#because i grew up in those communities and there is NO ONE MORE AWARE of how horrible YET REDEEMING people can be

[thrushppelt]

go show your mother your posts. pathetic freak

she helped me characterize them luv <3 i show her all my (sfw..) art where they're blatantly abusive

[adragonsfriend]

Use this one trick to instantly fix all childhood trauma (Jedi Masters don’t want you to know this)!!!!!

That is what every “if Obi-Wan had just— *adds one extra scene to canon* —then Anakin would’ve had perfect mental health and never listened to Palpatine at all,” sounds like to me. Look I am not an expert on any kind of psychology at all let alone early childhood development but,

It is possible to do your very best to help or raise someone and still have bad or imperfect outcomes, especially when you have someone actively, secretly working against you (cough cough Sith Lord of the month cough), (for many reasons, but in this case particularly), because unravelling the mindset built in early childhood is hard, actually.

Coming at this from the “raised in a safe and loving environment” side of things, it took me years to figure out and internalize that my friends whose parents weren’t as great as mine were functioning in an entirely different landscape when it came to their interactions with adults.

Many years ago when I was in middle school a friend (acquaintance? idk I think most people thought I was annoying) told me that her ankle kept giving out and causing her pain. I asked if she'd told her parents so she could rest or go to the doctor. She told me she had, but her mother either hadn't listened or refused to help. My (approximate) responses?

"So it's not actually that bad then?"

"You should tell her again."

"Are you sure you explained it right?"

The only explanation I could comprehend at the time was that there must have been some unclear communication about the situation or its severity--if her mother had understood she was in pain, she couldn't possibly have just not done anything about it? Adults are responsible, caring, etcetera! They wouldn't do that?!

With more experience, I've come to understand better, and learned to respond in kinder, more helpful ways, but the shift in mindset was not and is not intuitive.

And I had the luxury of figuring all that out whilst being safe myself. Coming from the other direction, being in danger and trying to figure out why other people act like the world is safe? I can't say for sure, but I imagine it’s a lot more complicated.

Point with regard to Star Wars being, it really is harder for Anakin, coming in later, to acclimate to the Jedi ways and thought processes than it is for his peers who grew up in the safe environment of the Temple. And whatever arguments people want to have about how much psychology and therapy exist in the Star Wars universe, or how much “Jedi just do cognitive behavioral therapy” (not totally inaccurate, but reductive on several levels), no matter what the answers to those questions, it will still be harder for Anakin.

There is a reason the council changes its mind on training him only after he is suddenly famous and the Sith are proven to be back. When Anakin was not in significant danger of being snatched up by someone else, it was genuinely probably the easier and safer option—for him and everyone else—for him to live a different life.

The Jedi are not necessarily fully prepared for a child with Anakin's history, and, there is nothing bad about living an ordinary life. Anakin would not have been somehow unforgivably robbed by living life as a mechanic or an engineer or something, rather than being a Jedi.

Anakin is a victim of many things in his life—Sidious, Watto, Gardulla, Tatooine’s everything, his own conscious choices—but he is not a victim of malice, incompetence, or idiocy by the Jedi just because they couldn't—in only a decade or so—help him fully and perfectly unravel the mindset he developed in his early childhood. If there was any lack of qualification on their part, it was one they were aware of—but which was outweighed by the danger of little Anakin getting kidnapped out of normal-kid elementary school.

Being brought up in and around slavery absolutely made him more vulnerable to Sidous and became the basis of their dynamic as master and apprentice. Acting like the trauma that affects his mindset and actions for his entire life can be obliterated just by making minimal changes to the plot is wild to me.

And don’t get me wrong, fics and headcanons can do whatever they want, not everyone wants or is trying to write a deep psychological character study (also fanfic and even fiction in general cannot and should not be held to any standard of realism if it's not serving the story and the author)—simple fix-it’s (my love) are fun and an excellent short-cut to other things like happiness and fluff (my other loves)—but don’t act serious about the idea that adding one conversation about his feelings or one extra explanation about Jedi philosophy would automatically lead to Anakin having perfect mental health outcomes and always making good decisions.

Disclaimer (if the ones throughout weren't enough) : please go forth and do whatever you want. the moral of this post is actually just that (1) you won’t convince me, (2) I wanted to talk about this, (3) the clickbait title was too funny not to post, (4) i literally can't open my mouth without phrasing things like i'm in the middle of a heated debate, and (5) i continue to not be an expert in early childhood development—my evidence is very literally anecdotal

[ox-imagines]

Tokyo Debunker as Romance Tropes

Feel free to ask me to write a longer imagine/oneshot for any of these!

Pt. 5 | Hotarubi

Pt. 1 | Pt. 2 | Pt. 3 | Pt. 4 | Pt. 6 | Pt. 7

Subaru - Boy Next Door

Subaru’s family moved in next door to yours one summer, much to the excitement of many of the girls at your school. He's always polite about their attention, but gets shy very easily, and is quiet in class. He excels in everything he does, other than socialization. You finally approach him walking home from the bus one day, introducing yourself. He seems startled and a bit nervous when you speak to him, as if expecting you to be like the girls at school who fawn over him, but he relaxes once he realizes you’re just trying to be friendly. You start hanging out with him more, finding him to be just as sweet as he seems and actually quite passionate to match. The girls at school have mixed reactions to your spending time with him. Some are a bit

jealous, some seem disappointed, some congratulate you on being someone who could finally catch his attention. You try to explain that you‘re just friends and eventually the buzz dies down some. As time passes, you start to see him a bit differently. You ignore it, because how could one possibly not feel affection toward such a sweet, gentle boy? Unfortunately those feelings come to a head when one of your classmates asks him to a school dance and, not wanting to upset anyone, he accepts her invitation. You feel sick when he tells you, but you smile and nod and congratulate him. You don’t tell him you weren’t going to go. The night of the dance, he comes back a little after ten, coming over to your house. Your parents let him in and let him go up to your room. You’re surprised to find it was him who knocked on your door; the dance didn’t end until 11, what was he doing back early? Besides, you look a mess, your pajamas on and your eyes a bit puffy from crying over him. He immediately asks what's wrong and ushers you back over to your bed, sitting with you, then reveals that he left the dance early because it ‘didn’t feel right.’

“I missed you tonight, you should’ve been there. Can, can I kiss you?”

Haku - Best Friend's Brother

You grew up alongside your best friend, and her brother Haku. He’s a year or so older than your friend and always friendly with you both, playing with you when you were younger, though he seemed more distant and busy with his own friends the older he got. As you both grew up, you couldn’t deny how exceedingly gorgeous he is, growing out and dying his hair, his lithe frame filling out. He finally had the looks to match the smooth mouth he’d always had. You weren’t aware, but he finds that you’ve grown up well too. When he graduates the year before you and leaves for school, you’re left feeling a little sadder than you expected. You keep tabs on his social media posts, a part of you wishing you were with him. Eventually though, you’re swept up with exams and your own graduation preparations. Before you know it, you’re out of school and Haku’s home for the summer. In almost no time, you somehow find yourself in a somewhat… compromised position with him in your game room while both your families were just upstairs. After all the times you’ve imagined this, though, you can’t really complain.

“I hope you know you’re not just some summer fling to me. With that said, though, please don’t tell my sister? Not yet, at least?”

Zenji - Falling in Love with the Wrong Person

Zenji is a creative, romantic soul, and manages to see the best in everyone. Even when he’s worried, he can find the good in almost any situation. He’s got a heart of gold. That’s where you come in. You think he’s a great guy, and he quickly falls head over heels for you. Unfortunately, love isn’t the only thing a relationship needs to hold it together. You sometimes have trouble understanding Zenji and his interests and his unique ways, and you don’t always find it easy to communicate your own problems with him, despite him trying his best to be a good listener for you. You do try to put in the effort to keep your relationship for a while, but it wears on you. Zenji, on the other hand, tries to stay optimistic. He does everything in his power to patch up the issues between you, refusing to see them simply as differences between the two of you instead of problems that can be fixed. He tries to be everything you want and need, ignoring the emotional strain it’s putting on him. It only makes it harder on you; you can see what he’s doing, and the effect it has on him, but it makes you love him more in an albeit guilty sense. You have a man who’d move mountains for you if he could, but you can’t find it in you to be who he needed. Your love and genuine appreciation for him makes it hurt all the more to end things, but it’s also why you know you can’t just hold onto him like this and watch him tear himself apart anymore.

