeey I was wondering if you could do SVT when they move in with you?
Hey!! So sorry for taking so long, we were quite packed with work (we're happily on a break rn!) Let us know if that's what you wanted!
Seventeen moving in with you
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warnings: descriptions; headcanons; gn (mostly) reader self insert;
pairings: svt x gn reader
gender/aus: fluff; slightly suggestive
Scoups
He does not move in with you, instead, he'll make you live with him.
In the first weeks, he might have some difficulty adapting to someone else in his house (he won't say a thing though, even if you leave fingerprints on his flawless fridge surface or decide to keep your underwear in a drawer that's clearly for t-shirts). He just hates the idea of leaving you uncomfortable in what's supposed to be your house too now.
And then he'll see you cutely sleeping on your new shared bed every morning before going to work and all of that's forgotten. It's worth it anyway. He’ll look at you with the biggest dreamy eyes, taking in your carefree and slightly messy state and feel so at home - and suddenly there’s nothing he wants to complain about.
As you lay your feet by the coffee table, Seungcheol’s eyes seem to widen, but he inhales deeply, trying not to think much about it. His skilful hands slowly snake around your legs, softly moving them to his own lap, patting the skin with a small grin. As you smile back at him, satisfied with the romantic gesture, he sighs lowly in relief, looking back and forth between you and the now free coffee table.
Jeonghan
Moves in with you after making you insist for months (he actually has been wanting that for a long while but wanted you to beg before he eventually did it).
The moment he steps into your now shared apartment, he'll feel instantly at home. So yes, he WILL absolutely take your things off their places to put his without any ceremony.
During the first weeks, he might play some tricks and pranks, hiding away your things just to have you looking around for them (he thinks it's adorable).
His total absolute weakness is when you cook. He gets giggly and happy and could admire you for hours while you cook in your kitchen, he's just a simp for the domesticity of it and loves that you're taking care of you both.
“Hannie, have you seen my heart-shaped earrings? I could’ve sworn I left them in the dresser!” You look out carefully through the furniture, grabbing your hair in frustration and sighing.
Joshua:
“Heart-shaped earrings? I might have seen them somewhere, but I just can’t remember where…” He smiles mischievously, admiring the way you’re leaning to search for them so exasperated as he fidgets with your earrings in his hand
He’s the one who asks you to live with him during a special moment between you too - in a certain way, he was trying to be romantic, but he also really wanted to leave the dorms anyways (lol).
As soon as you both set in, he tries to show you exactly how he usually does things, so that you won’t be lost or confused (also because he just really has his own routine and habits and can be quite methodical :p)
He’s got his own space in the house, full of plants, pottery, etc. It’s where he usually goes when he wants some time to think - and yes, he’ll totally encourage you to use it too or maybe set up your own little space.
Hear me out: SCENTED CANDLES. Those are his best friends, and he’ll surely have one for each special moment. You’re cooking together? He’ll light the tangerine and sandalwood one; Cuddling? Jasmine and vanilla; Making out? Pomegranate and red pepper coming right away.
Overall just loves being close to you on a daily basis so that he can take care of you and all your needs. Plus, he's sooo organized and clean. Everything is always in order and smelling good in your house.
“Are you good, darling?” He asks, seeing you curled up on the couch.
“Just migraines…” You shrug it off. Joshua looks at you worried, but also full of determination to help you.
Jun:
“Hey, I’ve seen this new massage method for that, let me take care of you…” He says before pulling you closer with the most tender smile. “I can make you some tea too.”
He’ll be slightly confused during the first weeks. The first time he sees underwear that’s not his in the dryer, he might go “?” for a couple of seconds before letting out a “Ahh, true, true” with a relieved sigh and a small smile, going back to whatever he was doing.
Will absolutely take some souvenirs and small memoirs from the sets of his dramas and movies to your house, displaying them proudly - and as you start setting in, he’ll cautiously ask if you don’t want to display some things from your own hobbies as well, just to make sure you’re also feeling at home. 
Jun will absolutely cook a whole home-made dinner the day you move in with him. Just the two of you, the boxes of your belongings all around and a boiling bowl on the dinner table as he eyes you expectantly and adoringly, waiting for you to taste the food he took so effort on, even if he won’t exactly admit that. 
“ The recipe kind of asked for green onions, but I didn’t put them in…” He shrugs, tasting the stew while giving you a side glance, as if waiting for your reaction.
“Oh, because I don’t like them? You remembered it?” You ask back, smiling thankfully as Jun’s eyes light up, half pride and half loving.
Hoshi:
“Of course, since I’ll be cooking for you a lot more from now on…”
His eyes will literally sparkle the moment you mention anything remotely close to “living together” and then that’ll literally turn into his life mission. He’ll come up with this all the time until you finally decide to move in with him (he’ll be so enthusiastic when that day comes).
Like, what do you mean he’ll be able to annoy you and banter with you 24/7? That’s a “yes” for him, thank you very much. He also just likes the concept of seeing you in all natural states possible way too much. 
Similar to Jeonghan, he will also be very comfortable with the situation the moment you set in. His brain won’t take much to process that now your things are also his and his things are also yours, so he will be using and touching whatever he sees through the house as if it’s always been there in the first place.
One of his favorite things to do will be definitely coming up with a speaking voice for his dog, using it to communicate with you playfully when he wants something.
“Oh someone’s in a bad mood, right dad?” Hoshi coos, holding poor Latte on the level of his head, facing you.
“Really, Soonyoung, this is not the time to play around.” You answer, trying to remain serious.
“But mom, dad swears he didn’t do it on purpose when he forgot to separate the colored and white clothes on the washing machine!” He whines again in a high-pitch voice, shaking Latte slightly
Wonwoo:
“Damn…Fine, but just because you’re way too cute…” You mutter, sighing and scooting closer. Hoshi hands Latte in your direction, expecting her to lick your face, but you surprise him as you dodge the dog, going straight for his own lips.
You’ll be the first one to suggest moving in, but it isn’t as if he hadn’t already thought about the idea. Quite a lot, actually.
Wonwoo might worry to get you extremely comfortable in his home, knowing that his own habits might not be the most fit for you, but still trying to accommodate your own routines together. He’ll constantly ask you if you need anything before he dozes off to his room to play, and he’ll make sure he organizes his stuff properly before you move in so that you’ll have a lot of space to junk your stuff in.
Despite being slightly nervous when you first started moving in, in a few weeks he will realize that really, it’s all fine. You’ll be in the living room doing whatever it is that you want while he games the evening away, and that’ll take much less to worry than he previously thought it would.
“What about ordering some pizza?” You suggest, head laying on Wonwoo’s lap, eyes not leaving the sight of the book in your hands. You sense your boyfriend adjusting himself slightly before answering, his eyes not leaving his own book either.
Woozi:
“Sounds good to me. I’ll get it delivered for us.” He mutters, finally closing his book to grab his phone, taking a quick glance at your focused look below him, a soft smile threatening to break on his lips as he sighs in contentment.
The second you accept moving in with him, he’ll be arranging space in his indoor gym for you to put whatever you want in there; after all, if he’s not working, he’ll probably be working out in there, and he’d love to have you in the same room, doing what fits you best.
Despites that, he’ll make sure that you both have your two separate spaces in the house; maybe different bathrooms and different wardrobes. The thing is, he’s so busy, and his things can get dirty, but he doesn’t want to burden you with that. Solution? He dirties his own bathroom, and you can enjoy your own clean and pretty one.
I also feel like he might have a very minimalistic, and empty place, not much furnished or decorated, so he’ll love it when you start making yourself at home, hanging over small decorations or pictures on the wall. It’ll make him feel more cozy, and surrounded by you.
During the first days, he might be making some jokes and puns about you living together with him, but during the second week he’ll be already used to it as if you guys have been living together for years now. 
DK:
“Babe, can you get me my headphones in my bedroom?” He asks cautiously as he sees you moving in that direction, before cracking up a small smile in realization “Oops, I mean our bedroom”. You nod, leaving the room, listening to him chuckling softly by himself at his own little comment.
He’s so thrilled by the idea of living together he might as well just move to your house, plus, he doesn’t want you to pass through the burden of having to move all your stuff.
Literally sooo excited about it, he’s another one to cook you a “welcome to the living-together life” dinner, as he clumsily adjusts himself to the placement of things in your kitchen. He’ll bump into some stuff and search for utensils he literally just placed away before smiling sheepishly at you, promising that dinner’s going to be ready as soon as he gets to understand your kitchen’s layout. 
In the first days, he’ll be so cautious not to disrupt the organization of your house, always asking whether he can set his things where he wants to, or asking politely where do you keep the toilet paper, or the cleaning supplies.
But he’ll soon have your whole house all mapped out in his mind, and as soon as you realize, you’ll be the one asking him where the things are (lol).
He’ll take sooo good care of your shared house. He’ll preserve it and happily do the chores, knowing that he’s simply letting your own little space more cozy for you both to enjoy. 
“Hey, love, sorry to ask again…but can I use that smaller pan that’s in the oven?” He shyly asks, hoping to cook you both a meal.
“Dokyeom, for god’s sake, it’s your house too. Of course you can use it.” You smile back at him, trying to reassure him for the nth time this week. 
Mingyu:
“Oh, that’s true…” He chuckles sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck as his cheeks flush to the sound of your words “I keep on forgetting that”
He’d happily move in with you, but you decide to go to his house and he just accepts it. Be prepared not to move an inch during moving day - he’ll carry all your boxes, suitcases and basically anything you want to shove into his apartment. 
Mingyu will also help you place every single one of your belongings, making sure that you get to decide where you want your things to be, but at the same time having some control over the changes in his own space. He’ll explain to you where things are so thoroughly that you’ll never have trouble finding anything.
He’s very likely to have a sappy moment while glancing at your toothbrushes together by the sink, internally loving the way your personal belongings are now sharing the same space (and so are you!)
“Okay, let’s order something to eat, baby” He sits down exhausted, sweating slightly after spending the whole day unpacking your stuff around.
“Oh, but I thought you would…cook for us. Like you always do.” You admit shyly, naturally expecting your top-chef boyfriend to serve you your very first domestic scene together.
Minghao:
“I will, baby, everyday, don’t worry about that.” He winks playfully. “But today I’m spent…” He sighs and you laugh softly, appreciating Mingyu’s pouty face.
I feel like Minghao is likely to ask you both to move together, so that you two can decide where you want to live, how the apartment will look like, how to organize it, etc.
