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comfortscripts · 11 months ago

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Santa's Statistics Helper ¬ Michael Gavey

Plot - In the midst of the worst Christmas of your life, you meet an arrogant genius who takes pity on your inability to do statistics. Pairing - Michael Gavey x PsychologyStudent!Reader Notes/Warnings - As a psychology student who hates statistics, this was just based off how my boyfriend explains it to me. Michael is a bit of a sweetheart in this with streaks of arrogance. Not proofread so I apologise in advance if it is terrible Word Count - 1,943

Sunday the 10th of December

“As it helps identify the patterns, the correlation matrix is useful in psychological testing, economics, risk management, and statistics. Calculated as (x(i)-mean(x))*(y(i)-mean(y)) / ((x(i)-mean(x))2 * (y(i)-mean(y))2. This mode- Oh for fuck’s sakes!”

Slamming the monotone textbook of your nightmares closed and shoving it to the opposite side of the oaken table, you breathe a sigh of frustration. Four hours you’ve been trying, 240 minutes of your life spent in a lonely library struggling to grasp the difference between a correlation matrix and covariance matrix. If someone told you when you picked psychology that you’d be sacrificing your Christmas to study for some pathetic quantitative methodologies’ module, you would have switched your career pathway to dogwalker.

Unfortunately, you aren’t a bloody psychic so here you sit with red rimmed eyes, frizzing hair from repeatedly tugging at it, and longing for being home watching The Polar Express. A string of swears partnered with the shuffling of papers acted as your soundtrack for the next few minutes as you attempted to build back up your confidence.

“You made it this far; you can do this! Once this module is done, you can get a pint and burn your calculator.”

Just as you leant to grab the textbook, a voice broke through your bubble of academic frustration.

“Don’t think you’d get very far burning a calculator after a few pints, I’ve seen how you handle your alcohol.”

Jumping backwards in your chair, eyes frantically assessing the source of the teasing words. There he stood, Michael Gavey. You had only met him in once during Freshers, but after minimal contact with him, you understood that he looked down on your choice of degree. Mutterings of how it is a pointless degree for vapid girls who would become housewives or receptionists within years of graduation. Mousy hair that had no clear style, smudged glasses, and an oversized maroon jumper that made him appear wider than usual.

Perhaps it was your lack of sleep, but Michael Gavey seemed to be far better looking than before.

“What the fuck Gavey?! Could have given me a heart attack, and I know you are smart but you aren’t a bloody doctor.” Clutching your chest to emphasise the theatrics of your startled self, a small huff left your person with the final word.

With a soft chuckle, the lanky boy slid into the chair opposite before resting his judgmental eyes on your figure. Assessing your appearance as if you were one of his equations. Those denim blues flickering between you and the scattered papers filled with incorrect or half-complete statistical equations.

Moments passed in silence, and with each second you grew more agitated with the piercing gaze from the bespectacled boy. “What are you even doing here Gavey? Is Christmas too simple and mainstream for you to celebrate?”

“I would ask you the same question, but from what I recall you seem to embrace the simple. Or does that only apply to your choice in degree?”

That fleeting thought of attraction was zapped from the air as his words bit at your confidence. Usually, a quick-witted response would fall from your lips, but after days of struggling, it was difficult to view yourself as anything but a student heading towards failure.

It was clear to tell the atmosphere had shifted, a tense weight fell between the pair of you. Watching as his calculated smirk fell, understanding that perhaps his words might not have been appreciated in this moment.

“What do you want Michael? I’m too busy to be belittled today.”

“Well, I was planning on asking you to be quiet. I’ve had to listen to your ridiculous murmurings for the past 2 hours. Not to mention the constant echoing of you abusing those poor books.” Straightening himself in the padded wooden seat, attempting to appear unphased by how defeated your voice sounded.

Even though Michael would never admit to it, he always harboured a modest crush on you. He remembers the way you walked around the different Fresher events with such confidence, despite not knowing anyone prior to starting University. Eyes following your figure as you made the rounds before making your way to his table of one. That was when he messed up. Something about your presence made any semblance of a filter disappear, and the insults flew from his lips before he could bite the words down. All he could do was stare as that kind spark in your eyes faltered and you muttered a discouraged goodbye before walking away from his lonely table.

Since that day, he kept an eye out for you. Never once daring to speak again, but always glancing at your corner table during dinnertime just to catch a glimpse of that jubilant smile. Yes, he thought any subject outside of mathematics-based degrees were pointless to society. Although for some reason, he never wanted you to feel anything less for your choice of pathway. Everyone else on your course might be a half-wit, but not you. Never you.

Suddenly feeling sheepish, you make a move to pack away. “Oh, I apologise. Truthfully, I thought I was the only one who stayed back for Christmas break.”

Hand reaching across to grab the textbook currently resting before the boy, you were met halfway by a larger colder hand. “Don’t leave on my account, especially before I can explain to you the different applications of correlation matrixes.”

Rearranging the position of his chair to minimise the space between the both of you, as he fumbled through your plethora of mock questions and attempted answers. All whilst your mouth parted with puzzlement, leaving you to watch his movement with questioning eyes.

“Why in the world would you help me?”

“Figures it could balance out my karma for slagging your subject. Plus, I can’t sit here knowing you are desecrating maths and not intervene.”

And with the rippling sounds of the pages followed by the subtle knock of the textbook cover, the pair of you began an unlikely partnership.

Monday the 18th of December

The next seven days were spent in that secluded corner of the century-old building with Michael explaining statistical concepts in his velvety tones. At the start, he found it difficult to not mark his superiority or mock your questions that seemed elementary to him. Eventually, he grew to understand that you really did care about understanding the methods entirely, and that your questions spawned from craving knowledge rather than sheer stupidity. Awkward explanations turned into two-way conversations during study breaks, and silly jokes. If anyone were to enter the library, they would hear the duo of laughs ricochet off the walls of books. Perhaps they would think that two friends were sharing inside jokes, but if anyone saw the pair of you, they would see two fools infatuated with one another.

It was true, within the past week Michael’s crush only grew and you started to realise that Michael might be the unexpected highlight of university. Since Freshers, you felt drawn to him, and maybe at the start it was purely a physical attraction that was shut down by his mean-spirited comments. But this version of Michael, where he feels comfortable and lets down his arrogant guard, this is the boy that you wish you’d known from the beginning. Heart fluttering when he praises you, chest aching from giggles at his nerdy jokes, and fingertips lingering slightly too long on his veiny hand.

As the snow falls outside, the pair of you sat with only the sound of your nervous drumming and the scratch of Michael’s pen across your mock examination. Studying his side profile, getting lost in the way his lips purse with satisfaction when he ticks off a correct answer, if you didn’t know better, you’d say he was proud of you. Several moments trickled by in silence, waiting in anticipation to see whether the hours spent together had actually taught you anything. There was the unspoken discomfort of what happens next. If you had passed with flying colours, does that mean you and him go back to strangers? Could you pretend to be less than friends again with all these newfound feelings? Truthfully, part of you wished you failed so he would have to keep tutoring you.

“And you did it. Congratulations, you have officially conquered statistics.” Sliding across the paper marked 86% with a little smile into your expectant hands. Those stormy blues meeting yours to watch the excitement unfold.

“I did it? Oh my god, I did it!”

Waving the paper in the air before bringing it to your chest, eyes sparkling with happiness as the weight of failure floats off your shoulders. Michael could only match your exuberant smile, leaning his chiselled chin on the palm of his hand to watch the subject of his dreams glitter in front of him. He knew the doubts that clouded your judgement were bullshit. In his eyes you were almost as smart as him, only in a different way. Watching your seated celebrations as he commits the image to memory, with fear of today being the last day of closeness between you two. Michael half expected you to drop him after realising you understood the concepts. That you would finally recognise you are worth more than someone like him. Someone of a higher class, someone more muscular, someone who isn’t a social pariah.

Those thoughts were halted by the feel of your jumper-clad arms being thrown around his neck, drawing him close. Snapping out of his daydream just as you bridged the gap between your lush lips and his own. Michael felt you melt into him, arms softening in their hold but your lips still continuing the connection with passion. This kiss was all consuming, built up with each second of vulnerability shown throughout the moments together. He noted that you tasted like spearmint gum, and it perfectly complimented the constant chocolate that lurked on his tastebuds.

Somehow it felt like the pair of you were joined for eternity, feeling as if the cool of his lens would be ingrained on your skin. Reluctantly the two young students separated, faces flushed and chests heaving in a desperate attempt to fill your lungs. The realisation of your bold move flashed in your brain, panic arising in your stomach at all the possible scenarios that could happen next, but those fears settled as you saw the soft look hidden behind those glasses.

“Thank you, Michael. I couldn’t have done any of this without you.”

“Well, it does help that I’m a mathematical genius. But truthfully, I’ve enjoyed teaching you and would happily continue our study sessions.” Despite his clear words, Michael was still recovering from the shockwaves in his body from the taste of you on his lips. Mentally he was cringing at his entirely unromantic words, but all you did was smile.

“As much as I would like that, I’d prefer if our relationship went beyond studying? Perhaps we could go for a celebratory pint or get dinner together.” Awkwardly twiddling the hem of his sweater between your fingertips as you avoided his eyeline. “You know, like a date? Only if you would be happy with that, of course.”

“I’ve come to realise that if I was a correlation matrix, and you’d be the variable that’s highly correlated with my happiness. So yes, I’d love to take YOU on a date”

Laughter erupted in your belly at his cheesy line, and he fought the urge to pull in for another kiss. Instead, he chose to intertwine your warm hands with his. “A genius, a gentleman, a teacher, and now a comedian? You, Michael Gavey, are an adventure I can’t wait to explore.”

#michael gavey #michael gavey x reader #michael gavey imagine #ewan mitchell x reader #saltburn #ewan mitchell #michael gavey x you

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bharv · 13 days ago

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On defined vs customisable protagonists

Taking a break from DATV for some musings on this. This isn't really an essay, just a ramble, and I'm trying to steer clear of spoilers and heavy critical stuff.

