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elysianslove · 4 years ago

Note

Biggest congrats on 500!! i can already tell you're gonna gain a whole lot more soon 🥺 if you're still doin requests, may I ask for nsfw #35 with itadori?Have a gr8 day bby !

thank you so much for your words ily <3 i hope you have a wonderful day, and that you enjoy this, mwah <333

nsfw under the cut, my loves! yuuji’s aged up!

500 Follower Event; 35. dry humping ━ itadori yuuji

as much as he wouldn’t want to admit it out loud, it’s blatantly obvious yuuji’s much less experienced than you, at least sexually. it’s not that he’s never had the chance to go further with anyone he’s been with, but it had never felt right. and he’s so thankful for you, because you’re so, so patient with him, and so understanding. you never rush him, never expect anything more for him, always reassuring him he’s more than enough for you.

he can tell, with every heated make out session, that you’re sexually frustrated. it’s crystal clear to him, with the way you rock your hips in earnest, seeking any sort of friction with and from him. and he wishes he could give it to you, but he can’t. not yet.

he’s hovering above you now, your hands in his hair, tugging lightly as his lips meet yours in a bruising kiss. honest to god, yuuji could simply get off to the feel of you kissing him. it’s intoxicating, the way you taste and feel, burning desire always so evident. one hand grips your waist tightly, gripping at the shirt you have on, while the other rests by your head, holding himself up, he feels your hips rise with eagerness, involuntarily trying to meet his, and he groans helplessly, parting your lips.

your eyes are glossy, a little cloudy, as you stare up at him in wonder. his exhale is shaky as he shifts his body, moving from above you to sit by you. he can tell he’s aroused too, the feeling isn’t foreign to him, but the proximity of you while he’s like this is. with another unsteady sigh, he says, “i’m sorry.”

you’re quick to sit up, turning his face to look at yours while cupping his cheek. “no, no, there’s nothing to apologize for,” you promise with a gentle smile. you reach over and peck the corner of his mouth as affirmation, settling back against the pillows and reaching for your phone.

he calls for your name, and you disregard the phone, paying him full attention. “i want to make you feel good,” he starts. “i just — i just don’t know if i’m comfortable with going all the way yet.” his wavering voice sounds unfamiliar to him, but he meets your eyes with a strong gaze to make up for it.

your smile is still soft when he looks at you. “that’s okay, yu,” you say. “i’m okay with it like this, i promise.”

still, he doesn’t let up. “can we — um —” he stutters, before clearing his throat, and reaching for your wrist. upon feeling your pulse, steadying him, he finds the courage to say, “come sit on my lap.” he sees you shiver in response, but otherwise, you don’t falter, and you scramble to climb onto his lap. you find yourself often there, and it’s always comfortable being in yuuji’s grasp. but with the way he’s looking at you now, it feels immensely different.

“yuuji?” you ask cautiously at the feel of his hands hovering unsurely near your hips. he blinks, once, twice, before situating his hands on them. then, experimentally, he pushes you down tightly, guiding you once along his crotch. you gasp in surprise, your hands flying to clutch at his shoulders. “again,” you mumble, and, eyes still trained on where your body meets his, he lifts his hips up, pushing you along with him. it elicits another gasp from you, even if there’s minimal movement and friction, and he’s assuming it’s the excitement of it all.

one of your hands travel to your hips, resting above his hand. slowly, you grind down your hips, your shorts riding up along your thighs slightly. “this okay?” you breathlessly ask. his eyes find yours, and at the sight of him, you nearly succumb to all your desires. his pupils are fully blown, mouth parted in an endless gasp and cheeks ever so slightly tinted pink. he nods, confirming his consent, but you nudge at his chin, leaning closer as you whisper, “i need you to say it, baby.”

“please,” he rasps out. “please — want you.”

you pull him in for a searing kiss, letting your hips move in tandem with him. you moan at the friction against your clit, at the feel of him hardening and straining against his pants. he gasps and moans into your mouth as you press down harder against him, and god, this is numbing every nerve and simultaneously alighting them all on fire. his mouth opens for you, letting your tongue past, allowing you to suck on the muscle between his lips. he whimpers and whines at the overstimulation, and you want to save this all to memory because this is masturbation material for months. he feels so good against you, and you know you’re drenching yourself, past the boundaries of your panties and through your shorts.

with another harsh rut of your hips, you remove your lips from his, a single line of spit connecting you two. “i can — oh — i can feel you,” he confirms for you, his eyes darting momentarily to where you’re harshly grinding against him.

with a grin, you lick your lips, diving in to kiss at his neck. he throws his head back, eyes rolling to the back of his head and hands gripping the flesh of your ass as you suck on his throat. you can tell his heart’s racing unbearably at the quickening pulse you feel beneath your lips, and you suck at the skin harder, moaning loudly against his neck while you work at driving him closer to his orgasm. you know he won’t last long by the way he’s impossibly hardening underneath you, and you think good, good, go over, baby, good.

he gasps out loudly, his nails digging into your skin, and your lips travel higher, closer to his ear, nipping at his earlobe. you can feel your own orgasm approaching, and accidentally, you let out a strangled whine, directly by his ear, and he groans in surprise, his hips rutting up against you suddenly. “come on yuuji, cum for me,” you whisper, and he outright sobs, tightening the knot in your stomach. “m’gonna cum, baby, all for you. only for you,” you squeal out, your arms coming to wrap around his neck.

his arms travel to snake around your waist, holding you directly to his chest, burying his face in your neck as he lifts up his legs, bending them at the knees. one, two, three thrusts up, and he has you screaming, his arms tightening around you and his fingers gripping at the shirt you wear so tight there’s no way he hasn’t torn it. your orgasm shakes through you, leaving you a whining, screaming mess on his lap as your cunt clenches around nothing, gushing out through your shorts and on his trousers. similarly, yuuji’s arms shake with both the impossible strength he holds you with and the strong orgasm. his crotch continues to grind against yours as he rides his orgasm, the front of his trousers, stained with his messy cum.

“fuck, fuck,” he’s gasping, his hips settling back down on your bed, legs stretching out again, as he calms down. weakly, you shudder, lifting up your head and facing him. anxiously, he asks, “was that okay?”

you smile dreamily at him, still in your post orgasm haze, and cup his cheeks with both hands, leaning in to kiss him. “it was perfect.”

500 Followers Event is now closed!

end note; why was this so long omg. anyways, this might be my favorite smut piece i’ve ever written and idk why. i love writing about 2d characters in sexual situations than working on the university essay i have due literally tonight <3

#500 follower event #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #yuji itadori x reader #itadori x reader #itadori yuuji x reader #itadori smut #itadori yuuji smut

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marshmallowprotection · 3 years ago

Text

[Previous Post]

By his calculation, it was no real surprise that she couldn't remember anything that she'd said to him.

She had been floating on the edge of elixir and the aftershocks it left in her system, most of what left her lips was nonsensical, at worst. She had far more clarity with her ability to speak but she had been easily distracted and confused if he let her talk without some kind of motivation.

Ray hadn't even had to pry. It was as if she were a Goddess who truly knew everything. She knew things that Ray had to double check for their authenticity but found she was right every step of the way there. There were things that he would have otherwise had no way to know, but she was right enough for him to put every word to thought.

She had firm thoughts and opinions, and it was precious to see her get upset over nothing. She would get so inflamed over this or that, but she spoke of the stories of himself and those around him like it was her livelihood. As if the world around them was her everything.

However, some of her tone needed to be corrected. She spoke highly of much of the RFA, even if she was able to easily proclaim what she saw as a perceived fear or hesitance. He didn't care if she pitied the most of them… he just didn't want her to feel anything for the liar and the traitor. It's why he didn't ask about them.

But, the rest of the members?

He had enough information to draw out anything he wanted from them. She even had her own suggestions for what could work on them. He noted it in her phone, where she had been trying to figure out what may bring the RFA to Mint Eye. It was amusing to think she had considered it before meeting him. It was just another reminder that she was meant to be a saint to Mint Eye.

Setting aside his feelings in knowing that her information had been given to her because of a game, he knew it didn’t matter how she got it. She wielded it with grace and luxury in her hands. She built upon the backs of what she had been handed and made it stronger... she found holes in stories and mended them by her hands.

"Princess, relax for me," he was as gentle as he could be but she simply hadn't had the time to learn how to sit still. She was coming more and more out of her gaze so she was having such a hard time with her tremors. "I know it's hard. But I need you to look your best today."

Either way, Ray had what he needed and plans could begin. But, right now, he had something even more important to think of. His Savior wanted to meet the person who would save Paradise with ease, his precious one. He tutted when he felt her squirm underneath his hand, smoothing out the brush against her messy curls as he did.

Kaitlyn blinked a few times and then looked at the reflection in the mirror. She would see Ray fretting over little things as he did but she hadn’t quite realized how much work he was doing. He had taken great care to make her look exactly as radiant as she was. If they didn't see it before, they would see it in front of the Savior.

He caught her hand before it could touch her hand, and he lowered it back down onto her lap with a tight smile. He spent an awfully long time making her messy curls tighter and consistent. He didn’t want her to mess any of it up because she wasn’t in the state of mind to look at herself just yet.

She was easily placated, though.

All it’d taken to make her listen to him in the first place was to wrap his coat around her shoulders. She stopped shivering and shaking when he did. It was almost adorable. Compared to the acidic mint and undertones of alcohol within the potion, he imagined the floral scent calmed her down. Aromatherapy was a good idea! If he could’ve taken her back to the garden...

As the clarity was slowly returning, she seemed like in a daze and more of a frenzy. Her eyes darted all over the place as she strained to figure out where she was and why she was there. He knew that feeling, it happened often as he came out of the buzz that elixir warranted to those that survived the first trial.

"Why…?"

"You're meeting with my Savior, remember?"

He frowned. What did she have to be afraid of? Did she misunderstand how lucky she was? Or, was the elixir still making her fearful to be alone with other people except for him? She would cry out with names that he couldn’t recall or know, after all. She might’ve been scared to make a fool of herself in front of his Savior.

Something akin to fear flashed in her eyes, “I thought... I thought you said she was okay with us being together, Ray.”

“Of course! My Savior promised that we’ll be together, but she wants to meet you so our mission can begin. After all, she wants to formally greet you as a true member of paradise! You took the elixir so well, too. It’s amazing. So, she wants you to see our paradise now that you’re able to function properly.”

She’d seen worse.

—

“I’m...”

“A member of paradise,” Rika spoke with resolution. Her emerald eyes flickered over the newcomer, as if sizing her up and trying to figure out the best way to be able to pick her mind apart. “It’s a pleasure to welcome you to Magenta, for the first time, officially. While you must be surprised to be here with you, I must thank you for offering your wisdom and insight to ensure our success.”

To put it plainly, Rika was searching for something in between the lines. Ray had said over and over that her information knew no bounds but there were parts of it that he couldn’t gain access to quite yet. She knew everything about them and yet, she was devoted to the cause. She had no doubt in her mind after what he’d shown her on that phone.

She always imagined that she would have to tether Ray with a string to keep him to obey but now she had two tools to use at her disposal. She not only had Ray who worked himself like a dog for the smallest grain of affection, and now, this girl who would do anything for Ray and the paradise that he wanted to hold so badly.

Photos that couldn’t exist in this world as they existed in quality unlike their own. Information about everything and everyone that nobody was ever meant to get into their hands. Reports and essays that could rival anyone in their terms of control and clarity. Her devotion to Ray was something else, and it could readily be used and manipulated.

An idealistic young woman who believed in empathy and shining love. She was a realist but her romantic heart could sway her to be bent easily. It reminded her much of herself before she realized her true potential. A shining light was easy to capture as long as you had the right tools.

Then, she would finally feel the light of salvation.

This could be a useful love.

Love built upon obsession that came from sincere bonds. Unlike the way that her former flame had done. His love had burned and devoured every part of her heart and now... she could take back her precious family from his clutches and wave this love in his face. She could use it, she could use them, and she was going to do so.

