#periferie

[aitan]

La libertà è avere i mezzi per costruire il proprio futuro senza dipendere dal politico o dal mammasantissima di turno.

Da aitanblog.wordpress.com/2024/09/26/la-liberta-delle-periferie

[sergiolautre]

Cianotipie immortali

[sardies]

Porto Torres tra i beneficiari del bando ministeriale “Sport e Periferie”

Porto Torres è fra i 62 comuni italiani beneficiari del bando ministeriale “Sport e Periferie”.  Lo hanno annunciato nel corso della Commissione Bilancio, convocata oggi nella sala consiliare del Palazzo del Municipio, l’assessore al Bilancio Alessandro Carta e l’assessora allo Sport e alle Politiche sociali Simona Fois. Il Dipartimento per lo Sport ha infatti pubblicato la nuova graduatoria dei…

[kilgarraghforever]

If I had a penny for every time spiderman, an American character, was played in the live action franchises by a British man I'd have 2 pennies, which isn't a lot but it's weird that it's happened twice.

[maybe-a-gatto-or-a-catto]

OH MY GOD I CAN'T TELL IF I'M DUMB OR NOT BUT. CAPITALISM IS WHITE. IT KEEPS THE POOR POOR, AND THAT'S COUNTRIES THAT WHITE COUNTRIES EXPLOIT.

Okay okay. So basically I learn geography in school. I am learning about the world economy and how colonialism affects the economy of certain countries depending on if they got exploited or invested in. Particularly, colonies that got invested in are the USA and Australia. They are considered "succesful" in the economy because they got invested in, instead of exploited.

But guys. The native people of those countries are oppressed. The whites took that land for themselves, and now those countries aren't associated with its native people. Capitalism is white. The world economy is WHITE!! GUYUUYS!!!!

Anyway what is the conclusion? I don't know. I feel like I was cooking something but I don't have enough knowledge ...

[thepictoblr]

Turns out the reason why black mage artifact gear in ffxiv tends to have those big ass wizard hats is because the hats are designed to absorb ambient aether for more effective and powerful casting. In other news- this is the black mage meta in lore

[pastelfarvet]

I dag er det 2 år siden jeg sidst så min eks. What the fuck

[nicocastellini]

LE PERIFERIE AL MANDELA

ARRIVO APS organizza la presentazione della rivista Le Periferie #16 e del libro collettivo Racconti Raccolti. Saremo ospiti speciali del ristorante Mandela. L’evento si inserisce nella rassegna culturale FOGLIE D’AUTUNNO del Comune di Perugia. Ingresso libero e gradita prenotazione al 347 900 3454.

[pier-carlo-universe]

"La Guerra del Tiburtino III": Su Sky Cinema la Nuova Serie tra Azione e Satira Sociale

Un racconto ironico e spietato delle faide di quartiere che mescola umorismo nero e critica sociale

Un racconto ironico e spietato delle faide di quartiere che mescola umorismo nero e critica sociale. Sky Cinema presenta “La Guerra del Tiburtino III”, una nuova serie italiana che unisce azione, satira sociale e umorismo nero in una trama ambientata nella periferia romana. La serie esplora le rivalità di quartiere e le dinamiche di potere all’interno di una comunità in un modo fresco e…

[la-renna-della-jungla]

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Siamo un milione di gocce Solo gocce

[marcogiovenale]

da oggi al 16 giugno, a roma: iper_ festival delle periferie, al mattatoio

programma: https://www.facebook.com/events/s/iper-festival-024-hic-sunt-leo/828666505791709

[iannozzigiuseppe]

"Il Budda delle periferie" di Hanif Kureishi - Traduzione di Ivan Cotroneo, introduzione di Zadie Smith

Il Budda delle periferie Hanif Kureishi Bompiani   “Così cominciò la nostra relazione sessuale. E io ne rimasi completamente sconvolto; non avevo mai provato prima sensazioni ed emozioni così forti. Avrei voluto gridare a tutti che si poteva vivere perennemente con un fuoco liquido nelle vene.” Praticamente, si tratta di un compleanno di quelli importanti. Sono passati venticinque anni da quando…

[disabilicom]

10 milioni di euro saranno destinati a progetti di promozione dell’inclusione sociale delle persone disabili nelle periferie delle grandi città

[writingsbytee]

HIDDEN PT. 2

TERRY RICHMOND x BLACK FEM READER

WARNINGS / TRIGGERS: SFW; minors do not interact; mentions of domestic violence; self-hate; angst; Terry is hard to read in the beginning.