I'll discuss the Dragon Age franchise, the Mass Effect franchise, and Baldur's Gate 3, Pillars of Eternity and Cyberpunk 2077.

Basically, I want to talk a little about ways in which a game's set up can help and hinder us in understanding our protagonist, the pros and cons of voiced protags, and what works in my eyes and what doesn't. I hope this also helps people to think about how they draw characters as well!

Firstly I want to say that people will have different reasons to prefer a more defined protagonist or a more open one. Ultimately it comes down to expectations from roleplay in my eyes. There's not a right or wrong answer in which is "better" but I think there are things that help us to engage with both types.

Establishing what we know (and being consistent with it)

Essential to both types in my eyes is establishing what is known. I'm going to use Commander Shepard as my first example here. We are told instantly that Shepard is an experienced officer, has an expertise in one area, and is being considered for a significant promotion. This allows us to infer that they get the job done, and that they have to have a degree of competency (whether or not they are by the book or more loose with the rules) and that they take their job seriously. The game then gives us some good flavour choices around family values, historical trauma, what they look like and what kind of expert they are, but make no mistake; this is a veteran soldier and you are on that road with them. It's a masterpiece in creating just enough freedom for ownership of a character while telling a very distinct story; if you are paying attention at the start, you know exactly what kind of person Shep has to have been to be considered for this role, which makes for a really clear path through.

Hawke in DA2, which was almost certainly designed to mirror the success of Shepard, follows a similar path. We know that Hawke is a refugee, and has a family, and fought in a recent battle. I would argue where Hawke is weaker to people who enjoy customisation is in setting them against their family; your Shepard could be a wunderkind or be eighty years old, have any number of emotional resonances in their personal life. Hawke is much more definite in age range, relationships and social status, which gives less freedom in making them truly your own. However, DA2 is highly consistent with Hawke. Perhaps you can only really customise the face and the attitude, but that attitude ripples through all of your interactions and creates a very distinct character that is easy to become attached to.

Dragon Age Origins does a very different thing by threading through the origins into inferences throughout the story. The knowns are that you will be the Warden and you will have to save the world. How you get there offers enormous choice. You can be a self-serving politician trying to weasel your way back into power, or you can be a devout Andrastrian on a path to martyrdom. A lot of this choice comes from the choice that is allowed with a non-voiced protagonist in sheer range of responses, a pathway that games like BG3 and Pillars of Eternity have continued.

It is essential you are clear with your player early in what is known about the character, both to help them establish them in a world and avoid disappointing their expectations. If your character is a rookie, say it! If they are an expert, make it clear. You can do this through action too - it doesn't have to all be written out.

To voice or not to voice

To me, personally, Shepard is one of the only truly successful voiced customisable protagonists. I have others I like very much (V in Cyberpunk 2077 and Hawke in DA2) but they are much more a slightly editable character on a defined narrative journey. The moment you put a voice on a character you are deciding tone, meaning and intention, and if your written choice doesn't accurately reflect your tone, it breaks immersion. Shepard walks a careful line that is aided by them being "on the job" for much of the time. Formality helps! It creates boundaries that we instinctively understand from our world.

If you have a voiced protagonist, then you have to either record a ton of lines allowing for anger, diplomacy, fun, inquisition and dismissal, and if you don't do that? You probably should have just set up a more defined character and told their story, and been clear in that expectation from your establishing moments.

Oh, Lore

One thing I really liked in BG3 is the way you could toggle on and off lore friendly options during character creation. It gave you the chance to say actually no, I don't care, or make sure you were creating within that world if you did. But regardless, if you have established lore, you have to carry it through. If you have a ton of backgrounds for characters, you have to make sure that's meaningful. A Grey Warden should be able to sense Darkspawn in their first encounter; it's a huge part of their deal. A Qunari character, if you have not specified that they are Tal-Vashoth and strictly from one background, should be able to reflect positively on their religion and cultural upbringing or see things through a non-Andrastrian lens. This is where it can be easier, even if it is disappointing, to set stronger boundaries in the creation of characters. For the most part, people are okay with limitations if it gives them something to work with. In Inquisition there were complaints about how much or little the backgrounds really added to the experience of being the Herald of Andraste, but they did choose backgrounds where there might be a rough knowledge of what was occuring at the conclave. It's okay to leave some things for people to fill in the gaps, but consistency is key.

Learning as the character learns

One clever way to establish connection but allow for discovery is for the characters to learn as we do. The Dark Urge in BG3 is an obvious example of this, but I'd also add in The Watcher in Pillars of Eternity too, and even V from CP77. Whatever they thought they are, they are something more, and it allows us to keep all of what we thought we knew about our characters and find out more along the way. It allows the game to take us down a path of the present, not the past (even though all of them ARE discovering events of the past!) by making it about what a person sees themself as, what they want to be, and what they have been. It sidesteps invalidation of ideas by creating narratives that are inherently biased as they are memory, allowing us to take or question the information we are given as we are given it. It trusts an audience and the player to invest their own opinions in the burgeoning narrative.

To do this, you need to make sure that the player has a good grasp, again, of what they do know. Good grounding is essential here. Think of the prologue of Pillars of Eternity, where we can establish a character's whole value system, or the pre-heist time with V which allows us to establish an enormous amount of relationship building and relationship to the world around them. Take that time, or it will fall apart.

#okay that's it for now I've run out of time #I may come back to this

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wen-kexing-apologist · 4 months ago

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Bengiyo's Queer Cinema Syllabus

For those of you who don’t know, I decided to run the gauntlet of @bengiyo’s queer cinema syllabus, which is comprised of 9 units. I have completed four of the units (here is my queer cinema syllabus round up post with all the films I’ve watched and written about so far). It is time for me to make my way through Unit 5- Lesbians, which includes the following films: The Incredibly True Adventure of Two Girls in Love (1995), Bound (1996), Water Lilies (2007) [Skipping for now until I can get access to it], Saving Face (2004), D.E.B.S. (2004), Set It Off (1996), The Handmaiden (2016), Carol (2015), Imagine Me and You (2005), Two of Us (2019), Rafiki (2018), and The Color Purple (1985).

Today I will be talking about

Saving Face (2004) dir. Alice Wu

[Run Time: 1:31, Language: English and Mandarin]

Summary: A gay Chinese-American and her traditionalist mother are reluctant to go public with secret loves that clash against cultural expectations.

Cast: -Joan Chen as Hwei-Lan Gao -Michelle Krusiec as Wilhelmina ‘Wil’ Pang -Lynn Chen as Vivian Shing

I love when people actually have the opportunity to write and direct stories that absolutely ooze their cultures. I am not Asian, but the family dynamics that exist as a result of this story happening to an Asian family are incredibly legible and makes the film very fun to watch as writer and director Alice Wu completely scrambles the relationships between characters/families.

This was a really smart film to include in this syllabus considering the pathway to the end of the syllabus is leading towards BL shows. Saving Face follows a storyline that feels very similar to a lot of what we will see in BL when it comes to parents and their queer children trying to reach some understanding of each other. It also has some of the visual motifs that are very popular in the BL I have watched like the use of vertical walls to signal a barrier between characters (though obviously this is not unique to BL) and honestly with how many workplace BLs we’ve gotten that have made me less than enthusiastic about the actual power dynamics at play, Saving Face does a really good job showing how power dynamics can manifest in the workplace when you just so happen to be dating your bosses daughter.

gif by @filmreel

My favorite part of this film honestly is the family relationship, how evident it is that behavior is learned and passed down between generations, like when Hewi-Lan tells Wil she worked nights so Wil could eat preceding Hwei-Lan’s father (Wai Gung) telling Hwei-Lan that he endured hardship so she could have a better life.

It was really fun to watch how Wil and Hwei-Lan’s relationship shifts, and how they both grow as people, that Hwei-Lan starts the film wanting to give Wil’s neighbor Jay a paper plate when he comes to dinner so she can throw it away afterward and not wanting to eat too much soy sauce so her baby doesn’t “become dark”, to Hewi-Lan thinking that Vivian is racist and being mad about it to Jay and Hewi-Lan hanging out, using face masks, eating, and watching dramas together, irrespective of Wil’s presence.

Or starting the film with Hwei-Lan strategizing with her friends about potential male suitors for her daughter for the Friday night Planet China dances, to Wil running through her own channels to develop a roster of possible Chinese men to send her mother out on dates with towards the middle of the film when they are still trying to find someone that will marry her in order to prevent further shame or disgrace from befalling their family as a result of Hwei-Lan’s pregnancy. I loved Wil helping her mom get ready for the dates and even though it was parentification, I enjoyed that role reversal of getting to see her mom be hesitant, doubtful, and self-conscious, and if nothing else I loved that moment for how genuine Wil is when she tells her mom she’s beautiful.

Or getting the lines about how everyone in the Chinese community is two degrees of separation from anyone else, and how that one off-handed line truly feels like the biggest non-family explanations for why Wil is so hesitant to be physical intimate or queer in public. As an example, you can tell she’s a little worried that Vivian told her mom that they were dating. And I liked the reveal towards the end that Hwei-Lan has known this whole time that Wil is queer but is willfully ignoring it, and that the set ups she has been trying to do for Wil at the beginning of the film are because Hwei-Lan caught her being queer and not because Hwei-Lan doesn’t know she’s queer. So you get the added layer of hesitancy around Wil’s engagement in her romantic relationship with Vivian, especially because Vivian’s parents are a part of their social circle and that puts Wil at very high risk of her mother finding out.

gifs by @mrgaretcarter

And she has very good reason to be because Vivian is out to both of her parents and the second that Vivian’s father sees Wil and Viv in a room together he immediately clocks their relationship and exerts his power as Wil’s boss to basically force Wil to break up with Vivian.

