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amateurvoltaire · 2 months ago

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For the past six years or so, this graph has been making its rounds on social media, always reappearing at conveniently timed moments…

The insinuation is loud and clear: parallels abound between 18th-century France and 21st-century USA. Cue the alarm bells—revolution is imminent! The 10% should panic, and ordinary folk should stock up on non-perishables and, of course, toilet paper, because it wouldn’t be a proper crisis without that particular frenzy. You know the drill.

Well, unfortunately, I have zero interest in commenting on the political implications or the parallels this graph is trying to make with today’s world. I have precisely zero interest in discussing modern-day politics here. And I also have zero interest in addressing the bottom graph.

This is not going to be one of those "the [insert random group of people] à la lanterne” (1) kind of posts. If you’re here for that, I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed.

What I am interested in is something much less click-worthy but far more useful: how historical data gets used and abused and why the illusion of historical parallels can be so seductive—and so misleading. It’s not glamorous, I’ll admit, but digging into this stuff teaches us a lot more than mindless rage.

So, let’s get into it. Step by step, we’ll examine the top graph, unpick its assumptions, and see whether its alarmist undertones hold any historical weight.

Step 1: Actually Look at the Picture and Use Your Brain

When I saw this graph, my first thought was, “That’s odd.” Not because it’s hard to believe the top 10% in 18th-century France controlled 60% of the wealth—that could very well be true. But because, in 15 years of studying the French Revolution, I’ve never encountered reliable data on wealth distribution from that period.

Why? Because to the best of my knowledge, no one was systematically tracking income or wealth across the population in the 18th century. There were no comprehensive records, no centralised statistics, and certainly no detailed breakdowns of who owned what across different classes. Graphs like this imply data, and data means either someone tracked it or someone made assumptions to reconstruct it. That’s not inherently bad, but it did get my spider senses tingling.

Then there’s the timeframe: 1760–1790. Thirty years is a long time— especially when discussing a period that included wars, failed financial policies, growing debt, and shifting social dynamics. Wealth distribution wouldn’t have stayed static during that time. Nobles who were at the top in 1760 could be destitute by 1790, while merchants starting out in 1760 could be climbing into the upper tiers by the end of the period. Economic mobility wasn’t common, but over three decades, it wasn’t unheard of either.

All of this raises questions about how this graph was created. Where’s the data coming from? How was it measured? And can we really trust it to represent such a complex period?

Step 2: Check the Fine Print

Since the graph seemed questionable, the obvious next step was to ask: Where does this thing come from? Luckily, the source is clearly cited at the bottom: “The Income Inequality of France in Historical Perspective” by Christian Morrisson and Wayne Snyder, published in the European Review of Economic History, Vol. 4, No. 1 (2000).

Great! A proper academic source. But, before diving into the article, there’s a crucial detail tucked into the fine print:

“Data for the bottom 40% in France is extrapolated given a single data point.”

What does that mean?

Extrapolation is a statistical method used to estimate unknown values by extending patterns or trends from a small sample of data. In this case, the graph’s creator used one single piece of data—one solitary data point—about the wealth of the bottom 40% of the French population. They then scaled or applied that one value to represent the entire group across the 30-year period (1760–1790).

Put simply, this means someone found one record—maybe a tax ledger, an income statement, or some financial data—pertaining to one specific year, region, or subset of the bottom 40%, and decided it was representative of the entire demographic for three decades.

Let’s be honest: you don’t need a degree in statistics to know that’s problematic. Using a single data point to make sweeping generalisations about a large, diverse population (let alone across an era of wars, famines, and economic shifts) is a massive leap. In fact, it’s about as reliable as guessing how the internet feels about a topic from a single tweet.

This immediately tells me that whatever numbers they claim for the bottom 40% of the population are, at best, speculative. At worst? Utterly meaningless.

It also raises another question: What kind of serious journal would let something like this slide? So, time to pull up the actual article and see what’s going on.

Step 3: Check the Sources

As I mentioned earlier, the source for this graph is conveniently listed at the bottom of the image. Three clicks later, I had downloaded the actual article: “The Income Inequality of France in Historical Perspective” by Morrisson and Snyder.

The first thing I noticed while skimming through the article? The graph itself is nowhere to be found in the publication.

This is important. It means the person who created the graph didn’t just lift it straight from the article—they derived it from the data in the publication. Now, that’s not necessarily a problem; secondary analysis of published data is common. But here’s the kicker: there’s no explanation in the screenshot of the graph about which dataset or calculations were used to make it. We’re left to guess.

So, to figure this out, I guess I’ll have to dive into the article itself, trying to identify where they might have pulled the numbers from. Translation: I signed myself up to read 20+ pages of economic history. Thrilling stuff.

But hey, someone has to do it. The things I endure to fight disinformation...

Step 4: Actually Assess the Sources Critically

It doesn’t take long, once you start reading the article, to realise that regardless of what the graph is based on, it’s bound to be somewhat unreliable. Right from the first paragraph, the authors of the paper point out the core issue with calculating income for 18th-century French households: THERE IS NO DATA.

The article is refreshingly honest about this. It states multiple times that there were no reliable income distribution estimates in France before World War II. To fill this gap, Morrisson and Snyder used a variety of proxy sources like the Capitation Tax Records (2), historical socio-professional tables, and Isnard’s income distribution estimates (3).

After reading the whole paper, I can say their methodology is intriguing and very reasonable. They’ve pieced together what they could by using available evidence, and their process is quite well thought-out. I won’t rehash their entire argument here, but if you’re curious, I’d genuinely recommend giving it a read.

Most importantly, the authors are painfully aware of the limitations of their approach. They make it very clear that their estimates are a form of educated guesswork—evidence-based, yes, but still guesswork. At no point do they overstate their findings or present their conclusions as definitive

As such, instead of concluding with a single, definitive version of the income distribution, they offer multiple possible scenarios.

It’s not as flashy as a bold, tidy graph, is it? But it’s far more honest—and far more reflective of the complexities involved in reconstructing historical economic data.

Step 5: Run the numbers

Now that we’ve established the authors of the paper don’t actually propose a definitive income distribution, the question remains: where did the creators of the graph get their data? More specifically, which of the proposed distributions did they use?

Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to locate the original article or post containing the graph. Admittedly, I haven’t tried very hard, but the first few pages of Google results just link back to Twitter, Reddit, Facebook, and Tumblr posts. In short, all I have to go on is this screenshot.

I’ll give the graph creators the benefit of the doubt and assume that, in the full article, they explain where they sourced their data. I really hope they do—because they absolutely should.

That being said, based on the information in Morrisson and Snyder’s paper, I’d make an educated guess that the data came from Table 6 or Table 10, as these are the sections where the authors attempt to provide income distribution estimates.

Now, which dataset does the graph use? Spoiler: None of them.

How can we tell? Since I don’t have access to the raw data or the article where this graph might have been originally posted, I resorted to a rather unscientific method: I used a graphical design program to divide each bar of the chart into 2.5% increments and measure the approximate percentage for each income group.

Here’s what I found:

Now, take a moment to spot the issue. Do you see it?

The problem is glaring: NONE of the datasets from the paper fit the graph. Granted, my measurements are just estimates, so there might be some rounding errors. But the discrepancies are impossible to ignore, particularly for the bottom 40% and the top 10%.

In Morrisson and Snyder’s paper, the lowest estimate for the bottom 40% (1st and 2nd quintiles) is 10%. Even if we use the most conservative proxy, the Capitation Tax estimate, it’s 9%. But the graph claims the bottom 40% held only 6%.

For the top 10% (10th decile), the highest estimate in the paper is 53%. Yet the graph inflates this to 60%.

Step 6: For fun, I made my own bar charts

Because I enjoy this sort of thing (yes, this is what I consider fun—I’m a very fun person), I decided to use the data from the paper to create my own bar charts. Here’s what came out:

What do you notice?

While the results don’t exactly scream “healthy economy,” they look much less dramatic than the graph we started with. The creators of the graph have clearly exaggerated the disparities, making inequality seem worse.

Step 7: Understand the context before drawing conclusions

Numbers, by themselves, mean nothing. Absolutely nothing.

I could tell you right now that 47% of people admit to arguing with inanimate objects when they don’t work, with printers being the most common offender, and you’d probably believe it. Why? Because it sounds plausible—printers are frustrating, I’ve used a percentage, and I’ve phrased it in a way that sounds “academic.”

You likely wouldn’t even pause to consider that I’m claiming 3.8 billion people argue with inanimate objects. And let’s be real: 3.8 billion is such an incomprehensibly large number that our brains tend to gloss over it.

If, instead, I said, “Half of your friends probably argue with their printers,” you might stop and think, “Wait, that seems a bit unlikely.” (For the record, I completely made that up—I have no clue how many people yell at their stoves or complain to their toasters.)

The point? Numbers mean nothing unless we put them into context.

The original paper does this well by contextualising its estimates, primarily through the calculation of the Gini coefficient (4).

The authors estimate France’s Gini coefficient in the late 18th century to be 0.59, indicating significant income inequality. However, they compare this figure to other regions and periods to provide a clearer picture:

Amsterdam (1742): Much higher inequality, with a Gini of 0.69.

Britain (1759): Lower inequality, with a Gini of 0.52, which rose to 0.59 by 1801.

Prussia (mid-19th century): Far less inequality, with a Gini of 0.34–0.36.

This comparison shows that income inequality wasn’t unique to France. Other regions experienced similar or even higher levels of inequality without spontaneously erupting into revolution.

Accounting for Variations

The authors also recalculated the Gini coefficient to account for potential variations. They assumed that the income of the top quintile (the wealthiest 20%) could vary by ±10%. Here’s what they found:

If the top quintile earned 10% more, the Gini coefficient rose to 0.66, placing France significantly above other European countries of the time.

If the top quintile earned 10% less, the Gini dropped to 0.55, bringing France closer to Britain’s level.

Ultimately, the authors admit there’s uncertainty about the exact level of inequality in France. Their best guess is that it was comparable to other countries or somewhat worse.

Step 8: Drawing Some Conclusions

Saying that most people in the 18th century were poor and miserable—perhaps the French more so than others—isn’t exactly a compelling statement if your goal is to gather clicks or make a dramatic political point.

It’s incredibly tempting to look at the past and find exactly what we want to see in it. History often acts as a mirror, reflecting our own expectations unless we challenge ourselves to think critically. Whether you call it wishful thinking or confirmation bias, it’s easy to project the future onto the past.

Looking at the initial graph, I understand why someone might fall into this trap. Simple, tidy narratives are appealing to everyone. But if you’ve studied history, you’ll know that such narratives are a myth. Human nature may not have changed in thousands of years, but the contexts we inhabit are so vastly different that direct parallels are meaningless.

So, is revolution imminent? Well, that’s up to you—not some random graph on the internet.

Notes

(1) A la lanterne was a revolutionary cry during the French Revolution, symbolising mob justice where individuals were sometimes hanged from lampposts as a form of public execution

(2) The capitation tax was a fixed head tax implemented in France during the Ancien Régime. It was levied on individuals, with the amount owed determined by their social and professional status. Unlike a proportional income tax, it was based on pre-assigned categories rather than actual earnings, meaning nobles, clergy, and commoners paid different rates regardless of their actual wealth or income.

(3) Jean-Baptiste Isnard was an 18th-century economist. These estimates attempted to describe the theoretical distribution of income among different social classes in pre-revolutionary France. Isnard’s work aimed to categorise income across groups like nobles, clergy, and commoners, providing a broad picture of economic disparity during the period.

(4) The Gini coefficient (or Gini index) is a widely used statistical measure of inequality within a population, specifically in terms of income or wealth distribution. It ranges from 0 to 1, where 0 indicates perfect equality (everyone has the same income or wealth), and 1 represents maximum inequality (one person or household holds all the wealth).

#frev #french revolution #history #disinformation #income inequality #critical thinking #amateurvoltaire's essay ramblings #don't believe everything you see online #even if you really really want to

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scribblesofagoonerr · 23 days ago

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found family | buddy & monkey: double the trouble

summary: how it came to be.

word count: 5097

double the trouble masterlist

Yes this one has been re-wrote in line to fit with monkey's background, and I honestly didn't like the way I wrote the older version.

You never really understood the importance of family, after all, you grew up with an alcoholic and drug addict of a father who made it very well known he didn’t care about you from the very day you were born but meeting Leah and Jordan changed everything for you - They became your found family.

You had been a part of the Arsenal Girls’ Centre of Excellence since you were young, however, if you asked Leah then she would tell you that she’s practically watched you grow up right in front of her.

It was somewhat true at least.

You guess you can say that she has always been there, watching out for you even when you weren’t aware of it. Leah had met you when you were just nine years old, a small and scrawny kid with a magical touch on the ball.

Back when everything was simple and you were a happy kid, you lived with your grandma who was the only real family member that gave a damn about you. She was your dad’s mum but that lady adored you, fussed over you and made sure that you never went without so when she died, you were completely heartbroken.

Everything started to fall apart from there.

You were left to move in with an arsehole of a father who was nothing but neglectful, and he couldn’t have cared less about you. It wasn’t just his words that he lashed out with, but his fists too.

You never properly realised it but Leah made a promise to your grandma before she passed away. A promise to keep you safe from the man that you called your father, but social services deemed him good enough to have you back in his care.

They missed out on seeing the alarm bells. He was convincing enough to make them believe everything was fine, they didn’t see the numerous beer cans strewn around the room nor did they smell the stale smell of cigarettes lingering through the house.

Your father put on an act. It was convincing enough for people to believe for so long, that nobody realised that everything wasn’t as perfect as it seemed behind closed doors until you reached the age of 15.

Five years you had to deal with that man, your dad being so clever to hide the truth, but even best-kept secrets have a way of coming to light eventually.

Leah, of course, always knew something wasn’t right and pieced things together with the information your grandma had given her prior to her passing away.

Your dad never liked that and made sure to try and cut all forms of contact with her when he could.

Leah’s weekly visits to your house dwindled to nothing, and that went for phone calls as well. You were so confused why she stopped showing up, but you never realised your dad was behind it all along.

Leah never failed to show up. It was a promise she never intended to break.

It was your dad that made it more difficult to do so.

During the time of being eased into the first team, ever the observant one that she is, the woman would notice the way that nobody ever came to pick you up after training on the days that you were there.

“Where’s her dad? He’s meant to pick her up,” Leah's concern was vivid as she watched you walk out of training, your dad’s car nowhere to be seen, “She can’t walk home by herself.”

“Calm down, I’m sure there’s a reasonable excuse for him not being there,” Jordan would try to reason with her worried girlfriend, “Perhaps he’s just stuck at work.”

Leah arched her brow, pursing her lips, “I don’t like it.”

“I know you don’t, but even if you offered her a lift, you know she wouldn’t accept it. She never does,” Jordan reminded her girlfriend with a knowing look.

Her concern only got worse though when you would arrive late in the mornings, stumbling in with a messy kit and barely holding it together. The way you would scarf down any leftover snacks at the club like you hadn’t eaten a proper meal in god knows how long didn’t go a miss either.

Leah knew right there and then that something was going on, but of course you didn’t want to tell her.

