#and then they burn out of the hobby within a few weeks. this is NOT sustainable. and extremely wasteful of time and resources

[un-pearable]

why are 99% of crochet animal patterns just vague blobs. cmon. i know we can do better as a community. have you seen the shit the national parks service put out? yeah, the NPS. there are grandmas on the frontlines of the most formally accurate critters this side of a 3D printer. we can do better than orb with two triangles sewn on. we can make a more accurate cat. that is NOT what a turtle looks like. step AWAY from the axolotl

[zosin-ya]

Topic 8 - [ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ɪɴᴅᴇx]

Summary: Surviving on instant noodles, you order takeout in the middle of exam prep—what you didn’t expect was your delivery guy to be a ridiculously hot, tattooed biker. Even more surprising? He’s a fellow med student at your university. As good as it sounded, he had a complicated past with an obsessive Ex who starts to target you.

tags.: One Piece, Law x Reader, SFW & NSFW, slow burn romance, Modern AU, Penguin and Shachi as flatmates, fashion-designer uncle Corazon, Laws parents, Laws crazy Ex, Strawhats as your friends (+ Bonney), protective Law, mentioned of his dead sister, also mentions of Laws trauma

a.n.: I pulled this story out of my ass and it’s rather spontaneous how I write the story. If you have ideas, I’m open to them 🖤

status: [ongoing] last updated Nov 20th 2024

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 1 - ʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴅᴇʟɪᴠᴇʀʏ

An awkward encounter with the handsome delivery guy, who hardly speaks to you, yet somehow makes your heart skip a beat with his pretty face.

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 2 - ɪᴄᴇ ʙʀᴇᴀᴋᴇʀ

Law was at your door once again, this time out of breath and visibly stressed. You offer him something to drink, which sparks a conversation that eventually leads to an exchange of numbers.

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 3 - ꜱᴛᴜᴅʏ ᴅᴀᴛᴇ

At the café, you met up for a study date and saw a more relaxed, yet still exhausted, side of Law. Penguin showed up, clearly curious as to why Law was hanging out with someone from his university—especially since he rarely spent time with those people.

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 4 - ʙᴏʏ ᴛᴀʟᴋ

Penguin couldn't keep his mouth shut about Law meeting you, which led him and Shachi to bombard him with questions. It was just a study date, right? No big deal. His flatmates quickly realized how oblivious he was. Or was he just denying any meaning, trying to protect himself from another crazy relationship.

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 5 - ʟᴀᴛᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛ ꜰᴜɴ

Law invites you to a party, and after a few drinks, the two of you start to loosen up around each other. So much that the bathroom becomes a short lived make out spot.

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 6 - ʟᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ʟᴏᴏꜱᴇ (n.sfw)

After you forgot your keys at home and had no where to stay, Law casually offers his apartment for the night without any second intentions. Though the heat from the make out session still lingering in the air.

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 7 - ᴡᴏʀᴛʜ ɪᴛ (n.sfw)

You meet Laws kind-hearted uncle, Rosinante, and learn more about his complex family history. What was supposed to be a casual, cozy game night with Law quickly takes an unexpected and more intimate turn.

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 8 - ᴅᴀɴɢᴇʀᴏᴜꜱ ᴇɴᴄᴏᴜɴᴛᴇʀᴍᴇɴᴛ

A girl you've never met before, starts a chit chat with you during an uni event, you being immediately drawn in by her friendly, outgoing nature. Before you knew it, she invited you to a small party where she hinted you could make some valuable connections. Little did you realize, networking with a biker gang wasn’t exactly what you had in mind for boosting your CV.

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 9 - ᴄʜᴀᴏᴛɪᴄ ɢᴀɴɢ

You dearly needed a girl's night with your friends after all what had happened. Law came to pick you up, yet got dragged into the chaos of a spontaneous party with your friends. Someone save this guy.

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 10 - ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴀʀᴇ ᴡᴇ? (n.sfw)

This day should have been special, with you and Law celebrating your academic milestone together with friends and family. Yet, Laws private and closed off personality shots back at him, causing you to break down.

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 11 - ʙᴜʀᴅᴇɴ

It had been weeks since you had talked to Law, feeling drained from the past events. You needed time to figure the relationship out, which caused you to run away from talking completely and be confronted with a storm, none of you were ready to face.

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 12 - ɴᴇᴡ ᴇᴍᴏᴛɪᴏɴꜱ (n.sfw)

Trying to mend the damage he had caused, Law makes an effort to open up to you this time. He shared pieces of his past, including hobbies he’d long buried. He never anticipated that attending Zoro’s Kendo tournament with you would reignite an old spark within him—or that it would stir a newfound desire to impress you.

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 13 - ᴇɴᴇᴍɪᴇꜱ ᴏʀ ᴀʟʟɪᴇꜱ

Two unexpected intruders—familiar faces no less—show up at your door, shocked to find you inside. Hired to break into what turned out to be the wrong apartment, Kid and Killer aren’t prepared for your defiance. Mustering all the courage you have, you scare them off and waste no time alerting Law, who doesn’t take kindly to their mistake and pays them a visit.

[ripleylove]

Daring woman.

pairing: Rhea Ripley x fem reader.

genre: angst

summary: Rhea, even after a long period of getting to know each other,still didn't open her heart to you,her old and indifferent behaviour taking the best of her,but you still fought for her.

A/N: based off this song below! Listen to it to get all the feelings 🤭

⋆ ˚｡⋆𔓘⭒๋࣭

You were heavily interested in Rhea,and you could tell she was too.

So why isn't she smiling to you? Why is she cold only to you?

Was it because she was afraid of falling for you,so she closed herself in her own shell?

That was her charm: her cold and closed off demeanour has always been attractive to you,and you weren't afraid to often do the first move or to express your interest in her.

Her indifferent tone and gaze sparked a fire within you,a fire of determination, that motivated you to get to know better,wanting to feel her love and affection.

For example, some weeks ago,you invited her to go out for a walk,and during said walk,her shoulders were almost heavy,as if she couldn't have her feelings bottled up anymore.

When you were walking in front of her,guiding her through all of the busy people on the street,you could feel her gaze burning your head.

Even while your hands were almost touching,she didn't utter a single word,and to break the ice (and mostly to show how much you care about her) you offered her a meal,going to a restaurant she preferred.

But that didn't really break the ice,like,at all.

Why was she behaving like this?

In the past few days,she didn't call you or text you,and you believed that if you didn't text her or call her she wouldn't bother to do it on her own.

You wanted her to tell you how she feels,that she wants you to be her woman,that she waited a long time to have you for any reason and that her heart desired you.

If you would speak first,telling her about your feelings,would you lose?

You knew you were inexperienced in this whole relationship thing,you knew that you were young,but that didn't stop you from longing for her more that anyone.

She didn't,she wouldn't,understand you: always disinterested in any of your hobbies or any of the things you told her,and you were starting to think that the whole pushing-away thing was being done on purpose,just like her blunt way of speaking and her indifference.

You knew she had real feelings for you,like you have for her,and you also knew that she would never come to you and tell you that she wanted you for herself.

You were like a little flower and Rhea was the water: you couldn't stand living without her in any universe or in any life.

You hoped she didn't have already a lover and that she wasn't actually hiding that from you.

At the beginning of this whole thing,you asked her that,and she declined: you were the only one she was talking to,and you believed her.

Sometimes it looked like it's a lie though, it looked like she loved to have many women behind her,courting her.

But you always believed otherwise,because she's actually a woman who doesn't easily give her heart to anyone,keeping it protected until she could.

One day you asked her:"What do you think of me?"

"Nothing."

That was her only answer. Her honey-like deep voice said that hurtful word so gracefully,that you almost didn't notice the way she said that: boringly and thoughtlessly.

This,and many other moments,didn't let you sleep at night,forcing you to toss and turn in your bed,phone in your hand with her whatsapp contact open,writing and deleting many messages you wanted to text her.

