#apply for and get my first job completely on my own without any help.

[crystalkitty1220]

Might have to scrap a fic idea because I thought the panic that came with time moving too slowly or too quickly was a universal thing, but now I'm realizing I probably have chronophobia and the fic might not feel the same to other people. Don't want it to drag on or feel rushed if readers won't get the same kind of anxiety the character's getting.

[call-me-strega]

Dc x DP Prompt #8: Best Friend’s Brother

Preface: this prompt can be used with different characters but I’m writing it as Dead on Main bc that’s my favorite. Also the colleges I mention are real colleges from the DCU

~~~

Danny Fenton was 18 when he moved to Gotham for college.

It was the only place with a half decent engineering program that would take a kid with his record; drop in grades, unexplained absences, missing class, a disciplinary record, etc. Plus there was a decent saturation of both magic and ectoplasm in Gotham’s air. After he got accepted he decided to tell his parents he was Phantom. They reacted surprisingly well all things considered. They were horrified to learn they’d been hunting their son but it quickly turned into acceptance to listen to what he had to tell them. Now they turned their obsession from hunting ghosts to learning more about ghost more humanely. He also managed to get his former rouges to agree to call off any major shenanigans in favor of less destructive outlets. (He got Ember a TikTok and a YouTube channel, he set up a drag racing circuit in the realms for Johnny and Kitty, let Technus enter the internet as long as he stayed within Amity’s grid or help Ember manage her stuff, allowed Desiree grant wishes for Make a Wish Foundation kids so long as she didn’t horribly twist them, etc.)

Now with the town not at constant risk of danger and his parents agreeing to really handle any rouge ghosts, Danny could leave Amity with a clear conscience. His friends were also growing up and heading to their own colleges. Tucker was heading to Ivy University in New England, which rivaled MIT in terms technological prestige, and Sam decided on Vandermeer University in Pittsburg, which had a reputation for being a very liberal, anti-authority campus. Although their trio would be spread out, Danny found comfort in the fact that they’d all moved from the Midwest to the Northeast.

With promises to stay in touch a visit. Danny got set up in GCU’s dorms, ready to move into the next chapter of his life.

~

Danny Fenton was 20 when Tim Drake (age 19 but nearing 20) officially became one of his best friends.

They had been introduced to each other by their mutual friend Sebastian Ives for a new Warlocks and Warriors campaign. Their friendship extended beyond WnW when they ended up on the same Applied Physics and Mechanics class. It was cemented when they got pair up for a project in class and had to spend lots of time around each other.

Danny didn’t mind that Tim tended to be a bit flaky and Tim didn’t mind that Danny was possibly not 100% human. They didn’t ask each other too many questions about that stuff. They knew the other had something odd about him and that was fine with them. It was nice to have a causal friend they could be normal with, without being questioned about their more peculiar behaviors.

They officially became best friends when the built a Rube Goldberg machine with a working trebuchet within an hour of the three they had to complete it for their Applied Phys-Mech final. Danny introduced Tim to Sam, Tucker and Jazz. Tim introduced him to Steph, Tam, and Cass. They texted and hung out fairly often. They truly did consider each other one their best friends.

~

Danny Fenton is 22 when he meets Tim’s family.

Tim’s 21st birthday is coming up and he has plans with his family the day of and is going out with his friends, including a couple from out of town, that night. They want to take him out for his first drink and it’s fortunate timing since it’s the weekend so nobody has to worry about classes. Everyone who was going was already informed that Tim would be spending most of the day with his family before Steph and Cass would bring to the club everyone was meeting up at. Which is why it’s purely a coincidence when he runs into them at BatBurger during the lunch rush.

Danny had just picked up the part-time job to earn a little extra cash to pay for his hobbies. Tim new about it but didn’t know the exact location he worked. That’s why they were both presently surprised when they heard each others voices in the drive through. When they pulled up to window Danny saw his friend leaning over a tired looking black-haired man, trying to stick his head out of the drivers window to give Danny a maniacal grin.

He quickly introduced the other passengers of the car as his dad, Bruce, and three of his brothers Dick, Jason, and Duke. He mentioned he had a fourth brother, Damian, who was still at home. Danny couldn’t really see everyone all that well on account of they were inside a car but he happily greeted them as well. They laughed and Danny wished Tim a happy birthday saying he’d see him at his celebration later tonight before handing them their food. He could the rowdy boys ribbing their brother as the car drove away and Danny resumed his work.

That incident seemed to have opened a gate because now Tim felt more comfortable inviting him over when his brothers were still around the house. He occasionally talked about his family more and Danny returned the favor letting snippets of his own family spill a little more. Occasionally, he’d see Tim’s family outside of his interactions with Tim.

He’d run into Damian, and sometimes Bruce or Dick was with him, at the museum or in the park while the younger had been walking his dog and stopped to say hi a couple of times. He chatted with Dick a couple of times when they were both in line to get coffee at a cafe. He saw Duke on a college tour once and waved at him.

The family member he probably saw the most other that Tim (and by extension Cass) was actually Jason. He’d ended up ditching BatBurger to get some more practical experience at an apprenticeship at the auto shop Jason went to to get his motorcycle serviced. The two of them got along pretty well and would often make conversation when Jason was waiting on his bike to be ready or to get his bill.

At first is was small talk about little things like how he and Tim were doing in class or how their days were going but they soon grew to have genuine interests in each other. Jason let Danny talk about space and mechanics and even gave his own thoughts sometimes, once helping Danny realize he was over complicating the circuit board of the device he was building. In return Danny let Jason ramble to him about literature, even taking the initiative to read a book Jason mentioned so he could talk to him about it better. Their conversation tended to be on the briefer side but were always enjoyable to both parties.

Danny actually liked being around Jason a lot but didn’t really bring that fact up a lot around Tim as it didn’t seem necessary. Tim was pretty glad that Danny got along with his family but he preferred to keep them in separate places in his mind. Danny knew and respected that, only really mentioning that he’d seen them recently and that they’d told him to say hi on their behalf (or die in Damian’s case occasionally).

~

Tim Drake was 22 when he came to a horrific realization.

Well, perhaps horrific was a bit of an exaggeration. Tim wasn’t necessarily horrified by the revelation. In all honesty he didn’t know how to feel. He felt an odd mixture of protectiveness, possessiveness, confusion, and optimism(?).

You see, Tim and Danny had been hanging out in the campus center, studying and goofing off when he got a text from Jason saying he was coming to pick him up for family dinner at the manor since he was closest and Dick was busy picking up Duke and Damian from their after school clubs.

“What’s up?” Danny asked him curiously.

Tim set his phone on the table and started putting his stuff away. “My brother is coming to pick me up for family dinner so I gotta head out soon.”

“Ah well I should probably get going too. Tell Dick I said hi.”

“Actually, it’s Jason. Dick is picking up Duke and Damian,” he said shoving his textbook into his bag.

“Oh? That’s nice of him. Hey do you wanna just head out together?” Danny asked, fidgeting with his hoodie strings.

Tim noticed a slight strain in Danny’s voice at the mention of Jason but didn’t comment. He just nodded his head sure and walked outside with Danny. They got out to the street when Tim realized he’d left his phone in the library. He faced palmed and asked Danny if he could hold his stuff so it wouldn’t slow him down as he ran back to the campus center to get his phone. Danny agreed to and hold his stuff and wait for Jason while Tim went back.

After getting his phone Tim started heading back to where he left Danny when he saw that Jason had arrived that Jason had arrived and was talking to Danny. He was about to call out to them when he noticed several things in quick succession. Danny was fidgeting with his hoodie, something he tended to do when nervous. The tips of Danny’s ears were a light shade of pink (it isn’t cold out yet?). Danny looked deeply absorbed in his conversation with Jason in a way that reminded Tim of how he talked about space. And Jason seemed just as absorbed in the conversation as well.

The gears in Tim’s head went into overdrive and he realized ‘Ah- Danny has a crush on Jason’. His eyes widened as his head whipped around to examine Jason again. He saw a look of genuine fondness in his eyes. Thus Tim was confronted with the aforementioned horrific realization and complicated feelings. Tim didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or both.

‘My dumbass best friend has a crush on my brother. And worse(?), my idiot brother returns those feelings.’

[gavisuntiedboot]

We Can't Be Friends (but I'd like to just pretend)

Pedri x Reader

Part 1

Warnings: None

Word count: 8.7k

A/N: After a lot of consideration, I have decided to start posting my Pedri series. I think that I can get a lot of interaction with these, and I think it is a good way to feed my soul and get eyes on what is happening in Palestine. So please, if you enjoy this series, consider helping out Palestine. Even if it's just with a click (second link!)

(Also if there are any continuity errors pls pls pls lmk)

Operation Olive Branch is an org working to help raise money to evacuate people from Gaza. I have decided to highlight Anwar and his family, who need to raise $35,000 in order to survive. Please donate what you can:

I will continue to highlight this family on all my posts until they reach their goal inshAllah.

Synopsis: Moving to a new country can be a pain in the ass. So can starting a new job when your position is completely different to what you thought. But nothing is going to stop you from achieving your goal of being the next Law Roach. Not the language barrier, your aching feet on the wonky streets, and definitely not your annoying, full of himself client. Because everything is going to stay professional, right?

~~~

"Bryce, can you please pay attention? God, I hate Americans."

The slow and thick laughter flowed through the line, peppered with static and cutting off whenever a particularly loud vehicle rolled past.

"Self-hating much? You are also American."

"I'm Texan, sweetheart. We are basically our own breed. Now can you help me?" You were finally able to flag down a taxi, stepping in carefully to make sure you didn't flash the driver. The stark white of the flowy skirt contrasted heavily with your bright orange cowboy boots, worn to match the white "TEXAS" baby tee with orange lettering. Your bangles clinked happily against your wrist as the door closed, hair mused by the late September wind. It was a comfort-from-home turned fashion statement, a way to stay close to your roots but show everyone at the office you were the type of girl that people saved on their "cool y2k outfit inspo" Pinterest boards. At least, girls back home would.

"How the hell did you move to a foreign country without learning the language?"

"Because I was supposed to be in PARIS, remember? I didn't minor in French just for mierde and giggles."

"Yeah, yeah, and then Paris decided to self destruct. I've heard the story. Just put me on speaker already."

Through the phone, Bryce's Spanish flows fluently as she instructs the driver to deliver you at your new place of work. Style Di Fortuna was one of the best styling firms in Europe, if not the world. Located a mere two streets from the Passeig De Gracia, there was nowhere better for a young woman to start her career in the fashion world. Except you weren't supposed to be here.

The plan had been perfect. After 4 years working your fingers bloody at UT Austin, you finally turned the bright orange tassel and accepted your B.A. in fashion. You were able to say "couture" with the perfect amount of phlegm to be taken seriously by the French snobs you had interned with, the ones who were supposed to be your colleagues after you graduated. The dreams of smoky cafes, bike rides through the city, and the lights of Paris fashion week were often the only things that helped you push through your professor telling you that you sewed like a blind sloth.

But then the French did what they do best: went on strike. For months. And after the long periods of no productivity and the destruction of half the inventory, you got the concise email that you would need to find employment elsewhere. About a week before you moved to France. So in a blind panic, you applied to every job you could think of within Europe, desperate to not have your first year post grad be spent at the soup kitchen or bagging groceries. You finally heard back from one of your contacts, another alumni from your school who said they could get you a job in Spain, but it was a little far from the type of fashion you wanted to do.

A "yes please I'm begging" email and 24 hours later, you had a job with SDF. Hey, fashion is fashion, and if you have to start by styling TikTokers in sparkly mini dresses before you could get to the good stuff, so be it. There were dues to be paid after all. So you grabbed your already packed bags and changed your ticket from Paris to Barcelona.

"I can speak Spanish. I lived in Texas for 21 years. Just not... Spain Spanish." You said quietly, rummaging through your bag for the ID that had been mailed to you the week prior.

"Right, and my white ass took it in school and he seemed to understand me just fine. So you, Miss Texican, need to stop with the perpetual fear that people will think you're stupid. Be confident and just speak. The company is Italian, anyways. Most of them will probably speak English, and if not, they'll think you're exotic and sexy."

"Mhm I'm sure."

"You're going to do great, okay? Just be yourself. You had like ten billion friends at home. It's almost impossible not to like you. You got it girl - go hook 'em."

Laughter bubbled out of you at her cheesy pep talk, feeling lighter already. She was right - even if you had gotten this job on the fly, your portfolio was super impressive, and people had no trouble liking you. So what was there to be worried about. After bidding her goodbye and having the courage to thank the driver in Spanish, you stepped out of the cab to the front steps of the new building. It was much taller than the surrounding, standing out like a sore thumb amongst the lower buildings and pale stone. Making your way up to the 16th floor, you were quickly ushered past bolts of bright fabric, racks of shoes worth millions, and some very stressed (yet very stylish) other employees.

"So excited that you're going to be joining our team! It is going to be so helpful having some international input to make sure we are not pigeon-holing our clients into fashion that is not received well globally. You will be reporting directly to Katerina, and she will report to me. Your colleagues are mostly male given the nature of the division. But Tania, Silvia, and Maria should be a good support as you move into the role. We also have Juliana who is between here and the Milan office. So it isn't a complete boy's club."

Huh?

After years in fashion, one thing you definitely knew was that it often was not a "boy's club". Sure, all the suits and big investors were often old and withered men, but most of the creative side of the business had been run by almost fully female teams (and the exceedingly rare stylish man).

"I'm sorry, the nature of the team? What do you mean?" You asked, trying to keep smiling while running after her towards a more and more barren part of the office.

"Sorry, was it not included in your offer letter? You're working in our athletics division. We are horribly understaffed in that department, especially now that we have taken on all the Adidas athletes in Spain. My word there are a lot of them. Bellingham alone needs three team members for every event."

