#the only friend I had near me who realistically had a means to help me stopped talking to me entirely so lol

[evilandcrazygirl]

does anyone have any advice on getting out of shitty shitty abusive situation when u have like zero community around u like no where to realistically go…like the plan for the time being is suffer through until I graduate and then go for a masters out of state and basically go no contact, but definitely the sooner I get out the better, but I’m financially dependent on them

[amoeganism]

HIT BRAKE! sae itoshi

(Sae needs to practice his goals and you… driving)

~3.8k words, humor, fluff, angst if you grab a magnifying glass, use of soccer instead of football (i have too much pride to do that), theyre so polar opposite they unfortunately come full circle and match each others freak

Sae Itoshi returned to Japan with several new things under his belt:

The ability to speak spanish (although his grammar structure can use some help from time to time)

An insane growth spurt

Probably shell shock syndrome

And the scariest new update to a chronic Resting Bitch Face that you had the displeasure of seeing thrown your way when you accidentally ran over his ball driving home. Maybe this is why most Japanese people rely on public transport instead of using their licenses

TWO was the number of times you had failed your driver’s test. Yes, you could always use the bus or ask your friends for a ride, but college doesn’t start for another few weeks and you’re determined by pure stubbornness to be driver certified before starting school. You think you’re doing pretty good so far: no accidents, no being pulled over, no getting cursed, and no one loudly complaining about your skills (no one has trusted you to drive them). The only thing you had left to master was parallel parking. 

It was a legacy in your family to be horrible at city parking.

One of your earliest memories was in the backseat of a rental car in a foreign country while your mother tried to park on the side of the street, only to get honked at by cars and drive against the flow of vehicles in a one-way zone. 

A bag of groceries lie in the trunk of your car as you drive to your family’s home. Humming along to the song softly playing through the radio, you slow down as you near the residential area, confident that this drive will end without a single thing gone wrong. Without speaking, you jinx your thoughts as you jolt when your car goes over a bump and a loud wheeze follows it. Turning your head to the side, your entire body freezes and your eyes go wide upon seeing the pissed off glare of Sae Itoshi, the infamous Japanese soccer player who just returned from Spain with a sexy tan.

With a shaky hand, you roll down your window and immediately start tumbling over your rushed apologies. You don’t even understand what you’re saying but you hope that Itoshi somehow understands. When he doesn’t react, which is what you expected but it hurts nonetheless, you immediately shut up and tumble out of your car before getting on your knees and seeing what you ran over. 

Your hand reaches and pulls out a deflated soccer ball, the entire thing flat with a large hole on the side from when it got run over by your car. You almost feel inclined to inflate it with the tears that are about to spill out of your eyes but the only realistic and socially acceptable choice was to give it to Itoshi and once again, apologize but with words that he and the average person can understand. 

Itoshi mumbles a “it’s okay” before taking the ball (can you even call it that?) a once-over. “I have more at home, I’ll just throw it out.”

“Holy shit I’m so sorry about that I can buy you a new one just please don’t sue me I can’t afford a good lawyer, I’m in student loan debt.”

“...why would I sue you?” he asks, his face slightly scrunched up in confusion. It’s not much different from his normal expression, just a slight crease of his brows but it makes all the difference.

“I didn’t mean to assume that you’re gonna sue me, please don’t sue me for assuming!” You think that you should begin to pack your bags and take out a loan to move to another country. It would be easier to be a criminal than to deal with a conversation with a guy who multiplies your humiliation. “I just thought that you might get your super prestigious and rich and wealthy and prosperous and exquisitely-copious-in-currency soccer team on my ass ‘cause I ran over one of their balls,” you nervously rambled. Your face heats up at every word and one Itoshi divides into two Itoshis and two Itoshis split into four.

“Are you schizophrenic? I thought you were normal back in middle school,” sixty-eight Itoshis say in unison.

Your body freezes, the now one hundred twenty-eight Itoshis all morphing back into one. “Wait, we went to middle school together?”

“Uh, yeah,” he blinks, this time looking even more awkward than you. “We were in the same class for two years straight and I sat next to you the semester before I left. I think I would remember the kid who slept through each period but still got all the answers right when called on.”

“Oh!” You perk up at the recollection of a scrawny red-haired boy from five years ago, one who would try to not-so-discreetly look at your worksheet answers and peek at your notes during class. “You’re the boy who would always copy off my work. I do remember you!”

“Is that all you remember about me?” If Itoshi were any other person, you’d say he looked uncomfortable but all he did was tilt his head a little more to the left and shift on his feet. 

“I mean, the only reason why you remember me is ‘cause I saved your academics without even knowing. Don’t think I didn’t hear our teacher whispering ‘good job’ to you while returning our tests and how you suddenly moved up in our class rankings.”

“Well you didn’t bother to hide anything when you were snoozing away so whose fault really is it?”

“You were gonna leave for Spain, anyway!” you point out, remembering being pissed off when hearing the reason why your seatmate left was because he was some kind of sport prodigy, basically having his entire future as a star secured at the age of thirteen.

“My parents would’ve killed me and held me by my feet if I flunked.” Itoshi grimaced, kissing his teeth and brushing his hair back as it had fallen over his eyes. His cheeks had returned to its usual color, removing the red flush of running and exhaustion.

“Huh, I guess I should be credited for your success. Spain should thank me.”

“Are we forgetting that I’m the one who plays the sport?” Sae’s voice came out harsher than he intended and cut through the playful atmosphere by the first syllable. His demeanor appeared unchanged but he felt himself tense. 

Conversation had never been strong for Sae, only ever talking when he needed to and the most of his words going to his teammates on the field or his little brother. His success was a sensitive subject whether he liked to admit it or not. Spain served as an eye-opener to the teenage boy, being left in a country where no one looked like you and no one spoke your language. The only thing he could rely on was a translator he barely trusted and the expressions of the people around him. 

When you don’t respond, Sae observes your face, noticing how you began to fidget with your fingers just as you had when you first stepped out of the car. You weren’t his previous coaches; you were just a former classmate who he happened to run into, or rather, you drove into. It was too late to laugh and he felt slightly guilty at freaking out someone that wasn’t his brother, an opponent, or a bothersome news anchor. 

“If you want to repay me for the ball, meet me at the sports store nearby.”

“Sorry, but I don’t really know where you’re talking about,” you sheepishly reply, wanting to sink more into the ground with every word. You decide that talking to athletes is more tiring than playing an actual sport.

“Give me your number, I’ll send you the address.”

You hand him your phone, hoping he doesn’t comment on the horrendously cracked screen protector that you had been telling yourself to replace for months. At the same time, you also want him to notice the small possibility of him offering to buy you a new one, taking advantage of rich people or whatever. “I can pick you up if you don’t mind.”

“Should I trust you to drive me?” he asks, carefully looking between you and your car with his turquoise eyes as if analyzing his opponents on a field, only, this was a residential street and the only other player was a balding middle aged man walking his dog. 

“I mean, you’ll be my first passenger so you can find out for everyone else.”

“If I get into an accident I’ll sue you for real.”

“I’ll try not to, I don’t have a job anymore and I’m going to college soon so even if I do please be merciful I swear I have good intentions.”

“Pick me up tomorrow at 11 and I’ll give you a review,” he decides, handing over his phone with the contact ‘Sae Itoshi’ at the top of your phone and the name of a sports store sent to your conversation. You ponder for a moment about asking for a contact picture but you’d like to stay alive for at least one more day so you bid him farewell and sit back in the driver’s seat, hoping he doesn’t hate your taste in music when you turn the radio back on.

—

The Itoshi residence is rather normal, differing from your expectation of a lavish mansion with fountains and fences of gold, given that Sae was a famous athlete and his younger brother Rin was known throughout the prefecture for being a mini Sae. The previous night when you had just finished brushing your teeth, your phone screen illuminated with the presence of a new notification: a text from the older Itoshi.

>make sure you don’t have anything planned for tomorrow

>i’ll need to try each ball out

>you did this to yourself

>shitty driver

A jolt of pain had struck your pride, crumbling your ego at the realization that he was, unfortunately, right about needing to sacrifice your entire afternoon to babysit a (grown) stranger whom you haven’t talked to in years; those conversations were brief, lacking any substance to consider them actual conversations. For a moment, the thought of bailing on him had crossed your mind, the idea of leaving him stranded at his residence while you enjoyed a night in, marinating before a tumultuous college career seemed insatiably tempting. 

Disaster struck when you Googled Sae Itoshi’s net worth, his bank account leading you right to his front doorstep.

“Don’t get into any car accidents,” Sae told you as he dipped his head down to step into the passenger’s side of your car. You were suddenly struck with a moment of insecurity; a wealthy athlete who could probably buy your family and your ancestor’s mummified corpses is sitting in your car and is probably rich enough to get away with murdering you for having half a particle of dust fall onto his lap.

You realized you zoned out when Sae cleared his throat, blinking a few times at you with an unamused expression and eyebrows furrowed in judgment. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, man. Just trying to remember the name of the place you mentioned. It’s a technique I use where if I think really hard in the same place I was when I thought of that thought, that thought I had thought of can reappear in my thoughtless mind.” You aren’t sure if you understand what you’re saying but you think you can get away with spouting bullshit if you use enough hand movements like a person on TedTalk.

“What the actual fuck are you saying?” Sae doesn’t seem to believe you but you’re an innovator—you simplify the problem down to something the average person (underling) can understand. 

“Can you give me the address again..?”

“You’re a freak.”

Sae picks up your phone, which was opened to the navigator app, and quickly typed in the name of the sporting good’s shop he had mentioned the day before. It was a small place, smaller than you would expect a star athlete to go to for equipment but you suppose it makes sense at the same time: less people, less paparazzi, less crazed fans, and a selection of items picked specifically for trained athletes. 

“So, uh, are you gonna make me pay for the ball too ‘cause I’m at least, like, five yen in student loan debt,” you sheepishly ask, hoping Sae can appreciate your humility in being a college student, taking a step forward in life by pursuing a higher education. 

“How cheap are you?” Sae scoffs, letting out a sound that started off as half of a chuckle but ended as a constipated grunt, making him sound like a diseased lab-grown goat that was raised by war-stricken alien society. You think Sae should become an experimental musical artist if soccer doesn’t work out, sorta like a fucked up version of Björk who’s slightly less musically talented and a total cunt instead. 