You were afraid to spill the truth. You didn’t want anyone to know what was going on behind closed doors. You were terrified of your dad, and you knew you would be at the full front of his anger if you told her.

Your dad never did like Leah, or Jordan for that matter. He’d always seen them as a threat to him, even if all they wanted to do was make sure you were okay.

You just realised it, you didn’t want to upset your dad so you went along with whatever he would say in order to keep him happy. But it was still never enough.

You thought you were doing an amazing job of hiding the truth – Keeping your head down, making jokes and pretending like everything was totally fine.

Even when it wasn’t, and Leah was able to see right through it.

“Where the hell is her dad?” Leah couldn’t help but think to herself as she watched you slip out of the door alone.

You were oblivious to realise how Leah would frown every time she sees that you’re alone, or how she would shake her head when she watched you drag your feet in the morning.

And of course, she can see through you acting like a menace.

“I’m telling you Jord, there’s something seriously going on,” Leah brought up the conversation with her girlfriend again as they left training for the day, her own maternal instinct kicking in.

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Jordan attempted to reassure her girlfriend as they made their way over to the car, “The little one is old enough to be able to make her own way home now, anyways.” She added.

“Yeah, but Jord, I feel there’s something more going on,” Leah murmured, her hand resting on her slightly swollen belly, “You can’t deny that you don’t feel like there’s something suspicious going on?” She asked the older woman.

“I don’t know, Le,” Jordan admitted, shrugging her shoulders, “Do you think that maybe, and don’t bite my head off for suggesting this, but do you think you might just be overthinking things? I know you care about the little one, and I know you’re not happy with how everything happened, but…”

“No, Jord,” Leah replied, biting her bottom lip as she tossed her bag in the boot of the car, “I know what you might think, and it’s nothing to do with that. It just seems like something is going on, and I have a gut instinct about this. You know what that man came be like…”

There definitely was something wrong.

Leah couldn’t shake the feeling of something being off, every day she had to stand back and watch you, with that same nagging feeling that things weren’t quite right, and it only grew stronger.

The blondes’ worry only increased, especially on one particularly miserable day when the rain was pouring down – It was the kind of relentless downpour that would soak you to the bone within seconds of being outside – Leah was driving back home from a quick check-up with the physio’s when she spotted you trudging down the road.

You were completely drenched and shivering in the thin jacket that you wore, your kit bag slung over your shoulder as you tried to shield yourself from the rain with the attempt of a flimsy hood.

“What the actual hell…” Leah’s jaw dropped in shock, her eyes widening in disbelief as she couldn’t believe the sight that she was seeing in front of her.

You were there, walking alongside the road in the freezing rain with not a single adult in sight.

Without even thinking twice about it, Leah slowed her car down and pulled up beside you, “Monkey,” She rolled down the window and called your usual familiar nickname to get your attention, “Get in, I’m taking you home. It’s hammering it down and you’re going to get ill in this weather.”

“No, no, it’s alright,” You were quick to disagree, shaking your head as your teeth chattered from the freezing weather, “It’s not much further to walk now. I’m good.”

“Monkey, come on. Let me just give you a ride this once,” Leah was relentless in giving you a ride as she leaned over to open the passenger door, “You’re bound to get ill and I’m not going to let that happen. Your grandma would be swearing at me, wouldn’t she?”

You frowned at the mention of your grandma, even if you knew how true that was. Your grandma definitely would have something to say about that if she could see you know.

You were hesitant to agree to Leah’s offer. You didn’t want to give anything away but couldn’t deny her car’s warmth and safety, knowing it would be better than being out in the terrible weather.

“Okay,” You reluctantly gave in, sliding into the passenger seat as your teeth continued to chatter from the freezing temperatures, “Thanks,” You mumbled, trying to not meet her gaze as you stared down at your sodden trainers.

“It’s okay. You know you can get a lift of me anytime,” Leah said softly, cranking up the heating in the car to help keep you warm, not even needing to ask for your address since she’d been to your dad’s house numerous times before at the start before you started to push them both away, “So… Is there any particular reason you’re out walking alone in this weather?” She asked, trying to tread carefully and not spook you when asking questions.

“Oh, uh, my dad is working late so he couldn’t pick me up today,” You were quick to make up the excuse, knowing full well that if you asked your father for a lift home then he would have most likely laughed in your face.

Leah clicked her tongue in disagreement, “Right,” She murmured, strumming her fingers on the steering wheel, almost like she didn’t believe your words.

You barely believed them yourself.

“Listen, Monkey, you know if you ever need a ride to training or you know, back home… I don’t mind doing that again,” Leah began to talk, glancing over to try and see your reaction, “All you have to do is ask, alright? You know I’m here for you still. I’ll always be here. I made that promise to your grandma.”

“Thanks,” You murmured in a low tone of voice, although you weren’t quite sure if you would ever take her up on that offer.

Trust wasn’t something that came easily to you these days, and you had your walls built so high up around you that even Leah and Jordan, two people who had been in your life for the better part of the last several years, you found it hard to trust them.

It was the only way to protect yourself.

The next week at training, you end up being late again. This time though, you're not just dragging your feet but also feeling pale, and shaky, and you’re barely even able to stand up properly.

It’s not long before your vision has become blurred and you can feel yourself stumbling but before you drop to the floor, Leah’s there in an instant to catch you before you hit the ground.

“Whoa,” Leah held you steady in her arms as she guided you towards the bench in the changing room, “It’s okay. You’re alright. Come take a seat, yeah?” She told you, gently.

“M’ fine,” You murmured, feeling yourself being pushed down onto the hard bench, “M’ good.”

Leah, however, wasn’t so easily convinced, “No you’re not, Monkey. You can barely even stand up,” She paused, routing through her own bag to pull out a protein bar, “Here, eat this. Please.”

You didn’t hesitate to tear into it. The gnawing hunger finally eased up a little bit.

“Monkey,” Leah began as she looked at you in concern, “When was the last time you had a proper meal?” She asked in a soft tone of voice.

You hesitated to answer. Your mind scrambled to remember the last time that you sat down to eat something that wasn’t a hastily grabbed snack, “Uhm…” You stammered, the pause in your response telling Leah everything that she needed to know.

Leah sighed softly and crouched down to meet your eye level, “How about you come around our house for dinner tonight?” She suggested in her usual gentle tone of voice, “You still like pizza, don’t you? We could order that, watch a movie and just chill.”

“I… I don’t know,” You were sceptical to agree, fumbling with your fingers and fidgeting with the hem of your hoodie that you wore, “My dad’s at work, but… if I’m not back by a certain time then he’ll be worried about where I am.”

“I understand, but if your dad’s working then I don’t think he’ll mind you being with us, will he? You are keeping out of mischief then, eh?” Leah joked, lightly nudging you but the way you flinched at the sudden movement made her face flicker with concern, “How about… How about you just come for an hour? You can eat some pizza with us, and I’ll drive you home right after, yeah?”

“Okay, alright, but… just an hour though, I don’t want my dad to worry,” You begrudgingly agree with Leah, knowing that she wouldn’t let it go.

You couldn’t let your dad know where you were though. If he realised you were with Leah and Jordan then he would have hit the roof. He disliked them, for whatever reason and made it very clear that you weren’t to be around them.

It wasn’t that easy though considering you were now going to be in the same team as them.

“Deal,” Leah grinned, relief washing over her face with the promise of a warm meal and some company, even if it was just for an hour, it felt like a small victory in a battle she was determined to win.

“Jord? We’ve got a guest for dinner!” Leah called out, beaming a wide smile as she gently rested her hand on your shoulder, guiding you through the front door of their shared home.

You had never had the opportunity to come here before, but the way it was warm and welcoming was a different contrast to the cold, bleak and mould-infested house that you currently lived in.

Jordan had already made it home before Leah, having already apparently been given a heads up ahead of you coming to their house for dinner so the pizza was already on its way.

You were weary enough to be here, your anxiety felt sky-high in fear that your dad would find out where you were.

Of course, he wasn’t at work like you said, more like down the pub instead, so maybe he wouldn’t care if you were home or not at all?

“Hey, little one!” Jordan’s cheerful smile greeted you as she appeared around the corner, “Pizza’s on its way, why don’t we make our way into the living room and you can choose a film for us to watch?”

“Hi,” You felt like a complete stranger in their home, despite knowing them for several years, fumbling with the loose strings of your club-branded hoodie before Leah gestured for you to follow her into the living room.

“I’ve ordered cheese because of Miss Picky over here,” Jordan teased, pointing her index finger in the direction of Leah, “You okay with that?” She checked.

“It’s okay, I like cheese,” You told her as you settled into your spot on the sofa, and you couldn’t help but note the various baby items scattered throughout the living room. You suddenly felt a bit curious to ask questions, “Are you going to have a baby soon?” The words came out of your mouth before you could even stop them.

“We are,” Leah agreed, her smile gentle as she rested her hands on her growing bump, “It’s only another couple of months to go until we meet our little bubba.”

“Wow,” You murmured in amazement, and you couldn’t help but feel somewhat bitter about the news, “You two are having a baby?”

Weren’t you good enough to be wanted?

“Yeah, we are,” Jordan joined Leah on the sofa, her arm casually draped over the back of Leah’s seat, “We’re really excited to meet them,” She said with a fond smile, but she failed to see the frown that appeared on your face.

“Oh… that’s cool,” You murmured, unsure what else there was to say.

Thankfully, the moment was interrupted by the doorbell ringing which meant the pizza had arrived, and you wouldn’t have to talk anymore about the subject.

“I’ll go and grab that,” Jordan offered as she got up from the sofa, already walking ahead to the front door to retrieve the pizza.

“Monkey…” Leah wanted to ask how you were, but she was afraid to even say the right word at that moment, “You know…” Her words were cut off by Jordan walking back into the living room carrying pizza boxes.

“Pizza smells great,” Jordan interjected, placing it down on the table in the middle, “Help yourself little one. There’s plenty to go around.”

“Thanks,” You were sceptical to even eat a slice of pizza, but you had to remind yourself this house was different, and you couldn’t ignore the hunger you felt in your stomach, so you reached over and picked out a piece to eat.

True to her word, Leah drove you home an hour later. Of course, your dad wasn’t there when you arrived, the lights were off and you entered the empty, stark home where you lived.

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay here by yourself?” Leah’s worry kicked in, the neighbourhood you lived in wasn’t that great, but you were used to it now, “You know, you can come back to ours. You could even spend the night if you wanted?”

As much as you’d have loved to have agreed, you couldn’t. Your dad would no doubt be home at some point later that night, and you knew you would be in trouble if he came home to an empty house.

“I’ll be alright. Thanks for the pizza,” You made a quick exit out of the car, rushing to the front door and opening the door to be hit with the all-too-familiar stale cigarettes and leftover beer.

“Bye, Monkey,” Leah murmured, that all too gut feeling returned that she couldn’t shake off as she drove off back home to Jordan.

You couldn’t let her know what was going on behind closed doors.

“Something is going on… More than what we know,” Leah brought up the conversation with Jordan again later that night as they got into bed, “I’m worried about her, Jord. Tell me you’re not worried about her as well?”

“Of course I am,” Jordan pulled back the duvet and settled in beside her, “You’re not imagining things, Le. There’s definitely something more going on behind closed doors that we don’t know about. She seems so… different. Like she’s on edge, and constantly scared.”

Leah turned to face Jordan, her brows furrowed with frustration and helplessness, “Then what do we do about it? We can’t just ignore it anymore,” She said, her voice wavering, “We both know there’s something wrong, we can’t just sit here and do nothing about it. I’ve stood by and let it happen for way too long– I know social services didn’t deem me capable of looking after her all them years ago, but I’m older now. I’m in a– We’re both in a better financial place to look after her.”

“I know, Le,” Jordan mumbled, exhaling a soft sigh as she wrapped her arms around the blonde and rested a hand on her bump, “I understand you’re worried, I get it babe, I do. I’m just as concerned about her as you are, but we can’t do anything without proof.”

“If anything happens to her, then I… I’ll never forgive myself,” Leah admitted, quietly.

Jordan nodded in agreement, “I know, all we can do for now is be there for the little one. Make sure that’s okay and nothing serious happens,” She said, “I know it’s difficult, and the social makes it impossible, but we’ll be there for her. Even if she doesn’t need us.”

“I… I don’t like this,” Leah mumbled, her mind still restless with thoughts as she lay there staring up at the ceiling with the weight of the spoken promise heavy on her shoulders, “I promised Jean I would take care of her. I’ll do whatever I can to protect our girl. I’ve never broken that promise, and I don’t intend to.” She vowed, ready to act when the time came.

Over the next several weeks, Leah and Jordan made a more conscious effort to keep an eye on you during the time you were training with them – You tried to push them away, but they always made sure to include you in the conversations and ask about how you were doing.

Leah would often always slip you a protein bar when she noticed you hadn’t eaten much, and Jordan would offer you a ride back home, no matter if you tried to refuse it or not.

As much as they both hated to admit it, there was nothing that they could do right now without proof of anything going on.

That was until one day when something more serious happened, and both Leah and Jordan were immediately alert of the situation when you didn’t show up to training at the same time like normal.

If anyone else had been late then they wouldn’t have batted an eye, but their gut instinct that there was something further couldn’t have been more right.

“Maybe she is just running late?” Jordan suggested, weary about it.

Leah’s brow furrowed, shaking her head as she attempted to phone you only for it to go to voice mail again, “She’s not answering her phone. This is unusual for her…” That was cause for concern itself, knowing how glued to your phone you are most of the time.

“She’s not answering her texts either?” Jordan asked.

“No…” Leah exhaled a deep sigh, running her hand through her hair as she attempted to make contact again, “Her phone keeps going to voicemail, and her texts just keep saying they’re left on delivered.”

“Oh,” Jordan mumbled, unsure what else there was to say that wouldn’t further panic Leah.

There was an uneasy feeling that neither of them could shake. When you finally stumbled in the state that you did, bruised and limping, it became clear that something far worse had happened.

“Right, now do you believe me something is going on?” Leah said, urgently, her eyes locking on Jordan’s with a mix of fear and frustration, gesturing towards you while she noticed the bruise on your cheek straight away and the way you favoured one leg, “I knew it. I knew there was something wrong! Nobody else believed me, I knew I was right!”

The concern and protectiveness that Leah had for you was something else.

“I do… I do believe you,” Jordan’s face fell in shock as she took in the sight of you, swallowing a lump that formed in her throat, “But… What do we do now?”

“I’m not standing back and letting it happen any longer, regardless of what social services think!” Leah said determined, her mind already made up, “I know you might think I’m crazy, and well maybe I am, but I want her to move in with us.”

Jordan was a bit more hesitant to agree to the idea, “I… I don’t know, Le. I know you love Monkey and you’re very protective of her, but well, we’re already going to have our hands full with the little ‘un on the way. Aren’t we?” She pointed out gently, trying to remind Leah of their current situation, “Do you really think it’s a good idea? A newborn baby and a teenager, I mean it’s a lot to take on.”