No no no no no. This cannot be happening. You had come in prepared to style a lot of things: prom dresses, lingerie, even the scraps of fabrics that were rented out by the local burlesque show. But sports???

Now don't get it twisted, this isn't some "I'm a girl and I don't know anything about sports!" kind of thing. On the contrary. You were at every football game rocking the longhorns, cheering on your friends as they crushed it at basketball, and even tried watching a formula 1 race (there was a three car crash and you fainted) - you were totally hip with sports. Although you were not a fan of stretch materials or athleisure, you were willing to bite the bullet as a first step. The issue was the hidden undertones of your job. It was the fact that you would be working with, from what you could surmise, a lot of male athletes.

Bryce was right - it did feel like you had ten billion friends back home. Everywhere you went, you spoke to strangers with ease, and people warmed quickly, conversation flowing and bonds forming. But that's the issue: everyone seemed to warm to you, and so it meant a lot of male attention. And despite your best efforts, you always made a "too flirty" comment to someone's crush or "inappropriately smiling" at someone's boyfriend. And so as fast as they liked you, suddenly you were public enemy #1, and the drama became all-consuming.

No one seemed to understand. There was constant advice to just brush it off, to ignore the people who brought pain to your life. But you couldn't help it, laying in bed, stomach in knots, questioning why no one could see that you were just trying to be kind to everyone around you. The cycle of worrying had created a very isolating experience.

"Tania! Where are the other girls? I want to introduce you to the newest member of the team."

A girl with blown out black hair turns around, double nose piercings taking a back seat to a piercing charcoal stare. She was in high waisted jeans and a leopard print button up, the first two unbuttoned to show off the black strap of her bra. Her neck was adorned with a simple gold cross necklace, and she flashed a cordial smile as she stuck out a hand.

"I love your shoes." You said sweetly as you exchanged a shake, eager to make your first friend at work (and maybe in all of Spain).

"Oh, thank you. Dolce and Gabanna - they're friends of the firm. Your shoes are..." She gave a glance to the cowboy boots you had on, "muy naranja" (very orange).

You crossed your legs, self confidence waning after she addressed you like you had traffic cones on your legs. You were introduced to Silvia (a tall girl with short blonde hair and vintage Adidas Sambas paired with boxer shorts) and Maria (dark blue hair slicked back to show off her Italian football jersey). All of them oozed the coolest essence, and you were excited to get to know them.

"Alright, girls, not too much chattering. Barca arrives in 15 minutes, and there is not a single jersey in sight. Lets go! Rápidamente!"

A gasp spread across the room, accompanied with a groan from Roberto in the back, and there was suddenly a mad dash. Stretch fabrics in a hundred different colors were flying across the room, and it seemed like no one could move fast enough.

"I'm sorry to ask but... what is a barca?"

Silvia's sambas squeaked loudly as she came to a halt, whipping her neck towards you. Her eyebrows knitted together, looking at you like you had just said Jesus was a goat.

"Who is Barca? You cannot be serious. Please don't say anything like that when they walk in the door. Just stand out of the way and do some googling. We will fill you in when the team leaves."

You stepped back towards the mannequins, trying not get trampled by the other employees. A quick search on Instagram gave you the basics. Soccer (or well, football now) team that was super famous. SDF was tagged in their post from their TV series premier, so you came to the conclusion that they were long time clients. You were so consumed with your search that you didn't notice the gaggle of young men enter the constricted space until you heard a chorus of voices chant "Bon Dia, Pedri!"

You glance up, trying to see the man that the girls were addressing, but he was covered by a crowd, which was comprised of Tania, Silvia, and girls from the other departments of the building (you could have sworn that red head worked at the café in the lobby).

"Bon dia, ladies."

The giggles that came as response were far too exaggerated for just politeness, and before you could roll your eyes, you heard the gag from beside you and turned to who was ultimately Maria.

"Don't mind the girls. They aren't usually like this, but their brain turns to mush around the magician."

"The magician?"

Almost as if planned, the swarm of girls parted in that moment, a pair of sickly sweet molasses eyes meeting yours, holding your gaze in something that felt warm and almost intimate. His stubbled cheeks spread into an infectious smile, and suddenly a gorgeous man in a hideous pair of jeans was giving you a subtle wave across the room.

"Pedri "The Magician" Gonzalez, current reigning golden boy at FC Barcelona. Who knew God could pack so much talent and trouble into such a small package? Anyways, the other girls in the office are obsessed with him. They all think they're going to be the special little snowflake to pull him away from the line of Instagram models waiting to jump in bed."

As you listened intently to Maria's rant about the sports star, the two of you couldn't keep your eyes away. As Tania and Silvia went back and forth, talking his brain into oatmeal, he couldn't stop himself from asking, "Who is the new girl?"

~

Pedri Gonzalez was many things: a generational talent, a laid back 20 year old, and (though less known) a shit-stirrer. These monthly team visits to SDF ranked very highly on his list of favorite activities. He was able to sit with his teammates as they watched some of the hottest girls in Europe fall over themselves just for a kind word or a prolonged glance. He just wished the boys would have seen the way they moved when he came in for personal sessions whenever there was a new Adidas campaign. Not even the king was served so wonderfully.

As the team bus parked outside the building, he lazily draped one arm over Gavi's shoulders, ripping his attention away from his phone screen.

"You know she does have a life outside of answering your texts, Gavi."

There was no attempt to hide or deny, just a continued scowl coupled with scrunched brows.

"She was really weird during the drive home the other day. After Martin was a little bitch on the field, she hasn't been the same. I think there's something wrong, but I don't want to push her away. I just want her to be happy."

"Ay, you'll have lots of time to make her happy after you confess your undying love in her passenger seat and kill her boyfriend." Pedri quipped back, taking a few careful steps off the bus and rushing into the building, the squeals of his name from adoring fans fading into the background.

"Okay, maybe not the best idea I've ever had, but now you do have work with Adidas and Springfield and all the other brands that want a piece of Pedri Potter." The nickname earned Gavi a light smack on the back of the head. "So in the end, I did you a favor."

The boys make their way upstairs, greeted at the elevator by Pedri's fan club.

"Bon dia, ladies."

"Bon dia, Pedri. We missed you."

Gavi tried to tone down the look of confusion that painted his features, watching these two girls trail behind his teammate in a way that was anything but professional. But there was a natural air to Pedri that had women swooning whenever he uttered a sentence, so Gavi supposed this situation would be no different than the one he had seen before in the club, at the beach, in the grocery store - basically anywhere Pedri went. He said a silent thank you to the powers that be that their types were vastly different.

The girls vying for his attention were promptly shooed away, with only the two who were actually part of their styling team remaining. Pedri scanned the room, making a mental note of who he would be looking up on the SDF Instagram once he was done for the day. He was a humble young man, but he wasn't self depreciating. He knew the number of women that wanted him was rising into 6-figure range, and he was not one to deprive himself of a pleasure that wasn't closely regulated by the staff over at Camp Nou. He loved entertaining the occasional tryst with an influencer or model or bottle service girl - whoever caught his eye for the evening. The world was his field, and boy was he ready to sow.

His newest playthings were his regular stylists. Since he was going to be spending a lot more time at the firm, he decided to at least enjoy himself a little bit. He dropped casual compliments, noticed the changes they made to their appearance, let them talk his ears off about how well he did in the previous match. Whatever they wanted he would provide. Why not? He was young and single. If they were to delude themselves into thinking he was going to settle down and take a wife at this stage of his career, then really they had no one but themselves to blame.

Tania and Silvia were nothing if not wholly entertaining. They always bounced around the office together, blonde and black hair making them look like a salt and pepper shaker set. Today, they dedicated themselves to dressing Pedri in the vintage Barca jerseys that were being photographed, leaving the rest of the squad to be dealt with by Maria, Roberto, and the bright spot in the corner of the office that caught Pedri's eye.

"Who is the new girl?"

He knew the question was going to cause the bile to rise in the throats of the two girls in front of him, who were already milliseconds away from killing each other if it meant he would take the survivor to dinner. But there was something about the flash of color that had caught his eye, hair falling in front of a pretty face that was glued to a screen and trying to stay out of the way.

"What new girl?" The response came from Tania, the more jealous of the pair by a mile. Pedri had often caught her stalking his account, his brother's account, and the account of every girl DeuxMoi "spotted" him with during the international breaks.

"Her. In the corner. She's new, right? That's someone I would remember seeing." He raised his head to get a better look at her, taking in the tight shirt and bright colors, watching her jewelry sway along as Maria (his least favorite in the office by far) called her over to help dress the rest of the team. The girls whipped around, taking in the same view that Pedri was.

"La naranja?!" Tania asked, disgust evident in her louder-than-appropriate tone. At the use of what was quickly becoming your office nickname, you looked towards the sound of the commotion, seeing Pedri staring intently at you once again. And while the depth of his gaze threatened to ignite a warmth somewhere within your chest, it was Tania's furious expression that had your heart racing in fear. You hadn't even been at work for an hour - what could you have possible done to have invoked such a murderous glare?

"I didn't think foreign girls were your type." Silvia said, much calmer but tone still icy.

"Maybe I just like the color orange." He replied smoothly, whipping off his shirt to slip into the one from 1980 that he would be modeling for the Barca site. The sight of bare skin was enough to make his playthings forget their rage, being replaced by lustful stares and lingering touches as they "adjusted" the fabric over his pecs about 20 times over.

"I think orange is a hideous color on girls." Tania couldn't help but mutter and she fixed his collar, putting in a couple pins so it wouldn't move as he walked to the photographer.

"I think the ugliest color on a girl is jealousy green." Pedri's eyes met hers in a silent warning. She was officially nothing more than one of his stylists. He was a busy man, and the last thing he needed was for his distractions to become a new stressor. He was notorious for being quick to cut girls off for the most superficial reasons, and Tania was not eager to be one of those deprived of his affections. She smiled sweetly, biting the inside of her cheek.

"Oh, of course. Especially when there is obviously nothing to be jealous of. Go welcome her on her first day - if she can even understand a thing you're saying. I don't think the American school system teaches Canarian." She left Pedri in that moment, calling sweetly to Ferran to come get dressed.

"Ay, Gavi, I knew you were short, but they can't even find pants that fit you now?"

The sudden voice behind you made you jump, causing a yelp from Gavi, who had been stabbed with a stray pin due to your scare. Your head whipped around, meeting that same smile that was brighter up close.

"Perdon, Naranja. Didn't mean to startle you."

Your eyebrows came together, a small frown on your features.

"I don't know what Tania told you, but that's not my name."

"I didn't think it was, but it's quite fitting, don't you think? A cute nickname for a cute girl."

The complement caught you off guard, and your mouth dropped open, reply unable to form in your mind. Was he seriously flirting with you? After half the office just threw themselves at his feet?

"Thank you, but I would really prefer if you called me-"

"Your accent is strange. Where are you from?" Pedri cuts you off, giving you a once over and taking in your figure, focusing intently on the writing across your chest.

"Texas. Can't you read?" You asked, growing more annoyed by the minute. Maria would be back any second to grab the boy who you were hemming, now identified as Gavi. You weren't eager to be seen as a slacker on day damn one.

"Houston?" He asked, accent preventing him from getting the "S" in the word quite right. "My brother used to live there for a bit."

"San Antonio, actually. But I went to school in Austin." As desperately as you wanted to make a good impression on your first day, something inside your chest wanted to make a good impression on Pedri, who was listening intently to the mini tour of Texas you were giving him.

"Is that close to Dallas? We are meant to play a game there in the summer. Maybe you can come along, show me around your city." He punctuated his sentence with a wink. You wanted to speak, tell him that Austin was actually several hours from Dallas, San Antonio even further. But your heartbeat was in your ears, and you could do nothing but nod along.

Pedri was not much better off. He had spoken to some of the most gorgeous women in Europe, maybe even the world in his mere 22 years on the planet, but something about the way you looked at him while speaking, eyes locked onto his, made his heart race in a way that was foreign but not unenjoyable.

"Hey! Hurry up - they need Gavi next. Or are you incapable of putting in a couple pins?" It was Silvia barking down at you, causing you to tear your gaze away from Pedri and back to Gavi's leg. Thankfully, the boy was typing away and didn't notice the break you had taken to chat with his teammate. "Pedri, stop distracting la naranja with your flirting and go get a pair of shoes from Maria."

You burned with embarrassment, the nickname turning from something affectionate to something sour, used to remind you of your outsider status as 'Cinderella' was reminded of her place by the coals.

"I was just being friendly." Pedri said, standing to follow her instructions.

"I think you have enough friends in the office." She bites back, shoving him lightly towards the wall of sneakers.

Your cheeks burn, embarrassment causing your hands to tremble as you continue hemming the trousers in front of you. Maria had gone out of her way to warn you that Pedri was off limits, and yet here you were again: persona non grata with your coworkers because some boy had taken an interest in you.

"You speak really good Spanish for someone from America." A quiet voice said from above you. Looking up, Gavi was gazing down at you, distracted by his phone every few seconds.

"I'm half Mexican, and most people in Texas speak Spanish anyways." You reply, trying to tone down the annoyance in your tone.

"Oh, I didn't know that. My friend- eh, physiotherapist also studied in America. She has this really cute accent when she says some of her words now." You watched his eyes glaze over in a way they probably shouldn't if he was just talking about his doctor.

"You don't have to make conversation with me, you know." You mutter back, scared that maybe this player was Maria's and you would sever the final connection you had left in the office inadvertently.

"Oh. I didn't mean to annoy you." The tone in his voice and his crestfallen expression made you feel like you had just kicked a puppy.

"Oh no! You're not. I just... It seems like I just pissed off the girls by talking to Pedri, and I don't want to make any other mistakes."

He laughed, eyes crinkling and head tilting back. "Pedri is a special case. When you flirt with everything that moves, someone is bound to be upset eventually."

