#i was raised in an anti apple household

[reasoningdaily]

yet they say the impact from the fire was not predicted to raise prices, and we can all see that the egg industry is raking in record profits this year. some are reporting more than 750% increase in profits. This is gouging which is why I wonder why the egg industry is doing this in america.

heres something we bet you never realized ?

Since Emancipation, agriculture has moved its focus from one labor source to another in response to shifting currents of populism, nativism and racism. All three benefit from the exploitation of minority populations, and all three justify policies of exploitation in economic terms.

Arizona prisons partners with one of the countries largest egg farms?

these folks not only make egg products, but only cost the state $3.00 per hour in labor. America is the shithole of ethics

read this,

Farmers turn to prisons to fill labor needs

With immigration numbers low, the agriculture industry looks to another form of disenfranchised workers.

American agriculture often depends on migrant workers, like the one pictured here harvesting corn in Gilroy, California. But the anti-immigration policies of the Trump administration have farmers turning to prisoners to harvest labor-intensive crops.

Prison inmates are picking fruits and vegetables at a rate not seen since Jim Crow.

Convict leasing for agriculture – a system that allows states to sell prison labor to private farms – became infamous in the late 1800s for the brutal conditions it imposed on captive, mostly black workers.

Federal and state laws prohibited convict leasing for most of the 20th century, but the once-notorious practice is making a comeback.

Under lucrative arrangements, states are increasingly leasing prisoners to private corporations to harvest food for American consumers.

Why now?

The U.S. food system relies on cheap labor. Today, median income for farm workers is $10.66 an hour, with 33% of farm-worker households living below the poverty line.

Historically, agriculture has suppressed wages – and eschewed worker protections – by hiring from vulnerable groups, notably, undocumented migrants. By some estimates, 70% of agriculture’s 1.2 million workers are undocumented.

As current anti-immigrant policies diminish the supply of migrant workers (both documented and undocumented), farmers are not able to find the labor they need. So, in states such as Arizona, Idaho and Washington that grow labor-intensive crops like onions, apples and tomatoes, prison systems have responded by leasing convicts to growers desperate for workers.

The racist roots of convict leasing

Since Reconstruction, states have used prisoners to solve labor supply problems in industries such as road and rail construction, mining and agriculture. But convict leasing has also been a powerful weapon of white supremacy, and now, anti-immigrant sentiment.

After Emancipation, southern economies faced a crisis: how to maintain a racial caste system and a supply of surplus labor now that blacks were free.

Southern states passed vagrancy laws, Black Codes, and other legislation to selectively incarcerate freed slaves. For example, under Mississippi’s vagrancy law, all black men had to provide written proof of a job or face a $50 fine. Those who could not pay were forced to work for any white man willing to pay the fine — an amount that was deducted from the black man’s wage.

During the late 1800s, mass incarceration created an army of cheap labor that could be leased to private businesses for substantial profit. In 1886, state revenues from leasing exceeded the cost of running prisons by nearly 400%. Between 1870 and 1910, 88% of convicts leased in Georgia were black. In this Library of Congress photo from 1903, juvenile convicts are shown at work in the fields, location unknown. Library of Congress/Detroit Publishing Co.

Populist response

But cheap convict labor also suppressed wages for free whites, and by 1900, poor whites began pushing back.

In 1904, James Vardaman was elected governor of Mississippi on a platform of returning whites to work and blacks to confinement. These populist white supremacist sentiments dovetailed with national economic concerns during the Great Depression, when agricultural failures led to widespread unemployment.

In the 1930s, the Ashurst-Sumners Act and accompanying state laws prohibited convict leasing and the sale of prisoner-made goods on the open market. Inmates still worked in agriculture, but the food they produced had to be consumed by other prisoners or state workers.

By the late 1970s, with growing competition from foreign manufacturing, U.S. companies sought out domestic sources of cheap labor.

Under pressure from corporate lobbies like the American Legislative Exchange Council, Congress relaxed restrictions on convict leasing with the Justice System Improvement Act. As the manufacturing and service sectors began hiring prisoners, agriculture expanded its use of migrant workers.

Profit and exploitation

Today, convict leasing offers significant revenues for prisons.

Most wages paid to inmates are garnished by prisons to cover incarceration costs and pay victim restitution programs. In some cases, prisoners see no monetary compensation whatsoever. In 2015 and 2016, the California Prison Industry Authority made over $2 million from its food and agriculture sector.

Growers can reap significant revenues, too. Inmates are excluded from federal minimum wage protections, allowing prison systems to lease convicts at a rate below the going labor rate. In Arizona, inmates leased through Arizona Correctional Industries (ACI) receive a wage of $3-$4 per hour before deductions. Meanwhile, the state’s minimum wage for most non-incarcerated farm workers is $11/hr.

Beyond the unfairness of low wages, inadequate state and federal regulations ensure that agricultural work continues to be onerous. Laborers endure long hours, repetitive motion injuries, temperature and humidity extremes and exposure to caustic and carcinogenic chemicals.

For inmates, these circumstances are unlikely to change. U.S. courts have ruled that prisoners are prohibited from organizing for higher wages and working conditions – though strikes have occurred in recent years.

Furthermore, inmates are not legally considered employees, which means they are excluded from protection under parts of the 1964 Civil Rights Act, the Equal Pay Act, the Fair Labor Standards Act, the National Labor Relations Act and the Federal Tort Claims Act.

Excerpt from minutes of the regular meeting of the Texas Penitentiary Board, Nov. 12, 1903.

Whose labor is being sold?

The total number – and racial makeup – of leased inmates is difficult to calculate. Not all prison systems report on farming operations or leased labor arrangements. According to one advocacy group, at least 30,000 inmates work within the food system. But to the extent that convict leasing reflects overall inmate demographics, prison agriculture is distinctly racial.

Blacks make up 39% of inmates, but only 12% of the general population, making blacks six times more likely than whites to be incarcerated. Over the last 50 years – the same period that saw the return of convict leasing – the black incarceration rate quadrupled.

Proponents of “prison industries” argue that leasing provides rehabilitative benefits like on-the-job training for reentry. But research shows that within the prison system, whites receive better jobs than blacks, with better pay and more beneficial skills.

Whereas migrant workers often benefit home communities by returning a portion of their wages as remittances, the garnishing or nonpayment of convict wages prevents inmates from contributing to their families and home economies.

Since Emancipation, agriculture has moved its focus from one labor source to another in response to shifting currents of populism, nativism and racism. All three benefit from the exploitation of minority populations, and all three justify policies of exploitation in economic terms.

Convict leasing is the first – and now the latest – strategy.

[laisai]

I can see one big problem for some people, esp families, to migrate from Apple -- their photos. Google photos is fine but I have no idea how it compares to Apple and how they transfer. Personal data like that are probably one of the biggest reasons people hold back.

Also Apple's line about how everything "just works" is BS because once something breaks you cannot fix it. And these days Windows and Android are perfectly accessible for less tech-focused people.

And just to make it clear why Apple's insistence on being the only one to repair their products is not consumer-friendly, my last three laptops all either needed an upgrade or some hardware fix at some point, because I wear out computers faster than most people.

All I had to do was unscrew the back and I had access to everything. One laptop was just missing screws; I got some from a local computer repair guy and he even tried to give it to me free lol.

Another one, I took out the RAM from my old laptop and stuck it in the new one because it was the same brand and speed etc. (don't do this if you don't know computers tho; at least check on youtube or read up a little. but general advice is buy ram in pairs and put both in together bc they need to match.)

RAM is literally one of the easiest things to upgrade or replace. My dad showed me how when I was eight. I did it and it was fine. And boom, my computer doubled in RAM without paying for extra. I was able to reuse parts from my old laptop and now my new laptop could run much faster and have more programs open at the same time. (RAM can sometimes extend a computer's life for a few years if your computer is slowing down.)

I took out the hard drives from my last two laptops and stuck them in a case with a usb cable. It cost like 13$ and the instructions were literally just, unscrew and snap in. Now I have one external hard drive with all my old files (and one new hard drive I stuck in my new laptop; I have triple the space without paying hundreds extra)

Also, my new laptop unfortunately has no cd/dvd drive. New laptops are mostly removing them, which is sad bc I have all the LOTR extended editions on DVD. So I took my old computer, unscrewed the cd drive, got a cable off amazon and boom, new usb cd drive for like 5$. And it's not going into a landfill. I'll probably need to get a box to house the cd drive at some point, since it does vibrate a bit, but for now, using it sparingly, it's perfectly serviceable.

Apple's way of doing things is not only anti-consumer by hiding all the computery bits from you, to make you think certain aspects of computer hardware are more mysterious and difficult to understand than it is, it is also anti-ENVIRONMENT.

You can't easily salvage Apple parts from old Apple devices. You can't reuse or recycle them because they can't be easily taken apart. It's ridiculous and they want to keep you, their consumer, unaware of how much power and ability you really do have in relation to your tech.

A lot of reluctance I see from older adults and my AFAB friends is because of people trying to make this shit confusing so they can keep their jobs (and also ageism and sexism). And for actually thorny issues it is better to pay a professional. But so many simple things can be done by yourself -- by a child who's got decent fine motor control even.

Don't buy Apple. They want you to think you're dumb and they also don't care that they're contributing to tech waste.

I am sorry. I’m bashing Apple here. And for good reason.

This is a plea to my followers.

Stop buying Apple products. I know you’ve used them for most of your life, and I know it’s inconvenient to move to a new brand because in most cases, you cannot take your contacts with you on various chat apps.

I know this is inconvenient. I truly do.

But Apple is not the company it was before. There is now no difference between an Apple computer and a Windows computer in terms of graphic design. I know this for a fact. I had to use both in college 20 years ago, and non-apple computers are now generally better for design work than Apple computers.

Most non-apple companies encourage self-repair of your own devices, while Apple refuses it. I also know this for a fact, as I watched Apple computers become slowly less reparable through the late 90s and early 2000s. Where I was once able to do the repairs on our office computers, we had to start sending out our Apple devices because they started gluing things down on their logic boards. Notably the glue they used was not heat-resistant and led to device damage should the heat sink system fail. But they did this because they wanted to dig more money out of their customers.

Apple software is also designed to fail. I cannot believe people are still buying new devices after the scandal where Apple was slowing their phones in order to force people to purchase new versions.

Apple hardware is designed to become obsolete. Motherboards and logic boards are designed to hold exactly what comes attached to them and will fail if upgrade attempts are made.

Apple refuses to work with software developers despite promises of cross-compatibility. One of the very first coding problems I discovered was to discover a gigantic hole in a software program that made a plotter (giant printer) compatible with iOS. This caused a memory leak, leading to necessary resets of the computer after every 2 feet of printing.

I know that it’s not possible for most of you to just throw your devices away and buy a new one. I wouldn’t be able to do that, either. But eventually there will come a time when you have to upgrade, and I encourage you to take the plunge and purchase a non-apple device. I don’t even have a recommendation for you because literally anything is better than Apple. A rock that you write on is better than an Apple phone.

Unfortunately I expect to be shadow-banned on Apple devices because of this, and I’ll try to report on decreased activity as much as I can.

It’s time to stop trying to beg Apple to change. They won’t. It’s time now to just stop supporting Apple.

[godisdisappointed]

TRIGGER WARNING: DRUG USSAGE, M//RIJUANA, swearing prolly

MHA CAST HIGH IMAGINES

dont do drugs kids :)

fvdhdkwncutwvncolwpa dhhshs mmmm

Sorry, it was under my leg while we were laughing our asses off.

Hey :) It’s 1 am and we’re high.

I’m adding another admin on this account they’re super sexy hot and magsnsisficent. Beautiful secy amazing hit!

OKAY OKAY

The MHA cast high.

@/xinrukii on instagram ^^——————————————————————————

We’re so high, one of us will have to edit this in the morning or sum.

Izuku Midoriya -

He always has munchies. Will be hunched over in the kitchen.

He’s noticeably calmer. This is the most relaxed you’ll ever see him.

Hates being groggy the morning after. So he only really smokes when he can sleep in the next day. He had only been smoking since he met you. So it’s still a taboo.

Midoriya is the type to reveal his deepest feelings high and completely on accident. He loves you and his friends so much.

He is so panicked when people green out. If you were to throw up he would genuinely pass out.

Overall weed experience - 7/10

Katsuki Bakugou -

Also a snacker. Him and Midoriya are fully able to empty a pantry.

Relatively shitty high. He is calmer but still on edge just enough that it’s not all that fun. Weed is like a last resort for him.

Zones out, will stare at the wall, and will scare the shit out of people.

Only smokes alone or with you, because he knows he can get unpredictable when he smokes.

Bakugou has a low tolerance and often times has coughing fits.

Bakugou is of course worried but he’s bakugou so. He will nag at you for greening out. Of course while giving you water and the care you need but he would still do it.

Overall weed experience - 2/10

Shoto Todoroki -

He didn’t start smoking until he met you and he honestly didn’t think he would like it. Being raised in a very anti-drug household he experienced it to not be as good as it was.

Super giggly when he’s high. The type to say ‘apple’ then sit back and laugh for like 5 minutes.

He isn’t one to go out of his way to get food but if you offer it to him, he will eat it all.

Todoroki ends up enjoying the fuzzy feeling a lot. So he smokes at least every weekend.

When he’s high with you, its a shit storm of laughter. You two bounce off of each others jokes until you can’t breathe.

You know how Edward reacts to Bella being pregnant, that’s what todoroki is like when you green out. He is zoned out and incredibly still.

Overall weed experience - 8.5/10

Ochako Uraraka -

Honestly was scared of ouid, she decided to try it when she saw you and her friends having fun.

The first time she smokes she gets paranoid and starts to freak out.

The times after that you supervise her so she doesn’t FUCKING DIE

When she finally gets comfortable, she mainly ends up being sleepy. Snacks and then sleeps.

Definitely giggling to herself in a corner wondering what the fuck is going on.

Had a really bad experience but got comfy and now smokes every other weekend.

She isn’t panicked but she wouldn’t be sure what to do when someone greens out. She would try to help but it wouldn’t do much.

Overall weed experience - 6.5/10

Tenya Iida -

When he finds out you’re smoking at first he’s like 😲☹️

Walked in on you high and you were so vibey that he was willing to smoke with you .... :)

Just a zoned-out high.

Kind of just sits there looking focused.

Wakes up with mfing amnesia- he’s like “we did what?”

He hates cottonmouth so he’s just HYDRATES.

Like 10 water bottles type shit.

He RARELY smokes, like once every 2-3 months.

The first time you green out, iida almost has an ‘I told you so moment’. He helps you and you do smoke again but not after a very long tolerance break.

Overall weed experience - 6/10

Eirijou Kirishima -

Smoked before you, but just to vibe with sero and denki.

So maybe like once every couple weeks.

He’d probably purposefully catch you smoking, because he already knew you did, and wanted to invite you to seshes.

Now that you mutually smoke, you guys smoke together ALL THE TIME.

Like full on stoner type shit.

He is SO GIGGLY.

He is FUCKING GIDDY.

He’s like “oooo I luv uuuuu, I luv u so muchhhhh.”

You’re just like :o

HE IS SO SO WORRIED WHEN SOMEONE GREENS OUT. Like he’s shaking. Him and sero are at your side like guard dogs until your better.

Overall weed experience 9.9/10

Denki Kaminari -

He’s like WHEEZING he’s laughing so hard.

HES LIKE GASPING for air, you’re genuinely worried. You’re like “dude.”

HORNY.

Wants the cooch like please. A crumb. A sliver. Please shawty.

You guys smoke as mush as humanly possible.

In between classes. In class. Aizawa catches you multiple times. You don’t care, ur in luv. <3

Will steal your shit, say goodbye to your mfing granola bar.

Denki would try and help when someone greens out but because he’s usually with Kirishima and sero he just kinda steps back.

Overall weed experience - 8/10 (you guys hella need a tolerance break)

Hanta Sero -

MY BAE. MY SHAWTY. THE LOVE OF MY LIFE. Sero 🤤

He’s so incredibly nice and vibey when he’s high.

he’s JUST like a mom stoner. He is always loaded with snacks and drinks. He also does not judge you when you cough.

He has planned tolerance breaks and will get most of the group to do it with him. He is so worried when he finds out you or denki skipped one. The smoke seshes after are always the best though.