And he’ll have MANY opinions, don’t doubt it. Minghao wants his home to look like a home, to display both yours and his personality on the walls (and if it depends on him, your apartment is going to be super sophisticated and elegant, damn you for being so aesthetically aware Xu Minghao!)
He’s also very organized and totally in favor of you having your own personal spaces to unwind. 
One of his favorite things about living together is getting to share his quiet hobbies with someone else, more specifically things that he could do by himself, but that could be much more pleasant if you were by his side - such as having tea ceremonies, painting, reading or just watching a movie.
Seungkwan:
“Darling, I’m going to meditate for a while, so if you could turn the TV volume down a little, please…” He asks politely, head peeking at the bedroom door frame. As you nod readily, Minghao stops to think a little, looking at you again with a gentle smile. “Actually, would you like to join me?”
If he's the one moving in with you, he'll judge the way you do things in your house (like what do you mean you keep your underwear in the second drawer of the dresser!? everyone knows it's supposed to be kept on the first one!), but if you move in with him, he'll carefully show you all around as if it was a big tour or a tutorial of 'how to live in here' - which might be totally cute 
Will totally make you watch sports with him. It doesn't matter if it's the most obscure sports team playing the most random sport you've ever seen, he'll watch it (and so will you!).
He'll try to explain to you how the game works, but at any hints of questions or doubts he'll either 1- explain to you overly-dramatically as if you were a five y.o or 2- say "nevermind, sweetie, you'll understand it better as the match goes on"
“But Seungkwan....I already know your house, I've been here countless times!” You mutter as he keeps on making a sort of MCing voice to present every corner of his apartment to you. 
Vernon:
“ sHUT UP, so, here's where we keep the toilet paper…”
Guy's a little messy, so when you finally move into his place, he'll try to tone it down for a while. He won't necessarily clean up everything, but he'll probably refrain from, I don't know, leaving his wet towel in the bed. For your sake, at least.
Hansol's said to make tons of online shopping and not even opening them when they arrive, only stocking numerous boxes of trinkets. Well, hear me out, his love language is that when you start living with him, he'll start online shopping for you too! He found something cute online? Totally buying it for you. Don't get too excited though, you'll never see those presents, because as soon as they arrive, they're going to the long pile of unopened deliveries (he probably won't even remember that he bought anything in the first place, but the thought still counts, right?)
I just feel like he also would like to have his own space, even if you're living together, so it won't be strange if you spend the whole afternoon in the bedroom and him in the living room, doing your own things.....but yeah, he will be down to cuddling given the chance, no need to ask twice
“Sollie, what’s this…?” You carefully shake one of the dozens of boxes in your living room. 
Dino:
“Hm…” He ponders. “It might either be a Sponge Bob cutlery set or a pair of flip flops. Not sure.” Hansol murmurs, a little pensative. You roll your eyes, opening the box impatiently only to be surprised by a beautiful and seemingly expensive perfume kit. “Oh, yep, that’s for you.” He smiles softly, taking in the gift he bought a couple of months ago, and had totally forgotten about.
He’s so happy and excited about it, you literally have to stop and tell him that you can’t actually move in together at the spot, but actually plan and organize this stuff.
Chan might just want to get a completely new place for you both. A space that’ll truly be new and fully yours. 
He’ll totally let you decide on most things regarding the new place. Not because he doesn’t care, or because he doesn’t want to work on it, but because he actually wants the whole place to be filled with you and your taste. So yes, just decide it and he’ll make it work.
You will be spoiled. If you ever mention that you like a specific snack, or a fruit, or any type of beverage, you’ll wake up to a fridge dramatically filled with it the next day. 
It’ll only dawn on him that you’re actually living together when he sees you doing something incredibly domestic like cleaning something or walking around in your loungewear, and then his heart WILL flutter, believe me. 
“Woah… I must be really lucky.” He mutters to himself while lazily lying on the couch, seeing you walk around the apartment in your pajamas.
“What did you say?” You call out from the other room.
“Nothing!” Chan calls out back, smiling sheepishly. “Hey! You know we moved in together to spend more time with each other, right? You’ll leave me all by myself all day?” He whines playfully, but with a hint of sincerity as you chuckle to yourself, quickly heading back to your clingy boyfriend in the living room. 
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draggomon · 2 days ago
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This is something I've been working through with my current partner. My therapist referred to me as a "emotional medic".
I would constantly prioritize the safety and boundaries and comfort of EVERYONE else before allowing myself even the barest minimum of self care. I would shut down, constantly, just to keep myself safe.
Any emotions I felt that would be an inconvenience to the people I was with would be shut down and ignored until something broke and I was hurt further.
I developed this after years of being with and around people where, even the most minor of boundary setting or messing up (on either side, them or I) could potentially lead them to huge spirals and multi day long depression / anxiety episodes.
It's something I'm learning to get past. I'm tired of being the medic and I deserve to have people who will give me the benefit of the doubt when I fuck up. Who trust me to act like an adult when they fuck up. Who treat themselves and ME as a adults in an adult relationship.
I remember talking to my therapist about my partner at the time not being an abuser. He was a good guy! Just...anxious....yea?
"You don't have to be a bad person to be an abuser. You're being punished and trained to react in a way that fits him. He can be a good guy and still be taking advantage of you, of manipulating you, of hurting you. Until you stand up, you can't walk the path of healing.
Standing up would inconvenience him, and he has trained you to believe his needs outweighs yours. You need to stand up, or you'll die laying down. "
We deserve better. All of us.
Edit to add some further thinking:
We can all be abusers. You can be an abuser without intending on it. I have a partner, and then I have some people I'm intimate with. I've taken advantage of them before without meaning to. I've manipulated them before without meaning too.
You can't make yourself a safe person to exist around until you make it ok to be confronted and questioned. When my partner or "pseudo partners" come to me saying I made them feel a certain way, then it starts a dialogue.
I call this "coming to the table". I make sure the table I keep is calm. If I need to calm down, I'll leave and do so. I won't punish or minimize, but I also will allow myself space to feel my emotions and share my experiences.
I can hurt one of the people in my circle, and it doesn't make me a bad person. But the fact that I can recognize that hurt, make space for it, and can do so without self punishing or spiraling, means they can focus fully on themselves and what they need. That means it's safe to say no, to say they don't wanna prioritize me. It's safe to say I'm not the only thing keeping them together.
I'm wanted, not needed. Which is scary AF. It also is why our relationships are so strong.
It's not just about your ability to not spiral during the minor things. It's you showing love and care during the dark times, without punishing yourself. It's humanizing and loving yourself even after you've hurt someone, so that they don't have to take care of you or minimize themselves.
It's allowing yourself to be strong enough to realize that you're not powerful enough to ruin someone's life so easily, that you're scared and sometimes you hurt people. That you can still love those people, and loving them means confronting that you hurt them by saying "I hurt you. I love you and didn't mean to. I'd like to make space for your healing, however that looks like. I got me, I won't take it personally. We're still a team."
And you gotta trust them to not lash out. To not use this hurt as an excuse to hurt you. Because when we are afraid, when we feel alone or betrayed, and we feel hurt, we attack th3 thing that hurt us. It's in our nature. We're still animals.
If you can't be fully honest when hurt, then you'll retreat and barriers will start to be built. Once built, it's hard to tear that shit down. Make it so that it's safe for others to be fully honest with you, even when both of you are hurt.
Btw when someone says "don't talk to me like that, I don't know you" the normal thing to do is apologize for the perceived overfamiliarity and correct the behavior. Just in case anyone was wondering
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springismss · 2 days ago
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ᱬ ࣪𖤐 more thoughts of rockstar boyfriend! sukuna who may or may not end up becoming rockstar fiancé! sukuna.
continuation of rockstar! sukuna thoughts.
ageless/minors dni. 18+ content scattered below. f! reader.
as always, reblogs/likes are always appreciated! enjoy! ᱬ ࣪𖤐
links: jjk masterlist | masterlist | part 1
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mdni banner credit - @cafekitsune
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rockstar boyfriend! sukuna who, at every given opportunity, will use samples of you in his music - voice, video, photos? all check. after all, he wants to show you off to the world - especially with photos that leave little to the imagination while protecting your dignity.
rockstar boyfriend! sukuna who has a space for you on his tour bus and vice versa. fuck what his bandmates had to say, he wanted you beside him whenever one of you wasn’t touring.
rockstar boyfriend! sukuna who at every given opportunity will take photos and videos of you, be that of you writing your band's next hit song or when the two of you are cuddled up in bed after fucking, and every moment in between.
rockstar boyfriend! sukuna who, while fucking you in the nastiest positions you could imagine, marks you in a way he knows everyone out there will see. the thought of everyone seeing exactly who you belong to gets him off.
rockstar boyfriend! sukuna who spends more time backstage at your concerts, that much so that it would be considered weird if he wasn’t dating you. not that he would care what those losers would say, he could do whatever the fuck he wanted.
rockstar boyfriend! sukuna who doesn’t show it but he misses you so goddamn much whenever you’re both touring at the same time. he hates spending time apart from you, everything feels so empty.
rockstar boyfriend! sukuna who makes the most of the private album he has on his phone in times like that. an album that’s full of the most dirty pictures and videos of you. that one picture of you looking completely fucked out after he had you in a mating press? that video of his cock sliding in and out of your pussy at an alarming rate? that audio of you moaning out his name as you begged him to let you come? he’s got those and more. after all, he needs to make sure he remembers you in every way possible.
rockstar boyfriend! sukuna who will occasionally video calls you when he’s keeping himself busy just so he can see your reaction when he moans out your name, growling that he’ll be back soon enough and you can make up for all the lost time he’s had to use his hand to pump his cock.
rockstar boyfriend! sukuna who also video calls you when you’re both touring so he can keep you company when you’re feeling a little down being in another country to him. who lets you fall asleep while on call as he knows it’s the only way you’ll get a good sleep and wake up feeling more refreshed. he’s counting down the days until you're back home.
rockstar boyfriend! sukuna who’s waiting for you at the airport for your band to land when your tour finally ended. he said it was purely so he could keep the paparazzi off you but in reality, he wanted to be the first person you saw when you stepped through the doors. big smile on your face as you wrap your arms around him, whispers of how much you've missed him making him smile softly.
rockstar boyfriend! sukuna who, despite your protests, takes you out for a meal that night, being sure to wine and dine you because he missed the fuck out of you. who’s also buttering you up so he can be head first and cock first in between your legs when he gets you back through the front door of his apartment.