The admission caused a pit to form in your stomach. Everything that moves? The romantic heat you felt earlier cooled into a slimy, sickening emotion. What kind of person toyed with people's feelings for fun? As you entertained the thought, you tapped Gavi on the leg, instructing him to hop off the stand and go get photographed. A shadow loomed over your form as you tidied pins from the floor of the workroom.

"So, I believe you were about to give me your address before we were so rudely interrupted." It was Pedri, returning with a grin, standing coolly with his hands in the pockets of his cargos. "Of if that's too personal, I'll settle for a phone number. Or an Instagram handle - I'm not picky."

"I can tell." You muttered back, unease still sitting in your chest. You avoided his gaze, chewing nervously on your bottom lip and directing your eyes to anything but Pedri.

"I'm sorry about Silvia. She can be... intense. And let me just go ahead and apologize for Tania as well, in advance. They're weirdly possessive over me for some reason." Pedri sounded sincere, eyes doing their best to catch yours and convey his message.

"Don't worry about it. I can see why you're so popular." You shuffled to collect stray pins off the floor. Pedri was not like any other guy you had ever been attracted to. Usually they were tall, lanky frat boy types, all blue eyes and khaki shorts. But the combination of beautiful brown eyes brushed by dark hair, chiseled jaw and plump lips, and strong arms that lifted a mannequin out of your way did weird things to your heart and your stomach.

"Can you now?" He was smirking. You could practically hear it in his voice, the amusement dripping from every syllable. He was obviously completely unbothered by your clear signs of distress.

"Yeah. Every girl I ever knew wanted to be the sugar baby of an athlete. Watch out or you'll get your bank account drained." Despite your best efforts to come across as cutting and sharp, he laughed at the statement. A full head thrown back and hands on his belly type of laugh.

"It's been a long time since I've spoken to a girl as funny as you." His eyes held yours, and the look was so captivating you simply couldn't avert your gaze. In that moment, it was also lost on you that you had, in fact, only made one joke. You responded with a half smile and heat radiating from you.

"Hey listen, a couple of the boys and I are going out tonight. You should come with us."

The invitation started to knock some sense back into you. Out? As in out out? Back home, going out usually meant getting shit-faced and riding a mechanical bull. It wasn't the best look to pull up to work the following morning looking like death and smelling like tequila. You were already on the way to holding the record for the worst first day in history.

"I don't know... I think Tania would put Nair in my shampoo if we were seen together when not contractually obligated."

You looked up shyly, and a part of you waited for him to insist, to feel somewhat special.

"Ah, I won't make you do anything you're uncomfortable with. Just DM me on Instagram if you change your mind. I'm not hard to find."

"Do you answer DMs from every girl that finds you?" You asked, rocking back and forth on your heels.

"No. But I'll be looking out for yours."

Another voice called out to Pedri, and he left you standing there slack-jawed. Who was this man? And what was so special about you to have piqued his interest? You asked these same questions of Bryce, who was now fully awake.

"Girl, the answer is obvious." She said through face time, words garbled by her teeth-brushing.

"Please don't say-"

"You're hot."

"That. Bryce, these girls in the office, they're stunners. 10s across the board. If he was going for looks, he wouldn't be going for me."

"I think you're over-thinking this whole thing. He just wants to talk to you for now," She paused to spit, "So talk! What's the worst that could happen?"

A shrill voice cried out 'Naranja!' and the trill of your new unwelcome work nickname was the signal that your lunch was over. You trudged back into the office, abandoning the warmth and sunshine for the cold front put up by Tania and Silvia. They bumped you every time they walked past, making comments about your clothing, your hair, the speed of your work, your taste level - everything. You stuck close to Maria, getting only two smug "I told you so's" before it was back to business. The boys left a disaster in their wake, with jerseys, trousers, socks, shoes, and all manners of accessories scattered about the workroom. Maria exchange stories of her childhood in Rome for your escapades in San Antonio and Austin, and the day passed with relative ease. Katerina click-clacks into the room an hour before your sweet release, huddling together everyone who worked with the team for a summary of what was accomplished.

"Great job team. I think Barca will be very happy with the photos, which will make me very happy. Now," Katerina handed out a series of files to everyone in the circle. "As some of you know, we have been fighting tooth and nail against Fordham Fashions for the new Adidas Rising Stars contract. Well, we have finally won! Here are the clients that we will be working with closely for individual Adidas campaigns, collaborations, and so on."

Opening the file, a familiar face grinned back from the first page.

"Everyone already knows Pedri, so we will move past him. Now, let us begin the style briefing for Bellingham..."

You stared for another moment at the bright grin on the page before turning it to take notes on everything Katerina was saying. The meeting wrapped 30 minutes later, with one final request from the boss.

"The new Predator boots have just come in from Adidas. We will be sending a pair to each of our athletes to allow them to adjust before we style and shoot in the coming weeks. And to avoid another, ehem, hair pulling incident, the new girl will be sending Pedri's. Sort the rest out among yourselves. See you tomorrow!"

The glares burned your skin before you even had the chance to process that the 'new girl' in question was you. Everyone scurried to the wall of blue shoe boxes as you looked over the brief again to find the man of the hour's shoe size. Pulling it out of the pile, you moved to a far corner of the workroom, but that did not seem to stop Tania from coming your way.

"So, you think Pedri likes you?"

The statement caught you off guard, hands slowing and your eyes widening at your coworker.

"Excuse me?"

"You think that now he's going to date you just because he laughed at one of your jokes? Because trust me, you're not his type."

You were prepared to rebut, tell her that she had completely misunderstood the situation, and you were just being nice to a client. But it died on your lips as the meaning of her words washed over you like an icy tidal wave, leaving you to pathetically whisper out,

"Why not?"

Her laugh trickled out lightly, delicate and beautiful and cutting all at once.

"Just look at you, Naranja. Anyways, this is a note from the agency that needs to be included in Pedri's box, so slip it in there, 'kay? See you tomorrow!"

Swallowing thickly, you didn't watch her walk away, staring at the table top to stop the flood of emotions that was clogging your throat. You knew you weren't ugly. Quite the opposite actually. It usually only took a coy glance and the bat of an eyelash for you to have people eating from the palm of your hand. But the self doubt started to eat away at you. What was wrong with the way you looked?

And then your eyes focused on the crisp white envelope on the table. The girly scrawl of Pedri was too... romantic to be a formal note. The green slime of jealousy seeped through every one of your veins. You took a quick look around the room, and finding no one, you carefully opened the envelope. Immediately a strong perfume assaulted your senses. The letter was a quick confession of love, and you couldn't help the increase in your heart rate. If your coworker was determined to hate you, then you should at least give her a reason.

Your childish antics came two fold. First, you tiptoed over to the cabinet with the stationary, grabbing a blank envelope and some corrector fluid. You carefully removed Tania's name from the bottom of the letter, writing in a little "S" with a heart beside it. You refolded the letter and placed it into the new perfume-less envelope. The letter found its home in the shoe box, and on your way out of the building, you dropped it off at the mail room. As you waited for your cab home, you typed five familiar letters into the Instagram search bar, and sent a message asking,

"Am I still invited out tonight?"

~

Pedri could not contain the Cheshire cat grin that lit up his face when he saw the DM from you. Scrolling quickly through your Instagram, he zoomed in on your pictures from the summer, swimsuits the same bright orange that had hugged your chest earlier that day. He responded quickly, telling you that you would be the highlight of the entire outing, and as he predicted, your phone number quickly followed.

"See, Gavi? I told you." He turned the screen to his teammate, who could not possibly be less interested. Being met with silence, he quickly snatched Gavi's phone from his hands, eliciting a protest.

"Gavi, this is an intervention. You need to stop this sad puppy behavior. After the sixth unanswered text, it's time to accept that she's not going to respond."

Pedri almost regretted it as soon as he said it, the sunken look painting Gavi's features being too much to bear. It was like taking a baby's favorite toy away.

"I just mean that she's probably busy, hermano. She'll respond when she can. Now, back to me."

Gavi rolled his eyes and leaned back against Pedri's couch. He displayed his most exasperated expression.

"Please, Pedri. Tell me again how you got a girl to swoon for you in a matter of minutes. It's always my favorite story."

Gavi barely missed the pillow chucked at his head, but pressed on anyways.

"Come on, Pedri. It's the same story every week. Find a cute girl, flirt, invite her out, sleep with her, and then block her on all your socials."

"Okay but this one is different. She's my first American."

Gavi gave him a look that told Pedri that maybe the joke should have been reserved for Ferran. Despite all the wisdom Pedri had imparted, Gavi hadn't listened. Instead of taking advantage of the swarm of women ready to show him heaven, he had gone and fallen in love with one of his coworkers. Sheesh. What a stupid idea. But he had never seen Gavi, or anyone really, care so much about a person. So he was being a good friend, just pretending that this love story wouldn't go down in flames (badum-tsss).

Pedri was not willing to be a hopeless lover boy. He killed himself on the pitch, and there was no way he wasn't going to enjoy life after the whistle blew.

"I just don't think it's an idea to start involving girls you're going to have to see again."

The statement cut straight through Pedri's daydream of what you would wear to the club that evening. Gavi may have been right. When messing with Instagram models, it was easy to avoid previous flings. A block online, a slip of their photo to Camp Nou security, and worst case scenario, when they came up to him at an event, he just put on his best confused face and asked, "Do I know you?"

But this was new territory. He had toyed around with Tania and Silvia for months now, but it never left the office. Inviting a girl who he would have to see again and again for work out was risky. But the risk-assessing brain cells were on vacation. All that was left were the party neurons, the ones that craved dopamine and finding out what your skin would feel like against his palms. So he pushed all of Gavi's valid objections into a dark corner of his brain. He opted instead to ask,

"So, are you coming out tonight as well?"

Gavi lifted his hoodie up to cover his face, using all his self control to not grab his phone from its place on the coffee table.

"I don't think so. I'm not in the mood to see Ferran or... anyone really. Just want to sit home and watch my show."

"Suit yourself then. I'll let you know how the night ends."

"I'm begging you not to."

~

You smoothed your hands over your dress one final time. You were pacing around your living room, eagerly waiting for Pedri to pick you up. Despite your best efforts to assure him that you could Uber yourself to the club, he refused, and you couldn't help the giddy feeling at the gentlemanly antics.

Staring at yourself in the mirror once again, you thought of the dates you had been on in your senior year of college. From darties on frat lawns to drive-thrus to fine dining, many guys had tried to win your favor. It wasn't that all of them sucked (even if the majority did). It was just that the guys back home in America were... boring. All of them were pretty self centered and shallow, nice to look at but nothing deeper. While a pretty boy was nice at 19, it was time to grow up and look for something more.

The buzzing of your phone knocked you out of the trance you were in. "Pedri from work" illuminated the screen as you rushed to answer.

"I was going to come in and knock on your door, but I can't get into your building."

You laughed lightly in response, apologizing about the door code while grabbing a jacket and heading downstairs. A low whistle greeted you, dark eyes tracing your figure with a look that you tried not to interpret for your own sanity. A shy smile played across your features as you allowed Pedri to open your car door, sweet talk you throughout the drive, and escort you in to what was more of a lounge than a club. Live musicians played just loud enough for ambiance, but not enough to completely drown out everyone chattering amongst themselves. The two of you walked up to a table of Greek Gods, which you assumed were his teammates.

Pedri introduced you to the group, making sure that his body was physically situated between you and Ferran. He was a good guy somewhere deep, deep down, buried under the anguish of his last girlfriend, who left him upon finding out about the pay reduction that came with moving from Manchester City to FCB. Pedri tried to stop him from taking out his rage on a coworker (and Gavi's crush), but he was hard headed and couldn't be swayed. Eventually he would calm down, and they could go back to being young and single and not bitter. Pedri's phone glowed with a notification from the boy on his mind.

[Gaviiii]: dude i foujd her outside my house just sitting in her car n cryng so im gonna take care of that

[Gaviiii]: dont tect me or call me im not gonna answer

The typos were normal, as it was hard for Gavi to avert his eyes for even one second when his most precious was in sight. Pedri shook off the text and turned his attention back to you, arm coming to rest around your waist in what was meant to be a comforting gesture.

You were not comforted. On the contrary, you were on the verge of throwing up. You were one of only two girls in a circle of incredibly attractive men, the other being someone's wife. You couldn't remember the names of any of them, except for Ferran, who you had been specifically warned about on the drive over. The devil really is a charmer. His short cropped hair showed the angels of his face beautifully, long lashes fanning against his cheeks. A few tattoos peaked out from under rolled up sleeved, and you had to remember that you were with his friend on a... what was this exactly? Pedri had never said anything more than that he wanted to be friends. But he asked you to go out with him, picked you up, gave you the pre-date compliments, and now was shielding you from other men. Were you on a date?

You tried your best to participate in small talk, listening to them go back and forth about football and training and life in general. The various accent were not kind to your brain that was barely used to the Canarian lilt to Pedri's speech.

"Are you okay?"

The whisper came softly in your ear, hot breath against you skin causing an eruption of little bumps. Pedri's arm had not left your waist, but now he was rubbing delicate circles into your skin.

"I'm fine. Just... a little overwhelmed? I feel sort of out of place."

"Don't worry, linda. No one can take their eyes off you."

The affirmation only increased your heart rate once again, the thump against your chest beating in rhythm with the base from the speakers. You were acutely aware of the warmth of his palm against your skin, radiating through the fabric of your dress. You loosened up as the evening progressed, participating in the conversation more confidently and laughing more freely. Slowly, the boys excused themselves from the gathering one by one, and soon it was only you and Pedri in the low light, talking about the most beautiful scenery you have ever seen.