Though, Ray seemed to have dosed her with more than she expected. Her eyes still looked glossy even though she had enough clarity to realize the situation at hand. Her hand nervously fiddled with the fabric of the borrowed coat she wore, as her eyes darted left to right, not wanting to meet Rika’s gaze.

No matter, it was a delight either way to see things working.

Though this girl was taller than she was, she paid no mind, resting her hand against her shoulder to catch her attention. “You don’t need to worry about a thing. You’ve proven your capability already with your charming perspective, I must say, you’re a delightful read when you tear people down. You’ve seen the things I’ve always overlooked.”

“Ah, I...” Kaitlyn murmured. It was a small nod to indicate that she’d heard what Rika said. “I... I like to study people, it’s a hobby... I’m not that great for what it's worth.”

Oh.

An insecurity.

“Ray has shown me otherwise. Your words will be the very thing that save my precious mistreated family. I’m interested to hear more about what you think we should do. After all, someone as devoted as you can only know talent. Trust me, I know skill when I see it. I welcome it to our paradise because we need people like you.”

“...Thank you, Savior,” the words seemed foreign against her lips but she had managed to catch herself in time. She seemed to be good in print but in need with her actual words. “I... I’m thankful you see it that way. I’m... I’m happy you have welcomed me.”

Rika’s attention shifted back to Ray. He seemed to be eyeing his plaything with a serious fever in his eyes. It could’ve been a problem, but... as long as she knew that this infatuation was going to secure paradise, she would allow it. It wasn’t as if they would be able to turn away from their promised future. It was a given, and Ray would never let go of it, now.

She smiled.

What a frightened little rabbit.

“Ray, be a dear and see to it that she’s comfortable. We’ve got a lot of work ahead of us if we want to achieve our goals within the next few months... aren’t you pleased it won’t take years to succeed now? All you’ve ever wanted, you’ve got it in your grasps. Don’t lose sight of that,” her voice was clear. “To get what you want, you must never look away from what’s ahead. No matter how ugly it seems. After all, I have a strong feeling that our dear Kaitlyn will have them on their knees soon enough.”

His expression changed with that. His lips curled upward and he nodded, his way of saying he understood. The bloodlust in his eyes... now, that was what she wanted to hold onto. As long as he behaved, as long as he kept his dream ahead, paradise would thrive, and she would have what she wanted. Jihyun on his hands and knees, begging for mercy.

And she’d snap him like a twig for thinking she’d given him a chance after what he did.

Rika stepped back and Ray stepped forward. He took her by the hand and let her gaze into his eyes, that cloudy look leaving him as he played the role that he wanted. Pity, he wanted to be a prince when he was better suited for something else. Well, in due time, she thought.

“I’ll begin preparations, my Savior. For eternal paradise.”

“For eternal paradise, my children.”

#self insert #danger ray #drabble #mod kait

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pridewhatpride · 3 years ago

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ok so I read your view on GX rivalshipping and how things would get messy when johan shows up because I was curious about another GX rivalshippers opinion, and holy you and I have the EXACT same thoughts.

Ive went on and on about how manjoume as a rival (and as someone who could have had the ability to support judai) was tossed aside as soon as johan shows up + turned into the comedic relief chara and nobody ever really knows what the hell im talking about LOL. a big thing for me is just how DIFFERENT that would be for manjoume as well? in the seasons before johan shows up judai is so clingy towards him, always busting into his room and being in his personal space...

then mr. buff arms big smile shows up with his frilly lilac blouse and homo dragon and suddenly judai is like. smitten. which like youve pointed- out who could blame judai? johan is hard to hate and hes kind of perfect in every way. I always imagine what that would do to manjoumes self esteem in particular, because as we all know it IS a bit fragile at times, especially when it comes to being the best he can be.

I think having johan around would make him feel absolutely insignificant not only as someone who LIKES judai, but even just as judais friend. is he really so horrible at being a support that judai needs a stranger to lean on? even though he never asked for judais help much, is he really such a burden when he needs to be saved? why is judai acting like hes never been able to connect with manjoume, who can also see duel spirits, before? whoever said opposites attract obviously havent seen judai and johan! thoughts like that.

I could go on and on but I dont want you to have to read my 2746373 word long ask about them. id love to hear any thought or analysis you have on GX rivalshipping because its my favourite and the shippers are so rare, so I encourage you to post them whenever you feel like it!

Dear anon.

You can't ever know just how happy receiving this in my inbox made me. I can't fully express how grateful I am at the simple fact that you read my long rambles and reached out to me. I respect your anonimity if you want to keep it, but honestly, DM me whenever, if you want to. I think I'd like to talk to you if you're comfortable with it? I really do want to read your "2746373 word" essay on them. For the rest of my life.

I might get a little personal in terms of my view on this, so just... be aware.

The thing is that the way Manjoume is cast aside is just... a big fear of mine. "Sure, we might be friends now, but I'm not all that good and you know it. You won't mean any harm by it, but you'll find someone you like better and I'll be alone again." That kind of line of thought is probably something that goes through Manjoume's mind? He doesn't really... have friends outside of Judai. Maybe Fubuki. And Daichi? Except he disappears into nothingness very quickly. But that's it. And he certainly had none before that: just lackeys who pretended to like him because he was rich and perceived as promising. He lost that and suddenly found himself isolated.

It's nice to think that he bonded with the other members of the gang, but... he didn't. Shou certainly never really stops disliking/making fun of him. You could say it's meant as like... friendly teasing. But it doesn't read that way because there is nothing to indicate actual affection. Kenzan, Aster and the transfer students just... barely interact with him? Like have they actually ever spoken to eachother? I doubt it. Ryo is just the admirable upperclassman. Again, barely any interaction. Asuka is... a mess I don't want to get into, but again, she would probably file a restraining order if she could.

So yeah. Manjoume has one friend and the taller and cooler guy just kind of takes that away. Of course Johan is not aware of this! He wouldn't have been able to do much to change it, either way. It was Judai's own choice and that's what hurts the most, to me.

If shifting the focus and making minor changes to canon is something you like to do, here's a thing I think about a lot. "Teardrop", the Season 3 opening, except it's what Manjoume feels when seeing Judai's suffering and desperation. You know.

As you hang your head and smile, a single tear lands on your cheeks

You pretend to be strong, but underneath You’re hiding sighs; your smile is cloudy It sticks into me Like shattered glass

It’s OK to talk about the pain in your heart

Your smile Has always saved me You can cry now I’ll stay here with you

I can't bring myself to blame Judai or Johan for it, but I think Manjoume- if he'd been written like an actual character past a certain point- would have been quite devastated by this.

As you said, it's not just being abandoned, it's also being indirectly told that he was never truly someone worthwhile, that he is little more than extra weight. What of his supposed status of equal rival and all that? Nothing. Judai is just... on a different level than him. So Manjoume is simply left to stagger behind in a desperate attempt to chase after greatness. He wasn't good enough for his brothers and Judai stood up for him. But in the end he wasn't good enough for Judai either.

I like to think that Manjoume made an effort to get along with the others. He just didn't quite know how and couldn't just... switch off his more prideful persona. And he ended up paying quite the steep price.

I know I'm extra melodramatic when it comes to my favourites, but it's something that bugs me. I understand why the manga decided to approach Manjoume's character in a completely different way and it's the reason why I like to read Manjoume's personality as a mix of manga and anime canon. I really have to mention this- how can one even pretend that the writers gave a shit about Manjoume when they joked about how stinky he was in a scene that could have been... emotional in some way. Judai frees Manjoume from the influence of the Society of Light by reminding him who he really is (I don't want to talk about Kenzan being too strong to be manipulated because that is fucking stupid and besically the equivalent of saying "ahah, the light got you because you're not strong willed enough @ Asuka @ Manjoume. Get rekt"). And like... great! They are actually showing off how much they care for eachother as friends despite the rivalry! But no. Judai ends up basically saying: "You smell and your coat has stains on it!" and Manjoume's just: "Oh yeah, I'm goth I hate wearing white, nvm."

... I swear someone on the writing team looked at Manjoume and went: "Let's bully him!" Ugh ;; Can you tell I'm hyper biased towards Manjoume yet?

This was hilarious to read, by the way: "mr. buff arms big smile shows up with his frilly lilac blouse and homo dragon"

But yes, this mess is now officially over. I will be spouting gx rivalshipping nonsense left and right because we were robbed of their dynamic and I'll never get over that. Also I really want to draw them, so that helps.

Ending this post by saying that this ask made me feel like I didn't waste time writing all that, that someone can get something out of it. I'm really glad.

#ygo #yugioh #ygo gx #yugioh gx #manjoume jun #jun manjoume #chazz princeton #judai yuki #yuki judai #jaden yuki #gx rivalshipping #marry me platonically anon #i will kill for your happiness

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moominsfcknproductive · 3 years ago

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An essay on disability; my experience with mental health and ableism.

You wake up in the morning and your body hurts from the moment your consciousness lights up. The covers are warm, a flimsy shield from the cold, hard world. I don’t want to get up. Getting up is the hardest thing you’ve ever done in your entire life. I get up.

I sit in the busy classroom; people push and rush around me. It is a productive morning for everyone there except me. Well, I like to think I am the most productive one there. Getting up out of bed and taking my medication is already a successful enough day for me. If I were to listen to my instincts, my screaming muscles, I would’ve stayed home. I would’ve never left my warm bed. The world isn’t a place for disabilities though, so I’m here. I grip my cane—the cane I finally grew enough courage and self-respect to buy and use—and try to focus my cloudy mind, yet all I see is blurry forms and rushing sounds. It’s too much.

I don’t know how to think. I don’t know how to think less either. It’s overwhelming, trying to focus all the rushing and thinking into a simple thing, to focus. My back aches as the cars race by outside and people scream on the street. The birds are singing, and construction equipment rumbles. Somebody is tapping their pencil on the scratched up grey tables and another whispers to their friend behind me. The professor speaks out loudly, vomiting gallons and eons of information for us to remember. I won’t remember because of the sounds pounding in my head, but I try. My back hurts and I want to cry.

Not being able to care for yourself as you should is a funny thing. Thoughts of washing your hair and putting on fresh underwear bounce around in your head, but when you try, it is as if you are chained down to the bed you lay in; a healthy copy of yourself with twisted eyes sighs down at your useless form in disappointment. What kind of adult are you if you can’t do basic tasks, they say. You want to yell, to scream that you are trying, but all there is is exclamations of embarrassment and disappointment from the blurring forms around you. I want to get up, but my back aches and head pounds from invisible jack hammers. I try to cry, but my tears are dry from the dehydration I cannot fix.

I’ve gotten so far, gotten so much help and support from amazing people, over time. I should be proud, happy with how I am doing, but all I can think of is those who’ve looked down at me as if I were an insect to be ground down into dust. You don’t deserve these supports, they sigh. You already have so much, you need to stop taking advantage of our kindness. Our charity. These are your own consequences and you need to own up to that. I don’t know how to respond to that. Maybe I am taking advantage. Do I really need this much help in order to function as a human being. I don’t know. I’m so tired. I don’t want to wake up. The sheets are so warm and so comfortable.

This was written for a video essay that I will have posted on Youtube soon!

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fardf150 · 4 years ago

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How to avoid some common grammar and punctuation errors.

!Disclaimer!

This is not meant to be condescending or talk down to anyone, I’m only making this to help people who have trouble with certain kinds of grammar and punctuation. If it comes across that way at all, please tell me how my phrasing could come across different; it can be hard to tell what someone’s intended tone is simply by reading something unless it is described, and I tend to be fairly blunt. With that out of the way, let’s get into it!

So I’ve noticed a lot of people often have trouble with certain parts of grammar/punctuation, so I wanted to make a post explaining how some of the most common mix-ups can be avoided in a digestible way (i.e. not a 5 paragraph essay without line breaks). I’ve been wanting to make this for a while, but I’ve been holding off on it; but um, here it is! I hope this is able to help someone.