He always comes PREPARED for cuddles. His bed is unbelievably comfy and he’ll literally hold anyone who wants it.

He just loves the feeling of being high and his friends make it special.

He also low key gets on horny high spurts. Like a couple of days where it’s pure horndog then he’s good for like the rest of the week.

He is SO worried when people green out. Will hold your hair back and like force you to consume water.

Obviously he has faults and will smoke A LOT in between tolerance breaks. Is high at any chance he has UNLESS on a tolerance break.

Overall weed experience - 10/10 :)

[imma-potatoo]

Roman + interrogation as a sequal to the Remus + framed fic perhaps?

Holy shit this took a long time... It's hurt/comfort tho

@badthingshappenbingo

Send me a prompt with a character! No romantic prinxeity, r*mr*m, U!Janus or U!Logan please!

Masterpost Takes place after this fic

Warnings: blood, shouting, arguing, child abuse (in passing), mentions of death (in passing), swearing, crying (It's a baby), bolded text, U!Roman, not taking care of yourself?, ask to tag

Words: 4k

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Red Eyes

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It had been a mouth.

It had been a single mouth from when Patton opened the yellow side’s door and saw his new friend slaughtered beyond recognition. The door was still there. Blood still stained his carpet, dust collected on his items because they didn’t have the heart to pack his things away. His name became a word that was never said, never whispered, never hushed. But it was always thought. They couldn’t go a single day without imagining his smile, or his laugh, or how his scales gilded against his cheekbones with the smooth grace that shouldn’t be humanly possible.

He was beautiful. But beauty is often destroyed by people who process envy in their hearts.

Even now, as Patton tried to convince a cranky baby to eat his damn apple sauce, he still thought of the yellow side.

Patton let loose a heavy sigh as he put the bowl down with a click on the highchair. Anwir wouldn’t stop crying, the small side was letting loose heartbreaking sobs as he banged on the flimsy plastic tray, his face turned up in a sour expression.

Patton sniffled, his eyes clouded with tears and bright red from a round of crying a few hours ago. “C’mon kiddo… you gotta eat something! Growing snakes like you need food!” Patton’s pleas fell upon deaf ears as the child only cried harder. Patton huffed, playing with the full spoon in his hands. “Anwir…. please?” 

The child didn’t even spare him a glance. Only screaming louder. Patton rested his head against the table, letting a few sobs escape as the hatchling screamed his heart out.

To be fair towards the cyan side, he hadn’t raised a child for a good two decades. Logan was the last toddler in the light household, and he was a lot easier to deal with than Anwir. Logan just wanted toast with a bit of Crofters on top of it. That was it. All he wanted. Anwir refused to eat anything that wasn’t up to his standard and this child was very picky. His food cannot be touching, absolutely no green beans, anything bitter was a no, not to mention his insisting that his food cannot be boiled under any circumstances.

Patton had completely collapsed to the table, the only sound being the baby’s cries and the occasional sniffle from him.

“Uhhh, you alright there popstar?” Patton raised his head, ears full of cotton as Anwir continued his protests, the right side of his face a bright red compared to his yellow scales, although the scales did have the occasional blue one mixed in with the buttercup color. Virgil stood in the doorway, phone in his hand. His eyes flickered momentarily to the baby, “What’s wrong with the child?”

Patton sighed, glasses fogged as he spared a glance to Anwir, “he won’t eat his food and has been crying for half an hour. I don’t know what to do! I tried giving him an orange!” Patton looked back to the screaming child in a Stitch onesie, “which he threw on the ground….” 

Virgil huffed a small laugh as he snatched Anwir from the highchair, “Maybe he needs a nap.” Anwir was squirming in Virgil’s hold, bitter noises leaving the smaller side, “huh, that’s not…. Normal…”

Patton stood and walked next to Virgil, the two locked concerned eyes as they looked at deceit Anwir. “We need to get Logan,” Patton muttered under his breath as he bolted up the stairs to find the logical side.

Virgil bounced the tiny side while trying to quiet his tears, “sh, sh, it’s ok Anwir.” The purple side paced back and forth, eventually leaving the kitchen to take the side to the living room. Anwir was normally fussy, but not like this.

Virgil sat on the couch, placing the side on his lap, “What’s with you today?” Virgil bounced the ten-month-old on his leg as he waited for Logan and Patton to come back, humming the same lullaby that Ja- that he used for him.

Logan and Patton were back in less than five minutes, Logan looked like he was torn from his work (if the pencil behind his ear was any indication) Logan huffed a breath and looked at Anwir.

All of them had different ways to cope with his death. Patton threw himself in completely into caring for the newest member, even sacrificing his own health to tend to the child. Virgil locked himself in his room, only occasionally coming down to take care of Anwir while Patton was sleeping. Roman pretended everything was ok, the red side was always seen with his signature smile and witty comments. Logan dived into his work, hardly able to look at the new side. And Remus… no one knew what Remus was up to. Nor did they care, Remus was the entire reason he was gone.

Anwir hissed, hissing was a new thing, and he only did it when he was in pain. Logan raised an eyebrow, “Did he fall off the couch again?” grimacing at Patton’s disagreement.

“No, he’s been with me all morning… well! Roman did take him for a walk earlier!”

Logan nodded as he reached forward, unzipping the onesie that covered the scaled child. Tears leaked down Anwir’s face as the other three side’s eyes widened with horror and anger.

Bruises ran down the child’s ribs, colors of fuchsia, a deep puke yellow that was speckled underneath red splotches, followed by small cuts all over his chest. A single scale was ripped from its place. Streams of blood flowed down Anwir’s chest from the ripped out scale, it was close to his skin on the other half of his body. Meaning that a portion of skin was brought with the scale when it was torn out.

The three felt anger bubble in their stomachs. This wasn’t Remus. It couldn’t be Remus. Remus was locked away in the dark.

But here is the newest member of the family, with cuts and bruises covering his flesh. Eyes filled with tears and a look of betrayal. This child had trusted so much, wide eyes that wanted to learn everything, see everything, touch things that he was meant to leave alone. And now he was covered in blood and bruises. Just like Janus.

Anwir’s existence meant a tragic end for a friend. But it also meant a new chance. They loved Janus, but he had problems. He trusted little, he hid things, he put others' health before his own under the guise of doing his job. Anwir was a chance to make things right. And someone ruined it.

Patton gritted his teeth as Logan ran to get the medkit. Thoughts ran through his mind over who it could be. It wasn’t Virgil, Logan, or him. Roman wouldn’t do something like this… would he?

Logan started to bandage Anwir’s wounds, pressing a kiss to the child’s forehead between each bandage, causing the child to giggle as he reached for Logan’s glasses. Patton chewed on his lip before making his decision, sparing Virgil a glance. The purple side nodded as Logan fought the baby for his glasses back.

“Roman! Kiddo! Come down here!”

Angry footsteps were heard from upstairs. A door slamming only caused the baby to cry once again, Patton looked back towards Virgil and Logan.

Logan was chewing inside of his cheek, his eyes slightly glazed over with tears as Anwir screamed when the anti-septic hit his wounds. Virgil was pacing back and forth, unsure what to make of the situation.

It was a few seconds later when the boastful prince walked down the steps with annoyance, his feet dragging against the wooden steps and his breath heavy. Roman hit the last step and turned to face the father figure, “What?” Roman hissed through his teeth with a sneer.

Patton steeled his expression and drew a steady breath. “Logan, take Anwir to his room and then come back please.” The blue side nodded and picked up the crying child and carried him up the stairs. The cyan side noticed the glare that Roman gave the yellow child.

Patton locked eyes with Roman, his son, he raised Roman from the very second he split from the King. “Where did you take Anwir on your walk?”

Roman raised an eyebrow and leaned against the banister, “I took him to the forest in the imagination. He liked the squirrels.” Roman shifted his gaze over to Virgil, only to be met with cold eyes, “why do you ask padre?”

Patton drew a slow breath, he had to keep calm. “What did you and Anwir do on your walk?”

Roman furrowed his brows in thought, his posture was rigid, burning green eyes bore into the fatherly side, “I don’t think you need to know that, pops.”

Silence spread throughout the living room, Logan came back down but the quiet didn’t break. The clock ticked on the wall, filling the quiet room with an ear-shattering noise. Cyan, blue, and purple eyes bore into green ones. Time fell away as loud crying could be heard from the child’s nursery.

Patton sighed, “Vir-”

“I’ll get it, Patton,” Logan shot a dirty look towards Roman before he left the room.

The room stayed quiet for a few minutes. A treaty of stillness, before Patton broke it, “You killed him, didn’t you?”

Roman took his eyes off the carpeted floor, “Of course I didn’t! What a ridiculous accusation! I would never take Janice away from us!” Roman’s composure was growing sloppy, far too cheerful, his green eyes showed too much happiness for someone just accused of murder.

“You can drop the act dude. We saw what you did to Anwir.” The purple side stood stiff, his eyes glowing with hostility, “You can’t possibly think that we’re buying that ‘he did that to himself!’ when he can barely even walk yet.” His voice leaked the mocking tone as he took fast-paced steps to the red side, “ADMIT IT. YOU KILLED HIM. YOU KILLED JANUS.” Virgil was inches away from Roman’s face, his canines bared as he hissed his threat in the red side’s face

Roman pushed Virgil back, his facade not even wavering as the purple side stumbled, “NO! I didn’t fucking kill the snake!” he pushed his hair back into its position, combing back fly-aways. “I mean- Come on emo! Would I do such a thing?”

“We know what you did Roman!” Patton’s voice was cracking, tears filling his eyes, “We saw Anwir’s bruises! You were the only other one to be near him today! We kn-”

“Well, maybe you killed him! Huh! With all that guilt-tripping you do, I wouldn’t be surprised if you killed the asshole because he didn’t fit your “perfect family” I bet you put those bruises on the brat too!”

Patton choked on his voice, tears sprang to his eyes as he stumbled backward. “Wh-what?”

“Roman!” Virgil growled as the red side pushed down a smirk

“What?! If we’re going to be blaming the innocent here then we might as well look at someone who spent more time with Deceit than anyone else! Not to mention that he has been Anwir’s primary caregiver! He could have killed Janus and given Anwir the cuts when no one was around! There’s plenty of knives to rip out that scale too!” Roman could feel his pride building, his hubris starting to sour towards the clouds.

“Cuts?”

And like Icarus, Roman fell.

“Duh! He has like twenty cuts running down his chest.”

“Roman. We never mentioned him having cuts, let alone on his chest. Or that one of his scales was ripped out either” Virgil narrowed his eyes, he ground his tongue against his canine.

Roman faltered, “I-”

Patton wiped his eyes, “just admit it kiddo. You killed him.”

Roman blinked, he focused back on the carpet. Blinking as he realized what we had just admitted to. His crocodile tears melted away as he smiled and pulled himself higher. “Fine. I did it. I killed him.” Roman looked straight into Patton’s eyes, “Is that want you wanted?”

The red side started to pace back and forth, a manic grin spread on his face, “And you wanna know something? I would do it a million times! I would pay anything to see the fear spread into the “Great Janus Sanders” eyes again!” Roman breathed deep and let loose a small laugh, “You don’t get it… Janus was bad for Thomas! He’s a liar! Liars are never good! yoU JUST NEED TO SEE THAT!” Roman screamed, his voice carrying across the house, “I’M HIS HERO! I’M HIS HE-”

The thunk of a duffle-bag hit the bottom steps, landing right at Roman’s feet and stopping his lies. Roman looked up to see Logan at the top of the stairs, holding Anwir in his arms. The child was now dressed in a new onesie and now had a stuffed frog in his grip. Logan however had tears leaking steadily down his cheeks as he rubbed the child’s back in a soothing manner

Anwir was trying to give Logan his frog for his attempt to comfort, “Fra!”

“Frog.” Logan corrected the child without having to think of it as he descended the steps.

Logan stopped in front of Roman, “Your stuff is in the bag. Get out. I refuse to have a murderer in this household.

Roman blinked, mouth gaping open slightly, “Lo! C’mon nerd! You don’t mean that!” Roman reached forward to touch Logan on the shoulder, his expression turning sour when Logan backed up out of reach, “Loga-”

“Just go!” Anwir looked at Logan and brought his frog to his mouth as Roman grabbed the bag.

“And where am I gonna go?! Huh? Where Logan!?” Roman growled as his eyes flickered to the other two sides.

The blue side looked down to the child in his arms, “I don’t care. Go to the darks, you’re certainly close enough in your… tactics. Or go live in the imagination, you have an entire castle there” “Fra!” “Yes Anwir, frog.”

Roman furrowed his brows as he threw the bag over his shoulder. The door was slammed shut seconds later.

Logan rubbed his eyes as he walked up to the group, “Logan. You alright dude?” Logan looked up at Virgil. 

The blue side nodded, “We need to go get Remus.” The other two mumbled agreements as they sunk out.

The four sides popped up in the dark side. True to its name, it was well, dark. Pictures were scattered everywhere. Virgil knelt, a small smile spreading to his face as he stared back at purple and green sides attempting to bake a cake for a yellow side’s birthday.

They continued down the hallway, Anwir clinging to Logan’s tie as they walked, his eyes growing heavy. They passed an orange door on their trek, covered in padlocks, the group exchanged looks but left it alone to continue to the living room.

The group of four made it to the living room. Remus sat on the floor, tears streaming down his face as he repeatedly pushed a needle through fabric. Over and over. Mumbling words under his breath as the needle drew the thread through yellow cotton.

Remus seemed to be working on a tapestry. It was large, almost the size of the entire living room, it was divided into different panels; eight total.

The first panel was complete. It consisted of a small child alone in a dark house, yellow scales spread on the otherwise featureless face of the main subject. His clothes were torn and slightly ragged as he covered his head, tears leaking down on the subject’s face. Dark shadows whispering in his ears.

In the second, the side seemed slightly older. His posture was less scared and more unsure as he helped a smaller child up, leading him somewhere. The smaller one was covered in red and a sickly green color, tears leaking down steadily. The yellow side was still young, maybe seven at the most, but it was clear that all he wanted to do was care for the green side. The green one had a face. Two red eyes filled with fear, lips curled into a cry as he reached for the side

In the third, the yellow figure was older, clearly, a teenager, and now had a long scar coming from his ear to his mouth. He was holding a purple blanket in his arms. Beside him walked the eccentric green figure, who was practically clinging to his arm in every step. The erratic green side had an ear to ear grin while they walked.

The next stood three figures. All adults. The yellow one in the center, green on his left, purple on his right. The two of them that had faces seemed happy, smiles on their faces as they looked at the yellow figure. They were proud. And happy too. But you could see with a few stitches of white thread, the hesitance in the purple one’s eyes was subtle but prevalent.

The next panel seemed to be the end of the happy tale. The yellow side was crumpled to the ground, the black shadows swarming the figure one again in bitter mockery of when they were a child. His clothes weren’t torn but wrinkled beyond repair as tears shone down his scales. Wine bottles scattered by his feet, his face a slight gray tone as the scales grew darker. In his hands, a striped gray sweater.

Remus was still sewing the sixth panel. His hair a mess as he rocked back and forth, tears flowing down his cheeks as he pushed the needle through the fabric. The entire tapestry was made of mainly yellow, black, green, and purple thread. With the occasional wisp of orange. Blood flowed down the green side’s fingers, picked from the needle, and stabbed raw from his repeated actions.

The shadows in the room downcasted on the side, the red gleam in his eyes glowing slightly as he continued his muttering. He didn’t even acknowledge the four new sides in the room, only continuing his swaying and muttering under his heavy breaths.

“Rem?” Virgil spoke softly, his voice hardly heard over Remus’s muttering.

The green side either ignored Virgil or just didn’t hear them as he continued to push the blood stained needle through the fabric

“Remus, kiddo?” Patton stepped forward, it was a small step, but his foot skimmed the edge of the tapestry. Patton took a step backward when the fabric was pulled roughly by the green side towards him. 

Logan looked down towards the floor, multitudes of other sewing projects were thrown around. Mostly small stuffed snakes. Some were yellow, others teal or green, but there were hundreds of them. Logan set down Anwir, giving him a green snake to play with. “Stay.” “Bah!” “Thank you.”