He was lost in describing his home island, the clear waters and lush foliage that he called home. You leaned forward, enraptured by the passion that he spoke with about the places and people he loved. Slowly, you found yourself getting closer and closer, until there was only a few inches of space between you. The gold flecks interspersed in dark brown became clearer, and you struggled to breathe as you watched Pedri's gaze drift to your lips.

"I am getting the impression you want me to kiss you. Please correct me if that's not the case." Pedri breathed out slowly, more strained than you had previously thought. You don't know what you were thinking. Maybe you weren't thinking. You just acted on what felt right. Closing the distance, you joined Pedri's lips to yours, arms around his neck as you kissed with a hunger borderline inappropriate for the public.

You weren't usually this person. It was usually a couple dates before you would allow for a goodnight kiss, let alone the almost make-out you were currently engaged in. You pulled away from Pedri, the heavy breathing a commonality between the two of you. Maybe it was the being in Spain. Maybe it was that he was hot and young and famous. Maybe it was that of all the girls throwing themselves at him, including your coworkers, he picked you after an hour of conversation. Something told you to take a chance on what could be your love at first sight moment. So when Pedri leaned close and asked,

"Do you want to go back to your place?"

There was no answer but yes.

~

The following morning was filled with bliss. Pedri had woken up just as the first rays of sunlight were painting the stone. He kissed you on the cheek, whispering something akin to "see you around" before he left to training. You floated through your morning, making a coffee in a daze and dressing with a permanent smile. Bryce was still fast asleep, so you left her about 30 minutes worth of voice messages before you had the guts to step out and hail your own cab to work.

You walked into the office still riding the high from the night before. Your skin was ablaze, and every time you thought of the "activities", heat spread through you rapidly. Luckily the November chill kept you from sweating through your bones. Your bliss lasted for most of the morning, as you worked with Maria and a couple of people you had never met to create a mood board for an upcoming photoshoot. As you flipped through paint swatches, a piercing scream split the air, causing you to drop to the ground and cover your head.

"Why are you on the floor, Naranja?"

One of the boys looked at you with raised eyebrows, and a part of your brain registered that your new work nickname had trickled into other departments.

"Oh, sorry. I went to high school in America. Screams like that meant someone was getting jumped. Or shot."

Another scream rippled through the hallway as Maria helped you up.

"That was Silvia. Given recent history, your prediction about her being attacked might be correct."

The both of you scurried down the hall, the clicks of the other department workers followed behind you, eager for the newest and juiciest chisme. The sight before you made you stop dead in your tracks. Roberto was holding Tania by the waist, apparently the only thing that was keeping her away from Silvia, who was on the other side of the room crying and grabbing her head. There was a trail of silver thread between the two hysterical women. No, not thread - hair.

"She cut my hair! She came up behind me and cut my hair!"

"She's a traitor and, more importantly, a whore! I should've slit her throat."

Katerina had finished ushering everyone who didn't work there out of the room, and now she was standing in the middle of the room ready to mediate.

"You two have 5 minutes to explain what the hell happened and why I shouldn't fire you."

Tania had calmed, no longer straining against an iron grip and gaze filled with slightly less murderous intent. She released the clump of hair that she had in her hand onto the floor, revealing the absolute carnage that had taken place. Safe to say Silvia was going to be rocking a pixie cut for the next few weeks. Both of the girls remained silent. The prisoner's dilemma in real time. Katerina clicked her tongue after the moment of silence and simply said, "Roberto."

You could swear you saw a smile on his face briefly before he cleared his throat and began.

"Tania gave the new girl a note with her phone number in it to send to Pedri. Pedri texts the phone number, but instead of addressing it correctly, he says-"

"HEY SILVIA. THIS MORNING HE TEXTS MY NUMBER WITH HER NAME." Tania's outburst had everyone stand up, fearing that she was going to lunge. She remained in place, but no one sat back down.

"So you decided to attack her because he can't tell you two apart?"

"She must have done something to my note. She-"

"No." Katerina interrupted. "I have hear enough. Both of you are no longer working on any project Pedro Gonzalez is involved in."

Protests came from both of the girls, suddenly sullen and docile. They began to plead to be punished with anything else, but not exile from their favorite footballer. As they whimpered to your boss, who reminded them they were lucky to still be employed, it dawned on you. This morning. He texted who he thought was Silvia this morning. In response to a flirty message. After he left your bed. Maybe before he had even left the apartment.

There it was again. The nausea. The urge to projectile vomit. All because of Pedro Gonzalez. Fuck a nickname. He was a rich fuckboy that had played you like a fiddle. You held the tears back as you went back to fabric swatches, taking a moment to block him on Instagram.

"So, how does it feel to be Pedri's personal stylist now?" Katerina startled you, and the shock caused a delay in processing what she had just said.

"His what?"

"Well, now that those two are not allowed to be within 50 meters of him, it's only you and Maria working the Adidas contract. Especially now that Roberto is part of the Olympics team. So you get Pedri, and she gets Bellingham. Perfect, no?"

You nodded, swallowing hard to push the bile back down. This very unfortunate one night stand maybe have been the worst idea you have ever had. You walked through the rest of the day with disgust and rage flowing through you. You decided to brave the cold of the November afternoon and walk home, stopping by a bakery to get something with chocolate to keep the tidal wave of intense depression at bay.

How could this be happening? You weren't this girl. You weren't someone who let yourself be gullible and played. Hell, you had gone the last four years with all of Texas and parts of Mexico vying for your affection. But this little Spanish boy took advantage of the connection you felt, and he had barely left your bed before starting to text your coworker. Your phone buzzed with several messages in rapid succession.

[Pedro Gonzalez]: My agent just told me you were my own personal stylist

[Pedro Gonzalez]: that's good to hear.

[Pedro Gonzalez]: At least I'll have a friend at all these long and boring photoshoots

No mention of the night before. No "I had a good time". No question about your wellbeing. Nothing except his own self interest. How the situation would be good for him. Again. You felt awful as you pushed a teenage boy out of the way, barely making it into the bathroom before throwing your guts up. What the hell. How did you manage to fuck up so poorly so quickly? It was day damn one. And now you were throwing up in a bakery bathroom in Spain because of a man that's 5'9". You sat at a table, cake and coffee cooling in front of you. You didn't trust your legs or your stomach just yet, so you decided to type out a response instead.

Pedri was in overall low spirits. His injury had had another flare up, causing him to limp to the locker room. The email from his agent brightened his day, as he saw your name in the email. He shot a quick text your way, excited at the prospect of seeing you again, only to sour at the response.