You kept fighting for her,you were bold,

you were a daring woman.

taglist: @stellakiddsblog @bibibi-tchx @p-mp @teenagedramaqueenlisa

[chipped-chimera]

Aquarium update - I have a Betta again! Got kind of burned last time so I travelled wayyyyy north from where I am to get her, along with some cories. It's been about two weeks since, judging my water changes (do about 25% a week, not because the water needs it but more because any longer and my filter gets gummed up) and she's been doing really well. She's changing rapidly, but she was very juvenile when I got her (like literally only a bit bigger than some of my green neons which max out at 3cm) which I expected, since marble gene. The contrast of a few weeks though is kinda nuts.

Not quite named yet, since honestly I was so burned from last time (RIP fish Karlach 😔) that I've been hesitant to name her or even share anything about her online. Also because I literally have no idea how she's gonna look in a few weeks as she matures.

I was thinking maybe Arita or Imari since her patterning reminds me of Asagi Koi and Imari-Arita Ware ceramics? Leaning towards Arita since it sounds a bit 'sassier' I guess (idk, vibes) and she definitely is that. I'll take suggestions though!

Anyway more fish rambling below -

Honestly I was so hesitant to get her, but I was already putting in replacement Cories after a mystery disease decimated my Corydora population, leaving my admittedly kind-of-fat female Three Lined solo. Whatever contagion was in the tank is either gone or dormant (since a lot of fish disease I know is entirely reliant on how stressed a fish is - they can still be a carrier but completely fine) after basically doing every treatment I had at my disposal. I think it was a mix of parasitic and bacterial, maybe fungal? Hard to target given all my tank tests consistently returned a big fat 0ppm for all the bad shit. My tank is about as clean as it gets - I only change about 25% weekly and that's more to clean sludge out of the filter, it never really needs it. Admittedly some of the deaths I contributed to because I wasn't aware how much my tank PH had changed over the months (test your PH regularly guys), apparently the huge chunks of wood have exhausted all their tannins cause I've gone from acidic to more basic. It seems to be holding about 7.8, apparently related to the Seiryu stone in there. Basically water changes caused the PH to flux to much, contributing to stress for the Cories. Yeah I feel bad but I'm also not blaming myself since a. Literally first tank b. I am learning the fish hobby is really annoying for consistent information. Like literally information that doesn't contradict itself half the time. A lot of that is the reason why I've been slowed down in figuring out what is going wrong and that ultimately has resulted in a lot of loss.

Important part though is everyone seems to be doing fine, and I've learned enough now to maybe recognise stuff a lot faster. One of the Pandas, after my first water change developed a big fungal streak down it's body (I'm guessing it scuffed itself in a panic somewhere) but had that treated easily within about 3 days with just Pimafix. No seriously, they're doing well. Well enough they apparently spawned? Saw the betta striking some mystery thing on the glass. I thought it was a freshwater limpet (they've been in there, just haven't seen them in a while) and realised no, actually an egg. Not opposed to this since I'm pretty close to stocking limit (at least in a regular, unplanted tank) so I'm down for the population control.

Betta really is a little predator though. She's honestly weird for a Betta in that she doesn't show interest in food. At all. She might nibble at a fallen bit but couldn't care less about anything I put on the surface or during feeding time. Been monitoring her weight, and she's definitely not underweight. Guess I have enough random critters in my tank (Planaria, about a million scuds since my last-ditch effort treatment to save a Cory decimated my shrimp population. I lost my favourite orange/red shrimp too 😭) to sustain her? Worry is of course I need to re-establish more shrimp. There are some left but nowhere NEAR what I had before. I've seen her chase a few who appear, she definitely has them on alert but they tend to be too big for her anyway. And too fast. Juveniles though ....

I do have a HUGE amount of hiding places for new, young shrimp (just moss. So much moss) but I think I'll maybe raise them in a netted isolation box until they're big enough that she's no longer a threat maybe? Idk. That or I get technically-not-allowed Cherry Shrimp from someone local, since they tend to be adults. Juveniles are kind of my only option at my local store.

Anyway that's the ramble!

[honey-beann]

I'd Burn Every Soul I Knew (If I Thought the Fire Was Warming You)

rk boys (Nines, Connor, Sixty) x Reader

Chapter "Two" - Base Urges

Word Count: 2,002

Warnings: Smut (so obvious NSFW), extremely small mention of blood at the very end.

Once upon a time, your relationship with the boys had been strictly platonic, hell, in the beginning it had even been professional.

But it was hard to think back to that when Nines was looking down at you with such hungry eyes, his gaze so full of want that you never would have believed he could muster it just a few years prior.

Except he wasn't nearly as robotic now as he was back then, and you could feel the evidence of that fact hard against your inner thigh as you sat on his lap in the dimly lit extra room of your apartment that he had firmly dubbed his office space just weeks after you'd all moved in.

That was a very Nines thing to do, to witness an empty space and within it see an opportunity for production where others might see a place to put a family.

Or, at least, that was how he'd thought upon moving in.

And it wasn't as if a change of the mind would have made any difference.

An android was an android, and the only family he could ever have was you and the fools he called brothers.

Which suited him just fine, because in his mind, you were the only person, thing, idea, that would ever be worth loving.

He had no interest in anything else that might take up space in his cold mechanical heart.

So, here you sat, in an office room that for another family might have housed a child or hobby, looking up at Nines' familiar face as he stared down at you with eyes of molten silver, the air so tense you almost felt it might hurt to breathe.

Maybe that was why you had been holding your breath since you'd taken your seat.

Not that you'd noticed.

The android in question continued to look down at you, expression as emotionless as ever despite his eyes speaking volumes until finally, he placed his hand below your breasts, directly above where lungs rested within, and spoke.

"Breathe."

He ordered you, voice raspy as if his vocal chords were capable of being under utilized despite their inhuman nature.

You shivered at the sound, but did as he said, taking a deep breath in.

He watched in what almost appeared to be wonder as your chest expanded beneath his hand before contracting as you breathed out again, and he remained almost transfixed at the sight until finally, a gentle sigh of his name from your lips had him looking into your eyes once more.

You nearly gasped at the intensity held within his gaze, and his head tilted at the sight of your surprise before he removed his hand from your diaphragm only to bring it upward, using his thumb to pull your bottom lip down as he watched you intently.

"Did you need something, little one?"

He murmured, and you swallowed thickly before shaking your head,

"I just wanted to know what you were doing all alone in here. I miss you."

You whispered, only for him to hum softly before he nodded, pulling his hand away from your face.

"My apologies, I've just been looking into potential leads regarding your brother's case. This is all far too exhausting for you to keep up, and the pace the FBI are taking the investigation isn't nearly fast enough."

You frowned a bit but nodded nonetheless, blushing as you met his gaze again and found that same hunger there as before, still so prevalent despite your casual conversation.

You shifted uncomfortably atop his lap, and heard him groan in response, head falling back slightly against the headrest of his office chair as one of his hands moved to grip your right hip in an effort to still you.

Taking his insistence regarding your stillness as a sign of discomfort on his part, you apologized gently, only to be pinned down by his piercing gaze as he tutted and shook his head at your confusion, the hand that wasn't glued to your hip finding its way up to your face in order to cup your jaw oh so delicately in spite of the domineering way it forced you to continue looking into his eyes as he spoke.

"Oh no sweetling, don't mistake my restraint for pain,"

He began as he ran his thumb across your cheek,

"I'm just doing my very best not to give you a real reason to squirm for me."

He murmured, voice low and eyes almost seeming to glow in the dim light as you let out a helpless whimper, body suddenly far too warm.

"Please."

You begged without thinking, eyes falling shut as you leaned your head backwards ever so slightly,

"I-I want you to touch me."

Nines chuckled, a taunting and almost strained sound that had you shivering upon his strong thighs.

"Oh but little lamb, I am touching you, aren't I?"

He all but whispered, leaning down so his lips grazed the shell of your ear,

"Or did you want more?"