“I don’t care, we can manage it– We can find a way to handle it!” Leah was now more determined than ever with this decision, “I… I know it’s a lot, but I refuse to just sit back and do nothing about this now, Jord. Monkey needs us, Jord, and if we don’t help her then, who will?”

Jordan exhaled a deep sigh, running her hand through her hair as she weighed out the gravity of Leah’s plea, she knew her girlfriend’s heart was in the right place, but the practicality of the situation still loomed large, “Le…”

“Jord,” Leah began to speak, “I made a promise to Jean, I promised her I wouldn’t let him hurt her, and if I don’t do anything now then… then I’ve just failed, haven’t I?”

“Okay,” Jordan finally gave in reluctantly, knowing there was no point in trying to argue about it with her stubborn girlfriend, who had already made her mind up about this - After all, it would be a bad idea to try and disagree with a pregnant lady, “Alright, fine. If this is what you really want to do then I’m on board with it.”

“I do, I really do want to do this,” Leah’s expression softened, a mix of relief and gratitude washing over her as she reached out to squeeze Jordan’s hand, “Thank you! Thank you! I just… I can’t turn my back on her, not now. She needs a safe place, a real home now. She can have that with us.”

“I know, Le,” Jordan said, her grip on Leah’s hand tightening, “I know, and we’ll make it work, whatever it takes– We’ll figure it out together as a team.”

Leah nodded and gave her girlfriend a genuine smile, “As a team,” She repeated, squeezing her hand in reassurance, “Just get ready for the chaos.” She joked.

“Oh with a newborn baby and teenager under one roof? I couldn’t think of anything more chaotic,” Jordan replied playfully, pulling her girlfriend in closer, “But it could also be kind of fun, right?”

“You and I have different versions of fun,” Leah teased, a glimmer of amusement dancing in her eyes, “But yeah, it might just be the best sort of crazy we’ve ever signed up for.”

Getting your dad to agree was surprisingly easier than it should have been. It was a somewhat mutual decision, in the way that he was more than willing to wash his hands off you, and he was so disinterested in you that you swear you saw a genuine smile appear on his face for the first time since you moved in with him.

An actual genuine smile on his face which made you sad about the fact that your dad really couldn't care less about you.

Maybe it was the fact that he never got the son he so badly wanted?

“Have her then,” The man sneered, “I’ve washed my hands off her, she’s your problem now.”

His parting words stung a lot and while Leah’s hands clenched in anger, Jordan’s arm around her kept her grounded.

Leah’s eyes were blazing with anger, “You’re unbelievable,” She spat out, her tone sharp and unfiltered, “Mark, you’ve got a kid right in front of you– A kid who’s done nothing but try to survive despite you, and all you can do is shrug her off like she’s nothing? You can’t don’t even have the decency to pretend to care!”

Jordan just held Leah’s hand tighter, her silent support a calm anchor in the storm of emotions, “Let’s go, Le,” She urged softly, though her gaze was cold and unforgiving as it lingered on your father.

Leah’s anger didn’t fade, if anything, it deepened as she looked at the man who had treated you like a burden instead of his flesh and blood, “She’s not some problem to be handed off. She’s not a mistake that you can ignore. She’s a kid, she’s your kid, and the way you’ve been treating her is disgusting!”

Your dad scoffed as if was barely affected by Leah’s words, “Yeah? Well, she’s your problem now, so good luck,” He repeated in a gruff voice, “I don’t want anything to do with the brat.”

Leah’s jaw tightened, the venom in his words made her stomach churn in disgust. She opened her mouth to say more, but Jordan gently tugged at her arm with a silent reminder that nothing else could be said that would change the man in front of them.

Turning away from your dad, Leah relented as her expression softened when she looked at you, but the fire in her eyes never dimmed, “Let’s just go.”

“Come on, little one,” Jordan protectively guided you out of the house with her arm wrapped around you, Leah and Jordan helped gather the small amount of belongings that you had in this house and left, “Let’s get you out of here. Let’s get you home.”

You should have felt an instant relief leaving that house. But instead, you just felt incredibly sad that the dad who you had grown up with the last five years, regardless of how much a neglectful bastard he was, was and always would still be your dad.

A part of you foolishly hoped that one day he’d see you, really see you, and want you around.

But that never did happen though.

“I know this won’t be easy for you to adjust Monkey,” Leah noticed the flicker of sadness in your eyes and squeezed your shoulder reassuringly, “But you’re not alone now, okay? We’re here and we’re not going anywhere. You’re safe, you’re safe here with us.”

Jordan nodded in agreement, giving you a small encouraging smile, “Le’s right, little one. We’ve got you,” She told you gently, “Whatever you need, whenever you need us. We’re here.”

And from there on, you were about to gain the family that you’d always deserved - A real home, with Leah and Jordan, who cared a hell of a lot about you to fight for you, even when the world seemed to have given up.

#monkey #double the trouble fic #leah williamson x reader #jordan nobbs x reader #woso x reader #woso one shot #scribblesofagoonerr #woso fanfics #woso imagine

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lightseoul · 2 years ago

Text

you and me? really?

synopsis. mina and kirishima invite you to a night out. they conveniently forget to tell you it’s a double date. (part 2)

cw. gn!reader, gradstudent!reader, prohero!katsuki, aged-up (~23 yrs old), mina ashido x kirishima eijirou, fluff

word count. 1.7k words

Mina whines as you drag her into the bathroom of Kozue—the first red flag you should’ve noticed (who hosts a massive group hangout at an expensive ass restaurant?!)—but you’re far too angry to pay her any mind. She winces in disdain as you finally let her wrist go.

“Where’s everyone else?!” You whisper-shout.

“Uhh.. I might’ve left out a few details about this hangout.”

You can’t believe this girl. “No shit, Sherlock,” you sigh in exasperation. “Mina, you lied to me?”

Her eyes bug out in alarm, “I didn’t! I would never lie to you, you know that. As I said, I just omitted a few details.”

“Let me guess, like the fact that aside from you, me, and Eiji, the only other person attending is Bakugou?”

She lets out a squeak. Of guilt or excitement, you can’t tell.

You can’t help but roll your eyes, “Wipe that grin off your face. And you know he and I don’t really get along! And people can recognize you guys and think we’re on a double date. I barely even know the guy and his PR Team will be coming for my head tomorrow morning.”

“You don’t know that! You only met him once during the end of our patrol. He just gets extra snappy when he’s tired,” she giggles. “Oh, and don’t worry about the press. The chef owes Bakugou one—he offered to clear the restaurant just for tonight.”

You can’t believe your ears. Oh, to have the power and influence of a Pro Hero.

You shake your head in (another form of) disbelief, “So you’re not gonna say anything about you roping me into a double date?”

“Nope!” she exclaims cheerfully, turning her back to exit the bathroom. You follow suit, though unlike her, you’re not done with the conversation.

“How’d you guys manage to rope him into this, anyway?” You’d keep your voice down as you weave through the exquisitely prepped tables, but true to Mina’s word, there’s no one else around except Kirishima and Bakugou, who are seated at the far corner overlooking the city.

“Eiji used the same tactic,” she sing-songs. “He got annoyed earlier when he realized his predicament, but Eiji managed to talk him into staying. Said it would be cruel to leave you as our third wheel, or something.”

You chuckle despite yourself. Mina turns to grin at you.

“Right on.”

Turns out, dinner’s not half as bad as you thought it would be.

And regarding Bakugou? Well, the jury’s still out.

You can tell he’s barely fitting into the small chair beside you—which is actually regular-sized but dwarfs in comparison to his hulking figure—visibly uncomfortable.

He’s sporting a black long-sleeve, rolled up to his forearms, and slacks in light of the semi-formal dress code—the very code you panicked over earlier upon realizing that you didn’t have anything to wear. Luckily enough, you managed to dig out a good enough LBD, and opted to dress it up with some gold accessories you’ve had since college. And now you look even more like you’re on a date: matching colors and all. Great.

Kirishima, ever trusty Kirishima, just had to talk about your awkward situation among the group. (Which was incredibly unnecessary. Why not just ignore the elephant in the room?)

“We just missed the both of you!” he exclaims, while Mina, to his left, nods vigorously in agreement. “We haven’t caught up in a while. And, we figured we could be efficient and host a hangout instead—the four of us!”

Bakugou scoffs, looking away, “You guys are such a fuckin’ married couple already, with all that ‘we’ shit ya got going on. Makes me wanna gag.”

Your eyes widen in shock at his brazenness, but you can’t help but let out a stunned laugh.

His eyes flicker to yours at the sound. You could’ve sworn you saw the corners of his lips turn upward for a second before his infamous scowl took over his face again. Could’ve been amusement, but what’s that to you, right?

Mina pouts at his comment, while Kirishima only laughs wholeheartedly. Both brush it off, though, and you chalk it up to how they’ve gotten used to Bakugou’s bluntness after almost 10 years of seeing each other grow up.

“Anyway,” Mina interjects, “as we were saying, we missed you guys and also, thought both of you could use the company!”

“Ouch..?”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

You turn to address Bakugou, whose eyebrows are so furrowed deep into a scowl you’ve half a mind to press a finger against it so he wouldn’t wrinkle so early. “I think they think we’re lonely.”

You look at the lovebirds, “But thanks, though. I appreciate the thought and your inviting us out. It’s been a while since I took the time off of grad school and working part-time at Manual’s. Though,” you spare Bakugou a glance, who eyes you curiously, “I’m pretty sure he can get all sorts of company if he wanted to.”

What’s meant to be a factual observation turned into a flirtatious comment the second Mina and Kirishima lit up, both piqued with interest. Suddenly, you’re regretting all the life decisions that led you to this moment.

“Oooh, what’s that supposed to mean?!” Mina exclaims, clearly delighted, while Kirishima’s eyes flicker between the both of you, wearing a shit-eating grin.

You can’t bring yourself to look at Bakugou.

“What?” you’re exasperated at this point, “I’m just saying,” you gesture vaguely to the guy in question, “Bakugou’s objectively attractive. The three of you are!”

“Uh-huh.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“I’m serious!” you spring to your feet, “Hell, your entire UA class is! Well, except for Mineta, I guess.”

You hear a suppressed bark of laughter to your left. Mina and Kirishima are cracking up now, too. Suddenly feeling self-conscious about getting all riled up over their teasing, you sat back down.

“I’m sure all of you have experience and can score just about anyone.” You finish your rant, glad you got to wrap it up nicely before the two could get even further with teasing you about Bakugou in front of Bakugou.

You hear him grunt in response and see him, through your periphery, look down at his fancy plate of Porcini Mushroom Velouté. Finally, someone who agrees. Though, weirdly enough, it didn’t feel as good as you thought it would..

“Sorry for teasing you, Y/N!” Kirishima laughs, albeit quite sheepishly.

Mina nods, “But really, though, we’re glad you could come. Both of you.”

“Has he texted you yet?!”

You look back at the course syllabus and mountains of textbooks stacked on your desk, and you can’t help but heave a heavy sigh, “Really? This is what you called and dragged me out of my deep work for?”

“Come on!” Mina always sounds so cheerful and perky, talking to her makes you feel like you’re not 5 seconds away from crashing and sleeping through what’s supposed to be a serious study night. “He hasn’t, has he?”

“Well,” you decide to indulge her, “No other man has texted me in the last 24 hours except my Uber driver, so I guess my answer to that is no?”

“Very funny, Y/N. Ha ha.”

You grin in amusement. Two can play at this game.

You can hear her mutter a soft curse at the other end of the line, “Damn that Bakugou! He’s sure taking his sweet old time. After all that trouble of getting him to accept your number.”

“Cut it off, Mina. You should’ve tricked someone else who could actually be a good match for him instead of me.”

“What?!” she actually sounded shocked, “I didn’t choose you because you were convenient!”

“Thanks,” you deadpanned.

“Y/N! Sure, tricking you into joining was convenient, because you are both my and Eiji’s best friend, though I don’t think I need to explain that.”

“Sure, go on.”

You can practically hear Mina roll her eyes, “FY fricken I, both Eiji and I think you and Bakugou are a great match. You’re both driven, smart, and no-nonsense individuals who think they’re too busy and grown for romance.”

“That honestly sounds like a recipe for disaster, Mina.”

“People like you think that! But trust me, once you find the one, romance doesn’t seem so bad after all!”

“It doesn’t matter,” you mumble. “The lack of texts says enough. He probably just doesn’t think I’m interesting. So cut it off, please?”

You should’ve known better than to expect Mina to let things go just like that.

“Didn’t you see how he reacted when you called him attractive? He got so embarrassed, all red in the neck and ears. Eiji and I couldn’t stop talking about it last night—we’ve rarely seen him like that.”

You huff in slight irritation (and embarrassment), “It’s because you guys wouldn’t stop teasing us. I’d be flustered too if my friends kept tormenting me like that.”

Mina cackles, “Well, you were the one that gave us classic material to work with.”

“I’m hanging up.”

“No, wait!”

You sigh for the nth time in this conversation, “I was busy trying to hype you up and convince all of you of your attractiveness, thank you very much. So no, I didn’t see his reaction.”

“Yeah, that was very kind of you,” Mina exhales wistfully. “Anyway, I’d dare say he even got disappointed when you started complimenting me and Eiji too!”

You could only hear a second of her high-pitched laugh before clicking the End Call button.

Normally, hanging up on your best friend would make you feel bad, no matter how angry or annoyed you were at her.

But this? This is an emergency.

You clutch your heart, which is now hammering at an alarmingly faster pace than normal.

Fuck, you think to yourself. You cannot be crushing on Bakugou Katsuki.

Before you can spiral and go into an I-can’t-have-a-crush-much-less-on-a-pro-hero-named-Bakugou-induced panic, your phone chimes, indicating a new text message.

You bring it up to eye level, and you can’t help but gawk when you finally see the message content.

Hey, it's Bakugou.

#bnha imagines #mha imagines #bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou imagines #bnha scenarios #mha scenarios #bakugou fluff #bakugo x reader #bakugo x y/n #i haven't written in MONTHS oh my lord #starting to get out of my depressive episode and this is a good sign LMAO #i hope you guys like it!!!#i enjoyed writing this #very self-indulgent lmao

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marsprincess889 · 25 days ago

Text

Astrology rant

I hope astro blogs and astro lovers read this

...

Hi guys I hope you're doing well🤍

These months(17 of them?) of running an astro blog have made me see a variety of opinions regarding a lot of things, mainly_ astrology.

I want to say that this is obviously social media and it's barely a solid, reliable place for sharing or getting info, but on the other side of this, the freedom of internet and, at least relative anonimity can produce truly remarkable insights/statements that you won't see anywhere else. You can never know how true or untrue someone can be unless you really read what they've written(or listen to what they've recorded) and take it in.

But it is still so rare for me to find a blog that shares most of my views. I mean, anyone with an access to internet can start an astrology blog. It's so easy to copy and paste articles on the internet and put them here. They can get thousands of notes and people will believe them and share that unverified info that's been distorted through copying and repetition, to others(which is a whole another, very sad story).