[Naranja]: dont speak to me pedro

[Naranja]: we are not friends

[Naranja]: and we never will be

[You can no longer send messages to this user]

~~~

A/N: Here it is! The first part of the new series! Just some preemptive answers: I don't know what my posting schedule will look like and idk how many parts it's going to be. I hope you enjoy this first part. It might be a little rushed because I just wanted to set up the main story. Please let me know your thoughts in comments and asks! I'll try to reply to as many as I can. I love you all <3

Palestine: I will try to donate $1 for every comment that has a watermelon or an olive in it. I will keep y'all updated with how it goes.

Here are some more links to please please please look at while you're here.

Care for Gaza: an org that has been getting help and aid to people on the ground -> https://www.gofundme.com/f/careforgaza

Daily click that donates money to help Palestinians -> https://arab.org/click-to-help/palestine/

[caribbean1989]

Stage Fright - a Baby Lasagna fanfiction

Who: Marko Purisic / Baby Lasagna Request: maybe smt where you work for esc and marko has a panic attack before going on the stage and your there for him calming him down and stuff. just angsty with lots of comfort. Requested by: anonymous. Word count: 2010 Warnings: contains descriptions of panic attack / anxiety / stage fright. Lots of angst, but also some comfort 😇

A/N: I usually write footballer imagines and fandom whump, so writing something like this is quite new to me. Hope you'll like it, let me know what you think of it 😇 If you want me to write more like this, you can always make a request through my Asks 😉

This story can also be found on my AO3 account, here. For more information on my Baby Lasagna fanfics, see this masterpost.

At your job working backstage at concerts and events, you were one of the people making sure everything went smoothly backstage, and that the performers had all they needed. This month you would be working at the Eurovision Song Contest. 

Today was the biggest day of all: the final.  You felt confident. Everything had been rehearsed endlessly, the semi-finals had already gone well, and you had built up a good relationship with most of the performers and their entourages. 

It was a nice group of artists this year, but one still was your personal favourite: Baby Lasagna. At first you were drawn to the Croatian candidate because of the rather unusual name, but you quickly learned he went by Marko off-stage, and was somewhat different from the other participants. He was a flamboyant personality on-stage, which proved to be the complete opposite of how his personality was off-stage. 

You didn’t need long to see Marko was actually rather shy, could be very insecure, and was humble and polite. There was a cheeky side to him as well once you got to know him better. You liked that about him, and, without actively trying to, you already formed a rather close friendship with him in only this short time of working together. 

That was why you immediately knew something was wrong when you found Marko sitting alone on the day of the final, huddled away from everything and everyone.  He sat amongst crates of sound equipment, on the floor, in a dark corner of the backstage maze, hugging his knees. His hands were clamped so tightly around his legs that his fingers had turned white, and he trembled like a leaf in the wind.  Marko had chosen a spot far from the foot traffic from and to the stage, hidden even from his own entourage, and it was a small miracle that you stumbled upon him like you had. 

"Marko?" You lowered yourself onto your haunches in front of him, but mindful to keep enough distance between yourselves so not to frighten him or make him feel more uncomfortable.

He looked disheveled, only vaguely aware of his surroundings, and surely not in control of his emotions.  In this moment he was not the extroverted Baby Lasagna, he was introverted Marko. The eccentric costume he wore on stage was replaced by regular jeans and a black hoodie. The make-up wasn’t applied yet, which might be a good thing, because you saw the tears on his face. The haunted look in his eyes scared you, worrying you even more about his well-being. 

Suddenly your mind went to a line from the song he was performing with here this week. 

My anxiety attacks.

Whilst Rim Tim Tagi Dim had people dancing all over the world, you couldn’t help but notice its darker meaning, too. And it clicked into place for you now. That line about anxiety wasn’t just a line. It actually held truth for Marko, and the proof of that was right in front of your eyes with him having a serious panic attack. 

"Marko?" You repeated softly.  His gaze flickered to you, but he didn’t acknowledge your presence in any other way.  "I need you to talk to me," you nudged carefully.  Marko swallowed hard. He made every effort to get himself to speak, but couldn’t. The words he meant to say got involuntarily silenced on their way to his mouth, and, finally, he just sadly shook his head. Fresh tears fell as he rested his forehead on his knees, shrinking even more into himself. 

Your heart broke for him. It was hard to believe you only met him a week and a half ago, with how much you already cared for him. 

Marko shivered in his hoodie. His breaths became even more rapid and shallow, accompanied by the occasional wheeze or whimper. He was losing more and more control over himself with every heartbeat of his racing pulse. Where first maybe only his hands had shook, there now wasn’t a muscle in his body that wasn’t shaking. He raised his head and looked up at you again, this time really seeing you. 

Marko’s lower lip trembled, and it took effort, but finally he got some words out. "Help me…" "I’m trying," you answered helplessly. You wanted nothing more than to help him, take him out of this panic attack, but you really had no idea where to begin. "Do you need me to bring someone from your team over?" "No!" Marko nearly jumped a foot into the air at the mere idea of that. "They don’t need to see me like this. I’m a mess, I…" "Calm down, calm down," you tried to ease. "We can do this. You and I, we can get you through this."

Having suffered from panic attacks yourself, you suddenly remembered what your sister used to do for you to get you to calm down. "Marko." You got his attention. "I want to try something to help you calm down. Are you okay with me touching you?" He still was in the height of his panic attack, with fear wild in his eyes, but he still nodded his head. He wasn’t sure what you had in mind, but he trusted you.

You scooted closer to him, fully sitting down on the floor by his side. Marko trembled heavier than ever and he was truly hyperventilating now. Tears sparkled in his eyes, but he gave in to you. He wanted for you to offer comfort and take him out of this anxiety. 

"Close your eyes," you said softly.  Marko hesitated for just a second, but slowly closed his eyes. He didn’t know you for that long, yet you felt secure and safe to him. "Whenever you’re no longer comfortable with anything I’m doing, you need to tell me," you insisted, "and I’ll stop immediately." Marko gave you a strained nod, but he surrendered to you. 

You moved slowly, making sure not to make any unexpected movements which would cause Marko any more fright.  You placed one of your hands flat on his chest. Only now you realised how heavy this panic attack actually was for him. His chest heaved and trembled under your hand, and now that you were closer to him, you heard the whimpers that were hidden in the wheezes of his breathing.  With your other hand you picked up his wrist, gently pressing two fingers against the pulse point. As you had expected, his heart was racing. 

"I need you to focus on my hand on your chest." You kept your voice as calm and serene as possible. Marko dipped his head once, eyes still firmly pressed shut.  "Whenever I press into your chest, I need you to breathe in through your nose, and try and press my hand away with your chest," you instructed, "when I release the pressure, you exhale slowly through your mouth." Marko wanted to speak, show you he had understood, but he found his words once again stolen from him by the panic attack. Instead, he dipped his head once again, but it was all the confirmation you needed. 

You slowly and gently pressed the palm of your hand a little firmer into his chest.  Marko took a shaky breath. He did his best to get his lungs to fill properly and get his chest to give counter-pressure against your hand, but couldn’t quite manage.  "It’s alright," you eased him, "take your time. Just focus on the rhythm of the pressure of my hand and try to breathe with that." You felt how Marko was really trying to, but also how he wasn’t succeeding yet. His inhales were broken by shudders, and his exhales disrupted by sudden and involuntary gulps.  "That’s it," you encouraged anyway, "easy does it."

Your hand never left his chest as you gently applied pressure and released it, with Marko doing his utmost best to get his breathing to fall in sync with it. You spoke soft encouragements, yet the silent moments in between were filled with Marko’s quiet whimpers.  It didn’t matter to you how long it would take, you would help Marko through this. 

---

Eventually, you sat with Marko like that for well over 30 minutes. There was no reason to rush anything. Soundchecks for the grand finale of tonight wouldn’t be starting for another few hours, so you gave him all the time he needed to pull himself out of this panic attack.

Marko’s pulse had returned to a regular, calm rhythm, as had his breathing. His trembling had subsided, but he sat beside you looking worn out from everything he had just gone through. 

You gently let your hand fall away from Marko’s chest for the first time again. You kept a close eye on him, but he was able to keep his breaths calm by himself now. "Open your eyes," you said softly. Marko slowly did so. Even though the area where you sat was dimly lit, he still squinted at the light. He ran slightly trembling fingers through his silvery hair, before he finally looked up at you sitting next to him. 

"I’m sorry about that." Marko sounded tired. "No need to apologise." You shook your head. "May I ask what happened?" "This happened." Marko chuckled wryly, motioning his hands to the area around you. "I’ve never performed at an event of this magnitude before. And… well, my stage fright took the better of me, I guess. It does that sometimes."

The airiness with which he spoke of his stage fright was pitiful, almost like it was the most common thing in the world for him. "But it doesn’t often get this bad, I reckon," you said sympathetically.  "No." Marko sighed heavily, running his fingers through his hair once more. "It doesn’t usually lead to a full-blown panic attack, and certainly not like this one, but, apparently, big stages lead to big anxiety." A dark chuckle followed. "That’s not even remotely funny," you scoffed. Marko gave a one-shouldered shrug. "I’m used to it by now."

He shifted his body, grunting softly as he stretched his cramped legs out in front of him. He leaned his head back against one of the crates behind him and glanced up at the ceiling for a moment. 

"But what you did really helped me." He spoke after a few seconds of silence. "I’m not quite sure I would have gotten through this one on my own, so I’m really grateful." You shrugged. "I’ve got a bit of experience with panic attacks as well, I’m afraid. So I know how bad they can get."

Marko’s gaze slowly shifted back to you. "Yourself or helping someone deal with it?" "Myself, unfortunately." You sat back into a more comfortable position, too. "Some events in life leave more scars than you can imagine," you added darkly.  "I’m sorry." Marko shortly rested a hand on your arm in support.  "What I just did with you, my sister used to do that for me whenever my anxiety flared up," you explained, "it always helped me through it, so…" You let your voice trail off.  "Well, tell her it’s a good technique." Marko winked lazily. "And I’m glad you’re the one who found me just now. Thank you." The sincere thankfulness was in his voice and in every fibre of his being. 

The two of you talked for a while longer, before Marko slowly hoisted himself back onto his feet. He looked steady again, ready to go, and a glimpse of the extroverted Baby Lasagna shone through the cracks again. 

"Will you be alright?" You stood back up, too.  "Yes." Marko nodded confidently. "I know it sounds strange, especially after what you’ve seen just now, but it feels like I needed to get this out of my system in order to be ready for tonight." You chuckled, glad to see the sparkle of joy back in his eyes, instead of the sparkle of tears and panic. "Come see me if anything threatens to overwhelm you again." Marko nodded gratefully. "I sure will."

[hpowellsmith]

Do you think a degree is a good place to start to get into the narrative designer scene? I don't have any sort of degrees and whenever I look at job postings it kind of intimidates me.

You don't necessarily need a game design degree. There isn't a single route into getting a narrative design job and most of the narrative people I've worked with have academic experience in other areas. Classics, publishing, linguistics, screenwriting (and other kinds of writing), film, literature, teaching, computer science, biomedical science, history, and philosophy are all things that come to mind off the top of my head. I personally have an English Literature bachelor's degree and a postgrad teaching certificate.

I do know a few narrative people with game design degrees and they speak highly of that experience - but it isn't essential and there's some ambivalence in the field of games about how much value you get from it. It would really depend on where you were attending and who was teaching it, and so on. Do research the lecturers and their industry experience before signing up to anything!

A lot of narrative jobs will require some sort of degree. Not all! But many will explicitly. Then, more trickily, there's the implicitness of it all: it's rare that I've encountered a narrative person at a studio who doesn't have a degree, and among many other things that's a marker of the lack of class diversity in the field.

That said: a degree is unlikely to directly help you get a narrative job unless it's very specific (eg you're an expert in the Franklin expedition, and the game is about trying to rescue the ships). It will more give you transferable skills. My PGCE helped me learn to deliver presentations and pitches. My English degree helped me discuss art. My PGCE taught me about being rigorous about developing skills and assessing where I'm at and taking feedback. My English degree pushed me to read widely. But none of that fed directly into getting a job in games - when I graduated from my undergrad degree I didn't know how games jobs worked anyway and neither did my career advisors.

Whether or not you have a degree, you need to have examples of your skills and how you've applied them to your work. If you've had jobs in other areas, you can refer to that - you're great at spotting data entry errors? fantastic. you can meditate an argument between a group of crying five year olds? great. And most of all you need completed examples of your writing and your games work for your portfolio. It doesn't have to be massive ambitious projects, but you need to prove that you know how games fit together, what makes them feel good or not good to play, and can apply it to your own work.

Make interactive fiction. Make a small game, or a bigger game, in bitsy. Join a game jam and work with other people on something - that will give you something to talk about in interviews, and teach you about working with other people on a creative project. Finish things! Not only will that give you more to discuss, it will also mean that you have a better sense of the bigger picture of interactive storytelling. I got my first studio job off the back of years of short hobby IF and a completed CoG game; I brought skills from my studies but I wouldn't have got a foot in the door without those projects to show that I could write well, understood narrative design, and could finish games.

Some unsolicited advice:

Be cautious about expensive game writing courses. They can be valuable for networking and pushing your to be rigorous about your work, or they can be a money sink. Remember that in 99% of "dream studios" there will be people working there for whom it's a nightmare. Don't put people on pedestals and remember that studio games are a team effort - but also respect and celebrate your own contributions. Don't dunk on games in public: I've seen a lot of people do that and then turn around and ask for a job from the people they were dunking on. It doesn't make people inclined to say yes. Don't neglect your peers in favour of trying to get in with a crowd that's already established; but if trusted people offer mentorship (such as Limit Break in the UK) go for it. When you are one of those established people, don't pull up the ladder behind you.

Here is a doc of resources from Raymond Vermeulen and another from Adanna aka AFNarratives. Also there are a ton of free talks available from AdventureX, Narrascope, Writer's Guild of Great Britain, and the GDC Vault about narrative which are both interesting and useful.

None of this is any guarantee of anything, there are a lot of people competing for not many jobs and if you find someone selling One Weird Trick to get into the field of narrative design, avoid them. I've seen talented people with a lot of experience struggling to find another contract after one has ended. So I don't want to act like I have it all figured out - but I hope it's helpful.

[sch-com]

Specific manifestations of anankastic / obsessive-compulsive PD in my life

see similar post for schizoid PD

When I first heard of my personality disorders, it was hard for me to notice their role in my life. Part of it was that I was younger, and with less experiences, but part of it was that by nature PDs are so ingrained it's hard to see the full scope of their influence. Particularly I struggled to see the "dysfunction" part - I was thinking that sure, I do experience that, but is it really that bad? And you can't have a PD without the dysfunction, so do I even count? I think that now, after some time and more reflections, I can say I do see the dysfunction, so I thought to share my observations.

Disclaimer: I am going to combine DSM V and ICD10 criteria, and omit those that do not apply to me

Using DSM V + ICD10 criteria for OCPD that are relevant to me:

1/ A preoccupation with order and details that results in the person missing the point of an activity / Perfectionism that hinders the completion of tasks

This manifests in a very classic way for me. I get overfocused on aligning shapes in my presentations instead of focusing on, well, the goal of the presentation. I get fixated on trying to undestand everything in my classes/courses - instead of seeing what the entire course is trying to teach me, I get anxious and feel like a failure for not understaning one concept. It prevents me from moving on and trusting the process.

A big one that deserves it's own point is when I am organising things. I organise everything in my life, and I get into those organisation obsessions. When I am in one, it's all I can think of. How to put those notes in order, where to put this thing, how to create a system that makes perfect sense. Instead of recognising that the organisation part is supposed to help me with the things I am trying to organise, I get obsessed with the details of the organisation system itself.