Logan rose back up, taking careful steps towards Remus. The tapestry was sitting on his lap, meaning that his back was exposed and Logan could get to him without stepping on his project. Logan carefully stepped around, eventually getting clear access to Remus.

“Remus can you hear me?” Logan spoke softly and clearly, keeping his hands in Remus’s view as he met his eyes.

“Can’t talk. Need to finish this.” Remus didn’t meet Logan’s eyes, he only pulled the thread through the fabric, creating an eye of a much larger figure.

Logan drew a breath, “ok… what are you working on then?”

Remus knotted the green thread, snipping off the excess and pulling the yellow thread from a pile beside him, “My apology.”

Logan pulled his full attention to the green side beside him, the other two only watching as they couldn’t help but become absorbed in the conversation. “Your apology? Remus, you didn’t do anything-”

“No! No! I did! I killed him! I took my morningstar and hit his ribs until they were nothing but snake putty! I wrapped my hands around his throat until his eyes got cloudy and he looked at me with betrayal! I ripped out every one of his pretty scales and that crimson blood leaked out of every hole! I-I killed him!” Remus sped up his stitches, his voice growing thick as the tears rolled down his cheeks in globs, “I killed him!” he stopped his stitches, tears soaking down his mustache he choked on his sobs, dropping the needle with shaking hands, “I killed my best friend.”

The other sides could only stare as Remus broke down. Hiding his face in his hands as tears fell on the weeks worth of work. Regret seeped in Remus’s every word. It was like it was dunked in it, covered completely in sorrow and pain.

The sides stood frozen. The room echoed with Remus’s cries. They were haunting, the sound that you only hear in your nightmares. The sides felt their voices dissipate. Until one of them broke the hollow silence.

Anwir shuffled forward, crawling on his hands and knees with his stuffed frog in his hands. The other sides only watched as the child sat down mere inches away from the green side and held out his frog to the upset side, “Fra!”

Remus raised his head to look at the smaller side, his breaths were heavy. Tears clogging his pores and nose, his hair was a mess from a month without a hairbrush. “W-what?”

Logan pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing slightly, “he means frog. He’s been trying to give people his frog when they’re upset.”

Remus blinked, his mind fogging slightly before it cleared. And he laughed. Remus laughed and pulled the scaled baby to his lap.

 “Fra! Fra! Fra!”

Remus chuckled as he bounced the child, “Fra? I agree! Can you say fuck?”

Anwir blinked for a few seconds, “fua!”

Remus hummed, “hm.. Not quite. Fuck. Fu-ck. Fuck!” Patton rocked back and forth on his heels, he didn’t quite approve of Remus trying to teach his baby swears, but the moment was too wholesome to raise a fuss.

Anwir stared at the green side, heterochromatic eyes wide as he stared into the red pools of Remus’s eyes. “Fuh!” The smaller side smiled as he reached beside him, making grabby hands towards the sewing needles, making a slight pouty face when Remus pulled the needles away, “No. No sharp things until you learn how to say fuck.”

The other three sides watched with a smile as Remus played with the newest member, but eventually, Anwir fell asleep against Remus’s chest.

Virgil stretched, standing from his position on the floor, “come on Rem, let's go home.”

Remus snapped his head up from the child in his lap, “what? No.” Remus took in a large breath like sigh, “I still killed Janny. I can’t go back.”

Patton stood up tall, he took in a large breath and looked Remus directly in the eyes. Rocking back and forth on his heels slightly, “Kiddo, you didn’t kill him” Patton pushed his tears back and forced his voice to comply, “R-Roman did.”

“You were wrongfully framed Remus,” Logan added, putting a hand on Remus’s shoulder

“And we were wrong to accept you as the culprit without any concrete proof.” Virgil leaned against the concrete wall of the darkside living room.

Remus blinked, running his hand through the smaller side’s hair as the thoughts went through his head. He shook his head roughly, “no! No.. just because I don’t remember it, doesn’t mean that I didn’t fucking do it!” The green side bit his lip harshly, a small hint of copper filling his mouth.

Virgil pushed the tapestry to the side, allowing him a path to walk directly to Remus, “Remus, look at me.” the green side hesitantly raised his head to lock eyes with Virgil, “If you really wanted to kill Janus, would you have done this?” he pointed towards the tapestry, vibrant shades of gold and silver sticking out from the folded over fabric, “would you have taken away the needles from Anwir so he wouldn’t hurt himself? Would you have been so apologetic that you spent weeks down here, alone, making things that reminded you of him?” Virgil looked Remus dead in the eyes. “Dude, you need to stop listening to that head of yours and listen to the nerd. Not everything is your fault.” The green side nodded.

“Not everything is my fault…” Remus hushed a breath, the words light and airy as they flowed out of his lips.

Virgil nodded with a small grin, “Come on, trash goblin. Let’s go home.” he extended his hand, his smile growing wider when Remus rested his hand on top.

Logan rolled up the tapestry, Patton collected the hundreds of plush snakes, Virgil picked up the memories trapped in the photographs. And then they left. A green door switching out for a red one in the concrete house.

And the new family went home.

They had a lot to fix, a lot to mend, a lot to forgive. But they had each other. And sometimes, that’s all you need.

[franklyshipping]

The Consequences of Energy ~ A Jacksepticeye Ego Fanfic

Here we have a snazzy anonymous prompt that features two of our favourite septic lads engaged in a battle of the ages! LET’S DO THIS!

Jackie rolled his eyes. He knew this was going to end in tears, but when Chase Brody was happy and excited, nothing in the world could stop or dissuade him by even an inch. Every single day for about three weeks, Chase had been incessantly challenging Jackie to wrestling matches, and every single day….Chase lost those wrestling matches. This is because Jackie was a legitimate superhero with enhanced strength and an intense, consistent training regime….and Chase….well….wasn’t. Chase ended up drained of all his energy every single time, and yet this still didn’t dissuade him from his challenges! So, as Jackie looked at Chase’s half-excited, half-arrogant expression….he decided that during this match, he would have to do something to show Chase that he was well and truly beat.

Chase was excitedly squaring up to Jackie in the training room, wearing a vest and a pair of sweatpants whilst Jackie donned his hero suit, except without the mask. Jackie raised an eyebrow at Chase as he watched the man stretch, and asked with a slightly amused smile.

‘Are you sure you wanna do this again? We must be into the double figures by now with our sparring sessions.’

Chase rolled his eyes, because arguably Jackie was going into the double figures with how many times he’d asked that question. Of course Chase was sure! With every session of wrestling and careful fighting he was getting stronger and stronger, he could just feel it! He grinned cheekily at Jackie as he replied.

‘You’re just scared because you know I’m getting stronger by the day! Don’t worry, I’m not gonna take your job just yet or anything.’

Jackie pursed his lips at Chase’s cheekiness, and planted his feet on the mat as he smiled at him coolly. He couldn’t wait to just put him in his place.

‘I’m not scared of that happening Chase, I just don’t wanna see you cry when I kick your ass into next week.’

‘Oho yeah? Come here and get it then!’

Thus, they began. Admittedly it was a slow beginning, because the two of them circled one another on the mat for a good few minutes, and even when they started, the two of them only gave out a few faux grapples to the other. On Chase’s side this was because he was cautious, and secretly a tad nervous, but on Jackie’s side it was very much strategic. Jackie was trying to lull Chase into thinking he wasn’t fully invested in the fight and that he didn’t plan on giving it his all, so that eventually his defences would falter….and Jackie would strike him down. Of course, with Jackie being a well-seasoned superhero with much experience fighting a plethora of individuals, it didn’t take long for his stratagem to prevail….and Chase’s arms began to lower as he threw out a slightly impatient taunt.

‘Man, you really are a softie at heart aren’t you? Ihi mean you aren’t even going for me, it’s like you’re asking to be taken down!’

Jackie snickered at that, and straightened up, his posture ramrod as he fixed Chase with a cool stare. Chase had to admit that he got a little chill down his spine, getting a feeling that Jackie was preparing for something….and soon enough, that feeing was confirmed when Jackie replied to him with a sneer.

‘That’s funny, I was just going to say the same about you.’

Then, with the speed of someone almost inhuman, Jackie launched himself at Chase. The poor dad had never really stood a chance. In seconds Jackie just had him on the floor, pinning him on his back on the mat, planting his knees either side of his hips as he held Chase’s wrists down above his head. Jackie chuckled in fond amusement, because as ever it was just so adorably easy. Chase grunted and struggled amidst all of this of course, but to no avail. Once again, he was beaten before anything had truly begun. Still though, as he looked up at Jackie, his determination outweighed his embarrassment.

‘Another round! This was barely fair, you didn’t even give me a chance to defend!’

‘Chase I circled you for ten minutes and gave you ample opportunities to attack me whilst giving you faux attacks to practise defending yourself against! You have to admit that this isn’t for you Chase, there’s no shame in being a lover more than a fighter.’

Chase grunted and carried on struggling, yes okay maybe he valued caring for other people, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t toughen up as well! He wasn’t going to give up on what he wanted, even if he had to annoy Jackie to the ends of the Earth to have this continue! He grinned up at Jackie stubbornly, and stuck his tongue out before replying defiantly.

‘Well I’m not gonna stop tryna train with you, you can’t stop me, you know how determined I can be!’

Jackie rolled his eyes fondly, because yes, admittedly one of Chase’s most prominent qualities was how determined his spirit was. However, this determination had riled Jackie to no end for weeks….and he’d had enough. So he was going to have to break Chase in the most loving way possible. He leant down so he was nose to nose with his stubborn best friend, and replied in a low tone with gleaming eyes.

‘Sure, you’re determined….but let’s see how long that determination lasts when someone actually works to break you.’

Chase scoffed. If Jackie thought he wouldn’t be able to handle being pinned down and playfully manhandled then he was SO wrong! He maintained his determined smile when Jackie used one hand to pin his wrists down above his head. But then, Jackie started wiggling the fingers of his free hand in the air above one of Chase’s bared armpits, and Chase’s eyes widened. No…..Jackie wouldn’t do that….would he?

‘….n-no….’

Jackie chuckled as he watched the apples of Chase’s cheeks go pink, and he replied with a sneer.

‘Oh yes.’

Jackie let his fingers descend and scratch ruthlessly in Chase’s underarm, making him squeal and burst out into frantic cackles. He started tugging at his wrists, but with Jackie being a superhero it basically meant that there was no way Chase was going to be able to get free.

‘NOHOHO NOHO JAHAHACKIE!’

‘Awww what’s wrong? Is someone feeling a little less determined?’

Jackie teased with a grin, scratching deep and fast as he relished in seeing Chase laugh. Jackie loved tickling Chase in general, he was so adorable when all he could do was laugh and laugh, but it was especially satisfying to tickle him with a vengeance. Needless to say, Chase was starting to regret having been so cocky.

‘STAHAHAPPIHIT YOHOHOU AHAHASS!’

Chase struggled harder, which only made Jackie laugh fondly as he scratched his other exposed armpit now, raising an eyebrow down at Chase as he replied.

‘I’d be a bit nicer if I were you, you know I know just what to do to make you scream.’

Chase let out a flustered whine, squeezing his eyes shut as he shook his head, trying to block out Jackie’s voice. Because it was true. Jackie knew Chase better than almost anyone, and Chase shuddered to think of how badly Jackie could torture him if he wanted to. He cried out cutely and imploringly.

‘NOHOHO NOHOHOHO PLEHEHEASE DOHON’T!’

Jackie chuckled, and hummed musingly as he let his tickling hand lazily trail down Jackie’s torso. Chase gulped and shivered, whining nervously as he tittered at the teasiness whilst Jackie muttered.

‘Ohhhh it would be sooo easy for me to wreck you…..and given how much you’ve been riling me and bugging me recently, you definitely deserve it….’

Jackie’s fingertips landed at Chase’s waist where they swept back and forth, teasing and tracing the sensitive skin to make Chase squeak and twitch oh so cutely. Chase was red-faced and giggling warmly, restless beyond belief as his cheeks started to ache from how widely and giddily he was smiling.

‘N-Nohoho p-plehehease! Ihihit tihickles s-so muhuch Ihihi cahan’t!’

‘Awwww, poor ticklish baby….’

Jackie crooned, making Chase let out a high pitched, indignant squeak as he retorted adorably.

‘I-Ihihi’m nahat a b-bahaby!’

Jackie laughed brightly, and kept on cooing down at Chase as he softly tickled along his waistline.

‘Who’s a tickly wittle baby booooo, hmm? Who’s got the itty bitty goo-goo giiiiggles?’

Literally Chase wanted nothing more than to curl up and hide for eternity. His blush was creeping down his neck as the butterflies in his tummy rampaged at the baby-talk, this was so unfair, baby-talk was the most evil teasy thing ever!

‘D-D-Dohohohooon’t oho my gohod Ihi’m gohonna dihihiiie!’

Jackie snorted and shook his head fondly down at Chase.

‘Hey Marvin and Anti are the drama queens in our household, we don’t need a third!’

Chase giggled at that, and then couldn’t help but reply with a cheeky grin, his tongue poking out through his teeth.

‘Ihif thehey’re drahama queens thehen you’re the drahama empress!’

Jackie gaped, and pointed at Chase as he narrowed his eyes threateningly.

‘Oh you’d better take that back right now!’

Chase giggled, grinning even more as he replied in a faux innocent way, because by this point he had just accepted his tickly fate.

‘Or what….your majesty?’

Jackie growled under his breath, and to think he was about to be nice! This punk was SO getting it now! Jackie’s eyes flicked down to Chase’s torso, and erode in on one particular little…button.

‘Oh you’re about to find out.’

Jackie wasted no more time. He leant down and attacked Chase’s navel with a torrent of the strongest, most rippling, noisy raspberries that you have ever had the damn privilege to witness. And oh how Chase screamed.

‘AAAAHHHH NAHAHAHA WAHAHAHAAA!!!’

Chase’s eyes bugged out of his sockets as shockwaves of ticklishness shot through his navel and went through his whole body, making him shriek and scream with sweet laughter as he bucked madly. Now he realised what Jackie had meant at the start about breaking him. Jackie smirked into Chase’s taut stomach, eagerly blowing another raspberry before he growled.

‘You ready to take that back yet, huh? Or does the wittle tickle baby need some more of his five a day?’

Chase shook his head frantically as he let out another shriek, laughing brightly as he replied very frantically.

‘AAAHHHAHAH IHIHI TAHAHAKE IHIT BAHAAAACK! JAHAHACKIEEE!!!’

‘And are you sorry for having been a tenacious little brat recently?’

Chase nodded frantically, getting tears in his eyes as Jackie playfully nibbled the rim of his bellybutton, making him snort through his laughter. Jackie only wished he had a camera so he could capture how utterly adorable Chase looked, all laughed to happy tears.

‘YEHEHEEESYESYESYESYEHES!!!’

Jackie laughed warmly, and after giving Chase’s navel a light nuzzle with his nose he finally relented, leaning up and releasing Chase’s hands. Chase curled up into a ball the second that Jackie shifted off him, and the hero fondly stroked his fingers through the childish father’s hair.

‘You good buddy?’

Chase initially just whined into his forearms, which made Jackie snicker, before he scooped the hero up into his lap so he could cuddle him.

‘You are one determined little rascal aren’t you?’

‘Thahank you….’

Chase giggled into Jackie’s chest, humming as the hero kept stroking his hair. Jackie gently sighed, and looked at Chase fondly as he spoke in a soft, tender voice.

‘Y’know, sometimes knowing how to physically fight someone doesn’t actually matter. Sometimes, just have a determined attitude like that is more than enough….you feel me?’

Chase looked up at Jackie, and deep down….yeah, he definitely understood that now. Of course, on the outside he was still a complete goofball, so he rubbed his palms against Jackie’s cheeks as he replied with a giggle.

‘Yeah man I feeeeel yohou-‘

‘Alright that’s it, I’m using you as my bench pressing weight for the rest of the day!’

Chase squealed and laughed as Jackie slung him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, before indeed bench pressing using Chase as his weight for pretty much the rest of the day. It shouldn’t have taken the whole day really, but for some reason Chase was awfully giggly every time Jackie grasped him and lifted him into the air above him. That’s the thing about happiness, it persists in you for oh so long.

