#or even really to focus on the supplemental part after

[thefriendlyferretwriter]

Weasel

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Ravenclaw!F!Reader

Summary: A back and forth with the infamous Fred Weasley sends the two nemeses into a back-and-forth that lands them in detention, where both their frustration and anger send them into a deep argument full of insults, tension, and revelations.

Warning: LONG, 8k words, lots of scene cuts becuz a LOT happens, rivals to lovers (not really, Fred's obsessed with reader and is a little shit), boy pulls on the pigtails of the girl he claims he dislike type trope, was forced to give reader at least a last name, same for her best friend ( went with one of the most generic name Tiffany), Fred being a little shit, argument, tension, reader is unhinged

A/N: Fun fact about this fic it almost included a Pygmy Puff before I checked and discovered that they were created by the twins for their shop and since they are still students I had to go and swap it up with a baby puffskein. No idea how to describe that fic, there will definitely be multiple parts, enjoy!

There are no other places like Hogwarts.

The scenery, the castle's secrets, and the yearly competition between houses are something to behold.

But what might be icing on the cake is the library. The place where I can lose track of time all the while learning about the magical world.

The library has a hush rule but you can't help the coughs, the few ink pots falling to the ground, or even the giggles here and there but it doesn't bother me one bit, it even helps me focus as I enjoy yet one more day in the castle.

"Hi there Raven."

And there goes my enjoyment.

With a roll of my eye, I direct them toward the annoying voice belonging to none other than Fred Weasley who stands there with his satchel on his side leaning against one of the book-filled shelves.

"Weasel," I acknowledge him with a sigh looking back down at my page.

"Weasley," he corrects drily.

I brush him off as I finish my inked sentence and wait for it to dry before turning the page and asking him what he's doing here.

He leans on the table by his hip and crosses his arms inclining his head towards me, "What is it to you?"

"You being here is a bad omen so either you're here to sell your stupid stuff to the first years," I say glancing at his sachel for a second before looking back down at my work, "Or it involves annoying me and I'm having a good day to waste it dealing with you today."

I don't look at him and instead focus on my next sentence when I hear some shuffling and a piece of rolled-up parchment drops next to me that I recognize all too well.

"You must be kidding me," I groan snatching the parchment from the table.

"Unfortunately no. McGonagall benched me and said that if I wanted to stay on the quidditch team I needed a tutor."

His speech makes me groan as the lines reiterate his rant in a distinguished manner and is signed at the bottom by Professor Flitwick.

"McGonagall sent me to Flitwick who recommended you. Said you needed tutoring on your record."

I let go of the paper and join my hands together placing my thumbs on the base of my nose to try and diminish the incoming headache.

"Soo," he draws out attracting my gaze, "See you later, I'll be waiting for your owl."

I see him walking backward, all cocky as he dares to wink at me before turning around and descending the spiral stairs.

I audibly scoff and slam my notebook closed.

Yet another day ruined by that damn Weasel.

"He's a pest."

"You're exaggerating again," she laughs at me standing up from her seat.

"No, I'm not!" I say shoving the last book in my bag as class just ended, "He's obnoxious and annoying and a nuisance to my peace," I stand up and follow right after her.

It's been a few days since my unfortunate meeting with the least likable Weasley in the library and the meeting with Professor Flitwick and McGonagall this early morning couldn't have gotten any worse since no amount of pleading on my part could get them not to assign me with him. As a supplement I had the redhead walk in on me pleading which had him reveling at my misery digging me into a deeper foul mood.

"He's a funny guy that sometimes goes too far," she says pushing a chair that wasn't tucked under its assigned table.

"He's the bane of my existence," I say full of venom.

She laughs walking toward the classroom's exit," That's romantic."

"No, saying someone is the bane of your existence isn't romantic."

"I'm sure you could turn it into something romantic, like a poem or a book about forbidden love," she daydream walking through the door.

"You read too many romance books," I say stepping outside the classroom when I freeze and feel like I'm going underwater as my body is iced out for a moment.

It feels as if I've been hit with glacius but I'm able to use my voice and squeal in shock as the feeling subsides and I'm brought back from my shock by two giggles.

I see two first-year Gryffindors laughing nervously before they simultaneously decide to run away, one of them letting loose on her wand that was levitating the bucket letting it fall on the ground with a loud clash.

I'm left in the middle of the open hallway surrounded by classmates who just exited their class.

The wind hits me and I feel my body shiver before I look up at my friend whose mouth is covered by her hands in surprise.

I hear it.

The annoying infuriating sound of distant laughter, one I cannot mistake for another.

My eyes zero on him sitting on the transfiguration courtyard's tree clutching his stomach as he laughs balancing himself on the branch.

"You were saying?" I ask her rhetorically still dripping in the pink-colored jelly-like liquid.

She lowers her hands and approaches me slowly trying to wipe my face.

I feel the bubbling of rage making its way up my throat with my breathing taking up seeing him seated up there on the branch looking like a king sitting upon the throne of his buffoonery surrounded by his brainless friends, or rather, George's brainless friends and it makes me snap.

I push her hand away and stomp my way through the hallway onto the courtyard's grass toward him.

"Weasley!" I yell as I march to him.

"Oh, now she remembers my name," he laughs out loud for his twin and his friends to hear as the number of students stopping by increases.

He slides off the branch with ease and starts strutting to me with this damn cocky smile.

George stands up from his leaning stance on the tree, "Fred," he says.

I don't know if it's a warning or a scolding but his intent doesn't matter to me.

My hearing is replaced with the beats of my heart drumming in my ears as my face feels as hot as lava.

My steps get bigger and bigger and the closer his infuriating smirk approaches, the rage escapes me as my hand swings back and closes into a fist before landing in his face mid-step.

The audible hit is met with a groan and while I'm far too small to send him to the ground with a punch it does send him swaying back and hunching over.

In a second George jogs to his twin and hands him support grabbing his elbow as Fred's groan turns into another one of his annoying chuckles.

"You see how she hit me?!" he shouts looking delighted by the situation before he lays his gaze back on me with a bit of blood on his teeth.

His smirk falls and I believe for a moment that I finally did it, I finally managed to instate fear in this jackass before I realize his gaze moved from my frame to someone behind me.

The buzzing in my ears ceases and my hearing comes back to me as the grass crunches under one's weight indicating someone approaching.

A cold sweat travels through my body when I turn around and spot none other than Professor Hooch standing tall in front of us.

By instinct, I take a step back and bump into Fred before jumping aside as if he burnt me which isn't far off as my knuckles are calling out for help burning and tingling from the impact it had on his cheek.

She sends us both one of her infamous hawk looks that could petrify Dumbledor himself, "I presume that display of violence can be explained by your appearance?" her pointed look is directed at me.

I try to wipe the substance off my hair with an annoyed huff.

Her eyes travel to Fred whose head is pointed down grabbing his chin and messing with his mouth moving his jaw from side to side.

"That rewards the both of you with an hour's detention," that answer makes him groan and I point at him with outrage.

"But he-!" My disbelief doesn't reach her before she cuts me off.

"You're both dismissed. Mr.Weasley, I advise you to escort your brother to the infirmary to tend to his injury. As for you, I advise you to go clean yourself up before heading to the infirmary as well, perhaps at a time Mr.Weasley won't be there," she finishes her sentence looking at George who acknowledges her insinuation with a nod.

Still clutching his jaw, Fred is led away by his elbow by George as Hooch walks to stand in front of me, "While I understand your frustration I did expect better from you than violence."

My eyes widen and the breath I take in is cut off, "He-"

"This isn't about Mr.Weasley's childish behavior, he will receive his punishment either way. What disappoints me is that you could've avoided any punishment by reporting this to me or any other professor in the area but instead, you will ecope of an hour's detention as well."

She says shaking her head as she walks away leaving me standing here in the courtyard covered in the substance and an aching fist that doesn't even feel satisfying knowing it didn't teach the jerk anything.

"Why is it so windy today?! I thought it was supposed to be sunny!" I complain trying to be louder than the wind.

"No it's supposed to switch all day, look," my friend says motioning to the daily prophet in her hands bringing the paper closer to my face so I can see the weather section indeed announcing an insufferable change of weather all day.

"You can still spot the puddles from the rain earlier," Luna Lovegood points to the Quidditch pitch where the grass is still two shades darker and the random puddles of water stir with strength from the wind blowing.

My venting is interrupted by a loud collision that sends me twisting around back to the pitch to see Gryffindor and Ravenclaw teammates fighting over the quaffle like rabid dogs in what is supposed to be an amicable match as a form of training.

"Remind me again what's the point of an amicable match if there is no amicability?" I ask turning to face them just to miss the apparent goal from a Gryffindor through one of the Ravenclaw's lowest hoops.

I groan when I recognize the face of the person who managed to pass our defenses as he basks in the small victory.

"What is it raven?! Can't take in the sigh of greatness?!" he gloats seated comfortably on his broom with his red hair all tussled.

His pretentiousness blinds him and his arrogance leaves him to ignore the whistle suggesting the match continues and leaves a fellow Ravenclaw to score in a flash right behind him. The only indicator that anything happened at all is the small thunder of applause and shouts of approval coming from the small gathering of students who decided to kill time and participate in the amicable match to cheer each team on.

His head whips around and the sight of the opposite team scoring sends him tilting his head back with a groan that he tries to conceal but it doesn't escape anyone's notice.

The karma is enough but it is so rare to catch the weasel in one of his life life-learning moments that I don't hesitate before deciding that I need to add my little grain of salt to the wound.

I have it, I have the perfect response to give him right on the tip of my tongue and I wonder for a second if the smirk grazing my lips isn't a giveaway but my witty taunt is stopped when a broom enters my line of vision.

"See?! I told you your presence would do me good. Look at that, bullseye!"

I'm sure he means no harm, I know him to be humble but the poor lad either didn't see Weasley or simply decided to ignore his presence.

The fact that he is being ignored after being wrecked is sickly satisfying and my smirk manages to widen somehow.

It is clear he simply didn't see Fred as this one's scowl sends him silently flying away in an awkward, one-sided staredown that ends with him glancing at me with an uncomfortable wide-eyed stare, silently asking for help.

I stare at him flying further and further away and only look back when I notice George approaching his twin on his broom.

His frustration is clear and the eye roll along with his head thrown back pleases me a great deal.

The devilish idea is too good and it doesn't take a lot of self-convincing before I fall for temptation.

"What is it Weasel, too busy drowning in your own ego you can't pay attention?!" I shout so my sickly honeyed voice reaches him and George as I tuck my now pastel pink hair behind my ears.

'The concoction should last less than a week. This Flemont Potter was a genius!' nurse Pomfrey said.

The scowl adorning his face fills me with warmth and electricity buzzes through my veins knowing I have the last word for once.

"Nice hair," he tries himself at a desperate dig that does not work as Professor Hooch whistles for him to fly back to the match.

Turning his back to me, he flies back to the center of the field I can't help but laugh realizing that it's the first time he turns his back to me without walking away with the last word.

The whistle is blown and the speed at which each team goes at the other's throat could cause whiplash if one wasn't used to it.

I'm focused on a group of players when my peripheral vision drags my eyes to my friend throwing the quaffle with all his strength leaving another small group of three players to speed away.

Taking a moment to take in his throw he looks back down and waves at me with a smile, satisfied with his play.

I wave back with a grin of my own before he disappears out of my sight as a bludger hits him straight in the back of the head with a resounding thunk throwing him off his broom and crashing to the ground.

I hear a loud yell and realize it comes from me as my body instinctively reacts and bolts toward the pitch.

Professor Hooch is already by his side by the time I run to his limp self.

"Is he okay?!" I get caught off guard by my friend reaching him and kneeling at his side before I do.

I stand there looking down at him in shock as people start surrounding the area trying to take a look at the wounded on the ground when I notice the Gryffindor team lowering themselves on the ground including the culprit.

His quidditch robe swings with each one of his steps as he walks towards the commotion very slowly like in a trance.

"You too bring a stretcher," she says shooing away both a Gryffindor and a Ravenclaw player.

I hear George Weasley calling after his brother who has now reached Professor Hooch kneeling on the ground

"Is he okay?"

How dare he. His filthy meek voice asking about his well-being as if he isn't the reason my friend is lying unresponsive on the ground.

That familiar boiling sensation in my chest rises again and I feel my fists clenching by themselves.

Before I can comprehend my thought process I am bolting toward him. Still, before I can reach him George jumps in front of him getting ready for whatever, a whatever that does not come as I am held up by the waist by two Gryffindor players sensing the hostility.

"What is wrong with you!" I holler up in the air struggling with all my might against the hold of the chasers which is useless against the player's strength.

The rest is a blur, George pushes the douche towards the locker room as I follow the stretcher closely to the infirmary.

"If you stare any harder you're gonna be the first third year student here to achieve wandless magic," she chuckles "It's you! You did this!" he yells shoving me back and sending me stumbling on the ground probably trying to get me as dirty as he is. back down at her textbook.

"False," I utter not leaving the weasel out of my burning stare.

I notice her raising her head from my side view in wonder.

"Granger," I state chewing on my thumb's fingernail.

The sight of him simply sitting there without any consequences under the excuse of 'it's part of the game, nobody can prove there were any malicious intents behind that strike' drives me mad and haunts my head with multiple scenarios of murder that keep replaying again and again.

"You have to let it go. Pomfresh said he'll be fine."

"He didn't deserve that strike it was targeted to piss me off because I got the last word," I say wincing when I realize I bit my thumb a bit too hard and drew some blood.

"It's part of Quidditch, many, many people took strikes to the head."

"Bullshit. A strike to the head during an amicable match? Come on," I roll my eyes frustrated that everybody seems so eager to just brush this incident off.

"I'm gonna start thinking you're checking him out and not actually glaring at him."