SUMMARY: You’ve been working at Terry’s club for about a week now and you’re finally getting the hang of things. There might be a little jealous Terry in here if you squint. This “chapter” might be dialogue heavy. No Smut (yet!)

TROPES: grumpy x sunshine ; “touch her and die”; slow burn; 

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Okaaay!! Part 2 is now available!! I hope you guys enjoy it. I’m really trying to work on my dialogue skills and some world building so bare with me. The SMUT will come soon, I just want you guys to get to know my version of Terry and Daphne.

WORD COUNT: 2.4K

PREVIOUSLY ON HIDDEN: 1

DAPHNE

“Girl! I see why you never left this job! The tips alone are enough to cover rent this month,” I said looking at the wad I already had in my mini apron. 

Lexi nodded, “See, what did I say? You won’t have to go back to the hospital for a while.” I contemplated the idea, sure the break from the physically, mentally, and emotionally draining job is nice. But, helping people, caring for them, that’s my passion. I’ll go back when I’m ready. As I wait for Lexi to make the next round of drinks for the police commissioner’s table, I turn and take in my surroundings.

The club is so unique. With a sunken lounge area and the circular light fixtures it almost has a 60s vibe. But with the seductive lighting and R&B playing it feels like a jazz club. Lexi slides the finished tray of drinks my way and I head towards the commissioner’s table. 

“Our favorite girl is back!” one of them shouted. They were all very close to being drunk, the drinks in my hand should do the job. 

“That’s me!” I said with my million dollar smile. I could already tell what kind of men I was dealing with, pretty boys who never heard the word ‘no’. I place all their drinks down and ask them if there’s anything else I can get them. 

“Aww c’mon leaving so soon? Stay and chat with us for a little while,” one of the men said. I huffed out a fake laugh, “I wish, but I’ve got to finish up my training”. They all boo’d in protest, but I just shrugged my shoulders and backed away. Breathing a sigh of relief I make my way back towards Lexi.

“Ouu girl, they like you,” she said laughing at me, 

I rolled my eyes, “I don’t wanna hear shit when the car is gassed up and the fridge is full. If they keep tipping me like this they can like me all they want,” i said cleaning off the counter. The lights started to dim as someone walked on stage. Out of my periferie I see Terry’s office door open. 

“Oop there go your man,” Lexi whispers in my direction. I huff out an annoyed breath, “Stop calling him that! What if someone hears you!” I whisper-shout, throwing my rag at her. Okay, so I might've developed a teeny-tiny crush on Terry. I don’t know how anyone can look at that man and not get swept up in his beauty. I keep it professional obviously, and it’s not even like he notices. Terry’s barely said two words to me since I started here. I sneak a peek at Terry over my shoulder and I feel my canine sink into my lower lip as I take in his attire.  

Dressed in a simple black long sleeve and matching black cargos and timberland boots. With the gold mini cuban link chain and glasses to top the look off, he’s any woman’s wet dream.

“Damn, Daphne could you be any more obvious?” Lexi asked, laughing at me. 

“Oh, shut up! Look at him, he’s too fine for his own good” I whisper, turning back toward my sister. I feel like a high school girl with a crush. I need to get a grip, fast. I grabbed the ice bucket, heading to the back to fill it up. I need to put some distance between myself and the green-eyed giant. I’ve only been working here about a week and I feel like I’m finally getting a hang of things. I bring the ice out and make my way over to my side of the bar. 

Eli, the police commissioner’s son, has become one of my regulars. After his dad leaves Eli usually stays to hit on whoever is within earshot. Tonight it looks like that’s me, “There she is!” he shouted, eyes low in his liquor induced haze. 

“Someone needs to get cut off I see,” I say, chuckling at Eli’s dopey grin. He groans, “Aww c’mon baaaby. Don’t b-be like that.” Eli reaches for my hand to grab my attention. Before he could open his mouth, the deep, sexy voice of my boss cuts him off.