rockstar boyfriend! sukuna who might look like someone who doesn’t even know the meaning of the word soft but clearly he does, especially when he has you pinned down under him, thrusts into you soft and slow despite wanting to ruin you again. soft kisses and words as he silences you with kisses. after all, you need to rest your voice after such a long tour. you'll be the only one who will see this side of him, no one else and you love it as much as you love him.
rockstar boyfriend! sukuna who, despite never thinking he’d ever find someone to love cause he truly believed the whole thing was bullshit, cuddles your closer to him, not wanting to let you go. arms wrapped around you and hand stroking your hair as you rested your hand on his chest, feeling the rhythm of his heart, possibly inspiring a new song knowing you.
rockstar boyfriend! sukuna who has to make sure everything is perfect, not being on the stage while planning something this big made him more nervous than he expected. give him a big audience and his bad-boy persona - that was a walk in the park compared to this.
rockstar boyfriend! sukuna who waits for you to come back from shopping before you head over to his place, helping you make some food before you both sit down on the sofa with a notebook in your hand. ideas bouncing off each other as his leg bounced in anxiety. he had to pick the right time.
rockstar boyfriend! sukuna who, at the moment you ask him what should go in this verses last line, blurts out “you gonna marry me or what woman?” before taking in your bewildered expression, eyes wide.
rockstar boyfriend! sukuna who’s suddenly become full blown nervous as he looks at you, throat drying up and heart pounding so erratically it could burst from his chest. who feels like the seconds have begun to drag as he waits for you to respond, that’s if you ever did.
rockstar boyfriend! sukuna who, for probably the first time in his life, becomes deflated and quickly removes his hand from his pocket trying to distract himself, not paying attention to the huge smile on your face before you’re pouncing on top of him with a laugh, arms wrapping around him and you muttered back “I think the new line of the chorus should be of course i’ll marry you, you fucking idiot”.
rockstar boyfriend! sukuna who looks at you confused as you smile brightly, cupping his face and placing a hard kiss on his lips. who’s still as confused as you pull back, thumb rubbing his cheek as you hum out a quick “i said of course i’ll marry you”.
rockstar boyfriend! sukuna who becomes rockstar fiancé! sukuna when he finally slips the ring onto your finger, taking a moment to admire the fact you’re one step closer to not only being with him for the rest of your lives but taking his name as yours.
rockstar fiancé! sukuna who, a few days later, posts to his public insta account for the first time in a good few months, with a photo of you and him, hands up showing off the ring you wore while doing your signature poses with your other hand. “who wouldn’t say no to me? future mrs r.s. coming soon @/itsherduh”.
rockstar fiancé! sukuna who smirks at the comments that ping through his phone as he glances over to you lying on the bed as he snaps a quick photo, this one being posted to his private insta this time with the caption “here’s to the rest of eternity together, my dove”.
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alotofpockets · 7 hours ago
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I want to be with you | Katie McCabe x Arsenal!Reader
5k celebration prompt: “I don’t care what they say, I want to be with you.”
A/n: this contains the red card moment against Chelsea, please remember I'm just writing a fictional version of it.
Woso masterlist | Words: 1.1k
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After playing sixty minutes of the match against Chelsea, you were watching the rest of the match from the bench. With the girls around you, you watched the match intensely. It had been back and forth since the starting whistle.
London derbies against Chelsea were always nice to be a part of, because the level of football was so high. It brought out the best and the worst in people, but you loved it. Now not playing anymore, you were sitting on the edge of your seat, nervously watching the ball constantly switching halves.
Watching from the bench might be even more nerve wracking than being out on the pitch. From down there you aren’t able to make any difference. You tried distracting yourself by chatting to Beth and Lia, but all conversation stopped when Chelsea was reaching the Arsenal box.
You watched Lauren James on the ball, and Kim sliding in to stop her from scoring. The referee instantly pointed to the penalty stop, you couldn’t believe what was happening. From the game being equal to Chelsea now getting the opportunity to score from such a close range. 
But, you didn’t have time to focus on that thought long as you saw Katie speaking to the referee. You saw the yellow card come out, but before it was even lifted, she showed Katie a red card. “I’m sorry, what?” you said speaking your mind before you even realised you were saying it out loud.
You watched Katie walk towards the sidelines, and immediately talk to the fourth referee. All you wanted to do was drag her away to not get in even more trouble than she already was, but you were too far away to do anything.
Luckily one of the staff members had the same idea, and guided her into the tunnel himself. You got up from the bench and made your way into the tunnel yourself. Waiting outside of the locker room to let her have the moment with the trainer.
Once he left the room he nodded to you. You stepped inside and closed the door behind you. She was pacing the room, mumbling to herself when you entered, so you said “Hey.” softly, not wanting to scare her. 
Her head shot up at you. “Why did you follow me in?” She asks as she wipes away a tear. Her tone gave you the feeling that she didn’t want you to be here, so you said, “I just wanted to check on you and be there for you, but I can leave if you want me to.” 
You gave her the choice, not wanting to overstep in any way. “I want you to stay, but I also think you shouldn’t.” The statement confused you, so you gently asked, “What do you mean?” While stepping closer but still giving her space. Katie ran a hand through her hair, sighing deeply before leaning against the lockers.
She let out a frustrated groan before speaking. “We both know what happens when I get a yellow. With the red it’s going to be even worse. They will all be saying that I am too aggressive, should’ve kept my mouth shut, and that I am a disappointment to the team.”
Katie takes a deep sigh. “And they’re right, I should’ve kept my mouth shut, but I didn’t and I can’t take it back. But what I can prevent from happening is turning on you as well.”
You frown slightly, wondering what she meant, but she already continued explaining. “You’re here all calm and collected. But, they see you walking in here and they’ll all be saying that I’m rubbing off on you, you know? That I am corrupting you. The next time you get a card, they will blame me for it. I can handle when they talk trash about me, but not if they talk trash about you because of me.”
Now things started to make sense, and you took a few steps closer to Katie. “You’re not corrupting me, and I don’t care what they say, I want to be with you.”
“You’re passionate and sometimes that shows in ways that get you carded. It won’t mean that I all of a sudden don’t want to be with you anymore because of what some people, that have nothing to do with our relationship, think or say.” 
You took the final step and sat down next to her. “You really don’t care?” With a shake of your head you answered, “Not even a little bit. If people want to talk, let them talk. We know the truth, and that’s all that matters.”
Katie studied your face for a moment, looking for any sign that you weren’t telling the truth, but when she couldn’t find one she let herself relax into your side. 
“I hate that I got sent off.” She spoke softly. “I know you do.” You say as you wrap your arm around her, holding her close. You could feel the frustration radiating off of her. Katie was never one to take things lightly, and you knew how much gettin this card would affect her. She felt her emotions strongly, and that was one of the things you loved about her, but sometimes that also meant that things would sting just a little bit more than others.
“I just wanted to stand up for the team, you know?” You press a kiss to the side of her head. “I know, but sometimes standing up comes with consequences.” She lifted her head off of your shoulder and gave you a look that made you smile.
“You sound just like Kim.” She chuckles lightly. “Well, I’ll take that as a compliment. I get that you feel like you are going to get called out for this in bad ways, but people remember that that same level of feeling and love for the club is what gets us going. We can’t have Katie McCabe without cards, but we know that you also come with some amazing bangers, impressive tackles, and a whole lot of love for the club and sport.” 
She leans back into your side. “How do you always know what to say?” Her hand found yours and you let her intertwine your fingers. “Because I know you, darling.”
You feel her smile into your side. “Thank you for being here.”
“Always.” You promised while squeezing her hand softly. 
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💗 If you enjoyed this fic, please consider liking, commenting, and reblogging! You can also support me by leaving a tip 💗
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awkward-writes-shit · 3 days ago
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Hi Awkward! Love your writing.
Could I request the mercs running into reader having a panic attack after they experienced respawn for the first time?
Only doing 3 at a time but I’ll do more later!
Medic, Spy, Sniper
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Medic
He saw you die. Not a big deal, that’s what the respawn was for.
Only you didn’t, which made him slightly worried, only slightly for now, because maybe he’s just coincidentally away from the parts of the map you are, and he doesn’t have time to look for you because the others needed him.
It was only when a shockingly quiet Soldier came up to him
”Medic… You are needed in the respawn room!”
Definitely a little strange, but he stepped away from the battle.
He was not expecting to see you still there, cuz how long had it been since you died? 5 minutes?
But the biggest shock to him was your state, trembling, softly crying, and shoved into a corner.
He springs into action immediately. Crouching down next to you, but not touching you in case you needed space.
”Liebling, are jou okay…”
He’s so worried about you.
Just wants to make sure you’re okay, so at that moment, you’re his top priority.
Will hug and cuddle you at the moment, and give dirty glares to anyone who stares.
Helps you get used to respawning by going through it a few times with you.
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Spy
Immediately notices when you take a little to long to come out of respawn.
He was always keeping an eye out for you because he knew you weren’t used to dying and respawning yet.
Its lets him be able to find you before the panic attack progresses too much.
Holds you and traces shapes on your back until you calm down.
”It’s okay, Mon Cheri”
May slightly grimace if you get snot or wet his suit, but he’ll just get it cleaned later.
Leads you to a quiet, private spot, away from prying eyes so you don’t feel judged ** COUGH COUGH ** SCOUT ** COUGH COUGH **
Will definitely keep an eye on you for a few more battles, until you’re able to pop right out of the respawn with no problems.
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Sniper
Respawned shortly after you due to you both being blown up due to a cleverly placed sticky bomb.
You were already panicking by then. I mean, you just came back to life, still feeling the slight sting of the bomb as all your organs began working again.
Knows exactly what to do because I said so and I headcannon he had anxiety as a child.
After he’s gotten you to calm down a little, he offers to bring you up to that one high point that we saw in Meet The Sniper.
Quiet little area where it’ll be just you and him in as quiet as a place as he can be with you, while still being able to do his job.
I also headcannon that that place is his own equivalent of engineers workshop.
Rubs your back softly if you get the nauseous kind of anxiety.
If he does die he’s giving Scout competition with how fast he runs back there.
Refuses to leave you all by yourself.
Oh Lordy Lord I’m so back. Sorry if some are shorter than others! Drink water! That’s right, I know you haven’t been drinking your water. DRINK IT.