I’ll talk about this more in the Favorite Moment portion but I absolutely loved the scene where Hwei-Lan expresses her concerns about her impending motherhood (“I am going to be a terrible mother”) and how it pairs with Hwei-Lan’s response to Wil coming out (“I am not a bad mother. My daughter is not gay.”) How the saving face cycles and Hwei-Lan has been willfully ignoring Wil’s queerness and how Hwei-Lan was going to marry a man she did not love, for the second time to save face for her father, and how it took Wil barging in and essentially giving her permission to be happy to finally abandon that and follow her own heart.

gif by @lonesomedotmp3

And how in doing so, she is finally able to accept Wil’s sexuality, support her mad dash to the airport to try to save her relationship, comfort her child in heartbreak, and play an active role in getting Wil and Vivian back together.

Favorite Moment

My favorite moment is when Hwei-Lan and Wil are talking about Hwei-Lan’s pregnancy and Hwei-Lan actually voices some of her fears about becoming a mother, the first time she’s really talked at length about her pregnancy, and it is doubly important to me because Hwei-Lan is saying all of this to her daughter. Like, just read this part of the script:

Hwei-Lan: I'm going to be a terrible mother. Wil: What? Hwei-Lan: I don't even like babies. Stephen's always bringing his kid to the shop. All that drooling. Gross. You were different. You sprung from the womb already grown-up. And I had your father during your early years. He was really patient. Wil: You have me.

It is very important to me because the transition in to Hwei-Lan and Wil living together has not been the smoothest, and because Hwei-Lan has been thrown out of her parent’s house by her father because of her pregnancy and so the only person she really does have to rely on in that moment is her daughter. And it is nice to know that despite all of the things they maybe don’t understand or refuse to acknowledge about each other, that at the end of the day they are there to support.

gif by @lonesomedotmp3

We even see it with Wai Gung, who says at the end of the film that when the baby girl is born he will be over at Hwei-Lan’s apartment every day to take care of his grandchild. Sure he covers that with the excuse of not trusting what will happen if her parents are in charge of raising her, but that’s an excuse, you just know that Wai Gung is going to absolutely adore his granddaughter.

Favorite Quote

“Are you lonely?” // “No, I have you,”

Score

9.5/10

I absolutely adored this film.

#bengiyo's queer cinema syllabus #queer cinema syllabus #saving face #saving face (2004)#saving face 2004

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yogurtkags · 1 month ago

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❝ IF NOT FOR YOU ❞ — semi eita

04. easier

♫ … cw: slight angst, slight jealous semi, misunderstandings, semi finally comes to his senses about his feelings, mentions of drinking/alcohol

"why do we always gotta run away? and we wind up in the same place, it's like we're looking for the same thing"

series masterlist | prev | next

"be real with me, do you think i'm being irrational?" you question atsumu earnestly, yet there's a tinge of doubt tickling the back of your throat, you've asked yourself and your roommates this countless of times and have backed yourself up into a corner and you're not expecting anything, but you want answers, answers to a seemingly self-inflicted problem.

atsumu rests his head in his palm, faux pondering on an answer that he seems to already have, "real talk? a little bit yeah."

the drink in your disposable cup is settling, ice diluting the flavoured milk tea as you stir the contents around mindlessly, eyes following the little black spheres swirling around erratically in hopes of seeming nonchalant, though you're anything but. your words are muffled by the chewy tapioca pearls as you ngaw on them, it's a little unglamorous but you don't really care too much at this point, atsumu's probably seen worse, "i was hoping you'd be able to give me some insight since you're both buddies or whatever."

"i don't know what to tell ya, we don't really talk about our love lives much—at least he doesn't."

"hito—yachi's convinced that he's in love with me but i don't know for sure."

"your cute roommate?" here we go again.

"my cute lesbian roommate, yes, but that's beside the point." you roll your eyes, making sure to add dramatic effect and pretending your eyeballs are stuck in the back of your sockets and facing inwards, atsumu almost choking in laughter, "back to the topic at hand."

"listen, ya probably don't want to here this, or maybe ya do, but i'm telling ya, he has to be into ya in some degree. if he does and he's still doing all these things and acting the way he does, he has to be some special kind of male manipulator."

with a groan, you shove your face into the space between your folded arms resting on the table, the sound echoing in the little pocket of air as you drag out the noise in frustration. tucked in the corner of the little boba shop, you sit defeated, looking up at the blonde sitting across from you helplessly as he returns your gaze with a look of pity, reaching over to ruffle your hair in what he means as comfort.

the other patrons pay no mind, this is probably a scene they've seen countless times before, going about their day without a second thought like a mere check on their to-do list. the rest of the world is continuing in it's orbit, but this? him? this is your world and it feels like it's suspended in space and time, the pathway to from point A to B looking like a desperate scribble on a piece of paper, trying to get the ink of your favourite pen to continue flowing when it seems like it's run out.

against your better judgement it feels like your time has run out and you can’t help but wonder, how did it get so bad, so fast?

eita recalls the way you got up and left earlier today, trailing behind atsumu with your head dipped low and a small wave, eyes not even meeting his as you darted out of the music room. he sat and mulled over the feeling even as kageyama and akaashi eventually took their leave as well, the latter casting him a side-long glance only to be waved off with an emotionless response, "you guys go ahead, i'll just stay here for a bit."

now, almost an hour later, he sits alone in the very same room in silence, nothing but the low hum of the air conditioning keeping him company. it's ironic isn't it, how this room has always been like a second home to him and the boys, to you, yet in this moment, despite all the little trinkets and knick knacks scattered around in the name of decoration and making it feel more lived in, he's never felt more lonely.

he squeezes his eyes shut and reopens them, the rush of light temporarily blinding him in a stark white until it washes away as he refocuses on his surroundings, and unfortunately, he's still here. it's wishful thinking to hope that it'll wash away all the uncertainty away with it, but alas, it doesn't work like that.

everything eita thinks he knows, you, he knows you, but how did that change so quickly? it feels like he can’t get a read on you lately — your avoidance, the hiding, the unexplained radio silence.

he’s tempted, so tempted, to just shoot you a message right now asking if you’re okay, but he stops himself. maybe, she just doesn’t want to see me. it’s a horrible thought to have, one that he always hopes is never true, but given the current circumstances, he’s not surprised. i wouldn’t want to see me if i were her. you’re out with atsumu anyway, and as much as he hates that it’s not him that’s with you right now, he knows you’re in safe hands.

instead, he clicks on the audio file of your recording for the song you worked on together. untitled 09 - raw, propping it up on his lap as he sits cross legged on patterned carpet that’s due for a clean. he’s heard it many times by now in the production process, but listening to it again now, sparks something new within him. he dwells on every word that’s sung out of your mouth, finding himself understanding the narrative that you’re putting out on a more personal level — love, yearning and want, it’s a letter to oneself about the way the person you love makes you feel, and he can’t help but picture your face at the end of every line.

he experiences every second, every atom of it like a punch to the gut, and once the recording ends, he just sits, slumped forward with his head in his hands. all of a sudden he feels the need to get out of this room, everything all too suffocating as he quickly packs up his things, zips up his guitar case and makes a beeline for the exit. his phone buzzes with a notification from akaashi, putting his spiralling on hold for a second to double take, making sure it’s actually him as he skims through the messages.

well, what’s else is there to lose?

— fun facts.

♫ … yes, yn thought of semi as her world. how she's still in denial that she's in love with him? i don't know, even atsumu is in slight disbelief.

♫ … semi has to make sure he wasn't seeing things when akaashi texted because he almost never reaches out to anyone outside of the band's group chat.

♫ … akaashi enjoys drinking alone from time to time, just to escape for a bit, if you will. he likes people watching and eavesdropping on other people's conversations because tea.

♫ … most of the time he's with bo though :3

♫ … semi thinks getting drunk will save him.

taglist. open (link to form) @wyrcan @aozui @cheesypuffkins87 @peachyugoose @tetzoro

@twiishaa @samuel1004 @blueparadis @ashyiiy

notes. whoever saw the first version of this before i accidentally deleted it, please wipe it from your memory, i am so sorry for being stupid. ANYWAY! next chapter might be fully texts / smau elements, we'll see!

#ᯓ★ : written in the stars !#semi eita #semi x reader #semi eita x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #dividers: @/roseraris #dividers: @/cafekitsune

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wings-of-ink · 2 months ago

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Hello! I just wanted to say GC is soooo good! I've replayed it several times and every time I play I fall in love with the entire cast, they are all so interesting and adorable (especially Oswin if I could I would make him the biggest cup of hot chocolate and shower him with compliments) 🥹🥹🥹 The writing is also amazing! Your pacing is really good, every scene is always interesting and I never skip over paragraphs (which is a bad habit I tend to do when I'm bored while reading). I have started to get into writing and I was wondering if you have any tips you could share on plotting IF, pacing stories/scenes, making interesting characters, or anything else you want to share!

Hello dear! I am so glad you are liking GC so much! I too am guilty of skimming (mostly on re-reads, but sometimes my ADHD is like, go on - do a flip!). And Oswin would totally be down for some hot chocolate and compliments - ideal date material there.

I get a little teary eyed every time someone mentions that they like the writing. We are our own worst critics, so it just lights up my soul that my writing is enjoyable for you. I will try my best to give you some bits that have helped me, but no one formula works for everyone. The key is to find your formula, try things out and see what jives with your way of doing things.

Apologies, this ended up way longer than I anticipated, but I kept thinking of things that I wanted to include, lol.

What I would recommend for sure is to actually do some self-study on editing and not necessarily just writing. That helped me quite a bit. Originally, I was going to return to college for some sort of certificate or Associates in the editing/writing spectrum. But, I am in a situation that I cannot afford to pay for classes for (another) degree that I end up resenting, lol. So, I studied editing myself to see if I felt it was something I would like and would be capable of. I learned a lot and really enjoyed.

*I highly recommend "Intuitive Editing" by Tiffany Yates Martin, and "Self-Editing for Fiction Writers," Second Edition by Dave King, Renni Browne, Dave King.*

There's a lot out there to choose from though. Also, thriftbooks.com has helped me score very affordable copies when money was tight. I applied a lot of what I learned in those books as best I could, especially when it comes to pacing and cutting out those things that readers tend to skip. A key thing to take away from those books is how to write dialogue. I focus on dialogue a lot and I am always working to make it as good as I am able. And really, you can google this too, there's lots of articles about it.