You nodded fervently in response to his question, nearly gasping for air as your hands clenched into fists in the space between the two of you.

"More, please more Nines I- Oh!"

You cried out as his hand slid beneath your panties, finger pressing harshly against your clit in a way that had you instantly bucking up against his hand, already desperate to feel any pleasure he was willing to give you.

Nines had been the first (and so far the only one) of the androids to touch you like this, always knowing what you wanted without you even needing to ask, and always so very eager to give it to you.

In his mind, it was all for you.

Or, at least that was how it had been at first.

In the beginning, your sexual pleasure had been all that he was after, the idea of relieving you of your tension having once made him feel like he was simply fulfilling his job of taking care of you.

But now things were different.

Now his mind raced when you whimpered beneath his touch, and his artificial heart hammered when you squirmed atop his thighs, and the feeling of your slick walls clenching around his fingers never failed to make him wonder what they might feel like around his-

At that thought, he snapped, years of built up want breaking him down in an instant as he continued to rub at your already swollen clit, his lips now pressing firmly against your ear as he spoke.

"It isn't right, you know?"

He all but snarled, bucking his hips upward into nothing as he hissed at the built up tension within him,

"The things I want to do with you, they aren't things I was ever supposed to want, not things I was ever supposed to feel."

He groaned as he bit down on your neck, causing you to cry out as he sucked a mark into the supple skin there, desperate to prove that he did not only belong to you, but that your relationship went both ways.

He was yours, and you...

"Mine"

He growled out as he stood, bringing you with him and turning you around until your torso was suddenly pressed up against his desk, allowing him to rub his still clothed erection against the soaked spot on your panties as you cried out for him relentlessly, mind delirious with the want, with the need to feel him inside of you for the very first time.

He smirked as you begged, using two of his fingers to push your panties to the side before he slowly pushed them inside of you, groaning as your warmth enveloped him.

You whined, high pitched and keening at the feeling, hips rocking backwards as you urged him to give you more.

He groaned, stretching you out around his digits as he continued whispering filthy things against your ear, reminding you in every single way he could that you were his, that you always had been and always would be.

It was then, at those very words interestingly enough, that you came around his fingers, walls clenching around them as you called out his name over and over again, voice laden with desire and choked with pleasure as your legs shook beneath you.

He watched you come apart in awe, barely resisting the urge to palm himself at the sight of your beautiful body falling into uncontrollable bliss all because of him.

He worked you through your orgasm gently, all too aware of how easy it would be to exhaust you far too thoroughly if he did otherwise, until finally he spun you around and sat you atop his desk, admiring the way you looked amongst the files there, chest heaving and pussy dripping as he peeled your panties off and shoved them into his pocket, smirking down at you as you watched him with extremely pink cheeks.

"So beautiful."

He murmured as he reached down to cup your cheek, bringing his lips to your forehead as you shivered once more at the sound of his voice, your eyes staring intensely into his own as you wiggled your hips tantalizingly atop his desk.

"I want you."

You whispered, voice still desperate and body absolutely tingling with need.

He smirked,

"You have me."

He corrected, watching as you pouted in response, whining as you raised your hips off of the sturdy wood and into the air, taunting him with just how close by you really were, and with just how ready your body was for him, how needy it was.

He groaned again, running a hand through his hair and over his face as he tried to retain the last vestiges of his control, his patience hanging on by a thread.

"I want you."

You repeated as you continued looking deep into his eyes, begging him to fall apart just once, to fall into you and let himself do this one thing he was not made for, to let himself commit a cardinal sin of a non-living thing, to claim the soul of another for himself, as if he had one he could ever give in return.

He shook beneath your gaze, struggling to maintain his facade of control as he looked at you through half lidded eyes and heavily mussed up hair.

"You will be the death of me."

He promised before he leaned in to capture your lips with his own, kissing you ever so briefly before he pulled back as if he'd been set ablaze, hands clenched into fists at his sides.

His body felt so unnaturally warm, and his mind felt flooded with burdensome desires he could not help but fear.

Was this what it felt like to be human? To crave someone's body as if it were some long missing part of you?

He far preferred the nothingness he had felt before to this seemingly endless and maddening pain.

He took a staggering step away from you, still staring, unable to come closer even as you reached out, worry etched into every single one of your oh so beautiful features.

He took another step away, and another, before finally he was able to open his mouth and speak the only words he could offer regarding his sudden reaction to your closeness.

"What have you done to me?"

He muttered in shock, looking down at his still clenched fists before he stormed out of the room and eventually the apartment as well, the door slamming behind him as you remained, naked below the waist atop his desk, until Connor came to find you, and you cried into his chest until the sun rose.

The next time you saw Nines, a bullet was ripping straight through his chest, and his blood was beginning to adorn your flesh.

masterlist

AO3

[hearts4renaa]

THE LAST TIME.

summary: the breaking point in your relationship. featuring kaeya.

w/c: 0.5k words

tw: alcoholism

a/n: ik i said i was gonna make the next one happy but i lied. sorry lol. listened to “the last time” by gary lightbody and taylor swift while writing

“Kaeya. Where the hell have you been?” Your voice is accusatory, your anger evident.

Kaeya stumbles into the living room. He reeks of alcohol. “Just…*hic* …out drinking. At Angels Share.” His words are slurred, throat scratchy. You sigh, running a hand through your hair. You were so tired. This is the fifth time within the past two weeks that Kaeya would disappear without a trace, then show up at the door of your shared house. And every time, he had drunk himself to oblivion.

It wasn’t unknown to you that Kaeya enjoyed drinking at a leisurely pace. However, his hobby became a problem soon enough. He missed dinner, dates, outings with friends. The sheer embarrassment of having to explain where Kaeya was when your friends asked was almost intolerable. Every time, you had to make up excuses for him. “He’s busy with work.” “He’s resting today, his training was harder than usual today.” “He was assigned to train new knights, he can’t make it.”

Today wasn’t any different. The two of you made plans with a group of friends to have dinner. Lo and behold, Kaeya went off drinking again. You didn’t even bother to show up yourself. You knew your friends weren’t stupid. Sooner or later, they’d become skeptical of Kaeya’s reasons for his absence. The last thing you needed was people to talk.

“I can’t do this…” You mutter under your breath. “I can’t be with you knowing that I’m not your first priority…” Your eyes begin to burn with tears, frustrated at the situation.

“Can’t do what, sweetheart?” He slurs, drunkenly swinging an arm around your shoulder. You shake him off you roughly, startling him. You take a few steps away from him, creating a rift between the two of you. But honestly, it feels as if the emotional rift was already there.

“Can’t do whatever this is with you, Kaeya.” Your voice is exasperated. “You said you’d do better. You said you’d show up tonight.”

“Huh?” Kaeya tilts his head in drunken confusion. “Show up for what?”

You swear you could feel your anger grow, and a few angry tears slip from your eyes. “By the Seven, Kaeya,” You raise your voice. “For dinner! Kaeya, you said you’d be better! You said you’d stop! I really can’t do this anymore.” You fumed. “I can’t…can’t do us.” You began to stride towards your master bedroom, hauling a backpack out of the closet and messily stuffing clothes inside.

Kaeya’s comprehension was still clouded by alcohol, he followed after you blindly, completely silent. You zipped up the bag and stared at him, acknowledging his silence. Your eyes are downcast as you remove the silver chain necklace he purchased for you. You set it on your once shared bed before leaving the bedroom. Before leaving the house. Before leaving him.

The door slams and suddenly it hits Kaeya all at once. He gently picks up the abandoned necklace, as if it was the most delicate thing in the world. He walks back to the living room, as if he was tracing your steps. He chuckles bitterly at the situation, sitting himself on the couch. “This always happens.” His voice is sad, crestfallen.

He reaches for the bottle.

[nothing0fnothing]

My mums favorite hobby when I was very young was to instill an irrational fear inside me for days or weeks before exposing me to whatever she'd taught me to be afraid of all at once, in public, so she could bask in the chaos and play the long suffering, saintly mother.