“I’m not sure I understand, my dear. Is there something I’ve done? Was it something I didn’t do? Please, dearest, I’m certain I can fix this, let me fix us.”

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Gay Cheerleaders AU

Y'all knew it was coming.

I'm thinking Lena would be the... third(?) year veteran, who is a legacy. Her mom Lillian was also a cheerleader, and then became the head honcho in charge of the cheerleading division. Lena grew up with the expectation of eventually joining the organization as a dancer, and naturally becomes a group leader (the youngest 1st group leader in the history of the organization?) through her sense of responsibility, magnetism, and compassion, even if she remains a little distant-- she doesn't share her whole self with the team, as she's constantly aware of needing to present the image of a perfect cheerleader, a perfect leader.

Kara would be the rookie, immediately awed by Lena's performance during tryouts. She's not in Lena's group, but her own group leader faces some... personality challenges, lets say, that have Kara taking on more of a responsibility than would normally be allocated to a first year dancer.

But when Kara and Lena end up bumping into each other in the studio for some solo practice, they agree to share the space and work together. Of course they end up bonding, and those practices lead to coffees, lunches, some movie nights.

They eventually become the darlings of the team, inseperably so. Young fans try to catch glimpses of them standing together on the sidelines, loving to see Kara acting herself (aka goofy) and seeing Lena laughing in response. Behind the scenes they become romantically and sexually involved, but they keep it hidden because while it's not explicitly forbidden, they do cheer for a very conservative state, and they know it would impact not only their squad but the team overall.

In their day jobs, Lena is a children's dance teacher-- she wants to do more, but Lillian wants it for the community-service image it presents. Kara would be a fitness trainer I think, something lucrative but flexible and reflective of her athletic and exuberant nature whereas Lena is a bit more reserved.

Kara and Lena span multiple seasons/classes, and in the off season Lena pops up on Kara's instagram a little bit here and there, which only fuels the quiet online rumors about them. Like, the people who clock them are also queer in a conservative region of the country, so it's not a mass pop-culture phenomenon-- yet.

That all changes when one night Lena is grabbed inappropriately by a cameraman or other stadium employee, and can't manage to extricate herself despite her obvious and vocal discomfort. Kara sees red. She slugs the man right across the jaw with a proper right hook. The cameras had only just started to pan over to Lena's commotion and catches the exact moment Kara lunges for him and spins Lena out of his reach.

Kara is the champion/brute of the moment, depending on who's talking. Some laud her for both her protectiveness of her teammate and her technique, while others condemn her for unladylike vigilantism. Why didn't she let the security team deal with it, she serves a role model for young girls what is she teaching them the thug life?

Most importantly-- and most dire, perhaps-- is that it clues Lillian into the deeper nature of their relationship. She corners Lena, and interrogates her as Lena tries and tries to deflect. Lillian all but tells her that she'll be watching Lena through a microscope, and terrifies Lena to the point she breaks up with Kara in an attempt to protect her tenure with the organization.

Kara doesn't really care about all that, but when Lena says it's what she wants, she respects that. Until the team goes to the superbowl, and in the height of emotions at the winning touchdown, Lena forgets herself and throws her arms around Kara's neck and kisses her.

She's stunned at herself, horrified even, but before she can even try to apologize Kara recovers and kisses her again, this time long and slow. The cameras not on the players or stadium stands are focused on them, and the next day and weeks they are the only ones anyone can talk about, for better or worse.

Lillian uses Lena's next year, her fifth and final, as leverage. Apologize publicly for her lapse in judgement, confirm it was only ever friendship, condemn Kara for assault-- or she's out.

Lena listens calmly, then smoothly rises.

"Then I'm out."

She walks out without a second glance.

[str4ngr]

𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐞 [ 𝐊Ö𝐍𝐈𝐆 ]

𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟒 | 𝘀𝗶𝘇𝗲 𝗱𝗶𝗳𝗳𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲 |

cw: suggestive, foul language, strangers, one-sided sexual tension, perverted thoughts and behavior [ perverted! könig ], no real communication/conversation, reader is described with smaller proportions which are greatly dramatisized, gn!reader.

note: size difference is the attraction to a drastic difference within two peoples proportions.

𝐂𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐄 was a satisfying relaxant, albeit a stimulant.

könig was fully aware of that fact, however, each mission was always followed by a late evening cappuccino. his seat was always in the corner, a less intimidating balaclava gracing his face in place of his usual sniper hood.

he was a people watcher, eyes on every figure that walked through the door, focusing and refocusing at each ring of the polite door bell.

until you.

the moment his eyes met the curve of your hips as they swayed slowly, lazy legs dragging you to the register, he had no other thoughts on his mind, only focused on you. your body was visibly exhausted, from whatever job you were working, and he adored that tired smile that fell on your lips as you greeted the cashier.

he felt almost jealous, watching the trembling trainee cashier slowly take your two-item order, even though he had just met- well, seen you. he watched as you turned in his direction, stalking over to the bar stools beside the windows, tossing your bag to your feet as you take out your earbuds. he watched you at the stool, a little over a meter a away, your feet mindlessly kicking back and forth as you scrolled on your phone. he watched as you remembered your cup of water, drawing pictures on the precipitation on the outside.

his hand grasped his glass in a quick moment, mind becoming hazy his finger wrapped around, easily overlapping as he held the glass cup, in comparison to your hand that just barely wrapped half way around the glass. god, your fingers must be so fucking small,

"can you even make yourself cum?"

the question bloomed in his mind and he gladly let it linger. he let each thought come without restriction, without filter. your cute little hips, plush, fleshy bum sat so pretty and cute on the stool, the stool that he never goes to sit at because he could barely rest half of hip on it,

"how big would my hand look on your ass?"

könig chewed on the already scarred flesh of his inner cheek, his large arm flexing as they crossed across his broad chest. he was grateful he didn't wear a belt today, especially with how vicious his sudden hard-on was getting. he watched as you picked at your cuticles, seemingly having nothing else to do, your little hands rubbing against each other to warm up. when your feet rested on the bar between the legs of the stool, the fabric of his baclava followed the perverted smirk the grew on his lips,

"i could wrap my hand around your ankles so fucking easily,"

his hand tightened around his glass of water, his cappuccino sat cold beside him. each little movement of your tiny body made his jeans tighten even more. the fat of his thighs rested as the spread apart from another, the large muscles underneath breaking the fabric, making the motors of his mind race even more,

"fuck, how pretty you would look riding my thigh, mäuschen,"

that thought alone made him sigh, imagining your cute little hips grinding down on his thigh, adorable hands grabbing at his biceps, not even able to get a good grip because they were too fucking small. how his large hands would dwarf your gorgeous figure as he caressed you all over, making you mewl and moan his name in shy pleasure. he, although this is the first time he's had these thoughts, was absolutely obsessed with how tiny you were in comparison to him, how he could swallow you with his shadow, how your neck would hurt if you looked up at him for too long, how he could fuck you while standing up.

the devils eyes burned as your head snapped to the pick up area. maybe those thoughts would never be pronounced by his thick accent, but as he listened to the nervous trainee repeat your name, there was certainly something else to be whispered that night.

ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

with my fave again ❤︎❤︎❤︎

literally was kicking my feet and giggling while i wrote this.

translation

1. little mouse

༒︎ 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫; 2023 ༒︎

directory

[actingwithportals]

I wish more people understood that not every blind person is the exact same and we do not all need the same things and also the circumstances under how you were raised and when your blindness occurred and how involved you were in a blind community all play parts into what accessibility needs you will have.