With pacing, I'm not sure if I can put it as good of words as other books or articles can. You sort of need to just keep in mind of where you're going - push the plot forward always. But also remember that IFs take more space in this realm because of the different paths, especially if you have a romance element. IF readers want variety and they want to impact the story.

You can't get too lost in the details and descriptions all the time. If your setting is temporary - you don't need 6 passages about how the moss on the stones reminds your character of their emotional pathway in life. This is also a stylistic choice - I cannot write this way, but others are totally gifted to do so. For me, I like to let my reader make part of the setting - give them the framework and the important details, and their imagination fills in the blanks (but I will say there's a balance that, one I am still working on, lol). This helps move you along since your key points aren't broken up by paragraph upon paragraph of description.

As for planning & plotting, that part can be hard for me - ADHD, lol. I had no particular method for this, I just understand my limitations (attention and memory to name 2). GC started as a plot point in a note on my phone. It was really just the MC and their situation. From there, I just grew it out and kept thinking about it. I had a notebook that I brainstormed things in, from plot to characters and setting, I just jotted things down. I would recommend that before you start writing you know where you're going. You don't have to have everything plotted out bit by bit. You need your key moments, landmarks to hit on your journey through to where your ultimate destination is (or destinations if you want multiple outcomes).

Don't be reluctant to change things as you go. There are parts of GC that I thought for sure I'd have that ended up changing a lot or removed for the better. Be flexible, but if you have a specific scene in your head - write it - even if you don't know what comes before or after. If you use it that's great, if not - save it for later or for another story.

For characters, I don't know for sure, but I imagine everyone's approach is different. I don't even have a set method for this, some characters sort of spring to mind on their own. Sometimes, you may think of a personality you like or even a tragic backstory, and the character forms from there. I'd recommend keeping it a bit realistic - make them bad at things, give them a few defining characteristics/ticks/quirks, but remember that they can choose to act differently sometimes.

Something helpful to get to know your characters is to do profiles and such for them. There are lots of character templates out there that will ask you questions to help you flesh them out. One of my favorite things to do is to actually take a personality test or two from the point of view of my character - to see how would they answer these questions. The results you read can just help cement them as an actual person, and if you're not sure how they'd respond to something, you can consult these. I like to use https://www.16personalities.com/ just keep in mind that personality is not a set science at all, but reading up on them can really help you bring them to life.

For IFs specifically, I am still new to this. It is similar but different to writing a regular novel with set characters. Flexibility is key, but you have to remember you cannot appease every single reader even if you want to. When I write passages, I try to think of different ways things could go, or how different MCs might want to influence the situation. This can get daunting, so you sort of need to mitigate what is worth writing unique outcomes for (is the energy to do it and the impact worth it?).

Probably the biggest thing I would recommend for IF writing is to makes notes and track your stuff. For GC I have a document just for code and variables. I pre-write the code so I can copy and paste it and then fill in the unique text for whatever variable I'm on. I also keep separate documents that are "living" for each character, an overarching outline for the whole plot, reminders, editing notes - whatever I need. For me, it helps to do separate digital (searchable) documents, it just depends on your style of working.

Most of all, if you love writing, write. Find your voice. Try different things. Just do it. Don't fret about if it's been "done before" because, to an extent, everything really has - but no one has written your version of it. Write what you like, what you know. No one else is you.

Just a personal note from me - I got so caught up in being an "adult" with a college experience and jobs that left me withered like a husk, that I stopped doing what I loved for a long time. I have loved writing since I was a child. I wrote for fun with my best friend. I made stupid funny stories for my high school crew. I even did very bad comics for a while. It was just a downward spiral, and I hardly read or wrote anything for years. So, just keep at it. Even if you don't use what you write, it's good for the soul. Even if no one reads it, just do it for you.

I hope something in there is useful for you. Sorry if it's a lot, you let this dog off the leash and I got into literally everything (sorry I also piddled in the living room again). ^_^

#just Lunan things #asks

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bestworstcase · 9 months ago

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Could a person get a new semblance?

If a semblance is the manifestation of a person's soul, could a person change so completely from who they were when they unlocked their semblance that it changes internally?

If not, then why?

generally my sense is the answer is “no,” with the possible exception of something like a severe TBI resulting in a complete break in continuity of the self (e.g. on the level of phineas gage)—because of:

ren’s semblance.

the schnee semblance.

during the beacon arc, ren is established to be a very quiet and serious person who doesn’t express his emotions except in very small, subtle ways. a bit later we find out that his semblance allows him to mask emotions, hiding people from grimm, which flawlessly reflects the person he was at beacon. then, through v4-8, his emotional walls start to come down in tandem with an ever-growing degree of pressure putting stress on his existing model for how to deal with problems until he snaps and begins to alternate between lashing out and gravitating toward a perceived authority figure to tell him what to do—he’s erratic and emotionally volatile bc the box he keeps his feelings inside is disintegrating and his childhood fear of making the wrong choice, doing the wrong thing, is rearing its head again.

so he now has to figure out a whole new way to handle his emotions, and by that what i really mean is how to live and take action without disconnecting himself from what he feels. this is a dramatic reversal from the person he was at beacon. when he lets himself feel, ren turns out to be someone whose emotions are actually big and loud and overwhelming; he’s someone who shouts when he’s mad and cries when he’s upset and blurts out a list of things he loves about nora when she tears herself down.

and what happens to his semblance? it turns inside out!

masking emotions -> revealing emotions that other people are trying to suppress.

concealing people from grimm -> tracking people based on “spikes of emotion”

but crucially when this happens, ren doesn’t lose his original emotion-masking semblance. if anything, that seems to grow stronger: in 8.13 he masks a huge crowd of terrified refugees for what seems to have been a fairly long time—without jaune’s help.

so semblances can and do radically change, but they do so by diversifying. you don’t lose the ‘old’ semblance—the you you were remains a part of the you you are now—but instead grow whole new branches.

this brings us to the schnee semblance, which is a) hereditary and b) by a wide margin the most versatile semblance in the story. telekinesis, speed, summoning of aura constructs, time dilation, and the glyphs are solid enough to use as shields and floating platforms. why? it’s hereditary. the sheer range this semblance has represents an accumulation of many different individuals who grew and changed in ways that branched the shared semblance in a new direction, and then—because this family takes so much pride in their hereditary semblance—taught their relatives how to do the new trick too.

basically, i don’t think it’s possible to manifest a ‘new’ semblance that replaces the old one because the semblance itself has boundless, branching potential; you manifest new forms and new pathways. the semblance is more of a toolbox than a tool.

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ivanwm-05 · 1 year ago

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The Thousand Of Us (WIP)(Updated@82K words)

Name: The Thousand Of Us

Genre: Superpowers/Post-Apocalyptic/ Sci-fi

Story plot:

Your story begins at what everyone largely saw as the end of the world. There was a bright flash that illuminated the night sky so brightly, it was identical to day as thousands of missiles in a last-ditch effort to save mankind collided with a ginormous asteroid entering our atmosphere.

You wake up two years later and find out that the crisis was averted, but a new crisis of similar proportions was created. The asteroid was carrying a never before seen element, mixed with the radiation that bathed the earth. It created a chain of genetic mutations that wiped out nearly the entire population of the planet and put every other living being in hibernation for two years.

For starters all adults are dead, only a thousand people 18 years of age and below around the globe survived, and the thousand of you that survived, wake up to discover that you each now have unique powers. The only problem is that you’re not the only ones that same phenomenon gave powers, also mutated every other living organism on the planet to varying degrees and they were also in hibernation for as long as you are, so they have about 2 years worth of hunger to satiate.

Would you focus on Survival and Rebuilding? or would you try to Unite or Conquer other groups of teenagers to form a more powerful force against the threats you face? Would you try to Find a Cure or Solution by striving to find a way to reverse the mutations in animals and restore the planet to its former state? or would you struggle in Navigating Moral Choices? You could Uncover Hidden Powers or struggle to Establish a Safe Haven for you and your group.

Features:

You can select one out of a long list of abilities, ranging from just flight to insane regenerative abilities to even earth-shaking strength or even necromancy.

Struggle to stay alive as you do not just have to watch out for mutated plants, animals, and even crazy weather conditions, but also have to watch out for other humans who seek to conquer and lead the rest of the survivors with their terrifying abilities.

You get to choose your MC’s demeanour and how you react to situations. You can be cold and calculative or you could be shy and reserved.

Most involved characters are up to 18 & older including the MC.

Hidden pathways will be made available based on certain choices made within the book that will reveal new endings and shape the LIs future just try to explore this new world.

There might be some explicit scenes but if there are you’ll have the option to fade to black. Mild gore might be unavoidable and there would definitely (depending on your choices though) be death scenes.

Romantic Interest:

I’m gonna try to make this relatable so no definite number yet but nearly every person you encounter, depending on your interaction and relationship with them can be romanced by your MC.

MC can romance male/female/non-binary characters.

I would also create LIs that exist outside of the MC to showcase that the MC’s involvement in their life created a change within them.

Polyamory possible.

Current Word count: 81,679(without code) and 492,008 (with code)

Code is pretty beefed up because I want to branch this out as much as possible so you have the liberty to make whatever choice you desire and live with the consequences.

Updates would come in a format of 100k words per update and patrons get +30k word access ahead of the general public.

To play the demo, go here: Play Demo

My Tumblr page: Tumblr

Support me on Patron

Any and all feedback and suggestions would be appreciated.

And also, I would really appreciate if you could take some time to screenshot your final stats after the Demo. It'll really guide me in the next updates.