Their, there, and they’re

The uses of their and they’re are probably the most commonly known nowadays, due to many people using they/them pronouns and those being the standard gender neutral pronouns to use when one doesn’t know someone else’s pronouns. They are also used when talking about more than one person or thing. But I figured it couldn’t hurt to explain them, just in case.

Their and theirs are used to show ownership, they are possessive pronouns. Like his, hers, etc.

It can be used for someone who uses they/them pronouns, someone you don’t know the pronouns of yet, or to describe when more than one person owns something. But their and theirs aren’t interchangeable; you use different ones depending on how the rest of the sentence is written.

Ex (I’m sorry if these sound weird and artificial): “That is theirs.”

But if we want to use their, then we would phrase it something like this:

“That is their (noun).”

They’re is a contraction - a shortening of two words then replacing the missing letters with an apostrophe - of the words “they” and “are”, used to describe someone or multiple people/things when they are doing something or to describe something or multiple people/items’s state of being.

Ex: “They’re very smart.”

There on the other hand, is not a pronoun. It is used to describe where something/someone is. It is the opposite of “here”, as “here” would be used in similar context as there, but if someone/something is a place fairly nearby, such as next to or in front of you. There would be used to describe something/someone that is a fair distance away, such as on the other side of a room.

Ex: “They’re over there.” (typically in response to a question such as “Where is (name)?”)

But there can also be used to describe the way things are, when paired with words such as “are” or “is”. Many people usually shorten these to “there’s” and sometimes “there’re”, but that second one is usually only when highlighting the way a character speaks when written out instead of spoken out loud. I don’t really know how to describe it, so here are some examples:

“There are twelve apartments that are still open for rent.”

“There is an auction for that book you were looking for happening later today.”

Your and you’re

Your is the possessive form of you, a pronoun used to refer directly to another person.

Ex: “Your hair looks really nice today!”

You’re is a contraction of “you” and “are”. It is used in the same ways as “they’re”.

Ex: “You’re very smart.”

“You’re still exercising? It has been an hour.”

It’s and its

It is a pronoun used to describe non-sentient nouns or someone who has chosen to use it as a pronoun for themselves.

It’s is a contraction of “it” and “is” or “it” and “has”, used to describe something/someone’s state of being or when something/someone is doing something.

Ex: “It’s pretty cloudy out there.”

“It’s been a pretty long time.”

Its is another possessive pronoun.

Ex: “Its name is (name).”

Too, two, and to

Two is fairly simple in its usage; it is used as the word form of the number “2”.

Ex: “There are two copies left.”

To is used to describe where something/someone is going or where something/someone has gone.

Ex: “She went to the grocery store.”

Too is used when someone/something shares similarities with someone/something.

Ex: “You like roller skating, too?”

It can also be used in another way that’s easier to show with just an example:

“I think you’ve had too many of those.”

Capital letters/Uppercase letters

You always use capital/uppercase letters at the beginning of a sentence, at the beginning of a proper noun, and the letter i is always capitalized when a character/person is talking about themselves.

Ex: “My brother Jake and I used to always pretend we were pirates.”

Other times i is capitalized/uppercase would be:

I’ve (contraction of “I” and “have”)

I’ll (contraction or “I” and “will”)

I’m (contraction of “I” and “am”

And there are likely more; if there are, they are either strictly conversational or have slipped my mind.

Commas

This is one last thing I wanted to go over. Commas are a kind of punctuation that are used in many different ways.

They can be used to make a sentence flow better and can help to avoid run-on sentences

Ex: “I was walking down the sidewalk, then I turned the corner.”

“I ran downstairs as fast as I could, but when I got down there, the lights were all already off.”

They can also be used when bringing more than one thing up at a time.

Ex: “I was in the chess, drama, and glee clubs during my sophomore year.”

When you use a comma before the “and”, it is called an “Oxford comma.”

Oxford commas aren’t always necessary, but in many cases they are. I would recommend just always using them, as there are many many cases like this, but if you don’t want to always use an Oxford comma, just look over your sentence and make sure it sounds alright without one.

If there are any mistakes you notice here or anything you would like me to add, please don’t hesitate to tell me; I don’t want to be spreading misinformation and I want this to be as helpful as possible.

Thank you for reading, have a nice day!

#grammar #grammar help #punctuation #writing #writing tips #writing advice #academic help #long post #lee’s twaddles

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makeste · 5 years ago

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BnHA Vigilantes Chapters 59 - 65: Emergency Catch-Up Blog

before I start, please be advised that the following post will contain a potential MAJOR SPOILER FOR CHAPTER 253, which has not yet been released! please don’t be an idiot like me and spoil yourselves, guys. stay safe.

but anyways yes, this is my recap post for Those Chapters of Vigilantes. at long last. hooray! by the way this is barely edited at all, on account of it being a rush job (see re: the “Emergency” bit in the header). just some raw, unfiltered, [CENSORED SPOILER THING] thoughts and feelings! hopefully it’s readable; when I have more time I’ll try and clean it up a bit more.

so now, first off, credit where credit is due because omg

bless you anon, you saved my life

but let me backtrack! looool so guys, I did a dumb thing and peeked at a spoiler, and read the name “Shirakumo”, and was like FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK and noped out, but it was too late lol. so then I was like “HOW DO I CATCH UP ON THE ENTIRETY OF VIGILANTES IN LESS THAN TWENTY-FOUR HOURS”, fully aware that I probably wasn’t going to do shit and would most likely just spend tomorrow apologizing and shrugging my way through the new chapter. and by the way guys, I’ll go ahead and throw in one of those apologies now, because I’ve had at least a dozen anons implore me to pick up Vigilantes, and I’m fully aware that Aizawa’s past has been covered (including one (1) cloudy boi), and that it’s really good. I just haven’t had the energy to do it! because reading and liveblogging are two very different things, and the latter just takes so much more time and energy honestly. so I kept putting it off and off and off, and now here I am

but then this ask came along telling me exactly which chapters to read in order to get the context I need! so seriously anon, you are the MVP of my week, and I appreciate this so, so much. I am now off to read those chapters, and I apologize to everyone again, but while I will liveblog them, it’ll probably be kind of a rush job due to the circumstances. like I won’t get into every single detail here, because it’s six whole chapters. but I’ll do my best

hmm I don’t know what constitutes the second half of chapter 59 lol so here I am reading the whole damn thing

AIZAWA BEING FRIENDS WITH MIDNIGHT, AND MIDNIGHT HAS A CAT OH GOSH

looool

personally, Aizawa hated school. he would never ever dream of becoming a teacher. how ridiculous. irrational af

“we’ll have you teaching at U.A. soon enough” psssh. not this man, sister

he’s hanging up on her now. honestly I am glad I did not skip the first part of this chapter lol

some wolfman is chasing the protag of this series whose name I forgot, as well as a little girl and ANOTHER CAT. this series has so many cats?! apparently!?

Aizawa is saving the cat. the hero we deserve

the protag whose name I am about to look up wants to adopt the cat, which prompts Aizawa to launch into a 2500-word essay on why he should not adopt the cat

okay the kid’s name is Koichi. he’s apparently 19 in the series, but I don’t know how old he is in this particular scene though because I have the vague impression that the series at large takes place in present-day BnHA time, which would mean this is definitely a flashback. so. ??

OHO, NOW IT’S A FLASHBACK WITHIN A FLASHBACK!!? so this is the Aizawa past thing everyone’s been all “!!!!” about. well here you go guys

young Shouta is staring at an abandoned kitty in a box in the rain

he left the cat, but also left his umbrella over it, awww

and he arrived at class all wet. and his teacher says he can go change his clothes, but he’s all “NAH I’M EMO SO I’LL JUST STAY LIKE THIS”, wow

“I’m powerless” jesus christ Shou get a grip

here comes Present Mic to forcibly lift his best bud’s spirits. they’re in second year apparently

Present Mic, and I mean this in the most loving and affectionate way possible, is the most annoying man on the planet

how was he not just constantly punched in the face at all times. like constantly walking around being punched by people

well well well

something horrible is sure going to happen to you, isn’t it? here I thought you were probably dead, but I’m kinda getting the inkling [SPOILERS, FOLKS, I’M SERIOUS] you’re gonna maybe show up in the latest chapter of the main series, so I guess not! congratulations I guess?? OR MAYBE NOT

“dammit Shirakumo” oh so it’s like that

their teacher deserves a raise. never thought we’d see another U.A. faculty member more done with life than Aizawa himself

hey Shirakumo is giving Shouta his umbrella back, but what about the cat?! SHIRAKUMO ARE YOU REALLY A NICE GUY, I’M NOT SURE YET

meanwhile he’s stripping naked in the middle of class. oh yes. I forgot Vigilantes was like this

he’s using his cloud quirk to censor himself where it counts

“and inside this cloud... is this charming little creature” lol we think he’s talking about his penis but then he pulls out the cat! WELL NEVER MIND THEN SHIRAKUMO

so Shouta is sitting around thinking emo thoughts that are gradually giving way to some decidedly un-hetero thoughts about Shirakumo, who’s doing that shounen thing where he smiles with his eyes closed while being silhouetted against the bright sun. maaaaan. Aizawa you are hella gay my dude

okay next chapter and they’re being assigned internships

Shirakumo’s hero costume is... well let’s just say it’s a good thing he’s got such a badass quirk

he’s riding around on that cloud like Goku. like a fucking Lakitu from Super Mario

now the teachers are talking about the three boys and whether they’ll be able to land internships

“Yamada shouldn’t have a problem. his voice quirk has applications in battle, rescue, and entertainment. but the boy’s a bit distractible.” okay first of all how the hell would Mic ever rescue a person with his quirk. fucking scream them to safety or what. and second, by distractible you mean punchable right. again, all the love

oh my god he’s so cute

lmao this is seriously my favorite picture of Aizawa ever. GO GETTEM SLUGGER

so Shouta is getting bullied by some guy with a decidedly Katsuki-ish quirk, except he shoots jets of fire out of his hands. but anyway he says that fighting Shouta is boring. SHUT UP, YOU. YOU’RE BORING

Shouta is so emo. but he really does want to be a good hero, he just doesn’t know how. he seems very frustrated

he’s lecturing Kumo on not giving people-food to the cat. and now he has picked up the cat and is cradling and bottle-feeding it like an infant. bless

this manga really has a gag panel of the cat pissing on Shirakumo afterwards, like. see this is another reason why I haven’t exactly been in a rush to read it sob. my sense of humor doesn’t really seem to align with Furuhashi’s

oH MY GOD

high school Midnight is the coolest person I have ever seen and I want to be just like her when I grow up

aaaaand she is literally not wearing any clothes except that belt and those boob-holsters. which, I mean, it’s not like she really dresses any differently in the main series, but this being Vigilantes, I’m sure we’ll get another half a dozen pages showing extreme close-ups of her costume from various angles. again, another area where this series and I don’t quite see eye to eye, but it’s all right since we’re just passing through here

and one year later they wrote a literal law limiting how much exposed skin a hero costume can show. oh Midnight. meanwhile I forgot how much this series makes me appreciate Horikoshi, flaws and all. I’ll take a thousand Minetas over this shit honestly. at least Mineta always gets his comeuppance. but anyway

they have named the cat “Sushi”

Midnight is straight up taking the cat lmao

Yamada got an internship. one down, two to go

Midnight’s back and showing them a video of the cat pooping. one joke about the cat’s bathroom habits in a single chapter was not enough, we’re going for two. not like we have anything more important to cover, like Aizawa getting an internship and something terrible and tragic happening to his boyfriend. let’s just keep talking about cat poop

okay here we go, Midnight says her boss will take them as interns

“Loud Cloud” lmao. home run hero name. GOAT

so Shouta’s chasing a villain and nearly got crushed by a safe that he threw at him, but he’s being saved by some guy who I’m guessing is his boss

oh my

this is the kind of weirdness that only a manga can get away with. I wonder how this idea came into being and whose idea it was, Horikoshi’s or Furuhashi’s. maybe the two of them hitting each other up back and forth in a text chain. “so I’m doing Aizawa’s flashback now, who do you want to have him to intern under?” “hmm I don’t know but I was thinking literally Prince”

Prince is chewing Shouta out something fierce

I thought I was prepared for these Aizawa flashbacks, but some things you can never be prepared for

lol he asked Shouta how he fucked up, and Shouta started listing all of his tactical errors, and Prince interrupted him and is all “I’M TALKIN’ ‘BOUT THAT GLOOMY FACE” listen son just who do you think your intern is. THAT’S JUST HIS FACE LEAVE HIM ALONE

he says Aizawa wears his stress all over his sleeve and bums people out

he’s telling him to smile! now where have we heard that philosophy before

hello

I’m just reblogging this panel because of reasons

so Shouta is sulking in the locker room, and Shirakumo is showering off and says his MO is to keep smiling even when he screws up

now Midnight is texting Shouta 500 cat pictures

lmao we can’t see Shouta’s face, but Kumo is streaking in and is all “THERE’S THAT SMILE, SUNSHINE!!!!”