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wemlygust · 21 hours ago
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This doesn't seem to be current law as yet, and is specific to Mississippi (though other States, I assume, will likely try similar). It was introduced on Jan 22nd as a proposed bill in the Mississippi State House, but as of 1/29 it has not passed. We need to make sure we are careful about facts right now, because panic and constant stress is not conducive to organizing. Panic and fear is what they want, because it is much easier for them to win if people obey in advance. And because when peope are focused on a rumor, that helps bury the news of things and reaction to things that they are actually currently doing.
If you have a printer, or the money to pay a printer, please pass these Immigrant Law Resource Center (ILRC) cards out (or make them available in a shared space), especially if you live near a lot of immigrants. These flyers from the ACLU are also good to spread around. Print them and pin them on public corkboards, tape them to telephone polls, or ask local businesses if they can display one in their window or will add a stack of them to their flyers/local newspapers/etc. This is something tangible you can do to fight back. The little effort it takes to get these cards to lots of people has a decent chance of helping at least 1, and that is absolutely worth it. Even people who end up never encountering ICE may at least feel more safe and more welcome in the country if they have a plan for that scenario and know at least some people have hearts and are trying to help them.
Its about to be real lucrative to be a snitch. Guard your information. And guard your friends information.
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hexhomos · 22 hours ago
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I really hate that so many are against Viktor having the kids because his in utero imagery, embryo face splitting, etc... it's just fitting. With his making a better future, for those that exist and will exist... I don't think he'd hate children, not at all. And as for him hating being pregnant, I think most people find it unpleasant LMFAO. Just because he's disabled doesn't mean he isn't capable of carrying. Disabled people can have, and can want to have, children. I should know, as it's personal to me. How do you feel on this?
I think this is all completely valid. At the same time I fully understand the other side of the issue, because (personally) I'm very viscerally repulsed by the idea of having a pregnancy, just on a gut level. Periods make me feel capital T terrible, I have enough health issues routinely that I'm on edge about losing control of my body every 3 months; and having a baby is The most chaotic and disorienting bodily experience you can willingly sign up for. Nine months of gestation! And it's not over even after the baby is out! You could be changed forever!
I'm empathetic to the viewpoint that viktor would be hyperaware of all the associated trials & risks and he wouldn't be super excited to sign up for it. When you're born with an uterus you're bombarded with the messaging that pregnancy is Inevitable and Desired and if you don't do it soon enough you are, in fact, wasting a precious limited resource of your body - and this is the norm, this is expected, but also generally quite horrific. I think people expressing their negative feelings on the trope come more from a place of personal discomfort, and fandom niches are one of the only spaces where this can be expressed without people looking at you like some sort of confessed criminal (or god forbid, a broken woman!!!!)
I don't think Viktor’s imagery necessarily implies pregnancy so much as him being trapped in a state of arrested development, reverting to a pre-ego self (or, a rebirth and reformation) he's on the death-life cycle, quite literally.
I also honestly believe ship babies stuff can be cute, and I've liked some of it. I've even read some pregnant viktor fics before, and eventually decided those aren't for me. To each their own! I like viktor as a spokesperson of body horror and i think the machine herald could do some great free abortions. I'm pro-get-jayce-pregnant. Life will find a way. He would probably see all of the positive sides and brush off the negatives then get really in touch with his feelings. let viktor be the bewildered dad. that's my take
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harrywavycurly · 2 days ago
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Handle With Care: Are You Okay?
Masterlist: Here
CW: language, drinking, Harry is still a bit of an asshole and slight angsty bits
Tag List: @gmikaelson @ell0ra-br3kk3r @tulips4harry @mellamolayla @mads3502 @empathyroad @idk199o @sassamanda77 @maudie-duan @macy-tpwk @coralferrio1 @stylesftcher @mema10 @cherryloveshs
A/N: Harry is showing he can be nice-ish and I love that for you, but also this part is kinda angsty👀
Summary: Harry has a party that ends with someone knocking on your door at an odd hour📦✨
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Harry smiles as he walks around his crowded living room so he can reach his kitchen and he’s only mildly confused as to who some of the people are that give him friendly nods and waves, surely he knows them but just has had one too many drinks to remember the exact details of meeting them. Throwing a party wasn’t originally on his agenda for the evening but honestly he needed a distraction from the girl who lives two floors up and is entirely too nice to him that he can’t seem to stop thinking about since he met her only a few days ago. You have somehow wormed your way into his mind and he’s not sure when you’ll ever leave or if he even wants you to. It’s gotten so bad he can’t even make himself a cup of coffee in the morning without wondering if you like coffee or are you a tea person and if you do like tea which ones are your favorite and how do you like it? And frankly Harry feels like he’s gone full on looney because he knows how he’s treated you since meeting you so the odds of him ever getting to know how you take your tea or if you like coffee is very slim but it doesn’t stop him from wondering.
“This is a great party.” Harry tries to be polite as Heather, the girlfriend of one of his fraternity brothers leans in to give him a half hug once he enters the kitchen. He really does try to give her a nice genuine smile but all he can think of when she hugs him is how her perfume is far too sweet smelling and it makes him miss a certain floral scent that has a hint of something else he hasn’t been able to put his finger on because he’s not sure what exactly makes the sunshine smell but he thinks it’s something citrusy.
“Thanks.” He knows his tone isn’t full of enough excitement as it should be considering there’s a party happening around him but he can’t help it. Because as it turns out surrounding himself with random people hasn’t helped in the way he thought it would because instead of the party being a distraction it only seems to amplify the fact his crowded living room is missing the one person he wants to see.
Heather doesn’t bother asking what’s wrong, too distracted by someone grabbing her hand and leading her out of the kitchen to the makeshift dance floor that’s just the space between the couch and his entertainment center. Harry takes the opportunity now that he finds himself alone in his kitchen to let out a deep sigh and lean against his counter near the fridge. Normally he’s a better host, doing his duty to make sure people are having fun and don’t need anything but tonight he can’t be bothered to care if everyone is enjoying themselves or not because honestly he kind of hopes if they’re having a horrible time then they’ll all leave and he can be left alone to his thoughts that somehow always lead him right back to you.
“Harry where are your-” Niall stops talking when he notices his curly haired friend is leaning against his kitchen counter, hands gripping the edge and a frown on his face with his eyes closed. “Harry?” Niall takes a step towards him so he can place a hand on his shoulder but as soon as Niall reaches his hand out Harry’s eyes open causing both men to be startled and jump a bit.
“Jesus Christ Niall what the hell is wrong with you?”
“What’s wrong with me? You’re the one who’s sleeping during his own bloody party you twat!”
“Wasn’t s’leeping.” Harry mumbles making Niall roll his eyes as he walks over to the sink that Harry has filled with ice and various bottles of liquor and beer.
“What’s got you lookin all doom and gloom huh? Your ex here or-”
“I’m not all doom and gloom you asshole I’m just tired that’s all.” Harry says with a sigh as he runs a hand over his face before looking out into his living room.
“Tired huh? I’m callin’ bullshit mate.” Harry turns his head just as Niall cracks open a beer, a smug looking smile on his face as he stares back at him.
“Oh fuck off. Just go back to flirting with everyone that smiles at you and leave me alone.” Niall laughs and shakes his head before taking a sip of his beer while Harry crosses his arms over his chest as a scowl takes over his face because his annoying Irish friend won’t just let him sulk in his own kitchen by himself.
“Why don’t you just go invite her to the party and be done with it?” At this Harry lets out a scoff as if what Niall just had the nerve to say to him is the most absurd thing he’s ever heard.
“Am I supposed to know who you’re referring-”
“Oh my god dude you’re actually fuckin’ annoying me now.” Niall puts his beer down on the counter next to the sink so he can walk over and put both hands on Harry’s shoulders. “Go ask her to come down for a drink so you can stop mopping around like a wet blanket because it’s getting on my nerves so if you don’t go do it then I will.” Harry narrows his eyes into a harsh glare as Niall tells him that he’ll go to your door because if there’s something that Niall knows about Harry it’s that he’s always been a jealous person so the image of Niall knocking on your door instead of him is enough to make his jaw clench and his blood want to start boiling.
“Like hell you will.” Harry snaps as he practically shoves Niall off of him, while to anyone watching this would look like the beginnings of a fight it’s actually exactly the kind of reaction Niall was aiming for so he just steps back with a smile on his face. “If anyone is going to go bother her it’s gonna be me you wonky kneed-”
“Okay okay I get it I won’t go knock on her door.” Niall says with a laugh as he goes to grab his beer off the counter. “Just be quick with it you lanky fuck.” Niall adds as he turns to head back into the living room to join the rest of the people at the party leaving Harry standing in his kitchen annoyed that he just fell for whatever trick Niall just played on him.
“Fuckin asshole.” He mumbles to himself as he runs a hand through his hair while heading for his front door. He grabs his keys off the table by the door and pats his pockets to double check he has his phone because if you do decline his invite then maybe at least he can try to get your number, just so next time he can properly invite you instead of asking you to come over two hours after the party starts.
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You reach over and turn the lamp on your nightstand off before getting comfortable in your bed for the night. Seeing as it’s nearly one in the morning you let out a sleepy sigh as you close your eyes. You don’t drift off the sleep right away, your mind is still going a mile a minute with random thoughts of the green eyed boy that helped you move. While for the most part he wasn’t the friendliest person you’ve come across you still can’t help but think that maybe he was just having a rough few days having to adjust from living in a giant house with ten other guys to living alone, after all it can be hard being alone with just you and your thoughts all the time and Niall did tell you Harry was very popular so maybe he just doesn’t do well alone. And to your annoyance no matter how rude he may have been it doesn’t change the fact he is extremely handsome with his green eyes and curly brown hair and nice jawline, and not to mention the tattoos scattered in random places on his arms it makes it that much harder to just forget about him.
As if the universe can hear the inner workings of your mind you suddenly hear a very loud knock on your front door. You open your eyes and sit up to see if maybe someone just accidentally knocked on your door, mistaking it for someone else’s but when you hear a second much more deliberate sounding knock you know that’s not the case. You lean over and turn on your lamp before tossing the covers off your legs and slipping your feet into your fuzzy pink and orange polka dotted slippers. You think that something must be wrong with whoever is on the other side of the door as you hear a third knock, so you quickly rush to turn on your kitchen light before heading to your front door.