Like. I was born legally blind. My vision has been for the most part stable my whole life, and it is likely to not change (unless normal worsening with age). I was raised in a family full of sighted people and all of my friends and members of my community were sighted people. I did not start meeting other blind people and joining blind communities until my early teenage years. This shaped me in such a way that I never learned Braille until I started teaching myself when I got older, did not learn to use a cane until I started attending blind camps as a teen, did not know I had an option of asking for accessibility with videos or images or menus or shopping or cooking or ANYTHING until I met other blind people who made it clear to me that there was a way I could exist with independence as a blind person and didn't have to just. miss out on life that I couldn't see.

So a vast majority of the way I taught myself to get by is very different from someone who spent a lot more of their early years around other blind people. But I also picked up a great deal of "normal" blind accessibility tricks from my teen years of involving myself with more blind communities that other blind folks who never involve themselves in blind communities are aware of or find useful.

My vision teacher as a kid showed me JAWS and explained what it was, but never really bothered to teach me to use it because ZoomText she decided was better for me. So I grew up to use screen magnifiers and not screenreaders. She didn't teach me Braille because she could get ahold of large print books, and when she couldn't she would find me a vast array of magnifiers to use. Ones with lights, ones in different shapes, some that were actual screen devices while others were simply glass. She didn't teach me how to use a cane and instead got me monoculars and bioptics, even though those actually...were not very easily usable to me. I had to teach myself how to use a cane after my first year of camp where I was gifted one, and later expanded upon learning when I finally took Orientation and Mobility training my year before moving out to college. I wouldn't start learning Braille until around the same time when I was given a Brailler by the specific state agency that provided assistive devices to blind students during high school and college.

So now, as an adult, what I find useful is reading text on a screen so that I can adjust my own contrast and magnification, I use a cane when walking around on my own outside of my home or other familiar areas, I use Braille on my keyboard and around on my household appliances so that I don't have to bend over or squint to attempt to read any settings or buttons or keys. A different blind person who grew up with different circumstances will have a very different list of assistive technology that is useful to them. Some will hate magnifiers and prefer audiobooks. Some would rather read Braille. Some will use puff paint or color-coding for household appliances or items like on clothing tags or toothbrushes. Some will use bioptics or monoculars when going to the theater instead of sitting close to the screen, or they might do both, or neither and will just listen. Some will use canes, some will use service dogs, some will use neither, or might prefer a sighted guide.

There are...so many ways a blind person might choose to make their life accessible. And we do not always agree with each other on what is best, because we do not all have the same eyes. Nor do we have the same ears, or hands, or feet. We are varied and complex and we disagree sometimes and come together other times and we discuss amongst ourselves on how to make things better for our community and we confer with other communities on how we help ourselves and help each other. We are not all the same. We are not all the same. We are not all the same.

If you want an answer for what is the One Agreeable accessibility feature for blind people: there isn't one. So just talk to us, instead. Get to know how we vary, how we relate, how you can best help one of us and how you might best help another. I'm sure we'd be happy to tell you what works best for us individually if you ask. And if we wouldn't, then that's ok. Sometimes we gotta figure things out on our own first before we can explain it to others. Either way, never stop asking. Because accessibility is always evolving, and someone is always going to have a different answer to the same question.

You can't get accessibility wrong if you're just willing to try. So keep trying.

[myun-saidthoughts]

Who Feels The Effects of 8th & 12th House Synastry?

(Can also apply to someone's Pluto/Neptune harshly aspecting your inner planets)

If the person in question possess placements in Pisces, Neptune, Scorpio or Pluto, the 12th house, or the 8th house, along with having challenging aspects towards their Moon/IC/fall or detriment placements, they will more than likely sense an immediate energetic shift in your presence. While you will also feel the intensity, they are the ones profoundly affected by the energies you emanate. This can be further seen when their housing placements activate placements in your natal chart, igniting areas of heightened energy you were unaware of.

If you are the one who has these placements, then it is likely you will feel the intensity of the connection more than them, (primarily in the beginning).

That being said, someone having these placements indicates that they've experienced a harsher upbringing in their childhood. Internal struggles might have occurred where the parent(s) weren’t nurturing or emotionally/physically there. So, now when it comes to romantic partners, if the individual is not aware of their deep-rooted pain or fear of true intimacy, unwanted patterns and situations will keep repeating.

Having the Sun/Moon or many planets in the 12th house might indicate physically absent parents, the Sun represents the father and the Moon represents the mother. Having a natal 12th house Sun or Moon might showcase emotional or physical distance and connection with a parent. Emotions were under-wrapped, clear communication or understanding wasn’t a common theme in their life. Especially if the individual has multiple planets in the 12th house, having this house as a prominent influence would heighten their sensitivity to energy and emotions. Boundaries within may be blurred unaware of how one should be treated due to the lack of care they felt, and whatever planet is located in the 12th house would showcase the lack of emotional connection and theme that the individual would experience.

When it comes to natal 8th house placements, having a lot of prominent planets in this house can indicate dealing with a lot of ego deaths and rebirths for this individual. Lessons started very early for them, and loss could have been a common experience, and fear of intimacy or true vulnerability might have reigned within their veins. Often times they undergo tons of transformation because of how much trauma they might of experienced growing up (entire natal chart is needed though for this to manifest heavily). Extremes might have also been a common theme for them; where maybe the individual grew up wealthy or well off and then one day lost it all, or they had a massive family then suddenly had to move away due to unforeseen circumstances. Especially if this individual has a Water Moon with challenging aspects, their mother could have been MIA then emotionally turbulent, where she gave love one second then completely abandoned them in the next (scorpio). Or where she was overly needy/emotional making them act as a parent (cancer) or as a savior that swept anyway pain for their parent(s) (pisces), being nurtured or cared for was unlikely therefore now they might struggle with accepting true intimacy and love.

With the 8th house, there is one clear distinction compared to the 12th house, and that is the 8th house doesn't have any hidden agendas. Everything is out in the open, the good and the bad. Pain was often something that occurred in the native’s life, (depending on other factors such as the Moon’s aspects and the IC) but in general, emotions run deep, and they run outwardly, especially if the native has a water Moon, (Scorpio, Cancer or Pisces). The planet that falls in the 8th house and it's aspects would paint a better picture of how much intensity this individual would experience (more exact descriptions in my eBook)

One common theme I notice when it comes to those who deal with such intensity in this synastry; is the fact that the person who is undoubtedly going through the most pain and turmoil has unresolved parental wounds that now bleed in every relationship they enter. Either one or both parents were emotionally or physically absent, and the type of love that they were surrounded with was either cold or lacking in one area of life. The love their parents gave them was either not enough or not right. This is more true for those w a poor aspected IC/Moon/fall or detriment placements etc.

Your sole caregivers, the people who are supposed to unconditionally love, care, nurture, and choose you didn’t; and that alone brings the deepest pain you now hold. You may not even be aware of that void you possess because in intricate situations your caregivers could have been there in ways that might satisfy others, yet for your soul, that satisfaction and safety that you needed and deserved, never came. Oftentimes when the individual has heavy 8th or 12th house placements (w a poor aspected IC/Moon/fall or detriment placements etc) this also could mean having a parent that chose themselves, others, substances, situations, or opportunities over you, creating a lack of self-worth and value that you now carry.

To gain a deeper understanding of the intensity experienced through this synastry, it is crucial to first comprehend the individuals' life experiences and the circumstances they have faced. By doing so, one can better grasp the extent to which the person will be affected by this synastry. Moreover, in some extreme cases, this understanding can unveil the true origins of toxic patterns. If one is unhealed or afraid to acknowledge and let their deep rooted pain go, finding a true partner is difficult.