"Have you lost your mind?!" I say louder than intended, my head whipping left to glare at her this time.

There is no silence as the Care for the Magical Creature class takes place outside and the lack of chatter is covered up by the sound of wind rustling the nearest tree's leaves and the distant purrs and grumbles of the different creatures in their pen.

"Is there a problem?"

Unlike McGonagall or Snape, Professor Hagrid's tone of voice isn't accusatory but genuinely one of concern. This concern eats at me as the idea that he might believe even for a moment that my words are targeted towards him makes bile rise in my throat.

"No!" is my immediate response to reassure the professor but the rest of my explanation seems to be stuck in my throat as I have a hard time imagining myself explaining to the class that I was just defending myself at the mention of me hypothetically checking Weasley out.

That same person here in the open classroom with a side smirk plastered on his annoying face trying his best not to laugh at me, not because it would be rude but because not laughing at the right time alongside the rest of the class wouldn't be as satisfying as a full-on public humiliation.

I see Hagrid lowering his chalk and I can already foresight him asking what he might have done wrong which is not something you want to ask as a teacher in front of a bunch of ruthless teenagers.

His other hand joins in on the other starting to mess with his chalk making him appear anxious and way less mighty.

The awkwardness doesn't begin to measure to the remorse of having put him in this situation because of my impulsive nature.

"It's my fault!" my friend shouts in my defense.

Looking at her, Tiffany managed to snatch up a baby puffskein and hold it up to Hagrid's sight.

"I put him in her hair and she was afraid he would do a pooh."

The laughs are inevitable but I'm certain the 'do a pooh' will haunt my nightmare.

The mocking is a harmony of taunting and I can only look beside me to glare at her sitting there with the puffskein in hand as I wish he would just 'do a pooh' in her hands this instant.

At least Professor Hagrid seems reassured, smiles as the misunderstanding is cleared up, and turns back around to continue the lesson.

We're sent to different enclosures containing different creatures and are instructed to feed them to create a bond.

"Look at him acting casual as if he didn't send someone to the infirmary with a trauma to the head," I say full of venom seeing him being buddy-buddy with another Gryffindor girl as they try to feed Mooncalf in the open and have a laugh as they are surrounded by the eager herd starving for pets and seeds.

"Will you quit it and enjoy one of the only course that's relaxing here," she scolds kneeling closer to the ground to feed a diricawl who nibs at her finger affectionately before walking past her hand and pitter-pattering to her to lay his head on her chest to receive pats on his head.

"Plus you've already been told we can't know if the blow was on purpose."

"That's a load of bullshit and you know it, he's one of the best beaters here," I say with a pointed look at her throwing a violent handful of seeds towards the rest of the diricawls.

"Did I just hear you compliment Fred Weasley?" she says looking up at me with a teasing smile.

"It's not a compliment I'm just stating a fact, the probability of Weasley hitting someone right on the head by accident at such distance is close to none," I say throwing another handful as my eyes catch a paddock with dubogs in it, one in particular who is devouring the weasel with his bulgy eyes.

There are three dubogs in the small paddock and two of them are cooling off in the dirty pond uninterested in anything else but sunbathing with only their eyes above the murky water blinking one at a time as the third one is eating up Weasley with his eyes.

A devilish idea makes its way into my head. The opening I get is served to me on a gold platter as Tiffany is distracted by the herd of diricawl overtaking her landing her on the ground, surrounded.

My chance is heightened by Weasley's back turned to me talking with his little girlfriend.

I take my chance disregarding any rational thought invading my head. Sneakily climbing over the fence, I crouch and walk toward the desired enclosure. The creature doesn't seem to sense me approaching and if he does he doesn't seem to care one bit licking his eye and pawing the ground with his hind leg.

A part of me wishes I could egg him on and ask him if he wants to nibble on the Weasel's ankles but I'd rather not throw my plan out of the window. Instead, I carefully slide my arm to the latch and pull on it slowly to make sure not to make any noise before giving the door a small push to create the crack that seems to be enough to throw the creature out for a jog as he crashes against the paddock's door.

I don't get to see the seconds before the disaster as I have to hurry back and jump over the fence once again, running back to my friend and free her from the diricawl's clutches giving her a hand and raising her back up as the show starts.

The screams that grace my ears aren't from fear but more from shock as the tall redhead lands on the ground when I finally get to lay my eyes on him. The dubog licks him from bottom to top with the creature's natural dirt and slimey skin rubbing off on him as his Gryffindor girlfriend screeches for help calling for Professor Hagrid who runs up to help in a flash.

The man's height isn't only impressive and intimidating but also a great advantage to grab the massive creature off and drag it back to its enclosure where the other two are still sunk in the water, sunbathing and behaving.

Once shut close, Professor Hagrid grips the wooden bars of the enclosure to gather himself before turning around and helping Weasley up with just one hand gripping the back of his blouse. While he seems shaken up by the encounter, he tries to rub off some of the mud on his face but only manages to smear it looking around at the rest of us.

The reactions vary, some are as shocked as he is and others shrug off their worries and are now laughing at his appearance now that they've established that he is healthy and no longer in danger.

I myself giggle knowing that while I can't get him punished for his action back on the pitch, I get to watch him look like a fool and even up the score. My friend does not agree and lets me know by elbowing me in the ribs making me groan mixing laughter and painful grunts.

Laughter that is spotted by the redhead when his head whips to me before his eyes light up.

His eyes shift from eureka to burning hatred. Shrugging off the hand of his friend trying to tidy him up and storms in my direction.

"It's you! You did this!" he yells shoving me back and sending me stumbling on the ground probably trying to get me as dirty as he is. The confrontation is cut short when Hagrid once again showcases his immeasurable strength by yanking the weasel back with a tug on his now mostly white blouse and throwing him behind his eleven-foot frame that stands now right in front of me.

"Enough with the both of you!" his voice booms in the open area.

He takes a step back and I can get a peak at the redhead enough to see him huffing and puffing from being thrown around like a doll.

"This is a classroom, not a pub. Now the both of you will walk all the way up to Professor McGonagall's office and explain exactly why I had to send the both of you to her and she will be the one to give you your punishment!"

I look at him now, hair disheveled and his tie undone covered in dirt and mud and slime. He still looks somewhat decent as he pushes his hair back with a huff.

I must look just as messy with my pink hair having been thrown on the ground and I decide to tug at the end of my own blouse trying to tidy myself up and avoid any more wrinkles on it.

"Miss Granger, please accompany those two, you know what to do if they misbehave."

"She tried to kill me!" Fred yells pointing at me.

"Do you have any proof, Mr.Weasley?"

He seems to hesitate for less than a second before motioning to me with his hand in frustration.

"It's logical thinking, she hates my gut and she's crazy!"

"You jerk-!" I bellow throwing myself in his direction before I'm engulfed in the Professor's arms.

"Enough!" He yells once more letting me go only when I stop fidgeting in his hold.

"There is no way of proving the Miss did anything. This paddock's lock has been faulty for a while and after this incident, I will personally see that it is dealt with."

He says as if he was addressing the whole class who is still standing all around us watching the event unfold.

"As for the both of you, you will do as you're told and let Miss.Granger accompany the both of you back to the castle and receive the punishment the both of you deserve for the waste of both my time and your classmates' time."

The tone is harsh and the decision is final.

"I am very disappointed in the both of you. You're worth so much more than this petty rivalry," the man shakes his head walking away.

Those words seem to have the same result on both of us. We look down a bit ashamed before we are ushered away by Hermione as we start the long and silent journey back to the castle.

We both stand in silence, side by side with yet a respectable distance as the two professors stand in front of us with judgmental stares that don't need any words to transcribe their distaste…or is it disappointment?

We were sent to our respective bathrooms to clean up 'as best as you can' while my request to wash off completely was denied by both teachers and so here I stand with the back of my blouse tainted by dirt as Weasley could barely wash the slimy texture out of his own blouse and barely dry it with what I believe might have been a spell.

And so here he stands looking dirtier than me despite the order to clean up.

"Now that the awful stench has been managed I believe a proper punishment is in order," McGonagall says with her hands joined in front of her.

"I agree, my cauldrons are in dire need of a scrub," Snape says with his usual disinterested tone.

Weasley starts protesting and claims that I should receive a harsher punishment for my so-called actions.

"She tried to kill me!" he protests.

"And as I told you Mr.Weasley there is no way for us to possibly prove this claim as Professor Hagrid did not see any of this unravel."

"Just like no one saw you throw that bulger." I bite under my breath.

"Exactly Miss.Hermlock. And I would suggest you speak with your full chest if you have any objection." Mc.Gonagall drily berates me.

"Snape-Professor Snape," he quickly corrects himself, "said multiple times that in such cases veritaserum should be used, and since she's SO confident saying she didn't do anything she won't mind doing this, won't she," he says towering over my side.

"I've always known you were a moron but I never thought you would outdo yourself in front of teachers," I smirk crossing my arms.

"Mr.Weasley, even with Miss.Hermlock's permission, the usage of such beverage on a student is forbidden. I would've hoped that with a father working for the ministry, you out of all of us would remember that."

My smirk doubles in size which I thought would never be possible.

In the end, my smirk is wiped away when we are both awarded two hours of detention with Snape. And as if it wasn't enough the punishment is cleaning the endless potion class's cauldrons.

We're ordered to go clean up, thoroughly this time and go for lunch before being expected in the dungeons for our detention hours.

We arrive at the same time just as the last student exits the class, we are left standing side by side, or more precisely 3 feet away from each other as we walk in right in front of Snape's office where he is seated with his head down to his paper purposely stalling and letting us stand there in awkward silence.

What must've been minutes feel like hours as I try my best not to side-eye the redhead standing silently beside me.

I wonder if I should've refrained from opening that damn pen when I hear those continuous scraping of pen meant to insult us as the dark-haired teacher ignore our presence.

He finally puts his feather back in its inkwell before he stands resting both his hands on his desk, "I believe I don't have to remind you what you need to do during those two hours of detention."

Neither of us answers and that seems to egg him on to stand straight and walk around his desk to stand right in front of us, his hands placed behind him.

"You two will clean every single cauldron here, I made sure none of my classes cleaned their equipment to make sure the lesson will stick and you won't have to keep me company again on such a fine day," he says bending to my height and looking straight into my eyes for just a moment before moving his sight onto Weasley, "At least one of you will learn."

Standing back up his speech is interrupted by strong stomps getting closer.

Turning around, the three of us look towards the class's entrance as we spot for a single second a figure sliding across the entrance and disappearing with a loud thud that sounds painful.

It is the first time I make eye contact with the weasel since the last time we butted heads and it is to share a sour scrunched-up expression for the victim of the fall who we hear grunting in the hallway before the sound of their footsteps echoes once more and we see the face of the one who rushed here most likely to speak to Snape.

He's bent over leaning on the door out of breath.

"Berkshire, if you're done fooling around you may grace us with an explanation as to why you're disturbing this detention."

Still out of breath, Enzo Berkshire huffs and puffs for a few more seconds before settling down still bent over.

"It's Nott," he exhales deeply before breathing in once more, "He and Wood started a brawl between quidditch teams, Hooch told me to come get you."

Turning back to the teacher, his eye roll is noticeable and his silence is an obvious assessment of the situation as he probably is planning what to do now that he is torn between us two and the alleged brawl.

"Alright, As the head teacher of house Slytherin, I will accompany Berkshire and assist Professor Hooch in this conflict."

He points to us, "As for the two of you. You will stay here and complete your detention without any complaints. If you leave before your time is up, I will know and that will reward you an entire week of detention."

Pointing at Berkshire, Snape walks past us and orders him to lead them away and with a flick of his wand makes it known that it is thanks to that maneuver that he'll know of us potentially leaving the classroom.

"Behave." is all he says before walking right behind a speeding Enzo Berkshire.

I wonder if he was referring to the both of us or maybe just Weasley.

I don't get to ponder on that before my thoughts are drawn elsewhere at the realization that my worst nightmare is unfolding before me, I am now stuck with the most insufferable student here for two hours doing the most aggravating task besides cleaning the house bathrooms.

I only get back to reality when I hear him throw his robe and satchel on a nearby station.

Being left alone with him, the task at hand, and the absence of Snape to muzzle the redhead angers me as I frop my own bag and stomp to one of the sinks filled to the brim with dirty cauldrons.

I don't even get to enjoy a full minute of tense peace as the douchebag starts his usual yapping.

"Can't say I'm surprised he would leave me alone with you, Snape has always hated me and it's no wonder he left me with you considering you tried to kill me," he mouths off as always lifting a cauldron from its stove and piling it on top of another one.

"And yet you're still breathing, what a shame." I roll my eyes as well as my sleeves picking up a scraper.

A moment of silence passes and I pray this is the moment he realizes he needs to shut up so we can endure the rest of this detention in mild peace but alas this is a good idea and everyone knows that Frederick Weasley never had one of those in his life.

"Damn. The sorting hat must've made a mistake, maybe you belong with the other psychopaths in Slytherin." He throws both cauldrons beside the filled sink with a loud clang.

"I'm sorry but I'm not the one cladding the scales." I bite back.

"Oh, she has claws," he draws out loudly, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

"What is wrong with you?" I ask genuinely turning around to face him.

"No, the question is what is wrong with you," He asks back louder.

"Nothing is wrong with me! You're the one who can't figure out when to stop, you're the one who always goes too far and you're the one who went too far once again, so much so that you ended up sending my friend to the infirmary!" I hurl and see him losing that fire that usually overtakes his pupils showing he enjoys egging on people once they are set off.

"It's the risk when you play Quidditch," he tries and fails to sound firm in his statement making me scoff.

"For Rowena's sake, you're still acting as if you didn't purposely throw that bulger at him!" I say running my hands through my hair in frustration.

"I didn't!" he says even less believable.