WOOOOOO HOPE YOU ALL LIKED THIS FIC LEMME KNOW IF YA DID WOOOO LUV YOUS XX

[dramionediscussion]

I honestly believe that antis don’t know what dramione is actually about, and believe we just ship a bully with his victim–and refuse to deviate from their reasoning.

But dramione is NOT about that, because literally NO ONE in the dramione fandom (except a few bad apples) would ship a childhood bully draco with hermione. We understand that yes, doing that would make it toxic/abusive. 

draco’s racism was taught to him, just like the weasley children were taught that muggles and wizards and muggleborns were equal. the first eleven years of his life, he grew up with lucius malfoy as a role model–one of the chief blood supremacists. we know that canonically draco worshipped his dad. he learnt that muggleborns were scum of the earth. why would he question that? when we’re kids, we don’t question what our parents teach us–we just assume they’re right and that’s how the world works.

the same concept applies to his classism. the first thing he said to ron was “red hair. hand-me-down robes. you must be a weasley.” now, keep in mind that this is the first time draco is meeting ron. how is an eleven-year-old who’s never met the other child before, know exactly who the child is, and how the child would look?

again, the parents. lucius malfoy worked with arthur weasley in the ministry. he would obviously go home and complain about the “blood traitor and his poverty” to narcissa, and draco would probably overhear, and assume that that’s how you treat the weasleys, because they’re “bad people” in his father’s book, and by extension, his. 

the second book: at the start, lucius puts draco down because his marks were lower than hermione’s. draco is obviously put off, but he understands why–he’s a pureblood. he’s a malfoy. he’s supposed to be doing better than the muggleborns, because according to his father, they don’t deserve to attend hogwarts. later, he calls hermione a mudblood–again, where would he learn that type of language? definitely not the internet, because that didn’t exist. that takes us to his parents. 

now, the question probably is why wouldn’t draco see other non-racist people in school and change? because he didn’t hang out with other houses. slytherins are very isolated, and usually pitted against the rest of the school. draco’s friends, children of death eaters, were probably raised in the same way he was. if his parents taught him pureblood supremacy, and his friends’ parents taught them the same thing, why would he think to question it? 

draco malfoy was taught right from wrong, but those values just happened to be the opposite of what everyone else, like the weasleys, was taught. but just as the weasleys went in knowing that draco was wrong for believing in them, draco went in knowing that the weasleys were wrong for believing in theirs. 

in the third book, I think the whole buckbeak incident was realistic. if a child provokes a dog, and the dog bites it, the dog is the one that’s put down no matter what the child did. I’m not saying it’s “right”–I definitely thin draco 100% deserved to be punched by hermione–but it’s how the world currently works–maybe it will change later but for now, it’s reality. 

and as for the slytherins’ hatred towards hagrid–I’d say it was justified, because hagrid himself was no sweetheart to them. don’t get me wrong–I love hagrid, but he didn’t like the slytherins–you can see this when he talks about them in the first book. again, the books are from harry’s pov, so even if hagrid didn’t like the slytherins and said something about them, it would be biased. but yes, the slytherins often took it too far. 

the fourth book–draco’s bullying wasn’t even that bad. he actually warned hermione to get away at the world cup, in his own twisted way. he accidentally hit her with a curse meant for harry. he made “potter stinks” badges–juvenile things. 

now for the fifth. let me get this absolutely straight: I hate umbridge. I hate the inquistorial squad. I hate that the slytherins joined them. 

but we have to go back to slytherin inequality for this. the slytherins are booed at quidditch matches. the whole school, including most of the teachers and their headmaster, are against them. in fact, I could say that the only teacher that favoured the house was snape, and have canonical evidence. it’s basically the slytherins vs the rest of the school. 

now, comes along a lady that actually seems to favour slytherins. for the first time, they’re made to feel important. she wants to form a little group to catch their worst enemy in an illegal act. who would say no? 

but again–the golden trio was no less. they purposely excluded the slytherins from the DA. forget malfoy and his cronies. not EVERY slytherin would be devoted to umbridge/malfoy. but the trio didn’t invite ANY of them–and not all their parents were death eaters. 

now, put yourself in their place. imagine your school formed a club excluding your house. why would you protect them, instead of catching them? they had no reason to protect the DA, so they didn’t. 

in the sixth book–I think at this point, draco’s grown out of his blood prejudice and realised that it isn’t a game. his father, probably the person he expects the most to protect him is in azkaban. voldemort has his mum, and will kill her if he doesn’t murder the wizarding world’s most powerful wizard. but why did he continue his discrimination? 

do you really think that draco malfoy, bully and blood supremacist for five years, suddenly stopped bullying muggleborns, that word wouldn’t reach his house? his friends/housemates would tell their death eater parents, and somehow, it would reach his father, or worse–voldemort, who would just find it an excuse to kill his mum. 

but admittedly, he didn’t bully the trio that much that year, and I think he called hermione a mudbblood only once–at the top of the astronomy tower, when he was trying to kill dumbledore. 

also dumbledore KNEW that draco malfoy had been ordered to murder him. he knew who had been making those attempts the entire year. and then five minutes before the death eaters got them, he offered protection. draco was expected to make a life-changing, life-threatening decision in five minutes? when he didn’t even know whether he could trust the order? for all he knew, they could hold his family hostage to draw voldemort out. 

but even then, he began to lower his wand, but it was too late. 

IMHO, I think draco only referred to her as “mudblood granger” at that time as a last-ditch attempt to constrain to his father’s beliefs–which would be VERY advantageous to him at that point, because then he would be able to find a reason to murder dumbledore. but we all know he wasn’t able to do it. 

in the seventh book, he refuses to identify harry, even though it’s obvious he recognises him and his family could gain EVERYTHING–but that’s a flimsy redemption arc at best. he stands by while hermione’s being tortured, yes, but that’s because it’s bellatrix lestrange–probably the most feared death eater of all time. would you do anything? I think not. 

draco malfoy was brought up in a different way, having different beliefs ingrained into him. do you actually blame a child for doing what his father said, when the child should have been old enough to make his own choices? do you still blame that child for having been exposed to only one sort of right their whole lives, and having a biased opinion because they were never taught to see from a different perspective? and do you still blame that boy, despite everything he’s faced, that he never went through with it? 

people who say “draco had a choice and he made the wrong one” are just wrong. what kinda choice would they make if a genocidal maniac was sitting at their dinner table, holding their mum hostage, until they killed the president of their country? 

 to me, I think draco and ron were both very insecure people, though for different reasons, and just had different ways of showing it. ron cut people off when he thought they were going to succeed without him, and draco made comments about the other person’s insecurities, probably to make himself feel better. ron was insecure about harry’s fame, but since he was harry’s best friend, he just had to put up with it (until the 4th book). draco had no such obligations. 

and to say that draco malfoy isn’t redeemable, is saying that people who mess up when they’re kids, will remain that way for the rest of their lives. it’s sending a message to all young people out there telling them the consequences of making a mistake–no one will like them. 

I’m not “excusing” draco’s racism. he was a piece of shit, plain and simple. but I’d say 98% of that is because of the way he was brought up. 

also isn’t it the whole point that we want people to wake up and realise their mistakes? half of america would have LOVED for donald trump to get up one day and realise that he’s a racist misogynist. ofc it wouldn’t change the past, but it would change the future.

now, onto the dramione argument. 

first off, saying that hermione wouldn’t forgive draco for the past is going against every aspect of her character. she had a soft spot for kreacher, the house-elf that grew up in a racist household and was therefore racist and called her and ron “mudblood” and “blood traitor” (quite similar to draco, actually). she understood where he was coming from, and why he was the way he is, and ultimately didn’t care. after that, how can you say that she wouldn’t forgive draco for having beliefs and values ingrained into him from when he was a child? 

second, who is the real enemy in HP? yes, you could say voldemort, but it’s more about what he represents, which is prejudice. having draco, a former blood supremacist and the son and nephew of death eaters, getting together with hermione, a muggleborn girl, would show that he’s thrown his beliefs out of the window. it’s his character growth and how he matures through the war and its aftermath. 

putting draco and hermione together as kids without any change to their characters is toxic and abusive, no doubt about it. but that’s not what dramione is about.

even in hogwarts fics like isolation, what the room requires, and clean, the authors make sure that he repents. they make sure to explicitly write his character arc, and to show that he is no longer a bully or blood supremacist. 

hermione is NOT draco’s redemption, since canonically he shows signs of awakening, if not actual repentence. she’s the conclusion of his redemption. it’s officially showing the world and society that he is no longer a blood purist. 

dramione isn’t about crazy fans thinking it’s adorable for a bully and a victim to fall for each other.

dramione is about change. and if you believe that people can’t change, that’s on you.

———-

Edit:

I agree with most of the points you’ve made except for the second paragraph. The majority of Dramione fans do indeed ship Hermione with redeemed Draco, but there’s nothing wrong with reading fics in which their relationship is toxic (I do that every once in a while) because neither Hermione nor Draco is a real person and you can put them in all types of circumstances. They’re both fictional characters and thus can’t be hurt.

- AgnMag

[comparatist]

Did a feminist analysis of 'A Doll's House' by Henrik Ibsen today. Here's the gist.

A Doll's House’ is a play penned down by the famous poet and dramatist Henrik Ibsen in 19th century. The storyline follows the journey of a woman from her dependency upon her husband on almost every matter in their mundane life to leaving the family behind and walking on the path of self reliance. The protagonist, Nora, has been depicted in such a way that the play may not seem to be of feminist nature at the first, but as the plot unfolds, we get to see how her character has been conditioned by patriarchal norms of the society and and her effort to break free of that chain at last. The play is often considered as Ibsen's challenge to the notion of portraying women as stereotypical representatives in literatures. The play was written in an age when women were expected to be docile, obedient, take care of children, be a good mother and a wife, look after the house, barely step out because the public domain was still reserved for men, in simple words; be an apple of the eye of male expectations. The norms supported by the implications of religion as a guidance to indoctrinate women on the oppressive terms, like the duty towards the family should be her ultimate goal, were normalise during the period and active participation in the world outside the house counted as blasphemy. However, Ibsen's advocacy lies here in the demand of equal treatment for both the sexes. It’s a matter of debate, whether he was a feminist or not but the views expressed in his writings definitely insert a note for his support for the woman's struggle of identity.

‘A Doll's House' is set at a backdrop where the society is male dominated, where language is used as a medium to control the one situated in a lower position in the pyramid of power dynamics. Language often provides a medium to facilitate the oppression upon the dominated by the suppressor. The terms used by Ibsen in the play, are notably anti-feminist. The timing itself is a good reminder of this notion. 19th century wasn’t a time when men were so ready to unlearn their ways. The play shows how Nora’s husband Torvald calls her names which were supposed to be cute, except they were nothing but examples of lingual oppression in a subtle way. The animalistic terms such as ‘skylark' or ‘squirrel’ explain nothing beyond Torvald Helmer’s nature of treating Nora not as his equal but his pet. He even goes to the point, where calls her his ‘possession' and expects her to cherish his line of thought which is a blatant expression of him asserting his dominance over her and denying the fact that she has her own individual identity. His behaviour highly speaks of society's order of demeaning women and treating them as inferior subjects. The use of language to explain the relation between the couple on economic terms is also noteworthy. Torvald is the earning member of the house and whatever he gives to Nora, are to be received as gifts, by her. This relation between the duo points out the problematic notion of Torvald's tendency to buy Nora’s obedience and loyalty towards his supremacy. It is because of this unequal power dynamics, Torvald has the audacity to say things like, “Has my little spendthrift been wasting money again?” and get away with it because of the then suppressed nature of Nora which gives him the agency to exploit her condition of social indoctrination.

The play also ensures to capture the enslavement of men in their stereotypical roles of being ‘the man' of the house. Torvald is a victim of the same patriarchal notion of living up to the society’s expectations. His social conditioning grants him this toxic masculine character of exerting and enjoying his hold over Nora and finding nothing wrong in it as he sees himself as a bold and strong figure who wishes to rescue his wife from dangers by ��risking’ everything for her just to boost up his inner satisfaction of saving a damsel in distress. The names he uses to call Nora seem to be the examples of affection for him because, the underlying aspect of the societal confirmation of man in the stereotypical roles never crosses his mind for once. Torvald had normalised a world where men had the agency to indulge in individualism, write laws, judge women from their own point of view and faces difficulty when he gets questioned by Nora for creating misery in her life, caging her with the bars of ‘marital bliss lies in the female obedience,’ thereby for being nice to her only because of her acknowledgement of his supremacy in the household. The work which yields money was assigned upon Torvald then, and he used to do it, not because he loved his family but to massage his male ego for being the bread earner of the family. Nora, however, initially tries hard to be ‘the woman' for her husband, abiding by all his rules, glorifying this toxic notion of being a puppet and pulling ‘tricks' and singing for him, while searching for security under his stronghold but never gets the assurance there. This strongly points out the notion of how women then come over heavily dependent upon their fathers, husbands and sons. The name of the play becomes more apt when we get to know more about Nora’s relation with her father when she says, “When I was at home with papa he told me his opinion about everything and so I had the same opinions; and when I differed from him I consealed the fact, because he wouldn’t have liked it.” The indoctrination here, runs so deep that it really shows how a girl child gets her upbringing done in an environment where voicing her own opinion might invite the wrath and general displeasure of her near and dear ones; even her parents. So she keeps her mouth shut and thereby learns the ‘art' of not upsetting people by becoming an outspoken woman and normalises being called ‘doll child’ by her father as a reward for her obedience. “He used to play with me just as I used to play with my dolls,” sadly depicts the condition of women dancing on the whims of men.

The character development of Mrs. Linde or Cristine also holds a strong ground when ‘A Doll's House’ gets discussed on the context of being a feminist bildungsroman. She represents that ‘exception' of a bold, strong woman who has seen enough of this male dominated world and has worked hard to sustain herself there, had to marry a rich man and disconnect with her lover, just to provide for her mother and brothers. She takes pride in that. She finds her solace in the thought that, she cannot be blamed of blasphemy by the society as she had to work when her husband died and that gave her more experience than experience than Nora and chances to look down upon the dynamic character of the latter. Her remark that she ‘couldn’t endure life without work’ contrasts heavily with Nora’s understanding of working where she glorifies Torvald's success as her own and thinks it’s the duty of the wife to do the same, yet secretly enjoys the time when she had to work on copying something to pay off her debts and that gave her an impression of ‘almost being a man' and thinks of it as ‘fun’ which cannot be said aloud in her husband’s presence. Cristine, however feels ‘quite alone in this world' after her mother passes away and brothers get established well and despite having her independence, she longs for a family, ‘wants to be a mother for someone' and reconnects with her old lover Krogstad. Whether her decision was right or wrong stays in a mystery, yet the character development of the two women run parallel yet opposite where Nora finally manages to break away from the norms but Cristine finds her assurance in the same.

The childish nature of Nora plays an important role in her liberation from the patriarchal norms of the society. It's her indoctrinated immaturity and normalisation of the same which make her endure the gaslighting of her husband in the name of love and affection, yet the same features in her raise a rebel who dismissed the stronghold of societal regulations quite easily while Cristine's calculated mindset fails to do so. Cristine knows that the struggle is long and therefore she seeks her security in surrendering to the oppressive structure but Nora’s lack of farsightedness gives her the thrill to taste the value of independence, without thinking much about the long end, which may not seem logical but surelybgives a sense of relief to the reader. The transformation of Nora’s character from being the person who internalised the role of ‘playing tricks' for her husband’s pleasure to someone telling him, “You are not the man to educate me into a proper wife for you,” and defying the laws of religion by saying, “I do not exactly know what religion is,” thereby dismissing the notion of a wife’s duty being at service for her husband every moment, is certainly something which steers forward the idea of ‘A Doll's House' being a feminist bildungsroman.

[thistleandthorn-rpg]

Name: Dexter Wells Designation: submissive Age: 33 Claim: Dahlia Wells Faceclaim: Jason Ralph Orientation: Bi-Sexual Occupation: Journalist Kinks: Bondage, Sensory Play Anti-Kinks: Humiliation, Bathroom Play, Blood/Knife Play, Public Sex Key Points:

Nurturing

Unambitious

Guarded

Private

Fiercely Loyal to those within his circle

Intelligent

Ethical

BIO:

Dexter and Dahlia were friends from the first day of kindergarten when she interrupted a bully trying to take Dex’s pudding cup. Dahlia was brash while Dexter was bashful. Dahlia was impulsive, while Dexter thought things through. Dahlia was ferocious, while Dexter was steady. She was born for the Dominant, while he was born to the uncertainty of the switch roll.