And on most days I just mind my business and work on myself, not wanting to even go close to that energy. I might politely comment on posts that seem false to me, just expressing my suspicions or opinions and asking for theirs in return, but to be very honest, I am tired of seeing the same faulty takes and overall approach. So here are some things that, to me, are just ???? so questionable to say the least(with added reasons):

1. Mixing Vedic and Western

In many ways.

Outer planets that are only used in Western? Sure, here are descriptions and "observations" of them in Vedic nakshatras.

Asteroids that Vedic does not look at? Here are explanations of them in nakshatras too. (But there's an exception that I talk about later)

Western composite and synastry aspects? Yeah here is their analysis based on Vedic charts.

And so many more.

It's not a question of whether their "formulas" mix or not, but a question of integrity and of what you follow.

2. Nakshatras in D9(navamsa) and other divisional charts (!)

Whyyyyyy. Just tell me why.

I don't think anyone who uses nakshatras in any divisional chart has really thought about it.

And before they make say to me something like "you should be open minded" or "people resonate with it"(people are complex and can resonate to many things but nakshatras in divisional charts are not the explanation behind that), they should just read my post on my pinned masterlist about that.

Like I'm this 🤏 close to launching an inquisition to just call out every blog who does this, because it's alarming how many people can defend an illogical point with such unwillingness to see the opposite take.

I feel strongly about this one and I kinda judge people who go with it.

There are no nakshatrs in D9 cause divisional signs are hypothetical, nakshatras are actual stars in the sky. Case closed.

3. Asteroid obsession

Look guys, I love asteroids as much as the next person, if not more. And it makes sense for astrology lovers to be really into asteroids, since astrology is mythological already and asteroids open up a whole variety of different mythological associations and, with them, the potential of embodying them.

But here's where most people can reach error: asteroids cannot be holding the same influence/power as other planets.

There are so many posts with lengthy descriptions of asteroid placements in signs, houses or them aspecting planets with sextiles, trines(those aspects don't matter in most cases when it comes to asteroids).

I think asteroids only ever really hold power if they are closely(4 degrees at most) conjunct or opposite big three or other important planets, and important planets/points are unique to each chart. Asteroid interpretation requires realness with yourself and others and, more importantly, common sense. And yeah, you can interpret them in nakshatras ONLY IF they are tightly conjunct an important planet and you have some examples.

I've seen a lot of obsession with asteroids such as Lilith, Aphrodite, Sirene, Groom, Briede.

Yeah online astrology can generate the need to compare yourself to others, which is silly, cause all charts are unique and have a unique beauty, and there's no such things as "more" or "less" unique anything.

4. Making stuff up

Ok here I'm talking about takes that are barely backed by valid examples.

Like when a blog attributes a theme or a pattern to a placement that has not a lot in common with its original association and/or is backed by examples that are not really viable.

Like when someone says: "Ashwini is associated with .......(insert some specific scenario/trope). Examples: *this actor*_ mars in Ashwini, *this actress*_ D9 ketu in Ashwini(are you for real...), *this person*_ their D393747838 Mercury in Ashwini, time unspecified so might be Bharani."

I know this sounds exaggerated(the last example obviously is) but I've really seen blogs where mars or venus or mercury(jupiter and saturn too) are used as exmaples for a nakshatra. And I've seen a whole blog that focuses on D60 ketu nakshatras a lot.

Now, I think that stems from a desire to associate specific feelings/vibes and themes that they are into with placements that they most likely have, in a way that feels original. But you can't just take vague feelings/suspicions and present them as logical observations or facts, it doesn't work like that😭

A lot of "vibes" or feelings that I had about nakshatras did turn out to be true, but I had to wait to find proof myself, and sometimes the observations can change a little after discovering solid examples and it makes it all clear.

5. Shallow Stereotyping

I know, astrology is built on "strerotypes", but to me they're more archetypes.

A lot of narrow stereotyping can come from more influential astrologers.

This is especially common in Vedic astrology and with people who follow Claire Nakti.

For example, with her, I love how she uses art and real life people as examples but she too can make mistakes. And she has, and if she discovers them, she adds them as disclaimers in her descriptions.

I think sometimes she can be narrow with her observations, which isn't necessarily bad, but when people see those as undisputably true and more important than their own or other astrologers' observations, then it is.

For example, she made 3 videos about Bharani but I still think she missed some important themes because she was stuck on providing more and more detail for the same point😭

Trusting influential astrologers blindly and quoting/paraphrasing them to prove their own points is a real epidemic.

Just fyi, crediting them while proving their point with your own examples is not the same.

So, anyone can make mistakes, and everyone should be open to changing their mind, but never without real examples and proof.

6. Style over substance

Possibly the biggest problem that is the root of most of other problems in this "community".

The reason why astrology became pop is because of simplifications and, more importantly, flashy images and words.

I've already made a post about how harmful I think the irresponsibility of sharing faulty astrological info is. I'm disturbed by all that manic energy around a thing that should be low-pressure but valid and educational.

I don't think astrology is meant to help you make desicions in a direct way, or to be used as the ultimate filter to judge others and look at the world. It's not the end-all be-all truth at all, not at all. But it is something that a lot of people take seriously and I just have little to no respect for blogs that use AI or don't care for logic or facts.

People here can argue and defend AI in astrology😭 they can irresponsibly make contradictory statements, have no verified observations of their own whatsoever and still act like the expert while interacting or posting.

That's all I wanna say about this right now.

...

Comment, reblog, message me, like even, whatever. I want to know what others think about any of this.

#vedic astrology #astrology #nakshatras #astrology observations #sidereal astrology #astro notes #astrology tumblr #ask #vedic astrology observation #adtrology observation #asteroids #lilith asteroid #aphrodite asteroid #astrology chart #astrology aspects #astrology planets

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reignpage · 2 months ago

Note

Hi reign! Your Eden AU is everything to me 🙏 I was wondering if you’d be interested in writing mundane things about the boys and their readers? Something like the way they take their tea or what their night/morning routines are. I love the idea of knowing their characters more outside of their relationships 🩷

morning routine:

Gojo

Wake up early cause of his alarm, he has some morning classes and lecturs, doesn't go to them Goes back to sleep Wakes up in the afternoon Does some work if he feels like it, never really needs to revise, he's pretty smart Breakfast is pancakes and lots and lots of syrup, just whatever's in the pantry, or he'll go eat donuts, it's actually so bad Best believe, he'll start eating greens when he gets with reader

Reader

wakes up late too hates waking up hates the sun hates everything but forces herself to go to her lectures and classes, just don't talk to her (not that anyone does) won't eat breakfast, doesn't believe it in, think it's Big Cereal at work but is very healthy apart from that, eats a big lunch and likely goes back to sleep if her afternoon is free

Geto

often doesnt sleep at all cause he's kept up by nightmares and artistic ideas he just needs to put to paper doesn't eat breakfast, maybe drinks tea cause he's sophisticated like that somestimes goes off to ride on his motorcycle at 5am if he's feeling very restless or heads off to the garage to work on his bikes or get some business done

Reader

wakes up early, like 7am with the sun meditates eats acai bowls if she can be bothered does some reading, listens to true crime podcasts goes to every class and lecture goes to some societyes like book club and crocheting

Choso

asleep all day sometimes that's why he doesn't go to class, it's cause he's asleep he also likes to go home sometimes and just hang out with Yuji, sometimes steals him away from kindergarten paints a lot, just very angsty and emo does that thing where he hangs around a brick wall, leans against it all mysterious and smokes or goes to skateparks breakfast is a cig that's how he gets his abs frfr

Reader

wakes up pretty late likes to just paint whilst listening to music might visit some art galleries or go for brunch with her friends but most of the time she's in the art building in a studio's she's booked really getting lost in her art sometimes likes to bike around campus and say hi to people (she's actually pretty popular because of her general cheerful disposition) breakfast is something quick like toast or a bagel she buys from a local deli

Toji

hates waking up early but has to do it anyways goes for a morning run around 6am maybe shoots some hoops or whatever you call it idk sports and then goes back to sleep gets up late in the afternoon doesn't go to class very often has to maintain a certain grade and attendance but when you're a friend of Sukuna, well... breakfast is healthy bowl of fruit boiled eggs protein shake

Reader

wakes up at a normal time goes to every class and lecture so she wakes up when she needs to spends a lot of time just doing work and making applications but she puts on the recent voicemails from her Insider's Line as white noise and if she hears something really juicy then her attention gets taken away and she focuses on that breakfast is a candy bar or popcorn, she just can't be bothered to eat healthy cause that means going to the store and it's so far away (it's a five minute walk)

Nanami

wakes up early, 7am every day drinks coffee during weekdays tea on weekends/holidays peppermint or green tea to be specific reads newspapers, goes on every news platforms and reads up on current events likes to read any new scientific publication listens to podcasts (doesn't really listen to music) on his commute makes a healthy, balanced breakfast if he has time but most times he doesnt cause there's always just so much work to do

Reader

sleeps through every alarm has to be shaken away grumpy in the morning needs her coffee which is just full of sugar that's her breakfast doesn't go to her morning lectures unless it's the ones she shares with Nanami has one class with him and that's the only one she has 100% attendance, until now.... she only listens to upbeat songs in the morning so she can get pumped up

Sukuna

wakes up early goes to basketball practice goes to the gym does his homework catches up on family news and affairs, goes to family meetings and business trips etc etc attends classes when he's free or if the topic interests him but generally speaking you shouldn't expect him there eats a balanced breakfast, same as Toji cause he is an athelete and he believes his body is a temple and yada yada yada

Reader

Wakes up early too Has lots of work She has to meet the trustees or investors or potential students has to file this, fill out that, write this and so on and so forth not to mention being a law student and the buttload of readings to do very diligent though gets it all done somehow she goes to campus even if she has no classes very much from 9am to midnight and sometimes even past that if there's just a lot to do stays in the library all day breakfast is something quick like toast but she often doesn't have time to and just eats granola bars she gets from the canteen

night routine

Gojo

parties all night and if he's not partying then he's watching movies and shows gets takeaway for dinner sometimes he does have to go to the family and do some traditional bs like pray for their ancestors or something hatessss that but loves seeing his grandpa (the patriarch) tho sleeps around 2am, later if he's at a party sometimes he's not in a mood to party, he just likes the noise

Reader

watches true crime documentaries to unwind drinks some concoction she calls tea maybe smokes some dried rose petals or something goes to the hospital as often as she can goes to sleep at a good time but will be on her phone for a while also the type who needs to masturbate to sleep lol

Geto

doesn't really sleep again drives around or works out angstily stays up last in the studio, likes to shoulder the burden of closing and wrapping up so his employees can go ahead also likes to just go through his mail and dms for next pro bono case eats lots of meat, like steak tbh sometimes when he's extra bored, he'll actually attend a party with gojo and Nanami's reader regrets it very quickly though so they often just go out in the streets or sits on the roof and shares a cig

Reader

does face masks drinks tea salad and salmon type of girl watches true crime documentaries maybe does some drawing and painting or reads a book by the window very chill very classy clean girl energy fr

Choso

up all night paints vandalises private property listens to metal forgets to eat sometimes has to do family business stuff but he's usually allowed to sit out or just no directly participates they sometimes leave him to take care of the kids sometimes likes to hang around reader's place like Edward Cullen

Reader

Often with friends at night doing movie marathons or having dinner pretty social sometimes gets stuck in the art building she falls asleep as she's painting and she's been locked in a couple times has even gotten friendly with the groundskeeper comes home late sleeps pretty soon after that

Toji

sleeps at a decent time knows the importance of getting his sleep goes to parties like maybe 3-4 times a week sleeps with at least one girl a day tbh sometimes can't sleep, in which case he'll be at the gym or shooting hoops again likes to go see his brother when he can eats healthy again boiled chicken and salad or something equally depressing

Reader

sleeps late writes a lot reads a lot scrolls on her phone feeling a little envious of all the fun people are having when she was dating her bf, she'd always have to wait up for him cause he gets really drunk and doesn't know how to get home and she felt a lot of dread at him coming over and expecting sex but now she's just living her best life getting all the good sex she deserves with toji even goes to parties with him now

Nanami

Sleeps late cause of all the work he has to do eats pizza if Haibara's ordered in but prefers homemade meals reads until he feels sleepy pretty boring tbh unless he needs to jerk off cause his reader was especially bold that day

Reader

sleeps late parties all night sometimes she's all partied out and in which case she watches true crime docs with her sister or horror movies and sequels and complains about everything they go home pretty often too to go see their parents online shops until dawn sometimes very messy no routine

Sukuna

sleeps late sometimes doesn't sleep at all creeps around night like Batman goes to parties just to sneer at the drunk people also likes to cause trouble if he's bored so he'll make some guys fight or put something in the way so they'll trip and fall just likes to push people around him maybe tries to steal a girl's virginity or something eats pretty normal Uraume always makes sure he gets his 5 a day

Reader

sleeps late also sometimes doesn't get any sleep if she's very very busy or very very stressed stays up late dreaming of all the ways she can make her enemies suffer she's so me fr also stalks people online cause she likes to know what's happening around campus eats healthy tho lays out her outfit for the next day journals has a minute by minute schedule

#modern au #reignpageasks

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brigdh · 1 year ago

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I want to talk about Izzy's rant to Ed in episode 10, the one that brings out the Kraken. I've seen a lot of different descriptions of what is going on in this scene – death threat, homophobic slurs, etc – and I don't think either of those are what's actually what's happening.

Let's look at it closely, line by line, and the way Ed reacts, from the very beginning of the scene.

Ed: Well, feels nice to tidy up a little. Can't believe I was living like this. Can you, Iz? Izzy? Izzy: I'm going to speak plainly. Ed: Wonderful. You know we share our thoughts on this ship.

Izzy, cont: This, whatever it is that you've become... is a fate worse than death.

Okay. So there we've got what some have interpreted as a death threat. But does Ed seem threatened? He's startled, certainly, put on his back foot – literally – but he doesn't look afraid or alarmed to me. He draws in a slow breath, assessing the situation, but overall seems more confused than frightened.

In fact he laughs it off with his next line:

Izzy then escalates the level of aggression in the conversation:

But Ed, again, looks more confused than anything. Check out that furrowed brow, that head tilt! This is a man going "what is your deal?", not a man thinking "uh-oh, you might kill me!".

Extremely noticeably, even when Izzy storms right up into his face, Ed holds steady. He doesn't run, doesn't lean back, doesn't hunch his shoulders or drop eye contact – there is no vulnerability or defensiveness in Ed's body language at all. Ed is in supreme control of this confrontation – look at the slow way he deigns to turn back to the paper Izzy's holding! As though he's making the point that he chooses when to turn, not Izzy:

Then we have the "homophobic slur". But watch closely:

Ed does not react to "namby-pamby", "silk gown", or "pining" at all. He doesn't even blink. He barely seems like he's hearing Izzy. His entire attention is on the picture.

Ed's body language and behavior changes at one word and one word only, and that is "boyfriend". As soon as Izzy says it, Ed's furious:

(It's even easier to notice when you actually watch the scene instead of using gifs, because Izzy really draws out 'piiiiiiining', putting a lot of time between the first half of the sentence and 'boyfriend'.)

Why is the use of the word 'boyfriend' so important?