In extreme situations, these individuals might tell themself that it’s easier to run from real connections or partners, yet there is a part of them that is eagerly wanting a safe home. So with that, there's now a side of them that they lock and hide away, and at the core, there exists a deep-seated fear within—an apprehension of allowing someone to truly see and know the entirety of who they are.

With 8th house synastry and if you have these deep-rooted fears/abandonment wounds then this would manifest as you clinging onto this individual for dear life. They somehow become this one home you’ve always desired, and that peace you’ve always wished for now is present, but only when you’re with them. 

With 12th house synastry and if you have these deep-rooted fears/abandonment wounds, then this would make you feel safe loving someone whom you know will never truly be yours. You feel safe sitting in the area of uncertainty because accepting true real love scares you to your core.

Therefore the second you realize these individuals who touch your deepest wounds; won’t ever give you the soothing love or care you deeply wish for, the power that they have on your emotions and well-being will dissipate. They are just reflecting the pain that you now suppress from past partnerships and childhood experiences.

In my eBook, I have provided more precise definitions regarding the placements of the IC, Moon aspects, and the potential manifestations of each inner planet in the 8th or 12th house for individuals. You can find the link to my eBook pinned on my page for easy access.

[whatbigotspost]

Ya know what I don’t like about the chatter about “nepo babies” in Hollywood?

The fact that everyone doesn’t already assume that most famous people are them.

Because y’all. We should be assuming it’s the default in Hollywood. Because it is.

After 20 years in the extremely indie micro budget filmmaking community in both Indiana and Texas, I can tell ya, all over the country there are extremely talented folks creating, writing, acting, etc. who should be recognized but they’re not. Whose work should get more eyes but it doesn’t. And it’s pretty much exclusively because they don’t know the right people to open the right doors and they don’t have the ability (for a variety of very different reasons) to leave their entire lives and communities behind to move to LA and spending years taking abuse at low wage PA gigs, working 3-4 jobs to make rent, pounding the pavement with endless auditions, withstanding constant rejection, etc. waiting to see if they “make it big.”

Power perpetuates power. Hollywood insiders will always give advantages to their kids in ways big and small. Even if someone’s famous parents don’t ask for favors or overtly hire them, those kids’ social lives and networks are linked with the right people to open the right doors. Plus getting the education a mega celebrity can afford for their kids? The private lessons? The exposure to the industry from day one? Knowing the right way to socially comport yourself in Hollywood spaces from day one?

Advantage on advantage on advantage.

I’m not saying that there aren’t very massively talented nepo babies in their own right. But I am saying that for a nepo baby we can never REALLY know if they would have made it on their own. We simply can’t know if they grew up in a trailer park in Kansas if we’d ever know their names.

I think we should talk about that all the time and never stop letting them know we’re aware of it honestly 😂 I think that given all the advantages and given how gatekept Hollywood is, the literal least nepo babies can do is just own the truth that we can never ever ever know if without daddy they would have ever broken out.

[ask-the-rag-dolly]

Genuine question, how does one deal with someone being so insistent on their lack of (self-)worth? Not to vent too much, but I grew up with someone who was at least as bad, if not worse than Ragatha. I developed similar habits (this comic is a painful reminder of that) and my friends also tend to struggle with these feelings. But I never know how to deal with these issues, and it just leaves me feeling helpless.

I believe you‘re not a psychologist and it‘s fine if you don‘t want to answer this. But if you do have some advice or resources on this topic, I‘d love to know about it.

hi !

you're right , i am Not a psychologist ! my only credential is pretty much having it as my special interest of many years , so ... ! obligatory ' take this with a grain of salt ' disclaimer

i'm only answering this ask because i do like talking about these kinds of stuff ( in fact i'm in the middle of writing another psychology infographic with ragatha because of Course i am , ) and it's Relevant right now ... but for the most part i am literally just a stranger on the internet and thus i'll only be giving out general advice !! any specifics of the situation are stuff you'll need to figure out yourself

number one thing is that you should Always Take Care Of Yourself . it may be hard to admit , but these types of people can actually be Emotionally Draining - and i'm saying that as someone who had to deal with those people myself . and well you don't want to accidentally say things that make them feel worse

second thing is that a lot of it is ... really the other person's effort . all you can do is be supportive and gently encourage them . what took me so long to accept is that no amount of words or compliments will lift someone's self-esteem up - while it helps , it really has to come from Within , and that's something that'll take months or Years to build up . you can't force someone to start loving themself - and that's a hard pill to swallow

and the third thing is that ... well . there's a possibility that it could be a symptom of a mental disorder and thus you should encourage them to seek professional help . i am aware that the option is not available for everyone though , but i think recognizing that it might be a mental problem might take the burden off of you a little - as they're not really things a non-professional should handle .

as for resources , this article was extensive about this topic , including recognizing where the low self-esteem comes from , what Not to say to someone with low self-esteem , and tips that'll help the person ! very wonderful to read .

this article is for partners but i think it applies to people you're close with in general . what i like about it is how it Encourages open communication and listening . something you'll realize is that it's Different for everybody and it's good to learn more about the problem than jumping to a hasty solution or making assumptions . also it encourages them to talk more about their Feelings and talking about your feelings is what Very Cool And Hot People Do !

oh God sorry for the long post this should be enough to give me a diagnosis -

[veersnz]

News of a new Beginning

I am beyond exhausted right now but I wanted at least try and write something tonight. And where do I even begin… I’m overwhelmed by emotions right now, good ones I promise.

As today marks the day I finally graduated high-school. And some may wonder; « but Veer, you’re 22, how come you’re only graduating now ? »

The story is a little complicated but yes, I did start high-school just like everyone else my age over 8 years ago. 8 years ago was also when I started my recovery journey, and as with any journey, nothing is ever goes smoothly and to fulfill it I had to drop out of school. I tried my best over the years to go back and finish my education but I faced many challenges that made it nearly impossible. I managed to finish two of the three years of high-school over a period of 7 years between many hospital stays and periods of great difficulties. In my heart I knew I was getting too old to go back to high school, the gap between me and my peers was widening each year and with it grew the fear of going back, of feeling out of place, alone and crushed by the weight of my own expectations. I was raised believing my academic achievements made my worth and I’m sure many will relate to that, this fear of never being enough. So I almost made peace with never having the future I wished for. But truthfully, this future I had imagined for myself wasn’t mine, it was someone else’s dream. And I was left stranded on the shores of those wishes, not having the faintest idea of what my life would become. And I almost made peace with that.

I clung to those realizations until last September when I enrolled in this special needs school far away from my home. One last time, I thought, one more chance. I didn’t know what I wanted to do after that, if I even managed to stay until the end. But it didn’t matter, my family believed in me, so did my therapist and my friends, even after so many failed attempts they kept their faith intact. And this love, I think that’s what helped me make the decision.

So I took that leap of faith, got a small room and started living on my own for the first time while pursuing my education. I would lie if I said it was an easy ordeal, many obstacles came in my way and I almost gave up, many times. But with the help of my family, friends and the incredible people I met at this school I persevered. I am very aware of the incredible luck I had that September of 2023, being surrounded by so many loving and caring people. I couldn’t be more grateful. And you all count to, it may seem silly because this is « just a kink community » but I’ve met so many brave souls, incredible people and so much love even from afar. Having this positive presence in my life has brought me strength and respite sometimes from the outside world, even just for a moment sometimes. And for that I am eternally grateful.

And so after 11 months I am graduating with the highest honors and finally putting an end to this journey of 8 years. Of course the path to recovery will continue on, but I am turning to a new page of my life’s story and I couldn’t be happier and grateful. I’m still probably in shock and the realization will settle over me in the next few days. But today, today I know that I’ve reclaimed my future.

I know there will be many more challenges, uncertainty and pain to face but tonight I am basking in the happiness of having accomplished something my past self could only dream about. And I hope the parts of myself I left behind are proud of me.

Thank you ❤️

[whoishotteranimepolls]

You are aware that Ace and Sabo are brothers. That ship is incest. It would be best if you took it down because of how problematic that is

Warning, this turned into a rant

They are adopted/sworn brothers, so the ship is not technically incest.