OH SHIT NOW IT’S A FEW DAYS LATER AND THE VILLAIN IS BACK BUT THIS TIME SHOUTA DONE GOT HIM SOME GOGGLES!! the path from adorable to sexy begins. the Longbottoming

oh shit the goggles belong to Shirakumo. the gayening. and they were roommates

Shouta’s using his quirk!

and the bad guy is all “I don’t need my quirk to crush you” and straight up demolishing the fucking pavement yikes

and Kumo is leaping at him from above and whomping him on the head

yay they caught him. and Shouta is...

he’s trying. they’ll coax a real smile out of him yet! just show him a Youtube compilation of Logical Ruses

now he and Shirakumo have matching pairs of goggles. I’m just gonna assume this means they are married

the fire hands bully guy from earlier is coming over to start some shit again

he says he also realized the importance of eye protection through his internship. and Mic says he stole the idea from him

now the class is partnering off for two-on-two battle training, and Kumo is partnering with Shouta

they’re going up against Mic and Fire Hands, and for some reason they’re making a wager of it. whoever loses has to stop wearing glasses. this is easily the stupidest thing I have seen in this series yet, not to mention the most accurate

Kumo’s grinning at Shouta and saying the goggles symbolize their friendship and they have to defend them. you know, lovable scamp stuff

now Shirakumo and Shouta are double teaming the Fire Hands guy and taking him out in seconds because OF COURSE THEY DID. lol he never fucking stood a chance

but Shouta’s handing the glasses back and says that two-on-one isn’t fair so he’s calling the wager off

aaaand Fire Hands is snatching them back and stomping on them. and says he doesn’t need them

listen you dingus, yes you do fucking need them. and also he says he didn’t lose! wow this guy really has his head up his ass. I’d say he reminds me of a CERTAIN SOMEONE, but you know what, I’ll give Mr. Certain Someone his fair credit though, because he managed to get his shit together long before his second year. Fire Hands still needs to grow up

the teacher is telling him he missed the point of the exercise, and FH is literally ignoring him and running off wow

apparently Mic also gave up his sunglasses and got himself a pair of goggles. well we know that’s not gonna last. and for that matter, Shouta’s gonna change out his goggles for a different model as well. ohhhhh some tragedy is on the horizon I just know it, this is gonna hurt

Shirakumo says the three of them should start their own agency. ahhh. buddy I’m here reading this from the future, and I gotta tell you, son... shit’s awkward as fuck

and he’s pointing out all the different ways they complement each other’s strengths and weaknesses

Shouta says he can’t do anything on his own, but Kumo says that just means he’s suited to teamwork

Kumo’s inviting Midnight to join them, but she’s declining lol

Shouta’s looking at the sky all dramatically. oh baby this is it isn’t it. things are about to get rough

“one week later”

NOO THEY HURT MY PRECIOUS PRINCE

SOMEONE IS CALLING FOR BACKUP AND THE CAMERA IS ZOOMING IN ON A BUSTED UP PAIR OF GOGGLES, FUCK EVERYTHING

now we’re cutting to Mic and Fire Hands and FH replaced his sunglasses with a pair of goggles. goggles are just the in thing now

Fire Hands talks about Aizawa so much I’m starting to ship the two of them now as well. damn Shouta how many high school boyfriends did you have??

so they’re fighting off some toad monster and it’s absorbing all their attacks

meanwhile Shouta and Kumo are literally helping kindergartners to cross the street

look at this

it’s beyond my comprehension how anyone could possibly mistake this man for anything but a future teacher

even Kumo is commenting on how natural he is at working with kids

oH MY GOD the kids waved goodbye and said “bye Eraserhead” and it prompted a little smile

Kumo says Shouta psychs himself out and convinces himself he can’t do stuff, but really he can do just about anything if he puts his mind to it. aww. and he’s right!!

oh shit here comes the toad

so this toad’s name is Garvey, and he’s literally wanted for murder oh shit. and he has a Fatgum-like quirk that can absorb attacks and store them up to release them

and some idiots hit him with a combined attack that ended up powering him the fuck up. well shit

so Prince is placing a rose in between his teeth and getting ready to fight this toad off. do it I believe in you

now a lot is happening all at once, jesus. Shouta and Kumo were trying to evacuate the kids but then the toad just appeared right there like wtf, and then Prince also showed up out of nowhere and went to hit the thing with a flying jump kick

aaaand he’s getting blasted into a building

oof. and getting even further blasted now. welp

Kumo’s protecting the kiddos with his Nimbus quirk!

OH FUCKING SHIT AND THEN HE GOT CRACKED IN THE HEAD BY A GIANT FALLING ROCK

is this bitch fucking dead now. I can’t believe they fucking Obitoed my bro Shirakumo

so now the toad is looming over them, and Shouta realizes he’s the only one left standing, and all his doubts are filtering into his mind as he desperately tries to think of how to stop him

and Shirakumo’s... gourd... thing... is klunking in out of nowhere, and it has a little speaker on it, and it’s all “YOU GOT THIS AIZAWA” and wtf. this is like something out of a weird fever dream

OH SHIT BOYS AIZAWA SHOUTA DONE GOT HIS GAME FACE ON NOW

THE LONGBOTTOMING CONTINUES

so now he’s leaping fifty feet into the air, somehow, and thinking that his Erasure quirk will at least level the playing field. well all right then! you go boy

now it’s raining and of course bolts of lightning are dramatically hitting the ground all around them

Shouta’s kicking off the lil power toad lumps one by one lol

literally just jumping all around and kickin’ stuff

oof he took a bad hit. but he’s sitting back up!

Kumo’s disembodied gourd voice keeps shouting encouragement at him though, idk. so there’s that

he says Shouta’s strong and he won’t lose, and Shouta is all “RAHHHHHHH.” you guys, if 1-A ever found out about this flashback they would never let the man live it down. hell I’m not gonna let him live it down. okay then. Mr. RAHHHHHH

he’s doing some weird stuff with his capture weapon now. I think maybe he grabbed a rock with it and chucked it at the guy

and now the guy is shooting all his toad lumps at Shouta all at once! WELL ALL RIGHT THEN

yooooo Shouta literally grabbed them all with the capture weapon and he’s CHUCKIN’ EM ALL INTO THE DUDE’S MOUTH Y’ALL THIS IS SOME REAL FUCKING SHIT LMAO GET WRECKED

so the guy is blowing up from the inside out. yeah that’s what you get for murdering Shouta’s childhood friend you piece of shit

and Shouta’s collapsing in exhaustion but happily shouting “SHIRAKUMO I DID IT” before he passes out. oh my god don’t tell me Kumo is already dead and Shouta just hallucinated his voice or some shit. THEN WHO WAS GOURD omg

oooooof here we go

[places both hands on Shouta’s shoulders and looks him dead in the eye] son I don’t know how to tell you this, but Shirakumo has been dead for twenty years

wow can someone just fucking tell Shouta already so he stops depressing everyone and making an idiot out of himself. geez how long are you all gonna stand around despondently shooting knowing looks at each other in the rain

so they’re picking up the gourd speaker thing and OF COURSE it’s visibly broken and there’s no possible way Kumo’s voice could have been coming out of it. especially since he has been dead for twenty years. here’s a picture of his grave. oh shit what’s that little grave right next to his?? OH MY GOD IT’S THE CAT. OH MY GOD

oh fuck me

Y’ALL REALLY DID THESE BABIES LIKE THAT. HORIKOSHI!! FURUHASHI!! GET OVER HERE RIGHT NOW I WANT A WORD!!

so now Fire Hands, who is trying his best to be comforting but is just SO BAD AT IT, is all “Aizawa you went toe to toe with this thing and beat it YOURSELF!! ALL ALONE!!!” jesus christ I need a minute

OH DAMN A CALLBACK TO THE RAIN “THIS KINDA FITS OUR VIBE RIGHT NOW” LINE but now it’s saaaaaaaad oh no

I mean. I knew going in that this was going to be Aizawa’s sad childhood flashback about his friend Shirakumo whom something very terrible happened to. it’s not like I’m even surprised. I knew what I was getting myself into here. but damn that still hurts

do you guys think that having a permanent image of his best friend forever immortalized as a cheerful seventeen-year-old, and being forever haunted by the memory of that seventeen-year-old being cut down in the prime of his life, might have given Aizawa Shouta lasting trauma which carried over into his adulthood and makes him do desperately reckless things when children are at risk, such as leaping into battle against an army of villains all alone. dammit now I want to grab every single problem child of 1-A and shake them roughly and scream at them for all the sleepless nights they have doubtless caused this man

so now here he and Mic are both being sad

aww Mic. I’m sorry I keep wanting to punch you in the face. it’s just reflex

and now it’s one year later and the class is gearing up for the sports festival

well look who is almost fully done with his metamorphosis

you will soon be a beautiful butterfly

he is literally going to sleep in the middle of class. well depression makes people tired. sigh

he’s got his familiar goggles now! and he’s kicking FH’s ass and lecturing him on how to fight better. damn his character development is complete

and he’s helping FH to his feet aww. definitely boyfriends. this man gets around

his teachers now say that Shouta has gotten too complacent, if anything, and phones everything in once he knows he’s got a passing grade, and only gets passionate when it comes to practical exercises

and now we’re cutting to the gym and Shouta is indeed training passionately while Mic sits in the corner looking bummed. all these kids have been through far too much in their young lives

Shouta’s handing in his career aspiration form, and he wrote that he wants to start his own agency and focus on “fighting, and nothing else”

his scruffy facial hair is already starting to come in now. it’s true what they say, having a tragic past does indeed make you hotter

anyways but can we get this boy a hug!? anybody?? hello??!?

now they’re graduating and Shouta is disappearing in a poof of smoke and now there’s this big panel with flashbacks to his career up to the current point in Vigilantes!

and we’re back in the ~present~ and he’s telling Koichi to take good care of that cat. aaaand, I guess that’s that. geez. that was a lot

so there you go! the Aizawa flashbacks! they were very sad! all in all I really enjoyed them! so now, if Shirakumo isn’t actually dead (seeing as it’s a shounen manga that pays homage to comic books, so safe to say that People Not Actually Being Dead is a Certified Phenomenon, like it’s definitely a THING THAT CAN SOMETIMES HAPPEN), well then. tomorrow’s chapter is sure going to be interesting to say the least. lulz but maybe I’ve got it all wrong though. guess I’ll find out!