“I’m not cheap! I’m just curious. I brought my credit card just in case. I’m a responsible adult; this is all for budgeting and logging my payments or whatever else people do to save money.”

“You’re lucky you’re funny,” Sae comments as if it’s the most nonchalant thing in the world. For you though, you almost stepped on the breaks and begged him to repeat what he said. It would have been just another condescending compliment from anyone else but Sae Itoshi is notorious for not humoring anyone in the media and you quickly realized, even those in real life. Before you could doubt your memory, Sae opens his mouth again. “You lucked out on pretty privilege. All the bullshit you say would not slide if it came from any other person. I’m convinced the only social experience you have is talking to a mud wall.”

Any negative statement he had made went through one ear and directly out the other, keeping only the compliments for your brain to process. Without noticing, a giddy smile appeared on your face and to Sae, it was wildly masochistic the way you tolerated his foul personality and even relishing in his attention—no matter good or bad. He could almost pity you, deducing your attitude as a lack of self respect, but you somehow manage to surprise him every time.

“Nah, I think I had a lot of friends. I don’t know if we were actually friends but I knew their names so it’s probably good enough. Speaking of, there was this guy named Kota who I knew when I was seven and he seemed pretty cool until I caught him picking at his feet in the middle of class. Sometimes I wonder how he’s doing and if he’s still collecting foot gunk. But yeah, I think you’re just self projecting with the whole ‘no people, only soccer’ thing and moving to Spain with zero spanish skills. Damn, wait, that’s kinda sad. Shit, now I feel bad,” you take a look at Sae, searching for any sort of discomfort or offense but he simply shrugged. 

“It’s whatever, they all bothered me anyways. I was there to play soccer, not make lifelong friends. It’s not like I’m gonna stay in Spain forever. I’m back in Japan to renew my passport ‘cause I know I’m gonna come back eventually.”

“You’ve already made a name for yourself and you’re making insane money that can last more than a lifetime for the average person once your contract is over. It’s not gonna be long before you get onto the Olympic team for Japan. When you do make it on, you better thank me for making sure you kept on playing by bringing you to buy a replacement for a ball I ran over.”

You drove into a parking lot with two other cars directly in front of the sports shop. The building was in the middle of a small plaza, adjacent to an udon shop and a bar. It was undoubtedly an odd place for a sports shop to be and that might have been what caught Sae’s eye in the first place. In the window display, a tennis racket and a pair of soccer cleats are put on display and on the glass door, countless advertisements for events and brands are taped on, each barely correlating to the others.

Right in the corner of the shop is the checkout where an elderly man sits, scribbling something in a beaten journal. There is a stack of newspapers behind him, every issue marked with highlighted annotations and then neatly folded as if it were untouched. Sae greeted the man and turned to find someone else, this time, being a younger man who appeared to be in his thirties or forties. He gave Sae a warm smile and shook his hand, not as a business partner, but as an acquaintance. 

It’s here that you realize you’ll never be able to see the world the way Sae does. In your car he was just another boy in your neighborhood that you decided to get to know. But to others, he was Sae Itoshi, a prodigy who could conquer the world with just himself and a pair of cleats. Although his eyes are dimmed and his apathy anything but silent, his shine was lost to know one and when he boards a plane back to Spain while you settle into college, you think you’d be content calling him a shooting star.

Sae notices that you stopped following him and turns around in confusion, tilting his head to motion you to follow him. It takes a breath before you put your hands in the pocket of your jacket and tentatively follow him. It wasn’t until you walked into the store that you truly realized how out of place you felt and if it were just you and Sae, you might’ve thought to ask him what everything did. He’d call you a dense fuck and tell you that he plays soccer, that he doesn’t deal with anything else. You had even the smallest bit of shame so you kept your mouth shut and continued to trail after him, stealing glances at the stacked shelves until the employee came to a halt.

Before you was a wall, lined with four shelves of nothing but soccer balls, each decorated with the signatures of different brands and their series’.

“The guy said I can try them out in the back.” Sae tapped your shoulder and grabbed onto the fabric of your jacket, dragging you with him like a pet cat. “They have a lot of empty space there. You can help me carry everything I want to try.”

Agreeing turned out to be a mistake. In your arms you struggled to carry six different balls, with Sae dribbling one between his feet as the owner of the stop unlocked the door to the back where Sae would be testing things out. You felt like an overworked butler from some bad comic and in your head, you imagined yourself as a fainting princess—a damsel in distress being overworked by the evil kingdom in which she is supposed to be respected.

“Stop being dramatic,” Sae sighed, noticing your dejected pout and lost eyes. He could almost pity you if you didn’t look comically pathetic in the moment, almost adorable if he wanted to be slightly sentimental. “You can put them all down now. Just sit here and wait. Take a nap or something, you’ll be fine.”

The lack of standards you have would be an issue to address at a later date because the barely comforting words of the ever eloquent motivational speaker Sae Itoshi had you immediately perking up and cheering for him.

“Go! Go! You got this! Get that goal, ugly!”

“Who are you calling ugly? I could knock you out with this ball, you know. If you want to be supportive, don't be a freak.”

“Are you really gonna disrespect the only fan you have at the moment? What if I tweet about this and get you canceled or some shit?”

“Do you really think I care about that?”

“...no…”

“...”

“...”

“Whatever. Do what you want.”

“Kick that ball, little boy! You’re a prodigy! Number one soccer player in the world! Bend that net over!”

—

By the time Sae had finished shooting several goals and alternating dribbling between them at least five times, the sun had set and your throat was sore from bullshit cheering, half of which were incoherent sounds of moral support. Sae grabbed an unopened box of the ball he had chosen and denied a pump when offered one. When he placed the cardboard packaging onto the checkout table, your wallet was in your hand and ready to check out and pay off your debt to the Itoshi. 

However, you were met with a receipt in your hand instead and a farewell from the owner, bidding you and Sae a happy rest of your day. You quickly turned your head toward Sae, mouth agape as your brain twitched, trying to process if he was fucking with you or not.

“Do you want me to pay you online or write a check or what? Wait, why did you pay? I thought I owed you it? My complaining earlier was all joking. I literally popped your old ball. The least I can do is pay for a new one!” You rant, quickly taking your phone out of your bag to open up your banking app but Sae was quicker to take your hand in his and bring it down to where it was before.

“And I was fucking with you too, dumbass. Or are you too stupid to remember back in the car how I didn’t respond to you asking if you needed to pay? Start listening, will you?”

“I think this is the meanest act of generosity I’ve ever seen.”

“I’m not being generous, I’m telling you that you owe me something else.”

“What the fuck?” You’re perplexed by the audacity of this man. You hope his athletic career flops and every brand deal that he has gotten offered drops him. “Are you gonna start charging me an insane amount of interest like a loan shark? Dude, aren’t you rich?”

“I’m not asking for money.”

“Then what is it?”

“Go on a date with me.”

“Are you being for real right now?” You’re still perplexed by the audacity of this man. You’re perplexed by how his words are chosen to form the most foul sentences with sweet meanings. You’re perplexed by how out of all who know him, and all whom he knows, he would take an interest in you. But you’re a selfish person—if Sae Itoshi is offering his beauty and his awful personality to you, then you’ll take it with all your heart. 

You move to Sae’s side, putting everything in your hands into your bag and intertwining your fingers with his, a dumb smile planted on your face. As you skip to the car and swing your hands between the two of you, Sae Itoshi’s grin is highlighted by the golden glow of the setting sun. 

He really can’t wait to come home.

[powertaco]

What are your thoughts on WR development overall and your thoughts on WR being developed/made canon in V10?

Ugh I am going to ramble about everything here I can feel it...well you asked for it. I apologize for none of it, and if you all hate me at the end well I don't mind.

Volume 6 and before are pretty much great. They go from kinda at odds to tentative friends, learning to trust, and rely on each other, best friends, pining over one and other and V6 was a loooot of WR for us to feast on.

Afterward I felt like it got sidetracked. There could be various reasons for this (in hindsight I feel like Penny being given a way bigger role so her death could hit harder is to blame for part of this because realistically how long has Ruby known Penny? A month?)

Even if you don't like the ship they're supposed to be canon best friends so I take personal issue with almost all of volume 9.

I think it was sloppy writing that didn't move the story forward, and even though I don't care about Bees I feel like they still got shafted since they basically were forced to confess to move things along, and them doing so made them miss out on the sister/supposed friend and her problems, and only showcased the worst sides of the relationship.

For example Yang let's Ruby scream at Weiss but only moves to do something when Blake gets yelled at. Blake and Ruby still have...less dialogue than Ruby does with Ren I think etc.

Jaune was too present merely because his entire deal took away from Ruby's imo.

I've said it before but frankly Nora falling and learning who she is away from Ren so when she sees him in V10 she's ready for the relationship is far more satisfying to me narratively.

Leave Jaune above ground so he has to deal with the fact that he thinks he failed his friends and they all died and let him learn from that experience instead.

This also doesn't take into account that Jaune's one interesting change in 9 (being old) is taken away via random deaging (although I guess this makes deaging canon and hey young maria this is how dwr can still win! more at 11!)

Generally when characters go through a volume you want some sort of arc for them to go and change through. Weiss gets none of that. Out of all the characters nothing really happens to her, and she doesn't change at all. She's just sad about Atlas. Neat.

There's no time for it just like there's no real time for Ruby.

In Ruby's own words 'gotta help Jaune right?' and they do. Ruby removes herself from the census, which is how its framed, and they stop to...help Jaune.

There are a few moments that are WR'ish in 9. The Nevermore summon, Weiss believing in Ruby, and calling her name first etc, but overall Weiss's main job is to backslide.

I said it before but in the market Neo, the perfect assassin is after Ruby, and they split up. Weiss goes 'gross nosehairs', and ditches her best friend who she already knows by that point is NOT doing well.

This is not Volume 1. This Weiss is not that petty, and she's literally had to manhandle corpses. The fact that she wouldn't stay near her canonical best friend, and leader is asinine, and only happens so she can be alone to meet the smith.