If that ship bothers you, several One Piece ships should bother you in between adopted brothers or sworn brothers, but I have seen zero complaints. This includes Buggy/Shanks, those two were raised as brothers as far as we know, and Marco/Ace, who became sworn brothers. Remember, Ace joined The Whitebeard Pirates, AKA the Sons of Whitebeard. They all are sworn brothers. So let's please be coherent in your hypocrisy

Isn't this Tumblr? I can't be that old because I remember the heyday of Superwholock. The two most popular Supernatural ships were Destiel and WinCest. Remember, they were so popular that the Supernatural show even addressed this in its meta episodes. What the hell happened? And I remember the Ouran High School Host Club speech where the twins said the whole appeal behind them is when you have two attractive guys who struggle between their attraction and their friendship. Plus, because they're twins, it makes their relationship taboo so even more intriguing. So they were hyper-aware of what they were doing with their whole queerbating/twincest thing, and Tumblr ate that crap up.

It's one of those things where it's fiction, so it's not real, so it's okay because no actual person is being harmed by whatever problematic content is portrayed in whatever fictional media. I personally have zero problems with the most problematic content. But that doesn't include all problematic content. I do have lines when it comes to child characters and lollies. That's why there are rules on my blog. But I can also separate fantasy from reality, and if you can't, you probably need to talk to someone about that because that's a problem.

Again, seriously, what the hell happened to the fandom culture on Tumblr? Why are the moral purity police everywhere? I joined fandoms and Tumblr to escape the oppressive Bible thumpers that I grew up around. Why am I now encountering more oppressive moral policing online from fandom idiots than I do from the Church Karens in real life? I live in the conservative Bible Belt. Those Church Karens are everywhere and in everyone's business

Sorry for my rant. I am tired, and I'm still trying to figure out what the hell happened. I've been on Tumblr on and off since 2010, and I feel like I hardly recognize this community anymore. Now, I have been made aware of the anti-shippers/ anti-fandom movement, and I know it's not just a minor thing because this is something I have found multiple academic research papers on. I'll link a good one. But I pray it's something else cuz these are just kids who don't know better at the moment. I hope one day they will realize this behavior is the equivalent of the Boomers blaming all of the Gen Z and Millennial behaviors. They don't like on violent video games. Again, sorry for the rant

[tmntxthings]

一∑ Not Enough・゜・。

author’s note: i feel pretty meh about this but we posting anywayssss c: thank joji for this ! here’s to heartbreak and betrayal~~~

warnings: cursing, hurt + no comfort, angst to the max, unedited

word association: first love, relationships, broken trust, loneliness, betrayal, self-deprecation, doubt, emotional breakdowns

song inspired: “ Ew by Joji ”

—————————————————————————

First love.

Not a crush. Not a like. Those don’t come close. Those can’t compare. To the all-encompassing feeling that is love. Especially the first.

If Donatello had been aware of what would happen. Of the impact that it would leave. In this moment, he would say it is not worth it.

You…

His teeth bared at just the thought. He couldn’t think of you for one moment without a searing pain lancing through his entire being. Making his teeth ache and he found he was curling into himself. He straightened once he realized what he was doing.

Sitting wasn’t helping. He stood. Maybe going back to pacing would help. Help him to finally think. His eyes were to the floor. Watching his feet march a couple of paces here. Only to stop when he saw debris on the floor and to turn back the way he came.

Pacing.

He tried once more.

You… you’re.. his everything. His first real crush. His first kiss. His first love.

Of course the beginning with you had been a cliche, he had saved you. But that was one of the only ways he came into contact with humans. Maybe that’s what you had fallen in love with, a ‘hero.’ He was anything but that. He hardly felt up to par with his brothers. They were naturals. Wielding their mystic powers with ease while it was still a struggle for Donnie. But maybe that one heroic moment with him had been the reason why you fell so hard and so fast for him.

You had taught him a lot. He was never a vocal person. Not when it came to his emotions. You taught him to communicate better, better than Mikey had been able to. So much so that he had been able to confess a deep emotion like love to you. And you’d accepted him. Loved him back. For a time everything was great. You were around all the time. Nothing else seemed to really matter to Donnie. You were his world and he just circled around it. You continued to be his first for a lot of things. Time continued to pass by and his feelings for you never faded. They only grew stronger and that bond between the two of you would last forever.

Except.

It didn’t.

Unbeknownst to Donnie, your feelings had faded.

His pacing stopped. His eyes drilling holes into the ground before he forced his head to turn to his monitor. Ignoring the rest of the wreck. His heart started to race, in a sickening way that made him feel dizzy. He was looking at a you. His monitor held you.

And someone else. He felt sick as he forced himself to stare. The adoration pouring from your gaze as you held onto this..this stranger! His stomach rolled as he remembered what came after. What not even he could force himself to look at for a second time.

When you had said you “needed a break.” Donnie had thought it was because of school. That’s how you had made it sound. That you were stressed. You needed time alone. It had never sounded like a break up. In fact a kiss was shared between you two before you had left the lair that day. Reassuring him that everything was fine. That you weren’t leaving him. That you loved him more than anything. That this was just for you, and your health.

Donnie had distracted himself to not text you as much. To not call you as much. He still sought after you on social media though. He checked your location from time to time just to keep him from being restless with worry. It was especially hard when the days apart started to add up.

So when you had told him school was out for the summer…that you were out celebrating with friends.. he couldn’t stop himself. He just had to see you. Even if it was just for a moment. He’d tracked your location to some club. Had gotten on the roof to see that no you weren’t inside the building but on the side. Without even thinking Donnie had moved to the edge, moments from jumping down to make a grand entrance in front of you. Not thinking about the what-ifs of getting caught by other humans. He wanted to surprise you. To see that lovely smile light up your face as you took him in, maybe if he was lucky he’d get a kiss. He’d take anything you would give him.

The only thing that stopped him from jumping down was hearing your voice squeal someone else’s name.

Even then, Donnie hadn’t thought anything of it, just a change of plans, to not drop down but to text you saying ‘I’m here!’ or ‘Look up!’ or ‘Hang back for a minute.’

Then he looked over the edge and saw you pressed against the brick wall of the building he was on top of. Looking into the eyes of another with excitement, with anticipation, with love.

And kissing the stranger. Again. And again. And again. Over. And over. And over again.

He had staggered back. Shaking from head to toe as he tore off into the sky. Running away. Flying straight back home to ruin everything in his path. Mainly his lab. And when he could finally piece together two thoughts that weren’t to destroy shit. He already had the recording set up on his monitor. Paused on that look on your face.

He had fled the scene but as always he recorded everything. He couldn’t press play… he couldn’t. This image alone was painfully enough. In fact he had to turn away. Staggering back to his lone chair. It was one of the few things that survived his wrath.

“Fuck.” He croaked as he slumped over, elbows on his knees as his palms pressed into his eyes. Why was this happening? What had he done? You loved another?? He wasn’t enough??? Why had he thought he ever would be? What he didn’t understand was why you even bothered in the first place if this was to be the outcome.

Why had you taught him all of those things?

To love.

Pointless. It was all unbearably pointless.

Hadn’t he become someone more worthy? Now that he knew how to communicate properly and not shut down? To not crawl into his lab and sulk for weeks without speaking his mind? Why? Why. Why??? Why was he still not enough?

For some reason he had thought that love was unconditional. Undying. But it was a fickle thing. Something he now knew he couldn’t rely on. He would never make the same mistake again.

His eyes started to burn and he pressed the heels of his palms into them harder. He didn’t want this. If this was what he got for loving someone as much as he had loved you, he didn’t want it. It hurt. His breathing quickened, no matter how hard he pressed, tears leaked out, wetting his hands as he held back sobs. No. No. No.