#bnha 253 #bnha vigilantes #aizawa shouta #yamada hizashi #shirakumo oboro #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha vigilantes spoilers #makeste reads bnha #makeste reads vigilantes #the real question is what the hell ever happened to this prince guy #I refuse to believe he just disappeared off the face of the earth #how is he not a top ten hero #probably because he got knocked out by the toad villain in like two seconds #and his sixteen-year-old intern had to save his fabulous behind #well hats off to a legend #wherever he is now

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ndragoon · 4 years ago

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Seems like it's one of those nights.

I don't know. It feels like I need to get so much out of my head, but every time I try to put any of it into words it just ends up as some rambling word salad. None of it makes sense, or else it is just something I've probably said here a hundred times already.

I hate myself. I hate everything about myself. I hate how I feel like I must have done something horribly, unspeakably awful to deserve a punishment like this.

My brain doesn't work. I can't think, I can't remember, sometimes I just can't think anymore and my brain needs to do a full reset before it can start doing anything again. Typing, speaking, walking, you name it. I'll just stop in the middle, stare off into space, and then need to take a moment to reorient myself and hope that I can find out what I was saying or doing so I don't look like a massive idiot.

My thoughts feel like a bunch of clashing gears all struggling to keep the mechanism going. Sometimes they manage to coordinate enough to get something done, but it feels more like sheer coincidence rather than actual intention. It feels like if I can't do something on mindless autopilot, then it requires 150% of my maximum brainpower while I can only run at a strict maximum of 40%.

Memories, but especially names, escape me. Not just people names, but names of objects, places, and whatever else. I need to describe them or their use. It's difficult to talk to people about my special interests without making a complete fool of myself, because I can tell you the underlying mechanics and storyline, but then I have to describe items, cards, gems, weapons, characters, places, you name it. It makes me feel like a failure because others with special interests can tell you every single detail of every single thing using all the names and they can just recite them like an actor would for a play.

I need to stress the memory part more because I used to practically have an eidetic memory for some things, like how I could draw maps of places after only being there once (assuming it wasn't some kind of sprawling complex where every single room and hallway and nearly identical). Now, it's just a fog or a haze and I can only remember things roughly at best for places I've been multiple times.

It feels like having gripes about my appearance are so...superficial? Shallow? It feels like I'm supposed to like myself and every bit of my exterior unconditionally, and wishing anything was different is just something that people who only care about their appearance are supposed to do.

I don't mind my gut, surprisingly. It's smooth and round and doesn't have all the folds and rolls that some lighter but bigger people have that I dislike the look of.

I do dislike how thin and sparse my body hair is. I do have some traces on my thighs, belly, forearms, underarms, and my pubes - though they are all so thin and sparse you have to actually look for it because it barely counts as hair. I do have a single tuft in the middle of my chest, though, for whatever reason. It's the thickest, darkest patch of hair anywhere.

The only traces of facial hair I have is a thin line of hair on my upper lip, 5 tiny and short hairs right below the middle of my bottom lip, and a bunch of thick, wiry, and obvious hairs on the area between my chin and neck. It's a patch the size of my palm and stays consistent.

One of the things I envy about most other overweight men is the fact that their penis is external all the time. Even flaccid, it just dangles there for all to see or to play with. Meanwhile, even when I'm hard mine stays hidden. It was small from birth, stayed small through puberty, and got even smaller for whatever reason since then.

I hate saying anything about it because just mentioning it comes across as your typical "shallow male complaint" of "I wish my dick was bigger, 7 inches is too small". But I can't top because of it, and nobody wants to touch it because they all expect something much larger.

Recently, I've been dealing with one of those infamous anal fissures. They are so dang painful and perpetually bleed so much. It just adds to the strictures (basically scar tissue on the sphincter) my doctor said I had, and looking them up just told me that I basically either take a few years to manually stretch things out to get at least some stretchiness back, or forsake doing things back there entirely. I'm more inclined to just forsaking things entirely since just going to the bathroom after taking my meds for a few days was enough to cause a tear.

And this part is less shallow.

I was doing some thinking, because even though it is difficult to recognize and point things out as they happen, sometimes you can realize it after the fact. My exhaustion and easy fatigue have been around for a while. Putting it lightly, of course. I had realized I showed signs for years now, albeit nowhere near as bad as now.

Giving a bj to my fourth ex, G, was difficult because even though I greatly enjoyed it, my jaw started to hurt and ache so incredibly quickly. We chalked it up to inexperience and I tried to practice, but never got another chance to try with him. When I got to my eighth, J, I was having the same issues. Except I also had issues with my hands, where my arms would ache and become incredibly weak to the point of uselessness before I could get him to climax. No matter how many times I tried, I never got or felt any better and it was a point of frustration to him. Even though he never reciprocated (except for once, but that was a nightmare) I don't blame him for feeling that way, I'm frustrated with myself because I get that way just taking care of my own thing. Plus, even just eating is enough to make my jaw ache and feel swollen anymore.

And another thing is the whole vacation bit I mentioned in another post. When I was working, I always thought that it felt like I'd go to sleep at the end of the day, and instead of being fully rested my batter would only be at 99%. And then the next day it would only be at 98%. It wasn't always a literal day between, but that's how it felt. Taking a week long break didn't make me feel any better, I felt like I was at a permanent 75% regardless of how much sleep I got during that week. Even talking to a buddy, he told me that staying awake for two days and then sleeping at a normal time makes you feel like a god, but it just made me feel even more tired and worn out.

But now, I feel like I'm at a permanent 25%. All it takes is anything more than just one quick trip to the local small store to wipe me out for the whole day. If I spend a day with friends (don't bark at me, only two of them work, one is tested almost daily and the other refuses contact because of the high risk of their job, the rest stay at home all day) then I come home feeling like I just ran a marathon and need to sleep. Taking a walk around the grocery store takes me out for the rest of the day.

And I just...I don't know. None of the docs are willing to cooperate because I don't spend an hour a day exercising, because I have this junk food diet that they assigned me upon first sight, because I'm not working.

I'm socially dead because I'm not working. Every time I talk to someone, it's about where I'm working, what job I moved to, what I'm doing now that I'm not still stocking shelves. If I say my health declined and I'm trying for disability, they always just give me this look like I'm just one of those lazy kids who want to work the system and that's that.

My head is just so cloudy and it's getting difficult to think. So I think I'm done writing and rewriting and rewriting and rewriting this. It's already a massive essay that nobody reads, but at least I have a written record, albeit anonymously, of how things went down so at least someone can see my body when it fails someday and know my history and what I went through up to this point. I don't want it to be a huge mystery to everyone just because my family discounts how I feel and try to pretend nothing is wrong.

#Personal #Medical #Rant #Whining #This one is a really long essay #Not that anyone reads these #If you do I'm sorry you put yourself through this just for some stranger on the internet #You don't need to reveal yourself to me #I'd just be glad knowing someone knows my story

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metasnkpotato · 5 years ago

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if armin is a slave of bert’s memories, isn’t eren a slave to 3 people’s memories then?

In a way, yes Eren is as much slave as Armin of the memories he has.

It’s a tortuous point and honestly, I struggle understanding, like many other fans, why Armin didn’t argue Eren on it. Accuse someone of not being in control of his own thoughts because he’s a titan shifter when you’re the titan shifter of at least three different people, that’s limit of sarcasm.

It’s probably because he was very agitated by Eren’s corrosive invectives about his uselessness, one of his biggest personal tearing. It was Eren who managed to convince him otherwise and push him to overcome the most complicated situations by giving him confidence every time:

So, of course, when the same Eren tells him “before you might have been useful, but since we decided to keep you alive by make you eat Bertholdt, you’re useless” implying that serumbowl’s result was maybe a wrong choice after all, and knowing that in addition Armin was especially afraid of that…

Well, he may have been baffled for a few moments.

That, and perhaps the fact that Eren accused him of being an enemy titan holder while he has the spirit of Grisha and Kruger, two men who fought more than anything for Eldia (putting aside the fact that he has lobotomized Reiss and Lady Tybur too… which isn’t really logical, something that Armin could have sensed… no, decidedly, I can’t understand).

From a mental POV and about the free will, Eren cannot claim to be completely clean. Imo, he doesn’t even really think what he says at the beginning of chapter 112 :

Why umbrage and hide half of his face, put more emphasis on his words than his expression if it isn’t a truthful and powerful statement as he often do ? Eren’s judgment cannot technically be perfectly unbiased, and he knows it.

But he asserts it, so that his friends cannot ‘unresponsabilize’ him. Perhaps one of the reasons for his anger at Armin’s words elsewhere :

After all, Eren tried more and more to get his friends away and leaving as much as possible on his shoulders their responsibilities since Marley Arc. Something that he indeed did of his own will and in a form of freedom, but that still imprisons him.

Moreover, it has been shown several times that Eren was also influenced by memories and feelings that were not his own. After having reached the basement, he lost himself several times in his father’s memories to the point of confusing his identity with Grisha’s, crying for Dinah as if it were his own wife.

One might think that it was because Eren was still struggling to cope with the sudden overload of memories, and may have learned to define who were the memories of who over time (and especially with the direct access to Grisha’s memory by kissing Historia’s hand). But this proved true again, even after that, by some of his actions in Marley’s arc that sound uncharacteristic from him.

Have you ever see Eren made “heyhey” to call someone ? Well, even without that because it’s not a big deal, the following of him being able to spot that Falco was acting out of romantic love is uncharacteristic from him

Because he showed in Uprising arc that he wasn’t able to recognize love’s code.

I first thought that during the time skip, Eren had perhaps garnered enough experience including that of love and that it was just a mark of his adult maturity. But Isayama stated that :

When Eren asked Falco “Is that person…a girl?”, he was under the influence of other people’s memories (Possibly Grisha in that moment).

So does Eren also have a problem with managing his own thoughts because of his three titans holding ? Yes. But does it make him, like Armin, total slaves of their memories? Of course not.

Memories play a large part in the formation of a person, but they’re not the person theirselves. Take the example and ideas used by the philosopher John Locke in An Essay Concerning Human Understanding.

Locke theorizes that the foundation of a person’s identity is the identity of consciousness, which excludes the fact that identity rests solely on the mind (ie memories) and only on the body. For this purpose he resorts to a thought experiment : if it were possible for one consciousness to live alternately with two different bodies, then there would be one and the same person in two distinct bodies. On the other hand, if it were possible for two distinct consciousnesses to inhabit the same body alternately, then there would be two persons in one and the same body.

The last case is that of the shifters, several people live in them, they sometimes confuse themselves who is who, but the limit if it’s cloudy, isn’t non-existent. The identity of a person doesn’t rest on his memories, but on the consciousness itself.

Anyway, I would certainly try to make another post to deal with this idea to not scatter here, and because the theme of consciousness and identity is something quite recurrent in SNK, and Locke, also Nietzsche, are quite relevants on that.

Afterwards, of course, Grisha’s recollections have greatly influenced Eren in his decision-making and it’s these that we have seen the most, but it’s more probable that at the present stage of story, those of Kruger are the real key to finally read the actions of Eren in an understandable light. With luck, we may finally know what they are and what’s in Eren’s rolling head in the coming chapters.

It’s a very pointed question so I hope I didn’t tell too much obvious things to avoid respond to it because this ask was quite interesting. Thank you very much for having posed it !

#shingeki no kyojin #snk #attack on titan #AoT #shingeki no kyojin meta #snk meta #attack on titan meta #aot meta #shingeki no kyojin analysis #SNK analysis #attack on titan analysis #AoT Analysis #eren #eren yeager #Eren Jaeger #armin #armin arlert

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stuckwith-harry · 6 years ago

Text

Chapter 1: November

A particular brotherly feeling

Summary: She has a brother and an ex-boyfriend to spite, and he desperately needs a date. So when the rumour that Harry and Ginny are together makes the rounds at Hogwarts, she has the ridiculous idea to use it to their advantage and play along. Harry wants to help her out just like any brother would, and that is the only reason he says: “Okay. Deal.”