Even if Weiss can't help Ruby fight Neo she's an extra pair of eyes (and Neo doesn't care how crowded it is in the market), and just being there for Ruby can help.

With all that said RWBY is big into symbolism. When WR are together in almost all the side spin off material it means something. Manga Anthologies has them making heart eyes and flirting like every other page. Ice Queendom was a love letter to WhiteRose (precious?). The movies, etc.

When their weapons rest next to each other on screen like the Bees do? It means something. When their flowers break ranks to be near each other (and Weiss's flower is the lily please note)? This means something.

Ruby can stand and jump from missile to missile but has to wrap her arms around Weiss to stay seated?

If Chibi continues it's pattern of predicting things in the main plot then the fact that Weiss is the woodsman in the fairy tale means a loooot as in several versions of that fairy tale the woodsman marries little red after helping her deal with the wolf problem (which varies by the story).

They're the knight and princess for each other. Ruby comes into Weiss's live turns it upside down, and helps her change. Likes her for her genuinely and wants to be her friend at the start. Through this she changes the world for Weiss, and helps her grow, and Weiss in turn helps Ruby be the leader she can be.

But yeah I guess that's just friends things and they should date some guys they've had like a half a dozen lines with instead? I don't get it really.

She and Oscar punch each other in the face, and they talk about strategy. Oscar has a younger kid crush on her, and Ruby is awkward because that's her headmaster in this kids head. Oh right he went in for a hug she ignored. Peak romance.

Jaune and Weiss have almost no interactions, and when he saves her at Haven her response isn't to be like 'omg i love you' it's 'keep doing it i have work to do'. Are they friends now? Sure, but that's about as far as it goes.

It remains that outside of group hugs the only person that's allowed to initiate contact with Weiss almost all the time outside of battle is Ruby.

Ruby knows when she needs help and will guide her away when she needs it, but other people don't' touch Weiss unless she does it first because they know she doesn't like it...except Ruby.

I have tried to look at other relationships for them, and I honestly don't see them as realistic.

Even Penny would need a lot more development to make it work. I get that it's cute and wholesome but they've known each other for again a month, and Penny just defers to Ruby.

Ruby needs a partner and equal not a submissive enabler. That's a relationship you have with a pet, and not a person.

Now if Maria were young and hot that'd be different...

Anyway...

Ruby and Weiss are partners. If they're allowed to have the much needed conversations they never seem to get, ie haven, ever after, Ruby's mom, everything, etc.

Then is it possible? Maybe. If they do go WR I suspect it'll be more hints, and slow ramp up until the final season.

I would expect it either on the eve of the final battle, or literally during it maybe as in Weiss gets feds up with waiting, and decides to do something about it.

More likely at this point is they'll both just end up single with maybe faint hints so fans can imagine what they want for it.

Would I prefer it if it was WR so the team can truly be family? Yes, but I don't even know if we're getting a volume 10 at all to be honest. The fact that it wasn't announced at the last festival, and we get an extended eppy, and then nothing after the last movie?

Not making me feel super confident. I could be wrong though. On many things. Except Young Maria.

[pr0wlerpunk]

P.s- I love you

Person: 1610!Miles morales

Afab!reader

Requested:|Yes|No|

@alisblackgf : can I get earth-1610!miles x Reader where they’re childhood best friends and are just like. In love with each other. And then confess. IDK IM A SUCKER FOR FLUFF AND CONFESSIONS

Warnings: angst(?), slight cussing, both miles and reader being Extremely oblivious to each other’s feelings, miles and reader are both 16 bc I feel like it’s more realistic for 16 year olds to have this sort of issues(idk man), the ending is rushed ngl

Translations; Amor: love, Mi Vida: My Life, Mi Corazón: my heart

Tags: @alisblackgf

Ever since you could remember you knew miles..

See growing up your mother was a hairstylist, so that meant she knew any and everyone.

From the browns to the jakobs…

But there was always one name that stood out most

Morales…

Your mother was friends with Rio and your father with Jefferson-which automatically made you friends with their son, miles.

Miles was a sweet boy, always doing right and helping out his family

But

Boy was he shy

When you all first met he never walked away from his mom’s side, which you thought was weird since you were only 5

But as time grew miles warmed up to you, and you realized just how amazing he was

And I mean so amazing that all you wanted to do was be around him

So your mom made plans and before you know it, you lived a couple blocks down from the Morales’s

Every birthday was spent at each other’s houses

Every Christmas

Every thanksgiving

Any and everything was done together..

You and miles grew up close together, so close that even some would say it was the universe proving how you both were meant to be

He was your corazón

And you

His vida…

🕷️

12 years later

You had officially made it to the same school as miles, and would not leave him alone.(not that he minded, you were his girl after all..even if he hadn’t said it yet)

He was your boy and you made sure everyone knew that…

Especially that little Gwen Stacy chick.

When miles first told you about her you thought she was alright, she seemed smart, and she had an interest in the drums

He told you how they met and how he wouldn’t clarify it as them being friends

But still, the way he talked about her made it seem different..

You weren’t the jealous type, but something about her was off…

And then next thing you knew, he was always leaving with her

“Sorry [___], Me and Gwen have some plans after school, I’ll make it up to you amor, I promise”

At first you thought it was ok, miles was making more friends and you were happy for him…

But every time you would ask him to hang or even walk home together he would always say he had plans with Gwen…

“I promised Gwen I’d help her with something today, I’ll make it up to you amor, I promise”

It was all bout her

“Ah [___], I forgot me and Gwen have to do something right now, I’ll make it up to you amor, I promise”

Normally you wouldn’t care if he flaked but you had something for him…

A letter.

You had spent hours on perfecting it

Now it was just about giving it to him…

But maybe you’d wait a little.

🕷️

And so that’s what you did,

You waited..

Hours had became days…

days turned into nights….

And nights went into weeks.

And then you realized

Nothing was going to change unless you made the change and reached out

And so the very next day, you did…

🕷️

Rio, miles mom let you in after school telling you how happy she was to see you and how miles was In his room

You thanked her and made your way to his, the path now unfamiliar since the last time you had been there

Which was-if you could remember-a week or two

As you neared his door you could hear hushed voices.

You leaned in slowly, pressing your ear to the door

“Im telling you Gwen, she’s amazing”

A confused look spread onto you face as you continued to listen

“Then why can’t you confess to her miles?”

Confess…confess to who?

“I don’t know, I mean we’ve been best friends for forever…I don’t wanna ruin things…”

W-was he talking about you?

“If shes a True Friend like you say she is, then she’ll hear you out-”

And suddenly it went quiet

“I got to go miles, Peter needs me back at his”

Then the window was shut

And that’s when you decided you would enter…

“Miles we need to tal-” You froze, there miles was, standing on his ceiling in what looked like a spiderman suit

“[___] I can explain!”

You watched in horror as your best friend jumped from his ceiling to his floor in a matter of seconds

“WHATS THERE TO EXPLAIN MILES??” You were livid, how could he keep something like this from you?

“Uhm im Spiderman….”

You stared at him a furious expression plastered on your face

“WELL I KNOW THAT NOW…”

Miles visibly cringed hearing you yell at him

“[___] Please calm down!, my moms gonna think something’s up!”

You glared at him

And then you put two and two together

“Miles…”

He looked at you, a soft smile forming onto his face

“Yea?”

“Gwen knows…doesn’t she?”

You already knew the answer, but you wanted to hear it come from his mouth

“She was the first person to know”

And you felt your heart shatter even more..

“Alright..yea, no that’s-it’s fine” You hurriedly turned to leave as tears threatened to spill down your face

“[___] don’t be like that, please amor” You felt his hand grab your wrist, and for the first time in weeks…you felt his skin…

And god everything was telling you to turn around and forgive him..

“D-don’t call me that miles”

But you didn’t… instead you ripped your wrist away from his grasp as you glared at him

Miles heart broke seeing your cold gaze…

And then something caught his eye.

“[___] w-whats that?”

You froze, he was never meant to see the envelope..especially not after what just happened

“It’s nothing”

You hurriedly tried to hide it, but you were too late

“Mi Vida, please!” He desperately pleaded

And you froze, the nickname you had came to love was now being used against you to get you to respond… and so you did

“Fine, you wanna know what it is so bad?!”

He anxiously nodded his head

“It’s a dumb letter..” You looked anywhere but him, not trying to see his face after what you where about to say

“I’ve been trying to confess to you for years miles…” your voice soft as you thought about all the times you wanted to tell him you loved him

“But you never got the hint…s-so I thought I’d write you a letter”

You finally held up the red and black envelope.

you watched as he took it from your hands, his gaze fixated on the little hearts and sunflowers that decorated the front

“Amor, I’m sorry, if I had known I would’ve made time for you I promise!”

You scoffed

“Miles cut the bull!”

He stared at you confused

“You would have Never, made time for me, and…I know that know”

He shook his head no, his mouth opening to speak…

But no words came out

And so you nodded, wiping the tears from your eyes before looking at him

Nothing was said as you turned to leave…

And nothing was said as you did

Miles laid awake that night.

he couldn’t sleep, not after what you told him all those hours ago

Earlier…

Rio had saw how you left, tears streaming down your face as broken sobs left your mouth

She immediately went to go check on miles and what she saw broke her heart even more…

Miles was on the floor, pictures of you and him scattered around him as he himself let out broken sobs

Present

Miles couldn’t believe what you had told him

You had liked him for years…and he was so dense that he couldn’t realize it

And now it was too late…

He had lost you

God, if only he had payed more attention to you then maybe he would of gotten the letter sooner

Wait…

The letter..

THE LETTER!

Miles was quick to jump up and find the envelope

He looked around his already messy room until the red and plack cover caught his eye

Quickly he picked it up and opened it

His eyes welded up with tears as he read what you had wanted to tell him for years…

——————————————————

To mi corazón,

As I’m writing this I realize how corny it is.

I mean this isn’t a movie, but I just thought that making this would help me get of few things off my chest…

So here I go

Miles..

You don’t know how much you mean to me, when we first met I thought you were this shy nerdy little boy, But as we matured I came to realize that you were much much more.