Well, what has Ed been doing all episode? He's been crying in a blanket fort and singing sad songs, yes, but he's been keeping a careful level of mystique about why he's doing it. Ed often uses distanced circumlocutions instead of directly acknowledging his emotions, but he's doing it in this episode even more so than usual:

Here are the lyrics to his song:

(Version one, with Lucius) Hanging on By a thread Hanging on Shouldn't let go If I let go, all will fall Fingers bleeding down to the bone now Can't let go Nothing makes sense Hold on Hold on Hold... on

(Version two, performed for the whole crew) Just let go Make yourself let go Make it go away Away, away today Life's a hard sad death And then you're Deaaad

Notice something? There is no mention of Stede, or love, or break-ups, or abandonments, or relationships in general. All Ed discusses is a vague life-sucks attitude, which could apply to basically anyone under any circumstances. He seems pretty okay with people knowing that Blackbeard is having some sort of weird emotional breakdown as long as he convinces himself that no one knows it's specifically from having his heart broken

This is true of everything Ed says and does for this entire episode. He never once even mentions Stede's name, unless "Farewell, Bonnet's playthings" at the very end counts. The only thing Ed openly admits to feeling bad about is a fictional character who's having a hard time "holding on" (holding on to what? he never says). There are no allusions to heartbreak or romance anywhere in his dialogue.

Now, Ed's not stupid. I'm sure he knows Izzy and Lucius and the rest of the crew can connect the dots and realize that something bad happened with Stede, even if Ed doesn't fill them in on the details. But Ed is also traumatized, and has a whole host of coping mechanisms set up to help him avoiding thinking about things that he doesn't want to think about. If he's not a murderer because "technically the fire killed those guys", then no one knows he's heartbroken because technically he hasn't acknowledged it.

Until Izzy says the word 'boyfriend'. Suddenly the secret is out, and Ed can't handle it. Izzy knows his weakness. That's why this word effects Ed more than anything else Izzy says in the whole scene.

At the end of the confrontation, he hears the crew calling for another song. Look at Ed here. He looks as haunted, as disturbed, in this moment as he does at any point in Izzy's rant.

This is an important part of the scene, not just a closing note. Because if Izzy (the Caribbean's most emotionally constipated man) can see through him, obviously the whole crew can too.

Obviously Lucius – who advised Ed on his and Stede's relationship, who played along with Ed's 'fictional character' claim, who wrote down Ed's lyrics – can do so most of all.

There's a direct emotional logic to Ed killing Lucius because he had a fight with Izzy, and it doesn't involve Ed having been threatened or hate crime'd at all. Ed doesn't deal well with his own feelings (from Stede), so he chooses to become Blackbeard/the Kraken and gets rid of all the witnesses who saw otherwise.

#meta #our flag means death #I've been thinking about writing this up for a while but finally got motivated to finish it before S2

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lillotte17 · 3 months ago

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The Music Room

SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS‼- Do Not Read unless you have completed the Dread Wolf's Regrets quest!!!!

AN: I have not finished the game, so I don't know if this will actually be part of my canon yet, but the world is currently awful and I...needed to be making something. But as I said: I have NOT finished the game yet, so if you leave a comment (pls and thank) do NOT write anything with spoilers in it!!!

Okay, on with the show!

Rill finds Inquisitor Lavellan sitting at the harpsichord in the music room. All of the other rooms at the Lighthouse had seemed barren when they had first started using it as their base, and even this one had apparently been used as some sort of storage space -there was an alarming amount of cheese for some reason- but the quiet here feels different in a way that is hard to quantify. Peaceful, as opposed to desolate. The light pouring through the windows is always bright in here. Always warm. The murals on the walls were still vivid when they came. Colorful and new. The most prominent one bears the symbol of the Inquisition flanked by howling wolves.

The woman contemplating it does not look like the fearsome hero who closed a hole in the sky and stopped the southern half of the world from falling into chaos, though. She looks small. And tired. And sad.

Rill clears her throat, feeling awkward.

“So. Not trying to complain or anything, but when you asked to come here, you did say that you could help by giving us insight into Solas’ history and his way of thinking and… Well. You were pretty quiet in there while we watched those memories.”

“I know,” Aili sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I’m sorry. I’m just… I knew some of it. Bits of things he told me himself. Things I figured out…afterwards. And I knew there would be more. More I didn’t know. He’s thousands of years old, so I knew that the story of his life would be more than what he had told me, but…”

“It’s a lot.” Rill hums in agreement.

“Bit of an understatement,” Aili snorts. Her gaze drifts down, and she runs her fingers over the instrument in front of her. “…I didn’t even know he played.”

“So, tell me what you do know,” Rill says, casually plopping down onto a nearby crate, “It’s probably more helpful than you think.”

“I know… I know that he hates tea.”

“Right. Noted. Probably shouldn’t offer him any of Lucanis’ coffee either, then.” Rill grins, folding her arms across her chest.

“Probably not,” Aili agrees, returning the smile faintly. “He has a sweet tooth, though. He loves books. Loves learning. And teaching, too. He was always happy to share stories about places he had been, or spirits he had talked to. He paints beautifully. And he sketches, too. He doesn’t laugh very often, but when he does, it’s…”

She trails off, her face creased with grief and faint traces of longing.

“I’m sorry.” She says again.

Rill shakes her head at the apology but gives her a curious look afterwards.

“You said that Solas was important to you; I’m guessing you didn’t mean that you were just really good friends?”

Aili shrugs.

“I thought that we were…something.” She glances around the room again, eyes landing on the mural of the slain dragon and the mourning wolf above it. “Now I’m not sure if even that was true.”

“Is that something he would lie about?” Rill wonders, her eyebrows ticking upwards, “Because that would be some valuable insight. He doesn’t strike me as the sort to use seduction as a manipulation tactic, but he seems comfortable twisting the truth about everything else, so…”

Aili sits for a moment in silence, frowning in consideration before finally shaking her he in the negative.

“It’s… No.” She fumbles briefly. “I know that given…given everything we’ve seen, it might be hard to believe, but… He has a kind heart. Truly. He wants to do the right thing. He believes in justice, and he wants things to be fair. He wants to help people when he sees them suffering. And he blames himself when he can’t. He just…comes to the wrong conclusions, sometimes, and he struggles to ask for help when he needs it. He… There would be no reason to -no point- in lying about his feelings for me. I was already his friend, and I took his advice seriously. He had my ear and my protection. He wouldn’t get anything out of it unless his intention was to be needlessly cruel, and…he’s not like that. He isn’t.”

“Then why were you doubting that you had something?”

“It’s…complicated.” Aili sighs. “It’s about time, I think. Or at least, part of it is. He feels things deeply. Passionately. Even if you can’t tell which words he’s telling you are true, you can always tell when something matters to him. And this place… Mythal is everywhere. In every mural. In every room. Statues. Paintings. Symbols. Everything is about her. For her. Even now. Even after taking Flemeth’s power and essentially killing her himself. His love for her, whatever shape or form it might have had, has colored every aspect of his life since the beginning of the world. And compared to that…”

She taps a single key on the harpsichord, letting out a high clear note.

“Mythal is the All-Mother. The Protecter. The bright and beguiling moon. And I…I am barely a candle flame.”

“You’re the Inquisitor. The Savior of the South. People still call you the ‘Herald of Andraste.’ You disbanded the Inquisition, and still managed to bring enough people together to hold back the darkspawn hordes while I fight the gods up here in the North. I think you might be selling yourself a bit short.” Rill says with a curl of her lips, trying to be kind.

“There will always be heroes, just as there will always be despots. I’m hardly unique in that respect.” Aili replies, striking another key. “A puny mortal striking back at false gods probably reminded him of his own past. His own struggles. Maybe that was it. Maybe there’s even something about me that made him think of Mythal. I don’t know. I don’t know what he saw in me. Or thought he saw. But look around. There are a few Inquisition symbols in this room, but beyond that… There is no trace of me in this place. Nothing he held onto. Nothing he felt was worth keeping.”

Rill frowns. Fidgeting with her hands. Itching to pull out a blade to play with, but uncertain if the move would been seen as a threat.

“Sorry.” She offers after a few moments of silence. “I try not to talk to him very often, for obvious reasons. It’s still a bit creepy, if I’m being honest. Even if I did, though, I don’t think his romantic life would be something he’d be keen to tell me about.”

“It’s not your fault,” Aili assures her with a smile that does not reach her eyes, “He wasn’t keen to tell me either.”

“The Fade’s a funny place, though,” Rill says, gesturing at their surroundings, “I’m not always sure which bits of the things we’ve found here are from Solas, and which things we brought along ourselves. Lucanis found a book he used to read as a kid. Harding says she can smell her mom’s cooking sometimes. Neve said she can hear the sea when she wakes up in the mornings. Things like that, you know?”

The Inquisitor nods.

“Not surprising, given the nature of this place and the person who built it.” Aili says. “This was a refuge. For spirits and slaves fleeing tyranny. And for Solas himself, too. It wants to be welcoming. It wants you to feel safe.”

“It was different when we got here, though.” Rill tells her. “Bit empty. Bit sad. Lonely, almost.”

“Sounds like Solas,” Aili sighs, something close to exasperated fondness.

“This room though…” Rill sits up straighter, turning her head to glance at the sunlight painting patterns on the already painted walls. “It was always like this. It may be small and tucked away, but it’s honestly one of my favorite places in the Lighthouse. It’s always a little warmer in here. The sun’s always shining through the windows. The quiet in here feels like…comfort. Like home.”

“I feel like you’re trying to lead me somewhere, but I’m not sure where it is,” Aili chuckles.

“Well, you said it yourself, didn’t you?” Rill grins back at her, “This is the only room with Inquisition symbols in it.”

Aili blinks. Makes a face.

“There are also murals of Mythal in here. Because she’s everywhere.”

It is Rill’s turn to sigh.

“Maybe she is. Maybe he couldn’t escape from her. Maybe he never will. What she did. What she made him do. What was done to her. But the library with all his memories of her is big and dark and gloomy. And the statues of her are stiff and aloof and cold. And the little room upstairs he shoved a cot into to sleep is…just depressing, really.”

She catches the older woman’s gaze. Holds it.

“It’s called the Lighthouse, but the beacon at the top isn’t where the light is. It’s not in some huge memorial room dedicated to Mythal. It’s here. There’s a chair with your seal on it, almost waiting for you to sit and watch him play. There’s the paintings on the walls. There’s… Look, when did this become me telling you about the Dread Wolf’s heart?”

“I have no idea,” Aili laughs in earnest this time.

“Really though, this is a good room. I like to sit and read by the windows in here sometimes. The light in here always makes be think of summer afternoons. The air has a sweetness to it, too. Something flowery. Heather, maybe. Or Lavender.”

Aili starts, her eyes going wide.

“What’s wrong?” Rill asks.

“You said it smells like lavender in here?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“It’s…the soap I use. For my hair. I always have.”

“Well, there you have it!” Rill grins in triumph. “He kept your memory here. Away from his regrets. Somewhere bright and happy. Well…as happy as Solas gets, anyway. Not too bad for a candle flame, eh?”

Aili laughs again.

“Thank you, Rook.”

#dragon age: the veilguard #spoilers #solavellan #Rook #Aili Lavellan #Rill #fic #every solavellan crumb i get makes me want to go outside and howl at the moon #i miss these idiots so much #they make me want to chew glass #(affectionate)

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sydneymykah · 5 months ago

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☆☆THE STRUGGLE OF ROUTINE ☆☆

✧─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Some people can just get out of bed and automatically do what they need to do to get the day started. And the same people seem to be the ones we see the most on our screens. "My Morning Routine", "My weekly regimen", "What I eat in a day", and "My Nightly Routine". These people are seemingly put together and perfect like their said routines. But here you are slouched on your undone bed, still in your pajamas, wearing makeup from the day before after waking up after 12 pm. You meaning me, lmao. ☆...

☆The struggle of routine is something we all face regardless of what social media persists to tell us. But I don't really want to talk about how "social media is fake" because that's not even fully true. Some people really do live like this and have very structured routines for their day to day lives, granted it's what pays their bills but that's still technically their routine. But I'm more concerned about talking about how DIFFICULT it is to keep a constant routine. Especially in this weird time we live in.

ミ★I'm a perfectionist. I hate when things don't go the way I want and I tend to want things one way or not at all. But life doesn't live by those rules. Life will throw whatever the hell it wants at you, whenever it feels like it. As an individual you have to learn to work around it all. For me it's an inconsistent work schedule, minor (or major) inconveniences, mood swings, and of course the main culprit is laziness/lack of discipline.

☆We've all done it. On a random day of the week you're up way too late reflecting on your life and what you're doing with it. You suddenly feel the hyperactive urge to fix everything about yourself. You want the perfect body before the summer. You want your hair to grow longer faster. You want to get all your life goals written down and planned out dow not the last minute. You want to post a 1 minute video everyday on TikTok at exactly 3 pm EST and post at least 4 pictures to your instagram every other day. So you open the notes app and make an extremely specific, unrealistic, and way too intense routine to follow everyday. You set reminders, add 30 new alarms to your phone, you fill your amazon cart with stuff you believe you'll defiantly use. And after you make yet another playlist of YouTube workout videos you go to bed confident your life is gonna change forever after this...

Now one of two things happen:

You completely throw away the routine the minute you wake up the next day

Or, you do it for a few days but eventually burnout and find yourself back where you were before, now with just more useless junk you have no room for...

ミ★I have personally been both. But we can all empathize with this because if maintaining a routine was easy it wouldn't be such a successful phenomenon online. Out of the millions of views under "my morning routine" posts, many, if not majority, of them are people who wish they can live the way these people do. I think we as people have developed mindsets that are negative first, positive later. Ever since the quarantine we've been used to online overconsumption. The idea that "more is better", and the scare that was the virus has sparked this fear in us that is wasted time. Hence us wanting to build new giant routines in the middle of the night just to eventually abandon it because our minds and bodies don't evolve or develop like that overnight. Most the time the routines are grueling and just makes us feel exhausted over accomplished. When we don't see immediate change a lot people, including myself, give up then and there.

☆Im not here to tell you how to keep a constant routine or how to become more disciplined because all that information is in the palm of your hands. Honestly at the end of the day it's about your mindset. Realizing what is around you and remembering the reality you live in. You want that body? You want that hair growth? You want to post? It's all possible but here's where the issue lies:

ミ★We forget to forgive ourselves and to be patient with ourselves. We fall under the pressure to perform for social media as well. In this digital age we try to make social media real life 24/7 and put real life on the back burner. Everything must be aesthetic or else! Or if you can't keep a constant routine for a week you're a failure! But the reality is no one just wakes up in their perfect aesthetic one day and has this perfect routine down pat the first time. Another thing that we keep doing is what everyone else is doing. Another example of putting the online first before real life. We've forgotten the beauty of growth, and how things develop overtime. It reminds me of how small artists have the potential to blow up overnight. They suddenly have all these eyes on them and then the GP turns on them simply because their exceptions don't match the artist's personal growth. I think we do the same to ourselves. But regardless of what other people, social media or even what you might even say to yourself the best way to find a good routine is get to know yourself, not someone else. And to not go by others expectations. It's good to hold yourself to a high regard and to make ambitious goals. But you should remind yourself that you want this to last and you don't want to burn yourself out trying to perfect your life like it's a speed run.