“Eli quit harassing my staff before I cut you off,” Terry says, sliding into the seat next to Eli. 

“Don’t worry ‘bout it T-man! It’s allllll good,” Eli said, his words starting to blend together.

“Annnd, you’re cut off. Eli give me your phone so I can get you an Uber,”I say, making grabby hands at Eli. He smirks peering over at Terry who looks like he’d rather be anywhere but here. “See, told you she wanted me,” he said, nudging his elbow into Terry’s ribs. I roll my eyes not wanting to satisfy him with a response. Eli’s cute, don't get me wrong, but I’m just not interested.

“Actually someone’s coming to relieve you Daphne, I need you in the back,” Terry says leaning up on the counter. My eyes widened as I looked over at Terry. He just smirks and nods his head toward the door marked ‘employees only’. I nod before wiping my hands off on my pants and head towards that door. I glance over my shoulder to see Terry whisper something in Eli’s ear before he makes his way toward me. 

“Ready for your first assignment?” Terry asks as he makes his way to me. 

A dry chuckle leaves my mouth, “Will it be worse than that?” I ask, pointing my thumb in Eli’s direction. 

Terry’s shoulders shake with quiet laughter, “I hope not, here, c’mon they’re right through here”

I knew Terry was serious about using my medical side to help him out, I just didn’t think it’d be so soon. My mind blanks as I try to shift my focus to that of a 3 year trauma/ICU nurse. Not knowing what I’m walking into I take off my rings and bracelets as we enter the door. Terry leads me down what appears to be basement stairs and then leads me to another door. Before we go in he turns to me standing shoulder-width apart with his hands crossed in his front (REFERENCE).

s it just me or did it get ten degrees hotter in here?

“This kind of goes without saying but, you don’t say anything about what goes on behind this door,” Terry said.

With a nod of my head I say, “Of course not, now let’s see what I’ve gotten myself into yea?”

TERRY

“Gunshot wounds!? Terry, what do you expect me to do with this?!” Daphne asked, examining the semi-conscious man laying on the table. I watched carefully as she threw her locs up in a messy bun and went to work on her “patient”.

“They’re just flesh wounds, mostly just need patching up. You can do that right sweetheart?” I ask leaning back against the door. She rolls her eyes and mumbles out a ‘yeah’. That eye rolling shit is really starting to get on my nerves with how much it turns me on. 

“What kind of supplies do you have?” She asks looking over at me. 

I move to a storage closet on my right and open the door for her, “In here is everything you should need.”  I grab a cart containing multiple drawers with the supplies she might need (reference). Once I wheel it over to her she pauses and looks at the cart then me. 

“This is a hospital grade crash cart,” Daphne said, raising a brow at me. Damn, she’s pretty when she does that too. 

I nod slowly, “Yes, yes it is. I figured how can I ask you to do a job without the proper equipment.”

She lets out a disbelieving chuckle, “How’d you get all this? And can you get it restocked when I’m done with him?”

“Well I can’t really tell you how I got everything, let’s just say everything has its price. I’ll have it restocked before you have to do this again”, I say. 

Daphne just nods and takes a deep breath before heading to the sink, “Well, I’m going to need an extra hand in here. Do you have time or can you send someone else in here?”

“I’ll stay,” I reply with a shrug. She flashes me a small smile before instructing me to wash my hands in the sink. Once I finish I saddle up beside her and wait for instructions. Daphne hands me a pair of gloves instructing me to put them on. 

“Do you have any medical training?”Daphne asks as she puts a stethoscope to Paul’s (gunshot victim) chest. 

“Basic CPR and some shit I had to do in the field,” I say checking Paul’s heart rate 

“What branch?” 

“Who said I was military?” I ask, smirking at her. 

“Terry, be serious, look at how you stand, how you always sit facing the door, and how you talk. Let’s just say it wasn’t that hard for me to tell. Hand me that syringe that says ‘Morphine’ please,” she smiled at me sweetly, pointing at the aforementioned syringe.

I feel my smirk widen against my will, “You’ve been watching me?” I ask, passing her the syringe. 

She rolls her eyes yet again, “Oh don’t flatter yourself. I spent over a decade in healthcare. 25% of those people are from military backgrounds.” 