You’re caring, and compassionate,

You’re not afraid to help someone in need,

You’re smart and funny,

You’re everything anyone could ever want…

So as I sit here writing this, I think…

I think about how we met.

I think about how we begged our families to live next to each other.

I think about our movie nights.

I think about our first day in elementary together.

I think about how our moms used to match us up in the same outfits.

I think about our first day of Highschool.

I think about how everyone would tell us we were meant for each other.

And I think about how the universe has kept us together…

Miles I was the luckiest girl in the world to meet you.

No matter what…

I won’t ever be mad at you.

I won’t ever not be there for you.

I won’t ever not appreciate you.

And I won’t ever doubt you.

Miles morales you’re the most perfect guy a girl could meet.

All always be your Vida and you, my Corazón

-[___]

Oh! And

P.s -

I love you

——————————————————

“Shit” he cursed whipping the fallen tears from his cheeks

He looked around his room until he spots his suit, he quickly grabbed it slipping the material on as he rushed to the window

Miles needed to talk to you…

🕷️

There you lay, tears streaming down your face as your music blasted through your room.

Your parents had night jobs, so that meant that they would sleep all day and go to work at night, which left little to no time for you…

But you didn’t mind it, you liked being by yourself

You could draw, watch tv, and blast music without any consequences…

Even if someone called the cops you wouldn’t be in trouble

(9 x out of 10 it was mr. Jefferson that came and he would just let you off with a warning)

You were zoned out thinking about everything that happened today,

You found out miles was Spider-Man

You confessed to him

And then you left.

When you had arrived home you went straight to the shower,

After your shower you put your playlist on shuffle and laid in bed

Which is what your still doing

And then..

There was a tap on your window

And another

And another

And then it stopped.

You let out a breath of relief

And then you heard it..

“Amor..”

“Amor, Are You awake?”

Peering over you pillow you came face to face with Spider-Man or now as you know

Miles…

“What’re you doing here miles..or should I say spiderman?”

He let out a soft groan at your tone of voice

“Cmon [___] don’t be like that”

You rolled over, turning away from him

“I read the letter…”

You froze but quickly regained your composure

“Oh goody”

Miles huffed, jumping on your ceiling and crawling over back to face you

“Did you mean it, everything you said…?”

You were quite for a moment, until you opened your eyes to finally face him

“….yea…”

He smiled and it instantly warmed your heart

“Do you forgive me?”

You let out a soft laugh as a smile made its way to your face

“….yea…”

You both went quite just staring at each other

“[___]”

“Yes miles”

“Can we cuddle?”

You let out a snort but quickly shook your head yes

“…..yes miles..”

He crawled(literally)into your bed wrapping his arms around your waist, holding you flush to his body

“Oh and Ps”

He mumbled into your neck

“I love You too”

BONUS

“You’re so corny Miles”

You let out a laugh as he quickly spoke up

“You started it!”

“….Nuh uh”

“[___]!!”

“BOTH OF YOU GO TO SLEEP”

You and miles stared at each other with shocked expressions

You looked up catching Gwen in her spider suit

“GWEN???”

“WAIT, GWEN??”

She waved before leaving

[bungone]

Actually no im not done because I know it gets talked about a lot but Lolita is such an interesting piece of media; not just the book itself but people's attitudes towards it.

like, first off, there's the actual author (nabokov) who goes out of his way to talk about how childish, mokeyish, immature and whatnot Dolores is in the most unnappealing possible ways, and then specifically said that he didnt want the kind of cover that every single fucking published edition of Lolita has?? With girls who are either being sexualized or very obviously having "a good time" which is absolutely not what Dolores was doing in the book?? I really, really, don't think anyone who designs these covers has even opened the first page because what. the. fuck.

It's so obvious that my man Humbert Humbert is an unreliable narrator, but gee, I guess we learned to take everything we read at face value, and also everything that comes from a protagonist's mouth as the "correct" way of viewing things, both in the book and in real life?

And even then, maybe, just MAYBE I can excuse the people who talk about how the book is fucked up because it's "glorifying pedophillia".

Maybe they had a really shitty english teacher. At the very least, they're reading it and understanding that the actions of Humbert Humbert aren't okay? They got to the halfway point. Maybe their education sytem failed them.

Maybe they had a really shitty high school english teacher that never taught them the skills necessary to understand this kind of writing. Maybe they're just dense, that's who they are as a person, and it would take someone going out of their way to point it out for them to consider the possibility.

But then there's the fucking apologists?? Like, putting aside the whole Dolores being 12 (which, yeah, is akin to putting aside the whole book, but bear with me for a second), Humbert Humbert not only kidnaps her (illegal), lies to her for a long time about her mother (not illegal but generally shitty), but is implied to have committed murder (illegal, not sure if implied is the right word here because it absolutely happened and everyone knows it), and sexually abuses Dolores (very illegal). These are crimes. He is a criminal. Say what you want about the justice system these are crimes that absolutely should be crimes.

He's clearly not an upstanding citizen, and I fail to understand how some people look at all his behavior and go "oh yes, the the man who killed a woman and kidnapped a 12 year old girl is just misunderstood, and he did those things for true love" like fuck no.

I like Lolita. It's an objectively good book. The quality of writing (high quality, I mean, I normally hate first-person writing but I actually liked Lolita), it's a great psychological horror piece that doesn't rely on things like shock value and overused tropes. The characters are all multi-dimensional and frankly, act realistically. But that's all it is. A psychological HORROR piece. It's not romantic. If anything, it's meant to make you sympathize with Humbert, and then you're supposed to take a step back and be like, "Wait. Why am I sympathizing with him? I'm not a pedophile." Because yeah, he's a complex character but that only goes to make him realistic in terms of the kind of pedos that exist in real life.

Pedophiles are people too. Mentally ill people, really, really shitty people who need serious help, but reducing them to "not human" only makes them an "other", which makes you forget that on the outside, they look like normal people. That have friends and family and go to school or have jobs and order coffe and read in libraries and yeah, maybe you sat next to one of them an entire year in organic chemistry. They're not weird stalkers that hang out in bushes in parks. Some of them, maybe, but not all. Nowhere near all.

man that derailed fast.

[aralezinspace]

Pride, Not Prejudice

Requested by Anonymous: 10th Doctor x chubby!reader, Victorian age. Donna knows Doctor and reader have it bad for each other but will never say it, besides the Doctor could have anyone why her? so she helps reader get done up to fluster the Doctor

A/N: Anon I LOVED writing this one, cuz you KNOW Donna would be the strongest supporter of a thiccer/not 'conventionally' attractive reader GOING OUT THERE AND GETTING WHAT THEY WANT! Hope you enjoy!

~~Requests for Morpheus and the Doctor (9-13) are open!~~

“Right!” the Doctor yelled, flipping a lever with a dramatic flourish. “London, 1888! End of the social season.” You laughed and a beaming grin spread across your face- you had begged and pleaded and made puppy dog eyes for what seemed like an eternity before the Doctor finally agreed to take you and Donna to a proper Victorian ball. You and Donna giggled at each other, earning a look of slight confusion from the Doctor.

Every adventure with him only made your heart beat faster, your hands sweatier, your wonder greater. He was a man like no other, technically not even a man in the traditional Earth sense. You adored him, cared for him, admired him, wanted to be like him… all the while he barely seemed to notice you, beyond someone to look out for, someone to temporarily fill the silence. Whether it was love or just an infatuation, you couldn’t risk disturbing the current harmony that existed between you, the Doctor, and Donna Noble, a companionship whose death you knew you’d mourn as if a close friend. No, best to content yourself with what you had.

The Time Lord hit a few more buttons and peeked at the screen. “Festivities officially start in an hour, there are clothes in the wardrobe, near the back. Go on then, off you pop!” A tiny smile touched his face as he shooed you out of the console room. Donna grabbed your hand and dragged you out behind her, the two of you still giggling like schoolgirls as you ran down the hall.

Once secluded in the wardrobe, you navigated through the maze of clothing racks until you found the Victorian section, the racks squeezed between containers stacked taller than you full of who knew what. As you flipped through the hangers, eyes peeled for something in your size, Donna said conspiratorially, “So, when are you gonna tell him?”

“What?” You had only caught the last half of her sentence, too focused on holding a dress up to your body to see if it would fit. You had a hunch what the first half had been, and the look Donna threw your way confirmed it: she saw right through you.

“Don’t be daft, when are you gonna tell him how much you like him?” Now it was your turn to give Donna a look. Come on.

“Great idea,” you replied sarcastically, a few dresses in your arms to try on. “Pour my heart out to him, just plop it in his hands so he can throw it on the floor.”

“Bollocks,” she shot back, pointing a finger at you as you went behind a dressing screen. “He’d be a nutter to refuse you!”

Your self-control cracked. You stepped out from behind the screen in just your bra and underwear, your frustration overpowering your bone-deep self-consciousness. “Donna, be realistic here. Why would he want a girl like me?” You gestured to the entirety of your body. “I mean, look at me!”

You were under no illusions about your body: too many curves in all the ‘wrong’ places, larger and thicker and taller than human society had ever considered beautiful or desirable. You had made your peace with it: hopeful that there was someone out in the universe who would find you beautiful and maybe even sexy, fall head over heels for you, love and appreciate you, flaws and all… but doubtful you’d ever meet them.

Donna approached you with compassion softening her face. She knew exactly how it felt to not be desired for the ‘flaw’ of being ‘too much.’ She placed gentle hands on your shoulders and gave an encouraging squeeze. “Exactly,” she replied softly. “Look at you! Who wouldn't want someone like you?” A mischievous, scheming glint lit up her eyes. “If the Doctor’s not absolutely mad for you by the end of this, he will have declared himself unworthy of you in every way.”

~~

The Doctor anxiously paced the console room as he waited for the two of you to reappear. He pulled and tugged at pieces of his suit, trying to get it to sit somewhat comfortably. What was taking you two so long? He’d never admit it, but the Doctor was not really good at being patient- especially when it came to you and Donna. The longer the two of you were out of his sight, together, the more likely you were hatching some kind of scheme.