2/ Undue preoccupation with productivity to the exclusion of pleasure and interpersonal relationships to an extent that is excessive and not explained by economic needs

Very much connected to 3/ for me, more on that there.

When I was still in school, the feeling of obligation was overwhelming. I can't quite even find the words to describe the extent of this feeling. I neglected everything, literally everything to do schoolwork. Sleep, relationships, family, my health, just because I felt this enormous pressure that Have To. I refused to meet with friends, or to watch movies with family, or to do anything fun, or to even go to the doctors because I had homwork, or an exam. And I know everyone does that from time to time, but the frequency and intensity is what made it dysfunctional. Also, as it turns out, it only caused me more harm than good - me getting a good grade 5 years ago absolutely doesn't mean anything anymore now. And me not making any long-lasting relationships? Absolutely does affect me to this day. My priorities were not serving me.

Now I don't have this singular intense big obligation that school was for me, but I still am rather obsessive about trying to gain skills that would make me employable / not useless. Granted, I am failing miserably at that, but it is my main focus. And I still neglect other things and relationships because of work or some other task I deemed an Obligation. I literally work full-time and then study part-time on the weekeds, I don't think I would do that if I cared about friendships or fun...

I can't allow myself to do anything fun / think about anything else when I have an Obligation planned. And it doesn't have to be anything big - even when I Have To buy someone a gift, I will not fully relax as long as I fulfill the obligation. Which is stupid, because there are always things to be done, so I am permanently stuck in this.

And all of the above is so irrational... Like I come from a relatively well-off family. I have had a full time job for a year now, with permanent contract. And yet, I still feel this sense of Danger and that I Have To do all the things, like work and studying, to make sure I don't die (it feels like I will die if I stop).

3/ Reluctance to spend money on oneself or others and a belief that money should be hoarded for emergencies

The motivation for all from point 2/ always has been fear of spending money, fear of being useless, fear of not having the skills for people to employ me and ultimately fear of ending up homeless. I was thinking of this even when I was like 13yo learning geography. I don't know how normal that is. So, I have always saved up as much as I can, to have the money when something bad happens. I am saying when, and not if, because it feels inevitable.

Everything costs money, and when I am afraid of spending it it affects so many aspects of life. I don't go to fun events for which you have to pay. I feel bad going out for dinner with friends, so I isolate instead. I don't buy clothes unless the ones I have are absolutely unwearable. I postpone going to the doctors, or getting tests done when I have to pay. I feel bad even bying basic groceries.

This is a big factor contributning of me not going to therapy, because it's expensive.

I also feel even more guilty when other people spend money on me. Like, I absolutely don't have to work actually, my parents could pay for my university. But it feels too wrong. I can't. I physically can't allow them to.

4/ Reluctance to delegate tasks to or work with others unless things are done his or her way

Pretty related to 1/. Other people just don't care about the details, or doing things right as much as I do (which actually, good for them because I am the one in the wrong, but I can't help it). I hated group assignments in school because of this. And then I would put too much effort into a stupid project that ultimately meant nothing, and so the cycle continues.

On the flip side, it makes me refrain from tasks, jobs or even basic activities which involve other people, because I know I will suffer with trying to ignore the "imperfections", or they will suffer if I nag them about them. So it may be limiting in terms of what I take on. Like not choosing work that I would maybe like / benefit from because it involves groupwork. And let's be honest, in today's complicated world there aren't many things you can do completely alone. All big, important projects involve cooperation.

5/ Excessive conscientiousness and infexibility related to morality or values (not explained by one's culture or religion)

The main value I hold in my life is to cause as little harm as possible. And you know what is the easiest way to cause as little harm as possible? To do as little as possible. I try to not consume much. I isolate because I don't want to hurt anyone with my broken brain. I chose the line of work and study not because I truly want to do them, but because they are viewed as more useful/benefitial than what maybe I would have chosen otherwise. I don't want to be a waste, and a burden.

I also hold some other tangentially related philosophical beliefs, that most likely don't serve me, but they feel too right for me at the moment. To name a few: antinatalism, nihilism, atheism, pessimism (in the philosophical sense). I like to think I could become convinced otherwise, but that I just haven't heard good counterarguments, but I don't know. Some poeple have said to me that I am just stubborn and refuse to listen, so maybe it is my infexlibility and not the weakness of the arguments.

6/ Feelings of excessive doubt and caution

The thing that have defined my life since I can remember is this feeling that the world is a dangerous place. That I am unwanted here and that I have to prove that I deserve to stay. That I have to make the right choices, and be cautious to avoid pain.

It's hard to find specific examples, because it's something so ingrained I can't imagine how I would act otherwise? But even such things as avoiding going out at dark (impossible to do 100% of the time) that made me miss out on fun or important things. I never trust people fully, especially that they will fulfill their obligations to me. I never trust myself - that I deserve to be where I am, and I always feel at danger of getting kicked out of places. I don't trust strangers on the streets to even not attack me, even though it never happened? I could go on and on. I just have this feeling that I always have to watch myself, and my steps, and to prepare for the worst always.

7/ Intrusion of insistent and unwelcome thoughts or impulses

Probably a lot is covered in 6/ as well

I want to also mention my bfrb - skin picking. It's embarrasing to be honest. I pick everywhere, but especially on my shoulders to the point I look like I was burned. I like doing it, but I guess it is unwanted in the sense that I wish I didn't? I don't know, it's complicated.

I would also classify my obsessive need for organisation here. Like sometimes I wish I could just do something, instead of having this need to organise and plan everything neatly first.

For thoughts, it's pretty standard talk of not being enough, of not working hard enough, of comparing myself to others. I recently also started having flashbacks to random memories. I don't particularly want to think about the past anymore, and I wish they would stop.

I also get some thoughts that are like what many people think is going on in OCD - I get anxious about not locking the door, not turining off the oven, stuff like that. I do occasionally have to go back and check to calm myself, and even after I do I still think "but what if I didn't???". A big and constant one is thinking I lost/forgot my keys, wallet and phone all the time even though I am literally touching them in my pocket lmao. I don't think it's to the extent of a person with OCD though.

Fighting all of that just takes a lot of brainpower in my day-to-day, and that is pretty distressing itself because then I will spend my brainpower on thinking about how much brainpower I am using on those things? Ridiculous cirular thinking, that I am also experiencing in other aspects, but this post is long as it is.

[violueta]

who else ready to YAP! hihi i go by a ton of aliases and forgot which one i applied with my bad but im mika and im here with jangmi, a brand new muse that i cant wait to develop with u all :D just drop a like and i'll send u a dm to get plotting :3 (my about section for her is coming soon..a lil busy atm T^T)

just some ooc info before i go on a massive ramble about her, im currently a full time student dealing with end of semester assignment rush and exams so excuse me if replies are sporadic..if i ever take over 24 hours please just bump me or something... im also really new to tumblr so..excuse any mistakes :3

sry 4 this i wrote it out n im too lazy to proofread

BACKGROUND

lee jangmi, born 3003 to a middle class family, being her parent's little girl who got spoiled beyond belief. the amount of stress her parents went through to have her made them treasure her greatly, always making sure she was always happy.

family life was good! family life was happy! until both her parents lost their jobs due to sizing down, leaving the family with a complete lack of income. her father found a job rather quickly but it paid significantly less than what they originally had and they were still relying on one income so things were a bit tight. jangmi was blissfully unaware of this fact at the bright young age of one, her parents always putting on their happiest faces to their daughter and still going out of their way to give her a wonderful childhood. with the help of her maternal grandmother, jangmi was raised in the most loving household a girl could ask for.

however, this lack of money was catching up as her mother fell behind in terms of systems, her father needing added packages and upgrades to work but not being able to afford any for his wife. this meant that her family had fallen to a socioeconomic status that terrascape paid less care to. one day jangmi's mother dropped her off at her grandmother's so that she could spend the day trying to find a job, as she had been doing for around three years at this point. that night, her mother never picked her up and her father called up, wondering if she was with jangmi.

she was not.

after a week or so, jangmi's father had accepted that his wife was gone. unable to deal with life without the woman he loved and a daughter that was constantly distressed with the lack of her mother, he gave jangmi to her grandmother and disconnected from terra to search for his wife, knowing she might've left him but she would've never left jangmi.

so from the age of four, jangmi was raised by her grandparents and their elderly neighbours and they raised her just as she was used to, loving and a little bit spoiled. being raised in such a good for environment, the girl is quite unaware of the bad side of the world; she thinks that terra truly is paradise where everyone is always happy and thriving, simply because that's how she and the people she's aurrounded herself with have done in life.

well, she tries to think that way at least. having her parents leave with the only explaination of 'they went on an adventure!' even at the age of 20 has her craving to know more, has her wanting to figure out what happened with her parents. once she hit her teens and started actively staying awake at night, she discovered a glitch in which the entire server just frozen in time? she's never actively done anything during this hour as the idea of fucking up something scares her greatly but, she's always blamed that glitch on the reason why her parents are gone.

for now she prefers living in ignorant bliss, treating terra the way that terrascape wants her to, as a modern day garden of eden which, it kind of is considring how lucky she's been in life. maybe her ignorance is just to avoid losing her lifestyle of living upper middle class, knowing the place is a lot darker than she puts on. even after bae gyuok, she chooses to ignore this massive event, acting as if nothing has happened in the first place. (although, in her own time she's trying to figure things out but, she isn't getting very far)

PERSONALITY

she's soft spoken and gentle, often just going along with the crowd and trying her best to fit in as she would rather die than ever be seen as different. she puts herself out as confident yet not cocky, extroverted but not loud; a perfect personality that will have people love her, just as she's always been loved by those around her. though her gentle nature and willingness to go along with people is natural, she's hardly the social creature she seems to be, preferring a night in with her grandparents and their dog watching old movies. she lacks her own perception of self as a consequence for trying so hard to fit in and she sometimes gets jealous of others who are more willing to be themselves, arguing with people who disagree with her out of sadness, not anger. she can let herself get carried away when spurred on and can be quite reactive at times, a reason why she surrounds herself with people so similar to her; she can keep her image.

WANTED CONNECTIONS

u see i kinda suck at these? i like coming up with plots with specific characters in mind BUTT!! here's some vague ideas.

friends, ex-crushes, aquaintances, neighbours, all that stuff. maybe someone who she finally expresses her worries to? like late night talks about terra and how theyre realising the system seems a lil..Off..

IDK! im okay with anything :D just (as i said before) give this a like or send a dm to me first if ur in the mood to plot with her! i can use dc if it's easier :3

[techno-danger]

*ummm... I saw your tag and the comment and I hope you're at a safe place now. I hope it's not too much. I apologize if this reopens old wound.*

Hey, thanks so much for the concern. I'm completely fine to talk about being kicked out. It helped me leave my toxic situation all that much easier.

Thankfully my Nana let me move in with her the same day so I'm grateful i never ended up on the streets cause that's exactly where I would've been without the help and support I have now. I've got my own increased disability pension, my support worker who's helped me since I graduated high school 3 years ago has been there for me every new milestone I achieve and even helped me get my birth certificate, id's and other important stuff of mine back. I managed to have my first paying job last year at Christmas and my old boss even asked if I wanted to come back again this year! (I am btw, gonna be taking ALL the selfies with Santa :D). I've been applying for jobs about every week but nothing has gone through yet (you would not BELIEVE how many big companies have switched over to AI Interviews its been A NIGHTMARE-) however I'll be going back to Tafe (tertiary education) to get cert 3 in Child Care and see where that might take me, hopefully down a similar line as my support worker, he's helped change my life so much and is one of my biggest heroes. In fact we're even going to Melbourne next week for the PAX convention and he's been helping get our cosplays ready (Going as Verosika Mayday and Stolas from Helluva Boss).

All this compared to when I was practically an unpaid maid in my own home and was literally told often that I don't deserve my own opinion since I was acting "childish" and "disrespectful". That the reason I was suicidal and depressed was because I was "too lazy" to do my chores when I was told to. That if I brought in the washing creased or didnt cook a UNIQUE dinner every night or forgot to wash the dishes afterwards, I hadn't earned the right to eat breakfast the next day. Heck, if I hadn't done some of my chores (cause I was literally out of the house around 9 hours a day studying for a course I BEGGED to quit), like if the clothes got creased in the basket from when my parent left them for WEEKS in their room or vacuum the floor of the entire house, I would have to pay them a "Maid Tax" of $30 (AUD) for every chore of that they did. Oh and I also didn't have any kind of allowance growing up, just a centrelink pension of about $500 a fortnight that I had no control over.

This is all stuff I had to deal with since I was about 11, and I had a lot of other trauma from my other parent when I was younger, as well as other stuff I don't want to mention. I know there are worse things people can go through but I hope no kids get stuck in the same situation I was. No one deserves to feel like they earn the right to just exist in the world. Just because they're acting like a child having a temper tantrum doesn't excuse you having to be the adult in the relationship. I'm 21 in 2 months and I've had to be way more mature than the rest of my family who are in their 60's and 70's (who KNEW how my parent treated me) just so I could mentally survive. Even if they hadn't laid hands on me for a long time, emotional abuse still counted as domestic abuse, a fact I think my parent forgot.

I am fairly certain my parent has undiagnosed BPD, my psychologist and support worker both seem to think so after seeing the messages I've received from my parent over the year, going from scathing rants to suicidal goodbyes to ignoring me for months to civilized invitations to events we both like and then back to scathing rants. I've lived with my parent for so long I understand how their thought process usually goes so I can understand where each of the actions come from but that doesn't mean I'll be excusing them anymore.

They're still my parent, the one who's loved me, raised me, fought for me, guided me and helped support me for my entire life. However, I also have to accept that they're narcissistic, manipulative and hypocritical. Just because I love them does not mean I love how I'm treated by them. I hope that anyone who's going through anything similar to this can find the help they need to get a better support system and rise above the situation you're in. Take it from someone who can't see their own future still, it DOES slowly get better as long as you have at least one person you can count on.

Seriously thanks for the ask, I've never really gotten to properly talk/write about my life before and how it's changed so much in just a year. I hope you have a great day :))

[deathdanse]

My Corbeau Lore Timeline

Please keep in mind that this may not be completely period accurate as I took some liberties for fun, the timeline and ages may also not quite line up. This may be edited as I refine the timeline and ages more.

Corbeau was born March 11th, 13XX in a brothel to Mother Marie De La Rue and Doctor Jehan Vautour.

Her mother worked in the brothel while her father was the in-house doctor. Her father was always fond of Marie and eventually chose to become a customer and requested Marie, thus beginning of their relationship, which was very loving.

↓

Marie became pregnant again two years later after a lengthy visit from adventurer Roul Rousseou. Jehan did not flinch and happily raised the daughter that would be named Lapin along side two year old Corbeau like she was his own daughter.

Living in the Brothel was a communal lifestyle, Lapin and Corbeau living with other children born under similar circumstances and having different women of the brothel taking turns raising and teaching them practical things such as cooking and sewing, while Jehan taught what he could with reading and writing when he wasn't attending to the health of the women.

↓

Jehan dies in a police raid on the brothel when Corbeau was six and Lapin was four. He was stabbed in the chaos of the raid and later succumbed to his injuries. But no children were harmed and any women that were arrested were eventually released thanks to the brothel women's collective efforts.