They went to Institute together and even though they each had their fair share of romances and hook-ups in the end they decided that their friendship was a stronger foundation for a claim. They just worked together. They even enjoyed each other in the bedroom without ever really categorizing what they had as romantic love. That was not to say that they didn’t love each other. They loved each other completely and fiercely; best friends forever. So they decided there was no need to stay in institute longer than necessary. They had a lot of life to live and knew they wouldn’t find better partners than each other. They got approved and were off and running with the rest of their lives. First college and then a move to The Big Apple like they’d talked about since the second grade.

Dahlia got a job at The New York Times straight out of college. It took Dexter a bit longer, but eventually he got a job with The Bronx Free Press, where he did community pieces that he never made light of. Dahlia writing about international mark agreements and Dexter writing about a giant zucchini grown in a community garden were considered the same in the Hanson-Wells household.

This was all perfect for quite a few years, but eventually, Dexter started to yearn for something else. He eventually admitted to Dahlia that he wanted… needed to be a dad. It was the first time he didn’t know what to expect from her. And neither did she. After a week of thought, she realized that of course she wanted to be a parent with her best friend. She was ready to share their happiness and love with a child… or children. A year later they welcomed their twins Dorothy and Jack. Dex was in heaven. He settled into his new roll as a house sub and stay at home dad. He’d never been one to believe that things could be ‘too good’ or that you could have too much good fortune. He believes it now. The phone call came just as he was putting the twins down for a nap. There was an accident. Everything possible was done. So sorry for your loss. And just like that his perfect life collapsed around him.

With two babies to raise and the deadline for finding a new claim looming over his head, Dexter headed home to where he grew up. Ohio seemed so much smaller. His paren’ts house even smaller still. But he was grateful for their support as he tried to mourn and still be the best dad he could. He found a job with the local paper, though as a submissive he couldn’t do much more than report on fluff pieces. He didn’t have the bandwidth to be anything more than grateful.

Life hadn’t turned out the way he’d expected, but for his children he needed to make the most of the life he was given.

BIO QUESTIONS

Describe your occupational journey and how you got to where you are.

I studied journalism in college. I love that being a reporter gives you the opportunity to shine the light of truth in dark places. I don’t really do a lot of that kind of serious reporting, but that’s alright. Even small truths in shady places makes a difference.

How would you describe yourself as a Dominant/submissive?

Good question. I think my role as a submissive isn’t front and center. I would describe it as nurturing. I get a lot of self worth in taking care of the people I’m close to.

How do you feel about authority?

I’m okay with it. I understand the world order and my place in it. I’m not looking to rock any boats. Dahlia was the one who was ready to storm the gates and change the world. I just want to stay free and do right by my children. So authority figures… I’m ready to do whatever you need.

[5-falsehoods-phonated]

Seems like a good time to bring this back up. Under the cut will be a title, applicable ship, and a small summary of all my wips. I got an ask recently to add someone to a taglist so I’m putting this out: these are all my projects. If you want to be tagged for individual stories, for bad things happen bingo, a certain ships or any and all in general let me know! Of course if you have requests you’ll be tagged anyway but barring that hit me up if you wanna.

Experimental Socialization- Intrulogical- Logan was raised by the government to be nothing more than an experiment and a weapon, utilizing his unique abilities as a mutant. When he finally escapes things are much different than he imagined they’d be but thankfully finds others like him willing to help guide him right where he needs to be. Requested Prompt: Not Used To Being Free

Bad Things Happen Bingo

To Cure The Inevitable- Logince- Roman si so tired of endangering himself and everyone around him everytime he changes. Logan promises to help cure him, an old agreement never straying far in his mind. Requested Prompt: Painful Transformation

Restricted- Platonic DRLAMP- Witches are only granted mercy for being caught by owing service to a household for the rest of their lives. There aren’t many houses that are kind when they take on a witch, a fact that is all to clear to Logan and his found coven. Requested (but modified) Prompt: Hurts To Breathe and Whipping

Rage Against The Machine- Intruloceit- Rage finally breaks down the locks and bars present on his door and is decidedly not happy. Unfortunately, Logan is in the way. Requested Prompt: Lifted by the Neck

Faulty Logic- Platonic DRLAMP- Remus is bored and no one’s seen Logan in a while. He’s probably just shut up in his room...right? Requested Prompt: Locked in a Cage

The Perfect Manicure- Familial Rayality- Patton was so happy he got to spend time with Roman since both of them are usually so busy. Though when he said he couldn’t wait to show Remus and Logan his nails, Patton didn’t think he meant by mail. Requested Prompt: Finger in the Mail

Hold Onto Me- Intruality- Patton rushed to the construction site as soon as he heard the building collapsed. All he can do is hope he isn’t in the emergency team’s way as he holds onto Remus’ hand. Requested prompt: Pinned Down by Wreckage

Space To Breathe- Loceit-  Janus is angry and silences a bit too forcefully cutting off not only voice but air supply as well. Prompt: Hurts To Breathe

Trees Are Shit- Familial LAMP- Roman taunts Virgil, Virgil takes the bait and Patton stays on the ground. Logan and Janus know that nothing good can come from hearing all three of their children start screaming. Prompt: Doesn’t Realize They’ve Been Injured

Fear Will Be Your Enemy- Familial Anaroyality- When Virgil accidently tips off the monsters their trying to sneak around and Patton ends up hurt, he can only sit and watch helplessly as everything falls apart. Prompt: Empathetic Healing

Catch and Release- Analogical- Stress can cause all sorts of symptoms if it isn’t taken seriously, but Logan isn’t stressed, he just caught something from work. Virgil has to be the one to step in and say that no, tea and anti nausea pills are not a substitute for actual rest. Prompt: Definitely Just A Cold

Pretend To Hurt- Intrulociet- Remus often suffers from migraines which makes it incredibly hard to do his job. He isn’t sure what keeps triggering them but at least his loving boyfriends are always there to take care of him. Prompt: Trying To Wake Them Up

Stress Enough- Prinxiety- Roman can feel a cold coming on but Virgil has been so stressed lately he knows the other will be coming to him for comfort. Desperately he tries to work through it so he can still be there for his boyfriend. Prompt: Damaged Vocal Chords

So It Goes- Demus- All Janus wants to do is wear a dress but Xyr mind won’t shut up long enough for xem to do so. Xe has never been so grateful for Remus’ constant need to be background noise. Prompt: Body Image Issues.

Oveflow- DLAMP- Logan always felt useless if he wasn’t doing something but doing things required energy that  he sometimes just didn’t have. The others try and get him to understand that resting does not equate to laziness. Prompt: Anger Born of Worry.

Measured Steps- Anxciet- Soulmate au where the counter on your wrist shows how many times you’ll see you’re soulmate, subject to change. Janus gets concerned when his counter suddenly goes down to one and tries to find his destined person. Virgil isn’t one to trust fate in the midst of panic. Neither realize they are their own foils until it's too late. Prompt: Get It Over With

Close- Familial Moxiety- Virgil doesn’t care about destruction of property as long as Patton is safe. His son comes first, always. Prompt: Hysterical Strength

One Shots

Cold, Hard Bitch- Anxciet- When Janus falls ill and isn’t strong enough to sink out to get help, Virgil has no choice but to travel on foot to the light sides’ space. If only the twins weren’t bitter idiots with the way they seperate the domains. Prompt: Hypothermia.

No Strings Attached- Rociet- Roman doesn’t know how to say no, Janus is happy to teach him. 

To Support and Comfort- Logicality- Patton is autistic and has certain “unconventional” things he does because of it. Logan’s parents don’t understand that but thankfully Logan is there for him no matter what.

Drumbeat- Intrulogical- Thoroughly fed up with the way his and Remus’ ADHD manifests and makes their lives more difficult, Logan sets up a date to try and find a solution to their problem. Thankfully it works out for both of them.

Laughter Is My Love Language- Analogical- Virgil loves each and every one of Logan’s laughs and strives to hear them as much as possible. Logan pretends not to notice.

Safe- Mociet- After staying with his boyfriend for several years Patton realizes the things he endured in childhood definitely weren’t okay. Janus is there to make sure he knows he’s safe.

Quiet Knight- Rociet-  Janus is going off to college in a different state and Roman goes with him to the airport. Neither of them want to leave quite yet.

Black Licorice- Anxciet- Collab

Overgrown Metal Ch 4- Janus and Logan centric chapter

Dee Little Snake Ch 3- Patton walks in on a small Janus- and promptly gets apples thrown at him.

[brokingsacking645]

What laptop is best for gaming

Wolfsgamingblog.com Internet site. Wolf's Gaming Blog Xbox 1 & Computer Gaming, And Board Games.

No matter if you happen to be a initial-time gamer or a person who has been gaming because the golden age, there is no denying that the business has grown. These numbers can certainly differ per study, but it does appear like the quantity of female severe gamers are on a downward trend. The final time we checked in females had been closer to 45%-48% of gamers. We can speculate as to why this is. Possibly females are much less fond of the emergence of the eSports trend. Probably females are feeling significantly less incorporated in gaming forums and on the web communities right after the harassment accusations of the last handful of years. Perhaps they're just more drawn to other entertainment industries, but this is absolutely a trend to continue watching.

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[darquedeath4444]

Price (Chapter 1)

My Hero Academia

Pairing: Ochako-centric (For now)

Summary:

In a crueller world, Ochako realizes that hoping will never get her anywhere. She willingly takes her first step into villainy and is unknowingly led the rest of the way in by a man who buys her loyalty. Years too late she realizes the truth, and she can only hope that if she cannot be a hero in all senses of the word, maybe she can at least be one for those she cares for.

Chapter ONE

Uraraka Ochako grows up wanting to be a hero. 

She is born to two loving, doting parents who are honestly the best parents anyone can ask for. They might be on the poor side financially, but Ochako finds she does not mind, not when they are there to greet her in the morning with wide smiles on their faces and tuck her into bed at night with said smiles still unwavering.

Her family owns a construction company, and things had been rough for years. She is gifted with a quick which allows her to control gravity, and when she first learns this she is ecstatic because it will be very useful for her parents’ line of work. 

Her parents, however, tell her that she is free to do what she wants, that she does not have to continue their family business, and Ochako stops and thinks because perhaps there are other ways to help. 

Then, one day, she sees a particular interview on the news. The man being interviewed is a hero, who just saved a bunch of people who had been held prisoner by a villain trying to rob a bank. 

A hero, she knows, is someone who uses their quirk for justice and the good of others, and because it is a job, they get paid for it. 

Ochako’s chest warms and she just knows that this is what she wants to do. She will become a hero so that she can help her parents and everyone else who needs help. She does a little research, and all she needs is a few years, to grow a little older, so that she can enter a school to become one.

But the world is unfair and slightly crueller than Ochako realizes. It isn’t patient enough to give her just a little more time, and doesn’t discriminate who it sinks its fangs into. Her parents, who are nothing but loving and supportive and just want to live a good, happy life, slowly but surely become its latest victims. It is the cruellest murder of all, one where everyone knows death is coming, but they can do nothing about it.

Their lives come crumbling down around them just like the walls of their house and Ochako can do nothing but watch as soon, the only thing holding up what remains of their world are the smiles of her parents as they tell her, promise her, that things will become better one day.

Ochako smiles back and agrees, but she becomes tired of waiting for ‘one day’, because ‘one day’ will never come, not to her household, not if she does nothing but wait for it.

She loves her parents and does not doubt they love her, but they are wrong. Nothing will become better if they wait for it, she has to make it better.

She has no time to wait, no time to waste waiting, not when the world is already at their doorsteps with a knife. Her quirk might not be the most impressive thing around, but she knows that if she can utilize it properly, she will be a formidable force. 

Gravity is what roots everything to the very earth they all stand on, after all, and she can negate it.

The first time she does it, it is largely curiosity. She is at a dagashiya, one she often stops by to look through but never actually buys anything. She has been hungry all day, because her parents had had to rush out to work early in the morning, and while they told her to eat anything in the fridge, she feels bad because she knows they haven't.

The store is run by an old woman who is mostly unaware of what goes on, and the packet of mochi she takes is past the expiry date. She still feels bad, her steps slowed by fear and the stolen goods a little heavy in her pocket.

A few more times and she learns that her quirk helps. It reduces the weight of the loot in her pockets and makes her steps lighter as she skips out of the store.    

The first time she almost gets caught is also the first time she attempts at another store. She does not know that the things standing on either side of the doorway are anti-shoplifting alarms, and she triggers one when she steps out, a bar of chocolate hidden in her hoodie. 

She was careful to pick a time where there are little people around, and the storekeeper blinks when he rushes over and sees her frozen on the spot because she hadn’t thought this through.

“Uh, hey, kid, did you take something?”

Ochako’s hands feel clammy, but she shakes her hand. “No,” she says. “The alarms just started ringing.” Then, in what she hopes is convincing childish panic, she widens her eyes and bites her lip. “Did I do something wrong? Am I going to be arrested?”

The man looks like he doesn’t know whether to trust her or not. “I’m just going to pat you down, okay?”

Ochako nods, and the guard does just that. He finds nothing, and he stands up. “Welp, must have been a malfunction,” he says, and he sounds a little more friendly. “Where are your parents, kid?”

“At work,” she tells him. 

The man nods sympathetically. “I see. Stay out of trouble, okay?”

Ochako grins and waves him off, then makes sure there is no one else around before she presses her fingers together. The chocolate bar falls into her grasp from above and she hurries off.

Once she has started, she finds she cannot stop. No one suspects much of the cute, cheerful girl and she becomes good, too good. A part of her mind is always thinking about values and escape routes and targets, and she has to consciously stop her hands from reaching out towards the pile of apples that could probably feed them for days if they are as careful with them as they are with everything else they own. 

She is careful to keep her targets to products they already own, or stuff they usually buy, so she can sneak small quantities of her steals to the small supply of it they have at home. 

She never gives in, however, not when her parents are around because they are trying so hard for her and she doesn’t want to know how they’d feel if they find out she has given in to stealing, even if she, too, is doing it for them. 

The local museum is open once everyday months for free, and Ochako often finds herself going. Her parents had been called out on an emergency at work so this time she is alone, but the people at the doors let her in without much trouble. 

There is a limited time Egyptian exhibition, and as she walks around the showcases holding artifacts made of pure gold, all she can think of is how much that’d be worth. 

Not that she is in any position to even attempt to steal it, but the thought of the money she could get from selling something so sparkly makes her stomach lurch in ways she doesn’t know is good or bad.

She clears her head and tries to simply enjoy the cultural significance and the sheer history on display, but the thought dances teasingly at the back of her mind. 

She is on the third floor, in one of the gift shops, when the ground suddenly crumbles without warning. 

It is not an explosion, more like a sudden sinkhole, and Ochako just manages to cast her quirk on herself as the entire building crumbles down.

When Ochako comes to, she is caged in by two large slabs of metal that probably saved her from the smaller pieces of debris raining down on her. She is small and manages to crawl out from the gaps between the metal, and finds herself on top of crumbled walls and floors. 

She does not see anyone else around, but she can see the sky from where she is. The sun is still up, so unless she was unconscious for a day, it has barely been a few hours at most.

She feels tears well up in her eyes as she feels herself beginning to panic, and she forces herself to not cry. 

The heroes will be here soon, maybe they are already here. 

She does not know how long she had been down here, alone. She considers using her quirk on herself multiple times, but it makes her so queasy she doesn’t know if she’ll be able to get to the top before becoming sick anyway. 

She begins looking around, and when she finds a part of a shelf from the gift shop lined with snacks, she grabs a packet and wolfs it down. Something red and shiny catches her eye just as she has finished stuffing a few extra packets into her pockets and she carefully digs through the small bits of debris, almost cutting her hands on shattered glass, and picks up the large, red gem the size of her palm.

She had seen this in the exhibition. Was it real?

Suddenly, she hears footsteps and voices. Panicking, she shoves the stone into her pocket. The sounds go quiet for a moment, and then there is a sudden rush behind her.