Not to mention, not having his eyes on you made him anxious. He had always cared for you, ever since you had started traveling with him- not just out of obligation, but genuine care for your well-being. You were one of the most beautiful humans, no, beings, he had ever met, inside and out. His hearts quickened every time you laughed, and stopped every time he earned one of your beaming smiles. But he knew the love of a Time Lord could be a dangerous and overwhelming thing, and that for one reason or another, he’d most likely lose you, sooner than he’d wish. Maybe it was cowardly, but that was a risk he just couldn’t take.

The sound of heeled shoes against the metal floor jerked him out of his anxious, whirling thoughts. His head snapped up as the two of you came back into the console room. It didn’t matter if he had one or two hearts beating in his chest, every blood-pumping organ would have come to a dead stop at the sight of you.

You usually wore your hair one of two ways: in a ponytail or messy bun when out on adventures, or hanging loose and free when relaxing in the TARDIS. For this occasion, your locks had been swept back into an elegant updo, several loose curls artfully framing your face. Teardrop shaped pearl earrings dangled from your ears, matching the strand of pearls draped elegantly around your neck.

Your dress was an enchanting shade of blue, the color of a bright summer sky. The sweetheart neckline enhanced the alluring curve of your breasts, while the empire waist drew the eye to the curves of your torso. You were a Botticelli painting brought to life, and the Doctor could not take his eyes off you.

A flush suffused your cheeks and you bashfully glanced at the floor. Donna stifled a snorting giggle as she watched your reactions to each other. If the Doctor’s jaw hung open any longer, he’d start drooling. “Well spaceman?” Donna asked with her usual bluntness, gesturing to you in a sort of ‘ta-da’, “What d’you think?”

It took the Doctor a very long five seconds to shake himself out of his stupor and run a distracted hand through his hair. “Well, um- you both look great. Really great.” You and Donna both giggled at his obvious discomfort at being put on the spot.

While he was busy being flustered and fiddling with the controls, you took several peeks at the Doctor. He was wearing the black suit he always wore for more formal occasions, complete with black Converse. He had swapped the bowtie for a black silk cravat, tied in an intricate knot. The whole effect was rather dashing; he could have passed for a most upstanding gentleman, and you were sure he knew it.

“Come on then!” Donna yelled from the doors, having made her way over while you and the Doctor were stuck in your own swirling thoughts, “We’ve got a party to get to!” She threw the doors open and stepped out, throwing you a conspiratorial wink over her shoulder. You started to follow, but she deliberately closed the door right behind her. Your eyes widened; you knew she had left the two of you alone on purpose. Your heart shot into your throat and clenched there, its beats shallow and quick.

“You really do look lovely,” the Doctor murmured from behind you, awkwardly rubbing the back of his head, his eyes fixed on some spot on the floor near the doors.

“Thanks,” you bashfully mumbled back, twirling a curl around a finger. “You’re looking rather dashing as well.” A sheepish smile touched his face. He jammed his hands in his pants pockets and took a few steps towards you, trying to appear casual and unaffected. He opened the doors with one hand before gallantly offering his arm to you.

“Might I have the honor of escorting you tonight?” he asked with a chortle, a teasing yet genuine smile tugging at his lips. You looped your arm with his, hand resting in the crook of his elbow. You could feel the pulse of his hearts through the layers of fabric beneath your fingers; faint, but sure and steady.

“You may,” you teased back, throwing him a flirty grin of your own before letting it soften into something more open- tender and vulnerable. “There’s no one I’d rather dance the night away with.”

The Doctor paused, one foot out of the TARDIS. He blinked twice, as if letting your words filter through every part of his mind, making sure he completely understood them and committing them to memory. Another slow blink as they finally registered, and a feeling of understanding passed between you, suffusing you both with a gentle warmth.

He moved so you could step out as well, still holding his arm. He placed his hand atop yours and gave it a gentle squeeze. Warm brown eyes stared deeply into yours, as if gently falling into the center of your being. “Nor I, Y/N,” he murmured, “Nor I.”

[luminoustarlight]

behind the series—

as fate would have it

welcome to an extended version of what could be considered an author’s note. i can't even begin to thank all of you who have left comments, reblogged, and sent me lovely messages about this story. it motivates me every day and it truly means so much to me as a storyteller.

i just thought it would be fun to go behind the scenes, so to speak, and share with y'all a few more details about the story.

our story takes place in northern california, more specifically, palo alto. it is the birth place of silicone valley. stanford college and facebook headquarters are in this area as well. not only is the area familiar to me, but the setting makes sense for anakin’s company.

the skywalker’s live in a mid-century modern house that is very popular in the bay area called “eichler homes”. they are named after the architect joseph eichler. i didn’t pick a specific house to be theirs, but if you’re curious about the style, i highly recommend checking it out! mentioning the type of house they live in was just a subtle way of indicating where the story takes place.

in chapter 3 i mention Philz Coffee. Philz is a local coffee chain in the bay area. there’s no real significance behind it, it’s just different from saying “starbucks” and i think it makes it unique. i name dropped 2 of my favorite drinks- the mint mojito and mocha tesora.

anakin's characterization is really important to me in this story (and all of my stories). in terms of afwhi, i try to emulate live action anakin in ahsoka. granted, tcw anakin is supposed to be in his early 20s so it's fun to adapt him as a 42 year old. he's such a dynamic character. he cares so deeply for the people around him, but he's also moody and has a temper.

i'm obsessed with him having a soft spot for certain people—ahem— reader, and also his own children. he actually couldn't care less about other kids and i will die on this hill.

i think kids can make or break stories. published books and fanfiction. what are they adding to the story? is their dialogue realistic or are they way too wise beyond their years? i think my experience with children has helped me create realistic 9 year olds. they’re capable of having serious conversations and motivations while also still being playful.

reader’s cat’s name is panini because my best friend had a cat named panini. i’m really a dog person and have no real experience with cat personalities. but ya know. it’s fanfic i can do what i want.

i think that just about does it. what started out as a little blurb has turned into 12k words (so far) and we are nowhere near done. there’s quite a bit more story i want to tell. i didn’t originally intend for this to be a slow burn and i’m still not sure if it is one. maybe like a medium burn…. 🤭

i hope this was fun for you as a reader. i really cannot thank you enough for your love and support with this story. you are all my besties and i love writing for you.

- mae

[giselsann]

Ominis: Sebastian, please listen to me!

* Ominis tried to keep up with his friend, who had gone far enough from the house to reach an old tree near the river *

*Sebastian finally stopped and turned to see him, still with his annoyed expression*

Sebastian: I'm not interested in what you have to tell me. I know what I saw, ominis.

*Ominis breathed tired and then answered*

Ominis: I know, I kissed Anne. But I only did it because she really wanted to experience what a kiss was like for once in her life.

Sebastian: You are shameless, ominis.

Ominis: Sebastian, you know me! I would never play with something like that! * he exclaimed desperately and then under his sad gaze * with each passing day Anne loses more hope of healing * I shake my head embarrassed * And when he asked me this, I couldn't just say no. I feel like I would have regretted it later.

*Sebastián looked at him seriously and in that he got closer to him. He couldn't help but feel annoyed even with that explanation. Besides, he couldn't believe that ominis thought that Anne had no cure, and that she would one day leave them. However, his annoyance easily increased when he remembered the image of the two of them kissing, but why?

Sebastián: Me, I can understand why Anne wanted to do it. But still, tsk, it annoys me that you got in so easily, plus I know we'll find a cure soon, you two are rushing!

Ominis: Sebastian

Sebastian: Anne will be cured, she will return to Hogwarts and she will be able to meet other boys, I'm sure.

Ominis: And if it isn't?

Sebastian: I know it will be like that. Don't start with your negativity, Ominis.

*Ominis sighed resignedly and nodded slowly. Actually he didn't have as many hopes as Sebastian, he was more realistic. However he knew he couldn't make him change his mind *

Sebastian: Well?

Ominis: What?

Sebastian: Do you like it, Anne?

Ominis: Of course not! I mean, it's not that I dislike it. I like it, but not in a romantic way. Anne has always been like a sister to me.

Sebastian: Mm, good. Then don't you dare kiss her anymore, got it? Even if she asks you for that, or something more intimate...

The ominis face reddened again with shame. How could he think that?

Ominis: Sebastian, by Merlin. Don't be so rude. I would never do

Sebastián: If you were so willing to kiss her, who knows what else!

Ominis: You don't have to worry about anything, Sebastian. This will not be repeated... *he said honestly*

Sebastián: I hope so... And did you like the kiss?

Ominis: What? And now why do you ask me that? *asked nervously*

Sebastian: Just answer.

Ominis: Me, I don't know, I don't mean anything. maybe?

Sebastian: Maybe?

Ominis: It was just a simple kiss. No feelings involved. It was nice, but strange at the same time * he confessed * And I won't say more.

*Sebastián felt strange, he didn't even know who he was upset with*

Sebastian: Fine, so you don't feel anything for her. She's a relief *he said out loud*

Ominis: Ah, I'm sorry. I didn't know that you would think that she was such a bad option for Anne * the blond said somewhat offended *

* Sebastian realized what he had said. But now he couldn't stop. A strange feeling was making him say nonsense nonsense *

Sebastián: Of course you are a terrible option. In fact, she didn't think you were good enough for her, or for anyone else!

"No. Why the hell did I say that?"

*There was a long silence. And the voice of ominis sounded hurt*

Ominis: Really, is that what you think of me?

Sebastián: Me, don't ominis, I'm sorry, I don't know why

Ominis: I think I've heard enough, Sebastian. You made it very clear that I'm too little for everyone. I better go *he raised his wand and started running away*

Sebastian: No, wait ominis!

"No. What am I doing?"

* Desperate he threw a Trip Jinx at him causing him to stumble and fall on the grass. his wand flew away *

Sebastian: Ominis, I'm sorry! *he ran to the boy, trying to explain his confused feelings*

Ominis: Ugh, get away from me!

* From his fall he hurt his knee and now he was desperately crawling forward, trying to find his wand to see *

Sebastián: Please ominis, I didn't want to

*Sebastián was behind him, following him and trying to calm him down. He now he felt terrible about this.

Sebastian: Ominis!

* Fortunately, Ominis managed to find his wand and when he felt Sebastian touch his he turned his shoulder on the ground and pointed his wand at her *

Ominis: Depulso!