↓

Marie finds a new suitor in Piers Lelerc, a low ranking French noble who wanted to have Marie as his personal mistress.

He changes his tune upon Marie telling him that she's pregnant. He attempts to convince her to have an abortion, as he worries the child would cause scandal and endanger his status.

Marie refuses and Piers gets violent. This scares Marie enough that, with the help of the other women in the brothel, pool their resources together to help Marie, Corbeau and Lapin to move out into a different city, away from Piers.

Sometime later, Marie gives birth to her third and final daughter, who she names Minou.

↓

Marie is unable to find another brothel willing to take her in. She switches tactics and becomes a streetwalker, and is able to support her family for three years before contracting Syphillis from a client and was no longer fit to be a prostitute due to her disease.

↓

Corbeau, age twelve, takes it upon herself to become the breadwinner to support her family.

She cross-dresses to find better opportunities for jobs, using her father's name for her persona. She manages to scrape by with small manual labor jobs sprinkled throughout the year.

This continues for two years before Marie succumbs to her illness, leaving a fourteen year old Corbeau to care for ten year old Lapin and two year old Minou by herself.

Corbeau takes her sisters and leaves the town they called home for five years as the plague begins to roll into town.

↓

Corbeau works diligently to provide, protect, and raise her sisters. The three drifting from town to town and settling for some time in the slums while Corbeau worked whatever odd job brought her to the town in the first place.

Corbeau continues to cross-dress, but also occasionally works as a waitress in taverns or parties, she uses what she learns in her day to day life to teach Lapin and Minou the best she can.

↓

Corbeau is hired to care for horses for knights during jousting tournaments held in a major city she and her sisters have moved into. She notices how much the knights make, and how easy it could be to apply anonymously to the tournament without anyone knowing she is a woman.

During her time caring for the horses, Corbeau would take notes and observe how the knights trained, how jousting worked, the rules-- everything. Then, once her shift was over, she would train in secret. Working on her strength, constitution, agility and horse riding using what resources she could find laying around.

↓

Corbeau applies under Jehan Vatour to the tournament after a year of training in secret and acquiring a suit of armor to wear that would obscure her features.

↓

Slowly becomes a rising star, the one everyone looks for. Corbeau gets a taste of victory and battle, reveling in it... just a little two much.

She is adored by fans and nobility alike, she also gains enemies, those jealous of Corbeau's strength and wanting to tear her down.

↓

One of her rivals discovers the truth of Corbeau's identity and rigs the joust so that Corbeau loses, and forces her to remove her armor and reveal to everyone that she is a woman.

She is booed and cursed off the stage as guards haul her away into a jail cell.

Isbeau is present for the tournament, and takes an interest in Corbeau, approaching her in her jail cell and bribing the guard. She offers Corbeau a way out, which Corbeau accepts.

(Read Drabble: Servitude for more)

↓

Corbeau, Lapin, and Minou now live in Isbeau's castle. All three girls recieving a proper education, they learn how to read and write alongside basic math.

Corbeau also undergoes more intense knight-like training.

↓

Corbeau notices how close Minou is getting to Isbeau, and doesn't like it.

Corbeau and her sisters are eventually brought to Isbeau's inner sanctum, where Corbeau wishes "To become a plague upon the world that condemned me and my sisters!" and becomes a magical girl.

Isbeau witches out instantly, Corbeau attempts to fight her but can barely withstand Isbeau's sheer power.

At the last possible moment, before Isbeau's witch destroys Lapin and Minou while Corbeau lay helpless-- Lapin makes her wish, and becomes a magical girl too.

Corbeau can't believe this.

↓

Corbeau and Lapin hone their magical girl skills.

Minou makes her own contract and joins her sisters. Corbeau's heart sinks, but she hides it and insists that she should be the one on the front lines, even if the other two have the means to defend themselves.

↓

Events of Tart Magica.

[somethingusefulfromflorida]

I've been listless for too long, wasting my life by following the path of least resistance, but I've decided to take initiative and go back to school to get a degree that isn't worth less than the cardstock it's printed on.

Math was my passion growing up. It was fun and exciting to me, like solving a puzzle, and I wanted to be an unspecified brand of Scientist™ someday; my mom wanted me to be a mechanical engineer like my grampa. She decided my natural aptitude for math wasn't fast enough for her liking, so she skipped me ahead from algebra straight to AP calculus without geometry or trigonometry. I was completely out of my element, miles behind every other student, so she made me take two year-long homeschool courses in one month to help me catch up before I flunked out. It didn't help, it just made my existing course load even harder. I was burned out and I barely coasted by with a C- and a newfound hatred of math.

I never managed to grok calculus, and promptly forgot everything about it the second I graduated. When I learned that the major my mom wanted me to take in college would require more calculus and physics, I said fuck that and settled for something easy. I bounced around for my first two years, got my AA, and finally chose to pursue English (the greatest mistake of my life) because I had vague ideas of becoming an author, but my university had a shitty English department that didn't teach me anything. All they offered were glorified high school courses, "read a book, write an essay, take a multiple choice test, repeat. Congratulations you're an English major." I never learned grammar or style, I still don't know how to punctuate certain clauses, I completely wasted my final two years taking the most bare bones credits I needed to get a degree with no real goal after graduating. I went to college because it was expected of me, but my plan evaporated in high school because my mom pushed me too hard and even though I passed all my classes I feel like I failed miserably.

I want to go back. I want to retake the high school math I missed in my own time then reapply to my alma mater for another bachelor's program. I want to go into astronomy/astrophysics because all the science classes I took as electives in school were as fun and exciting as I'd hoped they would be, and I remembered that I loved to learn. I want to go back and try again with a real goal this time, to major in astrophysics so I could get a job, a career, doing what I'm good at and enjoy. It's not going to be easy, but I've been taking it easy my entire adult life and I'm trapped in my home town working as a cashier at a side-of-the-highway tourist trap motel at 26. I need to apply myself. I need to live up to the potential I had in high school. I need to go to the moon in this d'cade and do the otha things, not because they are easy, but because they are hahd!

Astronomy and earth/space science were my favorite classes in college, but I never took any beyond the 1000 level, and the suggested semester plan for a BS in astrophysics requires advanced 3000 and 4000 level calc, physics, mechanics, quantum mechanics, electromagnetism, optics, stats, and differential equations to name a few, so I have my work cut out for me. I need to buy some textbooks this summer and relearn prerequisite math before I can even hope to jump into this field. I'm not gonna enjoy it, it's not gonna be fun and exciting all the way, I'm gonna wanna give up, but I need to prove that I'm capable. I need to push myself to do what I don't want to do. I don't need to be a savant, I just need to pass. Cs get degrees. My little sisters are in college now, and both of them are taking a relaxed schedule, part time credits, only a couple classes per semester, however long it takes. The full astrophysics major requires 120 credits, but only 62 are critical, the other 58 are gen ed, and I already have my BA so I can skip those. 62 credits is 2 years of full time work (year and a half if I take a summer semester, though that's four months of work in half the time, so I'd once again risk burnout), but I could bang it out as a part-timer in 3 or 4 years. Hell, if I went back full time I could take a bunch of fun gen ed classes for a minor, or even a double major, but I'm getting WAY ahead of myself.

Start small.

I need to brush up on

Algebra 1

Geometry

Algebra 2

Trigonometry/Pre-Calc

Calculus

It's too late to apply for fall semester this year, and I wouldn't want to anyway because 5 high school math classes are a lot to get through in 3 months. They don't allow spring applications either, so the earliest I could start is fall 2024, 10 years after I started college in the first place. That gives me over a year to master the maths I missed. That's plenty of time! I'm fairly competent in algebra and geometry, so I'd only need to relearn trig and calc.

This is doable.

It's never too late to start over.

[red-mister]

random night talk due to recent events.

I dunno hwo can i be this lucky about this, but i am literally keep getting best jobs without ever applying to any agdjdkajkakd.

First, the radio. I was literally half asleep on lecture when a classmate looked at my band shirt and invited me to radio where all i had to do was to add music i like to their music database. How cool is that? honestly? best job ever. Only, it wasn't really anything groundbreaking in terms of salary but it was still fun with great community so i keep going there from time to time.

Few years later, when i started to bit looking for a job in my field (programming) randomly, i met a guy because we were in a same clan in mobile game XD and he hired me to help him developing mobile app for hospitals. Paying really generously, but i wasn't very good at it tbh. Eventually i gained some experience and it definitely sweetens up my resume.

And now, few days ago, a guy who got contact to me through a friend i used to play dnd with, offered me a 100€ for me, writing a vague script for a dnd session. He is completely out of ideas but super rich so he was looking for some other DMs he may hire for story ideas and friend recommended me. So my job for this summer gonna be writing stories XD i sure can do that.

Meanwhile thanks to experience from my previous job, i am working on my own phone app that i may reveal later this month too 👀 so maybe that will make me some extra money too.

anyway, i hope i wont spook my luck by this post but i am just super excited and thankful for so much luck so far with this i just had to share it or i wouldn't fall asleep agdjfjka

[cathalbravecog]

what do you think both societies would be like if toons and cogs finally make peace with each other and got along? (like with inklings and octolings from splatoon)

ohh!! interesting!! to be honest though, i know nothing about splatoon - but i can still work with this!

thing is, as the game is right now, peace really can't be made because it removes the main conflict that makes toontown, well, toontown - without it there's no gameplay. but imagining an au and a future where cogs and toons get along is interesting!

with my past headcanons i spoke of, i think it'd apply mostly to just toons from toontown and cogs inc or suitopia in general. i'll keep it as just toons of toontown and suitopia in general to keep things a bit easier to speak of since i did state i imagine suitopia as the one place where cogs are while toons are all over the place in different 'toontowns'.

in the case of ttcc (of course), i think it'd have to come with the defeat (or change of heart) for robert. probably not possible for the latter. cogs didn't know much about toons and stayed in their own place until robert and thomas started their company and basically invaded toontown.

i am not sure how that could happen - but i imagine if toons and cogs unite, perhaps they had to go against a third, bigger threat who's after them both. not all toons would agree to make peace with cogs, and not all cogs would be exactly thrilled to have to be friendly with toons -

but in the end it is better for the both of them. the cogs would have retract their invasions, polluting and taken over buildings. however, they don't have to worry about having to be repaired or have pies thrown at them due to a toon attack. that certainly saves some money - even if there's no in-come from all the other things cogs inc does.

cogs inc would probably disband completely, or turn into something else under new leadership because i highly doubt robert would agree with any of this. possibly thomas, since he's getting friendlier with the toons. (but then again, he still does regular cog stuff and doesn't stop anyone - just pointing out he isn't perfect and good himself either.)

but i imagine they could make a profit for having a place for cogs to travel to and relax in and have toontown as a tourist area. i am sure many cogs are curious about the toons and we know how tourists are. despite this being very controversial especially in relation how real life tourist attraction hot spots are (high living costs for natives living there, driving them away from their own homes), i can see this totally happening for toontown. not only that but the cogs and toons could even work together! but yeah it's to drive the point that the cogs are still cogs, they wanna make a profit. even if they're nice with the toons now

especially if they have a bigger threat now which could drive them to work together - because if everything's at peace there's just little to no story to tell.

i can see the cogs helping toons produce more gags to fight with - and perhaps helping with whatever goofy tech they may be building.

i feel like the toons and cogs would be on good terms but have conflict in a silly way - with the temperament of a lot of cogs they're still very serious and just want to get their work done - and not deal with a toon being silly and loud and annoying. still some looney tunes conflict, but in a more light-hearted, well meaning way. like, the war's over.

many toons would take time to adjust, and many would disagree with this. i can see this kind of like HTTYD, when the vikings first began befriending the dragons and inviting them into berk. they had to think of adjustments and how to live together to suit both sides.

on the other hand some cogs wouldn't be fans of this either - but in their case they can just quit, honestly. go somewhere else, find a different job. but that's okay because they're not being like sent to fight the toons now or anything. the cogs that are neutral or even happy about this would stay though.

like it'd take a looong time to adjust yknow? ive mostly been rambling about how they're FIRST getting used to each other without even knowing HOW and WHY it occurred in the first place. it'd need them to put their differences aside and see something they both want to fight for, or some other thing they share. issue is cogs and toons have MANY differences - they are supposed to be polar opposites in general if we don't think about individuals.

but again toontown is a cartoon and i think some big friendship unity COULD happen even if its less realistic. but yeah the first changes that cogs inc would have to be is to stop polluting shit and find different ways to make the company work. i'd say just turning the company place into a living area works since i already headcanon that cogs inc offers that, its basically its own smaller country for cogs outside of suitopia.

in the faaaaaaaaaaar future, things could be far different. it's just second nature that cogs and toons have peace now. perhaps the cogs learn to live simpler, more fun-filled lives. perhaps what the toons could do for the cogs is just go Fuck Capitalism and there's some reforming for suitopia? who knows! hard to imagine for the cogs who are all based on this. a hard question to answer 'coz it's like asking how to fix OUR real life society, LMFAO.

the cogs can learn that, despite them being robots made for work - there's more to life than that, they don't need to live according to their past like that. we don't even know where the cogs come from, but obviously someone had to have built them (even if i imagine cogs as part cartoon magic since they ARE alive they aren't 'JUST' robots)

the toons (of toontown) at least don't have to live in fear of the cogs invading anymore and they're possibly doing well from the new attention from the cogs AND other toons around the world. the toons can relax now, too, and focus on whatever fun hijinks they wanna get up to instead of strategizing and fighting off mean cogs. instead they can just, yknow, be chillin with them!

my brain's a bit scrambled now, i promise i had better comprehensive thoughts last night when i first read this ask so i'm sorta just blurting things out. hope y'all get what i mean!

i don't think it'd be impossible, with how many toons wanna be friends with the cogs (or lovers) (hell even family) with the cogs. but it'd be a hard feat to achieve considering how cogs are. But since many cogs just follow orders it'd need to be a change in how things are lead. (but some cogs would be more easier convinced, we already have some toon friendly/neutral cogs after all)

if i just think about this more and flesh out some of my tooniverse suitopia headcanons more, i think i'd have more comprehensive less repetetive and all over the place thoughts. but still, this is a fun thing to think about, and i'm sure it's something a lot of us cog fans would like to see in-game even just a little bit though it goes agains the whole point of the game. (but it's still in there! just within the realms of how the game works i suppose. looking at misty especially, she's the one who actively wants to befriend toons. then there's neutral cogs like cathal who doesn't even wanna fight. or chip. can't say much i haven't finished his fight yet. or hell, even high roller - they're neutral to cogs and toons - bringing them together on the show. then there's dave dave is something else okay)

but YEAH These are some long ass closing thoughts so lemme end this here since it's LONG. i just wanna explain myself my adhd is showing. TOODLES! i love your guys' asks, please do keep them coming!!

[caxycreations]

Nowhere Else to Put This

WARNING: VENT, STRONG LANGUAGE

I don't know where to start or where to end

so fuck it

just

gonna go.

I have no job. I've tried, before, several times. Worked at a cotton gin when I was 16, got fired 3 hours in because my supervisor kept telling me to sit down and watch how to do the work, and the manager kept coming by RIGHT as I was sitting back watching. So I got fired 3hrs in for "not doing anything besides watching a man four times my age do ten times my work".

Worked at a burger stand after that, lost that job when they closed down a week later. Unemployed for years after that, then mom talked to her boss and managed to get me a job working in-home care, specifically for my grandmother, who was a client of the company. That was great. $11.50 an hour to keep my grandmas place clean, hang out and chat with her, and run errands? I was already doing that, so all that changed was that now I got paid for it.