“So who was it? Mom or Dad?” I ask, holding pressure on Paul’s wound while she places an IV. 

“Huh?”, she asks, not looking up from her task. I can admire the way her nose scrunches and she bites her lip as she works through her task.

“Who was in the military? Your mom or your Dad?” I ask again. 

Daph lets out a small giggle, “What gave it away?” 

I clear my throat and her eyes meet mine. I move my index finger back and forth pointing at me then her, “Same recognizes same, sweetheart.” She huffs out another small laugh before focusing back in. I’m thinking of one thing and one thing only as we work in comfortable silence, patching Paul up. I need to make her laugh again. 

“My mom, she was in the Navy. She was the best,”I say reaching for my locket that had her picture in it. 

Terry nods before looking at me, “I’m sure she was sweetheart. I’m sorry you lost her so soon”. He’s got the prettiest eyes. They’re so expressive I feel like he’s saying more to me with just a look than he ever could with words. 

2.5 HOURS LATER

DAPHNE

When Terry and I exit the basement his club is empty.  “That was good work in there Daph,” Terry said, eyeing me appreciatively. 

“Well it was a simple plug and patch like you said, you probably could’ve done it,” I say, rubbing my hand against the back of my neck. 

Terry takes a step toward me, “You sore?”

“Yeah a tiny bit, it’s been a while since I had to do that. I’ll be fine,” I say, straightening my spine and shifting my hips from side to side. 

“Here let me,” Terry moved behind me, placing his hands at the base of my neck. My spine straightened like a stick was shoved straight up my ass. He starts to knead the stiff muscles in my neck and I feel my shoulders start to slump. He continues to knead and massage the back of my neck. I don’t even notice that I’m leaning back against him.

“Mmm that feels nice,” I say, leaning my hand to the side. He’s so close I can feel his exhale against my neck, I know he can see the goosebumps. 

“Yeah?” he says. I don’t know if I’m imagining it or not but it feels like his lips brush my neck. Before I can say anything else, there’s a knock on the door. I can feel Terry tense up behind me, like somebody poured a bucket of ice water down his back.  

“Go to the back, get your stuff, and leave,” Terry said, taking a step back from me like I burned him. My mind was reeling, I just silently nodded and turned to make my way back to the locker room. Who was at the door that made him shift his whole persona? I’m putting all my shit in my tote back when I hear my phone ring from somewhere inside it. Once I find it I tap the green button putting the phone up to my ear.

“Hey Lex, I’m about to leave now,” I say, slinging my bag over my shoulder. 

“Perfect, I got a ride from Princess. I put my keys in your coat pocket so you wouldn’t have to Uber by yourself this late,” my oh so considerate sister says. 

“You’re too good to me. Dinner on me tomorrow, “ I say, finding the keys she mentioned. Lexi and I yap for a few minutes before we say our goodbyes. Leaving the locker room I bump right into Terry.

“Oh! Sorry didn’t see you there,” I hate how awkward and strained my voice sounds. Terry’s eyes are unreadable as he looks through me. 

“Time to go, I’ll walk you out,” he said then abruptly turned and started down the hallway. 

“What the fuck?” I mumble to myself. I know we aren’t best friends or anything, but I thought that Terry and I were at least breaking down that wall ‘boss/ employee’ relationship between us. I thought we could at least have some sort of civility toward one another. I follow him out towards the main floor of the club and make my way towards the door. There’s a group of men sitting in the center of the club, they all look hella shady. I pick up my pace a little bit so I can get the hell out of there. 

“Daphne?,” I hear as I walk past the table. I look up toward the voice and my blood runs cold. What the fuck is Rafa’s brother doing here?

AUTHOR'S NOTE:  okay, okay. I know this one is short but the next one will be longer I promise. I kind of just wanted to focus on a little bit of character building because this is going to be a series. Let me know what you guys think! 