* The teenager's body flew into a tree, colliding with his back and falling to the ground in pain. He immediately tried to go after him, but stopped when he saw him running out of sight *

Sebastian: Tsk... I think I'm jealous... *he lowered his head in embarrassment*

[possiblyeldritch]

Hrnnngg, I really need to talk about why I love playing DnD with my friends and why I love their characters.

Rambling below the cut. It’s long.

SO,

My friends and I have been playing the same DnD campaign for about two and a half years now and I absolutely love their characters. It’s something I’ve said to them multiple times but I don’t think I’ve ever truly expressed just how much I love these funky little guys.

Obviously, when the campaign started, the characters weren’t that fleshed out and half our party was new to DnD, so my best friend (another player) and I had to teach them, but it didn’t take long.

Their characters were kind of generic at the start, I’ll admit, but through guidance from their resident author (me) and through roleplaying/slow progression, their characters grew to feel like real people who reacted to world in a very real way.

Let’s start with Isaac. Isaac is a human sorcerer played by a friend who was new to the game. Isaac was the only full spell caster in the party. Isaac started the campaign with no backstory to speak of and his personality was just the generic grumpy character. However, as time progressed and I talked with Isaac’s player more, we were able to create a real backstory for him, and it was one that helped to put his personally into a realistic context.

> Isaac was a slave, sold off to flesh traders by his birth parents. He killed his captors and escaped from them during a thunderstorm one night while aboard a ship. The storm awakened him to his sorcerer blood and allowed him to destroy the ship through the storm magic he carried (this also ties into the main plot of our campaign because the villain was the god of storms).

> The impact of Isaac being a slave carried into his adult life, aka, his personality during the campaign. One of Isaac’s main traits that was originally played for laughs was that fact that he was a mean, distrustful, drunk. He spent most of his money on alcohol and he was generally rude to everyone. It wasn’t until many sessions later (and some character progression) that Isaac finally told the party about his time as a slave and showed them the scars that covered his back. Suddenly, he wasn’t just a generic angry drunk, instead he was a man who was hurt and struggles to trust people. But he would begin to trust others and that would lead him to becoming kinder (although begrudgingly).

In order to get full context for Isaac, I need to talk about Zulton, the one person in the party who proved himself trustworthy enough to make the sorcerer open up and allow himself to heal. That character is Zulton.

Zulton is played by my best friend. Zulton is a Minotaur paladin. Zulton is best described as a big sweetheart who genuinely wants to help people. He was not a simple, generic character in the first session, his player came prepared with a backstory that would shock the other characters when it was revealed.

> Zulton was orphaned at a very young age and was taken in by a pair of adoptive parents who raised him in an unnamed village somewhere near a forest. Zulton grew up learning how to hunt animals and track prey. It would be during one of these hunting expeditions that he would meet a man that would change his life.

> Zulton became quick friends with the man and the two began hunting together. The man would gain Zulton’s trust and that would be the downfall. The man manipulated Zulton into thinking he was good when in reality, the man was a werewolf who wanted nothing more than to make the people of Zulton’s home into his prey. Everyone Zulton ever knew would be killed by the man, and he would be left as the only survivor.

> I mentioned that Zulton was a sweetheart and that he was a paladin, but what I failed to mention is that he is a Paladin who swore an oath of vengeance against the man who killed his family. Zulton is a kind person because he has seen the evil of the world and he wants to protect others from it, but underneath the hopeful mask he wears, he is a horribly broken man filled with a boiling hatred for the man who killed his family.

But Zulton only brought up his backstory once with the party and he did it to help Isaac. Zulton may be someone fueled by rage, but he is still a good person. He wants to help and he wants to make the world a better place because he knows just how much it can suck. It’s his persistent kindness and genuine love for others that helped him finally crack through Isaac’s hard exterior and make the sorcerer confide in Zulton.

The dynamic of the party is always interesting to me because the characters feels so real, and my friends and I have often agreed that the party has the same energy as a bunch of coworkers. But, when we talk about Isaac and Zulton specifically, we all agree that those two are genuine friends and that’s because of how they treat each other and respect one another.

Now let’s talk about Raymond. He is played by my brother. Raymond is a halfling fighter. Raymond is an agent of chaos. Raymond is a cryptid. Raymond may or may not be a trickster deity who just wants to have some fun.

Raymond has no real backstory to speak of, and that may sound like he’d be a boring character to some, but not to us. Raymond’s lack of a backstory is what makes him interesting, that, and the way my brother chooses to play him.

Raymond likes to have fun and collect woodland animals as pets. Raymond likes to play pranks. Raymond likes to be someone who tags along with the party whether they (Isaac) like it or not.

He is persistent. He is strong. He is crafty. And he is a walking mystery. Raymond likes to randomly talk about little bits of his past during party interactions but then refuse to elaborate, causing chaos amongst the party and making them wonder more and more what this little man is exactly.

Because he is played as a mysterious, almost cryptid like man who just likes doing things for the hell of it, Raymond very quickly became the comedic heart of the party. This love of being a prankster and general nuisance cause Isaac to take a disliking to Raymond resulting in a friendly rivalry that usually helped bring the party close together.

Finally, the character who was a later addition to the party: Veda. Veda is a satyr ranger. Veda is from the Feywild. Veda is a pothead. Veda is the woman out of place in this story.

> Veda’s backstory is simple. She was a nuisance in the feywild, partying too hard and causing to many problems. So, she was booted out until she could learn to behave. This led to Veda meeting Raymond and him claiming her as one of his many pets, refusing to acknowledge that she was not a goat but instead a person.

Veda was introduced to the party as a newcomer, someone who’d never seen the world before or who understood the conflict the party was involved with. She was the perfect way for me to give more exposition about the world while also fitting nicely into the party as the last missing piece to make the dynamic whole.

Veda was a kind person who didn’t understand why the party would sometimes jump to violence to solve a problem and this created conflict. She always wanted to talk things out and find alternative solutions, which were often supported by Zulton, the unofficial voice of the party.

But she would soon have to accept that the main antagonists were not of the negotiating sort. They wanted violence and death, so she had no choice but to follow the party’s lead and handle things with violence. This resolution of violence actually broke Veda’s original character of being a carefree, flirty fun loving girl. She became someone who had her original worldview, forged of privilege, shattered. She did not experience the tragedy of Isaac and Zulton, nor did she have the almost uncanny knowledge and desires of Raymond. She was a person who grew up with privilege and was then forced to face the world as it was.

This break in her character changed her as a person. She suddenly became more thoughtful, down to earth, reasonable and mature. But even though she lost her rose colored world, she didn’t let it hurt her basics. She was still kind. She was still good. The world beat her down but she still stood up and assessed the wounds of others before her own.

Part of the reason she was able to keep her hope and her kindness is because she had the help of Zulton and a recovering Isaac to hold her in reality and remind her why they fought with the people she had wanted to talk down.

Veda was a good person who wanted good things for others even if she often felt powerless to help.

The core of why I love these characters and why I struggle so much to explain it is because these silly guys, played by my friends, are genuinely well made characters. They aren’t perfect. They aren’t Mary Sues or cardboard cutouts. They are real, nuanced people who experience struggles, happiness, conflict with the world, conflict with each other, and conflict with themselves. They are people who have all experienced hurt and betrayal, but it was through opening up to each other and finding others like themselves that they were able to get better together. We often joke about their dynamic being that of coworkers, but genuinely, I believe they are a found family. They are unlikely friends who found each other through circumstances that would change their lives.

They are not perfect, but they are good people who were hurt and who believe no one else should have to experience avoidable misery. They want to be a force of good, despite everything that has hurt them and tried to push them down a darker path.

I love this party because they are little pieces of my friends. They are pieces of their beliefs, their personalities, their personal histories, their emotions, and of their own insecurities.

I love these characters, because they ARE my friends, and through our funny sessions of fighting evil and role play, I think we were all able to open up to and help each other, whether we realized it or not.

[dynmghts]

TRANSMISSION FROM @aeviare : 23. would your muse be good at recognizing their partner's needs right away, or would it take some time? 31. does your muse develop crushes easily? would they be open about it to a friend or keep it to themselves? 32. does your muse have an ideal "type"? TRANMISSION ENDED / ROMANCE HCS , ACCEPTING .

would your muse be good at recognizing their partner's needs right away, or would it take some time?

hmm… well, i think it varies. early katsuki is very focused on his goals and tends to disregard others to pursue them — so as you might’ve guessed, he’s kind of a terrible partner early on. recognising his partner’s needs while he’s so focused on himself and the goals he’s set would take time, and even then, he’d likely get frustrated if it’s something he can’t fix straight away. like… maybe the intentions are pure, and the care is there, but his execution is subpar at best.

like i said, terrible partner. 0/10. do not recommend.

BUT this is so different to what i imagine a later katsuki to be; there’s a point where he turns on his heel and recognises that the needs of those around him are just as vital as his own. this allows him to prioritise his partner when he recognises that they need something from him, for sure! and it’s not perfect — sometimes he still takes a bit of time, and sometimes it’s instant — but it is much better executed and with a lot more care. even if he gets frustrated, he doesn’t let it get in the way.

he also becomes more open to the idea of change. and not like, change his personality and everything with it kind of thing — he’d rather die. more like… adjusting how he approaches aspects of the relationship. meeting his partner’s needs that way. if they ask for him to touch base more often, he will. they ask for him to keep them in line, it’s done in a heartbeat. more affection? he might call you a sentimental idiot, but fuck it.

does your muse develop crushes easily? would they be open about it to a friend or keep it to themselves?