A/N: This story was requested by @katiechasedbells. Well, Emi requested Hinny + TATBILB-esque fake dating. I added the Christmas theme, because Christmas is great. Rated T for f-bombs, f-bombs, and more f-bombs, one (1) light innuendo so far, and some slightly heavier themes later on. Merry Christmas, I love you fools!

Ao3

November

Santa tell me, if you're really there Don't make me fall in love again If he won't be here Next year

Santa tell me - Ariana Grande

“… and I guess that’s all I came here to say.”

Dean carefully raises his head to see her reaction, shifting on his feet. Judging from the way he is struggling to meet her eyes, it’s clear he wants this conversation to be over just as much as she does. “I’m sorry, Ginny.”

Ginny nods once to indicate she understands. She does – perhaps more than she likes to admit.

“Thanks for being honest, at least.”

Dean’s shoulders relax, and she can’t help but wonder just how worried he was about ending up at the receiving end of a particularly vicious Bat-Bogey hex.

“I hope Seamus knows he’s lucky”, she says. When a deep red flush creeps up Dean’s dark cheeks, she doesn’t fight the urge to roll her eyes. “C’mon, how oblivious do you think I am?”

To this, Dean says nothing: He’s suddenly fascinated by his own shoelaces, and Ginny considers that answer enough.

“Thanks for understanding”, he says finally.

Ginny finds herself untangling the arms she had kept crossed over her chest. “It’s fine. I get it.” She tugs at the crimson-and-gold scrunchie around her wrist and shrugs. “You gotta do what you gotta do, yeah?”

Dean smiles at her flatly, and that’s it. He squeezes her shoulder before he turns around, leaving her standing in the half-dark of the short passageway.

Ginny glares at the heavy crimson tapestry that hides the short cut to Gryffindor Tower. Only days ago, the two of them were snogging each other in this very spot like their lives depended on it. At least until Harry and Ron barged in on them and ruined the moment.

That reminds her she has somewhere to be, so she takes one last look and then turns her back on the spot.

She never would have guessed this is where they’d break up.

***

Just as Ginny makes it back to her dormitory, Harry Potter jumps down a flight of stairs several floors below. He’s late for Quidditch practice, his team – Ron – is still playing inconsistently, to say the least, and like that isn’t enough to worry about, he catches the eye of none other than Romilda Vane when he finally makes it to the bottom of the marble staircase.

“Hiya, Harry!”

“Quidditch practice”, Harry tells her abruptly, rushing past her.

To his dismay, shaking her off is no easy feat, and she’s still keeping up with him when he marches outside with the longest strides he can manage.

“Rumour has it you still haven’t found a date Slughorn’s Christmas party!”, she tells his back. Harry sighs at the cloudy sky – one, because that damn party is giving him headaches to rival Voldemort’s, and two, because she’s absolutely right. “So, I was thinking …”

Not that he’s planning on telling Romilda Vane that.

“I’ve – uh – found someone, actually”, he says.

“Really?”, she says, sounding slightly crestfallen. Harry notices it not without satisfaction. “Who?”

“It’s a – surprise”, Harry says wildly, wondering how on earth she doesn’t notice he’s making all this up on the spot. “Well, uh, practice calls, see you around!”

And with that, he all but runs off down to the Quidditch pitch, where his disgruntled-looking team is waiting for him.

Merlin help him, he’s got to find a date.

He’s just opened his mouth to apologise to his teammates when he spots someone running towards them from the other end of the pitch. As they come closer, he recognises Ginny, who’s rather unceremoniously pulling her long, fiery hair into a ponytail using the Gryffindor scrunchie around her wrist.

“Where’ve you been?”, Harry asks, snapping into his Captain self, when she finally jogs up to them.

“None of your business”, she shoots back. “Captain”, she adds, when he raises an eyebrow at her.

With great effort, Harry keeps from grinning, and he’s still fighting an inexplicable jolt of smugness when he says: “Alright, everyone, time to get going before the rain does …”

Out of the corner of his eye, he watches Ginny swing a leg over her broom and kick herself off the ground with more force than strictly necessary. She shoots into the sky like a missile, her long, flaming ponytail trailing after her, a bursting streak of colour against the dark grey clouds looming over them.

Of course, the rain doesn’t wait for them to finish practice. The seven of them stick it out for a full hour before Harry takes pity on them, so they retreat to the castle, shivering, soaking wet and, if possible, in an even worse mood than before.

On the way back to the common room, the team falls into the usual groups, and Ginny finds herself walking between Ron – who’s dragging his broom after him with slouched shoulders – and Harry, who catches her eye when she looks over at him.

“You alright?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Oh, you know, just the general murderous attitude”, he says, probably because there’s no non-awkward way to say something is clearly wrong, but I’m afraid you’re gonna hex me if I ask you outright.

Still, his tone and his grin loosen the knot at the pit of Ginny’s stomach a little. Ever since last summer, she hasn’t been able to shake the feeling that he’s trying to establish himself as some sort of honorary big brother to her, and another one of those is the last thing she needs at the moment.

It also doesn’t feel like them at all.

Like the aftertaste of a truly lousy practice and the pent-up energy she’d been saving for Quidditch isn’t enough to drive her up the wall, she now finds her thoughts circling back to her boyfriend – ex-boyfriend – and it doesn’t even bring the rush of angry self-righteousness she’d hoped for. Instead, she feels oddly deflated, and Merlin, she’d have chosen any fucking thunderstorm over this.

And it’s not – heartbreak. Even as the weight of the breakup sinks down on her, Ginny finds she has no desire to fling herself on her four-poster bed and sob into her pillow until all the crying gives her a headache: something she’s watched every single one of her roommates go through at least once. She would have expected to feel some sort of shock or betrayal – at least a little despair – but there’s nothing. Not quite.

By the time they’ve changed into dry clothes, the common room is packed, and the armchairs closest to the fireplace are all occupied, so they sit cross-legged on the thick, scarlet carpet and begrudgingly spread their homework across the floor. Harry is still doing his utmost to build up Ron’s spirits again, who seems to have fallen into his usual post-practice hole of self-loathing, but Ginny pays them no attention and gets started on a half-hearted History of Magic essay instead.

She lets herself be distracted when Harry gives up on trying to talk sense into Ron and scoots closer to the fireplace with an exasperated sigh. Happy to think about anything else, she gives him what she hopes is a compassionate sort of grin and says: “Sorry practice was lousy, Captain.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about”, he says with a smirk. “Practice was spectacular.”

Behind them, Ron snorts into his homework, and Harry turns to him. “Come on, it wasn’t that bad and you know it.”

Ron and Ginny simultaneously raise their eyebrows. Just then, Ginny can see Dean climb through the portrait hole, and because that’s the last thing she wants to think about right now, she turns to Harry and says: “Look on the bright side, it can’t get much worse from here.”

“Don’t challenge him”, Harry mutters – quietly, so only she can hear him.

Ginny laughs with more enthusiasm than the joke deserves, in the hopes to distract him, but unfortunately, Harry isn’t that oblivious. He follows Ginny glances and looks over his shoulder to see Dean standing in the middle of the common room, looking oddly out of place, and back to Ginny, who’s been trying – and failing – to avoid eye contact.

Even worse, it seems to have caught Ron’s attention, too.

“What’s going on with you two?”, Harry asks, perfectly casual.

Ginny plays with a dog-ear on the upper right corner of her Transfiguration paper, where the y of her last name has disappeared in the crease. “We broke up”, she says shortly.

A small silence falls, but it’s not Harry who catches her attention first.

“What?”, she snaps at Ron when she sees his face.

“Nothing”, he says, not quite meeting her eye. And then, very quietly: “Well, I’m sure it won’t take you long to find someone new.”

Right there and then, Ginny would love to push him into the fucking fireplace. She opts to get to her feet instead, because she isn’t going to sit here and let her brother slut-shame her like he, of all people, would know what the fuck he’s talking about. “You know what, Ron?”, she spits, loud enough for half the common room to hear. “Go fuck yourself. Figure you could use the experience.”

And with one last glance at Ron’s quickly reddening face, she storms out of the common room.

The miserable day stretches and becomes a week. Slughorn’s party blows up in the back of Harry’s mind like a disgustingly sparkly balloon until it consumes his every thought, and while he’s not particularly pleased about it, he decides it’s time to ask for advice.

So, when he catches Hermione on the way to lunch, he decides to bite the bullet.

“Hermione – who do I ask to this stupid party?”

“Harry! Merlin, I thought you would have found someone by now!” Harry fights the urge to sigh at the sight of Hermione’s shocked expression. “It’s in less than three weeks!”

“Which is plenty of time”, Harry tells her firmly. “It’s just, uhm …”

“You’re trying to get your admirers off your back”, she says matter-of-factly, rummaging through her bag.

Harry grimaces. “If you have to put it like that. Well – I kind of told Romilda Vane I’ve got a date because she wouldn’t leave me alone, but if I don’t find one soon, she’s going to figure out I lied. Plus – I really don’t know who to ask.”

“Anyone, Harry”, says Hermione in her most exasperated voice. “Ideally, someone impressive enough to get Romilda off your back for good, although, between you and me, I’m not convinced that kind of person exists. But there’s got to be someone.”

“You’re one to talk, who are you bringing?”, Harry shoots back at her.

Hermione blushes a pale shade of pink, but doesn’t reply.

By sheer virtue of not being in the same year, Ginny and Dean manage to avoid each other during the days following the breakup. On the rare occasion that they do pass each other in the hallway or in the common room, they give each other polite smiles, which, at the very least, is an improvement from her last breakup.

Regardless: It turns out that even the most amicable breakup in history leaves traces that sting, so she spends the rest of the week throwing out all every bit of homework that Dean has ever doodled on – tiny sketches and notes in the margins for her to find in class the next day. On Wednesday, he sheepishly gives back her scarf, and by Thursday night, she’s learned to avoid their regular armchair in the common room.

Less than a week to untangle their lives.

Apart from Dean, she’s been avoiding Ron as well, who continues to be his usual, insufferable self. Ginny doesn’t think she can handle another snide remark about her and Dean without exploding and taking everyone in a radius of ten miles with her, so perhaps it’s fortunate they’re both so busy with schoolwork she hardly sees him.

Ron is neither the only person to raise an eyebrow at Ginny’s dating habits, nor is he the first – that honour goes to the twins – and it’s not particularly new or surprising either, but all that makes it worse, if anything. As far as Ron is concerned, Ginny has snogged a dashing total of two people in her entire life, and she’ll be damned if she lets him shame her for that.

It’s only Luna no one knows about. But if Ron is so determined to make her feel like a horrible person because she has the audacity to snog exactly two different boys, she’s not about to throw a girl into the mix and watch what he does with that extra ammunition.

Dick.

She’s marching down a hallway near the Transfiguration wing, arms crossed, when she hears laughter from nearby, and just as she stops, Michael Corner and Cho Chang come around a corner, and arm in arm at that.

The three of them come to an awkward halt with half the hallway still between them. Ginny and Michael make reluctant eye contact.

“Hi, Michael.”

Michael opens his mouth as if to answer, but then something in his face flickers: he deliberately takes his time as he turns to Cho, appearing not to have heard Ginny at all, and kisses her flat on the mouth.

And while that’s a nice – and noisy – reminder why breaking up with him was one of Ginny’s better decisions, watching him flaunt how glad he is to be shot of her is the last thing she needs today. She pushes past them, almost knocking over a bewildered-looking third-year, and stomps down a flight of stairs, where she promptly runs into Harry.

“Hey”, he says, blinking at her. “What’s going on?”

“I’m plotting a murder”, she says briskly. “Happy?”

“As long as it’s not mine.”

Ginny grins despite herself. He already has that disgusting, protective look on his face she’s come to loathe so much – but they’re friends, real friends, so she tells him about Dean and Michael and Ron, in short, clipped sentences that clearly indicate she doesn’t want pity.

“Alright”, she says when she’s blown off enough steam to feel like she can go for the rest of the conversation without yelling. “Your turn. Really, I could use the distraction.”