TAGLIST: 

@blackgurlnhermoods @dxddykenn @kianaleani @pinkkycherrish @shallipii @greatpandagladiator-blog @skyesthebomb @gg-trini @megamindsecretlair @melalsworld @nayaesworld @theereina @shallipii @mogul93 @onherereading @blyffe @earthchica @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @kimuzostar @pocketsizedpanther @kumkaniudaku @mymindisneverhere @ms-mosley-ifunastyyy @uzumaki-rebellion

DIVIDER: @cxrrodedcoffin

[crazy-so-na-sega]

Milano, la “banlieue” di Corvetto

Sono stati i Carabinieri. Basta un attimo a trasformare un quartiere in un’esplosione di rabbia. Una “rabbia spontanea”, come dice Il Corriere della Sera, che però sembra più che altro indotta, voluta, cercata. Indotta dal “Sistema per uccidere i popoli“, come lo definì Guillaume Faye, d’altronde “come designare questa vasta impresa planetaria di massificazione e spersonalizzazione?“. Voluta dagli sponsor del villaggio globale, da quella società liberale che si persuade di aver costruito un mondo di prosperità, di liberazione e di progresso mentre la realtà sociale lascia trasparire un ambiente anorganico: morto, senza vita interiore, più simile ad un macchinario che ad un organismo in crescita. Cercata da loro, i “maranza”, i “subalterni” – come li chiamano a sinistra della sinistra – gli agenti attivi di un dinamismo conflittuale che esiste schiacciato dentro i quartieri pentola, sempre pronta ad esplodere appena tolto il coperchio del quieto vivere. Sono anni che si ripete come anche le periferie italiane – in questo caso milanesi – possano diventare da un momento all’altro lo scenario delle banlieue parigine. Quelle dell’Odio e di Athena. Quelle che abbiamo visto solo in televisione. L’integrazione tanto agognata è finalmente realtà, con un ribaltone però: l’Italia si è adattata all’altro, non il contrario. Abbiamo uomini che occupano spazi morti, residenti che si situano su una scacchiera; il loro “indirizzo” non ha nulla di un luogo, sono piuttosto coordinate cartesiane dello smarrimento. Città dormitorio perennemente in affitto, centri storici trasformati in bomboniere turistiche, quartieri campi profughi. Ci siamo integrati perfettamente al non-luogo globale. E come tutti i popoli “delocalizzati” che hanno perduto il senso del tempo e della storia, siamo condannati a perdere la nostra terra. Un Corvetto alla volta.

-Kulturaeuropa

[drowninginblox]

Online After Hours...

Pt: 1, 2

Kurt felt his phone buzz just a few minutes before his class. At the time, he didn't pay it any mind, Ororo just said she was covering Y/n's class and to not bother her until after 6. Fine by him. So he continued on with his day. He wasn't worried until Logan of all people texted him asking what was going on a few minutes before lunch. He assumed that lunch period would be the two of them hanging out, not Logan acting uncharacteristically nosey about his relationship with Y/n.

"Listen here bub- you were the last to talk to them, what's going on?" Kurt put his hands up. "I have no idea mein freund! They were fine until they weren't!" Logan just stared at him. "Kurt," Kurt raised a brow. Logan never used his real name unless he was pissed or it was serious. "When was the last time Y/n took a full sick day?"

Kurt's eyes widened a little before his brows furrowed. He leaned back in his seat as he tried to think of a time when that was the case. "They've taken sick days-" "Half days." someone corrected behind them. Logan smirked a little, Kurt looked up to see Scott looming over the conversation. "Y/n has never taken a full sick day. It's always been half days." Logan nods from Kurt's perifery. "Y/n insists they're fine until either class is up or we hassle them. Stubborn kid." Logan agrees. Kurt looks at him "Seit wann sind sie ein großer fan von ihr?" He mumbles. Logan scoffs, leaning onto the table as he does. "Do not change the subject. What did you do, furball?" Kurt glances up at Scott for any defense but he's crossing his arms, presumably waiting for an answer for himself. He glances between the two before sighing. "I-I don't know." He admits. "We were just joking like usual and... the next thing I know they're telling me they feel sick. I asked them if I'd done something wrong but they said it wasn't me. Ich weiß es nicht. I honestly have no idea." Scott sighs from above. "What were you two joking about?"