One time, she did this to me with ice skating.

My mother one day, decided to start telling me "real" stories from her childhood about the dangers of ice skating; broken bones from failed tricks, frozen rug burns from being dragged across the ice, shards of ice stabbing eyes and blinding people, kids falling down and having their fingers sliced off as someone skated over them, people getting tangled up in the ice cleaner. Just some real fantastical Final Destination shit. I was nine and she was my mother so I believed these absolutely insane stories of hers, and had nightmares about horrific ice skating accidents for days. She would tell these stories casually, on the drive to school or while she made dinner, every few days for a few weeks. Always when I was alone. I'd listen intently and go wide eyed and ask questions she would gleefully respond with the most gorry and horrifying answers to. So in few weeks, guess what I was absolutely terrified of.. and guess where she surprised me with a super fun day out of?

She had planned with her friends to get us kids all together and all go ice skating. Obviously to everyone else, this sounded perfect. Kids love ice skating, we were kids, who would have a problem with that?

I begged my mum to please say I didn't have to go on the ice. Couldn't I just stay in the cafe with the grown ups and watch the other kids have fun? "No. We've paid all this money for you to skate so have fun like the normal kids and skate."

"Please" I begged. "I promise I'll be quiet and I won't listen to your conversation and I won't ask for tea or cola. Just don't make me go on the ice"

Sometimes she would have allowed it. She'd have sat across from me and spat the occasional hurtful comment my way to ensure we could both look a sorry sight and she could bask in the image that it was hard to be my mother. Not today though. Today, had more drama potential and my mum was milking it. Responding in cruel, unfeeling short responses to get me as upset as possible so the other grown ups would look over and see the small scene I was creating.

She dragged me to a bench, forced me into some skates a size too small, tight laced them painfully around my feet and practically shoved me into the rink.

I tried for a while. I gripped the side and tried to feel confident. And then I cried and hyperventilated on the ice until one of my mothers friends came and collected me.

He was a sweet man with two daughter's around my age who he adored. He reassuringly held my hand while I gripped the side of the rink with the other and at my pace, guided me off the ice. Once we were on solid ground he gave me a tissue to wipe my tears, gently helped me to take my skates off and sat me down with his wife while he bought me a cup of tea. I put four sugar cubes into it and ate three more. They asked me about my special interests and told me all about their gardening plans. Within minutes I was smiling and chatting happily. It meant a lot to me. I knew grown ups take their kids to these places to have some peace away from the kids, yet they'd gone out of their way to make me feel like they were friends.

My parents had actually told him to leave me on the ice. They told him I was throwing a tantrum because I wanted to go to the cinema instead, and in spite I was trying to ruin everyone elses fun. They said I was difficult and selfish and manipulative, and everything always had to go my way, that I would ruin the whole day for everyone if they indulged me, and to pay attention to me was to give me what I wanted. They painted me out to be some kind of tiny tyrant, effortlessly manipulating grown adults to my childish whims.

Some of the other adults clearly believed it. I could feel it in the nasty glances and sharp tones they took with me. They would ask me why I was crying and roll their eyes when I honestly answered that I was scared. I could see in the way they reacted to me, they were wondering what kind of kid was that scared of ice? Why would her mother lie?

I know why she did it. She liked to see me afraid and distressed yes, but she loved the sympathy even more. How sad for her, trapped in a home with a petulant bitch like me, willing to turn on the waterworks at an ice rink to ruin everyone's good day. How hard must it be for her, to be the mother of a nine year old with the manipulation skills of someone in their thirties. There was no sympathy left for me, she took it all.

Except on that day, when a very kind man decided to not believe her, and instead saw little me crying on the ice for what I was, a sad little girl who deserved a friend.

[yourlocaltreesimp]

vent below the cut

Sorry to drop this kind of suddenly, i’m going to be taking another brake. I’ll still be on the site, but life’s gotten progressively worse and I’m honestly just too tired. I’m too tired to write. I’m too tired to draw. I’m too tired to do anything but exist at the moment. won’t bother with the specifics, but i’ll probably be ok and returned within a week or so? the rest of this is gonna be a word vomit so, yeah. I’ve been having an unhealthy relationship with my writing. To me, if it’s not perfect or not loved by everyone, then it’s not a success. As you can probably imagine, i’ve burned myself out trying to get better and achieve some sense of pride for myself, but i’ve only been digging a grave. I’ve been suffocating myself within my hobbies and now socially too with my personal life. I’ve been cutting people off— some intentionally, most not so. I’m sorry if that’s the case. It’s gotten worse over the span of the past few months and no matter who i talk to is just seems like my problems aren’t serious because of the persona i’ve crafted for myself. I’m supposed to fix problems, not have them. And now that I do, people are cutting me out. I’m not worth it anymore. To them at least. I’m going to take a bit to steady myself, hopefully work through my problems and come back with a better approach.

[spiderpider]

can you hit us w some hcs for what the mercs do in their spare time maybe? :0

YES!!!! I'll put it under the cut because I'm gonna get elaborate

What Mercs do in their spare times!

Scout - Scout is really the only member of the team that isn't satisfied doing the same thing over and over again. He gets antsy fast- he's the first to suggest dumb excursions and the first to accept them. He loves visiting new places to scope out the best bars, and of course to set the world record in getting kicked out for flirting with the bartenders. Batting cages and running tracks are also high on his priority list! When he feels like spending a day at home, he'll pour over comic books, and maybe vandalize the base with scribbles and graffiti.

Soldier - Taking inspiration from his career as a tour guide, I think Soldier really likes visiting museums. Of course, he's an absolute nightmare to bring anywhere. He's enthusiastic, but Jane will explain just about anything, anywhere, ad nauseam. Go to a history museum? Soldier's gonna tell you how the was actually weaponizing raccoons and weapons made out of garbage. When he isn't terrorizing Teufort, he's probably at the base bossing everyone else around.

Pyro - Honestly probably setting forest fires. And stealing shit from campsites right before they set said fires. Teufort officials have yet to explain the rise of arson/robberies in the woodlands, but they're close. The current theory is a picnic-basket loving bear that just happens to have a penchant for arson. When they're not terrorizing campers, Pyro loves sewing! They make their own plushies, and they're getting pretty good at it!

Demoman - Weirdly enough, Demo loves going to the beach / desert to look for treasure. You can usually find him with a dingy old metal detector. It started off as a secret santa gift that blossomed into a genuine hobby! When he's at the base, he loves watching soaps on TV. Doesn't matter if it's the middle of a season, or something he's never seen before. He'll get really invested really quick. He's kind of a hopeless romantic. You'll usually see Demo, Medic and Spy surrounding the TV yelling at it.

Heavy - I think Heavy really does enjoy reading! That PHD in literature isn't just for show, he probably journals his thoughts and essays on the stuff he's read, too. Weather permitting, he'd like to sit outside and maybe even garden? Something calming and most importantly: quiet. His favorite things to garden are definitely hearty leafy-plants, and vegetables. He likes flowers, but they mess with his allergies. There's something extremely relaxing about being able to tend to-and protect- little baby-plants from the elements.

Engineer - Surprisingly enough, he likes fishing! On his days off he'll go down to the nearest lake, plop on the edge of the dock and fish for a few hours. He also loves solving puzzles, he routinely finishes the crossword before anyone even gets a chance to look at the daily paper. He's also the go-to repair man around the base (though he doesn't consider this much of a hobby, he has to admit that nothing feels better than solving problem, even if it is a leaky pipe.) He's dabbled in woodworking, too. Definitely has built a chair just for the heck of it.

Medic - The scientific pursuit of knowledge drives him- but you can't do science 24/7, even Medic would be burned out within a few years! He's definitely a workaholic, but when he's forced to have spare time, he really likes practicing the violin. He's one of those people that can pick up a hobby and won't set it down until he masters it (or, gets frustrated that he can't pick it up immediately and abandons it after about a week of work. There's a ton of half-knitted scarves shoved into drawers.) Taking care of his birds isn't exactly a hobby, but he does give them extra care and love when he has more spare time.