Oh and if your good in art, you can help me in making the Cover of this game, just send in whatever you have. Thank you☺

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bleekay · 8 months ago

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anyone who cares about the me hating my room layout saga........come along w me...... no img descriptions im so sorry..... i can only describe these images as "2d bedroom/office poorly laid out in various ways"

sorry im using inches not cm. so here is my room's current layout:

it's a small room, less than 10'x11'. that window on the side is 6'x6' and the window sill sticks out 2 inches from the wall, and it starts 1 foot up from the floor. im using my desk as a bedside table rn. why do i want to rearrange this? why does it kill me that this is what i'm stuck with?

SICK OF MY MOM DOING THIS SHIT. just silently standing in my doorway whenever she walks past my room and i have something interesting to her on my screen. she wont even announce she's there, she just stands there. one time i was watching some stupid funny video and i found out she was behind me because she LAUGHED and it scared the shit out of me. yes i have talked to her about it. yes she knows i don't like it. she says she "doesn't do it on purpose" just sometimes she'll walk past and see something on the screen and can't help but look. girl.

but like heres the thing... what if friends have drawn nice porn??? ideally let's not let my mom look at it. I want to draw porn??? lol, lmao even. imagine what i could make if i were free. no but fr even aside from that, just day to day, it'd be nice to feel like an adult and not a kid whose parent is looking over their shoulder all the time, even past the invasion of privacy issue, having my back to the door means im always on edge... so that is goal number 1.

("why dont you just close your door?" dogs ok shut up)

(also wanted to say that step 1 in preventing my mom from just Doing That was to get a door curtain, which i have now, but it does not change my desire to move my desk. it isnt enough.)

goal number 2 is giving the dogs a pathway equal in flow to the current one. the dog seat next to my chair is 26 inches high, so the dogs can only get there from the bed, not the floor. you can see right now, it's easy peasy for them, step up, bed, seat. that blue circle is where i initially put the dog seat, and it was lower at the time so the dogs could reach it from the floor. alas, katze hated it on that side even though it was easier for me to get out of my chair when it was on the left of me instead of the right.

ok, so we've got the two big goals. desk against right-side wall. easy layout for dogs.

i need you to know i've tried a lot of different layouts ok. i am showing you a FRACTION of the attempts. a fraction!!!! i tried a layout with my bed at a 45 degree angle, don't "have you tried--" me

the left side wont work bc the dresser and bed overlap by 2 inches and it simply won't fit. the right one solved that problem. but both of these have two other problems: 1, dogs falling into window gap lol -- easily solvable, i'll just fill in the window with pillows or something -- and 2, i have to choose whether to give the dogs a step over to their seat or to have a bedside table. can't have both. and i need a bedside table so the dog seat would have to go on the other side with a step up, which would block me in. also unacceptable. both of these are out.

thats what led me to this layout, which i made a post about. so the dresser would work as a bedside table for me, the dogs have decent flow up the step, to the bed, over onto the dog seat. but ah. the space between the desk and the bed is about 20 inches. maybe a little less if the window sill pushes the bed out an inch or two from the wall. am trapped. probably difficult to get in and out. i am not teeny tiny.

and now we are here:

if i just scoot the desk down i have room to move, dogs still have flow, everything's good..... except. you see it right. just a. large gap in the corner. nothing there. surrounded by things that are all 2 feet high or taller. so, a pit really. but, ah, what's this????

a free table exactly the length and width of the gap, stopping any chance of the dogs falling down there and hurting themselves or being unable to get out???

wow, i can move my printer from on top of the dresser to on that table! i can put my mini shelves there which are currently sitting on my desk! i can maybe even set some little trinkets and doodads there!! ah, table that is perfectly sized for my corner pit and that i got totally for free and is in really good shape and not falling apart, wow you're so great! :)

is what i would say if i had a table that fit there and was free and worked well

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foxbirdy · 1 year ago

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Hey man, if you're alright with it, do you mind if I ask a question?

When I was a kid, I really had a love and passion for zoology and conservation. For various reasons, I couldn't really attend university right out of high school and just had to focus on living day to day. I'm in a better place now, I think, and I would like to dip my toes in conservation to see if it's something I could do for life. The problem is that the only way I really know how to do that is by throwing myself in school. I was wondering if you knew of anyways of how to participate at a local level? Like if there's resources to volunteer or to connect with other people in the field? Even if it's not something I'll do for a career with how the world is, it kind of hurts just to do nothing

I appreciate ya man and I hope you're doing well. Stay safe out there.

I love this ask, and I'm sorry about the delay in answering! I'm out in the field right now, and my access to the internet is pretty limited.

My first answer is that while school is definitely a pathway into biology or conservation, it's absolutely not the be-all end-all. There are tons of programs open to laypersons and beginners of all kinds. At the local level, I would start looking to see if there's any interesting conservation corps programs being run in your state! Corps work is a great resume builder & trainer on anything from habitat restoration to trail work to wildfire prevention. Another possibility is to identify the public lands in your locality, whether it's national forest, wildlife refuge, state parks, DNR or BLM land, etc., and reach out to ask about volunteer opportunities or citizen science programs. Many of these districts are starved for help, and will be incredibly enthusiastic about getting you involved.

As for getting involved with wildlife specifically, there are plenty of opportunities to follow in schoolwork, but a lot of my best experience builders have been outside of school! Look into wildlife rehabilitation programs or natural science centers where you live, and how you can get involved -- a lot of the time, just asking the right person will get you somewhere. Look into bird banding courses, too! Look into butterfly rearing! There is such a rich diversity of ways to participate in wildlife conservation, regardless of whether or not you have a degree.

#wishing you luck out there!#asks #anonymous #dirtbag tag #beckett.txt

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starqueensthings · 1 month ago

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PREV | NEXT | FOREWORD | MASTER | AO3

Summary: June joins Howzer on a mission for caffeine. She learns a little about his role, his men, his outlook— and he, unknowingly, helps her navigate her struggle as a teacher. For a fleeting moment, June forgets to uphold that self indoctrinated distaste… that long-upheld aversion. For a moment, his companionship feels like nothing she’s ever felt before… nothing that she’d ever permitted herself to entertain… enjoy. But a moment is just a moment. Enjoy the roller coaster of this chapter— please remember certain aspects of a character (snippets of dialogue, facial expressions, etc) are all specifically placed so the audience can witness growth. We all about growth up in this house!

Rating/WC: all chapters are rated 16+ unless stated otherwise | 4475 words.

PLEASE ENSURE YOU’VE READ THE FOREWORD LINKED BELOW FOR AN IN-DEPTH DESCRIPTION OF WHAT DEGREE OF CONTENT YOU CAN EXPECT THROUGHOUT THIS STORY BEFORE PROCEEDING.

The jubilant breeze tumbling throughout the confines of the courtyard perched just opposite those glass doors instantly brandished her hair from her shoulders, beaming rays pouring mercilessly from overhead instantly capitalizing on the opportunity to remind her enraged skin of its power, and she near-winced upon feeling her neck prickle neath its unwelcome intensity.

“You okay?” Howzer asked as they trod down the half dozen stairs toward the locked gate, seemingly noting the sudden cringe atop her features.

“Yeah, fine,” June answered casually. “Spent too much time by the pool with my friend the other day and I’m still paying for it.”

“I saw that,” he chuckled, offering a sympathetic little grimace. “I’d offer some advice but I honestly can’t say I’ve ever had too bad of a sunburn.”

“Yeah, well… Quit braggin’,” June demanded with a smile. “I say this to my best friend all the time: not all of us are gloriously melanous.”

A tingle unrelated to that overhead radiance rolled down her back as his head tipped backward amidst a genuine laugh, and attempting to veil the flush rising rapidly back to her cheeks, she quickly reached to fiddle with the cuff of her sleeve… only to remember she was not wearing long sleeves, instead awkwardly shoving a dawdling finger neath the strap of her watch and giving it an pointless twist around her wrist.

As it turned out, the Combat Base’s close proximity to their chosen cafe perfectly elucidated why Hutchie’s was an establishment of which she’d never heard. Though for how distant it was from the central, senatorial sector of which June was largely familiar, only mere steps atop the pathway leading toward the jovial tinkle of its distant doorbell exposed how just how favoured of a spot it was for the denizens.

Yet even more astonishing than the steady flow of travel cup-laden patrons, stolling past with their steaming flimsi containers of delightful aromatic caf, was truly how simple it was to converse with the man next to her. Despite the butterflies in her stomach continuing their silent attempts at internal homicide, chatting with Howzer felt as intuitive as simply placing one foot in front of the other atop that bustling pathway.

Though their first encounter had far superseded the second in terms of duration, the plaguing ailment and the gentle coaxing he’d required before consenting to treatment had, unfortunately, dominated most of their conversation. Their only encounter since had been tragically too-short to engage in anything more than the hopelessly giddy “hi, I have to run but I really hope I’ll see you soon!” sentiments before the pair parted ways with dopey smiles atop their lips.

And in the void of pain or urgency, it was difficult not to marvel at just how casually that Captain carried himself. Imbued an insouciant energy of which June was sure she’d never be able to embody as effortlessly as Howzer did, breezy probes at conversation spilled from his lips as if he were intrinsically aware of all the topics she could chitter about for hours (though the way that mildly crooked smile wrapped its way around each word had her increasingly confident she would have been perfectly content to just listen to the music of that accented tone). Meanwhile, those large, boot-clad feet moved unhurried toward their destination as if the pathway itself had wordlessly offered to glide below at whatever speed he’d prefer; thankfully he’d defaulted to a cadence more comfortable for her much shorter legs.

As they wove through the ambling crowd, Howzer gushed about his Company; the 742nd was, admittedly, an anomaly of sorts. Not only did their authority ladder end with a Clone Commander and not the Jedi General that typically apexed large sectors of soldiers, but a period of extensive training in its earliest days of formation had seen those boys in teal thrust into an unusual hybrid role. Though classified as a “reconnaissance collection company subfractured from the 91st”, the 742nd was often deployed, instead, as an “assault and secure force”, meaning they were just as frequently tasked with infiltrating an enemy base and securing its perimeter until such a time that reinforcements could arrive and claim the location as their own. Yet, he spoke of his career with the same admirable informality as he would speak of the weather, reminiscing of battles as if recalling the events of a party he’d recently attended, and though she was sure it had rendered her expression to something near a slack-jawed grouper fish, that unforeseen disposition had captured June’s attention and simply refused to free it.