Kurt looks at him, confused. "What- nothing?" Scott leans down on Kurt's chair, holding onto the back of it for support. "Kurt." Kurt glances at Logan, who looks moments away from showing his claws. "Okay okay! Honestly, it was nothing too serious!" He takes out his phone and pulls up a screenshot of the original post. "I learned recently about the amount of fans I had-" Logan groans. "And I look through them to see how crazy they can get. It's funny sometimes, how diluted they are. I pray for them." Scott holds the bridge of his nose. "Are you serious?" Scott of all people growls. Logan crosses his arms and leans back into his chair only to take out a cigar when he sees Kurt try to defend himself. "Me and y/n laugh about them all the time. It's only the really crazy ones! Like the ones that think they genuinely have a chance and know me!" Scott takes out his hand. "Show me." Kurt raises a brow. "Are you sure? This one-" "Give it." He growls. Kurt hands it over and raises his hands in defeat. "Okay okay- don't tell me I didn't warn you."

Scott glosses through it. Although the glasses obscure his eyes, the fact that he leans into the screen is enough of a tell. "Oh... Kurt." He looks at him, his mouth slightly open. Logan perks. "What is it?" Scott glances between Kurt and Logan before tossing the phone to Logan. In a stroke of divine intervention, Kurt isn't fast enough to intercept. Logan catches it and reads. He furrows his brows. "Is this?" Scott stares at him, nodding ever so slightly. Logan smiles cockily at Kurt in between drags from his cigar. "You are so fucked." Kurt looks between the both of them, more confused than before. "What? What is it?" Logan slides the phone across the table. Scott looks at Logan knowingly. "Jean wants to talk to us after dinner." Logan's brows shoot up "'Bout-" Scott smirks "Yes."

Logan slowly smiles before looking back at Kurt. "Good luck furball," He says while getting up. Scot clasps Kurt's shoulder, making him jump in his chair. "You're gonna need it." Scott finished. The pair walk out of the teacher's lounge together, the impending scolding of Logan's smoking habits echoing through the halls while Kurt is left in the dust of what they might have meant. He looks back at the picture, staring at it for a moment before noticing the username. It seems familiar... somehow. "Kurt!" Someone shouts from down the hall making him jump in his seat for the second time today. He turns to see his sister Rouge. "The hell did you do to my girl?"

If he could pale- Kurt would. "Marie- I can explain-" But she was already rearing for a fight. She lurches at Kurt, who immediately teleports to a portion of the ceiling. "Hör zu, Marie! Listen! I can explain-!" He damn near begs, shaking when he sees the rage burning in her eyes."Get your furry ass down here and get your lumps!" He squeaks and teleports out of fear into the hall. "KURTIS!!!" Rouge wails from somewhere else in the mansion, far enough away where Kurt can breathe though. Breathe and think. He takes out his phone and starts to walk. Where? Anywhere.

As he walks he looks over the screenshot. He's read this thing multiple times. What is so special about it? He groans, closing his eyes and racking his brain as to how this might have upset Y/n. It's not like it's th-

He opens his eyes, looking back at the screenshot. It can't be them- "Oi! Furball!" He turns to see Gambit striding down the hall, cards in hand. Kurt makes a noise somewhere between fear and screwed. "Oh ChER!" Gambit calls loud enough for Rouge to hear as he throws a card Kurt's way. Kurt manages to dodge just moments before it explodes mid-air, the impact sending him to the floor. "Remi- I know you two might as well be brother and sister but-" Gambit throws three more cards his way. "Sit your ass down, mon ami." Kurt bmft's further down the hall only to hear the battle cry of a pissed-off best friend. "KURTIS!" Kurt turns to see Rouge flying around the corner. With nowhere else to go, he bmft's to his room, praying no one breaks down the door after he locks it and puts a chair in front of it.

Once he feels he is... oh who is he kidding he won't be safe from his sister's wrath. He only sighs, holding his hands to his head as he paces. Thoughts race through his head. It can't be them, it just can't be. If it were them.... he..

He slumps as the implication and the following realization hits him. His phone buzzes with enraged messages from half the team but all he can do is pull up that damn screenshot. He reads through it again, and again, and again. Just like that night.