Sniper - Definitely going on hikes, hunting game and going on "vision quests". The dude is weird. He likes solitary activities, and rarely "hangs out" with anyone else. Really, really has a knack for taxidermy. He's one of those guys that doesn't try to go campy or kitschy with it though, thinks the little taxidermy squirrels in top hats are for serial killers and psychos. He sticks to trying to make them as realistic as possible, thinks it's way more respectful that way. He's spent more than a few weekends testing his wilderness survival abilities, too.

Spy - Honestly, it depends on his mood. He's definitely spent sour afternoons just smoking, drinking and reading his Dapper Cadaver magazines for hours on end. When he's not pouting, Spy is traveling. Anything to get out of a town made of 90% gravel. He likes visiting art museums, wine tasting, anything that he can brag about to the other Mercs. Secretly, though, he loves going to see B movies in theaters (obviously disguised). Cheap thrills are a guilty pleasure that he is incredibly embarrassed about.

[agentsquirrelsgotrobots]

The Stars, The Moon, The Sun, and an Incoming Constellation

Part two

also posted on my a03, Agentsquirrel

The next day, they went back to their regularly scheduled house hunting. They found a purple Victorian in need of repairs with all original wood cabinets and flooring. By the sheer excitement in Sam's eyes, she would have murdered Danny if he didn't let her pay cash on the spot.

They were moved in by the end of the month, Danny finding out the place was haunted by more than a few child ghosts, who insisted on their newest little sibling having their room right next to theirs, and that they get a hobby horse.

Both Danny considered reasonable demands, and really, they were going to use that room anyway, as it was closest to their room. With a single phone call, Sam had her parents sending her family's heirloom cradle and rocking chair to be delivered within the week.

The nursery was going to be space themed, of course, and Tucker was already tinkering with a high-tech baby monitor. Unexpectedly, the doorbell rang, and Danny resisted the urge to phase through the floor to get to the door, reminding himself that they didn't have blinds yet.

Surprisingly, a green bulldozer was in their driveway, the police officer from the other day, and a blond man standing on their front stoop. Danny answered the door, trying not to sound as nervous as he was.

"Anything wrong, officer?" Danny asked, blocking them from seeing inside.

"Are you Danny Mason?" Charlie asked, slipping into Police Chief mode.

Danny nodded. "Yes."

"We are here to take your statement. I'm Graham Burns, the town's Civic Engineer. This is my dad-"

"Griffin Rock Police Chief Charlie Burns." Charlie offered his hand, and Danny shook it.

"Legally, I am still Daniel James Fenton, as my legal name change is still pending. But, I prefer to be Mr. Mason, or Danny, if we have to be casual."

"Of course, is Mrs. Mason home?" Charlie asked, making a note to edit his reports.

"Yes, permission to go back inside to get her?"

"Of course, but you aren't -" Danny slipped back inside before Charlie could finish, shutting the door in his face. "-Being questioned." He finished, rubbing his eyes in irritation.

Danny came back with Sam quickly, a fake smile on both their faces.

"Hello." Sam said, quite uncomfortable.

"Sam Mason?" Charlie asked.

"That's me." She answered stiffly.

"I wanted to ask you questions about yesterday's incident."

"Of course. Would you like to come in? There's not much furniture, but Danny could grab a camping chair from his office if need be."

"That's not necessary. Could you tell me how you got caught in that fight?"

"We were wandering around after Tucker took the car. We needed to use the restroom, and he decided to be an ass and drive away as a prank. Unfortunately, neither of us could use a map if it killed us, and we ended up in the restricted area. We were looking for an employee when those guys opened fire, and from there, we were just trying to survive." Sam said.

"I got lost in the smoke and took my time trying to get out." Danny said. "The hospital staff took my shoes and socks, and Sam's shirt, they are with mainland police."

"That's all I needed to know. Have a good day." Charlie said, pulling Graham with him as he left.

They got into Boulder, and Charlie gave Graham a look. "Next time, let me talk."

Graham cleaned his glasses and sighed. "Got it."

They drove back, and Charlie called a family meeting.

"Guys, they know nothing. Tomorrow, I will go pick up evidence from the mainland, but for the moment, Dani, Graham, I want you to at least try to fish for information. I want to know what killed those men, and why."

"Sammy?" Danny said, his voice that tired tone he gets after processing a bad fight. "Are you sure those gangsters were bad?"

"Yes, Danny, they wanted to kill us and followed us across state lines. Now, they know that this is Phantom's territory, and we can focus on the future baby and setting up a proper home."

Danny chuckled. "You sound like your mother."

"My mother didn't let man-eating hot dogs lead a revolution."

"Fair. I mean, at least the local schools are decent."

"And about to get a nice donation." Tucker said, his usual beanie replaced with a red silk scarf and rumpled from his mid afternoon nap. "The blinds should be here in a few days. Until then, Danny, feet on the ground."

Danny sighed. "Got it. Can't pretend Phantom is just a wig and contacts anymore."

"Uhh, no. You have the night sky as a skin tone, and your eyes are all melty now that you are a fully fledged ghost." Sam said. "I mean, it's gorgeous, but doesn't pass as human."

"Could I at least go flying? Please? I will stay out of the way of the helicopter?" Danny begged.

"Fine. But be careful." Sam said, knowing he would have snuck out to do it anyway. They all slept in separate rooms anyway, as they all preferred different sleeping arrangements, as Sam's a blanket hog, Danny needs a night light, and Tucker is a night owl.

As soon as the sun set, Danny went for a walk, found an unlit area, and bolted towards the sky, transforming as he went. He became a green bolt of light, twisting and turning in the sky. He went as high as he was comfortable, feeling the wind try to pull himself along. He knew he was unconsciously phasing through the worst of the wind currents, so when he grabbed onto gravity and started to free fall, the wind hit him at full force, his back stinging from the biting wind.

He pulled back up before he hit the tree line and surveyed the docks. A cleanup crew had been through already, though the bullet holes had yet to be patched.

Danny continued flying, performing loop de loops and aerial tricks for an audience of no one. At least, he thought so.

Just below him, Huxley was filming with his altered cell phone, secured against the getting one last good shot of the being’s face before sending it to Chief Burns. He had learned his lesson with the invasion incident and, with no backup, didn't want to risk being attacked by the otherwise oblivious creature.

Danny circled back to the edge of the suburbs, dropping down into a tall patch of grass and fighting his way back out, spitting out a few blades that had somehow made it into his mouth. He walked back to the house, fumbling with his house key and managing to trip over several boxes before falling into a lawn chair, breaking it. Sam flipped on the light, unimpressed.

“Really? Could you have been any louder?” She asked, her long, floor-length robe made of silk and dyed reclaimed rabbit fur, swishing over the cracked floorboards that desperately needed to be refinished.

She had the epiphany that the most sustainable way of buying clothes was wearing out what you already own and buying quality, sustainably sourced pieces from brands and artists that align with your values. She was still vegan but realized that buying plastic to avoid animal cruelty was a bit of an oxymoron. She found a variety of artists that worked with all reclaimed and ethically sourced materials and, as her clothes aged and wore out, had been slowly replacing them. Each piece was pricey, but she knew they would last, and no one was exploited in the creation process. After her tulle robe had ripped, Tucker had bought it for her as a Christmas gift (they celebrated mostly Jewish holidays, as Sam's family is Jewish, but Danny loves Christmas, so they usually had a small tree and a couple presents. Tucker insists on going to his parents' house for Thanksgiving. )

“Sorry. I realized I couldn't just drop in the front yard.”

“No you cannot. Go to the bathroom, check yourself for ticks, change, and come snuggle. I want Danny hugs tonight.”

Danny smiled and gave his favorite goth overlord a peck on the cheek before changing and heading up to bed.