Done with his excuses I turn back around to give all my attention back to the dirty cauldrons when he manages to slide between me and the sink making me take a huge step back.

"I didn't mean to throw it that hard."

I stare at him, no, I glare at him feeling the urge to punch him again but I remember that it didn't do anything for me the last time and instead opt to let out my frustration by hollering at him and walking away before I make the mistake of punching him and have a Professor magically appear out of nowhere to give me more detention again.

Even when I think I finally win and have him admit to his wrongs he still finds a way to make excuses for himself.

"What were you expecting?! I'm a beater that's what we do!"

Does he really think I don't know what a bloody beater is?!

Is he trying to make me pass off as an emotional wreck because of my appropriate reaction to such injury during a supposed amicable match?!

Any beater whether amateur or professional could agree that either maliciously or not that throw was unwarranted during training.

"There really is something wrong with you," I walk right in front of him, toe to toe, and spite my statement right in his face pushing him aside to gain back access to the sink.

I start scrubbing as my mind throws all the different reasons I despise the fucker. Irresponsible, unfunny, no compassion.

I'm so lost in my spiteful analysis of him that I don't register that my thoughts aren't my own anymore as I unconsciously start rambling out loud.

"An idiot who doesn't even think before taking people down with him," I grumble scrubbing away.

"Come on now it's not like he's dead," He nips throwing down yet another pile of small cauldrons beside me.

"I'm talking about me!" I yell letting go of my current task and letting the pot fall and clang with another one causing a ruckus in the sink.

"Not only is my friend in the infirmary because of you but I'm also stuck with you trying to teach someone who I learned has never been slacking in muggle history before recently."

His jaw slacks open and his eyes double in size like the breakfast sausages I had this morning.

"Wait a minute. You think I'm doing this on purpose?!"

You do everything on purpose! Your dad works for the ministry, he is a Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office employee dammit! If anyone is an expert at muggle stuff it's your dad!" I say as a matter of fact.

"And tell me exactly what would it bring me to purposely be bad at this subject all of a sudden?"

"Oh I don't know, maybe to annoy me more often than usual." it sounds like a question but I know I'm just clarifying the situation.

"You think I'm gonna waste my days stuck with you in the library acting dumb for fun?" he tries to ask sarcastically.

"And why not? Beside the library part isn't that what you do all day anyways?"

The quick wit seems like it struck him as he scoffs with a broad smile.

"If you want to be a failure for the rest of your life go ahead and be my guest but I'll ask you not to take me down with you."

That same disbelief smile disappears and leaves place for a blank look that doesn't often grace his face.

"Unlike what you think, success doesn't necessarily come from academic prowesses." he tries to bite.

"Obviously not when it comes to you." I mock before turning back around feeling satisfied for getting him not once but twice in a row.

The triumphant silence doesn't last long before he dwells in a monologue that I don't bother listening to. Instead, I tune him out and start scrubbing which helps to cover the annoying sound of his voice.

His speech feels like hours long but is probably just a few minutes tangent as by the time my ears recognize his next sentence I'm only done with the first cauldron.

"-With such a nasty attitude it's no wonder Murphy didn't show up to your date."

The cauldron clashes with another as I let it fall back into the abnormally huge sink before turning my head toward the nuisance of my life.

"How do you know about that?" the voice that comes out of my mouth is one I don't recognize.

He pauses and seems to hesitate.

"Heard Katie talk about it to her friend."

"I never said anything about it to Katie, 'matter of fact I never said anything about this date to anyone ever so there's no way you heard this through gossip."

"He told me." he tries again even less believable than the first time.

"Bullshit." I seeth.

It's bluff, while I believe I might know Murphy it's not to say that he isn't just like any other guy and simply good at hiding his real intentions.

He starts ranting about some story I can tell is made up on the spot and it's like the wheels stopped turning and the lightbulb lights up in my head with such intensity that the next words come out of my mouth in a loud realization that echoes his own.

"You did this, It was you!" I accuse him with a rageful glare.

He steps back and rolls his eyes tilting his head back, "Oh my-you know what?! Yeah, I did. I warned the guy and I did well because he deserved better than to be stuck on a date with a stuck-up cunt like you." he finishes his tirade by sticking his index finger in my enraged face.

"You're fucking evil." I spit it like it's a statement everyone agrees upon watching him turn his back to me walking farther away.

My outburst is so intense that I have to take a shaky breath and keep my tears at bay as my better judgment is thrown out the window and I decide to finally pour all my frustration out.

"You know, you always take some sick pleasure in telling me I'm cold-hearted," the beginning of my speech is shakey but I quickly regain strength in my voice to let out all my poison,"But you can't even own up to your own fucking flaws and the fact that you're nothing but a jackass who use your so-called 'pranks' to harass everyone in school because they know better to be friends with an asshole like you who's only friend is his twin because no one else wants to be around you!"

My rant is over and the only noise filling the space is my heavy breathing. Catching my breath I feel hot and can barely focus on anything other than my heart beating in my ears as I feel my boiling blood travel all through my body as I stare dead into the eyes of the one who brought me to such an extent of anger.

When my heart settles and I can finally hear my breathing slow down I can focus solely on him and realize that his stare is dead.

He's not glaring, he's just looking. All trace of anger is gone and he's left staring at me or rather through me with dead eyes.

I seem to have struck a nerve and for once the guy doesn't have a comeback. Instead, I'm rewarded with the shoulder shove of a six-foot-something figure who passes me to walk to the sink and starts scrubbing away…

What the heck?

The feeling of regret invades me for a moment but is quickly replaced by one of annoyance.

Why should I feel regret? It's not like he ever feels regret for the horrible things he does. He never apologizes to anyone no matter how far he crosses the line.

The regret quickly fades and I instead let the small spot of confidence inside me grow. It's the first time I've ever shut the mouth of the biggest jerk there is, why shouldn't I enjoy it as long as it lasts?

After everything, I'm entitled to this. I'm entitled to twist the knife.

I take a first careful step and then a second, more confident one closer to him and the sink.

"Yeah, I might be a cold-hearted bitch. But you're an arrogant jackass who's not even funny." I say more calmly yet still petty.

"Oh piss off!" he shouts throwing the cauldron back into the sink with a smash that I wonder might have actually shattered or maybe chipped one of them.

I jump aside to avoid another shoulder shove and follow him with my eyesight to spot him grabbing his stuff and realize he is trying to escape this detention to avoid my lash-out.

Figuring out his plan I catch up and run past him to stand in front of the door blocking his way out.

"No! No, You called me what you called me and now I get to call you whatever I want!"

I wonder for a moment why he doesn't push past me, for sure his frame can easily overpower mine but instead of crashing into me to walk out of the potion class he instead turns around and throws both robe and satchel on a station with a shout that almost rivals mine.

"Alright then let's go ahead, get it all out of your system sweetheart." He snarls standing in the middle of the class, his arms expanded before he places them on his hips.

"You!" the bitter tone escapes me in a rough huff as I point at him, "Have done nothing but make my life hell since the day I arrived." I start walking towards him, "And for what? I have NEVER given you any reason to hate me and yet I have been the target of so many of your pranks that I started being known as the damn Weasley's guinea pig!" I throw my finger in his direction before it falls back on my sides as I walk slowly but with conviction towards him.

"There we go!" he says faking being proud probably to egg me on in my rant with a sick smirk bending down to my eye level and crossing his arms probably to toy with me and undermine me as he always does.

"You do nothing at school but be a nuisance and waste everyone's time including mine and it's so sick to think that you can't even let others be successful just because you can't achieve anything on your own, it's pathetic!" I'm getting closer, almost toe to toe with the redhead who doesn't take a step back and stays planted where he stands or rather is bent over.

"Come on let it all out," he snarls.

"But somehow I was still stupid enough to think that this time you would have the decency to at least admit you went too far and apologize for hurting my friend but even then you cannot take responsibility as always," I finish my tirade taking my final step right in front of him as our noses brush.

"Anything else?!" he angrily spits in my face with a scowl.

I breathe in harshly wishing I could punch him or clap back like I did before but realize if my rant hasn't aroused all kinds of empathy it is useless to keep calling him names it won't male a difference.

"Yeah, your attempt to make me look ugly by turning my hair pink completely failed because I still look good unlike you," I say sourly throwing a glance at his mop of hair.

He sneers.

His arms that were crossed in front of him manage to travel up and brush strands of hair behind my ears before his fingers slide down and twirl the locks in his hands toying with them.

When I'm done bathing in the hatred coating his eyes I notice I'm not the only one panting when I feel his breath brush my face.

Why is he panting? I'm the one who just rambled angrily for five minutes.

"Got it all out?" he says calmer this time around.

I look at him and my eyes make the mistake of switching between his eyes and lips just a second to see his doing just the same and analyze my face.

We haven't moved from our spot and I don't know why.

"Yeah, I think so," he whispers his lips brushing over mine with each syllable.

He stands back up, his hands leaving my hair and falling back to his side as he brushes past me leaving me to stand there frozen trying to comprehend the goosebumps littering my body and my hands shaking by my hips.

I manage to turn around and see him grabbing his stuff and making his way to the class entrance once more.

I find my voice, less confident than before but still strong enough to try and stop him.

"What are you doing detention isn't over yet!" I begrudgingly state.

"Then I guess I'll get a week's worth of detention!" he announces walking out with one hand clutching his satchel and the other one throwing his robe over his shoulder.

He's gone, and in the newly found silence, I breathe out through my nose and assess what just happened.

Weasley just mocked me, pissed me off and egged me on, undermined me, and left me in a classroom filled to the brim with cauldrons to clean all by myself after toying with my anger, my hair, and…

My hand bolts into fists and my nails sink into my palms as I conclude what I already know.

I hate him.

[onelittlespiral]

FML: Confidence

I had decided it was finally time for a change. A few years after college and sitting all day at the office had taken its toll. Twink death was here, but I wanted to have a chance at a few more wild nights before I hit my thirties. So, on a buddy’s recommendation I called up Dr. Webb. He had been touted to me as one of the best in his industry, able to help with all kinds of health and wellness. In my consultation, we discussed my goals. I talked about my concerns around aging and some of the weight I had put on. He probed a bit about my health and family medical history. He was so calm and gentle. It was so easy to talk with him I may have even disclosed more than I wanted to about my college days and conquests. At the end, he leaned back and read over his notes:

“If I am being honest, I am not sure what you are too concerned with. You may not be your youngest, but I wouldn’t say you are deviating too much from a health body at your age.”

“But Doc, I don’t want to just slide into my thirties. I want to get out there like I did just a few years ago.”

“There is nothing wrong with aging my boy. It’s scary for us all but we aren’t stopping the clock any time soon.”

“I don’t want to stop the clock. I just want to feel confident in my body again.”

He stroked his beard and thought for a moment, “Now that is maybe something I can work with.” The rest of the visit was boring. But by the time I left his office, I had a pack vitamin supplements, a list of recommended exercises, and a follow up appointment in a few weeks.

Over the next couple days or so, I diligently took the supplements, followed the exercise routine, and logged my daily progress. It was strange, I didn’t really see a difference, but did start to feel a bit better. The biggest change I think I felt though was a kind of hormonal rebalance. I think doc mentioned it. My sleep was slowly becoming more regular, mood swings improved, and my flexibility was improving as I followed my exercise routine. However, I think it was also starting to create a fixation. I would just need to see my progress, check if I was improving. Whenever I got a small chance I would just stare at myself and focus on my curves. Were they any smaller?

I mentioned it to Dr. Webb at our next meeting. He laughed it off, said it was nothing unusual. But he did send me home with some meditation files to help me relax and center my mind. Help me let go of my worries and all that. And I will confirm they were effective. I popped on the first tape that night, listening to breathing exercises and ambient white noise. Woke up an hour later feeling refreshed. I don’t think I thought about my body much that night. In fact, I hardly thought about anything. My mind felt so clear.

It continued like that for a week I think. To be honest, the days started blurring together a bit. The routine was really sinking in, abs became an almost unconscious part of my day. At some point though, I don’t know when, I did start to notice a change as I would finish the tapes. I would always come to hard as wood. My appetite for sex was off the charts, quickly becoming a nuisance to take care of myself, several times a day. I even had to take a break at work one day. That is, until one day I saw myself in the mirror.

I was getting ready for the day, and suddenly something in me shifted. I stopped pulling down my tee and stared at myself in the mirror.

Damn, had I always been this hot?

Something about the way my jeans hugged into my sides and the thick matted carpet stretching across my stomach felt new and exciting. My mind said it should have felt off, but staring at my gut and feeling its weight ripple as I rubbed it up and down, I was entranced.

‘I felt big, strong, and masculine’, a voice echoed in mind, and I couldn’t agree more. Instantly my plans for the day were shot. I needed to get out there and find someone to share this body with. I couldn’t keep it all to myself. I popped my top off and went on the prowl for a piece of ass to demolish. A few quick photos and I had some nameless twink on his way over for an afternoon delight. Within moments of his arrival, I felt a shift in energy between us. I was used to a kind of back and forth, pull and push as people met and flirted. This was all pull. It started slowly, as he sat next to me on the couch. Then, he placed his hand on my thigh and gently rubbed. I was soon no longer talking to him, I was giving him commands:

“Scoot closer to me.” He scooted.

“Rub my belly a bit, don’t be shy.” He hesitated for just a moment before gliding his hand over my furry belly.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” He nodded limply. He was fixated on other things

‘A man gets what he wants,’ rang the voice in my head. And my patience was running thin.

The commands flowed from my mouth quickly:

“Take off my shirt”

“Take off your shirt”

“Lay on me a bit”

“Don’t mind the smell, I’m wrapping my arm around you.”

He quickly followed commands, even started taking huffs of my musky pits as he curled into my arms. I didn’t tell him to do that yet, but I felt so in control as this man was getting hard practically in my lap. It was time.