HA. HAHA. katsuki, developing crushes easily? no. fuuuuuuck no. this boy has no fucking idea what a crush is even meant to feel like — he’ll hear mina talk about that feeling of attraction to someone, and he’s staring at her like she’s grown a second head, because what the hell does that even mean? he’s just supposed to feel… what, sick? because that’s a pretty shitty feeling, if you ask him.

like. okay, i have so many ships for him, and it’s mostly just me promoting my katsuki x happiness agenda… but realistically, in my head and the whole timeline i have for him, he’s only kind of crushed on like. one or two people before ua. and it was nowhere as intense as people describe; it was more a passing feeling of oh, they’re alright, i guess, i don’t hate them. but how is katsuki meant to separate that from the friendships he had during primary and middle school?

the day he gets a real crush is the day he thinks he’s dying. because why is his heart racing, and why is his stomach churning, and why does the idea of going near that person make his face feel like it’s on fire? he almost SWEARS his quirk drawbacks have hit him out of nowhere, even if he hasn’t trained.

as for whether or not he’s open about it, that is also a funny joke because katsuki bakugou would take that crush to his grave if he could. he wouldn’t utter a single fucking word about it for months, even YEARS. (that 100% varies based on who it is he’s crushing on.) no, seriously, he could keep his mouth shut about someone he likes for six years, right up until he’s practically moved on — and nobody would have ever known.

but with his new friend group at ua, if he feels like he needs to get it out there, he has one or two friends he could trust with this secret. that’s kind of helpful. it makes it more bearable, if anything…

except if the crush in question is kirishima. then he just wants to throw himself off the nearest mountain.

does your muse have an ideal "type"?

type as in physical features: no, not really. there’s not anything he seeks out in a person’s physicality that could be considered his “type”.

but in personality traits? ABSOLUTELY.

katsuki is as headstrong as they come. strong-willed, assertive, competitive, and unapologetically himself, he knows he needs someone that can match his energy or maybe even contrast it. it’s a good thing that he also thinks that is kind of his “type”. because consider, say, izuku vs. ochako vs. shouto. (this is all personal observation and should be taken with a grain of salt by the way!)

izuku always seems to meet his energy in one way or another; even without a quirk, he did stand up against katsuki's personality. after getting one for all, izuku’s confidence soared, and it’s why they tend to reflect one another so readily — and fight so fiercely. they feed off one another more than anyone else.

ochako is somewhere in the middle. i feel that some of the time, she’s contrasting his energy with a more careful approach to situations, like hanging out with friends, or if they’re on the field, a rescue mission. but! she has a real fighting spirit under there, and once you pit that against katsuki’s own, they’re absolute demons. (and while i think of it; kirishima also fits into this category! he’s got a supportive, encouraging sort of personality that boosts katsuki’s, but he also kind of contrasts that in the moments that need it.)

and finally, shouto is a strong contrast to katsuki. while he has his ambitions and moments where he isn’t the cool and collected type, he will always be overshadowed by katsuki’s consistent hair-trigger personality. but that’s the fun of it! because 1) opposites attract and i live for that. but 2) katsuki feeds off the collected energy and settles down, while katsuki offers a chance for shouto to step away from his usual demeanour — especially when it’s something he is passionate about.

apart from that? katsuki values ambition, resilience, and loyalty. these three are the core traits he wants to see in his partners above all — because that guarantees they share similar qualities, while they are able to handle him when he’s not at his best. and loyalty out of the three is arguably the most important to him; if he gets the inkling that you’re not a loyal person, you will never be in his life again.

(he also values strength, but this isn’t necessarily a part of his type.)

[xknivesandpensx]

Like Pieces of a Puzzle

Chapter 15

Summary: What if Harry wasn't the only extra student called upon to participate in the Triwizard Tournament? Far from the most popular candidate, Draco not only has to take on the trials but also deal with his unexpected feelings for Hermione. Will he be able to face the challenges as well as follow his heart? Chapter length will vary. I'll be referencing both the books and movie versions. Some things from what I've previously written will be mentioned, all of which you can find here.  And for those who asked to be tagged: @dayane245love

Hermione made her way through the crowded corridors and up the winding staircase with ease. She lightly knocked on the door, choosing to enter despite the lack of a verbal reply, assuming Moody may be up in his office. The chamber fell into an almost eerie quietness, everything still except for the spiders moving inside the small jars.

She walked past empty tables and to the room above, her fingers lightly trailing along the railing in the process. Once again, Hermione tapped her knuckles on the door only to be met by nothing more than silence.

Although, she intended to leave and search elsewhere or perhaps try another day, a rather loud thumping sound caused her to stall. After taking a breath, Hermione quieted her nerves and peered inside. A roaring fire illuminated the space in hues of yellow and orange, showing an otherwise ordinary backdrop. Moody’s large trunk rested near the wall, almost out of place.

Hermione almost instinctually reached out towards it, yet something else caught her attention. A warped, black book rested on the table; one she remembered quite well despite its damaged appearance. A large hole splintered through the middle, looking very much like Harry explained it back in their second year. She took hold of the diary and absently flipped through the pages. The parchment was stiff and difficult to peel apart.

“You might want to put that down.” The gruff voice caused Hermione to jump. Moody paid no mind to her reaction. His magic eye shifted around quickly, making sure everything remained how he left it.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to come in without permission. I heard a strange sound. Maybe I imagined it.” She cleared her throat some prior to continuing. “If you don’t mind me asking, why is Tom Riddle’s Diary here?”

“That’s between me and Dumbledore.” Moody outstretched his hand and put it aside once she relinquished possession. “I’m assuming you came here for a reason?”

“Yes, actually.” She paused momentarily as he took a long swig from his flask. “I was wondering if you found out anything new regarding Harry and Draco being selected for the tournament. I worked out how well enough. Different schools, the use of a Confundus Charm. I just can’t put together why or who for instance.”

Hermione thought it quite strange how she felt the need for company whenever Moody came close. His reputation proceeded him, according to Ron anyway. Hyper-suspicious and skeptical, if not overly realistic when it came to the Dark Arts. His lessons were abrasive, to say the least. His choice of detentions hardly sat well either.

“It’s a matter for the professors to handle. Still, impressive work figuring out so much on your own,” Moody replied, attempting to determine her threat level when it came to his intended goal. “You’re a bright, young witch. Very keen on details often missed.”

Barty thought himself rather safe while undercover. He had a sufficient amount of Polyjuice Potion on supply. However, he knew Snape would eventually begin picking up on his missing ingredients. As for the fourth year before him, he knew little of her. Muggle-born. Exceptional grades. And most importantly, a close friend of Harry Potter.

Maybe he made a mistake by adding Malfoy into the tournament. It certainly didn’t help lower the questions, but little could be done now. Barty hardly relished the idea of Lucius coming to watch the competition. He needed to keep himself in check, if he aimed to conceal his real identity.

“Unless you’ve got any leads you’d like to share, it’d be best to get going. I have a lot of work to do.” Moody sidestepped her to get to his desk.

Compliments aside, Hermione intended to persist her point. “It’s obvious a person in the school is involved and I have a terrible feeling that something horrible is going to happen. Which is why I think it’s imperative to figure out who’s responsible. The only plausible connection I’ve gathered is it being a staff member. Based on the reaction of the other headmasters and their students, I can’t see them happy about having four additional competitors against their own opposed to two. And as disagreeable it is, Hogwarts holds a track record of professors going after Harry.”

She wanted him to believe her suspicion partly fell on him to witness his initial reaction. As expected, he gave almost nothing away. His quick veer in her direction showed her a small glimpse of worry. No more than a single instance though. It vanished immediately.

Moody kept himself busy, pretending to rummage through a few papers. “Quite a theory. And how exactly does it pertain to Draco Malfoy? Certainly, he scurried away from any potential danger over the years. His whole family is like that. Cowards, they are.”

“Well, you’ve blatantly made your disapproval of him known.” Hermione stopped herself from mentioning the punishment Moody gave Draco in case it got him in further trouble and instead redirected her statement. “I imagine there are others who don’t appreciate the ideals he grew up learning.”

She found her suspicion rising. In reality, she had nothing, no evidence. Dumbledore appointed him the position because they shared a lasting friendship and trust. So, why did she feel off regarding his hiring?

“I would hate to think you’re accusing me of having a hand in this whole thing, Miss Granger. Often students, such as yourself, find themselves in trouble for thinking they found the answer when it turns out their assumptions were wrong. Then you waste too much energy on the incorrect party.” He realized her trust in him faltered, sensed it almost. “I think it’s high time you’re on your way out. If you have any doubts, speak to Dumbledore and he’ll clear them up. I’m here for the sole purpose of teaching the proper way to defend yourselves. If anything, I’m hoping Mr. Potter pulls through.”

“But not Draco?” The question left her deprived of warning. Hermione hesitated, choosing not to try and fix the way her voice sounded, how it indicated her own fear. “He could die just as easily.”

Moody approached, meeting her steady gaze. “His family has quite a lot of dark ties. Something you better remember before you go trying to stick your nose into the things any further. Now off with you.”

Hermione pressed her lips together, preventing herself from saying anything more. He clearly wished to end the conversation, so she obliged and left the room. Already too much occupied her mind. Although Moody seemed reliable from a general point of view, she wavered when it came to actually believing his innocence. Yet to accuse him so readily felt as bad as thinking the one responsible for the Chamber of Secrets was Hagrid. Hermione required more information, a solidified clue to base her ideals on. When would the chance to dig further arrive? Perhaps the library may once more come in handy. If not for the late hour, she’d go there now.

Rather, Hermione slowly headed back to the common room. She didn’t expect to see the Hogwarts champions. Cedric gave a polite smile of which she returned, however Draco avoided meeting her gaze completely. He sauntered by, lacking any indication of noticing her at all. If he had looked, she knew exactly what the effect of making eye contact would produce. She was probably fooling herself to think he drew closer on purpose as they passed and she was hit, regardless, by a sensation of butterflies rapidly flapping their wings inside her stomach. The moment she stabilized her breathing, Hermione saw Harry trailing further behind the rest.

“I honestly didn’t think they’d keep you so long,” Hermione commented, slowing down to a full stop. Despite her qualms, she kept herself composed. “Sorry to say, but Neville got a rather poor grade. His potion came out all wrong.”

“I sort of expected as much.” Harry sighed. Snape’s class seemed so far away, almost as if the importance of it dwindled significantly between then and now. “Rita Skeeter conducted our interviews. She’s going to make me out as some kid who’s distraught over the death of his parents. Of course, it bothers me terribly, but not so much then that my eyes were glistening with the ghosts of my past.”

“I don’t understand why they’d use her of all people.” Hermione shook her head, starting to walk once more. “I’m sure not everyone believes what they read in the paper, Harry. It may not even be as bad as you think.”