☆When following creators who makes content like this I advise to follow people you relate to first. Not saying you can't follow those extremely aesthetic ASMR morning/Night routine videos because hell I watch them too. But know that I watch them for simply that. I've come to the point where I can watch that stuff and not feel incompetent or that I'm failing in life but I digress. Don't pay attention to the many trends and what's hot, just look for people who you might see yourself in, or people who have qualities similar to yours. Physically, mentally, ect. Because if you're a black girl who wants to know how to do a specific 4C hairstyle you're not going to the white girl influencers for tutorials are you? For me I watch Jackie Aina. Her and I don't even have the same tastes in certain aspects, specifically clothing and home decor but she reminds me a lot of myself and some of my values. Her content inspires me but doesn't make me feel like I need to reinvent myself overnight. That's not realistic nor healthy. I think subjecting yourself to that will just give you an identity crisis. Her content helps me feel confident and you should follow people like that too.

ミ★My purpose of this post is not "continue to be a slob" (I'm a Taurus stellium and Venusian. Girl we don't do that over 'chere.) it's to remind and to encourage. A reminder that what you see online isn't what real life is 24/7. Doesn't mean it's all fake, it just means that life doesn't just look like one thing. Social media just tends to make our vision a bit tunneled. Yes, some peoples lives surround what they eat in a day, what they do when they get out of bed, and the steps they follow in their nighttime skincare routine. But our attachment and overconsumption to these types of creators constantly fails to remind us that they're still human. Hell even when the human creators tell y'all "hey I'm human" they still aren't treated as such but guess what? They are! So are you. You are still human. Finding a groove that works for you will take time. And many times you will fail. You will probably forget to do something, you won't have the time for certain tasks, or an inconvenience will pop up out of no where that knocks you off course. But if at first you don't succeed, try again. Social media picture perfect propaganda (lol) has made us forget that life happens and that we will essentially always struggle with routine. Some things stick, some things don't. Some routines last a long time, some only stay for a day. We live in an age where everyone's trying to move as fast as they can to keep with the trends, keep up appearances, and to make up for lost time. And as much as I love the thrill of the fast life, how can I expect to see my growth, what I like, what needs changing and how to fall into a good rhythm when I'm too busy trying to keep up.

✧─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Xoxo, Sydney Mykah -☆

#music #music blog #musician #my music #cover song #sydney mykah #blog post #morning routine #self care #self care routine #daily routine #wellness routine

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spaceshipellie · 2 years ago

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everything’s about you to me

ellie williams x reader

chapter two: this house is a graveyard

masterlist for other chapters *✧･ﾟ: wc: 3.7k

summary: in the midst of the apocalypse, you and ellie find each other after you’ve both lost everything. what started out as a mere safety in numbers pairing, turns into something imperishable. however, after some time you get separated, leaving you both to believe the other is dead. four years later you find a commune in wyoming.

warnings: tlou au, death, grief, burying a body, mentions of deceased loved ones, it’s sad sorry :( 18+ mdni

author’s note: i promise the next part will be less traumatic!!! it’s actually going to be very cute (i think anyway lmao) but back to this part!! thank you for all the love so far <3 lmk what you think

♪ ‘cause the world could be burning, and all i’d be thinking, is “how are you doing, baby?”

The sky was a mottled grey overhead as the three of you walked along the rural road. Nearly an hour had passed since the diner but conversations were minimal. From Ellie at least, who was reluctant to share much about herself. It was understandable, you wouldn’t be in a rush to share your life with people you had only just met. The time had allowed you to observe her though. She was wearing a blue button up with the sleeves ripped off and a grey t-shirt underneath, jeans, and converses which matched your own. Her hair was short and roughly tied up in a half up, half down.

You couldn’t help but ponder the reasons as to why she might be alone. She must have been about your age and the thought of being alone terrified you so you couldn’t imagine what she might have been through. Did she have a family? Friends? Where was she going before she met you? All of these questions swirled around your brain but you thought better of bombarding her with them. She seemed lost and forlorn and you didn’t want to do anything to upset her. Your attention was diverted when you heard coughing.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” your mom said, wiping her hand over her mouth. She then pointed up ahead to a farmhouse in the distance. “We should head towards that.”

You nodded and looked over at Ellie who looked back at you. Her lips tightened into a line as she nodded slowly. You prayed that you wouldn't find anything too terrible. Looking at the place, it almost seemed too good to be true. You mentally prepared for the possibility it was either already taken by someone or was hoarding a bunch of infected. Both of which had the opportunity to kill you.

It was another fifteen minutes before you reached the farmhouse. On approach you couldn’t hear anything, but you all cautioned yourselves as you moved towards the front door. Your mom, who insisted on going first, slowly pushed the door open with her foot, gun pointing forward. You gripped your bat and Ellie held the crowbar.

The door creaked as it opened, and eventually a jangle of cans came from above your heads. You winced at the noise, clearly set up by someone as an alarm. Nothing happened though. You relaxed your shoulders slightly as you moved further down the hall. Most of the doors were open giving you a peek at the kitchen-diner on the left side and a living room on the other.

“I’ll check upstairs,” Ellie said, shuffling past you.

You and your mom checked the downstairs rooms, each time meeting each other in the hallway and declaring nobody there. Ellie then returned downstairs.

“Anything?” You asked.

“No, all clear.”

A bang caused all of your heads to face the kitchen. You shared hesitant glances before slowly edging in that direction. It must be outside, you thought, because the kitchen was definitely empty. Your mom slowly turned the back door handle and again, pushed it open with her foot, gun looking left to right. The same noise sounded again.

“The barn,” you whispered.

The closer you got the clearer you could hear heavy breathing. It didn’t really sound like infected but why would a person be banging on a barn wall. You all slipped through the half open door, silence falling. You scanned over the room quickly.

“There doesn’t seem to be any–oh my god!” You involuntarily stepped back, accidentally bumping into Ellie. Your mom and Ellie both followed your eyes to the far corner.

“Shit.”

A man hung from a wooden beam with a rope tight around his neck. A wooden stool lay on its side on the floor beneath him. You only had a moment to take it in before the bang came again from what you now knew to be a stable door. It was followed by another rumbly deep breath. Ellie went over and slowly unbolted the door. A pinto horse with chestnut patches dashed out, neighing wildly and bucking.

“Woah, woah, easy,” Ellie soothed. Her hand came to touch its neck and the horse seemed to calm down ever so slightly. It was still very fidgety and loud but didn’t seem like it was going to run off as Ellie was now stroking its neck. You were amazed at what effect she seemed to be having on the distressed animal. You noticed something white had fallen to the ground after the door had swung open so you went over to pick it up.

“This guy left a note.”

“What does it say?”

“To whoever finds this, I’m sorry that you’re still alive in this fucked up world. If it’s any consolation, I have a pretty decent farmhouse here. Don’t get too many infected unless you go further than a few miles. There’s some food in the cupboards, ammo, first aid stuff. You should be alright here for some time if you’re smart. If you run out of stuff, there’s a town about six miles east. Though I can’t guarantee what’s left of it. And please take care of my horse, Harley. She’s a beaut and I know I’m a coward for leaving her on her own but I couldn't take it anymore. Good luck and thank you. - Jack.”

“God,” your mom breathed.

“Shit’s messed up,” Ellie said.

“Yeah,” you nodded, looking over at Jack's hanging body. “We should cut him down. Maybe bury him. The least we can do when he’s giving us his house.”

The other’s nodded. You walked over to him and picked up the stool, steadying it to stand on. You stood on the stool, your mom warning you to be careful as you reached up to cut the rope. You could see his face clearly now. His brown eyes were open and his face was sunken. His hair was matted and he was wearing muddy, navy overalls. The decomposing smell was faintly running up your nostrils. Judging by it though, he couldn’t have been dead for too long otherwise it would have been difficult to stomach.

You tried to hurry your sawing at the rope until eventually it snapped and his body hit the ground with a heavy thud. You wobbled as you dismounted the stool, searching around for a shovel. You wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible. You spotted one in the corner and grabbed it before purposely walking out the barn door and round to the side of it, throwing down the shovel. Marching back in, you saw Ellie had already started to grab his arms and your mom went to grab his legs before she dropped them, doubling over in a coughing fit.

“Let me,” you said, taking his legs.

You and Ellie carried him out to where you had dropped the shovel and placed him down. You grabbed the shovel and started digging, haphazardly tossing the soil into a large pile. The atmosphere was gloomy and solemn. No one spoke as you kept digging, pausing to wipe your forehead, smearing mud on it.

“Want me to take over?” Ellie offered.

“No,” you said, a little too abruptly, “it’s okay.”

Flashes of your dad’s lifeless body cursed your mind as you ignored the ache in your arms. The way it had fallen in a bloody heap and there was nothing you could do. No way for you to reach out and touch him or tell him goodbye. Tell him everything will actually be fine and you can find him a doctor. Tell him thank you for keeping you safe. You could never go back and change your last moments with him and it killed you.

“Honey, I think that’s enough,” your mom’s voice was mellow yet concerned as she looked down at you.

She helped you out of the deep grave you had dug and you wiped your hands on your jeans, staring down at the empty pit. You and Ellie resumed holding Jack's arms and legs as you lowered him in, letting him drop the last little bit as you couldn’t reach. You looked at his face one last time, letting out a deep breath before picking up the shovel again and piling all of the dirt back in. By the time you were done, the wind had picked up and it howled around you.

“We should go inside, I’ll go and check that the horse is tied up,” Ellie excused herself as you and your mom made your way back towards the back door of the house.

“I’m gonna go upstairs” your mom said before making her way up there.

You looked around the kitchen, wringing your hands together. The last twenty-four hours had been a shit show and you could do with some peace now that you had found this place. You dumped your backpack and jacket on the dining table and started rummaging through the cupboards, remembering how the note had said there was food. Your eyes brightened upon seeing stacks of cans filled right up to the front. What a gold mine, you thought. You heard the floorboards at the top of the stairs creak.

“Hey, look at all this, isn’t it–” you turned excitedly with a can of ravioli in your hand, but your smile faltered when you saw your mom’s face. Her eyes damp and bloodshot.

“What is it?”

“Honey, I–” her voice cracked. You put the can down.

“Mom?”

“Honey, I’m sorry, I didn’t know until I…” her voice was strangled as she gestured upstairs.

Ellie then came through the door and stopped in her tracks as she noticed the tension in the room.

“Mom, tell me. Please.”

She cleared her throat.

“I was bit.”

Her words punctured a hole right through you, a lump forming in your throat.

“No, no, no, no,” your words got more rapid and desperate. This can’t be happening.

“W-where?”

Your mom pulled her top away from her shoulder and turned to show the gruesome bite mark on the back of it. You saw how the blood had run from it, some of it fresh, some of it dry.

“I wasn’t sure if it was just an injury or what until I looked in the mirror.”

She pulled her top back up and faced you again. You were crying, silently. In fact, the silence in the entire room was deafening.

“Please don’t leave me.” Your voice was hushed and weak. Your mom walked over and cupped your cheeks, brushing a tear away with her thumb.

“My baby, I’m so sorry.”

No one said anything for a moment, you just cried as she hugged you.

“I do not want to turn into one of those things and hurt you.”

You pulled back to look at her, eyes darting between hers.

“So what…w-what do you mean?”

“I mean,” she took in a shaky breath, “I’m going to take care of it myself,” her voice cracked and a sad smile stretched her lips and she nodded as if she was convincing herself.

“No,” you whispered, pulling her in for a bone crushingly tight hug.

“It’s better this way,” she said as she rubbed your back, “I’m going to take my gun, you still have plenty others here, and I’m going to walk as far as I can make it and you are not going to look for me.”

“I can’t–it’s not fair,” your voice was lost in her hair.

“I know it’s not, but hey, look at me,” she brushed your hair away from your face.

“You’re going to be okay, you hear me? You’re going to stay here, in this house, together,” she looked at Ellie as she said the last word before looking back at you. You tried to speak but she shook her head so she could finish.

“I need to know that you’ll do that for me, and that you’ll stay safe, okay?” She hugged you again, “promise me, baby.”

“I promise.”

“I love you so much.”

“I love you too, mom.”

“You’ll be okay.”

She gave you a final squeeze and pulled away.

“I probably don’t have long left so…” she dizzily looked around for her gun.

Your body involuntarily moved towards her but you stopped yourself. You couldn’t stop this. Nothing could. She coughed again and you could see her hands twitching. She shook out all the bullets from her gun except for two. You could tell she was trying her hardest to keep it together, but she could never fool you. The fear was making her face seem hollow and cold. Her fingers trembled as they clutched the gun. She looked at you one last time before leaving out the back door and that was the last time you ever saw her.

Ellie could see how your body was about to crumble and she moved quickly to grab you as you fell down to your knees. She knelt beside you and held your shaking body. Her chin rested on your shoulder and your eyes left wet patches on hers. It felt like the air had been knocked out of you. Everything you’d ever known was gone.

Even with everything you were feeling right now you felt guilty that this girl you’d only just met had to deal with you like this. But you were grateful she was there.

She stayed there until you were ready to pull away, revealing your bloodshot eyes and cracked lips. You slumped back against the counter and Ellie sat with her arms wrapped around her bent knees. Her eyebrows were furrowed, and her eyes looked glossy as she stared at the ground. Your head ached from the crying and your face felt swollen.

“I don’t know what to do,” your voice squeaked. She took a minute to answer and her jaw clenched.

“You can’t do anything,” she mumbled, defeatedly.

It was getting darker by the minute. The haunting silence was only disrupted by a moth tapping against the ceiling. You felt overwhelmed with groggy tiredness but equally you couldn’t switch your brain off. Normally you would go to bed thinking about what to do the next day but now, you didn’t care. You couldn’t think of anything to care about.

“Maybe we should try and get some sleep,” Ellie suggested. You just nodded, slowly.

Ellie got up and left the room and you heard her lock the front door, she came back in to grab a chair and propped one under the front door and one under the back door handle just in case the locks were dodgy. She also went round closing all the curtains and checking that all of the windows were shut. Meanwhile, you sat on the kitchen floor, feeling like a ghost. She grabbed as much stuff from the table as she could including half of your things before you willed yourself up onto your feet to grab the rest. At the top of the stairs, Ellie turned to you.

“Which one do you want?”

You looked at the two bedrooms and just pointed at one of them, not really analysing it. She went in and dropped off the stuff that was yours.

“Thanks.”

“S’okay.”

She went into the other room and put her stuff down whilst you put your gun and bat near your bed. You sighed a withered sigh as you looked around the room. It had a double bed which was made up with a duvet and pillows. It had a mirrored dresser on one wall and a wardrobe on the other. The furniture looked like it hadn’t been updated for several decades before the outbreak. The wallpaper was peeling off the walls in places and framed paintings of the countryside adorned them. It was a gift that you had found this place but it was a hard one to appreciate right now. Ellie came out of her room and leant her hand on the bannister.