His perspective of war seemed …well, different to anything she’d overheard from soldiers amidst her duties at work. Often those armoured troopers spoke of their duty with an unignorable severity; of the responsibility they carried to both loyally serve and immutably protect the Republic to which they served; of their allegiance to their CO’s, their brethren, and the legion they’d been assigned; of the demand for stoic, unvarying courage in the face of enemies they’d never seen before. Howzer spoke of governing his men as if they were nothing but a bizarrely oversized and appropriately dysfunctional family— ‘vod, he kept calling them before quickly explaining this was a common Mando’a word for brother. He spoke of their battle experiences as if those teal painted men had collectively experienced several disjointed parts of a larger, harrowing adventure; those that were sadly killed on the way were celebrated to a higher degree than those that survived, as the lost had simply moved on to a more exhilarating life of which none of them knew just yet. He spoke of the unremitting desire and obligation to keep his men grounded— to ensure they felt nothing but relative ease and confidence as they marched into the relative unknown…

“Just in here.”

June wrenched her gaze from that enamoring square jaw as he slowed his pace and veered slightly toward a glass door on the right, instead redirecting her eyes upward toward the sign overhead. Hung from the soffit by two oversized copper chains, that deep emerald placard and the loopy gold cursive laying bare the name of that little cafe was immediately familiar, June’s mind quickly extracting the image of the tiny green card she'd opened and cherished some days previous.

“Oh, thank you,” she muttered upon realizing Howzer had pulled the door ajar and was waiting for her to enter ahead of him.

But hardly a step through the door and into that foreign space had thrust an inherently wholesome fragrance into her nose; unseen steaming loaves of delicious crusty sourdough bread, carafes of fresh caf gurgling just out of sight, crystallized and caramelized sugars mixed with an enticing blend of aromatic spices… vanilla, cardamom, cinnamon, clove… and something earthy and deeply familiar.

Though her olfactory system seemed instantly content enough to simply stand atop that threshold and breathe in those potent whiffs of sheer delight, the opportunity was usurped by just how visually overwhelming the interior of that tiny shop was.

“Wow,” June whispered, gaze dancing fervently from corner to corner, item to item, person to person, whilst her feet took her thoughtlessly in Howzer’s wake toward the treat laden display cases on the left.

Like her companion, Hutchie’s was nothing short of …different. Utterly void of that sterile rigidity of which Coruscant remained notorious, three steps into that creaky, rustic cafe had June feeling as if she’d been unknowingly transported to a little bistro on a distant planet. High ceilings and limewashed walls worked in tandem to ensure that relatively cramped square footage was suffused with an indescribable, natural comfort. Taking up the majority of the cafe’s interior real estate was a sitting area along the right side; dozens of time-worn wooden chairs housing patrons of all shapes, colours, and sizes, an equi-diverse array of baked treats perched atop tables anchoring those esoteric conversations.

“Ouuu, Alocasia Zebrina!” June suddenly uttered aloud, excitement surging through her veins as her eyes affixed themselves upon a very familiar-looking striped plant perched in the center of those scrubbed pine tops.

“Say again?” Howzer asked, the din of chatter echoing around those four corners forcing him to lower his ear to only inches from her lips.

“Um, Alocasia Zebrina,” she repeated somewhat meekly, the subtle addition of his aftershave in her nose quickly overpowering that fleeting glee. “The plant on all the tables. I have one at home too. They’re notoriously hard to keep alive.”

Though not robbed of its clarity by the merciless cacophony still ringing around those walls, his chuckling response went wholly unheard, a sharp gasp escaping June’s lips as a searing pain erupted in her knee.

“Ow!” she exclaimed, left hand absently reaching to steady herself with the nearest pillar of solidity, while the other darted downward to appease her now throbbing leg.

“Sorry,” a passerby grunted. “Busy place. Watch where you’re stepping.”

“You okay?”

Again, Howzer went ignored, June’s narrowed gaze affixed on the back of the retreating Zabraki man who had nearly knocked her off her feet as he pushed his way through the throng.

“What happened?” Howzer tried again, this time successfully stealing her attention.

“Nothing,” June dismissed, cheeks flushing upon the realization the support she’d mindlessly sought amidst that unexpected jostle was the crook of that Captain’s elbow. “Guy just knocked into me on his way by. I’m fine.”

“Yeah, this place is always a madhouse,” Howzer answered, resuming normal posture and offering her an apologetic nod. “Stay close.”

Whether the shift was intentional or not, June soon found the back of her hand near-clamped between Howzer’s torso and elbow, the gentle pinch he’d applied to seemingly keep her grasp exactly where it had landed instantly took her mind off the bruise forming earnestly just below her kneecap.

As they lumbered forward in that lagging queue, mahogany floorboards creaking with every step, June’s focus shifted from the drape of her cold fingers around that scuffed plastoid to the display cases passing on her left side— floor to ceiling shelves presented some of the most immaculately prepared pastries she’d ever laid her eyes on; glazed donuts gleaming like edible orbs neath those overhead lights, richly decadent brownies blanketed in a crust of finely chopped nuts, strudels happily leaking their jellied innards onto the emerald green doilies they laid upon whilst waiting to be ingested. On the other side of that scrumptious exhibit, and only visible through gaps between that prolific array of decadence, scurried a dozen green-aproned staff members. Multicoloured hands of all shapes and sizes appeared routinely behind those delicacies, a sheet of protective wax flimsi draped atop palms preparing to extract the confection that some lucky patron up ahead had just claimed as their own. And though her mouth watered uncontrollably at first sight of a delectable looking meiloorun muffin, June’s thoughts had wandered near urgently toward the egregiously overdue caf her very cells continued to demand with each passing, uncaffeinated moment.

“Whatcha gettin’?” Howzer asked as they neared the front counter, her nose flooded with that intoxicating yet unfamiliar, delicate musk as he lowered his lips to a mere breath from her ear.

“Ummmm,” June hesitated, brows furrowing as her eyes danced fervently around the exorbitant list of foreign-beaned caf’s scrawled upon a chalkboard on the wall opposite. “Whatever it was that you sent to my office last week?”

“That was the Apple Java,” he advised her, pointing toward the center of the list. “Large?”

“Extra-large…”

The sudden exposure of that chronic caf addiction, and the way those dark brows raised at her seemingly mechanical, knee-jerk response, would have had her near-cringing neath the weight of self-consciousness had it not been for the smile quickly peeling across those dark lips, twinkly eyes softening as they danced warmly atop her features.

“Extra-large it is,” he repeated with the subtlest of snorts.

“I’ll buy though,” she hastily added, reaching to extract her wallet from the depths of her bag as he turned to greet the humanoid waiting behind the cash register.

“What?” he demanded. “No way! I’m ordering for like sixteen people.”

“So?”

“So! That’s going to cost you a fortune.”

“You fed the entire surgical floor with all those treats last week,” June argued with a shrug, removing her hand from the security of his elbow to unzip her wallet. “I can repay the favour.”

“That was differen—”

“Trust me when I say: I’m more stubborn than you are, and you will not win this.”

She watched his once-smiling lips purse ahead of unsaid protests, gaze narrowing slightly as it bore into hers, seemingly resolute in witnessing the first twitch of muscle that might lay bare any hesitation on her part… but she met that surveying leer with a stern, unwavering one of her own, blue piercing brown as if daring him to object further.

“Fine,” he consented atop the ghost of chuckle. “But put that hand back.”

She repressed a smile as he turned and began to order (twelve regular caf, four decaf, and one extra-large Apple Java), every subsequent breath escaping past her lips struggling to ignore the flutter that had erupted in her gut as he'd assertively collected her cold fingers and directed them back to their previous wreath around his elbow.

“Here’s the Apple Java, and the decaf,” the cashier announced hardly a minute later, passing a familiar looking flimsi cup across that mahogany counter to June’s outstretched palm, and a cardboard carrying tray of four others to Howzer. “We’re just brewing a fresh pot of regular caf. Give us a few minutes, and we’ll call you over when it’s ready.”

June followed in the Captain’s wake a half dozen paces toward one of the smaller tables anchored against the wall, the soul-warming aroma of apple and peekaboo vanilla wafting upward from the container in her hands near-banishing those irksome butterflies. With a small squeal of released anticipation and excitement she popped open the tab on that duraplas lid and took a sip of that scalding delight.

Snickering at the undeniable joy atop her features, Howzer pulled the nearest chair out from its perch beneath that scrubbed pine tabletop and gestured for her to sit, before placing both that laden travel tray and his helmet atop the table between them and taking a seat of his own.

“So you’re a full caffeine kinda guy,” June gleaned with a smirk, noting instantly that Howzer had failed to collect a cup from the collection on the table whilst she cradled hers with both hands.

“Oh absolutely,” Howzer answered, casting the decaffeinated collection of cups in front of him a near-revolted look. “What’s the point of drinking a caf if it’s not to wake you up?”

“Warmth?” June suggested with a small shrug. “Flavour? Even with reduced caffeine levels, it’s a fantastic analeptic. Some like to keep their cortisol levels low. Not to mention it keeps the bowels moving…”

June hurried to hide the flush rising earnestly to her cheeks behind that flimsi container as Howzer’s head tipped back amidst a full chested laugh that promised to dismantle her composure, nose scrunching neath his amusement and raising the little hairs on her arms.

“I guess those are all pretty valid reasons,” he spoke, draping an arm casually atop the backrest of his seat and peering across the table at her with that characteristic twinkle behind his eyes.

She shirked his gaze as discreetly as she could, pretending to pluck a nonexistent piece of fluff from the rim of her drink as she fought to restrain the newly invigorated flapabout in her gut.

“Tell me about class,” he continued as she hurried to pacify the lingering capriciousness by bringing her caf to her lips again. “What happened that made your boss so happy?”