“Maybe she’s not-” Harry freezes as you swing open your door, while he was hoping to see you again he never in his wildest dreams would’ve imagined he’d see you answering the door in a pink and yellow tye dyed nightgown that seems to be a little loose fitting as one of the straps is dangerously close to falling off your shoulder.
“Harry? Are-are you okay?” Your voice is filled with worry as you look him up and down, silently wondering why he’s dressed in skinny jeans and a long sleeve black knitted shirt that allows his tattoos to show through when it’s nearly one in the morning but when you don’t see any obvious signs of a possible injury you let you eyes flicker up to his face. When you see his eyes are wide and his mouth is slightly hung open you all of a sudden realize what you’re wearing and instantly cross your arms over your chest in an attempt to cover yourself up.
“Uhm I uh.” He clears his throat and gives his head a shake as if it’ll help clear his mind of all the wildly inappropriate thoughts he’s having all because you’re standing there in your nightgown. “I’m having a party.” You raise an eyebrow as he practically spits the words out as if they caused a bad taste in his mouth and he needed them gone.
“Oh uhm okay when is your uh party?”
“Now.”
“Now? Like right now?”
“It started two hours ago.” While this is the most the two of you have talked without him saying something incredibly mean or with a snarky attitude you can’t help but feel like something is off with him.
“So why are you here if you have a party going on right now?” You ask and Harry lets out a sigh as he runs a hand through his hair.
“Niall told me to come invite you.” Harry doesn’t mean for it to come off as if Niall is the only reason he’s standing in your doorway at such an odd hour but he can tell by the way your shoulders slump and you just nod at him, that is exactly how you’re taking it.
“Well that’s sweet of Niall but-”
“I’m sorry about the plates.” You quirk a brow at his sudden outburst while Harry lets out a groan as he closes his eyes and looks up towards the ceiling. “Fuck fuck fuck this is going so bad.” You hear him mumble as he runs booths hand over his face and you can’t help but wonder if he meant to say that in his head instead of actually voicing it out loud.
“It’s okay.” Your soothing voice makes Harry open his eyes and look down at you as you uncross your arms so you can reach out and place a hand on his forearm.
“Really Harry it’s fine and thank you for the invite but uhm it’s a little late so maybe next time?” He only catches about every third word that leaves your mouth as he stares at the hand that’s resting on his arm, he feels the same sort of electric shock that he felt the first time you touched him being sent all the way to his toes. He blinks a few times and he wants to place his hand over yours so you can’t move it but he doesn’t so he just has to watch in silence as you remove your hand from him and place it by your side.
“Did-did you feel that?” He knows he sounds crazy the moment he asks the question but he really doesn’t care because he has to know if you felt the same zap he did or if he really is losing his mind.
“Feel what?” You look at his face as he lets out a deep sigh and that’s when you notice the slight red tint to his cheeks and the way his eyes are a bit glossed over and it hits you, he’s drunk.
“That like weird zap when you touched me? You felt it right?”
“Harry I think you’ve just had too much to drink.”
“No no I’m not drunk-well I’m not that drunk.” You just give him a soft smile as he places a hand on his hip while the other rubs at the back of his neck. “It’s like when you touch someone with too much static and you shock them but-but it’s a little different because I only feel it with you.” Harry knows looking back he will remember this as the moment he officially feels like he has fully lost his mind because the look on your face is one that tells him you don’t know what he’s talking about meaning you don’t feel it, it’s just him.
“Maybe it’s from my slippers?” Both of you look down at the fuzzy things on your feet but Harry knows that’s not what caused the shock because you weren’t wearing those when he felt it the first time. “Or maybe it’s-”
“It’s nothing.” He can’t handle you trying to explain away something he knows there’s no real explanation for so he just rubs his lips together and turns to look down your hallway before letting out a huff. “I’m drunk.” It’s a lie and he knows it but he can’t be bothered to care because he feels as if his heart just plummeted down to his feet and he just wants to turn and run away. It’s as if all of a sudden he’s back to the Harry you first met, his eyes are looking at you with a slight glare to them and his jaw is clenched while his hands are balled into fists at his side as if standing in front of you is making him upset in some way.
“Harry I’m-” You try to reach for him again but he takes a step back making the corners of your mouth dip downwards into a slight frown.
“This was a waste of time.” Is all Harry says before he’s turning and making his way down the hall towards the elevators leaving you standing in your doorway feeling confused as to how you somehow caused him to feel so upset that he couldn’t stand to be around you for a moment longer.
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To say Harry is angry is an understatement, he should’ve known going to your apartment wasn’t going to go well because why would it? None of his previous encounters with you have ended well minus when he took a donut from you but even then he’s pretty sure he all but whispered his thank you before he left your apartment. So when he makes it back to his apartment he finds himself instantly scanning his still crowded living room for a pair of blue eyes and over bleached blonde hair that belong to the man he blames for ruining his evening and possibly his chances at ever seeming even semi normal to you. Thankfully he doesn’t have to search long before he finds Niall leaning against his wall near the hallway that his bedroom is on, a beer in his hand and a smile on his face as some girl who Harry doesn’t know chats to him about her plans for the upcoming weekend.
Niall catches Harry heading right for him and he can tell by the way his nostrils are flaring and his jaw is set that he’s not happy. So he politely excuses himself and meets Harry half way, but before Harry can even begin to go off on his Irish friend he feels Niall’s hand wrap around his arm. Harry doesn’t have time to react as Niall drags him down his hallway and shoves him into his bedroom and closes the door behind him.
“What happened?” Niall’s tone is harsh as he reaches over and flicks the light switch on the wall turning on the light attached to the ceiling fan while Harry glares at him as he brushes off his arm where Niall’s hand was making Niall roll his eyes at his friend’s dramatics.
“What happened is you shoved your nose in my business and now she thinks I’m fucking crazy.”
“What did you say? Did you get her number at least?”
“Doesn’t matter what I said it all went to shit and no I didn’t get her fucking number you asshole.”
“You were only gone ten minutes maybe fifteen so how the hell did you manage to fuck it up that quickly?”
“It’s just a talent I have apparently.” Harry says sarcastically as he runs both hands through his hair while he begins to pace the length of his bed that’s in the middle of the room.
“Don’t get all mad and shit okay? But Harry do you maybe-”
“Do I maybe what Niall?”
“Love her?” Niall waits a moment for an over dramatic reaction to his question but when all Harry does is stop pacing and stare at Niall with wide eyes he thinks that maybe his guess is correct and Harry is just now being hit with the reality of it.
“Wha-what did you just ask me?” Harry stumbles over his words as all of a sudden he feels like a stack of bricks just landed on him one by one and with each one he’s hit with he gains a little more of an understanding as to why he’s been acting so strangely around you and why you’re all he can think about.
“Uh I asked if you maybe love her? I know love at first sight is a thing an all so maybe that’s what’s going on?” Niall explains with a shrug as Harry slowly sits on the edge of his bed and lets out a shaky breath.
“I don’t-don’t know what’s wrong with me Niall.” He blinks a few times as a lump begins to form in his throat. “I feel fucking crazy because she’s all I think about and I just met her and then you ask that and now -now I just don’t know what to do.” Niall feels a little useless as he watches one of his bestfriends break down right in front of him, so he just takes a few steps so he can take a seat next to him on his bed.
“Well for starters you can buy her some new plates.” Niall jokes in an attempt to lighten the mood as he places a hand on Harry’s shoulder. But it doesn’t work at all as Harry lets out a groan and covers his face in his hands.
“How do you know about the plates?” Niall chuckles as he gives Harry’s shoulder a good squeeze before dropping his hand away.
“As if that girl would just drop a box of her own stuff and then set it on her counter upside down.”
“I’ve never dropped a box before.”
“I know.”
“I don’t think I love her but I think-” Harry lets out a deep breath as he looks down at his hands that are in his lap. “I really like her.” He admits making Niall smile as he stands up off the bed and takes a step towards Harry’s bedroom door.
“Then you’ll just have to fix it mate and if anyone can get themselves out of a tricky spot it’s you.” Niall says as he turns so he can face Harry, it’s the best he can do to reassure him that it’ll be okay he just has to work on it a bit.
“Thanks.” With that Niall just gives him a little nod and a reassuring smile before he turns and opens the door so he can go back to the party.
Harry lays back on his bed with his feet still on the floor and stares at his ceiling and even though he has a party happening just outside his bedroom door he finds himself preferring the solitude of his bedroom so he can think of possible ways of fixing this extremely messed up situation he’s found himself in. Because Harry decides in this very moment he doesn’t like the way your face looks with a frown on it and he surely doesn’t like it when he knows he’s the reason you’re frowning so he’s going to do whatever it takes to erase any the negative thoughts you have of him and replace them with good ones. And as of right now he is done being an asshole it’s time he shows you just how nice and charming he can be because as he just admitted to Niall, he really likes you.
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ethereacals · 2 days ago
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hey gorgeous! I was thinking abt a reader who is a bit of a gym rat and her and James become friends in the gym and every day after the gym he tells rem and siri abt this girl and then one day they all meet somewhere (maybe like grocers i dont know) and the other boys fall in love and then next time they are at the gym James asks her to go on a date with all of them in hogsmeade or something cute like that and they all start going out!!!! Obviously just ignore if that sounded horrific, love you!!💞💞
ty for requesting my love, sorry for the wait.
and i decided to just make it james x reader since i haven’t done much just james, hope that’s okay (:
VOGUE
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synopsis: gymrat!reader gets uninvitingly hit on my one of the guys at her gym. so it’s James to the rescue.
james potter x gn!reader
warnings: james potter and his irresistibility, unwanted sexual attention and innuendos, profanity
content: teddy bear james
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YOU WERE COOLING down from your workout in the yoga and weightlifting room in your gym.
Sitting on your yoga mat, you stretched out your sore muscles.
The gym was usually a safe space for you, most of the regulars knew you and were extremely kind and supportive.
But today was different.
There were two guys in on opposite sides of the room from you, one was in his own little world with his headphones in. The other was staring at you through the mirror, and you were trying to ignore it.
Sure, he was fit.
But not what you were looking for right now.
As long as he didn’t say anythi—
“Hey, Babes.”
Of course, he just had to come over there.
“Um.. hi?” You greeted, keeping your headphones in.
“I couldn’t help but notice you from across the gym for the whole day.” He flirted, clearly he must have thought that sounded attractive because to you it was creepy.
“Oh.. thanks?”