“Um, goodnight then I guess.”

“Yeah,” you awkwardly bit your lip, “goodnight.”

Your head still pounded with the number of tears that had been shed over the past two weeks. It felt like you were going insane. You had mostly stayed cooped up in your room, not knowing how to handle the grief. Thankfully, due to the supplies that had already been in the house you hadn’t needed to go for a supply run yet. Ellie had left you alone, not wanting to interfere. The few times you had bumped into her there was a strained tension between you. You weren’t surprised considering this was an unusual circumstance for meeting someone new, but you felt strange about it nonetheless and hoped that in time, it would ease. After all, you were supposedly stuck together for the foreseeable future.

Up until this point you had been feeling a great sorrow where your whole body ached and you could barely tell that the days were passing. Now, however, you were entering a state of numbness, a complete disconnect from what was around you. It was as if the world had been chipping away at you piece by piece all these years and this had been the last hit before you had declined into nothing.

On the first night you had looked through the bedroom draws and had found some spare clothes to sleep in. You and Ellie had also managed to wash your own clothes with some rainwater you had collected and some soap you found in the bathroom. It hadn’t necessarily made them squeaky clean but it was better than nothing. It had also been relieving to have been able to clean your skin for the first time in a while. You were sitting on the bed with your knees bunched up against your chest and your cheek resting on them, eyes trailing over some of the pictures on the wall.

You sighed, pulling yourself up from the bed and slumping over to the mirrored dresser. Your devoid expression stared back at you. Your hair had been messed around from lying against the pillow for so long so you feebly attempted to tidy it before faltering towards the stairs. The floorboards at the top creaked under your weight and your hand gripped the bannister tightly, as if you would fall if you let go. With trembling steps, you made your way down and peeked through the open living room door. Ellie was slouching on the couch looking at a piece of crumpled paper.

“What’s that?” Your voice croaked so you coughed to clear it.

Her head shot to you as she was caught off guard by your presence. “Looks like instructions on how to get to the town.”

You shuffled over and sat beside her so you could see. She handed it to you, using her now free hands to rub her tired eyes. You observed the scribbles on the paper. It featured a roughly drawn map of squares and arrows, labelled with things like ‘road on the big hill’ and ‘supermarket.’

“Will be worth a try in a few days, we’re probably still alright for now,” she suggested. You nodded, putting the map down on the coffee table.

You picked at your hands in your lap, not knowing what to say. You and Ellie hadn’t said much to each other since you got here, events having not really allowed for it. You realised that you knew next to nothing about her. About her life, where she had come from, why she had saved you. Your eyes trailed down to the bandage on her right arm again.

“What happened to your arm?”

She immediately placed her left hand over it as if she was embarrassed or covering something up. “Oh, I uh, I got stabbed.”

You drew in a short breath. “Ouch.”

“Yeah,” she looked down at her arm, “it was pretty bad.”

Your sleeves were pushed up and she noticed you had a scar on your elbow.

“How did you get that?” She asked, gesturing to it. You lifted your arm, twisting it to look.

“Oh, that was from,” a puff of air escaped your nose, “it’s stupid and not as cool sounding as yours, I fell out of a tree trying to get a closer look at a bluebird.”

“Wow,” she snickered, “hope the look was worth it.”

“It was,” you looked down into your lap, running your hand over your arm, “you don’t come across many pretty things like that.”

You didn’t notice her looking at you when you spotted something behind the slightly open door of the cabinet the TV was resting on. You got up and crouched beside it, pulling the items out.

“CDs,” you mused to yourself, shuffling through them. Foo Fighters, Jimi Hendrix, Eagles, Tracy Chapman, Nirvana, Dolly Parton, Nickelback, and a few others.

“Too bad I can’t find the CD player,” Ellie remarked.

“Hm. It must be somewhere,” you said, fixing the pile of CDs, leaving them out on the coffee table as a reminder to look for the CD player. You stayed sitting on the floor, leaning on one of your hands and glanced around. You hadn’t really been in this room much. By the window was where the cabinet and TV sat then opposite was the dusty blue couch with a couple of limp throw cushions on. The walls were off white and much like upstairs, were covered in framed paintings. The windowsill was thick with dust and the moth-eaten curtains floated with the light breeze that was coming in from the open window.

“If you don’t mind me asking, where were you going before you came with us?”

Ellie stretched her hands and placed them on her knees, shuffling in her seat.

“Uh, nowhere really.”

“You didn’t have to be so nice to me that night, so thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me.”

She looked down at the ground with squinted eyes, her head shaking a little.

“Well, I want to,” you murmured softly, “you’d barely just met me and not a lot of people would have been that way.”

You looked up at her but she wasn’t looking at you, almost as if it would hurt her to do so.

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#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fic #spaceshipellie fics #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x y/n #ellie x reader #ellie williams #everything’s about you to me #ellie tlou #ellie williams fics #tlou fic #tlou 2 ellie #ellie x you #ellie williams angst #ellie williams fluff

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thottyimagines · 1 year ago

Note

Still thinking about Naruto in the year of our lord 2024 so I was wondering what your take would be on a Sannin swap, meaning team seven has different mentally unstable mentors from canon so they can be traumatized/educated in new and exciting ways <3

I've written a few about the potential dynamics between Naruto/Orochimaru, Sasuke/Tsunade, and Sakura/Jiraiya, but let me tell you about the different iteration that really and truly is my favorite:

Sakura/Orochimaru

Mad scientist, came-from-nothing ninja with insane chakra control reporting for duty.

Orochimaru takes one look at this pink-haired freak with a puddle of chakra who thinks she can stand side-by-side with the kyuubi and the last of one of the great dojutsu and says, would you like to live deliciously?

And Sakura says, of course I would.

It is not enough for her to succeed, others must fail. And Orochimaru loves and appreciates this about her.

Sakura runs away from Konoha with the promise of having a mentor who will teach her, who will focus on her, who will believe that she's more than her pitiful background and more than her overwhelming teammates.

She is, at first, foisted onto Kabuto. She frightens Kabuto.

When she gets good enough to replace Kabuto, which happens in a very alarming two years (max), Kabuto suddenly gets to live with the ever-present threat of becoming an experiment.

Orochimaru adores her and encourages her to steal any and all clan techniques and kekkei genkai that she can. Why should she be barred from knowledge if she yearns for it?

Sakura is the most learned woman in the elemental nations. She has figured out Orochimaru's Body Problem. She's replicated the Strength of a Hundred seal Tsunade uses. They are a plague unto Konohagakure.

She's gene splicing like nobody's business.

The only people who care that Sakura up and left are Naruto, Kakashi, a bit of Sasuke, and Ino. Except for...well, no one has that manic desire to bring her back, the way Naruto did when Sasuke went missing nin. They kind of view her as a failed experiment, though Ino misses her and thinks of her a lot.

Sasuke/Jiraiya

Such a miserable duo, but they kind of like it.

Jiraiya is strong enough to keep Sasuke safe, and he keeps the kid out of Konoha, which he really needed.

Sasuke takes to everything quickly and antagonistically. Jiraiya hates having such a talented student - he is, perhaps, even more talented than Minato - who is so desperately antisocial.

You know that one post that's like, someone who's objectively attractive but has negative rizz? That's Sasuke, and Jiraiya despairs on the regular, because this student of his should, in theory, take over this position as horny spy master with the way he effortlessly draws in beautiful women who can act as informants. Sadly, due to his personality, no one would ever believe that Sasuke is just charming these (knowledgable) women into bed with him.

Sasuke takes to sealing, and Jiraiya is petrified that he's going to come up with something to, like, replenish his clan at an alarming rate.

Sasuke gets rid of his brother with some sort of homemade seal that traps him in a Matryoshka doll or something. He didn't technically commit fratricide, but Itachi is suffering in that thing.

He comes back to the village looking way better than he did when he left. Jiraiya takes that as his main point of pride.

Naruto/Tsunade

Naruto, should he learn chakra control, is the ideal healer in that he has more chakra than should fit in a human body, even an Uzumaki.

It's the chakra control that is Tsunade's true challenge in teaching. And, good god, is it a challenge. Sasuke is already murdering his brother by the time Naruto can reliably aid in a minor surgery.

But once he finally learns it, Naruto is improving in leaps and bounds, as is his way.

He completes a Strength of a Hundred seal six months after he finally learns chakra control. Sakura has had hers for two years, and he does not know or care.

Naruto is saving people at unprecedented rates. Honestly, Tsunade struggles to justify making him a combat medic, because he's doing so much good in the hospital just staying at the village.

Naruto is Naruto, though, so Tsunade teaches him to brawl using her style.

He winds up on the most dangerous missions, due to the fact that he has a natural healing ability with his Kyuubi, and is now the most talented healer Konoha has (who insists on getting out there).

Honestly, I could see him winding up in ANBU, given those skills and traits.

His true hardship, after mastering chakra control, is realizing that his talk-no-jutsu isn't going to work all the time and that he can't derail missions to attempt it.

Naruto is a better hokage for it, in the end.

#naruto #Naruto imagines #Naruto headcanons #sannin swap #sakura #orochimaru #sasuke #jiraiya #Naruto uzumaki #tsunade #sage swap #sannin

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queenofapeacefuldawn · 8 months ago

Text

An Analysis of SPY × Family Chapter 99

Manga spoilers, and a very long post ahead!

I'd like to preface this with saying that all of this is my own analysis, and I'm not very smart at these things, so take this with a grain of salt!

This chapter was extremely heavy: with Henry realising his feelings for Martha, and how it echoed the main theme of this story: how war destroys relationships and how innocent civilians are forced to enlist out of fear for their families' safety.

The chapter starts off, continuing off the cliffhanger of the last chapter— it turns out to be a false alarm, but Martha leaves her feelings for Henry unsaid.

She begins writing letters to Henry, and they keep a regular correspondence to substitute for their tea parties--

The war continues to grow dire, and Martha's squad hasn't been given any combat training, yet, they're forced to go to the front lines, under the pretext of "serving your country" and "keeping your family safe".

Henry is obviously shocked and scared for Martha when he finds out she's on the front lines, but we never get to hear his thoughts with the introduction of this fucking bitch-

🤓☝️ lookin ass--

In this chapter, we get to see Donovan's own ideals, which are shown through his argument in the debate. Interestingly, Donovan is almost the same age as Demetrius is in the present-day. (At least, that's what I'm assuming-- Henry mentions being in charge of the middle schoolers, and Demetrius is a middle-schooler.)

He claims,

I have a couple of thoughts about this. First,

"I know that solving differences with dialogue and weapons is ideal". The phrasing of this is interesting, because it kind of sounds like he doesn't believe in that-- he just knows that solving differences with diplomacy instead of war is 'ideal', but does he really believe in that? I don't think he does-- and, his own definition of 'peace' is definitely... ambiguous. What does he think 'peace' is? Subjugating other countries with his own power?

He already has a strange concept of humanity and other humans' own ideals-- he believes that, at our core natures, human beings are liars. That the only thing we're capable of is war and destruction.

This is also very similar to his own ideals that we see in modern-day. He doesn't care about either of his sons, as he says, they are essentially strangers to him. And, you might have raised them (though with Donovan, "raised" is a stretch), you might be their own father, according to him, he will never truly know his sons. Which is why he doesn't even attempt to understand them. His own ignorance for human nature and for others around him is really what makes him a failure of a father-- we are never truly born "knowing" others. Yet, every day, we make an attempt to learn the people we care about-- and isn't that a little of what love is? Take the Forgers-- they are three strangers to each other, each concealing their own natures from the others. They're all liars, and yet, they're making an effort to heal; they're learning to love and they're learning to learn about the people around them, the people they care about.

This is his flawed ideology. In his world, humans are strangers-- humans are nothing to each other, they're always hiding their true intentions from each other. Humans can't be trusted-- humans don't trust each other, which is why war and destruction and pain is all humanity is capable of.

But it's really not. SxF's message is of how three strangers--- three orphans of a war they were forced to partake in--- come together and form a home. Yes, they are liars, yes, they're hiding their true intentions, but they're making a home for themselves, a home where one can be safe, where a young girl, who's experienced horrors no child should, can feel safe and in her mother's arms.

Which is why I think Donovan's ideology is so flawed--- and how beats of it echo in the modern-day SxF story, especially when Twilight meets him.

Yes, by mere dialogue, reaching a mutual understanding is idealistic, but the most important thing is to not stop seeking to understand each other.

Humans are flawed, humans are selfish, humans are kind--- there's a debate on whether, intrinsically, humans are good or bad. We're all given different cards to play with, but really, it's up to us to decide on our faith in humanity.

It seems like Donovan has a wholly negative view on humans--- we can never know each other's true intentions, and it's with this doubt that humans wage wars--- it's with this doubt that humans lie and kill and cause destruction.

It's because of this doubt that Desmond is planning a war himself.

Martha writes Henry a letter, and she talks about a dream where all the students are holding hands, circling Henry. She can't join them because her hands are filthy--- maybe it's guilt? Maybe she's feeling guilty, maybe she feels like she can't join the others because her hands are stained with blood.

She's scared. She's regretting joining the front lines. Her only solace is the letters from him. The only way he knows she's alive is the letters from her.

I feel like another story would have taken a turn, making Henry regret his own feelings for Martha because the war had torn them apart. Instead, Henry realises his own feelings and his own wants too late-- and it becomes the last letter he gets from her.

It feels like an extra gut punch, as in the beginning Martha was embarrassed to call him "beloved", but now, he's calling her beloved, and he misses her so much. He cares for her so much, and doesn't know how she is.

All he can think is---

His hands are stained with ink. The nib of his pen is almost breaking. Ink is bleeding onto the page. In Martha's dream, her hands are stained with blood due to her desire to protect Henry and her country. In Henry's reality, his hands are stained with ink due to his desire for Martha to come back, be with him again. The Soldier and the Scholar, each trapped in their own Hell.

Henry finds out that Martha's squad has been killed. Their lives were a "sacrifice" for their country. This is blatant propaganda, and, he feels they're sullying her memory by mythologizing her; by using her life, using her death as a way to snare more students into a violent and hopeless and painful battle.

He speaks out. He's punished.

He's been brutalised so much, that he needs to wear a monocle.

We learn more about Donovan's and Henry's own ideals. Donovan gives up on people who've disappointed him-- people who he deems as fools. Henry doesn't believe in that. He believes that everybody deserves to not be given up on--- every body deserves a person in their own corner.

Towards the end of the chapter, Henry's forced into a marriage by his father, believing it's "for the best", because the soldier he was waiting for never came back to him.

We cut to "Somewhere near the East-West border", to a home with a fireplace. Martha is just opening her eyes, and is severely injured.

This definitely isn't a safehouse or military barracks or a military hospital.

A home with a family, or at least a person, with a fireplace and a chopping block for firewood.

This place is also near the sea,

which makes me think it's somewhere near the south. (If I'm remembering the map correctly).

Edit: The map is faithful to irl Germany, which means the sea is to the north, not the south. Sorry for the discrepancy before!

I'm thinking someone rescued Martha while she was injured, and brought her to their place to rest and recuperate--- which is why she's presumed dead, and why Henry wasn't ever given closure.