And before he knew it the mantra couldn’t overpower his pathetic whimpers. Then it grew louder, more convulsive as the sobs turned to howls. This was worse than any physical pain. How would he be able to fix this. Was there a cure? He didn’t want to feel anything anymore.

After crying until he couldn’t, slowly he straightened in his seat. His tear ducts ached, the stains on his face burned, but it didn’t matter. He had cried so much, for so long, he was sure he would never do it again. Donnie stood, taking in the entirety of his lab. He’d have to clean up first. Then he could work on something. Anything. That would help. It always did. His wrist-tech vibrated, along with his monitor changing screens to show an incoming call from you.

He swiped it away.

He knew what a ‘break’ meant now. He didn’t need to hear you. He didn’t need your confirmation nor consolation. He didn’t need closure. He had lived without you before. He surely could do it again.

He fought against the pain that rushed forward. No he wouldn’t feel anything. He didn’t need you. It was all a sham. Another weakness that he couldn’t afford. He’d forget about this. About you. And he was sure one day he could convince himself this was all some stupid fever dream that he had made up to pass the time.

It would be like you never even existed.

Though it would never conceal the fact that he felt deficient. That he was lacking. That he was someone inadequate to love.

Deep down in the marrow of his bones he would always feel like he was never enough.

—————————————————————————

[boundinparchment]

Con Clavi - I

You serve the church of the Tsaritsa, under Father Pantalone. Faith is a gift you received long ago but a certain heretical Harbinger is determined to push those boundaries. Il Dottore/Female Reader. Eventual Pantalone/Female Reader. Reader is a Canoness/Nun. Inspired in part by straw-bunbun's Priest Pantalone art. Story is rated Explicit. Minors DNI. Religious symbolism, corruption, many many liberties, eventual smut. Dead Dove applies. Available on AO3 here.

You suppressed a shiver as you listened to the reading by the man standing at the pulpit.  This hour was always the most difficult, you found, not because of the service itself, but because it was always coldest just before dawn.  Of all of the hours of the Divine Office, Prime was, by far, the most tedious.

Those who wanted to stop in for service before they began their day of work did so and were scattered amid the pews.  

Father Pantalone continued on with a prayer concerning work and called for a blessing from the Tsaritsa for those whose safety would be compromised that day.  He treated Agents and miners as equals in his service; before the eyes of Her Most Holy, all were human, Hers to protect.

Your knees ached from genuflection, the wooden kneeler only marginally better than the stone beneath it.  There was no cushioning here.  Some said it was because the Father was a stingy miser; others claimed it served as a reminder that the Tsaritsa’s love was the true comfort.

After this, you would eat in silence before delving into a contemplative study for the morning.  Terce would be observed, and then you would begin your day.  

As a canoness, it was expected of you to take on a social service as part of your dedication. You spent most of your mornings and afternoons educating noble daughters in-between observations of the canonical hours.  

You felt more like a governess than a nun at times.  If not for your strong pull to the faith, you would have considered such a position.

Fate had other plans.

And it was better than nursing.

You needed the Father’s opinion on a particular student prior to their appointment, now that the thought crossed your mind.

As service wrapped up, you responded with the appropriate, “Glory to the Tsaritsa,” before the procession exited the sanctuary, accompanied by song.  

The Father usually waited in the narthex to see people off.  With so few in attendance, save the monastic communities, perhaps you would be able to speak with Father Pantalone early...that would save you the headache later.

You waited until the congregation cleared out and then made your way over to the golden-eyed priest, smoothing out your white tunic, the color expected of your order.  

“Good morning, Father.  May I have a word?” you asked.

“Blessing be upon you, sister.  What can I assist with?”

He always wore a smile, as he did now, one that fooled the common person into making a decision to put even their very last mora into the donation tray during mass.  Such an act would, to some, seem disingenuous, corrupt even.  It ensured that the church remained open.

Towards you, the gesture was an attempt to keep you from taking too much of his time.  If he were approachable at this hour, you would not seek him out again.

“One of my students was recently betrothed, as I’m sure you’re aware.”

“Yes, I gave approval on the match to both families.  The announcement should be out this week, Archons willing.  Is there reason for concern?”

His smile grew tighter as the words passed his lips.  A strange man, Father Pantalone; full faith in the Tsaritsa but a strange disdain for the rest of the pantheon.  Your revered mother once said that with the way he balanced the church’s books, one would think he worshipped Deus Auri (or Yanwang Dijun as you once heard used).

Usually the request you were about to make would have gone to the revered mother you served but both families supported the church financially.  They paid for the recent reinforced ceiling above your head and the doors that kept out the cold.

Doors that were pushed open by a single figure with a white cloak, bird-like mask over his eyes, and a vicious grin.  His blue hair was plastered with snow, which he trudged in without so much as a toe-tap.

Only Harbingers such as the Father himself wore martial bands on their cloaks, you knew.  And this man certainly wasn’t Tartaglia.

“Shut the door, Dottore.  You didn’t have to bring the weather with you,” Father Pantalone snapped, his smile dropping instantly.  “What are you doing here at this hour?”

The man you now knew as Dottore waved an errant hand and the front doors to the church slammed shut with a final gust of wind.  

“I’m heading back to the Palace after an examination of the northern chasm.  Surely even you wouldn’t allow a fellow heretic such as myself to freeze, would you?  Doesn’t everyone have a place among your flock, Father Regrator?”

He spoke with an arrogance that made your blood boil even more.  As if his interruption wasn’t enough.

The priest regarded the other man with exasperation and disdain, his authority immediately undermined.  It was well-known that Father Pantalone held the Tsaritsa in the highest regard, which most used to refute the rumors that he was nothing more than a money-hungry clergyman.  It was an accusation you never thought to be rooted in anything other than envy and spite.

But Lord Harbinger Dottore spoke with a level of certainty that only came with his position.

Father Pantalone turned his attention back to you, intent on ignoring Dottore, who was now looking up at the ceiling with a sharp-toothed snarl.

“Excuse my colleague’s interruption, Sister.  What were you saying?”

“The young lady wrote a recent essay regarding the duty of the faithful.  It was an interesting analysis on the purpose of marriage and how one might consider matchmaking to be an antithesis to fate.  Her family’s recent choice is clearly a source of contention.”

“A topic that you’re more than equipped to handle, Sister.  After all, you ran away from your own betrothal, did you not?”

You swallowed the dark desire to ask the Tsaritsa to damn him.  

“Something I’m certain neither family wishes for her to emulate.  It would be a shame for them to blame the church if that came to fruition.” The quick, humble save fumbled from your lips as your eyes darted between the Father and the other Harbinger.

Golden eyes disappeared in amusement as the priest gave a soft chuckle.

“I suppose you are correct, dear Sister.  I’ll speak to the Revered Mother about the matter.”

His tone was dismissive; you would receive nothing else from him and determined to escape higher political matters, you bowed and began to head out of the narthex.  You caught whispers before Father Pantalone’s voice rang out again, stopping you in your tracks.

“Sister, you are on your way to breakfast, are you not?”

You turned and regarded both men again.  Dottore’s obscured gaze was no longer on the ceiling but on you and you felt your skin crawl.  Anyone in service to the Harbingers, to the Tsaritsa in any capacity, knew of Il Dottore, the Second Harbinger of Eleven, and his unusual stance on the world.  

Completely unfaithful in the Seven, including the Archon he served, and yet he held a station only surpassed by Capitano.  He was outranked by empathy, some said, for the Captain was often willing to lend his strength to all who asked, provided their goals aligned.

“I am, yes, Father.”

“Please take our guest to the kitchens and see he leaves through the back entrance when he’s finished.  I would rather he not be seen coming and going from the front doors and not immediately combusting.  I have a schedule to keep but even I am not unkind to blasphemers.”

In any other capacity, you would have found his remark humorous.  Father Pantalone’s posture was rigid, his jaw tight, and although he smiled, nothing in his brow signaled he enjoyed nor believed the words that came out of his mouth.  