Harry looks over his shoulder when the nearing sound of many feet on stone indicate dinner at the Great Hall is over. He sighs.

“Our team is giving me a stomachache, is all”, he says. “Ron and Hermione aren’t really talking right now, so I get to decide who I feel like hanging out with today, which is fun. Uhm – Voldemort is out there, I guess.”

Ginny snorts.

“And I need a date for Slughorn’s stupid Christmas party”, he says over the humming of the students scuttling past them. “Which is clearly the most stressful thing out of all of these. Hey, Colin, what’s up?”, he adds with little enthusiasm when the startlingly blond kid – Ginny recognises him from class, but they’ve never talked much – turns around and blinks at the pair of them, at least until the dinner crowd runs him over.

Ginny turns back to Harry, who sighs. “Thanks for letting me vent, anyway, Harry.”

“Any time,” he says, looking slightly startled when she pats his arm. “Happy to help.”

In hindsight, they absolutely should have seen it coming.

Friday becomes a Hermione day because Harry begrudgingly decides he needs to visit the library, and he can’t convince Ron to accompany him. He hasn’t even made it down to the right floor yet when she comes running towards him, her bushy hair flying in all directions.

“You asked Ginny!”

It’s not a question.

“I what now?”

“Oh, come on, Harry, half the school is talking about it anyway. When did you ask her? Since when has this been going on? Why didn’t you say anything?”

Harry takes a deep breath. “Hermione, what on earth are you talking about?”

Hermione’s face adopts the tragic look Harry has come to associate with her not being able to answer McGonagall’s questions – something he doesn’t get to see a lot. “Slughorn’s party, Harry. Everyone’s talking about how you’re bringing Ginny, and rumour has it you’re going out and all that.”

“And since when do you mindlessly believe rumours?”

“I don’t!” She seems offended. “But you did say you were looking for a date, and it makes complete sense to bring Ginny! Frankly, I was almost surprised you hadn’t considered it sooner. So, are you not –”

“There you are!”

Harry looks up, and his stomach jolts: Ginny is running towards them, her long, flaming hair flying behind her.

“Hi, Hermione, Harry, I need to talk to you right now.”

“I –” Harry lets himself be dragged away by Ginny, who’s grasped his hand and is now pulling him behind her until they’ve found an empty classroom.

“What’s going on?”

“So, I take it you’ve heard the rumours”, she says, locking the door with her wand.

Harry looks at her with wide eyes. “Yeah, what –”

“Have you told Hermione it’s not true?”

“I was going to when you kidnapped me!”

She crosses her arms and looks at him with a glint of mischievousness in her eyes that reminds Harry of the twins. “You haven’t. Great.”

“Who made that up, anyway?”

Ginny shrugs. “My money is on Colin. He probably heard more than we realised the other day.”

It takes Harry a second to remember what she’s talking about. “For the record, I wasn’t asking you – I was just telling you –”

“I know that. I guess it sounded like you were asking me or something.”

“And apparently we’re dating, too?”

“Oh, yeah, I’ve heard that one, too”, she says. “They’re all insane, I’ve had to explain to three of my friends that we didn’t make out behind the greenhouses in the last hour alone.”

Harry feels himself blush. Ginny bites her bottom lip and grins. “I’m assuming you still really need that date.”

“Well – y-yeah, but …”

“And I wouldn’t mind a way to get back at Michael. And Ron.”

“What … does that have to do with me?”

“You see, out of all the people at this school …” She steps closer. “I reckon it would piss him off the most if I dated his best mate. So, the way I see it, we could help each other out here.”

Harry stares at her in stunned silence. Then: “You’re saying we play along.”

Ginny nods, and Harry’s mind runs into a thousand directions at once, pulling at every limb.

This is insane.

This is Ginny.

Ron’s going to kill him.

No was never an option.

Ron is going to kill him.

“So, what, we – pretend we’re actually together?”

“Yeah. Just for a while.”

Harry only hesitates to declare her insane because he’s quickly beginning to see the appeal. If he shows up to Slughorn’s party with not just a date, but a girlfriend, and it’s Ginny Weasley – well, that might just get Romilda to leave him alone for good.

“Ron’s going to kill me.”

“I’m told you have a knack for surviving the impossible”, she says, wiggling an eyebrow.

Can’t argue with that.

And the truth is, he can understand why Ginny would want to stick it to Ron. Not that he’d ever tell Ron that. Harry doesn’t have a death wish after all.

His mind zooms back to the day they walked in on Dean and Ginny, and the weird surge of protectiveness he had felt. That’s the only real feeling he’s ever had towards her, he tells himself firmly – so isn’t dating her the perfect chance to prove that?

He wants to help her out just like any brother would, and that is the only reason he says: “Okay. Deal.”

#hinny #harry potter #fanfiction #hp fanfic #apbf #jessie writes

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my-strange-attraction · 3 years ago

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I feel like there isn’t as much continuous questioning that comes with allo identities. Far be it from me to speak on this because I am aroace and don’t have the experience of being allo but I do read a lot and I also have pretty strong platonic attraction and I’m just sick of waking up every morning and going out into the world wondering if this is the day I’m going to realize I actually was just a “late bloomer” all along.

It’s hard. And that’s not to say that coming to terms with other sexualities isn’t and there isn’t internalized heteronormativity to recon with but I have the feeling that internalized amatonormativity gives aspec people a much harder time more consistently because there’s no “proof”. There’s nothing to point to and say that’s the lack of attraction because by definition you can’t physically see the lack of something. And because of this I think it’s much more likely that when an aspec person comes to terms with their identity, even if they’re pretty confident in it, they continue to question it all the time, and even if there is a bit of this with allo identities, I don’t think it’s to the same extent.

That’s not to say there aren’t certain allo identities that this would be worse for, like I know multi-spec people are probably more likely to deal with this as well. It’s the out of sight out of mind kind of impostor syndrome with those identities, I think, where they question their attraction to other genders when they’re dating someone or crushing on someone of a certain gender. Not that that’s not hard or doesn’t also suck, but with aspecs its more nebulous and I think more confusing. I mean look at the average age that aspecs figure out they’re aspec vs when non-hetero allos figure out their sexualities. It takes a lot longer for us because it’s hard to recognize something that’s not actively happening.

I think I’m just rambling now, but i think this is an important discussion that I don’t really see happening, and you know that one post about the trauma that aspec people have just from growing up in an amatonormative world? I think this is part of that, and it’s something that continues to affect aspec people for a long time even after we’ve come to terms with our identity. Let me know what you guys think about this, though, I always welcome discussion on my posts!

#aspec #acespec #arospec #asexual #aromantic #aroace #ace #aro #amatonormativity #questioning #queer #lgbt #cloudy rambles #another one of cloudy's essay posts

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scroll-of-thought · 6 years ago

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Divination Through the Use of a Cloud Chamber

This isn’t going to be a formal essay on this or anything, more of a proof of concept, but I’ll be including sources at the end for anyone who’s interested in learning more on the topic. And as a disclaimer, I’m not a physicist, though I have an interest in physics. This is a concept based on metaphysical concepts and traditions.

The general idea here is using the semi-random paths of alpha particles in place of the other semi-random elements of something like casting runes, drawing tarot, or using a pendulum, in divination. A cloud chamber, simply put, is a jar that’s filled with vapor, and it holds a radioactive element. While the radioactive element decays, particles will stream off of it, colliding with the vapor in the chamber, which leaves behind visible clouds of mist.

This post will not include any pseudo-science about the magickal properties of radioactive elements, or assign meanings to particle movements that have existing scientific meaning, or anything like that. We’re using science as a lens to observe randomization hard to produce by other traditional means. So let’s break this down from both ends.

Divination largely relies on randomization in one form or another. Some of the older and more archaic methods involved things like observing dust particles dancing in the light of a window and trying to decipher meaning. More modernly cards are shuffled, stones, dice and bones are thrown, a pendulum swings over a board of answers. Generally speaking, as witches, we ask the universe to give us a few bits of information in the form of randomization we can assign meaning too, decoding it into useful foreshadowing. Cards become correlation, stones give way to patterns, and the pendulum gives us access to what’s just outside of our conscious knowledge. One of the most random events I can think of would definitely be the decay of a radioactive substance, and I imagine it would be just as good an indicator or random universal information, as any of the traditional methods. So how do we observe this random decay?

A cloud chamber is a chamber, which is super saturated with isopropyl alcohol. The bottom of the chamber is cooled by a thermo-electric device and heat sink (or sometimes dry ice) and the top is left room temperature. Inside the particles of of alcohol will vaporize and that will form an invisible cloud. In physics a radioactive sample will be placed in the chamber while it’s active and when an alpha particle is released from the decaying sample it’ll collide with the vapor, leaving behind a cloudy track. When a magnetic field is applied to the chamber, some particles will move in a circular pattern, showing their charge, and potentially their mass.

So how do we use it in divination? Well, in part I’ll leave that to you, but I have some ideas of how it could and probably shouldn’t be used.

One method might be to use it similar to a pendulum, by placing a chart and observing where the particles point. You could surmount meaning from the angle, frequency, and starting/ending position of the particle.

Some things to remember. The curve, number or loops, and overall distance will be determined by many factors of the sample your using and the magnetic field. I don’t think it would be wise to assign meaning to these things, or at least not without having deep knowledge of the actual physics behind the process. The fact that your track in 3 or 4 centimeters long doesn’t mean anything other than the fact that you’re using lead 210 and the amount of energy and the mass of the particles dictate that they go that far most commonly. The direction and quality of loops can simply be determined by the mass of the particles and their charge. So know these things before assigning meanings to predictable variables. It’s all about the uncontrollable randoms that might be trying to tell you something.

Assuming this form of divination would work, I’d also think to calibrate your device. I’ve seen a lot of people do this with cards and stuff. Start by asking questions you know the answers to. Then, adjust the device until the answers match up with reality. From there you can start to ask about the unknown, and record your findings.

So like I said, this is just a concept at the moment. I don’t have the money, time or spare computer parts to build a cloud chamber, though I do have some designs in mind that involve spinning magnetic fields to add more random effects. regardless, thank you for entertaining this idea, and I’d be interested in hearing your thoughts.

Warning: Educate yourself and follow safety standards before handling any radioactive materials. Know the dangers of handling high amperage electronics, especially if you’re going to build a cloud chamber yourself. Even if you’re going to build one for taking cool pictures or video, it’s important to know what you’re doing. Maybe contact a local physics department and explain you’d like to make one for photography of particle tracks and see if they have any information they can give you.

Sources and further reading:

A Diffusion Cloud Chamber (video of how to make one and it in action)

A-level Physics (Advancing Physics)/Cloud Chambers and Mass Spectrometers

Cloud Atlas (great description of the device and science behind it)

Radioactive decay (wikipedia)

#witchcraft #also #science #divination #my content

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imissthefire · 5 years ago

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Every even njmber 1-20 please for thr ask game! Also good luck in College/University!!!!

2. chocolate bars or lollipops?

This is hard since I’m not the biggest fan of chocolate nor lollies… I’m gonna go with chocolate bars so long as they’re not purely chocolate (like they’re mixed with something else ie peanut butter or something)

4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you?

Elementary school was a whole long range, like kindergarten to grade 7, I changed a lot. For the most part, my teachers found me to be a very quiet student though, so we’ll go with that.

6. pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear?

I love boho and pastel style, but I don’t like it on me. I dress either preppy or grunge (more preppy than grunge, but still)

8. movies or tv shows?

I don’t have the attention span to sit through a whole tv series and keep up with the plot, but I also don’t have the attention span to sit through a whole movie, so like,,, tv shows that aren’t dependant on knowing what happened several episodes ago.

10. game you were best at in p.e.?

Not to flex on y’all, but I’m super good at dodgeball. I’m a goalie, which is ironic cuz in being that, you don’t wanna be good at dodging things, but it also coincidentally has made me really good at catching things, so I kick ass at dodgeball.