When he found the post, he was scrolling through Tumblr. He told you that he was looking at the weirdos- at one point it was. But as he lingered on the shitty site night after night, he found himself fascinated with the absolute creatures that inhabit this hellscape. The fantastic artists, the writers that genuinely do have talent but somehow dedicate it to Wolverine and him kissing for some reason, the inside jokes, the history, the seemingly daily celebrations of the weirdest and most beautiful things this world has to offer- it's wonderful. Scary, but wonderful! In a way, he made it his main social media. Reblogging, liking, laughing, and learning about all the things these people think in the dead of night while his laptop died.

When he saw the post, he was looking through the Nightcrawler tag. Not to make fun of anyone. He's honestly desensitized to the amount of ways people wished he would use his tail. He was looking for a confidence boost. TikTok had thurst traps, Instagram had art, and BlueSky was mostly Portugees- but Tumblr- Tumblr had genuine flattery in the form of fanfiction, absentminded thoughts, well-thought art, and active conversation in notes...

Horniess aside- it was nice on days when he lingered in the mirror, contemplating his singularity.

When he found your post, he thought it was touching. As touching as a fan could be to a celebrity of course.

In the way, it was realistic but endearing. The writer knew they didn't have a chance with him, which was nice. Anytime he saw someone seriously understand that; he gave them kudos. But the more he read the more he felt... understood? Like- he's not the kind to lead someone on out of desperation for a partner, he's not cruel. But at the same time, the wholesome thoughts that this person held toward him were... nice. Romantic even. These thoughts that he himself considered whenever he thought about what he would look like if he passed as human... Thoughts of what it would be like to be like anyone else. To be unabashedly kissed, to hold hands without worrying about the 3 to 5 ratio of fingers, to dance with anyone without the pretense of them being understanding of him sticking out like a sore thumb. He read it. Multiple times.

In a way, it gave him hope that someone like this... someone who wished for things like this without the pretense of idolization, was real. Was obtainable. He thought about printing it out, but the printer was a public thing. He would rather die than chance someone see it. He thought about following. He thought about DMing the person behind this- posing as a fan. But he always talked himself out of it. If that person even had an inkling that it was him- It would be over. So... he just screenshot, favorited the photo, and just... looked at it whenever he felt alone.

When he showed it to you, it was because he saw you change. Not for the bad- you were amazing! You glowed or something. It was like you were given the meaning of life or you figured out the cure for cancer- you were so happy. Confident. Everyone could see and everyone loved it. He just wanted a reason to joke with you and... the post was a little cheesy so...

But now, in his room. Alone, afraid, and absolutely ashamed... all he wanted to do was take it all back. If he knew you felt this way... "Was habe ich getan?"

The gravity of the situation made him curl to the floor, the cold floor was what he deserved. He wrapped his arms around his folded legs and hid in his knees. His tail curled instinctively around himself, looping up his ankle. He wanted to yell, scream, beg, but he didn't deserve that. So instead, he wept. Not for him, he doesn't deserve that either

. But for you. You- the one person other than Rouge, he felt comfortable enough with to hold him. When he felt ugly or lost, it was you who swooped down like an angel- assuring him that he was beautiful and amazing. You- who aided and covered for him every time he was overwhelmed with work after missions. You- who by all means deserves love- set him up with people you felt would mesh with him. When you were right there- waiting in the wings. "Ich bin so dumm… Gott… erschlag mich für meine Sünde gegen sie, bitte. Bitte… Bitte, Gott… Ich bin nur ein dummer Kobold. Sie sind ein Engel und doch lieben sie mich… und ich habe alles weggeworfen, ohne es zu wissen…" he weeped.

A hand clasped at the crucifix around his neck.

"Himmlischer Vater, gib mir die Kraft, alle meine Fehler zu korrigieren. Und lass mich Buße tun, um meine Sünden gegen sie wiedergutzumachen." He looked up to the open air. "Gott, ich weiß, ich verdiene sie nicht, aber bitte nimm mir diesen Engel nicht weg. Du weißt, dass ich fromm bin. Du weißt, ich lebe für dich, aber Gott… ich lebe auch für sie. Ich liebe sie mehr als Eva den Apfel. Ich liebe sie wie die Sterne am Himmel… Ich liebe sie mehr als… nein…" He closes his eyes. "She cant love me after this..." He lays his head back on the floor while the pool of his tears grew.

If only he knew you heard his prayers.