“Pull out my cock.”

“Put your head right there.”

“Open wide.”

“Suck, boy.”

It was just so easy to get him to comply. He was like putty in my hands. He just bent to my authority as I guided his willing throat, mouth, and tongue through the best blow job of my life. By the time I was ready to move on, a damp spot had formed through his shorts at the tip of his throbbing cock. It bobbed in the air a bit as I turned him around and pulled down his shorts. I took a moment to press myself against him, let him feel the power of my body.

“Bend over.” And he went down on all fours.

By the time my next appointment came up, I already had a small selection of boys willing to come over when I needed them. They were so small, I was almost worried I would break them in half. But it felt so freeing to discover this side of myself. Nothing could beat a twink sitting on my dick, begging for me to cum in him. I reported back to the Doc that I didn’t think I needed his services anymore. He said that he couldn’t agree more, and that even he was shocked at how much progress I made in such a short period of time.

“Now would you kindly put your shorts back on? They did not need to come off for this examination.”

“No,” I replied, “gotta take care of some business first. You want to show me that cute ass of yours.”

“I don’t think so, I…”

“Please doctor, with a body like this? I’m confident you’ll find your work satisfying.”

[dark-dawn]

❝ HEART RATE HIGHS !! ❞ – azriel x reader

✭ pairing: gym rat ! azriel x archeron ! reader

✭ summary: you swear you only have a gym membership for self-improvement. it’s definitely not to see the cute guy you have a crush on.

✭ contains: modern au, f!reader, college au, but age is vague, anxious!reader who can’t see that azriel is already a little in love with you, gym culture, alcohol, meddling sisters, because reader is terrible at talking to guys, mutual pining.

✭ word count: 3k+ ✭ a/n: i absolutely love gym fics and i couldn't stop thinking about azriel in a compression shirt, so if i have to suffer, so do you <3

“wait, did i hear you properly? you’re going to the gym?” nesta’s voice cuts through the quiet murmur of the lecture hall. heads turn, and the professor pauses mid-sentence, frowning at the interruption. you cringe at the sudden attention and whisper an apology, slouching in your seat to avoid the stares.

“you’re acting like i’ve just sprouted wings,” you respond, trying to keep your voice low.

nesta blinks, her surprise melting into scepticism. “well, it is out of character for you. the gym, are you sure?”

“yes.”

“really?”

you nod.

you can’t blame her for being doubtful. among your sisters, you’re the most averse to exercise. even elain, thanks to her gardening, could likely outlift you. but –

“i don’t know if i should be offended that you’re so surprised.”

“hey, it’s not personal,” nesta replies, her voice softer as she glances around the room. the professor had resumed teaching and students were slowly returning their attention to their notes. “it’s just... unexpected. i mean, last time i suggested going for a jog, you looked at me like i’d grown a second head.”

“yeah, well, i just figured it’s about time i start taking better care of myself.”

“what brought this on all of a sudden?”

you shrug, trying to put your thoughts into words. “i guess i just realised that i’ve been neglecting my health lately. with school and everything else going on, i haven’t been feeling so great.”

nesta nods in understanding, letting you continue. neither of you really cared about this class, after all, and it wasn’t the first time you’d been called out for talking through a lecture.

“i just thought it might be a good way to clear my head, you know? like, a chance to zone out and focus on something other than deadlines and exams.”

“if you turn into a gym rat and only eat chicken and rice, i’m disowning you.”

“you’d have to pry ice cream from my cold, dead hands,” you say, nudging nesta with a grin. “nothing can take away my love of carbs and cheesy fries.”

“uh-huh, sure. that’s what they all say until they’re posting pictures of their meal prep on instagram.”

“you have no faith in me, do you?”

“none whatsoever,” she replies with a grin. “but hey, if this gym thing helps you feel better, i’m all for it.”

“if i ever mention a juice cleanse, you have full permission to stage an intervention.”

“deal. and if you lecture me on the importance of pre-workout supplements, i’m kicking you out of the apartment.”

after your year abroad, you found yourself back at the university of velaris, settling into a new rhythm with your three sisters. the four of you had decided to share an apartment, a decision fuelled by equal parts necessity and nostalgia. it wasn’t long before familiar routines took shape amidst the chaos of unpacked boxes and endless debates over furniture placement.

besides, feyre had been spending most of her time at her new boyfriend’s apartment, leaving a bit more breathing room for the rest of you. you hadn’t met him yet, but you’d heard he came from money and his penthouse had skyline views, so you could hardly blame her.

nesta wasn’t a fan, muttering something about “trust fund babies” under her breath whenever his name came up in conversation. but feyre seemed happy, and ultimately, that was what mattered most, even if a twinge of jealousy occasionally crept in.

“you should come with me.”

“i would rather die,” she snorts. “doesn’t mor work out? you should ask her.”

“no way, i’d look even more unfit next to her. i have some pride.”

“wow, so you ask me instead. you’re such a bitch,” she laughs.

as luck would have it, the gym was just a 10-minute walk away, conveniently offering a discounted price for students. the only downside was going alone.

“but i don’t know how to use the equipment,” you groan.

“and you think i do?” your sister retorts.

“well, no, but at least i wouldn’t look like the only idiot.”

“just find someone with muscles and ask them,” she suggests.

“right, of course, because i’m so great at talking to strangers.”

nesta raises an eyebrow, her lips twitching with amusement. “so, what’s your plan then? to stand in the corner and hope the smith machine starts talking to you?”

“maybe,” you mumble, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up your neck. you didn’t even know what a smith machine was until this morning.

nesta lets out a dramatic sigh, shaking her head. “stop being such a baby and put a cute workout outfit on. you’ll be fine.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

you were very much not fine.

the blonde girl at the front desk, with her bouncing ponytail and bright smile that could probably power the entire gym, was very nice. she had given you a tour of the gym, showing you the rows of gleaming equipment and weight racks, and enthusiastically pointed out the array of classes available, from yoga and spin to high-intensity interval training.

she had, however, assumed you knew how to use everything, and you hadn’t been brave enough to correct her.

you had nodded along, trying to absorb the barrage of information she threw at you, but each machine seemed more complicated than the last, and you were positive some of them belonged in a medieval torture chamber. 

but you could do this. if guys who couldn’t even spell “midterm” could end up looking like greek statues, surely you could handle a single gym session. you were smart, you were pretty. everything was going to be just fine. besides, you had watched enough fitness influencers on social media to have a vague idea of what to do. with a deep breath, you reminded yourself that everyone had to start somewhere – or at least that’s what your therapist had told you.

deciding to start your session with something familiar, you made your way over to the row of treadmills. incline walking was hard to mess up. the downside was that it made you feel like you were dying.

thirty minutes later, you were profoundly regretting your decision as you clung to the handrails, legs burning with exertion. sweat had beaded on your forehead, and you couldn’t help but curse under your breath.

with shaky legs, you made your way to the weights, steeling yourself against the familiar wave of self-doubt. this part of the gym was always crowded with an excess of men flaunting their egos, their grunts and posturing only serving to make you feel even more out of place.

you think of nesta and how she would never let anyone make her feel small. she would have your head if she thought you would let any man intimidate you.

deep breaths. everything is fine.

as you attempt to adjust the resistance on the leg press machine, your fingers fumble over the pin that holds the weight stack in place, causing the plates to clang noisily against each other. flushed and annoyed, you would love nothing more than to slink away in embarrassment.

“here, let me.” he crouches beside you and effortlessly rectifies your problem as if you hadn’t been struggling for the past ten minutes.

oh god, he looked like he could go viral on tiktok or be on the front cover of a fitness magazine.

and he was helping you.

stay calm. just ignore the fact that this might be the most beautiful man you’ve ever met.

you couldn’t help but steal glances at the way his muscles flexed beneath the fabric of his black compression shirt, each movement highlighting the definition of his arms and chest.

he was so pretty. you just hoped you didn’t look like you were dying.

“thanks,” you say, your voice coming out a little more breathless than you intended.

oh god, just breathe.

he flashes you a soft smile, “no problem. we’ve all been there.”

you’d like to say you committed to a gym membership for self-improvement.

(you would be lying.)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

before ever stepping foot in a gym, your taste in men was somewhat predictable.

you liked nerdy computer science guys you could play video games with and pretentious english lit students who gave you good book recommendations – the indoor sort.

they all tended to look like a light breeze could push them over. not the kind where you could steal their hoodies. and that was fine. you didn’t care, honest.

but then the cute guy at the gym completely ruined your usual type in men. you never imagined you’d be that into muscles, but he looked like he could toss you around like a rag doll, and you soon realised that you actually quite liked the thought.

you initially thought your crush would be harmless – glancing at him from across the room and playing out scenarios in your head.

but then he started offering to unload your plates, and showed you how different machines worked when you looked particularly confused. he would ask you to spot him, despite you both knowing you would be of zero help, and would refill your water bottle when he noticed it getting low.

he would even help to correct your form so you wouldn’t injure yourself.

that, however, had you so flustered you couldn’t even complete the full set. his hand grazing your waist made your heart pound so loudly, you were certain he could hear it. you wanted the ground to swallow you whole.

you told him you had to leave early to finish your essay.

and then, like the gentleman he was, he had asked you about it the next time he saw you, and let you ramble about your major for far too long. the worst part was that he seemed genuinely interested.

you didn’t even know his name and yet you were pretty sure you wanted to have his babies.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“are you sure you really need protein powder?” elain questioned, picking up a bunch of celery for her green juices. “you can get all the vitamins and minerals you need from real food, you know.”

“but it’s so much easier to hit my protein goals with it,” you whined, clutching the tub of powder defensively.

“she’s only doing this because her crush drinks the same brand,” nesta teased, a sly grin spreading across her face as she tossed a box of granola into the cart.

“oh my god, keep your voice down,” you groaned, glancing around nervously. it was 10 pm on a wednesday. the grocery store was practically deserted, but you think you might cry if anyone overhears. “besides, it’s not just because of him. it’s practical!”

“practical,” nesta repeated, her grin widening. “sure, that’s the reason.”

“what’s his name again?" elain said, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“i hate you,” you muttered, feeling your cheeks heat up. you tried to focus on the nutrition label in front of you, but nesta’s laughter made it impossible.

“come on,” nesta said, nudging you playfully. “you’ve been pining over him for months. when are you going to actually talk to him?”

“never?”

“you should accidentally bump into him and spill your protein shake all over his expensive gym clothes. it would be a brilliant conversation starter.”

“please don’t jinx me.”

“oh, and then you could do his laundry as an apology, and he’d buy you a coffee because he thinks you’re pretty!” elain chimes in.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

you’ve been working out long enough now that you knew the basics of gym etiquette. namely, don’t be creepy. a simple thing, really, but too many people struggled to act like sane, well-adjusted human beings capable of basic manners. it was as if the gym was some bizarre alternate universe where leggings made men’s brains short-circuit.

so you try very hard to not stare at your gym crush doing pull-ups.

but his biceps are flexing, his shirt is riding up, and you never knew you could be so attracted to someone’s back.

you feel like you’re twelve again – you want to write his name in a heart in your diary and talk about him for hours on the phone.

for the first time, however, you’re grateful you don’t know any concrete details about him. you would’ve stalked his social media, found out he had a girlfriend or horrible political opinions, and then cried yourself to sleep.

you’d really rather not know. hopeless yearning is much more to your taste.

but then he notices you across the room and smiles, and you realise your gym crush is very much not harmless.

you decide that you’ll be brave and actually initiate conversation for once.

a horrible idea, really.

“hey.”

“hey,” he responds.

“what are you listening to?” god, you didn’t think you were this awkward.

“oh, i don’t listen to music when i work out.”

“right, yeah, i totally get that.” you actually don’t understand that at all. the idea of exercising with just your thoughts sounds like a special kind of torture, but he doesn’t need to know that.

you fidget with the hem of your shorts, desperately searching for something else to say.

“so, uh, how’s your workout going?” he asks.

“it’s going okay,” you reply, the words tumbling out. “you?”

you want to disappear.

“yeah, it’s good too.” you swear you see a hint of pink in his cheeks, though it’s probably just from finishing his set.

your mind is blank and you have no idea what else to say. “great.”

you hope you look like you’re smiling and not grimacing.

this was quite possibly the worst idea you’ve ever had. you’re never speaking to a man again.

even if they are very pretty and look like they could pick you up without breaking a sweat.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

getting ready with three other girls in a cramped apartment was always a challenge. you loved your sisters, but if feyre didn’t get away from the mirror, you would scream.

feyre, always meticulous with her makeup, was painstakingly perfecting her eyeliner, ignoring the sighs from nesta.

“can you possibly move any slower?” nesta hisses, leaning against the doorframe with crossed arms.

you exchange a knowing look with elain, who was sitting on the edge of the bathtub, scrolling through her phone. she had opted to stay behind, and you were growing increasingly jealous of her decision.

“why don’t we just take turns?” you intervene, hoping to avoid a fight before you even got to the party. “feyre, you finish up, then nesta, and i’ll go last. sound fair?”

feyre finally steps away from the bathroom and nesta wastes no time in taking her place, muttering something about how she could do a better job in half the time.

feyre had been persistent about attending one of rhysand’s house parties for weeks now, and despite your and nesta’s reluctance, she had managed to wear you down. it wasn’t so much her persuasive arguments as it was the promise of free alcohol that ultimately swayed both of you. plus, you were a little curious. feyre had been gushing about her boyfriend for months now. 

as you stood in front of the mirror, giving yourself a final once-over, you couldn’t help but feel a little nervous. feyre, radiant in her navy dress, was practically buzzing with excitement. nesta looked as though she’d rather be doing anything else, despite begrudgingly admitting that the three of you looked good.

you had opted for a short, tight-fitted black dress. shocking how regularly going to the gym could actually help your confidence.

feyre led the way, practically dragging you and nesta out of the apartment. elain, now comfortably nestled on the couch with a book, waved you goodbye. “be safe, and don’t drink too much!”