And you had no choice but to agree, even if it meant interrupting the usually silent breakfast, for Father Pantalone had already walked away.  Naturally.  You asked something of him; it was only expected he would ask something of you in return.

To Dottore, you said: “If you would follow me, Lord Harbinger.”

You led the Second Harbinger through the side corridors and back outside, along the covered walkways around a courtyard.  The sun had yet to rise, torches imbued with Pyro throwing shadows as you made your way to the kitchens.  Dottore stopped for a moment, and when you no longer heard a second pair of footsteps, you paused and turned to find him regarding the snowy courtyard, the fountain frozen.

The firelight made his shadow look like a hulking bird.

“Is your student wrong, in your opinion, Sister?” he asked.

“I’m not quite sure I understand your question, my lord.”

You did but you weren’t going to outright answer him.  Not when he was keeping you from the warm hall and your morning coffee.

“To consider an arranged marriage sanctioned and approved by the Tsaritsa to be an attempt to control fate.  That by your student not having a say in the matter, having no control over her life, her own fate is undermined?”

It was too early for this, you thought bitterly.  And Pantalone said too much in front of the wrong person.  Not the first time your own history slipped through during conversations it shouldn’t have.

“That would depend on whether one believes it is the Archons or Celestia who has control over fate,” you said at last.  “Archons interpret the Heavenly Principles but there is a divide on whether the Archons act on their own or Celestia can override their will and therefore they are nothing more than figureheads.  Either way, free will is…difficult to define.  Some find comfort in it; others prefer the idea that another power is in charge of everything.”

“Diplomatic, Sister, but not what I asked,” Dottore chuckled.  “I suppose I should expect as much from someone in Pantalone’s realm but you strike me as someone who has defined free will for herself.”

You suppressed a shiver as you watched a black bird, some kind of corvid that lived around here, flew from a nearby tree and settled into the snow.  It buried its head before it wiggled, covering itself as it played with the newly-fallen powder.

“One should have a say in the long-term decisions of their lives,” you replied.  “Marriage is one of those decisions.  Many know how to wield a hammer and nail two pieces of wood together.  Some can build houses.  Others simply rely on that skill to repair what needs to be fixed and leave it at that.  Faith should be a compass, a guidebook; nothing more than a tool by which to live.”

The corvid made a sound as it wriggled and hopped about, soon joined by its companions.  Here, the birds were well-fed and clever for it, often seen as blessings of the Tsaritsa for their playful and comforting nature.

Elsewhere in the nation, they were absolute menaces.

Your answer seemed to satisfy him, for Dottore’s chest rose and fell once, warm breath snaking from his nostrils as if he were a long-lost dragon.

He fell in step with you again and when you reached the kitchen, he left your side and settled in front of the fire almost immediately.  Attentive eyes fell on you as you spoke to the cook about making sure the Harbinger left through the service entrance.  

In silence, you brought a cup of coffee and a plate of food to Il Dottore.  The only acknowledgement you received was a silent turn of the head along with a slight nod.  

At least he had the decency to respect the atmosphere.

Normally, the smell of coffee and warm bread was enough to shake you from the cold.  You would have spoken softly about what others were reflecting on that morning, sought guidance on which verses might provide insight.

Not today.

The coffee tasted burnt.  The bread felt stale.  The meat was cold.

And too many people were watching.  As if they knew.

You left your hot drink unfinished and tucked the errant bread into your pocket.  As you wished your fellow Canonesses a good morning and departed, you felt ice bloom over your shoulders, unfamiliar and attentive.

As you passed the courtyard, you paused only long enough to break up the bread and feed the eager birds.  They fluttered and squawked, picking up the pieces eagerly.

This morning’s reflections would be tedious but worthwhile.  Reminders of why you came to the arms of the Tsaritsa to begin with.

[corwnvus]

explain your fav underrated marauders era character? and tag with #underratedmarauders

This is so difficult for me because I can talk about Evan all day but I am also getting into snapes gang and Avery is so interesting to me, despite this I am not 100%, confident with how I see him.

With evan rosier there isn't much in cannon about him so most of this is hc or things I have picked up from/taken inspiration from other cc.

To me the twins’ mother was always ill, a disease that made her muscle and bones weaken. The twins both have slight symptoms of the disease but evan never grew old enough to feel the full pain of it unlike his twin. evan resented his mother, he didnt understand her illness and had heard his farther opinion on her illness one too many times, the shame it brought, the weakness it showed.

His farther was a strict man, never physically abusive but never nurturing. The twins grew up swallowed by coldness. They Both thought it effected pandora more, her nervousness, her fear of the darkness or loneliness. They later realised that they were wrong. Evan grew distant from the household, his only connection to it was pandora and a servant boy who was his first crush. He didn't know it then but that is what it was, a crush.

pandora and evan’s bond was like no other, and it only strengthend when they left for school. the two were forced to communicate only with glances and minor facial expressions, their own language which was a mix of french and Hauas, and small touches. They weren't used to so many people, so many eyes watching them.

Evan made friends, or well people he could stand. He didnt feel close to most people. That was until he met a group of friends out side of those he hung out with at the end of 2nd year. Pandora introduced them as regulus, barty and dorcas. He had never been as connected to other people outside of his sister, this was new, this was fun but it became scary very quickly.

He became dependent on them, he craved validation from them, comfort and time, but most of all he craved being wanted. He became close to them so quickly he didn't know what to do with all these emotions. The problem came to a head when he started to have a small crush on the boy who became as close as a brother, barty crouch jr. He was everything evan wanted to be and somthing evan craved to have.

He didn't get him for a long time though. Bartys eyes were always on someone else or on regulus black, another boy he became close with. Regulus was everything he wasn't. Regulus was desirable.

This is what caused him to look around them, they were an odd number, he was the odd number. Pandora clung onto regulus, and barty and dorcas had a dynamic that no one could replicate, he always chose her and she always chose him. They were one of the same despite being so different.

This broke evan, he started to distance himself. Becoming friends with another group, snapes group. He quickly became friends with avery and mulciber. They are the ones who made him aware of a powerful darkness growing. He would talk endlessly with them about tge power they sought for, the power they deserved. He would try to talk to the other about it but he was always quickly shut down by them, the only one who ever had a slight interest in it was barty. They would wisper about it, about getting the mark, hurting people, gaining power.

Later on evan will find out the only reason barty was so interested in it was due to regulus being forced to take the mark. Regulus himself refused to let barty in, condemned him for being interested in it.

Evan tool the make as soon as he could.

The day evan took the make a lot happend. He found out about regulus' death, dorcas casted their friendship away due to the betrayal she felt and barty kissed him. Barty kissed him while crying. Barty kissed him while crying about regulus.

He never fully processed Regulus' death. To evan regulus was this God like figure, somthing that could not be touched let alone killed. He would lie in bed imagining how regulus died, if he died like a coward or died how evan imagined hero's died.

Losing pandora and dorcas was a whole new grief, somthing heavier as it wasn't dead, it would wiggle wrap around him as he suffocated in it. Losing his sister and his friend due to his own actions destroyed him. it killed him.

Evan took all he could get whether that was money, power or love. Evan only had barty for a few years and never fully. He was always sleeping with others, or touring regulus or dorcas. The only time Evan felt he had nearly all of barty was when he was on a mission.

It's poetic that Evan lost himself on one of the only missions barty wasn't with him for. He died having none of him.