“Don’t move!”

Ochako freezes at the sharp warning and spins around. The man’s firm glare widens in shock when their eyes meet. A second hero, a woman, appears behind him and she, too, goes stiff. 

“What-you’re just a kid!”

They’re heroes.

Ochako stumbles back, relief and fear gripping her. Had they seen her stealing?

The man finally seems to shake off his shock. “Did anyone mention a missing girl?”

Ochako takes in a sharp breath. They hadn’t. 

“No one reported a missing kid,” the woman says. “Unless, of course, there was no one to report her.”

“You okay, kid?” The man slowly reaches out towards her and Ochako forces herself to stay still. “Hurt anywhere?”

Ochako shakes her head. “I’m okay,” she says. 

The man smiles kindly. “That’s good,” he says. “We’re going to come over there, okay? We’re heroes, we’re not going to hurt you.”

Ochako nods. “Okay. What happened? The ground suddenly started shaking and the whole building exploded!”

The woman hops over the debris first and crouches down in front of her. “We suspect a villain raid,” she explains. “Probably after the Egyptian stuff.”

Ochako keeps silent. Probably. She’s only ever shoplifted before, and they had still caught her attention. 

“Anyways, I’ll call this in, okay?” The man raises a hand to his earpiece. “Hopefully, we can get someone in here to get-”

Suddenly there is a small explosion above them, and in the next second, the two heroes in front of her are impaled cleanly through by large tendrils of what looks like metal. Blood splatters onto the ground in front of her and Ochako stumbles back in horror. 

Someone lands heavily in front of her and Ochako slowly looks up. 

The man looming over her has dark red hair and piercing yellow eyes. His face is covered by a metal mask and he wears a long, white coat that slowly settles from its flailing as he straightens himself. 

“Never expected a brat to try an’ snatch our loot,” the man mutters thoughtfully. He leans down and grabs her by the front of her clothes. Ochako gasps and instinctively grasps at the hands as they lift her up like she weighs nothing. 

“Let me go!” She plants all five fingers firmly down onto the limb holding her up, and the surprise is just enough to make the man release her. Ochako lands on the ground with a grunt and lets out a scream when the metal tendrils from before stabs into the ground beside her. 

The man now has a thoughtful glint in his eyes as he stares down at her. The other end of the metal is firmly held in his grasp, and he uses it to drag himself back down to the ground. “Your quirk, brat?”

Ochako hesitantly nods. 

“Huh. So, what’re you doing here?”

Ochako panics, and the fact that she hadn’t actually meant to take anything flies from her mind, leaving behind the fact that she had considered it, if only for a second. 

“My parents-my parents need the money-”

“Your parents sent you in?”

Ochako desperately shakes her head, suddenly scared the man would go after them after he kills her. “No! I didn’t actually mean to take anything! They don’t know anything!”

The man continues to look down at her like he does not know what to make of her. His quirk obviously allows him to control metal, though there is no saying that that is all he can do. Even if he is floating, he can easily kill her. 

Ochako cannot run. She steels herself and meets his yellow gaze as best she can. 

“How old are you, brat?”

“Eight,” she replies honestly.

“You really are a brat huh.”

If this conversation had been between her and one of the neighbours, Ochako might have made a comment about the number of times the man repeated the word ‘brat’. It isn’t, though, so she bites her tongue and prays that whatever he is thinking, it is enough for him to let her live.

He killed the two heroes like it was nothing, she does not doubt for a second that his current gravityless state will stop him if he decides to get rid of her too.

“I lead a small group of thieves,” the man tells her after a while. “We run heists like this once in a while.” He continues to stare down at her. “Tell you what,” he finally says. “I’ll buy your loyalty.”

Ochako blinks, confused. “What?”

“You want money for your parents, right? We don’t have anyone with a quirk like yours, might be useful to have around. We’re thieves, an’ good ones at that. You’ll earn way more than if you run around by yourself.”

“Hence buy my loyalty.” Ochako tries to think, but her brain cannot keep up with anything going on around her at this point. She had gotten caught by heroes, only for said heroes to be killed by the actual villain, who is now offering her membership into his band of thieves. 

Still, she knows there is only one answer. Everything she has done up until this point has led to this, and sooner or later, she will be caught and be forced to stop forever. She cannot pretend it didn’t happen, after all.

Or, she can tuck herself underneath the wing of a man who clearly knows what he is doing. 

If he plans to kill her anyway, there is no reason for him to offer her such an opportunity, right?

“Okay,” she says. She swallows, then repeats a little louder, “Okay.” She presses her fingers together. “Release.”

The man lands neatly on his feet and smirks. “Your name, brat?” He asks.

“Uraraka Ochako,” she tells him.

“Huh.” The man fiddles with his mask, as though wondering whether to take it off or not. Finally, he decides on taking it off, and Ochako stares at the dark markings covering the majority of his face. Scars, perhaps.

“Keep that stone, we’ll say it’s a welcome gift,” he tells her. So he had seen her. He had been watching the entire time. He smirks. “The name’s Wolfram.”

Ochako always wanted to be a hero, but she finds out a little too late that the world is just slightly not patient enough to wait for her, and she blinks, and realizes she has become anything but. Still, she won’t let it stop her. If she cannot become a hero for everyone who needs help, well, she’ll settle with being a hero for her parents. She will do anything to give them the nice, untroubled lives they deserve.

Anything.

Chapter TWO>

Chapter List

[aparecium-hq]

Welcome to Aparecium, Ro! You have been accepted for Scorpius Malfoy. We are thrilled to have, as you put it, a massive anti-hero, morally-grey character nerd among us! Your Scorpius has a lot of fun potential, and we can’t wait to see what you do with him. Check out the new member checklist, and jump right in.

Character Basics

Birthday (Age): 21 Gender (Pronouns): Male (He/Him) Sexuality: Currently still exploring and unsure. He knows he’s interested in men, but isn’t sure if it’s an exclusive thing and doesn’t feel confident enough for labels just yet. Blood Status: Pureblood Hogwarts House/School: Ravenclaw Occupation: Healer (4th Year Apprenticeship) Faceclaim: Maxence Danet-Fauvel

Any requested changes? Not super explicitly a change exactly but, from the resources I’ve found, there doesn’t appear to be a lot of information on training involved in becoming a Healer. Wiki suggests that it’s all based on academics from regular school years, but I find this a little far fetched. I imagine there’d be some sort of training system in place at the hospital, not that different from the muggle world, so I’ve sort of assumed  a couple of years of what we would call ‘residency’ but I’m calling 'apprenticeship’ because that’s the old school guild way and feels wix-world appropriate? Anyway, let me know if there are any issues with this or if you want to discuss it further! Also, please note that any headcanons I form in the rest of my application regarding existing, playable characters, I can definitely tweak if the personality portrayal goes against future applicants! I make a few references to Albus, for example, that is sort of based on his personality in Cursed Child, as well as what I read in his bio. But if anything conflicts with how he is portrayed by who eventually plays him, I will obviously take that into account and accommodate.

Biography:

Having inadvertently become the best friend of Albus Potter, he never really had the opportunity to complain about the challenges of growing up the son of Draco Malfoy. Because obviously, growing up the son of Harry Potter (and then sorted into Slytherin, no less—cue gasps of shock and appall) was obviously a lot more immediately arduous. And Scorpius is and has always been an empathetic person. Some people (sometimes even his father, when he got cranky) had coined that particular trait as being a bit of a push over, but Scorpius liked that he put the needs and considerations of others before his own.

So he had no regrets about how he more often than not, kept those particular thoughts to himself. But it did get frustrating sometimes, especially as a kid. Because it would seem that no matter how many years of post-war peace go by, they can never fully escape the discrimination (or, as his father likes to sarcastically call it, the 'hurt feelings’).

And it’s not at all that he didn’t have a good childhood. In a lot of ways, that couldn’t be further from the truth. Certainly, there were some… complications. A few particularly difficult years, being that he was a child of divorce, and had to adjust to bouncing back and forth between two separate households at a young age. But overall, he knows he’s one of the lucky ones. He has always felt loved, protected and supported. And though his parents were barely on speaking terms for the better part of the first few years after their divorce, they did their best not to involve Scorpius in their issues of discontent.

Despite all of that, he has always been a lot closer with his father, than his mother. Astoria is good to him and loving, but she was (somewhat surprisingly) less supportive of Scorpius’ straying from tradition when it came to being sorted into Ravenclaw, and his relationships with the Potter-Weasley clan. Draco, despite his persnickety temperament, had been Scorpius’ influence of patience, ambition and most importantly, tolerance. From the conversations they’ve had over the years, Scorpius is beginning to understand that his father still holds a lot of resentment for the expectations that were forced upon him as the only Malfoy heir of his generation, especially with things that went on during the war. To this day, however, it’s a bit like piecing together a jigsaw puzzle because Draco often refuses to discuss the war.

When it comes to politics, Scorpius is by no means opposed to muggleborn equality—obviously—and he can even hypothetically be supportive of the introduction of muggle technology. But he was raised by parents who were absolutely against the absurd idea of abolishing the Statue of Secrecy, and Scorpius has to admit he agrees with them. Even his father, who is generally a lot more empathetic to muggle and muggleborn related politics than Astoria, firmly believes dissolving the Statue of Secrecy would only lead to another war, perhaps even uglier than the last.

A typical Ravenclaw, Scorpius very much enjoyed school, and now that he’s out in the 'real world’, even though he's  had a few years to adjust, he still sometimes feels a little lost in it. He misses the reliable comfort of being a student, of having constant mentors and structure available to him, and the leniency of not having to make and stick to decisions regarding his future. He followed in his fathers footsteps and pursued Healing, which he has to admit feels relatively right, but still, he’s never been as good under fire as his father, nor as unflappably resilient and ambitious. He wants to be good, and he wants to make a difference and make his parents proud—but there are times he really struggles not to crumple under the pressure of it all.

And then there was Rose. Merlin, he has so many regrets about how things went with Rose—his other best friend. He’d known they should probably never have dated. He’d known, and even Albus had tried to warn him, but at the time Scorpius had just dismissed Albus’ concerns as his “annoying cynicism” talking. And to be fair, Albus really could be quite cynical sometimes.

But as it turns out, he was right. He was really, really right, because the (astoundingly brief) relationship had been a total bust, and even though he and Rose had agreed in advance not to let the attempt at romance come between their friendship should it not work out, Scorpius made that promise a difficult one to keep when he cheated on her with a young man in his apprenticeship program at St. Mungo’s, and she found out. He knows it’s his fault, he does—but he misses her intensely and he wants to find a way to win back her trust and respect.

Plus, it’d be great if he could finally get Albus to stop with the 'I told you so’ tirade.

Character Questionnaire

What does your character value in a friendship? Scorpius’ friends mean everything to him. Though he can be something of an introvert (strong Ravenclaw vibes), he is prone to getting lonely without the company of those few people dearest to him. The ones who know him best and with whom he can share anything. He finds he’s frequently looking to his friends for advice, or their perspective on something he’s feeling particularly indecisive or uncertain about, so he definitely values honesty in that regard, and someone he feels safe being open with about his fears. He also values patience, and inquisitiveness, and he has a harder time with people who are hot-tempered or quick to anger. Which… did make his relationship with Albus a complicated one, especially at first, but by the same token, he also really admires people who are passionate and decisive—perhaps because it embodies traits he wishes he could see more of in himself.

How would your character describe their own work ethic? Is that an accurate measure of themself?

If there is one thing Scorpius inherited above all else from his father, it’s his work ethic. Draco taught him to be a resilient, diligent student, and a reliable, focused worker. He taught him to take pride in his work, and to never settle for anythnig less than the best. This did generate some issues with Scorpius’ tendency towards being an obsessive perfectionist, which doesn’t actually bode particularly well for his softer sensibilities and his capricious sense of confidence, but otherwise he considers his work ethic one of his stronger attributes.

How would a stranger who has just met your character describe them?

Probably sweet, warm, and a little shy. Scorpius generally gives off a good first impression because he is well mannered, friendly, and easy going. He much prefers making friends to enemies—but his first impression is usually limited to just that one dimension. Only those who know him better are exposed to his more anxious, self-conscious side, and his friends know he has a bright, almost sarcastic sense of humour that he undoubtedly got from his father. Often, new friends are taken a little by surprise by it.

Para Sample

He knew for a fact that his hair was standing every which way by the time Albus got home, thanks to his some-call-it-habit, others-call-it-tic, of tugging his fingers through it when he was bored. Or nervous. Or tired. Or hungry. And he also knew for a fact that there was a spot on his jumper from the bit of tea he’d spilled on it when he’d gotten home, and that his father would be less than impressed at his state of dress. But though there were a lot of things Scorpius got from his father, one apple that had fallen actually quite far from the tree, had been Draco’s sophisticated propensity.

Scorpius much preferred jumpers that were cozy and a bit too big, shoes that were comfortably worn-in, and rolling out of bed and more or less letting his hair do what it would, without too much fussing about. Sorry, Da.

And tonight, it was admittedly his boredom at fault for the bird’s nest state of his hair, perhaps helped by an undercurrent of anxiety that was pretty common now that Scorpius was getting on into his apprenticeship—and that had undoubtedly gotten worse since his falling out with Rose. And really, he tried not to talk about that whole debacle too much with Albus, because it seemed to make him a little uncomfortable, but Scorpius was prone to over-thinking (read: obsessing) and so it was a subject that was almost constantly simmering at the back of his mind.

Nonetheless, the sound of the door clicking open brought with it an intense wave of relief and excitement for Scorpius, because Albus was home, which meant someone to talk to, someone to distract him from thinking about work (because his father always told him to leave work at the door when he left, if he wanted to have any semblance of a life outside it), and perhaps someone to play a round of Wizard’s Chess with him. Though that usually took a fair amount of convincing, with Albus.

[lowcarbnutrients]

11 Foods for Better Sleep

Life is a whole great deal brighter when you wake up from a restorative night's sleep. Without those deep zzzs, energy, mood, wellness, work performance as well as lifestyle all experience. If you locate sleep elusive, whether it's problem dropping or remaining asleep, you might be thrilled to uncover that what you eat can play a massive duty in calming the stress and anxiety that maintains you awake. Integrating these 11 foods for much better rest can help.

You may be surprised to find out that planning for a successful night's sleep starts when you awaken. What we consume in the early morning, in addition to what we eat throughout the day, all add to an effective night's sleep.

The Best Method to Beginning off the Day to Help with Better Sleep

Protein especially plays an essential function in guaranteeing we take the deep study peaceful oblivion. Tryptophan, an amino acid from protein, is necessary to have in adequate supply so it can be exchanged serotonin, the feeling calm natural chemical. In the existence of darkness, serotonin is converted into melatonin, the hormonal agent regulating our sleep/wake cycle. Beginning the day with lots of protein aids the chemical cascade along. Avoiding breakfast in fact enhances the chances of insomnia. Below are 3 excellent anti-inflammatory breakfasts to obtain you motivated, in addition to 12 vegan breakfasts that aren't grain or toast.

The Best Way to Consume Throughout the Day

The glycemic index is a measure of a carbohydrate's effect on the blood. Consuming low glycemic index (GI) foods like vegetables, avocados, nuts, meat, fish, eggs and beans aids to balance blood sugar levels throughout the day and also improves your ability to sleep well.

When you consume extreme high GI foods like fruit juices and also breads, at some point blood sugar degrees go down, and also you experience inflammation as well as stress and anxiety as your adrenal glands (the battle or flight control centre) launch adrenaline and cortisol to handle what the body regards as a dilemma. The body can't identify in between various forms of anxiety, whether that's from bad vehicle drivers, a hefty work, psychological distress or also blood sugar crashes.

If the accident takes place in the center of the night, our sleep is interrupted. Consuming healthy protein, fat and fiber with each meal helps to balance blood sugar. Conserve healthy and balanced greater GI foods like steamed potatoes till later in the day when they collaborate with the all-natural sleep/wake cycle in the body.

11 Foods For Better Sleep

Chickpeas

Besides being a low GI food with high fiber as well as healthy protein, chick peas are immune carbohydrates (RC), which implies they shed gradually and also keep blood sugar levels consistent. Consuming RC with their healthier greater carbs prior to bed really collaborates with your sleep/wake cycle stopping blood glucose from leaving in the middle of the evening. Green bananas and Cannellini beans are a pair of various other sources of RC.