“it’s so cute that you think i could survive the night without being drunk,” nesta laughs. 

the cool night air is a welcome change from the stuffy apartment as the three of you step outside to wait for the cab. feyre was already chattering about rhysand and his friends, while nesta had shot her a look that could wither plants.

you really needed a drink.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

rhysand’s apartment ended up being a thirty-minute drive away, nestled in the wealthier district of velaris, and you could see why feyre spent so much time here.

you could hear the music before you even enter, and it smells so strongly of alcohol you already feel a little lightheaded.

it can hardly be called an apartment in all honesty, it’s nicer than most houses and certainly surpasses anything you’ve ever stepped foot in before. it’s spacious, with an open layout that flows effortlessly from one room to the next. plush couches and chairs face a glass coffee table that is currently covered in red plastic cups and half-finished bottles of vodka. luckily, all his furniture was black. you winced at the thought of cleaning the stains that were bound to appear after tonight.

you noticed the floor-to-ceiling windows offering a pretty view of the city skyline, the twinkling lights stretching out like a blanket of stars against the night. you weren’t the jealous type, but you had the sudden urge to strangle feyre.

she had navigated the apartment with ease, her eyes alight with familiarity as she disappeared in search of rhysand. left to fend for yourselves, you and nesta exchanged a glance before setting off in the direction of the kitchen.

as you weave through the throng of people, you catch sight of mor, effortlessly manoeuvring between guests as she pours drinks. she seems completely at ease, flashing dazzling smiles and looking stunning as ever.

mor’s eyes light up with recognition as she spots you among the crowd. with a beckoning gesture, she calls you over. “i didn’t think you two would be here!” she seems genuinely happy to see you, despite only talking to her after class a couple of times.

“our sister is dating the host, so naturally, we’ve been dragged along,” you reply. “she’s off hunting him down now.”

mor’s gaze shifts between you and nesta, realisation crossing her features. “rhysand is actually my cousin,” she explains with a smile. “so, i’ve met feyre a few times now.”

“that’s unfortunate,” nesta laughs. you’re pretty sure she’s only half-joking.

you elbow her. “come on, don’t be mean. i don’t want to be kicked out after five minutes of being here.”

“are you sure? we could go get pizza and ice cream and not wake up feeling like we were hit by a car?”

“are you seriously the voice of reason right now?”

“hey, if you’re going to the gym, then i can be a responsible adult.”  

mor perks up, her eyes brightening with interest. “you work out?”

you smile sheepishly, “i only started a few months ago.”

“you should join me sometime!” mor suggests eagerly. “i usually go with rhysand and a few others, but one of them hasn’t shown up in ages. it’d be great to have another girl!”

“speaking of which, i should introduce you to them,” mor adds with a grin before calling out, “azriel! cassian! get over here!”

and then you spot who is walking over.

“mor, what’s up?” a very familiar voice asks.

because, you realise, it’s your gym crush. it’s the guy you’ve been pining over for months.

your brain is really struggling to comprehend that he’s here, and he knows mor, and apparently rhysand?

has he met feyre too?

he’s wearing all black, like usual, and his biceps look even better in this lighting, and oh god, you want to melt into the ground before you somehow think of a new way to embarrass yourself.

your mind is racing a hundred miles per hour and you’re suddenly realising you’re going to have to avoid feyre’s boyfriend forever if he’s friends with him and – 

and as your eyes meet his, and realisation flickers across his features, you’re really wishing you had stayed at home with elain.

or vanish into thin air. that works too.

“az, these are feyre’s sisters!” mor’s voice breaks through your thoughts.

you’ve finally learnt his name, you suppose, but you’re pretty sure you’ll have to find a new gym.

[beatrixstonehill2]

"I've officially been a Hooters girl for one year! Just look at how fucking big my boss has made my tits. I was a C-Cup when I got hired. Before I even got my uniform they were shoving these supplements in my face. I kind of love it but I know if I ever want a real job someday I'll have to chop these embarrassing things off. It's all my coworkers and I talk about, finally getting out of the job and getting a reduction or having these monster tits we were forced to grow chopped off completely. It sucks, cuz I liked my boobs and thought they were so pretty. But now look at these grotesque melons I'm forced to walk around with all day. Every guy assumes I'm some free-use breeding cow. I've given up trying to fight them off. My commutes are now just one giant hardcore porno shoot. Which is to say nothing about how many customers I have to tit fuck and suck off every shift. Men are so greedy.....

The second guys see these huge lactating tits of mine they go nuts. They could be walking arm-in-arm with their pregnant girlfriend and still run over grope my tits and fuck me. The girlfriends just watch and film it anyway, sometimes they even masturbate, watching their bfs fuck me and smack me around. It's pathetic how used to being a cum dumpster I've become. I don't even care or notice when cum is pouring down my legs anymore. I actually leave a pool of cum wherever I sit. I can't believe what this job has turned me into, all because my dad talked me into working here, calling it a great opportunity.

Well, I hope they like taking care of all the grandkids I'll be forced to push out now. Since we're all in various stages of pregnancy, as well (Two months along with batch two!). I always dreamt of my first pregnancy being with my husband, us cherishing our kids. Not me getting fucked against the door of a subway car as a literal crowd of men surround me, all taking turns fucking me. Giving birth not in a nice hospital with my husband at my side, but instead at work as my boss gives me tequila shots for the pain, as customers face fuck me while I'm pushing out triplets. I thought men were supposed to be more gentle with pregnant girls? I swear once my belly gets really big and round they go ballistic. Way more guys start hitting me, roughing me up just for fun as they fuck me in bigger groups. My boss actually likes it when I come into work with bruises on my boobs and belly or a black eye, says it gets the customers more aroused.

Now after all this sex and breeding and my breasts getting so big I feel like my spine is gonna snap any day, I can't focus on school at all. My one way out of this job and it's like if I go ten minutes without getting fucked or playing with my tits and pussy I get agitated and restless. Like I'm addicted to getting fucked, even if 90% of it is not consensual. I'm literally fantasizing about getting my clothes ripped off and fucked in public, humiliated and treated like garbage as I write this. What the hell am I becoming? I'm doomed to drop out and keep working here. How big are my tits gonna be in a year? My brain can't take this, it's like my mind is breaking and soon I'll be nothing but a cock-addicted pregnant bimbo with a 40 IQ and breasts that weight over 100lbs a piece. The worst part is, I keep thinking to myself..... is that such a bad thing?"

[alphajocklover]

Hey, um, I'm a really tall, really skinny gay guy. People have always told me that I could be really athletic if I wanted to, but no matter how much I eat I always stay thin and lanky. I guess it's just my metabolism. Could you help me beef up?

Maybe I just don't have the mindset for it

So, no matter what, even though you desperately want to, you can’t seem to put on any muscle. Trust me when I tell you that you’re not alone. There are tons of people who look at their body and wish they were different, and there are just as many who do what they can to change and find it's just not enough. That's part of why transformation blogs exist after all. The fantasy of getting your dream body without all the hassle. Some people say that those who have trouble doing this just need to work harder, or are lazy, but usually it has more to do with genetics and metabolism than anything else. Getting a body like the ones in my post is possible without magic and reality warping apps, but it is very difficult and not possible for everyone. So, your request brings up an interesting idea: what would happen if I changed you mentally and left your body alone? Would the right mindset really change that much? Well, let's see.

It shouldn’t be hard to change you mentally. I won’t even go into how. Maybe I used some magic, or nano bots, or something else from my increasingly large collection of jock transformation methods. Honestly the how isn’t really important to this experiment. It’s what happens next that we want to focus on. Because now, mentally, you’re a jock. I didn’t entirely rewrite your identity, so you’re still you, just a jock version of yourself. You’re dumber, simpler. You love sports and working out, and obsess about getting massive muscles. You’re the stereotypical jock… except you're skinny as a bean pole. The new you can’t just accept that of course. He wants to be huge. He works out like crazy, follows all the tips, takes every supplement and tries every protein powder he can find, all to chase the version of you he knows he can be. So… does it work? Does the new you get a jock body? The answer is fairly boring: kind of. An increased dedication to exercise and a passion for it is sure to make a big difference, and you end up putting on dozens of pounds of muscle, but since I didn’t change your body, you still have to deal with the genetics life has dealt you. You get huge, but you don’t get as big as some of the other gym goers. You’re a jock, but you’re not inhumanly massive. You’re definitely a total stud, but it takes quite some time for you to get where you want to be. I’m not knocking hard work and dedication, but they’re not the only factors and it’s ok to acknowledge that. You may never get as big as you dream… but that's not really why you do it anymore. You’re a jock now, and a real jock doesn’t just workout because they wanna look good, they do it because they love it! Because it’s their passion! That passion and dedication will take you very far, farther than people get on just good genetics. You may never be the biggest guy in the gym, but you’ll get big and enjoy every second of getting bigger.

Of course, that's coming at it from a more grounded viewpoint, and we’re not here to be grounded are we? You want to live out your jock fantasy, and as thanks for letting me do this little experiment with you, I’ll give your muscles an extra little boost! Looks like you will be the biggest guy in the gym after all! With both the right mindset and the perfect body, you’re going to end up a jock bro god. Hope you enjoy it bro! You're gonna have guys throwing themselves at you after this.

[graychrissy]

🌊Digital Detox + Egyptians lucid dreaming method 🌊

Idk what to put on the title of this post so I wrote digital detox and I have copy pasted the main lines.

In the ancient Egypt the Egyptians use to have lucid dreaming alot and it was extremely easy for for them not just Egyptians but it was also mention ancient Indian scriptures.

You’re probably wondering ‘what’s the secret’? The real problem is often NOT your technique. It’s actually another issue that no amount of techniques, articles, reality checks, supplements or uncomfortable masks is going to fix. It’s your ‘inner game’. Specifically, your subconscious motivation and reward circuits, and ‘dopamine cycle’. Travel in your mind for a second, to ancient Egypt.

There were no smart phones, internet connections, computer animated action movies or virtual reality headsets.

Your brain back then would have produced a healthy amount of dopamine as a reward for pretty basic things like eating, working, exploring, and taking some time to relax or meditate

Now our average attention spans are literally less than 7 SECONDS. It’s probably a lot lower than that, and It’s declining every single year with the rise of new, highly addictive and stimulating social media apps and platforms. When was the last time you meditated for over 90 minutes? Have you ever? I’m not saying you have to do that to lucid dream, but this sort of practice was very common 5000 years ago. In fact, it was weird NOT to do that. And herein lies the main problem.

Your brain is ‘fried’ with an overly stimulated dopamine pathway. Dopamine is the neurotransmitter that stimulates the feeling of WANTING to keep doing something. It’s the reason you keep scrolling through Instagram, or keep refreshing your Facebook feed to see if there are any new comments or notifications. But it’s also the SUBCONSCIOUS reason you aren’t able to lucid dream easily. In the last decade especially, there have been billions of dollars spent by big tech to essentially ‘addict you’ to their platforms. Why? Money. The more time and energy you spend on platforms like that, the more money they make. So the task has been given to artificial intelligence. The AIs often just get trained and told a few basic things: 1: Get people to spend more time on the platform 2: Get people to keep coming BACK to the platform as often as possible The ‘AI’ pays almost NO attention to what that would do to your mental health, attention span, motivation, emotions, or really anything else. Much LESS attention is paid to the effect it has on your ability to focus, or do things like, say, lucid dream. Now, the ‘dopamine cycle’ is one part of the problem, but it’s actually pretty easy to fix. There are several little pieces to what I call the ‘modern brain puzzle’. Things that just weren’t a problem 5000 years ago. You can see some of this playing out in children today. On average, children or people under the age of 15, find it MUCH easier to lucid dream than adults do. It’s because at that age, their dopamine system has not been damaged too much. This is of course changing now, as more and more children are having access to smartphones, but it’s an interesting point. In fact not only does the dopamine problem affect your ability to lucid dream, it also affects your ability to WANT to lucid dream (consciously and subconsciously). Specifically I’m talking about your motivation and focus. And you guessed it, there’s your number one cause of problems when trying to meditate, practice techniques like the WILD, or recall your dreams.

After reading this paragraph or stanza whatever,I noticed something,as a kid I had lucid dreams alot with just putting intentions.

My first lucid dream was at around 7-8 years old,and I was sinking when I realised I was dream and I tried controlling my dream and even succeeded,and I was probably there for about 10 minutes playing with underwater creatures and mermaids.

And till 7 grade I use to have alot of lucid dreams but after that I was allowed to use phone and so I was always invested in phone like all the time. By the way lucid dream was pretty normal for me and I pretty much forgot about it and never really paid attention to lucid dreaming. And then I rarely had any lucid dreams, probably 4 times ever since 8 grade and I've noticed every time I lucid dream it's always whenever I don't use any social media.

In 9 grade my phone was taken again because my mother noticed my social media addiction. And after few months I again start to lucid dream for fun easily and effortlessly but during COVID I was again allowed to have my phone and then a new laptop so now my life was revolving around social media again and for the past few year I only lucid dream whenever I don't get to use my phone more then 2 days.

Idk bout y'all but I wasn't allowed to use phones or laptop till 8th grade so the only thing I knew was TV which I only watched after coming home so like my mind was most of the te bored because I didn't had anything to keep it entertain which made it easy for me to observe around looking for things to do.