June paused only long enough to force that still blistering liquid down her throat before offering him an evasive, one-shouldered shrug. “I don’t know,” she mused, licking the remnants of the last gulp from her top lip and sitting up straight in her chair. “The guys in class have always seemed so …uninterested? It's been really hard to get them to engage with any of the content we’ve been trying to teach them, despite doing everything we can to make the lectures interesting.”

“They’re just not paying attention?” Howzer probed.

“Right… or paying attention to the wrong thing, or being disruptive. Some of them would just spend all three lecture hours sleeping… Some of them would stare at me like it was some stupid game and it drove me up the kriffing wall… Others at least tried to make it look like they were paying attention, but it’s not hard to spot someone that’s napping with their eyes open…

“Today they were actually responsive… even borderline excited about what they were learning. I know, for a soldier, it’s probably not super exhilarating stuff that we’re teaching but… I don’t know. I think it’s all pretty cool once you understand the importance of the material? Maybe I’m just a giant dork, but…”

“Well…” Howzer started as her thoughts trailed away. “You said it, not me...”

“Oh ha ha ha,” June feigned with a roll of her eyes, though a smirk peeled across her lips.

The feeling of his amber-eyed, surveying gaze back atop her features forced her eyes back to the lid on her cup, bringing a cold finger to trail thoughtlessly around the rim of that white duraplas.

“I know it’s easier said than done, but try not to take it too personally,” Howzer continued after a moment’s pause. “That’s a bit of a weird age for troopers, to be honest. This is their first time off Kamino. They’re used to being barked at round the clock by ARC Troopers who wouldn’t recognize ‘consideration’ if it bit them on the ass. All these guys know is having their critical thinking tested every minute of every day, learning respect, and camaraderie, and strategy… all that kind of stuff. Now they’re sitting in a quiet classroom on a foreign planet, separated from everyone they grew up with, being taught combat medicine by civilians. It’s no excuse for, well… staring, but it’ll all be pretty foreign to those guys for a while.”

Gnawing mindlessly on her left thumbnail, June let his words wash over her, a peculiar sensation lurching deep in her gut that felt something-near …guilt.

“Hmm,” she hummed, pulling her finger from its clamp between her lips atop the cold realization that maybe… after all these weeks… she hadn’t been the only person uncomfortable in that classroom. “So it probably feels as awkward for them as it does for me?”

Howzer nodded, that infamously warm gaze thankfully lacking any semblance of judgment or critique as it landed back upon her. “Probably more so, considering almost all of them have probably never talked to a girl before. I know the ‘hot teacher’ comment bothered you but… they’re still learning.”

“Who said it bothered me?” June retorted, though the indignance of her demand diminished instantly upon seeing the deeply skeptical look he cast from across the table. Pursing her lips to repress a culpable grin, she hid behind her coffee cup and asked, “I was that obvious, eh?”

“June, your face speaks louder than your words ever could,” he snickered. “Those eyes could light someone on fire if they glared hard enough.”

June offered only a repressed snort, unable to offer him the titter he deserved whilst her insides churned amidst a simmering remorse that she hadn’t expected to feel for that century of once-disrespectful soldiers. “Kriff, now I feel like an asshole,” she mumbled.

“Nah, don’t sweat it,” Howzer replied with an appeasing smile. “They’re tough. And if they’re not yet, they will be soon. But—” Abruptly plagued by an unprecedented wash of what appeared to be diffidence, he paused to clear his throat and redirect his gaze to a blemish on the crown of his helmet. “—If you want them to stop staring, I’d maybe ditch the glasses.”

“What?” June asked, upper lip cocking in confusion. “Why?”

“Don’t get me wrong,” he started, eyes following his fingers as they began to absently drum atop that worn wooden table. “They’re nice. Um, really nice. Almost distracting… I guess?”

The profound reddening of his ears nowhere matched that of her cheeks. Skin prickling as uncomfortably as if the beaming sun beyond that tinkling doorbell had managed to scorch both her shoulders and every inch of her face, she instantly lifted her hand again to subconsciously hide behind that emerald green cup.

“Caf’s up!”

That stentorian call thankfully spared June the need to respond, and they stood from those rickety wooden chairs as if the seats had suddenly burned white hot below their butts. As Howzer scooped his helmet from the table and tucked it neatly neath his arm, June collected the travel tray and followed him back toward the counter.

The twelve regular cups of caf had been smartly divided into trays of four like their decaffeinated counterparts, but with one of June’s hands occupied by her own cup, and Howzer’s helmet plaguing the mobility of his right arm, it quickly became little more than a game of tetris attempting to figure out exactly how the only two remaining limbs were going to successfully cargo sixteen steaming cups of caf for the four-block journey back to Base.

After several precarious and time-consuming attempts at stacking them on top of each other, and much to the mixed amused annoyance of the still bustling queue behind them, June heaved a sigh. “Can you just put that damn helmet on,” she bossed at Howzer atop an exasperated chuckle. “We need your second arm.”

“No,” Howzer refuted instantly. “I won’t be able to see you properly. And I don’t like having it on if I don’t have to...”

“You don’t need to see me, you just need to see where you’re walki—”

“But I want t—”

“‘Kay fine,” she interjected, rolling her eyes and putting her cup of caf down on the counter. “If you balance them on my arm, I can take two trays in one hand and my cup in the other.” Though he cocked an eyebrow at her in a motion of unadulterated doubt, she dismissed his silent concern with an impatient shake of the head. “It’s okay, I used to be a server.”

Atop the rapidly growing pressure of agitation behind them, June insisted. “I’ll be fine, just do it before someone tries to take out my other kneecap.”

Looking as though he thoroughly disagreed with this seemingly impulsive plan, Howzer carefully lowered one tray on top of the other on June’s awaiting right wrist, hands lingering only inches from that teetering tower, poised to resume the weight should she let slip even a whimper of discomfort.

Though it prickled against her sunburnt chest, letting those heavy trays tip backward against her skin diminished some of their burden, and she quickly offered him a nod of approval before collecting her own cup and stepping back from the counter. Once Howzer had balanced his own allotted pair of travel trays, they carefully made for the door.

“You were going to send a cadet to do this?” June snorted as they traversed that sunlit path back to Base, heart seizing for the fourth time in as many minutes as her dribbling freight gave a perilous wobble in her arms and threatened to douse her lower half in scalding hot caf.

“Absolutely,” he laughed. “It’s a great character building exercise.”

“Character building?!” she repeated, utterly aghast. “Pffffft! Seems kinda mean if you ask me, but if that’s what lets you sleep at night.”

“Says the girl who slept in this morning,” he snarked back at her, turning to give her a smirk so dazzling, the discomfort of that hot and heavy cargo momentarily vanished.

“You know what,” June argued neath a chuckle, “I think I deserve a little credit for not sleeping in every kriffing morning. Not only do my shifts never end on time, but my bed is soft, and big, and warm, and a challenge to get out of on any given day…”

“Sounds like a place I’d like to be,” Howzer chortled, turning to grant a fellow trooper in a suit of white and orange a casual nod as they passed each other along that path.

Howzer clearly thought nothing of it, continuing toward their destination unaffected by that off-the-cuff remark, and wholly unaware of the way June’s shoulders had slumped near-theatrically in its wake. Yet, June’s stomach fell with speed thrice that of which they walked, disappointment wiping the lingering remnants of that diminishing amusement from her lips whilst the darkest corner of her mind eagerly raised a red flag and flapped it earnestly across her awareness.

‘So that’s what he wants,’ she concluded, the hubris of her distaste for men instantly usurping the unfamiliar giddiness that had seen her near-intoxicated by his presence for days… weeks. ‘To visit to my bed.’

And the sudden and complete banishment of that teased sense of adventure— that fleeting feeling of ‘maybe I was wrong’ or ‘maybe there are men I can tolerate…’ — had that once gloriously enriching Apple Java cascading down the back of her tongue like spoiled vinegar.

“Sorry—” she muttered after a contemptuous snort, dropping her gaze to her toes and watching that gum-embedded pathway lead them back to Base. “By formal invitation only.”

An impossibly urgent sense of relief surged through her veins as the first signs of that construction-laden building came into view across the road, the gargantuan glass doors they’d left through some time earlier glimmering in the oppressive midday sun as they approached that barbed gate, stopping only so Howzer could scan his wrist comm below the sensor and permit them access.

“June?”

It was only then she realized he’d been talking. Too lost in her own welling disappointment and simmering sense of regret, she’d thoughtlessly tuned out everything around her.

“Sorry, yeah?” she answered, squinting amidst the effort of finding that olive face.

“You still okay there?” Howzer repeated, gesturing with a nod to the cargo she’d, once again, entirely forgotten she was carrying.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she lied, knowing if she divulged the small river of scalding hot caf trickling from her wrist to her elbow, it would only further delay the end of this interaction.

“Okay. Gimme one quick sec,” Howzer requested of her, stopping as the gate closed behind them and shifting his own freight enough to bring his forearm to his mouth. “Spades… come in.”

“‘Sup, cap?” chirped a nearly identical voice through the static of that hidden communication system.

“Status on barracks?” Howzer asked.

“Barracks?” that voice repeated neath an incredulous laugh. “Uhhh… well, nine battalions have landed since last night so it’s safe to say ‘crowded’ is an appropriate word.”

“Duty or dismissed?”

“Unless uniform policy has changed and we’re allowed to loaft around in our underwear on duty, I’m going to guess dismissed. Why? Aren’t you supposed to be in the briefing anyway?”

“Meeting doesn’t start for a few minutes,” Howzer clarified, and I’ve, er… got some company. Thanks for the intel.”

June watched him glance somewhat apologetically in her direction before ending that somewhat cryptic conversation, eyes hardening slightly, as if her labeling her as such was mildly offensive.

‘Company?’ she scowled. ‘Barracks?’