Boiled and Cooled Potatoes

Potatoes typically have a higher GI particularly if they're refined or warmed at heats, however steaming preserves a few of the resistant carbs (RC) that balances blood sugar level. If you go one step additionally as well as cool those potatoes overnight, you acquire back several of the RC in a procedure recognized as starch regression. Sweet potatoes, parsnips, turnips and rutabagas include some RC too as well as take advantage of the very same preparation. Eating RC a couple of hrs prior to bed allows the carbs to slowly launch for balanced blood sugar level throughout the night.

Seeds

Seeds have a specifically high quantity of tryptophan. Julia Ross, author of The Mood Cure, makes the instance that people don't take in enough tryptophan-containing healthy protein and also their sleep experiences. Natalie Turner, author of The Carbohydrate Level of sensitivity Program, calls pumpkin seeds the brand-new "cozy glass of milk" due to the high web content of tryptophan.

Tart Cherry Juice

A study from the College of Rochester in New york city discovered tart cherry juice has an extremely little quantity of natural melatonin-- an ideal quantity for starting rest. In one more research study, Montmorency cherry juice raised the availability of tryptophan, the forerunner to serotonin. The juice hinders an enzyme that weakens tryptophan, which can bring about sleeping disorders. Consume alcohol 1-2 ounces in the early morning and night, but take in with a little bit of protein, fat and fiber to regulate the greater GI of the juice.

Dark Leafy Greens

Magnesium, located in dark leafy greens, is essential for appropriate nerve transmission and controlling blood sugar-- 2 important duties for sleep. Mark Hyman, chairman of the board of the Institute for Functional Medication claims magnesium "is a remedy to stress and anxiety, one of the most powerful leisure mineral available, as well as it can help improve your sleep." (" Magnesium: Satisfy the A Lot Of Effective Leisure Mineral Available.' A current research study located that rest quality enhanced when individuals added magnesium to their diet regimen as it helps reduce supportive nerve system activity.

Nutritional Yeast

Nutritional yeast is rich in the B vitamins that sustain the anxious system as well as aid transform trypophan to serotonin to melatonin. B12, particularly, assists to normalize rest by promoting the pineal gland to launch melatonin quicker.

Mushrooms

Mushrooms are a fantastic superfood. B5 from mushrooms, particularly shiitake, can help regulate making use of tryptophan and sustain the adrenal glands.

Eggs

Eggs are high in inositol, an additional participant of the B vitamin household. Our brain cells are lined with inositol so when we eat foods with it, the cells come to be extra immune to cortisol thereby enhancing sleep.

Red Peppers

Red peppers are an incredible participant of the foods for far better sleep since they are really high in Vitamin C, which rapidly diminishes when we're stressed. Vitamin C also aids to reduce cortisol so melatonin can be produced.

Salmon

Anxiety as well as anxiety are strongly connected to reduced degrees of Omega-3 fatty acids. In one research, Omega-3 fats from fish oils showed a 14% reduction in pro-inflammatory chemicals and a 20% decrease in anxiety. When we really feel a lot more loosened up, we are much better able to drop asleep.

Bone Broth

Besides being delicious, bone brew or "fluid gold" as I like to call it, includes glycine, an amino acid which has actually been revealed to improve our rest. It's simple to make your own bone broth and it's a delicious, low-glycemic and also fat-rich snack.

Foods to Avoid For a Better Sleep

Processed Juice

Processed fruit juices generally consist of very little fruit and also a great deal of sugarcoated, plus they do not have fiber to reduce down sugar's launch right into the blood. The result is a sugar collision that can cause increased stress and anxiety and lack of ability to rest. If you do sometimes consume high GI fresh pushed juices, like orange, carrot, beetroot and apple, eat with enough healthy protein, fat and also fiber to reduce down glucose's influence on the body. Newly pressed "environment-friendly" juice, made with kale, celery, cucumbers, lemon and also parsley as an example, permits optimum absorption of nutrients and won't have the same blood glucose effects.

Alcohol

Even though alcohol is a sedating representative, it leads to raised stimulation later on in the sleep cycle. Sugar from alcohol is conveniently soaked up as well as triggers a significant blood sugar action. Alcohol also subdues melatonin as well as raises cortisol.

Coffee + Chocolate

Caffeine is stimulating to the adrenal glands as well as can lead to stress and anxiety and sleeping disorders. In the short-term, it may give you a power boost, however that will lead to impatience and also rest issues later. Instead of coffee as a pick-me-up, attempt a beneficial dairy-free elixir.

Dairy + Gluten

A solid association exists in between food allergic reactions and also anxiety, with dairy products and gluten being both most likely perpetrators robbing you of beneficial sleep. In one research study, infants who had unexplained resting problems were able to normalize patterns after removing milk from their diet.

Summary: Nourishment For Better Sleep

Eat a beneficial breakfast with lots of protein to provide the raw products to make ample hormonal agents for sleep.

Eat healthy protein, fat and fiber with each meal to maintain blood sugar level levels balanced and avoid the sugar crashes that inform the adrenal glands to a crisis.

Save higher carbohydrate foods with immune starches for the evening when they collaborate with the sleep cycle.

To cap off the day, diffuse lavender essential oil which will assist establish the phase for an amazing night's sleep.

[messagethegleeks]

The admins of MTG are pleased to announce that DILL has been accepted to play the role of SYDNEY PIERCE. Please follow the steps on the New Member Checklist, and we look forward to having you in the group!

OUT OF CHARACTER

Name: Dill

Age: 27

Timezone: EST.

Activity Level: RFP

Past RP Accounts:  RFP

IN CHARACTER

Character Name: Sydney Baby Pierce, I figured Pierce would have picked the odd middle name…I’m sure it made sense to him. I mean she was a baby after all.

Date of Birth: April 11, 2002

Occupation: Student (High School Senior)

Current Location: Lima, Ohio

Relationship Status: Single

Ships: Syd/Ladies/chem

Anti-Ships: n/a

Face Claim: Piper Curda

QUESTIONS - please answer in character

What is your biggest regret? If you went back in time, would you change it if you could?

Probably not knocking on doors growing up…I’ve seen some things in the Pierce household dude. Some things that no eyes should bear witness to. But it made for lots of great blackmail, so maybe I wouldn’t change it….??

Are there any guilty pleasures in your life? Please share, this is a safe space!

Hot Cheetos in milk. Like in a bowl with a huge spoon…does this count? Or were you looking for something embarrassing? Sorry dude.

What is your favorite television show and why?

Friends. No question….and the ‘why’ speaks for itself! So no one told ya life was Gonna be this waaaayy *clap clap clap clap*

Biography

Sydney Baby (courtesy of Pierce Pierce) Pierce had always been considered a rebel wild child. From her edgy style to her somewhat unorthodox way of thinking and going through life, she didn’t conform to the norm. The young girl rarely heard the word no, be it from her parents, her sister  or her friends.

She had always had a charming quality about her. It also helped that she wore her heart on her sleeve. She was known to give her last, even if that meant being hungry for the remainder of the school day. That kid sitting alone in the cafeteria with no lunch…he needed her ham sandwich more than she did.

Raised by two loving, free spirited parents,  Sydney could always be herself. Even very young she was known to rock crazy hair colors, or blunt bangs. She’d wear wild clothing, sometimes matching every article and other times matching nothing at all.  In fact, her mother Whitney & father Pierce never even thought twice about her creative outlook on life. They themselves had never been fans of anything too traditional.

It was different to the outsiders looking in but all Sydney knew was love and understanding. Her parents and her sister never showed anything less to her or each other. It was a big reason as to why she herself was adamant on always spreading love. One way in particular meant the most to her. Music, music was the apple of her eye, it was something she had always gravitated towards, something that called to her. In her mind,  for a long time, it was all she needed to be happy. Everything else was secondary.

Now, in her senior year at WMHS, things are all starting and coming to an end so quickly. She doesn’t really know what she wants to do with her life, apart from music…but she knows she wants to join her sister in the big Apple as soon as she tosses her tacky graduation cap in the air.

[timemachineyeah]

I was raised in a really conservative household and some of that fell away when I was really young. Elementary school and middle school, I was already questioning things I had been raised to believe.

The last Big Ticket Issue to give for me was abortion. The rest of it I could see, but it took a lot for me to understand all the arguments on abortion. That compassionate part of me thought, well, all the things most “well-meaning” pro-life people think. Can you really say they’re not people just because they haven’t been born yet? Aren’t we supposed to helping care for those who most need it? Who could need it more than a completely helpless little unborn kid? 

Now I understand pro-choice stuff so intricately that it’s hard to get my mindset back there, and doing so makes me shiver a little. I understand my confusion. I understand my good intentions. 

God, I remember I was already reading feminist blogs on the regular, and I’m pretty sure I made myself a little shit in the comments of one asking completely genuine but utterly insulting questions. 

I don’t know what the point of this post is. I wish it could be like “so try to help people understand you should-” but even though I made the transition and I remember the things that helped me see it, it was because I genuinely did want to understand. Because people I agreed with and respected on so many other things seemed so wrong to me on this thing, and that ALWAYS makes me want to understand the other point of view. Like, I sought out documentaries and read articles and stuff when (rightfully) angry people online responded to my “but it isn’t just HER body?” and other mistaken arguments with data and reasoning to back themselves up. 

I feel like I know the rebuttal for every single pro-life argument. Every single one. Down to a letter, I can take them apart. And it doesn’t matter. And I know it doesn’t matter. Because, and I think this is why it took so long for me to escape that issue more than any other, being anti-choice isn’t based on one or two mistaken ideas, it’s based on an intricate reinforced web of them. Taking down one wrong idea won’t take down the rest. There’s a host of medical arguments, philosophical arguments, legal arguments, moral arguments, and practical arguments. No debate, public or private, will have time to go through them all. 

And this isn’t even to say “stop saying that the pro-life movement is just about sexism and controlling women and the rest of it is a front” because it IS a front and it IS about sexism and controlling women, it’s just that the people in it will never ever ever ever ever be able to see it. The way it is baked into to all the other arguments (aside from, perhaps, the “face the consequences of your actions” one, which is the mostly blatantly misogynistic) is so folded in and obscured by its own inerrancy that asking someone to see it on the basis of one argument is like asking someone to understand what gravity is by dropping a single apple.

It’s incredibly frustrating, because all the things that make a pro-choice argument so obvious are SO obvious that taking them apart to explain them takes hours and thousands of words. Meanwhile you just want to scream because people’s lives are being ruined and there isn’t TIME to make everyone understand. 

Anyway Janet Porter is a terrible cynical monster and I hope she gets eaten by a politically informed crocodile. 

[silverliningslurk]

Hold On

Pairing: Kiyoko Shimizu/Yachi Hitoka Word count: 4.3k Rating: General audience Potential Trigger Warnings: None Summary: Yachi Hitoka is magical, but she’s the only one she knows, and she can’t practice much, considering her mum’s not keen on the whole idea anymore. However, Shimizu finds out, and offers her a door into a more magical existence, and maybe, perhaps- something more, too. 

Written for @kaijuusandkryptids for @haikyuusecretsanta‘s event! I really enjoyed writing this, and I really hope you enjoy it too! 

Read on AO3 here! 

Hitoka sticks her tongue out just slightly, not even conscious of the motion, as she tries to reason with herself.

It’s not like it needs it. She enjoys drawing people in just by her own merit – which is a little daft, because using it would be her own merit too, but it just… If her mum caught her at it, she’d be very disappointed.

But. This is important. They need the money, they need people to be drawn in and reach into their purses. She wants to see them go to all the way, wants them to succeed, and do what she can to help. And maybe, just maybe, it needs that little extra.

After all, a little sweep of a potion here and there wouldn’t hurt, would it? No one would notice, probably. It’s not like she’s seen anyone else using magic at all.

Glancing at the door, she bites her lip. Equally though, it’s a little risky. Her mum could find the stuff she’s been hiding, and throw it out in disgust. Her dad’s powers, she’ll complain, nose in the air, and much use he ever was.

To Hitoka, though, it’s always been a little forbidden, a little too tempting. She’s used it before, just a touch here and there, a blending spell with her foundation so she doesn’t stick out so much, a calming spell in her lip balm. They’ve never worked too well, but that’s because she’s never had much room to really learn, and she’d love to, but not under this roof.

She thinks about classes sometimes, or books. Books might be safe enough. She can put a fake cover on them and stick them somewhere her mum isn’t likely to go. Her mum’s not too until books, so it would probably be safe there with the others as long as it doesn’t stick out.

Allure spells are easy enough, though. She’s thought about using them before when she’s had crushes, so she’d looked them up. If she can just find those notes…

It takes a mere minute of rummaging in her desk drawer to find them, and she flattens them out on the table, and reaches for her paintbrush.

Magic works best via a sentimental object, she’s heard; given by both her parents when she was only small, when she was starting to show an interest in art and graphics, and they’d been so proud of her. It’s always reminded Hitoka of when her family was complete, before her dad disappeared and her mum resented him for it.

She says the words. She imbues the brush, and paints the spell over the poster, highlights the things she really wants people to take notice of, the arc of Hinata’s arm, the ball, the words. Not too much, but not too little. Just enough.

When she’s done, she sits back and admires it. Almost nobody would be able to detect the magic unless they were looking for it, and almost nobody even would think it was real if she told them.

To her, it’s a perfect fusion of talents from both her parents, entwined into something important to her. She’s proud of it, and she can’t wait to show the team her efforts.

Thankfully, they love it. No one mentions anything untoward, and Shimizu-senpai smiles at her so warmly, grateful for her effort, that Hitoka practically floats around the rest of the day. She might have to reapply the magic to the copied posters, but that’s the work of minutes, and she’ll do that when she takes them home after copying them. It’s perfect, and her day is perfect, and everything has gone perfectly.

Until. “I admire the delicacy of your magic, Hitoka-chan.”

It goes downhill. Like usual. Hitoka thinks she can hear her neck creak as she turns, ever so slowly, towards Shimizu-senpai, still smiling at her gently. The confusion blows in like a sandstorm – how did she know? She’s never mentioned anything before, never given any kind of hint, never even- how?

"W-w-w-w-what d-d-do you mean?! M-m-m-magic?!" She stammers, flapping her arms wildly. Thankfully, no one else is around; unfortunately, the only person who can see is probably the person highest on her list of people Yachi Hitoka does not want to have a meltdown in front of. "I-I-I don't know what you mean!?"

Shimizu smiles gently, and Hitoka's heart can't cope with panic and a cute expression at the same time. Her face is burning. "It's alright, Hitoka-chan. I have magic on my mother's side mostly, and a little on my father's. I've learnt to see it."

"What?!" She screeches, and then promptly cringes at her volume. "You- you're magical too?" She can't help but sound incredulous – the amount in the magical population is unknown, but estimated to be approximately 2%. It's somewhat an open secret: most magicians hide the fact, as it can cause them to get hounded and ostracised. Not everyone believes it’s real. Hitoka loves magic, but she's never wanted to shout about it. It's always been intensely personal, wrapped up in confusion from her dad disappearing and hurt from her mother resenting her inherited power, seeing it as his. But alongside that is wonder. She's always wanted to use it to help, even if in small ways. She likes the idea of being a small town witch, making potions and rubs for old ladies.

Shimizu nods. "Which spell did you use?"

And Hitoka tells her, dumbfounded, because she's having an intelligent conversation with Shimizu-senpai of all people about magic. She daren't believe it.

Well, semi-intelligent. Hitoka doesn't actually know that much, curtailed by resentment from her mum and only using spell books. Remembering that, she trails off and sighs. Shimizu raises her eyebrows.

"Mum doesn't like me doing magic. So I don't know much." She's finally made a connection, something only they share, and the fact that she can't really know much about it is going to ruin everything.

"That's a shame. Why is that?" "I got it from my dad, and he disappeared when I was ten or so." She wrings her hands together. It’s only really at points like this – and when her mum’s being just the wrong side of constructively critical – that she misses him. She doesn’t remember too much, really. That might have been one of his spells, but she doesn’t mind too much, being left mostly with a rosy glow instead of concrete memories of abandonment, essentially.