So how can you reverse the ‘dopamine problem’ and several of the other issues modern life has created? By the way: This is NOT about destroying your phone and going back to live in a cave. There are actually several powerful habits you can install, that will let you KEEP using your phone, laptop etc, but without these harmful effects. Here’s the simple solution to more lucid dreams: 1. Reverse engineer your life and remove distractions, manipulation, ‘dopamine hijacking’ and harmful blue light exposure from your daily routine (along with some other ‘problem patterns’) 2. Get inside your subconscious brain and rewire yourself to WANT to practice lucid dreaming, and to effortlessly do reality checks at the right time, without even trying 3. Learn powerful ‘all day awareness’ and ‘lucid living’ techniques that give your brain superpowers in the fight 4. On top of THAT foundation, learn the most effective techniques and concepts, use our tools to stay motivated, and experience lucid mastery within 14 days. Let’s dive a little bit deeper: First, you have to ‘reverse engineer’ the problem. This can be complicated if you don’t know what you’re doing, but we’ve laid everything out step by step for you. If dopamine addiction is part of the problem, we have to break that addiction first. Then comes your mindset, and your motivation pathways. You need to actually feel GOOD when you practice these things. I see so many people saying they’re struggling to remember to do reality checks, or they just don’t want to wake up at ‘weird times’ to practice. Don’t worry, you won’t have to. It will feel good, and you’ll ENJOY practicing these things. Next, your subconscious mind. It’s SO important to fix your internal beliefs about lucid dreaming, because the chances are you have ‘internal blocks’ about becoming lucid. They’re easy to pick up, but a bit harder to ‘unlearn’. The system shows you how to ‘unlearn’ them, and install new, powerful and self affirming beliefs into your mind. This gives your brain lots more motivation to keep trying. Now, one of the most common things I hear people say is that they can’t REMEMBER to keep doing reality checks. It’s linked to the dopamine problem we mentioned earlier, but it’s also connected to a few other psychological principles that we’ll get onto. We’ll give you a new framework to ENJOY reality checks, remember them without any annoying reminders, and actually get them to SHOW UP in your dreams, 9 out of 10 times. And then finally, we’ll build the most effective techniques, methods and concepts on top of that new, strong foundation. Of course, I’m simplifying this here, but that’s the outline.

Here are some videos that may help.

If you want to know more about it or get the steps to lucid dream you can buy the book or go through a long step to get it for free but the procedure is very long and probably only for Iphone user.

You find some good articles ways to do the 'reverse dopamine' thingy.(I donot trust my research on this topic cuz I got confuse)

You may use Adambja's tape to reprogram your subconscious and this hacking the matrix tape the comments under the video was so good and I found this tape on someone's success story. You can use this two tapes to reprogram your subconscious and of course psych-k.

This is pretty much all you need digital detox,observing your surroundings and subconscious reprogramming to change your belief or assumptions.

And this will make you even more motivated that you are working on your goals as many of us have the access of devices it's hard for us to keep up with all this method and it's not like we are always busy if we are we wouldn't be scrolling through Tumblr and Pinterest all the time. If you read the the copy pasted part you'll see what I mean.

Edit: I forgot to mention it 🥲 if we follow do this we CAN HAVE lucid dream everyday.

Egyptians lucid dreaming tea

This will be quick,so I went to my aunt's place with my mother and my aunt's ran out of tea powder/leaves so she used her daughter's blue lotus tea and after getting home I took a nap and I HAD A FOKING LUCID DREAM,so basically I didn't knew that it was the tea until I was doing some research on LD and found out that in ancient Egypt they use Blue Lotus tea and I found some review about it on YouTube and people had very vivid dreams aswell. This tea basically put you in REM which y'all probably know about.

But I don't like tea😐,so if anyone have interest you can try I honestly want to but my hate for tea is on top on the list of top 5 things I hate,you can find them online people even use Blue Lotus in vape😐not encourageling y'all to smoke but if anyone does you can.

[wingsoverlagos]

This is a fun collection of quotes from the Let It Be Beatles Interview with Mark Lewisohn conducted on August 20, 2018. This is mostly for @mythserene's enjoyment, but it's also a fun lil supplement to this comment by @talking-perfectly-loud on a post by @anotherkindofmindpod, which includes some revealing, deeply salty quotes by Lewisohn from an episode of Nothing Is Real.

The below soundbites focus on Lewisohn's feelings towards the Harrison estate, particularly Olivia, though Lewisohn also lets us know that he considered suing George at one point. Italics used to indicate tone; bold font is added emphasis by me.

This is from ~1hr8min into the interview, after a discussion of Mal Evans diaries. Here's a partial transcript:

"No, no, Olivia Harrison doesn't want anything to do with me at all. Yeah, so it's very frustrating because I just want to make the history better and better and better and more and more correct, especially more and more correct in terms of balance on all four Beatles, but whatever."

This is a longer clip (6:26) from ~1hr23min in the original interview. They're discussing Lewisohn's falling out with Apple/the Beatles/George in particularly, which came about because he was falsely accused of bootlegging, or something like that. He's told a few variations of this story.

The first 3ish minutes give some flavor and backstory. Some choice quotes (they're at about 2:50, 4:35, and 5:42 in this clip):

“To the day he died, George blocked me, and Olivia blocks me in George’s name, and so it still carries on.”

“I’ve never, ever leaked, and that was why it was so galling to be accused of being a bootlegger. George Harrison accused me of being a bootlegger to my face in front of a whole film crew, the bastard. I mean, really. A horrible, horrible thing to do. I really should have done him for slander, and in fact at one point I was tempted, believe it or not. Because, you know, I’m a professional, I’m on a shoot, I’ve got a whole unit with me, and he’s accusing me of being a bootlegger in front of everybody, which was- he had no evidence for because there wasn’t any, but that didn’t matter. He was accusing me without evidence, and it was wrong, and um, you just have to put up with these things. These people, they can get away with murder. Celebrities, you know?”

Lest we think George was wilding out solely because of the bootlegging, Lewisohn helpfully clarifies that it was also Paul's Fault:

“The irony of that was that I actually had started off really well with George. I knew George from ’87, personally, and we’d had nice times, and it was- one of the things that flipped it was when I began working regularly for Paul.”

This was the part of the podcast that really took me aback, from around the 1hr43min mark. There's some chatter about Let It Be (the film), and then Lewisohn goes off once again about Olivia Harrison. He's quite impassioned, and then seems to make a conscious effort to talk himself down.

“I don’t know Olivia Harrison. I’ve never met her, which makes her- just- [angry] blocking of everything I do so ridiculous, because she doesn’t even know me. But if, as it would appear, she’s taken it upon herself to perpetuate George’s wishes, which is something that you might expect a spouse to do when their partner’s died, if the partner says, ‘Don’t ever allow this’, then she would take it as her duty not to allow it.”

This is followed by some hedging.

There are several other choice tidbits in this two hour Lewisohn marathon, but Olivia Harrison was foremost in his mind. But don't worry, guys, he's not biased!

[fiannalover]

Ok no one ever talks about Atelier Games in this Website so I'm gonna drop my unscheduled unplanned unscripted ramblings and screenshots about the Yumia trailer:

Short Version: Yumia seems to be Very different from every prior Atelier Game, going towards a more Actiony, Traditional RPG and Linear Story Driven focus than even the Iris Series and Ryza, alongside maybe doing so to gameplay elements too. However, the vibes and themes are Excellent, so although this will likely be inevitably a controversial (and potentially newbie boom inducing) title, I'm ready to love it.

Trailer Screenshot rambling under read more

YGGDRASIL, THE WORLD TREE! That's how you know it's a Traditional RPG (disclaimer: this tree has no name or given story relevancy yet, I'm joking around).

We get to see some movement and world design moments alongside the initial narration, and in this regard, Yumia fully follows in the footsteps of Ryza 3, but More. Zipline segments from there are back, and I wouldn't be surprised if Yumia was Fully open world 90% after Ryza got about 85% of the way to being an open-world game.

We get a sneak peek of the verse's Alchemy System here! We can't really say much about it: the Alchemy Core may just be an item a la the supplements of games past or a full game mechanic. If the latter, my immediate thought is that it would be again following up on Ryza 3, this time the key system, maybe on reverse, even: if they keys were an optional feature on the end of synthesis, the core could be the mandatory first step affecting Synthesis Results. We have to wait to get more info, but it's fun to think of.

Here we have the part I feel has the most potential for controversy: Battle System. Very early on, we see Yumia shoot down a fox? Cow? Foxcow hybrid? With a crossbow in real time. No UI Elements were shown in the rest of the trailer, leaving us the question: after Ryza swapped the traditional turn base for ATB, is Yumia going to change it to Real Time Action RPG?

I actually don't think we can say for sure. Again, no UI Elements means that the ambiguous identity animal could just be a non hostile mob you can kill for materials, while actual enemies are fought in turns/ATB. I don't mind which one they go with (Atelier's cousin, Tales, shows Namco does great ARPG), but one way or another, I am GREATLY looking forward to seeing the Turn Based RPG Discourse join the already lovely Bad Takes On Atelier Landscape!

With those rambles on gameplay out of the way, let's talk about the OTHER very different element: the plot.

DWAGON! Always an important Atelier Staple!

Someone get Vayne in here.

If we are to understand these screenshots as happening in chronological order, Yumia already starts the game in a commander position of a village that is preparing against something, and is promptly wiped off the face of the map. Even the most story/drama heavy Atelier games (that I played) (I'll get to you someday, Iris series) kept a generally light hearted and war crimes free atmosphere. We still don't know how it will work out in game, but it is already a very big tone shift.

This part with the wolf man enemy stands ou too for Yumia's capacity as an action protagonist. I'd say this is the most unambiguous show of strength a series character has shown. like yes, Ryza is described as a capable fighter from Ryza 2 onwards, Vayne clearly knows how to fight, but most of their actions are gameplay land. Ryza 2 ALSO leaves it clear that, story wise, Lent is the group's Actual Trained Powerhouse Fighter.

In contrast, both story and gameplay parts of the trailer leave it clear Yumia is physically capable of holding her own, another evidence of how the game is set to be tonally different from predecessors, doubly so as you realize Yumia has no companions with her on this trailer. I even to get to wonder if she'll make her journey fully solo, which would be something COMPLETELY new for the series.

But what is similar?

This part of the trailer, alongside the title's focus on memories, gave me wonderful Ayesha and Ryza 2 memories, my favorite games in the series.

Both Ayesha and Ryza 2 put a big focus on ruins and the memories of yesteryear they hold. Ayesha is set in a dying world filled with buildings left behind by those who killed it. Ryza 2 has you scouring each and every inch of the ruins in search of the memories of people who lived there, their lives, their stories, how they connected to each other.

Yumia seems like it will be focused on that: holding on to the memories that others have entrusted to you, and using them to find what if your right future, your envisioned land. Truth and Ideals, in a way.

Yumia is going to do a lot of things likely radically different. But I'm sure it will keep the core parts right: the alchemy, the light, slice-of-life elements amidst the action, the somber, atmospheric ambience of Dusk and much, much of what the Ryza Trilogy constructed.

And I can't wait to see more.

[beansprean]

Masterpost

My Familiar's Ghost part 9

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1a. Stu, Colin, and Nandor gathered around a security camera monitor, Stu sitting and the vampires leaning in around him. Stu explains, “Here’s the feed from the night your friend went missing.” Nandor jerked forward, panic crossing over his face as he shouts, “Feed?! I knew it, Rick ate poor Guillermo!” Colin replies without taking his eyes off the screen, “Camera feed, Nandor. He’s gonna show us the recording.” 1b. Film reel of the camera feed labeled “cam 2”. The first panel shows a low angle of the store distorted in black and white as Stu fast forwards, blurs of customers flitting across the screen. Stu narrates, “This is about 10pm…10:30…” Nandor coos, “Ooh, look at all the little peoples go!” The second panel goes still and in color, Nandor calling “Stop! There he is!” Sure enough, we see Guillermo walking down the aisle, black leather bag in hand, calling for Derek. In the third panel, Guillermo turns at the end of the aisle and walks past the edge of the camera’s view. Nandor asks from offscreen, “Where is he going?” 1c. Shot of the boys crowded around the monitor again, Nandor looking worried and wringing his hands together. Stu answers, “Stock room, looks like.” Colin asks, “No cameras in there?” and Stu responds “No, the focus is on loss prevention so it’s more important to cover the cash, doors, and shopping areas.” 1d. Stu continues from offscreen, “But we may be able to hear some of the audio if I…” He clicks through cameras quickly, the panel flashing on cam 3 then cam 4 before settling on cam 5, showing a different corner of the empty store closer to the stock room. We hear Guillermo’s staticky voice from nearby finish his sentence from the end of season 4: “nto a vampire.”

2a. Medium shot of the boys peering seriously at the camera monitor as the audio plays, Nandor still fiddling with his hands and looking concerned. The conversation is as follows. Derek: What? Listen, Guillermo, I appreciate this, but-. Guillermo: one-time offer, Derek! Or do you wanna keep living in a storage facility for the next hundred years? Derek: Hey, U-Store has very reasonable prices! Guillermo: Derek. Derek: Look. My life has kinda…sucked? Since I got turned? I mean, I was a loser before, but. Now I’ve got no family, no friends, shit job, a vitamin d deficiency that I can’t even take supplements for because they make me puke my guts out-. Guillermo: That’s not gonna be me. This has been my life for 13 years already. It’s all I’ve been working toward, and I deserve it. 2b. Colin and Stu both glance up at Nandor while Guillermo speaks, and Nandor looks away with a pout, embarrassed. Guillermo continues: I’ve been waiting all this time for someone to give me eternal life. It’s about time I take it for myself. And you’re gonna help me. Derek: Sigh… okay, I’m off in like, 20 minutes? If you wanna wait?