12. name of your favorite playlist?

I think the playlist I listen to the most (at least as of lately) is my playlist called falling.

14. favorite non-chocolate candy?

I LOVE FUZZY PEACHES! They’re my fave sweet in general so like, yeehaw

16. most comfortable position to sit in?

Okay, not to be really gay but I like sitting either on one knee and the other leg crossed over in front of me, or sitting on a chair with another chair in front of me/under my table across from me to put my legs up on (which I am currently doing)

18. ideal weather?

I love windy cloudy days. Not super windy, but like, windy enough to hear a light howl or two and see leaves and stuff breezing by.

20. preferred place to write (i.e., in a note book, on your laptop, sketchpad, post-it notes, etc.)?

Depends on what I’m writing tbh. Usually a notebook or my laptop though. I use stickies when I’m writing little notes to myself (like reminders, or writing in a book sticking them in the book), I write my fiction and essays and such on my laptop, but I take notes in class in notebooks.

(sorry this took me a hot minute to do, I got really distracted halfway through this, oof)

Send me some weird asks!

(also thank you for the luck, I'm gonna need it)

#ask #asks #answered #anon #ask game #ask games #weird asks game #nqp

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goingbadly · 6 years ago

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mfw i mind my own business + surf intarweb + i see one (1) male humblebraggin that he "almost made his girl pass out many times" from sex chokin. + that tumblr post goin aroun about "how to choke properly" gets both the anatomy + the mechanism wrong????? google does not make you a SCIENTIST. im goin to say the n word unless u can guess which word i mean

Elegy Upon Receiving an Anonymous Message

Before beginning to read this, sit down. Instead, read Carmen Maria Machado’s The Husband Stitch in its entirety.Perform the stage directions.As you lick the blood off the soft place by your thumb where your loved one has cut you, ask yourself, what do these instructions add to the story?Ask yourself, what would it bring to my writing, if I directed my readers like this?Before beginning to read this, sit down. Instead, read the full text of an essay titled, The Effects of the 1967 War on Palestinians. You will feel the same sense of hollowness that The Husband Stitch gave you. You will wonder in the same way if you have ever really been believed. This essay is a relatively uninspired assessment of social movements in Palestine in the early 1970s, and it is dull, but in the citations, someone has written, you know what I am. When you read these words, you will feel an ache on the tip of your tongue like you have scorched it. I want you to ask yourself if this feeling came from the words or the author. Do you think, when Carmen Maria Machado sat down to write The Husband Stitch, if her tongue felt burnt?Do you wonder if the feeling you have now is one that I have passed to you, or one that you had inside to begin with?X It is a hot day in June and we are at the gun range, playing around with pistols. The sky is cloudy despite the heat, and behind my safety glasses the whole world is yellow. I am firing the Tokarev for the first time, and discovering I don’t like the experience. Compared to the smaller calibre pistols the power of it in my hands is new and strange, and I should like it but instead I am simply unsettled. I feel this uncomfortableness in my stomach, in the tense muscles pulling on the back of my neck. I turn and set the gun down on the table and take my glasses off to give myself a second to think. Outside of the safety-yellow the earth is curiously blue. W says, “Not that one?” reloading his little .22 rifle, and I say, “In a fight, I’d rather have something I feel like I’m in control of.”“In a fight, is that all?”He is the last friend I have that knew you and he smells like hot metal, sometimes, and I remember the night you introduced us and we sat in the McDonalds and I watched him pick food and dismiss you. I’d never seen you be dismissed before. I liked the way you leaned over the table towards him, your whole body clambering up and into his space as if the argument was a physical thing you could dominate. You were talking about something – some tactical advantage in a tiny war I’d never heard of. You demanded explanations, angles, concepts.W took pickles out of his burger and flicked them off his black fingernails onto the wrapper, barely listening. The knife at his hip bumped on his thigh as he tapped his heel, impatient with you. I’d never seen someone be impatient with you. When he whipped us down past Royal Oak to Goldfrappe, of all things, you grabbed the back of my seat with both hands to haul yourself forward and grin at him, white teeth sharp in your face. You moved into the space between us as if you owned that, too, and I felt myself giving way before you. I felt W looking at me in the mirror. He told you to calm yourself, easy, unruffled, and you – you said, “I am the law,” as a threat and a joke, and he laughed.(You tell a story in which he loses control of his car coming on the highway, wheeling end over end, and in dead silence the two of you spin out across lanes in the dark. I imagine him straight forward, eyes on the road, dismissive. I imagine you with your hands braced against the column of the windshield, moving into the space of the accident about to happen.)That June we are shooting with a friend of W’s that I don’t know, but he knows you. He says to me, “If M ever comes back into town – “ and W is watching me, the way he did in the mirror, with that careful awareness. I wonder if his expression is sliding back towards calm. I pick up the Tokarev again.How dare someone mention your name to me.W’s friend says, “I’ll say I met a girl covered in tattoos –“ and W interrupts, “M wouldn’t know her from that.” You, of course, did not know my body to have tattoos. A thin slice of something that might be an injury goes through me. When I stretch, the scar on my rib pulls and it makes me think of the places you have made me constricted. The gun range smells like hot air and dust. This is an inside joke that I am forced to have with myself, since you are not here. I think of how I have become a stranger to you. It has been (I do not have to think about this) it has been three years, and you are not coming home. How many deserts can I fit in a paragraph?“I’ll tell him I met a girl at the gun range – “You say this thing about people who don’t understand what we are, that they are civilians, that it is rude for me to include civilians in the knowledge that we have of each other’s violence. I think W’s friend is a civilian. I think you would understand, of all people, the roiling red feeling I have at his attempts to describe me. I picture you cautioning me to calmness. You of all people are familiar with my anger. You of all people know how much I hate that anyone would ever have knowledge of me that you don’t. “Tell him you met a girl with three scars on her arm,” I say.W reaches out and touches me like a warning towards restraint, because he is not a civilian, and he knows these words to be vicious. I hope, in your life, you encounter an endless stream of people who say these words to you: “I met a girl with three scars on her arm.” I want to haunt you like a ghost. I want your leaving me to reverberate in every sadness you feel. I hope every time you hear these words you think of the way that you cut me open and you feel an ache, a hollowness, a sensation like the tip of your tongue has been scorched.XAt this point, introduce yourself to someone who has never spoken to you before. Tell them, “As people become closer to us, we begin to resent their autonomy. We begin to be angry with them for not simply being compliant with us. The fact that they can make their own choices and think their own thoughts implies an unbearable separation.”Watch their face. I do not need to tell you which reaction means that they are a civilian.XYou pull your phone out of your pocket and say, “Just a minute.”Your girlfriend’s texting again, another crisis, probably. “Break up with her,” I tell you, grinning, arms crossed above you in the stairwell. I lean on the wall to watch you and the places the paper is peeling prick at my skin. The shadows make your skin look dark and your eyes look huge and hollow.You look at me and your smile gets a little unfriendly. “Defcon 4, Ms. Duncan.”“You don’t like her. You can’t help her. She’s just like this.” Also - although I am not about to say this out loud - You are leaving the country and in a month, you are going to be gone for a year. A year is forever. A year is a lifetime.It is intolerable to believe that this pasty sad ghost of a woman is going to have everything from you before I have a chance to ask for it. Or it is intolerable that she thinks she will; I know better than her what you are, and I think she can’t have you at all. I am looking at you in the shadows of the rickety stairs and the only light is coming in through the high old window in the hallway. I am not thinking anything that’s kind. Your skin is the colour of the rich warm earth made by decomposing trees and I want to bury my fingers in you, I want to glut myself, I want to be full.“She’s got some head stuff,” you say, “Still – “ Still - and I know, and you know, what still - means in this context. Still – I have seen you. Whatever thing there is in me can smell you, in the way that blood is for sharks in the water, in the way that dogs smell things that make them lift their heads and turn wolfish towards the door at night. I tilt my head to watch you and I feel something reptilian flex and coil under the surface of my skin. It is intolerable that this nothing girl thinks that she is between us.You come up the stairs towards me slowly, and I don’t move, until you are standing over me. I catch the sharp points of your teeth but I can’t bring myself to look up, where I know your eyes are watching me. Still.Different people feel different ways about things, I assume, and some people at this point would feel bad for your girlfriend – whatever crisis she’s having, whatever hard place she’s grinding herself down on. You do, I imagine, because at least at some point you must have cared about such things. I don’t feel bad. I tilt my chin up to you and I want, with a covetousness that is both unreasonable and cold. She should have known better. She should have not walked where I wanted to till the earth, where I wanted to make furrows in you.At some point, I tell you, I always get what I want, and you reply, but what you want is for me to bleed you, yes?And I still always get what I want.“Bring the boxcutter to bed,” I tell you. You do.Later that night you will stroke my face where the tears have been and ask me, “What if you couldn’t say no to me?” and that is the last time I will have a safeword with you.XStand, now, and turn towards the west.Explain to whatever wall you face how there are some loves that can only be communicated by handing someone a well-read and dog-eared book. If they do not understand what it means to be loved like your spine is being cracked, you have learned something about them.Examine your frustration with explaining things to a wall. Would it make it better if the distance between you and the nearest person on the other side were to suddenly collapse? Would it make it better if somehow, there was no wall at all?XOn the seventh of January 2019 you message me anonymously again. This makes me wonder if you also send the other anonymous message I receive the next morning, January the eighth, that reads: types of girls: 3. animal bones that crush under your jaw.I know it is you because there is no one else in my life I have told, I am unable to stay stable and have you speak to me. You are the only person who is blocked on all my accounts. Put this in perspective, like you are coming up the stairs and seeing my face turned towards you for the first time; my rapist has more access to me than you do. Think of the way I wear your shirt to sleep in, how I have worn thin spots in your memory where I have rubbed my thumb. What does that tell you, about the betrayal I felt when you did not come home? For once, I think, an overreaction was the truth. Your year away was forever, was a lifetime, after all.Let me tell you another truth, in three stories.First: Earlier this year I told a friend about you for the first time. She asked me, “Do you really think he stayed faithful to you in Sarajevo? The entire time you were dating?” And I felt the shock of it like recoil. In seven years, it had not occurred to me that you might have loved someone else while I thought you were mine.Second: I have not dated anyone since you that has not been jealous of you. In November I sat on my ex-boyfriend’s coffee table and propped my feet against his couch and smiled at him as he shook his head back. You have no language for the things that I gave him, but I couldn’t manage to give him the forgetting of you. What does this tell you? I have asked people for their love who didn’t believe that I wanted it, for the simple reason that they didn’t consider it possible I would want anyone but you. Does this show you a heart you thought was gone from me?Third: There was a third story, but - and if you are reading this out loud, read it as a cry of desperation - surely, after seven years, there can be one pound of flesh I do not owe to you? Surely there are some things I am not called to give up?Sometimes I think I will not stop turning in my bed at night until I have put a bullet in both of our heads. Is this the war you asked for? Is this how you wanted me to love you? You send me messages again. You ask me to once more redefine myself against your absence. It has been seven years. I have tried with my whole soul to be untouched by you. I have carved myself until the thing that you left behind is unrecognizable from the thing that you had, that you buried your teeth into, whose face you took the boxcutter to in the dark.Once I tried to throw your ring away; caught myself searching through garbage on my knees, jamming my fingernails into rot to find copper. Does this fill you with the same hot angry exhaustion it calls up in me? I wish I knew what shape my heart might be, without it curling around the absence of you.XLet me answer your anonymous message, then, with a last set of instructions.Read Carmen Maria Machado’s The Husband Stitch out loud to a man you have trusted. Ask him, would he promise not to harm you? Force him to promise.Next, have him take a pen. He should hold it horizontal, between his two hands, and press it down as hard as he can at the bottom of your fingernail. When you tell him it is unbearable, he will say, but this is bearable. This will not kill you.I wonder what that does to his promise.

#Anonymous #Elegy

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