[starg1rlie]

if ur fine with it 💍w/scara? my personality is pretty meh imo, im mostly extroverted and very talkative. if i’m honest i’m pretty ambitious with a lot of things and i’m very self disciplined according to my close relatives and friends. also i’m pretty confident in myself but not overly confident to the point i’ll start doing the most stupidest things. i also believe im well organized so i’ll freak tf out if everything is a mess (one time i had a mental breakdown bc i forgot to clean my room before going to school). also i’m pretty rude on a surface level, since i unintentionally insult people right in front of them. though with closer friends im very gentle n kind with them, i’ll show a lot of affection to them even in public. that’s mostly it so now moving to the hobby parts, personally i don’t think i have one? since mostly i’m studying, but if i do have free time i’ll either make plans with friends or play video games. i do have a little talent for the piano, i’m pretty mid at it but i can play a few songs. mostly i don’t have time to explore hobbies since i have extracurricular activities and studying💔 + some stuff wit my personality i forgot to add. whenever i pursue something i’m definitely not gonna take any break until i’m close to achieving it :)

(mb if i didn't pay much attention to your personality traits/hobbies, i was simply busy thinking of little things the two of you would do. i hope i incorporated enough to satisfy you, and make up for how long it took me to push out this post...)

pushing him in a shopping cart

at first, he protests. a lot. but he’ll get into the cart eventually, only because you’d bug him for the next week or so if he didn't. lowkey has to hold onto the side of the cart because you’re definitely going to go zooming down the aisles. he’s the one who grabs the stuff while you’re just having the time of your life. y’all get called out by the employees later but it was worth it :)

helping him paint his nails black bc he's going thru an emo phase

scaramouche does not see the appeal of bright colors. he himself prefers black, white, and grey, which are all simple and monotonous colors. like him/j. which is probably why his wardrobe looks like it went through the black and white snapchat filter. he even paints his nails black, or, well, attempts to. his adoptive little sister, qiqi, paints her nails black as well, because she wants to be like gege too. you end up painting both of their nails some of the time, and then yall post pics of you guys flaunting your nails like "don't mess with the emo bitches."

holding hands on the bus together

since your school is far, and most definitely not walking-distance, your friendly little neighbor (yall live in the same neighborhood) and you end up walking and waiting at the bus stop quite often, unless scaramouche's mom isn't too occupied with her girlfriend to drive him to school. you'll purposely sit next to him, just to piss him off, which works, but he'll take your hand in his anyways. if you breathe a word about it to anyone, though, he'll murder you.

cooking/baking (burning the house down) and failing miserably at it

he takes after his mum (ei), so i wouldn't suggest letting this emo boy within six feet of a stove or oven. of course, you ddin't know how bad it was until the two of you attempted to bake a birthday cake for his sister, qiqi. everything was going smoothly (minus the eggshells in the cake batter) until someone forgot to look after the oven. the cake (obviously) was ruined, burned black and was as hard as a brick. still, you had to make do with what you had, and scaramouche did some pretty decent icing work, even though qiqi refused to eat it, saying it'd break her teeth. another time, the two of you attempted to make a simple stir-fry, and apparently, scaramouche didn't understand that you had to stir slowly and carefully so that the food inside wouldn't spill out...you two ended up cleaning cabbage and chicken off of the stove for the rest of the night.

babysitting his (adoptive) sister qiqi

since ei is often busy at work and with her new girlfriend (pretty woman, her name's yae miko), scaramouche often finds himself looking after qiqi on his own. she doesn't really bug him while he's doing his homework, thankfully, but he does feel a tiny bit bad about leaving her with nothing to do. that's your cue. he'd call you to come over, and the two of you will probably just watch movies, play sorry or monopoly (scaramouche always seems to get bumped back or in jail), and stuff your faces with the chocolate ice cream in the fridge, even though ei specifically said no chocolate for qiqi. but rules were meant to be broken, no? and besides, he had to spoil his little sister some of the time, didn't he?

neat. 👏 freak. 👏 couple.

i swear, yall are a couple of fucking neat freaks (no offense). there ain't a spick of dust or a single pencil out of place in your guys' rooms and it CREEPS. ME. OUT. ahem, anyways. if your room (or his) ended up becoming dirty (which would probably never really happen to you, more on his side anyways), he'd probably help clean it up, but its mostly just you two vibing to the spotify playlist he set up.

he'll listen to you play the piano

whenever he's not busy, he'll pull up a seat next to you and just, quietly watch you play. he never comments about it, but if qiqi is in the same room, she'll clap her hands together slowly. she's actually quite fond of your piano music, and will probably ask you to teach 'gege' so he can teach her.

ngl, you probably insulted him

i'm not even gonna mince words here. you probably insulted him on his first day at your school. "damn, what happened to your horomones?" he glared at you and said that not all guys got the best of the gene pool. your day-to-day interactions with him at school has probably been mostly just you talking down on him and him just shooting insults right back at you 💀

he has to deal with you overworking yourself

he'll find you, laid out on your table, with exam papers spread out under your arms, snoring like a beast (no offense if you don't snore like that, or you don't snore at all-) and will gently place a blanket over you, along with a chaste forehead kiss. "the only reason you get better grades than me is because you overwork yourself so much," he'll murmur under his breath as he quickly finishes off whatever project or homework assignment you'd been working on.

matching bunny hats (yk, the ones w/the floppy ears <33)

he finds them ridiculous at first, but qiqi grew fond of them, and eventually, she was able to get him onboard about it. of course, you have to take a few (a lot of) photos, and even post a cute lil' couples tiktok of the two of you guys' ears flopping up in sync <33

[medusanova]

Andylind + Portrait drawing aka Roz's hobby

His hands shook as they sifted through the papers on her desk, the creased pages sticking to his fingers as he shuffled through them. Documents, statements, proof. Anything that might indicate where she might’ve gone. Why she might’ve gone.

What’s that in your hands, General? 

What did I tell you about prying?

He’d known something was coming for weeks now. Something big. 

It was obvious in the way her militant, unyielding directives turned into loud, erratic outbursts. In the way she became almost neurotic about the battalion’s preparation for combat. In the way her fierce, confident appearance became slightly disheveled, as intense and shocking to him as an arrow to the chest, if not to everyone else. 

When’re you going to tell me what you’re writing in there? 

The day you decide you’d like to be a soldier who can obey commands and mind his own business. 

He picked up another pile of correspondence, skimming through her bold yet decidedly feminine scrawl. He felt a swelling ache fill the space behind his ribs as his eyes traced the soft lines on the paper, a stark contrast to the sharp edges she carved into the world.

Nothing. Fucking nothing. He added the letters to the growing stack on the chair behind him.

Increasingly desperate for some kind of answer — for some explanation as to why he walked into her tent this morning and saw an empty bedroll stamped in footprints of dirt and blood — he turned back to the pile on the desk and continued rifling through more bloody documents. He heard his breaths become more labored, the beats of his heart make their way up to his throat as he neared the end.

As he came upon the last few pages something fell out, tumbling back onto the scuffed desk and opening face down. He stilled as he stared at the all-too-familiar brown leather. 

The notebook. 

Why do you keep staring at me like that? 

Just wondering if I should demote you for that embarrassing display of combat skills yesterday. 

C’mon, General. It was me against three Burned Ones. 

Precisely. 

Slowly extending his hand toward it, he glanced around. As if she’d somehow appear to reprimand him for his curiosity. As if she might waltz in and distract him with her hands and mouth like she had every other time the notebook had been within his reach.

Cursing his sentimentality as he stroked the soft cover, he picked it up, leather crackling as he flipped it over to see the page it had fallen open to. 

Andreas’ breath caught as he stared at the unexpected sight before him. A mirror image of himself gazing sharply back at him, the corner of his brow quirked upwards, the scruff of his beard traced in grays and blacks, his mouth tilted up in a knowing smile that hid a secret. That hid their secret.

This, whatever it is, doesn’t leave this tent.