3a. After a black line break, we cut to Nandor and Colin leaving the store. Stu sees them out, leaning out the door to give them a tired wave. Colin, the back of his head and hand posed in a finger gun taking up the foreground, calls “See ya later, alligator!” Nandor turns back to say “Bye-bye, Stu!” then lifts his hand, glowing green, to try again at hypnotism, commanding “You will remember nothing if our visit.” Stu, unaffected, just says “Okay. Have a nice night.” Colin adds “Don’t forget to email me about that masterclass, we’ll talk shop!” 3b. Far shot of Colin and Nandor walking away from the gas station, both with big smiles. Colin says, “Nice guy,” and Nandor adds “Really cool guy.” /end ID

[ateez-himari]

[240823] MORNING BREEZE

[NEW UPLOAD FROMM HIMARI]

[AM 7:31] good morning atiny, please enjoy this sighting of my angel being sleepy...i did her hair, it looks nice right ? - mingi

[AM 7:31] ㅋㅋㅋ it looks this soft because i brushed it for two whole minutes, it just felt so nice - mingi

[AM 7:31] You're right it's too early to be awake on a day off 😴 But it's because I went to see my parents and I like going early when no one is there yet, plus I wanted to see them before leaving. The other members wanted to come too so everyone's having breakfast together

[AM 7:32] Ah no, my biological parents. The cemetery their tombs are in is pretty far so we had to travel there by train, we also bought incense on the way

[AM 7:32] I usually like being alone with them unless it's a special occasion, since I don't get to come by very often. Today I was happy they came to say hi though, Yunho oppa even prayed with me, then I prayed alone

[AM 7:33] I wouldn't say I'm religious, I do have spiritual beliefs because my mom followed the Shinto religion, my dad was atheist though but he would often take part in rituals and pray with her

[AM 7:34] I value protection a lot. Actually I have a bracelet that I wear all the time, Hanzo nii-chan made it for me out of pieces from a stone tower he built to pray for my health. Apparently Jungkook oppa came to visit to pray too

[AM 7:35] ㅎㅎ no I don't call my biological brother 'oppa'. When we moved to Korea my mom wanted us to keep our Japanese heritage so I use that honorific instead. That's why neither of us changed our names after getting adopted

[AM 7:35] Ooh, babytinys, that's exciting! I do have a Korean name, it's Hayun, my dad gave it to me a few days after I was born. Both of my names have similar meanings actually. Himari can be read as 'sunflower' or 'ball of light' and Hayun means sunlight! It's pretty cool

[AM 7:36] ㅎㅎ Jongho oppa wants to make sure everyone knows he says hi, he said to look forward to his update because he's gonna post picture of us

[AM 7:37] Oh the festival ? Please don't worry about that, it was just really hot so performing was hard, but I'm alright. I've been a little reckless with my health lately but our captain is watching over me closely now

[AM 7:37] Yeah, I have supplements, Seonghwa oppa got me a cute case for them. We also have a doctor with us at all times so if anything happens we'll be taken care of right away so don't focus on that too much!

[AM 7:38] Hmm I'm not sure...I have a dinner date tonight but we don't have any plans in between. I might go buy some more art supplies, Hyunjin oppa found a new store last time he came here

[AM 7:38] Here, these are the pieces I've worked on recently (I finished the second one yesterday after the fan meeting)

[AM 7:39] These ones were made with markers actually! I usually use ink but since we've been travelling lately, it's complicated to transport it without spilling

[AM 7:40] I promise I'll tell you more later, but Sannie oppa just came back from the washroom so we're off to eat now!

[AM 7:40] ㅎㅎNo we haven't had breakfast, we just came to this shop for coffee because Momo unnie recommended it, she texted it to me yesterday!

[AM 7:40] Oops, I really have to go now, Hongjoong oppa's grumbling about being hungry (as usual ㅎㅎㅎ) ♡ Love you so much, kisses!

[littleeyesofpallas]

IM just curious, can you talk about gotei 13 and zero divisions'flower symbolism in BLEACH ?

I don't know that there's much to add outside of canon. I think Kubo mentions in various supplemental materials what his reasoning was, and I believe they all line up with pretty standard Japanese floriography, i.e. hanakotoba[花言葉] lit. "flower language."

I was cross referencing things with the Bleach wiki and I realize that I have no idea where Kubo actually confirmed his preferred/intended readings for there, and the wiki doesn't have any citations on it (because of course they don't) so I'm just going to list everything I found on hanakotoba.com and point out anything that feels appropriate...

Kiku[菊]: Chrysanthemum(Chrysanthemum morifolium)

Noble/Virtuous/Lofty

Truth (White chrysanthemum specifically)

It is also more broadly associated with Longevity, Rejuvenation, and Royalty as it is the crest of the royal family of Japan. Its use with 1st division is mostly likely just evoking a seat of authority rather than flower language.

Okina-gusa[翁草]: Nodding Anemone(Anemone cernua)

Unspoken love

Ask for Nothing

Treacherous Love(a love that betrays you)

Really just laser focusing in on Sui Feng specifically here. Aptly reflects her whole thing with Yoruichi, although I don't remember offhand when the first time we actually see 2nd division's flower insignia specifically. I do know we don't even really see Omaeda properly until right before the execution (and the lt. badges are the only place we see the flowers) so it could also have been assigned after their big fight and hsitory/relationship reveal.

Kinsen-ka[金盞花]: Marigold(Calendula officinalis)

Desolation/Loneliness

The Grief of Separation

Mourning

Loss of Hope/Despair

This one at least came up in the actual manga when Kira fought Abirama. But it does seem like another character specific and relationship based one at its inception. Reflects Gin's whole self isolation from Rangiku in his pursuit of revenge, as well as Kira's abandonment in the process.

Rindou[竜胆]: Autumn Bellflower(Gentiana scabra)

To Love the Grieving

Faithfulness/Fidelity

Sincerity/Good Faith

Justice

Reliability

I assume the face value reading here is meant to focus on the "Reliability" part as the medical team. That or maybe "Love the grieving" as a reference to a sort of doctor/nurse's bedside manor. The "Faithfulness & Fidelity" reading does suit Isane's quiet devotion to Unohana though.

Ase-bi[馬酔木]: Lily-of-the-Valley(Pieris japonica)

Sacrifice/Scapegoat/Victim

Dedication/Devotion

Self-sacrifice

Another rather personal jab. A clear indicator of Hinamori's fate. "Dedication" and "Devotion" on the surface might still suit the division, but ultimately Hinamori being a "victim" and "sacrifice" of Aizen's ambition very starkly foreshadowed in this.

Tsubaki[椿]: Camellia(Camellia japonica)

Pride/Honor

Modest Splendor/Modest Virtue

Unwavering Elegance

The red tsubaki is also kind of a classically samurai associated flower on its own, hanakotoba not withstanding. When the camellia dies the flowers drop off their stems without wilting and it's seen as a kind of metaphor for samurai ethics; Better to die quickly and with your good image intact than suffer the indignity of a prolonged wilting.

This I assume is a kind of adjacent meaning to "Pride/Honor" and "Unwavering elegance." And certainly that kind of fixation on the appearance of honor and dignity suites Byakuya's slavish devotion to law and propriety even at the cost of his wife's dying wishes, and indeed any pretense of familial obligation to Rukia as his adopted sister.

Gokurakuchou-ka[極楽鳥花]: Bird-of-paradise(Strelitzia reginae​)

pretentious love

to love a man concerned with his appearance

It took me a moment to really parse this. Most elaborations I found just danced around terms for a "fop" or a "dandy" in describing what I eventually boiled down to just "a man concerned with his appearance" so the particular tone of vanity was misleading. But I think the joke is just that Komamura hiding his wolf head under a series of masks and helmets does indeed count as "concern with appearance" just not in the otherwise implied flamboyant way.

Also the term "pretentious love" sort of fits with Tetsuzaemon's overwrought yakuza-like loyalty and deference to Komamura as his boss. It's not a simple modest devotion it's overplayed and loud and draped in pomp and ritual. He isn't just devoted in action, he has to give the express appearance of devotion as well.

every single time... I don't know why these two always tri me up. I even told myself when I was shuffling the images around, "remember you always screw up komamura and shunsui's flowers, so whatever your instinct is, remember to switch that." And apparently that means i actually had it right first and actively made it wrong

Well, in the very least this makes the various terms floating around like "dandy" and "fop" make much more direct sense, as Shunsui is very much a fashionable and frivolous personality when he's first introduced...

Ayame[菖蒲]: Siberian iris(Iris sanguinea)

good news

hope/desire/ambition/expectations

I dunno this feels weirdly absent of real relation to Kyoraku or even Nanao. I will come back to that "Hope/Desire..." one though. So stick a pin in that...

...However now I don't know what to make of the ayame in relation to Komamura.

(and of course people reblogged this before i could get around to correcting it, so likely no one will ever see this edit >:T)

Shiro Keshi[白罌粟]: White Poppyseed(Papaver somniferum)

thoughtfulness/consideration/compassion

pity/sympathy/understanding

death/sleep/forget/oblivion

I don't really know what to make of this... The specificity of White Poppy means the reading really should be "Death" or "Sleep" and I guess that kinda ties into Tousen losing his friend. But that feels like a stupidly loose connection. On the other hand the more general meaning of the poppy as "compassion/pity/sympathy" seems to match more of Tousen's actual relationships with his dead friend, with Komamura, and even to a lesser degree with Hisagi.

To "forget" or be lost in "oblivion" however feels like a very knowing and ominous point in the direction of Tousen having lost his way and forgotten himself in his quest for justice.

Suisen[水仙]: Daffodil(Narcissus tazetta)

esteem/respect/reverence

unrequited love

Another rather personal one. The general tone of Respect and Reverence and High Esteem could maybe refer to Hitsugaya's need to be taken seriously despite his age and stature, but that feels like loose and far too general fit at best. His unrequited love for Hinamori however suits this far better.

Nokogiri-sou[鋸草]: Siberian yarrow(Achillea sibirica)

to fight/to struggle

bravery/courage, but also healing/a cure/recovery

Obviously the "Fight" bit is super literal. Honestly that may be all there is to it though.

Azami[薊]: Japanese Thistle(Cirsium japonicum)

indepencence/separation

retaliation/revenge

strict/strern

not to be touched

I'm not actually so sure about this. The general theme of "sternness/strictness/discipline" I guess kind of fits? But I think the general kind of natural warning sign of "Do Not Touch" is really the best fit for both Mayuri and the department as a whole, although it feels oddly informal as a reading compared to the rest.

Matsuyuki-sou[待雪草]: Snowdrop(Galanthus nivalis)

relief/ease/comfort/solace

hope/desire/ambition/expectations

So the "Relief/Solace/etc..." bit certainly seems to fit Ukitake's demeanor as his terminal illness does indeed require him to frequently take an aside to lie down. But I was surprised to find that the "Hope/Desire/etc..." reading appeared here as well as with the Ayame, and I don't think it's coincidence that Kyoraku and Ukitake have matching themed flowers for their divisions.

Incidentally this also ties into Kaien as lt. since the Shiba name echos this same meaning of "Ambition".

Jinchou-ge[沈丁花]: Winter Daphne(Daphne odora)

Glory/Honor

Immortal/Indestructible/Eternal/Timeless

This one seems pretty obvious. "Glory" and "Indestructible" describe their reputation well enough, although they turned out to be far from indestructible, unfortunately.

It always kind of confused me that Kubo put their flower insignia inside the Gotei diamond, not only because they aren't supposed to be part of the gotei, but because it just seemed to break so many other design patterns... but then I realized that the only parts of the shinigami uniforms where the flowers are ever visible are on lt. badges(limiter stamps and the little sewn in tags being hidden) and there weren't any lieutenants in the royal guard.

Feels like a halfbaked idea to slap them on the coats just to make sure they show up somewhere, but then so was most of their introduction and role in the plot.

[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

(If it’s okay I want to do another for the ask game)

♒️☮️For Bucky Barnes please!

Of course it's okay! It actually means a lot that you took the time to send in another one 🥰 Thank you!

Bucky Barnes Food Headcannon:

Before becoming the Winter Soldier, Bucky loved food of all kinds but especially home-cooked foods. His family was decently well off so even during the height of the Great Depression, they still managed to put a full home-cooked meal on the table every night and Bucky– the growing boy that he was – never let any of it go to waste. But his favorite thing his mom made was her chocolate chip cookies. No one else made them just like hers (he always shared them with Steve even though he really wanted to keep them all for himself). 

After his time as the Winter Soldier though, food lost all pleasure for a long time. He had survived decades on tasteless gruel, liquid supplements, and injections so even once his mind was free again, his mind told him that food was for nothing more than nutrients and fuel— the taste or quality didn’t matter. So he would eat whatever he could while on the run, stealing most or using what little money he got to buy cheap food most other people wouldn’t eat. 

It was only by chance that he got his appreciation for food back. He had stolen a few things from the store earlier that day and was quickly eating his bounty as he tried to find a place to hide out for the night when he took a bite of the food in his hand and came to an abrupt halt as a memory hit him so strongly that he almost dropped to his knees. It was of a woman kissing the top of his head and handing him something warm and gooey, and the flavor exploded in his mouth as he took a bite of it. As the memory ended, Bucky looked down through tear-filled eyes at the bag of chocolate chip cookies in his hand. It was the first flashback he had had to his old life that involved part of his family. Wiping his eyes, he sat down on a curb next to where he was standing and slowly finished the bag of cookies. They were nowhere near as good as the ones in his memory, but it was close enough to trigger a few more memories of his mom. 

After that, Bucky slowly started to reappreciate the taste of food and remembered more of his favorites from before. Food was no longer just something to consume and move on, it was something to appreciate and enjoy.

Bucky Barnes Friends Headcannon:

Back in the 1940’s before getting shipped off to war, Bucky wasn’t exactly what you’d call a great friend. He was handsome and charming and he knew it. This often led him to forsake or ignore his friends so he could find the latest girl of the week. Usually, he didn’t do “relationships” but even when he did, his longest one was only for a month, and that was mainly because she was his boss’s daughter and he couldn’t figure out how to end things without getting fired. Eventually, the friends he did have wised up and stopped hanging out with him unless they wanted to use him as a wingman. However, even that ended after a few times when Bucky walked away with both of the girls in question. 