Sorry If this was bad, I've never done anything like this before 😅

[heartfullofleeches]

Some background on my college yan and older neighbor reader because I love both very much

Tedric "Teddie" Jones- [he/they]

Teddie has always been a quiet and reserved guy. Sheltered by their parents due to difficulties at birth, Teddie would eventually receive his first taste of the macabre world as a young teen when a mishap at the local movie rent had him receiving a documentary on serial killers in the state instead of the age appropriate film his parents had picked for them. Saving all their allowance and birthday money to fuel their new obsession, now 23 year old Teddie Jones chemistry major is a horror fanatic, and has had vivid fantasies about tormenting those who have caused trouble in their life - but never the drive to commit such acts

Like many in the community, he avoided Reader when they first moved in per instruction of his parents. Through brief interaction over the years, he framed them as someone to be cautious of, though admired their independency and closed off nature. When rumors of their past began to pop up, he was the first to do some digging and his admiration only grew. The two wouldn't formally meet until one afternoon when his normally attentive parents forgot to tell him they had had the locks changed that very morning. Not wanting to be caught in the brewing storm, Teddie knocked on reader's door and asked if they could climb their fence to get to his backyard. Reader refused as they wouldn't be able to get over without a few scrapes and instead invited them inside to wait it out. With the way reader stared at him, a part of Teddie feared there was more to their generosity and lured him in with the gesture of kindness to add them to the growing roster of missing persons reports, but as soon as Teddie sat down they-

Just talked.

Reader asked how he was doing in school. How his parents were. They asked why he never used that skateboard they saw his dad bring home for him which Teddie had to bashfully explain he had fallen too many times for the idea of learning to be fun. It was the only time their expression changed during the conversation. They scolded him for giving up so easily and told him to bring it over if he ever got the chance. Within two weeks, Teddie had a new mode of transportation to and from school. When he asked why they helped him Reader said he reminded them a lot of themself when they were younger. Always afraid of the what-ifs and pain in spite of taking action. They didn't want him to end up like them at their age - alone with no one to turn to.

In that short timeframe, Reader became Teddie's rock. Whenever he had a problem they were who he fled to without a second thought. They shared their knowledge with him and in turn Teddie tried to be that same beacon of light for them they had been for him. He wanted to be their crutch, someone they could depend on in their darkest hour. Whenever he had thoughts of hurting others they always showed up in some fashion - encouraging them for his bravery or clutching their hands around his as the two drove a blade into the chest of their victim. They'd wash off in the shower together and Teddie would finally get to see more of their bedroom than just the glimpses he caught from his window. They'd lie together and with adrenaline still coursing through their veins, Teddie would finally know the warmth of another living being. They wondered if the kids would be reader's first as well. They dreamed they'd be each other's first in other ways, but would be fine with any outcome that ended with them both happy and in each other's arms.

Teddie is aware Reader sees them as someone to mentor which they use to their advantage to receive a taste of what their heart truly desires. They beg on their knees for dating practice so they can ask out someone they met at a party. Some make out experience would be nice too. Teddie works hard to someday become the person Reader can proudly call their own. They want to give Reader the youth they lost and take them heal their wounded heart to the world around them. The people in it can all burn for what they've done to them, but there's so much good the two can do together it all out weights the bad. If only they'd give him the chance.

"Reader"

Ranging somewhere from late 20s to early 30s- Reader was severely in high school for the hapless crime of being in the wrong place in the wrong century, Reader's misfortune only got worse as the one time they fought back to result in the head trauma and later death of a bully. At this point their harassment had escalated to borderline torture which left Reader with scars to this day. Through witness testimony and their injuries, Reader was not punished by the law by tradition means and instead sent away from the psychological damage they innocent caused.

Mostly free from their past, Reader could not return home after what happened and moved into a suburban neighborhood in a home owned by a distant relative who had passed and descendants who couldn't bother with the upkeep. Reader has made their peace, but is still haunted by ghosts and lessens their stress by avoiding relatively everyone. Well, mostly everyone. They take pity on the shy kid next door, seeing a reflection of themselves in him. When they heard they knock at their door they see a chance to right some of their wrongs and help the poor guy out. With their assistance, that quiet guy comes more out of their shell by the day and even managed to make a couple friends at their college. They couldn't be prouder.

Teddie still clings to their hip which puzzles them now that he has others who tolerate his company, but it's nice to have another voice in their barren fortress they call a home. Their age gap isn't too far off, but Reader can't help but find some of his mannerisms a little.. odd. Sometimes he waits on their porch like a lost puppy despite having a key, and he seems damn near obsessed with their love life which is pretty much non-existent. Must be just city things. They brush off his more outlandish queries and jokes that they'll kiss him if he gets a high enough score on his paper. The color drains from their face when the results are sent out and Teddie waits excitedly for their reward

[valtsv]

you said you grew up by the sea!! can i ask what the sea means to you? i am so emotional about the ocean i've always been so unspeakably fascinated and enamored by it

it's hard to describe because the ocean was such a constant presence that it was just kind of a part of life for me growing up. i didn't really realize how fortunate i was to have it so easily accessible until i lost it when i moved to the city.

i guess the best word to describe it would be "powerful". like i said, you could never forget that the ocean was There, even if you weren't standing anywhere near it. on days when the wind blew strongly enough in the right direction, you could hear it, and smell it. the smell of brine and seaweed was the backdrop of daily life for me growing up, and the town i grew up in was so small that whenever i left the house i was almost guaranteed to pass the ocean on my way to wherever i was going.

the danger of it was simultaneously something you quickly became desensitized to and something you never really forgot. there was always a part of you that knew that the sea could just take you at any time, no matter how careful you were. it wasn't uncommon to see a pile of flowers on the promenade as you walked by marking where someone had been washed out and drowned. pretty much everyone knew someone who had died despite the sea walls and warning signs. there were days when the waves were so strong that even the grey concrete walls that were several feet thick in the most reinforced places couldn't keep them from crashing over onto the walkways.

the beach was sand and stone, and the water was full of clouds of silt too thick to see through even with protective eyewear. you never knew how deep the water was beneath you unless your feet could touch the bottom, or what was down there. it was something you quickly got used to, the knowledge that you'd never be totally safe but were willing to take the risk. most people who got hurt or killed were, predictably, teenagers and young adults who decided to push the boundaries of how much of a risk they could take. i was one of those kids. most of us were. despite being all too aware of the danger, we never really believed that it would happen to us. at the same time, we knew we weren't immune. that's why we did it - for the thrill. i still have scars from all the times i was thrown against rocks and barnacles, stepped wrong while scrambling over rocks and slipped, or was scraped over the ocean floor. i still remember staggering and collapsing onto the shore with my heart pounding so hard my chest hurt after almost being swept out to sea, realizing how close i had come to being drowned or smashed to pieces. i remember shrugging it all off and heading back in five minutes later, accepting that the sea would take me if she wanted me and that there was nothing i could do about it, so i might as well enjoy myself.

knowing how to swim was basically mandatory, even if you never got in the water. if you could learn how to swim and didn't, you were a fool. the local swimming pool offered free lessons, and safety campaigns were a regular feature of school and community event. i could still recite some of the slogans and warnings to you now, they're so ingrained into my head (not that i didn't choose to ignore them sometimes).

small businesses thrived on the waterfront. there were so many cheap food places to choose from when you wanted a snack, from ice cream vendors to hot fried food vans to cafes and corner stores. people didn't even bother to put their clothes and shoes on over their swimwear to cross the road and grab a bite to eat on warm summer days.

body and gender neutrality was extremely normalized. nobody cared who you were or what you looked like; once you were in the sea the clouds of silt hid your body from view, and the water made everyone look more or less the same - like a sopping wet beast.

the natural environment was incredible. there was so much life everywhere - sea plants, crabs and smaller crustaceans, seabirds and fish. you could buy fresh catches each morning from local fishermen. sharks and seals were a rare novelty, a community event of sorts.

community events often made use of the seaside. sailing was easily accessible; even if you couldn't afford your own boat, there was a sailing club with a surplus. the local horse rescue volunteer association i worked at took the horses down to ride by the beach and in the water in summertime, and it was some of the most fun i ever had galloping through the waves, soaking wet and shivering with excitement and cold. there were bonfires on the beach in the fall, and fireworks and hot drinks and stories around the fireside in the winter. it was an incredibly, terrifyingly free place to live, where the only real limits were your own. i honestly can't do it justice in words. i miss it every day.