You embarrassed, General?

…I want to keep it for myself.

And his eyes. They held a little too much honesty, too much vulnerability. Too much love. And it made him question just how much of his heart was stitched onto his sleeve.

He flipped through, page after page sketched with some version of him — training, thinking, winking, smirking, sleeping — his paper twin, made of ink instead of flesh and bone.

Andreas took a steadying breath as he closed the notebook, allowing his lungs a moment to consume his surge of emotion once more before he brushed the spine of the book, tucked it into the pocket by his chest, and stormed out of the tent.

Strides purposeful, jaw set in determination, and eyes blazing with unspoken commands for the soldiers around him, he only thought one thing.

I’m coming for you.

[minimalist-language-learning]

Too serious or not serious enough?

Do some people take language learning too serious or not serious enough?

I've seen comments where language learners criticize others for being "too hardcore", "too obsessive" or "too serious". At the same time there are "serious" language learners who criticize others for being "not efficient", "lazy" or "not serious enough", because they prefer to learn at their own pace, take breaks or like to learn several languages instead of focusing on one language to reach a native-like level as fast as possible.

People also argue a lot about whose achievements are more impressive: The one who learned several languages to a level at where they can use the language comfortably (not perfect but they can use their language skills the way they want). Or the one who reached a native-like level in one language within a few years (especially if it's a language that is considered (from a westeners perspective) as very difficult and exotic, like Japanese, Chinese, Korean, ... ).

Does it really matter, if others are impressed? 

Sometimes I have the impression, that some people learn a language to impress. Maybe it's not their only motivation, but it seems like the "coolness factor" is important to them. They treat language learning like a sport or competition. This may be the reason why many people criticize some "serious language learners" for being "arrogant" and for "looking down on others".

On the other hand, some "serious language learners" make fun of casual language learners who like to learn several languages. Because they speak one or two of them fluently (good but not native-level), for example, but the level of the other languages is not very high. In their opinion, it's pointless to do something without becoming really good in a short amount of time. They don't want to learn a language for 10 years until they reach a high level — they want to be really good as fast as possible. Dabbling in different languages seems to be a waste of time in their opinion. 

So, who is right? Which path is better? 

Comparing casual joggers with marathon runners

When I see how fiercely both sides defend their way of learning and criticize each other for being too serious or not serious enough, I think that they are not aware that everyone has different goals and a different personality. Not everyone can learn a language "hardcore" without burning out. But what is too hardcore for one person may be ok for another person. 

There are people who like to work hard and feel great if they make fast progress. They would hate it to learn a language casually because they would feel like they are wasting their time. They want to make progress. They want to compete. This is what drives them forward. This is not necessarily a negative thing, as long as it doesn't turn into obsessive and unhealthy behavior. It's just how they are. 

People who treat language learning more like a hobby and not like a sport, on the other hand, have other goals and priorities than the "serious learners". Maybe they are interested in many languages and cultures. They may be completely satisfied to reach a level at where they can communicate with their friends or neighbors who are native speakers of their target languages. They are not afraid to make mistakes. There's no necessity to speak exactly like a native. They don't want to impress. Or they watch movies in their target languages once or twice a week — just for fun, not to reach the next level. They just want to have a good time. That's also absolutely fine!

Comparing the learning style of people with different goals is like comparing someone who jogs for fun with someone who is training for a marathon. One person just wants to feel good, the other person wants to win. Both goals are valid. If you want to win a marathon, it doesn't make sense to do what the casual jogger does (and vice versa), of course.

In my opinion, it doesn't matter which path you choose, as long as you are satisfied and spend your time in a way you really enjoy. There's nothing wrong with being ambitious and working towards your goal, as long as it doesn't turn into obsessive and unhealthy behavior. It's also okay, if you learn different languages just for fun without reaching a high level. You don't have to impress anyone. If you feel good and enjoy what you are doing, you do it right.

Please note that just because a certain learning style is not right for you doesn't mean that it's wrong for everyone. Other people may have other goals and priorities than you. This influences their learning style. There's no reason to criticize other people for their "too hardcore" or "too inefficient" learning styles. Their way to learn a language is probably right for them.

[dystini]

Indycar Driver Lore

Indycar Driver Lore Masterlist

Álex Palou Montalbo

Birthdate: April 1, 1997 Hometown: Barcelona, Spain Residence: Indianapolis, Indiana Height/Weight: 6’0”/154lbs

Rookie Year: 202-

Team: Chip Ganassi Racing

Follow him on: Instagram Twitter Twitch

Career Stats

2020: Dale Coyne Racing w/ Team Goh - 16th Overall 2021: Chip Ganassi Racing - 1st Overall 2022: Chip Ganassi Racing - 5th Overall 2023: Chip Ganassi Racing - 1st Overall

2022 Testing and Free practice with McLaren F1 2023 McLaren F1 reserve driver

-Won the 2021 NTT INDYCAR SERIES championship, the first Spaniard to win an NTT INDYCAR SERIES title. -Has competed and won races in Euroformula Open, Spanish Formula 3, GP3, Japanese Formula 3 and Super Formula, -2019 Super Formula Rookie of the Year -Knows three languages including: Spanish, English and Italian. -His hobbies are sports, outdoor activities and music. Celebrates his INDYCAR SERIES wins by eating fried chicken. -First became interested in racing after seeing a go-kart track while walking to school with his father in their hometown in Spain. -Coffee connoisseur – owned a coffee shop in Spain, sold his own branded coffee.

'It's not easy': Alex Palou opens up about Indy 500 heartbreak INSIDE THE RACE // ALEX PALOU AT THE ACURA GRAND PRIX OF LONG BEACH Alex Palou: From Spain With Speed (FULL INTERVIEW) Pato O'Ward already won race, Alex Palou didn't want him steal show F1 2022: Alex Palou FP1 session RACER: Indy 500 Carb Day Report with Alex Palou Alex Palou presented with Astor Cup in Long Beach for IndyCar championship | Motorsports on NBC Alex Palou INTERVIEW! The IndyCar Podcast Alex Palou Recounts His Path To Indycar // Behind The Visor Tom Griswold Interviews Alex Palou (2022 Indy 500)

Acura Grand Prix of Long Beach | Track Preview | Acura NSX Java with James: Alex Palou season 1 Tiny Cars with James – Alex Palou Tiny Cars with James, season 2 – Alex Palou Java with James, season 2: Alex Palou

Alex Palou is something of a mystery. Outwardly quiet and reserved, he puts on a happy face in the most trying of situations. But beneath that is a core of steel – stubborn determination. He could not have won the championship in just his second season without it nor endured his 2022 contract controversy with the grace that he did. He is endlessly patient but there have been flashes of temper, fast burning but intense while they last. Pragmatic, he only believes in setting tangible goals – ones for which he can see a path to achieve. He has larger dreams but they are not his focus until that path appears.

Contract controversy It was a quiet Tuesday evening in July, 2022. Earlier in the day, Chip Ganassi Racing had announced that the team had exercised its option to extend Alex Palou’s contract through 2023. This was no unexpected and went unquestioned. Until Alex Palou put out a series of tweets. https://twitter.com/AlexPalou/status/1546996392912109568

In them, he stated that CGR’s press releasee had been issued without his approval and that he did not intend to continue with the team. Minutes later (and this tweet has since been deleted), Mclaren tweeted, welcoming Palou to the team. CGR then released a statement insisting that Palou was still under contract with them. To say that this caused mass confusion would be an understatement.

Two weeks later, another shockwave rocked the Indycar community when CGR confirmed that they had filed a civil lawsuit against Palou. Later, Chip Ganassi would insist that they did not ‘sue’ their active driver as many headlines and general conversation called it, but rather followed through on the mediation clause within the contract. But in the months that followed, speculation was rampant. Would Palou stay with CGR? Would he go to McLaren? Would it be McLaren F1 or McLaren Indycar? Palou continued to race for CGR, a firm ‘no comment’ on his lips for much of the time.