Glancing up, she sees Shimizu making a conflicted expression, unsure what to say. This, Hitoka is used to dealing with. “Don’t worry, I’m not upset at it. I’m more annoyed he didn’t teach me much magic, really.” She explains, fiddling with the cuff of her shirt. “And with mum, I don’t really…” It occurs to her then she probably shouldn’t be sharing so much with Shimizu – someone as cool as her, as self-assured, definitely doesn’t want to hear these petty concerns of Hitoka’s.

“You could visit our house and learn some with us, if you’d like.”

Definitely doesn’t need to hear these petty concerns of Hitoka’s. She has bigger, grander things to concern herself with, like her exams, her flawless reputation, her own friends-

“Huh?!” Hitoka screeches, caught off guard. Shimizu chuckles gently, holding a hand in front of her mouth to semi-hide her smile, but not enough. It shows, in the acceleration in Hitoka’s heartbeat, in the warmth in her face, in the way she grips her hands together. She can’t even think, faced with that stunning smile. Shimizu can’t be making fun of her, surely, she’s too nice for that, but the thought of her offer being genuine is just- impossible.

“My younger brother loves to teach people, he’s just a little younger than you. I’d love to teach you. Even without formal teaching, you’re a delicate magician.”

Yachi Hitoka does not croak. She’s not a lady, but she has some class.

Although if she had done, the sight of Shimizu grinning was almost worth it.

The Shimizu household looks completely normal from the outside. There are tall plants to either side of the doorway, and it’s only when she feels something around her hand that she realises they’re not completely normal plants; she feels a little out of her depth, but crouches down and murmurs soothing words to each of them in turn. They release her, and both open up a flower, as though smiling. Hitoka compliments them on it; Shimizu, teasing, tells her she’s spoiling them.

The house is quite normal from the inside, too. There’s a lizard tank in one room that Hitoka wants to peer into, but manages to hold herself back from. The kitchen looks normal when Shimizu gets her a drink, and offers her a space to put her bags. The living room looks normal when they sit in it to wait for her mum, Shimizu citing that they’re forbidden from doing magic without supervision yet.

She then negates this by sliding a finger around the rim of her glass, once, then twice, murmuring an incantation quietly, and changes the juice inside from apple to orange. Shimizu smiles at her, and Hitoka feels like it’s a secret shared between them. They settle into talk about what magic Hitoka can do (not much, but Shimizu is kind nonetheless) and what magic Shimizu can do (a dizzying array, but she’s being humble about it all, of course.) Hitoka is itching to start, nervous to meet Shimizu’s mother, anxious about what will inevitably go wrong, terrified about how she’ll repay them for their efforts and when she does blow something up, no matter that she’ll be doing menial magic for sure, and petrified about that she won’t be able to do anything at all. As usual, she starts working herself up into a state, her (most likely weak to start with) anti-worrying lip balm wearing off, but she’s left it in the kitchen and getting it would require moving and that would raise questions-

“Hitoka-chan.” Shimizu’s clear voice cuts straight through her thoughts, slices through the visions that cloud her. “We’ll help you. I believe you have a good grasp on magic anyway.”

“But I’ve never really-!” She says, waving her hands frantically. Shimizu smiles gently. “Yet what you’ve done is all self-taught. Mood altering potions require a certain… finesse. I haven’t mastered any of those.” Shimizu considers it for a moment. “Perhaps you could teach me how to do those?”

Hitoka makes, to her dismay, a strangled noise. The very thought of her being able to teach Shimizu anything about this most foreign art – at least to her – is laughable.

“I don’t think I could possibly- I can’t-” “If nothing else, I need you to make a calming potion for Nishinoya-san and Tanaka-san for when they get overenthusiastic.”

Hitoka giggles, unable to help herself. Tanaka and Noya could indeed use a little less energy at times, although definitely only temporarily. She’s not sure how she’d ever administer it, since they never seem to stay still long enough. Perhaps deodorant, but then gifting it to them would be incredibly awkward, and leaving it in their bag would look like a creepy secret admirer, and Hitoka wouldn’t want to lead them on like that. The explanation should she get caught would be far, far too much.

“But how would I get it to them, even if I could make that?” She muses, bemused. “Perhaps in their water bottles?” Shimizu suggests, apparently thinking about it. “I doubt something like your perfume would work, although if you told them it’d help them win, they’d likely fall for anything.”

Hitoka hums, and then frowns. She never told Shimizu about the perfume, and she’d never thought it was obvious in any case – now she thinks about it, she’d misplaced that bottle a few months back, before she ever started as trainee manager…

“How did…?” She starts, but the door clicks open at that point. A tall women with long dark hair matching Shimizu’s walks in, not smiling but not exactly frowning either.

“Kiyoko, I asked you not to use magic without supervision.” She remarks, as though it’s been said a hundred times before. She then notices Hitoka. “And you are…?”

Hitoka jumps up, nerves growing by the second. “Yachi Hitoka, Shimizu-san! P-pleased to make your acquaintance!” She bows deeply, which earns her an appreciative hum. “Nice to meet you.” Shimizu-san remarks. “She’s here to learn some magic, mother.”

“She’s magical!” A young boy shouts. Hitoka straightens up to see a boy of about ten staring at her with glee. “I’m gonna teach her the explodey spells!” He shouts, and Hitoka laughs nervously.

“You won’t be doing that, Keiji. I can teach her proper magic, though.”

Hitoka makes so many notes her hand hurts. Her head is spinning in many ways when she leaves, but it feels full of knowledge and she likes it. She wants to practice, and somehow she’d impressed Shimizu-san enough to be invited back again, and she can’t wait. Shimizu offers to walk her home, and seems insistent no matter how much Hitoka protests; they compromise on halfway.

Hitoka thinks it’s going to be that simple, but Shimizu tugs her sleeve when they pass a bench. The mountains rise up in front of them, and there’s a small park in front of it. The sun is just setting, a warm glow in the growing shadows, and Hitoka wants to hold onto time. She knows no magic could do that, but she wants to, anyway.

“You were asking something before my mother came in.” Shimizu asks, once they’ve sat on the bench. Hitoka just sat down without thinking about it, but it feels like Shimizu has sat a little closer than normal customs would dictate; Hitoka wonders if it actually means anything at all.

It takes a while, sifting through the myriad of new magic to practice and the thoughts of Shimizu so close, but the oddity of Shimizu knowing about her enchanted perfume resurfaces. “I wondered how you knew I had magic perfume, I lost that ages ago…” she murmurs, a little embarrassed to even ask, but there’s a need to know. It implies things that her heart might be happy at, she thinks, and she just needs to know.

Glancing sideways at Shimizu, she thinks, even in the low light, that there’s a colour to her cheeks.

“I can see magic, as you know.” Shimizu starts slowly. “It wasn’t incredibly obvious, but it was enough. Once I’d noticed it, I noticed you, although I had no reason to speak to you. I couldn’t find one until I decided to search for another manager. I… wasn’t expecting you to agree to it. But I’m glad you did. Very glad.” Shimizu looks at her, then, a glance with so much meaning Hitoka doesn’t dare try to interpret.

“I’m-” She croaks, her throat dry. Clearing it, she starts again. “I’m glad you did. I’m happy you asked me!” Wringing her hands in her lap, she chuckles nervously under her breath. “I’m not really much good as a manager, but I’ll try my best, under your instruction, Shimizu-senpai!” She smiles at Shimizu. Her heart feels like it’s in her throat – the whole thing, being alone in a quiet part of town, in the space in between day and night, feels unreal and intimate somehow. Hitoka thinks maybe she’s dreamt this whole thing, and by tomorrow this will all be a faded memory that never was.

She so desperately wants to cling to it. She never has her own space with Shimizu, as unworthy as she is of it, and so now, she never wants to leave. She wants to etch the moment into time and hold it. Make it a solid thing she can keep with her. It feels like she won’t ever have this again.

Shimizu just keeps looking at her, though. Even when Hitoka didn’t notice, apparently, and all through her time learning to be a manager from her, and even now, Shimizu has been looking at her. Even when Hitoka felt plain and less than average next to her, Shimizu was looking at her like she was worth something.

Will Shimizu keep looking at her?

Even if she drowned in calming potion, she doesn’t think it would slow her heart down any. She wants to ask, the words are on her tongue, and she has to stop them somehow, by replacing them.

She panics, between her loose tongue and Shimizu’s proximity. It’s her brain short-circuiting, filled with information and tired of holding secrets.

“I’d best go! Mum will be wondering where I am!” Which is, at least, likely the truth. She stands swiftly, her hands are shaking because she was thisclose, and she just can’t. She can’t endanger this, it’s happened before, and it’s gone so wrong. Girls, lovely as they are, seem close until she tells them she loves them that way, and then they retreat rapidly, and she cannot have Shimizu retreat. She can’t lose this. She grabs her bag and swings it over her shoulder and backs off a few steps. “I’ll try and make a pot of lip balm for you!”

And then she runs. Hitoka can be impulsive, but she dreads the moment she’s impulsive with Shimizu.

Her mum is out when she gets back, thankfully, and so doesn’t see her slide down the door with her face in her hands, bright red from running back and the whole situation. She eats the dinner on the table and grabs a pot of lip balm she’d gotten as a present – it’s rose flavoured, which is not her kind of scent, but seems to fit Shimizu quite well.

Sighing, she sits down at her desk, notebook open, spellbooks on the bed, and lip balm in front of her. She shouldn’t do this now, really. Not when Shimizu-san had said, not two hours ago, that magic shouldn’t really be done in the grip of strong emotion. It taints it. But Hitoka doesn’t want Shimizu to think she escaped because of disgust or anything, and she wants to give her this. Wants to show that she can, wants to show that she’s still worth looking at.

So she takes the paintbrush from her bag, straightens the bristles out habitually, most of them at angles and glued together with paint not fully washed off. She picks up her memories of her dad teaching her, minimally, and her mum watching, smiling for once. She picks up her feelings for Shimizu, the love she feels with every smile, every flick of her raven black hair, every quiet laugh, hidden passion in her eyes, and Hitoka’s want for Shimizu to keep seeing her, and says the incantation, tapping the pot three times.

Yawning, she practices for a while, until she’s too sleepy to do so. She puts the lip balm in her bag to give to Shimizu tomorrow, and goes to bed.

She makes extra sure to smile at Shimizu, seeing the hint of doubt in her gaze, and pushes the pot at her at the end of practice, scuttling off before anything more can be said, her face red. She worries about it all night; so much so that her mum snaps at her for fidgeting. She can’t help it, wondering if the spell even caught right, wondering if in her tired state it worked at all, or had an opposite effect. She can’t help but feel something went wrong, although she cannot put her finger on what. She doesn’t think she was too emotional – she’d merely focussed on the reason for the magic as instructed, rather than the emotions.

Hadn’t she?

She barely sleeps that night, tossing and turning, wondering what kind of effect the lip balm will even have, if Shimizu will even use it. Hopefully nothing bad, but now she’s not sure and she’s doubting herself. Shimizu could have waited a day, a smile would have done, she didn’t have to give her the lip balm immediately, could have made sure it actually worked as it was meant to, but no, her impatience and anxiety made her unable to wait.

Doubling up on her own anti-anxiety lip balm and calming foundation, she still worries her lip all the way to school. She wraps the strap of her backpack around her finger, and undoes it, a thousand times. She can’t quite focus in class, dismantling her pen and remaking it over and over, as quietly as she can. The teacher sends her puzzled glances throughout, but Hitoka slips away at lunch before he can mention anything and-

Immediately gets caught by Shimizu.

Her eyes don’t seem clouded, a sign of magical influence, and she is smiling. If anything, a little too much. The hand that catches hers is firm, and leads her to an empty classroom, slides the door shut, and turns back to her. Shimizu takes both of her hands.

“Hitoka-chan-” “I’m sorry!” Hitoka cries, bowing her head. “I think I did the potion on the lip balm wrong, can you give it back and I’ll re-do it right this time, I’m sorry I knew I shouldn’t have been trusted with this-” “Hitoka-chan?” “But I just didn’t want you thinking I didn’t like you or whatever and I had to make it, but I should have waited and I’m so so sorry!” “Hitoka-chan.” Shimizu puts a finger to her lips, and immediately Hitoka shuts up and turns red. Shimizu smiles. “I’m glad you gave me the lip balm as it was.”

“But, why? It can’t have done anything good…” She starts wringing her hands together, but Shimizu laughs quietly. “Oh, it did something amazing. It gave me courage.” Shimizu states, and Hitoka just tries to think about what could have done that, because surely no spell that she’s ever cast has been that strong- “To ask you if you would be my girlfriend.”

Hitoka freezes, her mouth falling open. She definitely didn’t wake up this morning. Or maybe she fell asleep in class and didn’t realise. This can’t be real. This cannot be real, it’s way too good to be true. But she nods, anyway, automatically. She can’t refuse that offer, even if it’s a dream. It’ll annoy her waking self if she does nothing and this slips away, and since it’s a dream, there are no repercussions, either.

The smile Shimizu gives her is blinding. She squeezes her hands, her eyes glimmering in excitement. “Mother asked if you could come every week, she’d like to tutor you more. Kenji wants to see you again, too. And there’s a new café near my house I’d like to try out, if you’d like to join me? Tomorrow perhaps?”

Again, Hitoka just nods. Shimizu tilts her head just slightly. “Is… something wrong?”

Hitoka chews on her lip for a moment, trying to decide. If this is a dream, then nothing will come of telling the truth, and she might as well tell it here without real repercussions that out in reality, with all those damned consequences.

“I just- it doesn’t seem real. Isn’t that lip balm basically a… a- a love potion?” She whispers, panicking.

“I didn’t actually use it,” Shimizu starts. Hitoka frowns, puzzled. “I could see. And that gave me courage to do what I’ve wanted to do for a while.”

Hitoka just blinks. Not real. But this is a cruel dream if it is one, and now- now she feels like she needs to know for herself. She mentally traces her path through the day, trying to find a gap indicating a dream state, but finds none. She looks about the room, expecting not to be able to, or it not to have details, but it lacks nothing in clarity. Finally, she resorts to the basic method.

“Shimizu-senpai? Could I have my hands back for a moment?” Shimizu releases her, befuddled, and Hitoka steps back just enough – and slaps both of them to her face. The sting of it is real, the heat flooding her cheeks is impossible for a dream to produce. Which produces the terrifying possibility that- that this is actually real.

“You want to go out with me?!” Hitoka shrieks in disbelief. “Why wouldn’t I?” Shimizu questions mildly. “Because I’m just, just me?! And you’re you, amazing and beautiful and so, so not me, it just?!”

And Shimizu just. Laughs. Not so hard as to think the whole thing is a joke, but enough to stun her into silence. “I like you because you’re you. I wish you wouldn’t be so self-deprecating, but we’ll work on that. Together, if you like. Along with the magic, which you are excellent at, also.” She takes both of Hitoka’s hands again, feeling like the warmest thing Hitoka has ever held. “So, would you join me on a date tomorrow afternoon, Hitoka-chan?”

“Of- of course, Shimizu-senpai!” Like she’d ever say no to that offer anyway, even if it wasn’t a date.

“You can answer me then, about whether you want to be girlfriends or not, Hitoka-chan.” Shimizu says, but something about her smile is closed off, just a little. Sad, even. Hitoka takes a deep breath, and squeezes her hands as tight as she can.

“It’s not going to be a no, Shimizu-senpai. Even though I don’t get it, I don’t understand why you’d pick me, I’m honoured for the opportunity, and I’d love you. To! I meant to! Argh!”

Shimizu pulls her into a hug, only releasing her hands to wrap them around Hitoka’s embarrassed, red, shaking body. “I look forward to our adventures together.” She whispers, right in Hitoka’s ear. “A-as do I, Shimizu-senpai.” There’s a faint laugh, a mere breath of air. “You can call me Kiyoko if you like, Hitoka-chan.”

“Give me time, please! I’ll work on it!” There’s another giggle, and tightening of the hug and the feeling of Shimizu’s chin resting on her shoulder. Hitoka, minus the embarrassment, could probably fly right now, even without magic.

It’s a good feeling. And she has a notion that, as long as she and Shimizu can hold onto each other, it’ll last.

Which is, of course, the best thing.