“You trying to show off your bed, now?” June queried with a cocked brow, watching that sharp jaw tense whilst he chewed his lip, brown eyes narrowed in concentration as he silently deciphered some mental puzzle she wasn’t yet privy to

“No,” Howzer chuckled, a lop-sided smile returning quickly to those lips. “Trust me, it’s nothing to bat an eye at. Come on, we’ll go through the hangar.”

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Taglist: @sinfulsalutations @starrylothcat @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @secondaryrealm @dystopicjumpsuit @freesia-writes @sev-on-kamino @littlemissmanga @523rdrebel @wings-and-beskar @drafthorsemath @jediknightjana @starstofillmydream @mooncommlink @wizardofrozz @trixie2023 @clonethirstingisreal @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @mythical-illustrator @arctrooper69 @somewhere-on-kamino @sverdgeir @heidnspeak

#The Only Exception #OC: June Kiore #Captain Howzer x fem!OC #fem!OC x Captain Howzer #Howzer x fem!OC #fem!Oc x Howzer #please heed warnings

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world-of-warhammer · 1 month ago

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This post is the beginning of my quick (layperson's understanding) explanation on the various factions, worldbuilding, and characters of the Warhammer Fantasy setting; commonly called 'The Old World.' I'll be doing these to help lay a groundwork or foundational set of knowledge as I understand it before I talk about what I would do differently, what the neat parts about the existing lore are, and anything else where knowing my base understanding may help or enlighten.

The first group I want to bring up are the Wood Elves or Asrai. The Wood Elves are a branch (hehe) of Elf that have splintered (hehe) off from the Elves of Ulthuan (to be covered more when discussing High Elves, Dark Elves, Chaos, and such) largely as a result of an ancient pact between Elves and forest spirits.

As I understand the lore, Forest spirits are similar enough to demons in The Old World but are bound or tied to woodlands. Places where travelers become lost forever amidst twisting pathways where time works differently. They are not necessarily as malicious as demons, but much like other spirits and similar entities; forest spirits are imbued with their own branches (hehe) of the winds of magic.

The Wood Elves came from Elven colonists who were settling in these woodlands long before anyone else lived in these places. Their bond with the forest angered some of the forest spirits, but they have been accepted and now live in harmony with the forest. This means they hunt, gather, only use fallen wood or their woodsinging for wood crafting, and upon death their bodies and spirits/souls are sent into the woods in a cycle of Life, Death, and rebirth.

I'll go more in depth on magic in the setting later, but for now I want to comment that they do definitely practice magic, have specific gods that they follow and generally (despite Total Warhammer's factions listed) really only live in the large forest of Athel Loren or the smaller forest of Laurelorn.

Wood Elves, as all Elves; are generally more resistant to the influences of Chaos than humans are. So, the manipulations of the forces of Chaos happen more subtly. In the Wood Elves, this is represented by isolationism and paranoia. The defense of their forests is their primary goal as a faction, and they rarely send forces out unless it is going to help the protection of their woodlands homes to some degree.

This has been my rambling treatise on Wood Elves from a basic level. As with most of what I know on Warhammer, it's derived from several fan wiki sites, forum discussions, video games, and the few novels I have read. If anything is super wrong or a gross oversimplification, feel free to message me or reblog and add to my knowledge.

#warhammer fantasy #Warhammer #The Old World #Wood Elves #Wood Elf #Asrai #The Basics-ish

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mariacallous · 3 months ago

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We are seeing a worrisome rise in mental distress among young people in the U.S., a trend that began in 2011. Various studies show that young people are now the country’s most unhappy demographic, with unprecedented increases in anxiety, depression, and suicide. In a recent ranking of happiness in countries around the world, American young people came in at 62, behind Bulgaria, Ecuador, and Honduras.

What explains this rise? The usual sources of blame are all too familiar: smart phones, pandemic precautions, and declining church attendance, among others. In addition, political polarization, toxic debates, and misinformation increasingly influence our civic discourse and discourage the young from participating in civic life. There is also a stigma against admitting emotional problems—particularly for males—and a shortage of affordable mental-health treatments when people do.

Yet the root causes for this crisis run deeper. They include rising education costs, uncertain employment prospects and declining wages, particularly for those without a college degree, and the absence of a sense of community in many places. In a recent Brookings paper economists Anne Case and Angus Deaton found that the life expectancy for the college educated in 2021 was eight-and-a-half years longer than for the two-thirds of American adults without a bachelor’s degree—more than triple the gap in 1992. Most of the jobs available to those without a B.A. do not offer health insurance, part of the explanation for the mortality gap. These trends result in losses in human welfare and productive potential. They also exacerbate the uncertainty many young people feel about their futures.

While there is no magic bullet for this crisis, most suggested policies focus on better regulation of social media, programs that support civic engagement among youth, and better mental health care access. But an important and underreported part of the solution is restoring hope. The crisis stems in significant part from a lack of hope that often is fueled by a sense that higher education—and the economic and life expectancy benefits it brings—is beyond reach of many. My research finds strong linkages between hope and better long-term outcomes in education, health, and mental well-being, with hope more important to better outcomes of those with limited access to post-high school education and mentorship.

My recent research on populations and places vulnerable to misinformation, for example, finds that they share two linked challenges: the lack of opportunities for higher or vocational education and community-wide despair (and related deaths), with young people lacking a pathway to a better future particularly vulnerable. Solutions on the education front not only require reducing costs and increasing access to post-high school education opportunities but mentorship that supports young adults seeking more education to achieve their aspirations and suggest pathways to the kinds of employment opportunities that can give them better future lives.

Jose Santana’s story is telling. In early 2022 he was thinking about dropping out of his Bronx high school. He simply did not see a purpose in going to college. That changed the summer after he participated in Youthful Savings, a New York and Santa Monica-based program that educates low-income students in middle and high schools about economics and entrepreneurship, mental well-being, and ethical business. After completing the program, he started his own business, helping young entrepreneurs better organize and utilize web and graphic design tools. Jose earned his high school diploma this June and plans to major in business at Andrews University in Michigan.

While Jose believes the skills that he learned were valuable, what most influenced him was the mentorship he received from the program’s founder, Somya Munjal, who is a champion of educating youth about financial literacy. She shared with Jose her own struggles to pay for college and business school and how that led to what she does to support low-income youth get ahead.

On the surface, Youthful Savings may not look like a way of alleviating the mental health crisis that is plaguing American youth. Yet the program is part of a proliferating trend that has the potential to bolster young people’s mental well-being while fostering their immediate goals of acquiring more education. Somya’s ability to expand Youthful Savings was supported by Civic Wellbeing Partners, an initiative which facilitates opportunities for the young and supports well-being in low-income populations.

Somya grew up in Chicago, the child of Indian immigrants. From the time Somya was in high school, influenced by her parents’ struggles, she worked 40 hours every week. Given her strong performance in school, her parents dreamed of her attending Harvard but lost their savings during the 2001 recession. She attended Northern Illinois University, majoring in accounting. She was frustrated with her studies until she found her passion in a class about the role of education as a change agent. In Jose’s words: “Hearing Somya’s story … inspired me to continue and stay in higher education.”

Macomb Community College (MCC) outside Detroit provides another example of how to support young people in school and train them for meaningful work. The college pairs every incoming student with a mentor, which ensures that even those who need help or counseling but are reluctant to ask for it get ready assistance. Its university hub—founded in 1991—hosts several Michigan universities offering courses on its campus, providing students a more affordable route for gaining credits towards their degrees. Roughly 65% of transfer students from Macomb, many of whom remain on the home campus to get their degrees from the partner schools, complete a bachelor’s degree.

The hub—the first of its kind—has since been replicated by several other community colleges around the country, such as Lorain (Ohio) and Temple College (Austin). While some modalities have changed due to the increase of online learning, an important focus continues to be streamlining the pathway from associate to bachelor-degree completion to eliminate waste of time and money.

Macomb County, traditionally a political hotbed, has a population that is divided by three very different populations: retired autoworkers, a historically discriminated African American Community, and an influx of new immigrants. The Legacy Project at MCC invests in the civic engagement of these communities as a source of learning, credible information, and reasoned discussion. Jim Jacobs, president emeritus and legacy founder, noted that “the real value added of community colleges is how well they can convince young people that their aspirations for a better a life can be obtained within their communities. It is not only more education—but the belief they can use their skills.”

Communities—and their colleges—are an important source of support for low-income populations and their youth, providing mentorship and employment opportunities, among other things. They also play an important role in stemming the tide of loneliness that is linked to mental illness, as the data from the U.K.’s Campaign to End Loneliness shows.

Dunya Kilano, the daughter of immigrants from Iraq, came to Macomb as a child and later attended the college: “College wasn’t something that felt like a clear pathway for me. I was the first in my family to go. My parents supported me although … they would have been OK if I decided to take over their business instead.” Transferring to Oakland University while still taking courses at Macomb made a four-year degree more affordable. Her college experience laid the groundwork for her career with Face Addiction Now (FAN), a community organization that provides resources, education programs, and hope to those recovering from substance use disorder. “Education …[was] helpful but the connections I made are what led me to the work I do … An advisor suggested I take a social work class; I ended up becoming president of the Social Work Club and received a leadership award. Social work was my calling.”

Another example, focused on middle and high school youth, is the BeeWell initiative in schools and communities in the U.K.’s greater Manchester District. BeeWell introduces skills such as self-esteem, adaptability, and strategies to combat loneliness into school curriculums. It has yielded significant positive effects on both the mental well-being and academic performance of the students.

The combined emphasis on individuals and communities is key to the success of these initiatives. Macomb’s focus on civic engagement helps break down barriers separating the county’s diverse populations and enhances the chance that newly educated youth will live and work there. And communities are becoming a critical part of efforts to address the mental health crisis, as the traditional individual doctor-patient model is unable to keep up with the increasing demand for services.

Reversing the decline in youth mental health and addressing the uncertainties they face are daunting challenges. While we cannot immediately resolve them, providing youth with the skills they need to navigate them is an important step forward. By helping young people gain agency, skills, and connections through education—critical links to better outcomes—these efforts show that restoring hope and improving mental health is not just a pipe dream.

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