The next chapter is no doubt going to be explosive--- the 100th chapter. I feel like this arc will segue into something bigger, something more heart-wrenching and painful (I don't know how that's possible, but I trust Endo-sensei.)

---

Thank you for making this far and reading this whole thing! I hope you enjoyed, and I hope I wasn't annoying with my hatred for Donovan lol.

Also, on a more light-hearted note, I explained the plot of SxF to my dad, and he's intrigued and wants to read the manga. I'm planning on showing him the first ep of the anime, to see if he likes it. I feel like he will.

#spy x family #sxf #spy x family manga #sxf manga #spy x family manga spoilers #sxf manga spoilers #spy x family chapter 99 #sxf chapter 99 #spy x family chapter 99 spoilers #sxf chapter 99 spoilers #henry henderson #martha marriott #donovan desmond #damian desmond #demetrius desmond #loid forger #agent twilight

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deathmetalunicorn1 · 2 years ago

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Hello it's me again! I just wanna say I am in love with your ror x child reader story because there so cuteeee

Anyway can I request a ror gods (Zeus, Poseidon, hades, Hermes, ares, Aphrodite, Heracles and Beelzebub) x child female reader

Basically the reader has a train station (she's basically the owner) that leads to Valhalla or helhaim and also the reader is the goddess of stars and travel

And she's often called the 'guiding light' because she guides people to where they go either alive or dead

But the other gods don't know what the reader looks like due to the reader not really leaving the station

But one day the gods needed the reader's help because there was a problem at Valhalla

How would they react that a child solved their problem?

The reader is very cheerful and happy-go-lucky but can also be serious and deadly

(Also can you maybe base the reader's clothes like the pic)

-Guiding Light Train Station is where everyone first arrives at following their death. It’s brightly lit, warm feeling, and runs very smoothly and quickly, with one of several trains running every ten minutes, keeping the station as empty as possible.

-The Goddess of Stars, who was also known as the goddess of travel, or the guiding light, is the station master, but looking at her, many would not believe her words to be true.

-You looked like a child, wearing a train station uniform that was way too big for you, adorable, bright and bubbly, you didn’t look like someone who would handle an operation like this for the newly dead.

-But it was true, Station Master Y/N wasn’t as well known as other gods, but while passengers were at her station, she did what she could to help them.

-Every person would go to the ticket counter, where a super advanced algorithm system would print the tickets of where someone was going to go, Valhalla, Helheim, or to a special place where souls were immediately reincarnated into new bodies. Occasionally you would have people who have tickets to Tartarus, in the pits of Helheim, but that was only for people who committed terrible things in their lives, their souls doomed forever be locked away.

-You helped the newest passengers board the correct train and disciplined the ones who tried to board other trains, like those who aren’t happy to go to Helheim try to board the Valhalla train.

-You were tiny but you sure were mighty, your strength didn’t match your petite frame as you dragged the offenders by their ears to their correct train.

-Usually, when most arrived at their destination, they forgot about you, now faced with their new destinations, and not many gods knew what you looked like, other than you were female, because you never left your station as there were always people arriving.

-You were patrolling around your station, skipping while humming before an alarm sounded and you turned instantly, looking up before running through the station, your arms out to the side before leaping up and landing in the arms of a Valhalla guard who oversaw the station with you.

-He had seen you leaping over the crowd and quickly lifted his arms to catch you before setting you down in front of the Valhalla train, which was still stationed, as it should have left several minutes ago.

-The guard saluted you and spoke, “Reports show from the travel map that the other train is still at the station in Valhalla, there is a disturbance with the track. Lord Zeus himself has sent a distress signal here for assistance.”

-You nodded, not looking at all worried, as this happened every now and then before turning, “Keep the other trains running on schedule.” He saluted you before picking you up so you were sitting on his shoulders so you could see the crowd waiting to go to Valhalla, which is the second busiest train, “Attention all passengers bound for Valhalla! We are experience technical difficulties at the Valhalla Station. Please be patient and you will be on your way soon!”

-Most weren’t bothered by having to wait, as the other trains to Helheim and Tartarus were now working double time to keep the station as low as possible.

-Your assistant set you down and you leapt down onto the track and straightened your hat, “I’ll be back!” and like a bolt of glittering lightning, you were gone, racing down the track to the Valhalla station.

-Several gods were at the Valhalla Station, as they had been called to a disturbance, a fight had broken out and had actually knocked the train off the tracks.

-Hercules and Ares had tried to put it back on the tracks, but without much luck, as it was on a magic track that they couldn’t figure out, they even called Beelzebub and Odin for their help but only Beelzebub was available, as Odin was dealing with those who had caused the fight.

-A crack of lightning interrupted any conversations as you appeared, leaping up from the track before landing in front of the other gods, “Have no fear- Station Master Y/N is here!”

-They all blinked in unison, they had no idea that you were only a child as you turned, looking at the train off the tracks, squatting on the platform next to it, “What happened?”

-Hermes spoke, being the first to shake off his shock, “A fight broke out, one that was big enough that we gods had to come down and handle it, but during the fight the train got knocked off the tracks.”

-You nodded softly before turning around, “I can fix it!” your hands were on your hips and a big grin was on your lips as you went to the front of the train, where it was against the bumpers.

-Hercules and Ares, worried for your safety, approached, not wanting you to fall, Ares speaking, “Y/N, are you sure you can fix it, Hercules and I tried but we didn’t have much luck?”

-You nodded softly while reaching out to touch the train and it instantly vanished before reappearing back on the tracks, good as new, like nothing ever happened!

-Jaws dropped all around and Aphrodite spoke, “Oh my- how did you do that?” Hercules picked you up from the bumper that you were standing on and sat you back down, “These trains are created from my magic, being the Goddess of Travel. All trains, tracks, and stations are under my control.”

-Zeus chuckled warmly, reaching down to ruffle your hair gently as your hat was in your hands now, “My-my~ it’s nice to see someone so young working so hard.”

-Your cheeks puffed up in annoyance, hands coming to your hips, “I’m not that young! I’m just small because I’m travel sized!” Ares thought you were adorable, smiling fondly down at you before Beelzebub approached, asking about your magic and how it worked.

-You spoke with a smile on your lips, “It’s domain control to put it simply, everything to do with these stations are part of my domain, and I can control them at will, I can make the trains bigger or smaller, and the same with the stations. If I will it, it will happen.”

-Hades then spoke, reaching down to pat the top of your head gently, “So you’re the one who sends all of those new souls to Helheim and the various parts of the underworld.”

-You shrugged like it was no big deal, “Well there’s humans dying all the time and they need some place to go. I keep my stations working smoothly so no accidents happen and so my station is kept clear of troublemakers, like someone coming here to Valhalla who was supposed to go to Helheim or Tartarus.”

-This made sense and you beamed brightly up at them, hurting all of their hearts, “Come by my station if you want to take a scenic train ride. I have some available for gods or those who are here in Valhalla to go sight-seeing!”

-They all thanked you, some still in shock that you were able to fix the problem so easily, and you were a child on top of it before you hopped onto the train and crawled into a seat, sitting on your knees, waving at them and Hercules, Ares, Hermes, Zeus, and Aphrodite waved at you.

-They wanted to see you again, they had no idea that there was a child goddess who was working so hard.

-Zeus turned around, looking a bit confused, “Where’s Poseidon?” they all looked around as well, finding him missing.

-You sat back on your seat and flinched as you had gotten spooked by Poseidon sitting next to you, “What kind of scenic train routes are there? I need a break from my office.”

-You beamed, kicking your legs like a child, listing off the different ones available, all of them on Earth which he originally wasn’t keen on until you pulled out your phone and showed him pictures of the different areas.

-Many were stunned to meet Poseidon as the train arrived safely back at your station and your assistant was quickly loading up the next one, getting the station emptied out again as you showed Poseidon around, showing the different platforms as you led him upstairs to where a beautiful ruby red train was waiting with large windows on both sides, allowing panoramic views of the scenery, as well as private cars.

-Poseidon wanted to go to the Swiss Alps, wanting something different than the ocean and you hooked him up by giving him a beautiful private lounge complete with a fancy three-course meal and wines of his choosing.

-He was impressed, actually thanking you before taking a seat and you tipped your hat to him, “I will see you when you arrive back, Lord Poseidon. Enjoy your excursion!”

-He heard your voice once outside, “All aboard!!” and within moments the train took off and Poseidon leaned back, a deep sigh leaving him as he relaxed, ignoring his text messages from Zeus who said he was unfair for getting to your station first.

#record of ragnarok #ror x reader #ror poseidon #ror hades #ror heracles #ror ares #ror aphrodite #ror beelzebub #ror hermes

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nightlyrequiem · 28 days ago

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miss requiem please please with a cherry on top make detective reader part 2?!?!???!?

Of course of course! For some reason this was so hard for me to write??? I don't know if I like how it turned out. Alikeness 1 and 2 will probably be getting a rewrite in the future...

First Part

Tags/Warnings: WLW, Gun Violence, Murder, Mild Violence

Alikeness II

"You and I are alike."

Valeria's words leave you uneasy and disturbed. You should turn her in. You know her identity. But for some reason you just can't bring yourself to make it common knowledge. You tell yourself it's because she wouldn't face proper punishment through the legal system. Money talks.

Yes. That is why you can't tell anyone. You're immune to corruption. An archangel sent to cleanse this Earth of evil. The blood of the tainted only purifies you. Your only interaction with Valeria shook you. You stayed away. Only for the time being. Focusing your efforts on others that need exterminating. Bad people you can't prove are bad in the eyes of the law, but you know. You always know. It's a sixth sense.

You stare down at the plastic wrapped body of a corrupt politician. Valeria's words ringing in your ears as you fill his grave with dirt. He was taking bribes from the cartel. He was actively trying to take away the rights of other people because of his greed and hatred. The plastic around his mouth slowly rises and falls. You had to do this.

You've been given a new case at work. They're looking for the person responsible for the murders of previous cases. They're looking for you. You're forced to stay silent while your collogues unknowingly call you all kinds of names. You're disheartened to hear that the general public thinks of you as a monster. You make them afraid.

You stay in late, acting as though you're looking into the murders of the previous cases when really, you're plotting your next move on Valeria. It's not safe at home anymore. You're too paranoid about her bugging your house. Even your office is starting to feel unsafe. During the day you eye your coworkers with distrust. One of them could very likely be working with Valeria.

You keep your head pressed to the wall. Eyes shut tightly so you can think.

'You and I are alike.'

Begrudgingly, you accept that the statement is true to an extent. Two sides of the same coin but where you are capable of doing bad things for good, she does bad things for selfish gain. You slowly move away from the wall. You can use that to your advantage. Think like Valeria to kill Valeria.

You're shoved to the ground with the barrel of a gun pressed to the back of your head. Valeria looks down at you with a blank expression.

"You were right." You say, looking up at her. The low lighting is giving you a headache.

"About?" Valeria raises a brow.

"Me. Us." You reply. "I'm too good for what I do and I am not appreciated. Why should I expend my energy fighting for people who think I'm a monster?"

Valeria stares you contemplatively. A glint in her eyes.

"Yes, why should you?" She hums. Valeria slowly walks towards you and crouches down to eye level.

"You told me to find you when I was ready to accept that." You say. Disturbed at the small part of you that's tempted to believe it.

You didn't get to work with her at first. Valeria is a distrustful person and for two weeks she kept you locked in a cage. Only after she began to let her guard down did she let you out. You started work guarding shipments. Feeling disgusted at how you were helping her. But you took your job seriously, even if you didn't agree with the tasks you were given, you still took it seriously. Telling yourself it's a necessary evil.

You pace the dock. Watching the dock workers sign off on the cargo and taking the bribe to keep quiet about it. A shot rings out and the worker falls to his knees. You and your companions dive for cover. Alarmed by the sudden and unexpected bullets flying through the air. Your only thought is to protect the cargo. Keep the cargo safe. Leaping up you make a run for the ship. Something wizzes past your face and slices your cheek. Warm blood trickles from the cut. Bullets rain behind you as you climb aboard.

You swiftly run to the cargo hold. Pulling out your gun you sit silently. Waiting. Careful footsteps sound in the hall. Heavy combat boots against the floor. Your grip on your gun tightens. A man decked out in riot gear enters, rifle slowly panning over the room. You crouch low, hiding behind a large barrel.

You move out of sight. Keeping to the shadows. The man nudges the lid of another barrel, shining his light inside. Is he seeing alcohol or bags of cocaine? You sneak up behind you and cock your gun. The noise alerts the man, and he promptly swivels to face you, rifle pointed at your chest. He stiffens and says your name. You recognize his voice. You worked with him before. Familiarity means nothing to you. He lowers his weapon, but you keep yours pointed at him.

"Are you okay?" He asks. "You've been missing for weeks, we thought the cartel got you."

"It did." You say. Feeling a little regretful.

"... I'm going to get you out of here, okay?" He says softly, like he's trying to soothe a child.

You back up.

"One of us will be getting out of here, yes, but it won't be you." You reply.

"What are you talking about?" He says, his voice hardening. "Whatever they have over you, if you're scared, it doesn't matter, we can get you into a witness protection program."

You frown. "I can't let you leave because you will jeopardize the cartel and this shipment." You say. Something unpleasant crawls down your spine at the realization that you mean those words.

The man tightens his grip on his gun.

"You're here... willingly?" He asks hesitantly, sounding disappointed.

You remain stony faced. "I am." You nod.

He raises his gun, aiming for your chest. "Then I'm going to have to ask you to put your gun down and put your hands behind your head."

You slowly lower your gun and raise your hands, staring straight as him as you do so.

He circles around you and comes up from behind. You can hear his laboured breathing behind his mask. His gloved hand brushes your wrist and you swivel, grabbing his gun. He pulls the trigger, the shot sounding too loud in the cramped cargo hold. You hiss and wrench it away, stumbling. The force pushes him down and before he can stand and make himself an even bigger threat you fire into his chest blindly. Emptying the clip.

You realize that you're shaking. Your shoulders drop as you stare at what you've done. Shame and rationalization warring in your head. Hurried footsteps head towards the cargo hold and you hope it's not more of them. They stop and you feel the presence of people. You don't bother turning because whatever will happen, will happen.

"You protected the shipment." Valeria says. Sounding a little surprised. You were supposed to kill her. That was the whole point of seeking her out to join her cartel. Instead, you shot one of your own.

"That's what I'm supposed to do." You murmur. He isn't moving anymore. Are his eyes open or closed behind the helmet?

Valeria mutters something to the people beside her and they leave. She walks forward and puts her hands on your shoulders. Her face next to yours.

"I'm proud of you." She says. "Not everyone is capable of doing the right thing."

Her words comfort you somewhat. You wish it were her lying there instead. "hm."

"Your foot is bleeding." she tells you, grabbing you by the arm to lead you out of that room. "I'll patch that up for you."

#valeria garza x fem!reader #modern warefare ii #valeria garza cod #valeria garza x reader #cod mwii #valeria garza #cod mw2 #cod x reader #valeria garza x you #cod

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