Eventually snagged a second job, remodel work for the local walmart, and wound up quitting because it felt so fucking pointless. Two of the managers insisted that the local workers could be dropped because this walmart was so small they could do the work with a third of the team in half the time, and made sure to remind the local workers (aka me, mom, my cousin, and my friend, along with 6-7 others out of the 30-man team) that we were completely expendable, and entirely unwanted.

So I quit that job, focused entirely on the in-home care job for a while longer.

And then I moved. Stupid, idiotic, worthless idea. I moved away to live with my boyfriend in Oklahoma, who promptly dumped me two goddamn weeks after I moved, revealing he only wanted me out there to "save me from that dead-end town", and he had actually been thinking of breaking up with me for a month or more, but wanted to "save me" first.

I wind up there for six months, applying everywhere I can, trapped in his house because nobody will hire me and I can't leave on my own because my anxiety prevents me from driving. Finally, my Dad saves the day, finding out what happened and driving for a day solid to get there and bring me back home.

And I still couldn't land a job. A town where everyone knew me, everyone knew my dad, his word could get ANYONE a job there

Anyone but me. Because everyone heard about the gin situation, and saw me as lazy, all because one person several years ago told me to sit down and watch, and another person misread the situation, and the first never stood up for me.

Now I live with Mom. I'm 25, I've lived on my own multiple times in the past, and moved away once before, and I still wound up back here.

I have problems. I have undiagnosed autism (literally proven, tested and proven, but I pissed off the guy who handled my test and he said he would not diagnose "such a smart-mouthed kid" (context: he wanted me to make a story using random bits and bobs from a plastic bag, and I got frustrated after the sixth time of explaining to him that being put on the spot was making it impossible)

I have diagnosed anxiety (been on anti-depressants, relaxants, and even had a doctor outright TELL me that I should get a support animal to help manage it)

There are things I absolutely can not do on my own. I can't drive. I can't deal with the general public in person. I can't even manage to say hi to a stranger.

And it fucking HURTS.

I need to see a dentist, I need to see a doctor, I need to be re-tested for autism by someone who actually fucking cares so I can get that diagnosis on paper instead of people looking at me like an asshole for saying I'm autistic without documentation.

And the only person who can help me do so is my mom, who consistently neglects both myself AND my little brother, because she can't be bothered to deal with any kind of inconvenience to her desire to sit in bed all day and play Spades on her phone, or to go mow the lawn for the 400th time this week just so she can tell us to do everything because "i've been outside all day".

I try to do what I can, I try to earn what I can. But it doesn't fucking work. I try to stream, and so many people say "oh advertise more, you'll be seen by more people" but that's bullshit. I'm lucky to get one new follower in six months. I've got an internet following 700-people strong across all my platforms, and over 100 of them on my Twitch, and I still struggle to get so much as 6 people viewing on a stream at any given time.

But twitch isn't everything, I also do art commissions, writing commissions, and once-upon-a-time did VRChat Avatar commissions!

I stopped doing Art comms because I'd charge $30 for the same thing others were charging $70-$100 for, and I barely got any interest, and the interest I did get, people would ask me for so much more than I was capable of. So I dropped it to just headshots. Five bucks or less depending on the quality asked of me, and it STILL doesn't get me anything.

Writing comms? I've gotten ONE writing comm request in the 7 years I've been offering them, and you wanna know what it was? Some fuckin weirdo asking for, of all things, an NSFW PAW PATROL FIC. I'm sorry, my moral compass might be grey half the time but even on my most morally defunct day I wouldn't write that for any amount of money.

avatar comms? I was actually half good at! Got a few people ordering from me, and it was good money cause I could land $60-$70 comms that took like 2-3 days to do. But then I lost access to the popular model, and people stopped wanting the work, and the few that still did wanted me to do things with models I physically could not do. One client had an asymmetrically patterned oc and INSISTED on using the Terris Wolf, which btw, is LOCKED as a symmetrical texture. The texture wrap is literally just one half of the model, mirrored onto the other half, and the only way to fix that would be to fully unwrap the model in Blender and make a whole new custom texture, WHICH I CAN'T DO because every time I open Blender I get an actual physical headache looking at it. So I stopped because people kept asking me for things I couldn't do, even things that were in my ToS as "Cannot/Will Not Do".

I have no work. I have no income besides the pathetic $50-$60 I make every 3-4 months from streaming.

And when I vent about this, so many people say "I wish I could help you, but I'm going through so-and-so"

I don't want a handout! I accept tips and donations sure, but it's because I can't fucking afford to turn them down! Do you think if I had any reasonable income I'd be asking people to give me money for nothing besides the goodwill of helping me? NO! Because I don't want to be a charity case!

I have a very, VERY capable mind, and very capable hands, and a willingness to learn whatever skill or skills I need to in order to do a job. The problem is I can't work public jobs, I need something that doesn't require driving, and all the work-from-home stuff is either "work hard and one day you might make minimum wage if you're lucky!" or "requires X years experience, bachelor's or greater degree in X field, and must hold X certification"

There are "entry-level" DATA ENTRY jobs that demand certifications! Can you believe that??? Certified, for what? Pushing fuckin buttons? Data entry isn't that fuckin complicated.

I just

I want to earn income.

I hate being given something for nothing. I hate feeling like I owe people, or like the only reason I have something is because someone else decided I was worth it.

I'm worth it to me, I want to buy myself things, I want to be able to afford replacements and repairs when things break or wear down, I want to be able to pay for my own groceries, I want to be able to buy my own clothes, and I want to earn the money used to do so.

I hate feeling so fucking useless, so hopeless. I've spent YEARS improving the few marketable skills I do have, and it's led to a state of living where I can't even afford to buy groceries without asking my boyfriend to pay for them, and I fucking hate it. It's not his responsibility to provide for me, it's mine, and I'm tired of relying on everyone around me for the most basic shit.

Sorry to spill this here. Nowhere else fucking cares and the people I normally vent to have heard this all before and I don't want to bother them with it.

[itissadbutitsmy-artblog]

Dr. C x Momdebra. Thoughts?

you sent me this while i was not sober i wish you couldve heard me laugh

um ok so i actually have lots of thoughts after thinking about it all night. my FIRST thought was that abracadaniel's "were you guys talkin about me ',:D" makes me think she has something going on with ABRACADANIEL, but (brushes that aside) hes gay smh. but he clearly wants cal's approval.

WHICH HE'D WANT IF SHE WAS DATING HIS SISTERR OHHH

also other thoughts. it explains why she was so completely bland about cadebra this entire time. youd think shed either love her or hate her, given that deb's a main character the only other member of the Weak House. but she ignores her during class entirely. no playing favorites in doctor cal's class no sir ignores the whole pep thing. she DOES very very gently go check on her when pep runs off and blaines out there smearing his name.

well. i think itd be fun. i mean. i am. very angry at this lady for everything she did and she is not very nice (WHICH LADY? YES). but cal has this very supportive kind veneer i think she really did love those kids to some extent (bro it stops when you leave them lying in an alley alone to die. but she DID just want everyone to have a good time in her class. and "ohh, hey, ease up" lives in my mind forever, as insidious as it was, given who she was saying it to and when. "thats my favorite student you're talking about." augh. okay. that really does hit.)

BUT i think itd be fun. because momdebra is soooo overbearing and intense, mom wants cadebra to push herself so far, mom is insistent that cadebra follow a specific path and track specific numbers to make herself the perfect wizard as dictated by arbitrary levels and abilities. whereas, doctorate though she may have, cal seems so much more holistic, and just wants everyone to follow their own path and learn their own way, and fill their heads with joy and knowledge, she wants everyone to delight in the pursuit of learning and she will stand out in the rain and the mud with you and gently explain the cultural and historical significance of every artifact you find for hours until you are satisfied. like thats her deal. i do not forgive her for the things she did (i need to remind myself of that because im MAD ! she left blaine there defenseless she WATCHED spader die!) but i do think she has a truly kind side to her because learning and pleasure in doing so are actually important to her. just, not as important as bringing about the second age of terror. anyways. sorry this turned into me trying to unravel my cal thoughts.

so i think it would be really funny to see her and momdebra interact over deb. as partners. like mom keeps sending a miserable deb back to work on her incantations over and over and cal is like oh, my goodness, are you still on that? deb, let's go look at some bugs, in the park. (there's a secret hidden lesson buried in the bug-observing expedition) (also she tells her what a good job she's doing and how she can be a wizard in any way she wants no matter what her mom says) (it's corney as hell) (cuz that's cal for you). i would LOVE to think this chills momdebra out a little bit and she learns Acceptance. but i doubt it. she is just blinded by her cool 20 foot tall girlfriend who is so super good at magic. did you know doctor caledonius is level 80000, cadebra??? YOU could be level 80000 so EASILY if you just APPLIED YOURSELF.

anyways it's so sad we cant ship damn near any of the fuckin adults together without running into "SO THEY WERE OKAY WITH LETTING THEIR PARTNER'S DAUGHTER DIE. SO THEY WERE OKAY WITH HELPING THAT TO HAPPEN." like. bro. this is so sad. cal threw deb at her friends and said "get rid of her". cadebra doesnt even have like,,,, any cool adults to run to about this does she. cal in this scenario was probably a level-headed nice person in her life who seemed to support her and want her to be herself. and she went to brain wizard when she was scared that one time. and now what. she went to abracadaniel when she was scared that other time but whats he gonna do??? huddle her under a blanket and go yell at his sister for dating a maniac until he remembers he's too scared of her to do that and then come to hide under the blanket with deb.

i dunno how to end this post i got words. my thoughts: 9/10 excellents fun scenario to play in. i absolutely wanna see what that does to cadebra's life.

[lebomboniere06]

Eiji Akaso speaks to a "small magazine"

Summary

🔸When he was 20,21 years when was barely surviving as actor he started to read Nietzsche,him at that same age was jobless like him so he started to read his books

🔸Education was never difficult [from an early age he was told : if you study hard as a child, you will have many more choices in front of you in the future to help you find your goals,so even now as an adult he always studies even its hard now like an habit].

🔸 English was his favorite class that's why he wanted to majored in English.

🔸he first told his mother he wanted to be an actor,she said she will support him but she said : " the problem is your father isn't"

🔸As his father was an university professor he worried but his dad kindly gave him a push saying: "it's good you found what you want to do"

🔸Kuroko's basketball Director's impression of Akaso [Most of the actors I contacted wanted to show their faces, so that the director could see more of them, but Akaso was the opposite, very low-key, and he was always talking about acting, so I thought this kid was too sincere, and that's what made the director appreciate Akaso.

🔸During Cherry Maho🍒he realized communication was Important on his growth & changed, before this he was afraid to give his opinion & have discussions about the play.

🔸About Haruka:

"After we got married in the Novel we talked about what this scene we convey than we didn't when we're childhood friends.

wearing a hanger, laughing & jocking around,I clearly separated my time off & on(laughs)"

🔸From the beginning to the end Akaso responded politely

The last sentence of the interview script is also moving

"I asked a Hundred Billion stars to illuminate Akaso new path" ( referring to Takashi famous tanka in the series)

Intercepts of the interview ⬇️

"Friends and relatives say to me 'I'm watching, congratulations', and I'm happy to be called 'Takashi' when I walk on the street"

Previously, Akaso was notable for his works geared toward the younger crowd, and this time, his smooth yet gentle tone in the morning drama has skyrocketed his popularity among housewives.

In order to find out what kind of character he really is, Bunshun "small Magazine" hastily applied to him personally for an interview & collect materials, and received permission.

"I lost more auditions than I can count, and the first few years I was living on a part-time job. The first year there were two or three job opportunities, but they were all one-line roles. Even when I tried to honor my parents with my first paycheck, it was all used as living expenses ....... I remember being very upset. It really was a barely living life, not living without working meals, and only buying things on discount sale at the supermarket. Barely making ends meet."

Norihito Nakayashiki, who wrote and directed the 2016 stage plays "Kuroko's Basketball", revealed. "A lot of young actors love to act like, 'Look at me. I want to be popular', but he is the complete opposite. It's rare to see actors with such low self-promotion skills (laughs). But I was attracted to such an Akaso. I remember during rehearsals he would ask, 'How are my lines?' He was always talking about acting.

"At that time, I was not experienced enough to express my opinion, but I didn't answer yes or no immediately to what my senpais told me, Instead ,I thought about it carefully in my own mind. "

He was a sincere actor who faced acting.

"At that time, I think I was still in the dark" Where did he get the proof that he could continue as an actor?

Akaso said again.

"I haven't any confirmation yet, but what made up my mind was during the time of "Kamen Rider Build". (The super masked heroes series) lasted for a year, and the children would call me 'Banjo'. I guess the children didn't want to see a Kamen Rider in a part-time job. After that, I decided to never live on part-time jobs again"😭

*( it's hard not to love Him ,who gently guards the children's dreams 🥹🥺)

Source:

[artisafeelingg]

AUTHENTICITY:

I always talk to people and get the “you’re so different than I imagined” talk. While I know this is meant to be a compliment, and hearing it gives me great solace in knowing that someone has finally uncovered the real Lucia without letting their judgements of who I am from my social media, etc. hinder that, I cannot help but feel slightly sad. What about all of the individuals that never see the real me? Or all of the people who allow an Instagram post or a passing glance to write my narrative of who I am as an individual? This blog post is dedicated to starting my journey of authenticity and sharing ME on social media. From a young age I’ve been passionate about writing. In my eyes, the beauty of the written word surpasses all other forms of communication. Writing was my first love, and we had a tumultuous affair from writing articles for The Indianapolis Star to publishing my poetry in an anthology on Amazon and other international print magazines. Like all first loves, I put a tremendous amount of pressure on my love for writing and considered even making it my major. Eventually, we went our separate ways but my passion and knack for it has never ceased to exist, even many years later. I’m writing this first post as a toast to authenticity, and to using my social media to express who Lucia Ponader really is. She rather sentimental (queue the weekly cry sesh!) She is an avid lover of words and will constantly use large words which shocks people (girls can be hot and smart too. It’s called elevated diction. Godspeed on your journey of literacy). She is messy, passionate, unorganized (just ask her friends) and a whirlwind of emotion and intensity. She is a lover of ALL Asian cuisine and with absolutely zero apprehension would eat any form of Asian cuisine every day for the rest of her life. She is a self proclaimed dumpling connesuir. She absolutely cannot function without her trusted Aquaphor. She MUST sleep with multiple fans blasting on full speed directly onto her face (to the average overnight guest one would believe that they were at sea on a particularly windy day trying to fall asleep in her room). She might quite possibly be a hoarder because of her emotional attachment to literally anything. She enjoys sunshine beaming down, with a kombucha in tow and her favorite book. Or watercoloring outdoors with a great friend. She lived in Italy for 8 months and LOVES to travel. She conquered Hawaii next. Her absolute favorite movie of all time is the Great Gatsby directed by Baz Luhrmann, one of her favorite directors of all time. She hates driving, those sporadic “can I talk to you” texts, and picky eaters. She aspires to be a food critic, travel to every country in the world, and make her own Anthony Bourdain: No Reservations (P.S. Anthony Bourdain is my answer to the who would you have dinner with dead or alive question). She hates small talk and would rather engage in an enthralling discussion about something more abstract. Her favorite question to argue: do you believe in the idea of truth as it is literally defined? (in my opinion the correct answer is no, truth is merely a construct that is completely subjective and therefore is inherently unable to exist according to the definition of “truth”). She is creative and thinks outside the box; rules do not apply to her. She is an internationally published poet. She once ghostwrote music for her SoundCloud rapping ex. Favorite artist? Monet or musically it would have to be Cigarettes After Sex. She has been coined the “jester” of her friend group, as it’s her job to entertain and make people laugh. She does not believe that love is enough or that it exists for her (absolutely feel free to prove me wrong at any point). She loves a good laugh. She has flaws too, like all of us, but perhaps we will dive into those in another post. She exists differently in every single persons mind, but it’s time she takes control of that narrative, just a little. Here’s my take on authenticity, perfectly imperfect. Stop taking Instagram so seriously.