“You know… i’m free all day after this. And— I’m done with my workout.” He smirked, leaning against the mirror with his sweaty abs all up in your face.
“That’s a nice offer.. but— i’m not done yet.” You mustered up a fake smile.
“That’s fine, you could finish up those stretches at my place. Though I can’t promise I’ll keep my hands to myself…” He winked, and you could puke.
“Again, a nice offer but I’m really not interested.” You tried, but there seemed to be no way you could get through to him.
“Oh, come on. Babe. I know you wanna come with me.” He started to gather up your stuff for you.
“Hey! don’t touch my stuff—“
“I’m just being a gentleman, what? Something naughty in here that you don’t want me to see?” He continued going through your stuff, and right before you could get up and take it from him..
“You heard them, man. Get lost.” You looked up to see the other guy that was across from you in the room.
“They’re just playing hard to get—“
“No, they’re trying to be nice but also basically telling you to go fuck yourself.” He argued, taking your stuff out of his hands and placing it back down next to you.
“Get out of here, or I’ll tell Marlene that you’re harassing someone and she’ll get your membership revoked.”
“Whatever, you weren’t really that sexy, anyways.” He shot his middle finger up at you, and shoved the glass doors open to the yoga room.
You let out a breath of relief.
“Thank y—“
“Don’t mention it, he was being a dick.” He rolled his eyes, crouching down to meet your level— but keeping a respectful distance.
“I’m James, James Potter.” He grinned, his hand out towards you.
“Y/N L/N.” You smiled, shaking his hand gently.
“Enjoy your workout, m’kay? If anyone else starts bothering you just come find me.” He stood, running a hand through his disheveled hair.
“O—Okay…” You managed to get out, James literally was adorable.
He smiled brightly at you, before turning and walking back to his weights.
Maybe you would be okay getting harassed more often, BUT only if James was the one to save you.
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thatlldodonkey · 14 hours ago
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Hello,
I am a trainee teacher. That means I teach and study. I also have autism diagnosed 2 years ago. In the UK, so apologies in advance if not everything is relevant to all individuals.
Here's my best tips to study:
✅Listening can be easier than reading:
-notebookLM turns words into a podcast interview.
-librivox has classic literature in audio for free.
✅make it fun:
-canva makes (colourful) whiteboards/ mindmaps/ spidercharts/ images/ gifs for free (there is an ai image maker on it, avoid it if you don't like that kind of thing).
-adding images/ colours help with retention.
-pens/ pencils/ cute notebooks/ sticky notes! Do a mini shopping trip and buy it all (within your budget of course!), it will make you excited to be able to use it.
-handwrite - because we don't do it often anymore, it will feel fun and novel and you're more likely to want to do it because of the change
-take a break, don't try and go more than 30 mins at a time! I have my phone with me all the time, as soon as my focus wavers, I don't fight it. I grab my phone and open an app I like (mine is the library reading app BorrowBox and give myself 5 mins on it). Don't feel like you have to only take 5 though, this works for me because I only study 10 mins at a time. Do what works for you.
-jump around - gosh I feel old thinking of that song. But yes, get up, jump, run, move, step outside, breath, shake it up. I'm physically disabled and walking is difficult for me, so I just shove my seat back from the desk, swing my arms around, shimmy my shoulders, roll my neck and ankles, spirit fingers! Sometimes I'm ready to go straight back to work after, if not, I grab my book and read for my five mins.
-put music on - if you don't like silence, put some music on. I put the 'classical music is just heavy metal before guitars' on YouTube in the background. It's fun but has no lyrics to distract my (easily distracted) brain.
-YouTube - similarly you can literally find anything on youtube. Try putting your study subject in and see what comes up. However, if you're the type to fall down a rabbit hole, avoid this one, it doesn't work for everyone!
-Use a timer! You only did 5 mins? That's 5 more minutes than you would have managed if you didn't have your timer. It all adds up.
-little and often - my mum's favourite saying but it works. Don't make studying into a thing, don't block out an entire day to do hours or it. You have 10 mins at the bust stop? You have 5 mins on the loo? You have 2 mins whilst your wait for the shower to warm? Yes, even then. Pull up your notes on your phone, put on a podcast, put that reading book on audio. It will all add up.
-flight mode - sometimes you need to avoid all distractions. I find putting my phone (if I'm not using it's internet to study) on flight mode helps. Make sure you warn those closest to you that you'll be AWOL for a while though so they don't panic if you're the sort to reply before they've even messaged.
-go somewhere else - sometimes your usual area might be too busy (not only with people, but with stuff) so go somewhere else. Library is always a good idea, but anywhere new is good. Nan's house? Cafe? The park in good weather? McDonald's? Bus with WiFi?
-kahoot/ quizziz/ curipod - I use these (apps and online) with my learners, but also on myself. They have quizzes and games made by other teachers for all levels of learners. They're fun, colourful and don't feel like studying. A free account on each is good enough to get most features.
✅reading/ writing made easy
-readwrite is an add-on your browser it helps with reading aloud - webpages and written work - (you can change speed and voices), suggestions, simplify, rewordify, highlights (in different colours).
-Ctrl alt space reads your ms word to you. Again the voice and the speed can be altered for comfort.
-Comic sans is your friend. Originally designed for dyslexic readers, it is more comfortable and easier on your eyes. It helps me find more spelling and syntax errors on ms word than if I use another font (just remember to change it to a "more professional" font before you send your work in).
✅utilise AI - you can give chatgpt or Gemini your document and ask them to condense it for easier reading. You can even ask them to just pull out the important terminology and list it for you. It will help you cut through the crap, which is something I personally have a problem with being autistic
✅Google scholar - need journals and other peer reviewed work? This is where to go. Put what you're looking for in and it will find titles of papers based on the most important words in your query. Further filters can be added to narrow it down. (Then you can get readwrite to read it out for you because I don't know about you, but I find journals boring)
✅elicit - this isn't always great because lots of things are behind paywalls, however, if you are looking for a brief overview of a journal or something similar, it will give you an abstract (summary) of the article.
✅citethemright - is good for referencing and bibliographies. The only problem is, if your college/ uni isn't signed up with it, you can't use it without paying.
✅mybib - however is a free version and it works well enough
✅study buddy - if you're not like me and enjoy the company of other people, this is a great way to hold yourself accountable. "I can't let my buddy down today, they're looking forward to coming over for a study session!" Just make sure you tell them how your routine works, so they're not surprised when you up and jump around after ten mins!
✅Bonus tip!✅ Speed up your audio: you can pick up more than you think on 1.5x or even 2x and you get through more.
‼️feel free to add more, people ‼️
Yes, yes, I know Tumblr DISPISES AI but remember, you are not using it to create, you are using it to condense, analyse, to give your autistic brain the fighting chance others already have.
Me: how do I study as a neurodivergent person?
Google: how to help your autistic child study
Me: how to study as an autistic adult/teen
Google: teachers guide to how to deal with autistic children
Me: how do I study as an autistic teen/adult
Google: study tips for autistic people(-written by this allistic man that will talk about autistic people like they're zoo animals)
Me: how to study as a neurodivergent adult, tips from neurodivergent person to neurodivergent students, on how to study independently as an autistic person, no reliant support needed
Google: high functioning autism and school
Me: fuck just. How do I focus during this test that I'm in rn as an AuDHD person
Google: ok, so, to focus on this thing that you currently are doing and need to get done TODAY; weeks before the test you'll need to eat healthy and exercise, meditate, study, set timers, take breaks, drink water, sleep, find the secrets to a happy life, adopt five children, sacrifice a goat, take short showers, brush your teeth
Executive dysfunction:
My fucking deadline:
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cloversnstrawberries · 21 hours ago
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could you do platonic leon kennedy with his child that tried to escape him but failed, like how would he punish them?
"code 10-110" platonic!dad!yandere!leon s. kennedy & teen!runaway!gn!reader [oneshot] ! !
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masterlist !
description; You know your dad meant well, but after he takes it way too far-- you decide to break free from his hold. Really, you should've known that you couldn't outrun him for long. After all, you were his kid, and he'd go to the end of the Earth to keep you safe (and by his side).
additional notes; hello!! i'm not sure if you aiming for headcanons or not, but i decided to do a oneshot!! i hope i did the concept justice,,, you're all very big brained when it comes to ideas. i love requests so much, because i don't think i ever would've come up with this idea; but i had so much fun writing it.
also, fun fact, i was in the gotham fandom for a long while!! i know a lot of police stuff because of that, so i vaguely remembered the "10 codes" from the get. 10-110 is a code for juvenile disturbance :D
warnings; Leon is Not Well, overprotectiveness, possessiveness, entrapment, running away, manipulation (more so of reader's environment more than reader themselves), cops/law enforcement, vague talk of violence/murder, and there ight be more I missed :[ if I missed one, please let me know! ^^
w/c; 4.5k
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You didn't think you'd get this far.
Not for a lack of care in your plan-- no, you couldn't have been more careful as you planned everything and anything involved in your escape. Months passed before you enacted it. You bided your time, until you heard the birds outside start singing in the morning-- and when your dad came in to take away the space heater.
It was spring, and while you didn't know the exact date while locked away in a deceptively cozy, comfortable cell-- made to look like a bedroom, like your bedroom--, but he'd locked you away in September, so... around 5-6 months, you'd been holed up in there.
Your dad wasn't always like how is now, you think. Maybe there were traces of it-- but that was easily written off as him being a run-of-the-mill overprotective dad. He worked in law enforcement, he'd seen the worse humanity could offer and more.
And for that, you'd given him some slack. You tried not to snap at him when he made sure you weren't out of the house past 8, and that he had to have met a friend before you so much as hung out-- and god forbid sleepovers, those were reserved for only the most trustworthy friends with the must trustworthy of family.
There were a lot of rules when it came to interacting with you. Really, you tried not to let it get to you; but it was so... isolating. No one wanted to be your friend, and they especially didn't want to try and ask you out. It was like a death sentence, in their minds.
They took one look at your dad, and decided that'd he'd be the type to see you off to prom with a bullet in the head of your date. He's not like that. He doesn't kill people for it, for being near you or anything.
He'd never outwardly rude or violent about it either. But still, it was overbearing. It had gotten worse as you got older-- as he went on more missions, and after every one, he'd come back a little bit different.
A little bit more intense with his previously manageable protective nature-- you were starting to feel like a bird kept in a gilded cage. The list of rules he held you and your friends by was so long that even you couldn't keep track of it anymore,
Eventually, everyone left you. Ruled you off as the kid with a crazy dad that owns more guns and weapons then the average kid could've ever imagined.