It wasn’t until a few days after the season ended in September that a resolution was announced. Palou would remain with CGR for the 2023 season but would be allowed to test with McLaren F1 and serve as a reserve driver.

August 2023 - The saga takes a new turn with reports that McLaren is suing Palou for breach of contract after he announces that he will be staying with CGR afterall.

McLaren initiates legal action against Palou

Palou: Lack of F1 guarantee at my age played part in McLaren IndyCar U-turn

As of May 2024, Palou remains with CGR after winning his second championship in 2023. He has admitted to the breach of contract with McLaren and now it is all in the hands of the court to determine the damages he will have to play, rumored to be as high as $30 million.

Fanfic Lore

Paired with Pato O’Ward. Ship name: O’Palou Paired with Colton Herta Paired with Marcus Ericsson

Paired with Marcus Armstrong

Nicknamed Lexi in fics where Alex Rossi also appears to avoid confusion.

[wolviesgal]

I have gone through so many episodes of burn out over the last seven years, I might as well just call it a constant state of it. It's not healthy and it definitely shouldn't be celebrated.

I partially did it to myself, but I also was put in a situation where my options were limited. My previous boss (she retired) didn't care if she ground me into dust. I was doing two jobs and, when I voiced my concerns, told me that everyone was busy and I wasn't special. Everyone was doing extra work. Well, yeah. You took three manager positions and then reduced it to two. And I took the lion's share of that responsibility. Like I actively managed over half the people in this building, covering four different areas, plus had my own full time responsibilities. In one year, I banked 28 days work of extra time. To put that in hours, I put in an extra 285 hours in a year. That was the year that I was the only person in the IT department for 27% of my year and I was covering for everyone else, plus my own job, and hiring.

When that boss retired and the new one came in, she immediately knew that my job wasn't sustainable. She made some pretty quick changes, but it still took a few years to really less me go back to one department and one job. Even then, I still did tons of extra work. But I did manage to use a lot of my banked time. For example, I took almost four weeks of vacation this summer on banked time alone. And I still have 100+ hours right now. Which is a problem, because when I leave my job at the end of the month, they have to pay me out. Honestly, up until November, I thought I would just lose those hours because that's what's written into policy and that's the agreement I signed.

My new boss at the job I'm going to? Well, we've already had the conversation that the hours are 8:30 to 4:30 and with very few exceptions, I'm not working anything beyond that. There will be the occasional board meeting or library visit that will make for a longer day, but it will be rare. And it has to be approved ahead of time. And if I bank time? Use it within a few weeks. She has stressed this. They're big on work-life balance.

The problem? I have burned myself out for so long, I don't know how to relax anymore. If I do nothing but read for a day, I feel guilty for not being productive. I either have to be busy or I panic. I have no healthy hobbies (doomscrolling doesn't count). Admittedly some of that comes from the ADHD and the inability to not hyperfocus, but still.

The thing with burnout is that it's not just sleep deprivation and isolation, but if it goes on long enough it fundamentally changes how you think. I don't know how to be a normal person outside of work nor do I know how to define myself outside of it.

Fellow managers here have started using me as an example of how not to be at work. And I can't blame them at all. I'm pretty sure my life motto is if you can't be a good example, at least be a horrible warning.

I feel like I've rambled a lot and said not much, but if you've read this far, please take this piece of advice with you: your health, mental and physical, is not worth sacrificing for any job. Because they won't make the same level of sacrifice for you as an employee.

I hate glamorizing over-working. It’s not healthy. The fact that there are so many people going without sleep, food, personal hygiene (not to mention time for relaxation, personal time, and socialization, which are very necessary for mental health) just to stay afloat is not something to be celebrated or applauded. It’s a problem, not a goal that all good employees should aspire to, or a norm everyone should be expected to perform.

[silentmeteorite93]

The Leaping Gazelles 13/34

Bound

In fact, the two men on campus were known far and wide as the seeds of infatuation before they were even bloodily intertwined by fate. Even the large trees they each separately howled at dry were so similar. Perhaps it was the rusty tails that needed to be compensated for, or perhaps it was the fact that both of them had too much emotion built up within them, and it was only in the moment when they were unintentionally nudged by those around them almost simultaneously that the two close-knit teenage boys and girls also realized that the existence of both of those trees was merely a symbol. What they needed was not a response, but just the pain of getting used to the dryness of their throats. And so it came to pass that at a New Year's Day party, in a session that was supposed to make a fool out of the boy, the boy once again conquered the girl's already-known maiden class. Perhaps a song was the price to pay for a marriage proposal, or that brave and innocent kiss at the back door that neither the boy nor the girl expected, and the two spent the next eight years of their lives together chained to the same chain, jumping into a volcano.

After the man changed countries for the second time still did not get rid of their own cowardice and the woman's courage, the two still rely on childishness and faith indulge in burning each other. Desire is mostly possession, feelings are mostly companionship, familiarity with each other is the inertia to maintain the two people in the predicament of support. It is also good that the two people's energy but both have their own multiple hobbies, and never believe in their own charm can still find each other so familiar with each other, at least in the man's mind is so. The thought of handing over his poisonous and hot baton to the hands of the next unfortunate human child did not even cross his mind.

It wasn't until the woman came to him in a foreign country that the man's friends realized that the man they saw as so loving and honest was such a tangled and conflicted freak. It took them less than a few minutes to turn their original gesture of wanting to see sour love into a state of shock and feeling embarrassed. The couple in front of them actually looked like strangers or even enemies who hated each other coldly and fiercely after going through so many storms. This kind of ruthlessness was to the point of shock, the nagging and pain was again boiling beyond concealment. The normally stoic and humorous man could actually gulp out pain with every breath, and the only variable in his life was the equally polite and likeable woman in front of him. The frank behavior of the man who had long ago confessed to the outside world that he had a girlfriend paired with the current look like he was treating his left hand or a mole of some kind made those around him despair. The image they had once imagined in their minds appeared before their eyes, but the way the two of them got along was incomprehensible. All the pranks designed in advance could not be carried out, so they just watched these two familiar and unfamiliar couples fight against the world and corrupt time in the way they were used to.

Due to their age and experience, the two immediately took on the responsibilities of relative maturity. Together they organized different activities, and in just a few days someone had already started to refrain from thinking about the sadness of her departure. This naturally didn't include the man, and everyone, including the two of them, didn't think he'd fluctuate much. Perhaps that was the destiny of romance, to burn out in flames or slowly merge into one, indistinguishable from the other. The woman had carelessly lost her passport like the man had always determined. This forced her to stay an extra two weeks longer than planned, from the nervous cheering in anticipation of the candle that lit her life coming to her side, to the man's feeling that the woman's presence had even tainted the somber skies and rich soil. Just a few hours of meeting was enough to give the man a splitting headache, and the remaining weeks were just more evidence to show. The woman came with the maple sugar biscuit that the man had temporarily and casually suggested he loved for a few seconds but said he had depended on for years, the sweet and crunchy sin was so unexpectedly delicious that out of spite for that wasteland that love probably persisted into the night of the day of the meeting.

Distance from that familiar jet lag disappeared once more, and the disconnect and bond between the two men reappeared, not that intimacy was absent, but that the man of Sage Time couldn't play kind. Thankfully, playing mature had been a routine in both of their lives, so that they weren't childish to the point of wretchedness as they had been several years ago. The man's friends were the first to express their displeasure at his aloof attitude, though they could guess at the passions that followed after nightfall. But not to mention them, who were still young, even the man's own self at the time did not know why he had suppressed the fire-like feelings to such extremes, but had let both of them fall deeper into them. He tries to follow the advice, but gets feedback that makes him extremely uncomfortable in his own skin. The woman's comments, on the other hand, are like that of a mousy and awkward father giving his daughter, whom he hasn't seen in a long time, a birthday alone. Kind and obtuse in an ugly way, celebrating this endeavor and praying for it to end soon.