The only exception to Bucky’s flaky friendship was Steve. Bucky and Steve had already formed such a strong brotherly bond when Bucky hit his growth spurt and he began noticing how ladies looked at him that he would drop everything if Steve said the word, no matter what he was doing or who he was with. He tried to drag Steve out with him to look for girls but Steve almost always passed. After all, who would give him a second look when standing next to James Buchanan Barnes? 

However, once Bucky was captured, experimented on, and then rescued in Austria by the now super-soldier Steve, he was changed by his experience. While he still had some of his usual cockiness and bravado, he had also been humbled and his priorities shifted. Instead of turning his focus back to his next date, he threw himself headfirst into helping Steve and helped form the Howling Commandos. Soon, he developed extremely close bonds with the other Commandos and for the first time in a long time, he found himself having friends other than just Steve (but that would be shortlived).

Headcannon Meme

[archiveofkloss]

Karlie Kloss' lifestyle is shifting, one habit at a time. 

For years, the model and entrepreneur, 31, avoided lifting weights at the gym so she wouldn't bulk up. But today, she's found resistance training to be "an effective, important way to stay strong and lean and build muscle."

"I didn't think it was good for my body," she exclusively tells Women's Health in an interview about her partnership with Thorne. "There was always this myth that somebody put in our heads somewhere that like women aren't supposed to strength train, and that's absolutely false."

The same goes for her fueling her body: When she living out of a suitcase, Karlie felt like she "only ate snacks all the time," adding that she "didn't know where my next meal was gonna be." Now, she's become disciplined about her eating, noting that prioritizing three nutritious, filling meals a day has been a "game-changer."

The Kode With Klossy founder has become especially focused on her health after welcoming two kids (sons Levi, 3, and Elijah, 1, with husband Joshua Kushner) over the past three years. 

"I really recognize how much a woman's body goes through—not only through pregnancy, but also just getting older," she says. "I really am more aware of wanting to be strong and invest in things that are just going to make me feel better."

Ahead, here's everything to know about Karlie Kloss' diet and wellness routine, from her favorite meals to share with her children to her go-to sweet treat.

Breakfast is the most important meal of her day.

Karlie is trying to instill healthy habits with her sons from a young age, so she makes sure to start her day off right.

"We always sit down for breakfast when I'm home," she says. "To just sit down and have proper meal time—that is something that's also part of my wellness."

The family's favorite breakfasts include oatmeal with berries and pancakes made from banana, oats, almond flour, and chia seeds. If she's running out the door, Karlie will grab a chocolate shake made with Thorne whey protein.

Karlie typically eats the same lunches and dinners.

The Bedford Media CEO adds that she usually eats the same lunches and dinners day-to-day. "I'm so boring," she says. "I could eat the exact same thing every single day."

Since Karlie doesn't eat meat, she's a big fan of salmon—either grilled or with a ginger-soy marinade. She also loves to munch on eggs or Greek yogurt to get her proper dose of daily protein. 

"Protein has been a big, big focus for me as I get older and want to make sure I'm maintaining my strength and conditioning," she says.

She loves a sweet treat.

When it comes to indulgences, Karlie says she has a "total sweet tooth." Any kind of cookie—but especially chocolate chip—are her favorites.

"I dangerously live very close to a Levain Bakery in New York, and that's my go-to," she says.

She stays 'consistent' with her wellness routine.

In addition to fueling her body with lots of protein, Karlie prioritizes getting proper nutrients—even if it doesn't come from her diet. She's a big fan of Thorne's Memoractiv supplement to combat "mom brain fog," plus the brand's Basic B Complex to promote cellular energy.

"My kids keep me busy—my three-year-old gives me a run for my money, and my one-year-old is now just about to walk, so I'm chasing after them all day long," she says. "These [supplements] gives me peace of mind that I'll have the nutrients to make me feel good, both physically and mentally."

In addition to her daily regimen, Karlie likes to take a minute for herself, whether that's doing a quick meditation in the taxi on the way to work, doing a dance class at the New York City studio Forward__Space, or popping in her headphones for a brief run. 

"That makes all the difference in my day," she says.

[ridiasfangirlings]

K seem to have a lot of important stuff just later created or expanded through years worth of extra materials. If the K anime had been created after all of these things had been made instead of the other way around, how different do you think the anime's story would have been?

Less flashbacks in ROK, probably :/ One of things with K is I think they tried to make the side materials supplement the main anime story without being required in order to actually understand the anime, so I don't necessarily think they would have added a bunch of extra stuff to the anime if the anime had been made last. I do definitely think there would have been some streamlining and switches of focus in the story for both seasons though. Season one I definitely wonder if the show would have spent less time meandering at the school island with those characters and more with the Reds and Blues, since Homra and S4 are ultimately more important for the story as a whole.

I think S4's place in the narrative might have been altered somewhat too, at least to be less...sinister, I guess? I've mentioned before that I feel like they get much more of a villain treatment in the early part of season one and I wonder if we would have gotten less of things like Awashima discussing violating Mikoto's human rights or Fushimi looking vaguely unhinged if we had more characterization for them (the episode five Sarumi fight is particularly interesting as a possible point of change, because on the one hand LSW does explain his behavior there but on the other hand Gora walks it back a lot in all subsequent media, without having that moment there first I wonder if Fushimi would have been at least a little more gloomy and less yandere from the start if the side media had come first). I also imagine season one would have had more foreshadowing for the rest of the series, I definitely think we would have at least gotten Kotosaka talking to Colorless to give more of a hint as to who was behind all this. I personally would have liked them to add maybe a couple mentions here and there of the Gray King, even just saying he died in the Kagutsu Crater, just so we know that King exists and it feels a little more organic when Iwafune appears. Giving Zenjoh at least a cameo would have been nice too, again knowing that he'll be more important later.

Season two I could see the changes being largely what was done in the novelization, stuff like adding in an actual storyline for Neko that the anime just hinted at. I'm actually kinda curious about how the novelization came about versus the anime, if some of the additional bits in the novel were things Gora wanted to put into ROK but couldn't because they felt limited by runtime (and possibly budget, I wonder if episode ten in particular wasting time on flashbacks was GoHands being cheap). The stuff with Fushimi's 'betrayal' I think was also a lot stronger in the novelization, especially since the novelization actually bothers to make it clear that yes, Hisui and co know that Fushimi was once in S4 and yes they are actually suspicious of him because of that, which the anime was really frustratingly vague on. With the novelization being just completed I think that stands out pretty strongly as what Gora 'would have written' if they could when the anime aired, it still follows the same basics as the anime did but makes the story a lot stronger and spends a lot less time on filler, which was for me very much the weakest part of ROK.

[semper-legens]

59. Mr Burns: A Post-Electric Play, by Anne Washburne

Owned?: Yes Page count: 91 My summary: After. People huddle around a campfire, trying to remember an episode of the Simpsons. But this is no idyllic campsite. Something has happened, something that ravaged the world. The survivors are trying to pick up the pieces, keep what they remember alive. But culture warps and changes over word of mouth. What will remain of our world after the end? My rating: 5/5 My commentary:

Well, this is something new for this blog. A play! I know, I know, plays are better experienced than read, but a) as far as I know there are no currently-running stagings of this play and b) I supplemented reading the script with watching a version of the play staged by a group who posted it to YouTube, so I have seen an iteration of this. Anyway. Ever since I first heard about it some years ago, this play has deeply interested me. A couple of months ago, a YouTuber I really like posted a video essay about it, which inspired me both to watch it and to read through the play script. It's an odd play. Set shortly after, seven years after, then seventy five years after an unspecified apocalypse, the main thrust of the narrative concerns a small group of survivors attempting to remember the Cape Feare episode of the Simpsons. It turns from an idle pasttime to a paid performance to a ritualistic ceremony over the time periods, and warps and changes as the post-apocalyptic society does. And it was so good.

First of all, I'm in love with how this play is written. Standard sentences, punctuation, and capitalisation are eschewed in favour of a more naturalistic speech pattern that reminds me of how we had to transcribe interviews for English Language classes. Sentences are left unfinished and interjections and filler words are transcribed. It's odd to read on the page, at least at first, but that coupled with actually seeing the dialogue performed leads to a much more realistic flow. You don't just see what they say, you see how they say it, and that betrays some of the thought and motivation behind their actions. It's very slickly done.

Were I a smarter person (or, you know, Kyle Kallgren the aforementioned video essayist) the rest of this post would be devoted to a complex analysis of the play and what it has to say about memory, humanity, capitalism, and the things that will survive after the end. Alas, however, I am not a smarter person, but I shall try nonetheless. The choice to focus around the Simpsons is an intriguing one. The Simpsons, almost accidentally, have become an idealised family of a byegone age - even the show is now quick to point out that the kind of idealised suburbia in which the Simpsons live, where an unqualified man can get a solid union job that supports his entire family on one salary, is a thing of the past these days. For a group of ragged survivors living in the aftermath of a cataclysm, it's no wonder that sort of thing is comforting. And further - in Act Two, the largest part of their performance that we get to see is 'commercials', playacting advertising based around a comfortable, stereotypical middle-class existence. A far cry from bartering batteries for necessities.

The issue of power - as in, electrical - is also highlighted by the text. Batteries are exchanged for goods. Nuclear plants are left unattended and irradiate the land and the people, leaving large parts of America as no-go zones. Lighting in the play is done by natural (or faux-natural) sources; the flickering light of a TV set on an actor's face turns out to just be candles in the shell of the casing. It's something we take for granted here in the present, but it's a vital part of life as we know it. Electrical light is comfort, it's safety. It's stabler than fire - tamed, almost. Without it, we are quite literally shrouded in darkness. And yet, it is one thing that is lacking. And, in the case of the nuclear plants, our past reliance on power damns us. But it's Mr Burns himself who provides the largest embodiment of this theme. Despite not being much of a player in the actual Cape Feare, Mr Burns becomes the major antagonist of the future play, a murderous maniac bent on destroying the Simpsons. It bears repeating that we the audience don't know what ended this world. But capitalistic greed covers a lot of scenarios.

More than that, however, I really enjoyed how achingly human this play is. The first act is heartbreaking, with the survivors desperately trying to remember Cape Feare then being interrupted by the arrival of another survivor, one who opens the audience's eyes to just what has happened here. He is the one who brings in reports from the road, of other settlements…and the list of names. Everyone has a list that they recite, and everyone has a notebook filled with names and fates. It's never quite stated what the deal is, but it's clear that these are friends and loved ones who have disappeared. And the names in the books are those who are known. The name ritual is formal enough that it seems to be a custom in this new world - people wanting to know what happened, wanting closure. Closure that we the audience never get. We see these people, see their desperation and fear in Act Two, and then we hear gunshots and we don't know. It's a short amount of time, and a small window of characterisation. But all the same, we feel for these characters. We want them to be okay - want someone, anyone to be okay. We see ourselves in them. They're not special, not talented, not anything but a bunch of people from the old world making their way through the new. And there's just something special about that.

Next, back to the streets of Yharnam.

[five-or-so-missing-children]

//People argue a lot that the FNAF timeline should likely be split up, but it's today that I've been informed that some people think it split off later than I do, which is quite a surprise, but I realized they have a point.

//So...

//I think the FNAF timeline should be divided into three distinct timelines/arcs.

//Hear me out:

FNAF1 through FNAF4: What I'm gonna call the Haunted House Arc, because of how much of a human element it seems to lack. It does not give much to work with. There isn't much focus on the people themselves, just a very impersonal recounting of the tragic crimes that took place within the establishment's walls. As for the finer details, that's left up to the audience to decide for themselves, as "perhaps some things are best left forgotten". You're not getting any more information or definitive answers. You are a mere outside observer trying to solve a crime with more than half the pieces missing. Can you accept that, player? Should you really even be looking?

SisLoc + PizzaSim + UCN: Afton Family Arc. This arc also includes the original trilogy of books that were published shortly before SisLoc; after all, their canonicity was heavily disputed at the time. These games focus primarily on the Aftons and all the people who get caught up in their web. The tragedy here is more personal, a story of a deeply unhealthy family and interpersonal conflicts, rooted in the diabolical actions of one man. Jealousy, revenge, depression, heaven/hell... It's a little like a soup opera in that way, right?

Help Wanted 1/2 + SecBreach: Future Arc. These games introduce more sci-fi elements like sapient robots, mind-altering VR viruses, and X-ray vision. The conflict seems to be more focused on man vs. machine, as well as the blurred lines between the two. Afton isn't the villain anymore, he's just another example of those blurred lines. Is he still human, or is he a machine? Was he ever a human? Are the Glamrocks human? They can think, can't they? What about the Mimic and it's ability to pretend? What makes a machine, and what makes a human?

//What would this mean for the "true timeline"? My argument is I don't think there is one. FNAF is a franchise with writing that is objectively being pantsed and thrives off ambiguity to encourage speculation. The writing is NOT infallible.

//I think it's far healthier to break up the story into distinct parts that have similar themes/plot threads/release dates and analyze everything within that distinct chunk objectively/with the same lens, while every other game is only used to supplement the details within the arc.

//Like, you can use the previous or later games to construct a timeline with in an arc. If there is something said in FNAF3 that you think adds to the Afton Family Arc, it's a valid interpretation of canon and you can add it to your theory. However, if FNAF3 says something that contradicts it... whatever! Ignore it! FNAF3 is meant to be telling a different story! And if you try to construct one large timeline from FNAF unironically, you WILL be overwhelmed and can NEVER be truly correct.

//I'm willing to accept the argument that these lines are somewhat blurry. After all, I don't think FNAF was made with these sorts of divisions in mind. There was definitely a transition between each, and future installments always borrow from the past.

//Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.