You don't blame him for it-- not really. You understood it. He'd sat you down and explained to you time and time again, apologized for the way he was-- he just wanted you safe.
It all came to a head when he went a step too far.
15 minutes. That's all you'd been late by-- 15 goddamn minutes. He'd lowered the curfew from 8 to 7:30, then 7--
And eventually, it was down to fucking 5:00. You couldn't be out of the house without him being present after 5! Not even for a job! Nothing! He made no exceptions, and it irritated you to no end.
In an act of textbook teenage rebellion (not really, if you tried telling that to anyone around your age then they'd laugh in your face, call it a pathetic attempt at defiance) , you stayed out a little later than necessary. You popped into a gas station on the way back home from hanging out at the local library, got a bag of candy, and took your sweet old time walking home.
You knew there'd be consequences; but the ones you'd expected, like being unable to walk anywhere anymore, or losing privleges like your computer or TV, or even being grounded...
Well, safe to say that what he ended up choosing blew those other options far, far out of the water.
Anxiety curled in your gut as you thought about it more and more, the idea that you thought for sure you wouldn't make it this far. By no means did this make you feel any safer than you had before-- if anything, it puts you more on edge.
Honestly, you don't know what you thought you'd get out of this. You can't go to the cops-- you're just another runaway. Your dad hadn't skimped out on the story he wove about you,
When you first got out-- first pried your way out of that basement, bathed in mockingly warm light-- all the amenities your average teenager could ask for, save for the ability to leave--, you'd made the mistake of trying to head to the police station.
It was stupid, you realize. And nearly got yourself caught in less than 30 minutes-- they'd ushered you in, listened to your tale of how your dad trapped you down in a basement. The town had to have been buzzing, and you'd wrongfully assumed that your dad had been playing up the 'grieving father going through hell and back to try and find their kid'.
Luck. That's all you had on your side, pure, dumb luck that you got out of there in time. That the walls of the precinct were thin enough for you to hear the cops talking about you in the other room. They weren't much for hushed tones, which was stupid when they talking about someone in the room right next to them.
The chief had been called over, you think. Sounded like him. But regardless of who he was, what he said hit you like a ton of bricks, no matter the person behind it.
"You got Kennedy's kid? Ain't they sicker than a dog, though? Bedbound, didn't he say?" Then another one, the younger one that seemed the most trustworthy when she'd pulled you into the building, and gave you some water and a blanket, corrected the man, "He never said what kind of sick, sir. It might be... in their head, and I don't think he ever said bedbound. Just stuck in the house."
Blood rushed in your ears, grip tightening on the little paper cup in your hand. You fought against the primal urge to flee, to bolt straight up and scramble to the door you'd entered from; no regard for what or who you might of disturbed or knocked into/over.
Instead, you'd stood-- shaking, but trying to keep calm, and walked to the back. You headed out the employee entrance, where they'd clock in and out, you think.
You didn't run until you were a good ways away, until you got to a more residential part of the town. Frantically, like a startled animal, you darted past houses and through backyards; running in the general direction of a train track nearby.
God-- you don't know how you got it in your head that train hopping was the easiest way to hightail it out of there, but now, you're very much of the opinion that you will never do that again.
Maybe it was because it was your first time-- or maybe these things never get easier as you keep doing them-- but you were a hairs length away from losing a leg.
No.
You stayed on foot, or on greyhound buses and the occasional passenger train with the small bits of cash you could scrounge up before your escape from the house.
With no particular destination in mind, you found yourself in some non-descript, decrepit convenience store. The tiled floors were cracked and dirty, looking like they'd give you the black plague if you touched them head on; the fluorescent lights above bathed the store in a sickly sort of yellow hue, the buzzing seeming louder than it was supposed to be.
But hey, you weren't a code inspector. You'd gained nothing from ragging on the decrepit state of the place-- it was good enough, to grab some supplies. There were no bugs, and the displays were kept neat and clean; that's all you can really ask for, in a place like this.
When you got up to the checkout lane, the woman manning the register gave you a wary sort of look, on you've become rather accustomed to.
"Where you headin' to, sweetheart? I never seen you 'round these parts before." These sorts of conversations were a dime a dozen, you'd realized. It was only fair, for people to be worried about a random kid wandering about, seemingly unaccomponied by any guardian-- or even a friend.
But, you'd also become accustomed to answering these kinds of questions. To quickly shut them down with a soft hum and a "My aunt. I'm visiting her for a little bit."
You must've gone further south than you'd thought-- it was warm, and muggy, especially for spring. Her accent was heavier than you'd ever heard before, something you don't come across in the midwest. The kind of accent you only get if you've spent your whole life in the south, and never intend to leave it.
It might've been your lack of accent that set off alarm bells in her head, her hand stopping mid-scan. "What's her name, darl'? I bet I know her. Towns like these, you end up knowin' everyone by name."
Ah.
Yeah... that was a bit of a problem. Small towns and all-- but you can't really step into a big city either, yeah? It'd be crawling with cops, and you'd stick out like a sore thumb. Even more so than you do now.
"She's in the town over." You quickly pulled from your ass, but she didn't start scanning again "The next town is a 30 minute drive."
You bite your tongue, trying not to let irritation rise. She meant well, you're sure, but the longer you're here, the more of a chance you get discovered.
"I'm travelling by greyhound. The next bus comes in 10 minutes, and my bus stop is halfway across the city." There, that should put a fire under her feet, right? Make her start scanning again-- a solid enough answer to ease her worries, you hope.
For a moment, you were afraid she wouldn't. That'd she try to lead you to a backroom and call the cops, report a possible runaway. That was something that happened a lot, too. People who meant well, surely, but in the end-- all they could do was harm.
You don't want to think about how your dad would react. How he would punish you for this.
Then, as if angels were shining down from Heaven itself-- she started moving again, and the rest of the transaction went smoothly.
Though, the concern never eased from her eyes. You could still feel her gaze, piercing against your back as you made haste out of the convenience store.
Truth is, you... actually don't know when the next bus was. Or where it was going to. In all honesty, you'd been planning on taking a train out, but that wouldn't be here for a couple hours. You never did much research with it-- beyond making sure it wasn't going to some big city.
But, with a fire started under your own feet, you were forced back to the bus stop, and made to board the very next bus; no matter the desitination.
It seemed like your luck was running out now, as one-way country roads turned into four-lane highways, and when skyscrapers started coming into view; and the sign, declaring "ATLANTA - 5 MILES AHEAD"
You let yourself mumble a little curse, under your breath as you anxiously watched the traffic around you. This wasn't how this was meant to go. Yeah, you're in Georgia-- a far cry from the state of corn, wheat, and soy that you hail from, but still.
Not good.
It's almost certain your face was floating around on various TV programs, missing posters covering light posts and bulletin boards alike-- but you hoped and prayed to anything that'd listen that the efforts to make people aware of your disappearance hadn't stretched outside of your county, or at least your homestate.
But other than being caught, being in a city posed other risks. A lone-travelling teenager wasn't a good thing to be in places like these. You could easily get lost amongst the crowds, yes; but sometimes that worked in your favor, and sometimes it didn't.
This was not one of those times.
You hadn't showered in a while-- a week and a half. Gross? Sure, you'll admit that much; but showering wasn't on your top priority. Escaping your dad was your biggest concern right now, and personal hygiene wasn't something that could trump that need at any rate.
But that singled you out. You were dirty, looked homeless. As you cut through a park, you noticed that various hostile architecture covering nearly every bench around. Ads for Salvation Army and local homeless shelters right by them.
It was obvious this place wouldn't take too kindly to you, if they were trying as hard as you think they are at cracking down on homelessness.
Right before you could exit the park-- you noticed a cop. You eyed them, keeping watch, making sure they don't spot you. What was the chance, that they would? Or if they did, that they'd even care? It looked like they were on break, anyhow.
Just when you deemed yourself in the clear, enough to take your eyes off the officer and focus your gaze ahead of yourself, did you hear someone shout "Hey!"
Maybe it wasn't for you.
It probably wasn't,
but you couldn't take the chance. Regardless of the intent, of who it'd really been aimed it-- if it was even the cop that said it, you took off running. No doubt looking suspicious as hell, in the meanwhile.
Behind you, your paranoia was proven correct when you heard the same voice calling "We got a code 10-110 in Freedom park! Looks to be in early to mid teens, on foot!" You sped up at that-- you didn't recognize the code, obviously. You didn't spend too much time familiarizing yourself with police codes, y'know,
But it didn't bode well at all, how they started describing you to a goddamned T, right down to your brown, fur-lined bomber jacket you'd snagged from the coat closet back home.
You pushed your body harder, lungs burning and throat closing up with fear-- this can't be how it ends. It just can't. You won't let it, you'd rather jump in the Chattahoochee river and swim your way down to Florida then get caught like this.
In your panic, you lost your footing. A loose pebble worked its way under your shoe, and sent you tumbling forward and sprawled out on the hard, unforgiving concrete of a city sidewalk. People avoided you-- especially when, before you could even get up on your knees, the cop grabbed you and kept you down, shouting what sounded like gobble-dee-gook through the radio they'd unclipped from their hip.
In the end, it was a goddamn pebble that took you out! A pebble! You can't even be that mad, it was so ridiculous-- sure, if you thought harder, then that pebble never would've tripped you up if you weren't noticed and subsequently chased by that cop, and you never would've been in Atlanta if you hadn't lied through your teeth to that random, well-meaning southern lady--
You could do this all day, track all your little slights and mistakes to that one harrowing, terrible moment that it all came crashing down.
Two months and 17 days.
That's how long you'd made it.
That's it.
Really, you should be proud of yourself. Again, you never expected yourself to make it that long-- but still, it did nothing to quell that world-ending despair you felt that it'd come to an end.
If anything, it hurt more, that'd you'd lasted longer. You really thought you had a chance, only for a pebble to slip you up, and have shipped right back to your dads arms.
Right back to the basement, that's significantly more bare than before. There were still the basics, but all your magazines, books, journals, your TV, CD player, 3DS, PS3-- everything. Just... Everything was gone, except for the furniture, some clothes, and your blankets and pillows.
Though, he didn't take your stuffed animals. Maybe you should've felt insulted at that, find a way to twist it and make it seem like he was treating you as a child (which, for the record, he absolutely was; but for other reasons).
It'd just be a waste of energy, though. He was like a brick wall now-- those little flinches, the sad looks that'd sometimes find its way on his face, how his apologies sounded so genuine at times...
They were all gone, replaced with a cold sort of determination you'd only seen your dad have when he was working on a particularly high-stakes mission.
You curled up tighter, clutching the Invader Zim GIR plush you'd gotten for your 8th birthday closer to your chest; seeking whatever comfort you could, now that were back here.
Not even home. You refuse to think of this place as home anymore, especially not your dressed-up cell. Even if it had carpet floors instead of cold tiles, and the walls painted a sky blue instead of a dingy grey; you still saw it for what it was.
A prison. And while your dad might've tried to change your opinion on it before, after your little 'stunt', as he'd dubbed it, he all but leaned into your perception of the space.
You heard the door click. And once upon a time, you would've rushed to it; hoped that you could shoulder your way past your dad-- only for him to laugh and think you were just happy to see him. You let him believe that at the time.
And now, you just flip over. You defiantly face the wall, not giving your dad the time of day. It was the only way you could fight back now, and even then you knew it was useless. That he'd force you to engage regardless of what you did,
That, realistically, your silent treatment couldn't last long at all. Eventually, you'll need to talk to him. To ask him for more toothpaste, or make a specific request for dinner; or even ask him the date.
He never told you the last one, always giving you wildly differing answers that'd thrown you off at first, before you caught on. Caught onto how he was trying to keep out of the know on the weather, so you wouldn't try and book it when the weather was more hospitable.
Even as you felt the mattress deep near the end of your metal-framed, twin-sized daybed; you didn't stir. You didn't dare move, didn't dare breathe; like a rabbit caught in the teeth of a tricky fox.
"Kid, you can't keep doing this." You don't answer him. This was by far the longest you'd been able to keep up with this small, but meaningful, act of rebellion. A few days, at least. You don't a way of tracking it indefinitely, but you've figured out a less concrete way of telling the passage of time.
That being how often he visited. It differed, sometimes he'd go longer without visiting, and other times he'd pop up every what-felt-like 30 minutes or so. There was no telling what mood he'd be in for the day, but you managed.
It's been a while, you know that much. And he was getting rather impatient, even if he tried to mask it. You haven't so much as looked his direction this whole time, only getting up and moving around when the coast was clear. When there was neither hide nor hair of your dad's presence,
Save for the camera, stuck up in the corner near the door. You know it's there-- it's a new addition, and you make a point of not looking at it, refusing to acknowledge it. You knew there was a good chance it was just a scare tactic, that it wasn't actually hooked up...
But still, you had to stick with this. You had to be going somewhere with this, after all.
A heavy sigh came next, then your dad shifted from where he sat at the end of the bed. Scooting up, closer to you. It took all you had not to curl up tighter. You had to stay still. You had to act like you weren't there, like you were just a ghost.
When his hand landed on your shoulder, you couldn't help but flinch a little at it. Even though the contact was soft, kind; just like the man who'd raised you all by his lonesome, though his current behavior was a far cry of who he used to be.
Or maybe, just what your perception of him had been. Maybe he was always like this, he just... snapped. Couldn't take it anymore and decided to put his worries to rest for the foreseeable future.
"Listen," You wish you didn't. You wish you could shut off your brain and just lay there, truly motionless; unseeing, unhearing, and unmoving, until he gave up and left you alone.
He knew you had to, though. Otherwise he wouldn't hve kept talking. You have nothing else to do, no other viable option but to listen to what he has to say-- whatever ultimatum he's come up with now.
You won't fold. You won't give in, you tell yourself. Not now, not ever; not until he gives up for good, and lets you back into society.
(deep down, you know that was never an option. especially now. you knew that he had his claws deep in you, that he wasn't going to let go. that he wouldn't dare to, lest his precious, sweet child get hurt along the way)
(it was all for your own good, he'd tell you. you never believed him. maybe he did believe that himself, but you knew better; you knew that, at the core of it, this was for his own benefit. keeping you locked up, away from the world-- it minimized the worries he had about you getting hurt.)
(about you being taken away from him, like so many people before you had. so many loved ones, friends, families, significant others-- he can't have the cycle repeating with you. he just can't. anyone else, anyone else but you.)
His hold on your shoulder tightened. Just a little, but it still made your haunches raise; made the hair on the back of your neck stand up straight. You hope he didn't notice.
"The sooner you accept this, the sooner your punishment will end, okay? This is for your own good."
Don't do it, you told yourself-- don't you dare, you don't need to respond--
"You keep saying that." Your voice was rough and croaky from disuse, and you cleared your throat to try and take a little bit of the edge off. You could almost feel the brightness and warmth of your dads smile, bearing into your back-- now that you finally deemed him worthy enough of a response. "And I'll keep saying it, as long as I mean it."
You huffed-- his definition of punishment had always been... loose. He never took it out on you, rather on others. He wasn't violent or rude per se, but if one of your friends were present when you two got into a tight spot...
Well. Let's just say your dad can yell like a drill sergeant if he's pushed to it. And that those friends never showed their faces around you again, in fear of inciting his wrath again. And you don't blame them.
But he's never done that to you, no-- you were his precious little angel, of course. He'd much sooner blame himself for being too 'lax' on you, that he left any doubt in your head that he didn't mean the best for you.
It was all very backhanded, how he assumed that you running away was not because of how insanely overprotective he was being-- but because he wasn't being overprotective enough.
Really, someone needs to study his brain. Maybe he got something in his system when he was on a mission, that crossed wires in his brain and made him think that this was perfectly fine. Lying about your kid being ill and locking you away for no fault of your own.
You two lapse into an uncomfortable silence, but not for long. No. Never for long, not with your dad around.
"I'm sorry you feel this way." There it is. He always says that-- not 'I'm sorry I'm basically holding you captive in the basement' or 'I'm sorry for not taking your thoughts, feelings, and dreams into consideration'. No, it's always 'i'm sorry you feel this way' or 'i'm sorry that you don't like it here',
Always followed up by an excuse, which speaking of, should be coming right about... "But there was no way around it. I just want the best for you, kid."
There we go-- he says that one a lot, 'there was no way around it'. You go to argue, but decide against it. It never gets you anywhere, and you consider going back to the silent treatment.
Until his hold on your shifted-- he flipped you over and pulled you up to sit. It never failed to spook you, how easily he could still move you around like you were a toddler. He worked as a government agent-- duh, he's going to be strong, but that didn't make it any less terrifying.
He could snap you like a goddamned toothpick if he so wished-- but you knew that wasn't a concern, not in the slightest. You much more afraid of him snapping anyone who was unfortunate to get close to you like a toothpick.
And then, his arm wrapped around your shoulder and pulled you close. The sort of side-hug was uncomfortable for you, physically speaking. Your neck straining at the angle it landed in, and you not caring enough to make nay move to alleviate it.
Surely, your dad noticed it-- but didn't comment on it. He did shift a little, though. Tried to have you more comfortable.
It worked a bit, but not by much. You couldn't be bothered to try any further.
"I love you, kid. You know that, don't you?" All he got in response was a little grunt, short and curt. What followed was the saddest little laugh you'd ever heard from your dad. "I know, I know. It doesn't feel like that, but I really am trying."
He pulled you closer, the hug feeling more like a boa constrictor's embrace than the comforting hold of a parent. "I can't lose you. I can lose anything else, but not you. Not my kid."
That part, you believed. Just for the clear, rock-solid resolve in his tone. You know he loves you-- you know that he doesn't want to lose you,
and that was part of the problem, a major one, no less.
"...I love you too." You manage to cough out, and only then did he release you from the ever-tightening, awkward side hug. As soon as you were free, you flopped right back on your side.
You didn't flip around to the face the wall just yet, thought. And your dad took that as an invitation for conversation-- you weren't too active in it, but you did give some input here and there.
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elles-home · 3 days ago
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you know how every so often you see posts circulating about a prophesized guy that runs away from the prophecy? that’s monkey d luffy
he isn’t even acknowledging it could be him. as far as he cares, all that’s really at hand here is that his peak form looks like this god guy. that’s it though. luffy’s not a god so like? really cool you guys are religious and bless your faith but that’s not him
and not to be the guy that says “that’s what makes him a good chosen one” because yeah kinda? like let’s look at existing prophecies about luffy specifically. the one about him destroying fishman island
luffy will leave that country in fire and ash and im doing so we know he is fulfilling some of the interpretations of the religious text: the destroyer who lays waste to all
and now i am heading into fanon spaces, people predict the destroying is a side effect of his liberation. ever since the prophecy of luffy destroying fishman island has been made, the fandom has theorized he will lift the people of fishman island above water. the great big ship in fishman island is there for a reason. and again, in doing so, he is fulfilling those theorized about him again, about the whole “the hero who appeared to save the world from disaster.”
i think the texts about nika is befitting of a god. what does a god care about the temporary destruction of a land if it is a means to achieving their goal of saving and liberating a people. a god knows people are resilient. a god will see through their vision and wont mind being branded as evil for doing so. a god knows best
and not to say luffy is a god because i am of the firm camp that luffy isnt nika reincarnated but he is the chosen one as in it has been prophesized someone like him would come and he is here and he isnt joyboy reincarnated either, as in the guy who is joyboy, but also again, he (luffy) is the chosen one for joy boy as well (i particularly subscribe to saiga tiberius runner on tiktok who theorizes that joyboy is a title rather than a name and is therefore one that is bestowed upon luffy as the liberator. which i think fits the whole someone will come 800 years later that will take the world by storm and his laughter will ring as he saves people. i like “joyboy” being a title more than a guy that luffy is reincarnated into)
anyway luffy being joyboy makes me happy because he does it because he wants to. he is kind because he wants to because someone fed him and he needs to be kind to them and he doesnt care if in being kind to them he is disrupting everything else (thinking about dressrosa right now) because nothing is more important to him than the selfish need to repay the debt
i may be repeating myself now but i adore luffy being exactly what is prophesized of him not because of a prophecy but because of who he is as a person down to his soul. because luffy isnt doing this because this was what was prophecised, he would be doing this regardless of set into motion 800 years ago, he would be doing this anyway because he wants to
regardless of a prophecy, luffy will be liberating because thats who he is. a boy that loves freedom and being free
luffy is freedom and liberation. and to him, its just a coincidence this god nika and this guy joyboy was too
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