“Yeah, maybe.” He attempted to shake it off, not wanting to indulge his irritation. “I shouldn’t be involved in the competition in the first place. Malfoy, surprisingly, looks like he’s taking it in stride. For the most part. He just enjoys the attention, I suppose.”

Hermione knew as much, seeing as his attempts to gain it weren’t exactly well hidden. If she took a deeper look, played the very few scenes she witnessed between himself and his family in her head, a different side of him emerged. Not so diverse from the boy she hardly knew, nonetheless new aspects came to life.

“Hold on a moment.” Harry lightly grabbed hold of Hermione’s arm to prevent her from going further up the staircase. He might as well say it before they reached the common room. “Malfoy and I got into a bit of an argument and well, if he starts bothering you, more so than usual anyway, it’s likely my fault.”

For whatever reason, he felt awkward uttering the words, a little less so than if surrounded by others. Harry looked up at her, having stopped her one step ahead of himself, and saw a slight altercation in her expression prior to any verbal reply.

“I’m perfectly capable of handling myself.” She tried her best to lose her defensive tone, choosing to grip the railing as if the action helped steady her voice. “I understand how difficult the whole thing must be for you, but getting into fights won’t help any. What did you say?”

Harry almost let his vexation of the situation out. How could she or anyone else possibly understand what he was going through? He forced himself to swallow the retort, letting it settle unevenly.

“I asked him what’s going on between the two of you. I don’t think he appreciated the question. I mean, I can’t be the only one noticing it.” He shrugged, hoping to portray the innocence in the reason behind the inquiry. “When I told him to leave you alone, he said he’d do exactly the opposite.”

Hermione wondered what he meant by it. She tried so hard to maintain her feelings. Whenever Draco came near, she lost all ability to think straight. He chased away a level of security she encased her heart in years ago, when he started treating her poorly back in their second year.

“Oh.” The syllable quietly left her lips, as if the news appeared inconsequential. “Honestly, I’m not overly worried. In fact, Malfoy will be so busy, I suppose he’ll hardly remember saying one thing or another. On a different note, I was going to get started on some homework. I could help you with Transfiguration, if you need it. I know you’re having a bit of trouble.”

Although Harry noticed the change of topic, he welcomed it. “Yeah, sure. I doubt I’ll have loads of time to do it later. I can barely keep my attention in class since the first task’s just around the corner. Whatever it might be.”

It surprised Hermione, once they passed through the entrance into the common room, that Ron willingly approached. Yet he did no more than mumble a sentence or two and shove a letter into Harry’s hands, lacking so much as a goodbye before returning to Dean’s side.

“It’s from Sirius.” Harry beckoned her towards the window, allowing Hermione to cover him from prying eyes. He hastily tore it open, quick to read its contents. “He wants to talk face-to-face by the fire at one in the morning on the twenty-second of November. He said it's too risky to say everything he'd like to incase the owl was intercepted.”

[sheinthatfandom]

Time to make my Worlds End predictions.

Even though it’s not until tomorrow I’m feeling pretty good and wanna focus on something that makes me happy soooo wrestling. Gonna just put everything under the cut cause it’s a lot of matches and I have thoughts.

Zero hour

20 man battle royale. Not putting the pic cause there’s no faces anyway.

Why are we having a battle royale for the PPV this coulda been a womens match. Oh or a women’s battle royale. I have no idea who in this but since Lee Moriarty isn’t already on any posters for this PPV I want him to win. Scorpio sky should not be in this or wardlow just no neither should go near this belt again. Also is Chuck healed yet? I’ll also accept Chuck winning

The dream is for Yuta to walk out with two belts. Realistically, never gonna happen. Hook has never lost clean and after the last loss he shouldn’t lose to shenanigans again. What I do want is for Yuta to bring the monster out of hook. I want this to be a blood bath and for both of them to get the crowd on their feet and chanting fight forever. I want when this match is over for the ftw belt to mean the bloodiest hardcore shit in aew. Hook is most likely winning this but I want it to feel deserved.

Andrade lost the c2 and with CJ still gone after the infection/surgery it would make sense for him to lose because she’s not around to cheer him on and manage him to greatness. This should be miros match to win but it would be great if Andrade mimicked some of miros moves making it seem like CJ might have taught Andrade her own husbands stuff. That’s for commentary to put over but if it’s the usual folks I doubt they’d do that and will most likely be talking about what they had for lunch 🙄

So originally it was gonna be Kyle but I guess now we’re getting Takeshita. Which to me means they didn’t want the losing team to be3 people with belts so they moved him out. Hopefully it’s that and not an injury. Either way fuck this match Takeshita shoulda been in the battle royale. The only good thing about this match is Ricky and Will (Hobbs) being on the same team again and it could be interesting seeing them move fluidly together and Bill like 👀 are you trying to take a big booty princess???? Especially when Ricky makes it such a point that he and bill don’t know each other aren’t close aren’t friends and don’t even have a tag name and it’s all on purpose and by design. (Because the last person he trusted was will and will went after his neck.) And then Jericho is out here naming himself after nazi sympathizers. We already know whose winning and I hate it all.

IF SWERVE DONT WIN I WILL PERSONALLY SHOVE MY FOOT UP TKS NARROW ASS!!!! This man needs to be put on the fast path to the world title and losing to Lee when I don’t see any legitimate story for Lee after this ain’t it. If they have to let it be Nana coming in with shenanigans and run this back when Swerve is world champ.

I hope everyone has fun 🥰🥰

I’m hoping Lethal gets knocked tf out early and we can just watch everyone fuck nasty for 20 mins before Danny pins Lethal for the win. (And then we get Danny in a winners room with only the BCC cause he’s a good boy and deserves it) also Danny should wear the panties since he’s teaming with Bryan. 🥵

As much as I’m done with Christian as tnt champ adam doesn’t deserve it. I personally want Christian to walk out with the belt. But I can see tk giving it to Adam and with no dq maybe lucha helps adam and turns on Christian to keep a story going. But again I don’t want Adam to win here.

I love you mox so much you’re my fave wrestler in the history of forever you are the heart and soul of professional wrestling… buuuuut Eddie is and should be the one to walk out with 3 belts. The story that has been building not even for months for years is for Eddie to take this and it’s the only ending. Nothing else this is for Eddie

I’m not ready for Toni to lose the belt and I’ve never been a riho fan. I don’t hate her but I def don’t see her as champion at least not for aew. If Toni does lose it would be cause Mariah cost her but again I don’t want that. It could also be Mariah’s first match be against riho cause she costs riho this match if they don’t want riho to lose clean.

I want mjf to win only because I do not want Joe as a transitional champion and I really really want swerve to get the belt early in 2024. The devil needs to show his face already. Also who tf is our roh tag team champs right now? It better be the kingdom. Plus if joe loses and he willingly gave up his tv belt like can you imagine how unhinged he will be? It’s gonna be so sexy 😏 and then imagine zack poking him like Samoa Joseph I guess we know whose the greatest television champ is don’t we. This man is gonna be a menace if he loses will make it everyones problem.

Here’s hoping the devil is Adam or Kyle 🤞

[polscisucks]

Tw: long vent

as awful as I feel worrying about my sister being a point of contingency in my household, I know deep in my heart that if it wasn’t here it would be something else. My parents just aren’t people that enjoy spending time together and they have told me as much. I feel sorry for my sister in that sense.

I wish I could listen to my friends and my therapist and even my own parents and stop caring so much about what goes on there, but I can’t. It chafes at my heart and I feel like a fist is holding it hostage, unable to do anything else or focus, until I know what’s going on.

Today a friend’s grandpa had a surgery. Life or death stuff. She didn’t knew if he would survive or not and she couldn’t think of anything else. She told me “the uncertainty is the worst part”. I know I’m not anywhere near her level but I can’t help but wonder: Did he hit my mom? Is my sister okay? Are they screaming at each other again? Is someone bleeding?

I asked myself if I could create a realistic impression on my mind about what’s the worst and best case scenario, but I realize I can’t trust my father at all to keep calm. If I learned something at all in the awful year that was 2024 is that men aren’t to be trusted and whatever expectations of minimum humanity you place on them they are unable to reach. So no I don’t know what his limits are or how nasty he can get with both my mom and my sister. I feel as if there’s a hand holding my throat.

My mom tells me things are okay but I’m terrified still because I find myself not believing her. She wouldn’t tell me if things are fine. The only way to know is to go there personally but I CAN’T STAND IT I stop being a person at my parent’s house. And I can’t decide if the constant screaming and violence— interrupted only by more or less expansive rhetoric intermissions of a tension I don’t wish on anyone— is better than this uncertainty of not actually being there.

I wish I didn’t care. I wish I was able to rip out my heart from my chest and to pierce my frontal lobe and force myself to think of literally anything else but I can’t. And even if I cut my arms or legs I don’t think that would make me feel even less worried as it used to do, even in a basic level. I’ll probably worry about my mom seeing them and blaming herself again.

Speaking of which, my mom needs some new friends like. So so badly. I’ve seen her cry so many times about how lonely she feels and I try my best to be with her every time I can but I can’t. I can’t be her only friend and she has to go out and talk to more people but she refuses to and it’s hurting me so deeply. It’s so frustrating.

God I just. I can’t even wish I was born in a different family because I *can’t* imagine a “me” without all this baggage. This shit has been going on since I was 10, perhaps even longer. And now we have to deal with this fucking pedophile that abused my sister.

God. I can’t tell anyone because the only people I think I would feel better telling are men. Men who have power over me and who would be able to make things easier for me if they could UNDERSTAND but men can’t men are stupid. When I told them about what happened in April they told me I was crazy they treated me like I needed help and I NEEDED HELP but they acted like that was somehow shameful. They stepped away like I was shit on their shoe. Perhaps men can smell it, when women have been abused, and they advice each other to stay away. To not deal with the crazy woman in the attic who is suffering so much. Surely she can suffer alone.

It’s even worse when my own friends— so called “feminists”— tell me “oh, he’s old” or “oh, he’s a man” as if that means I should forgive him for not looking at me with even an ounce of compassion while I was falling apart when the clear implication here is that men are subhuman.

I’m glad I have women. Women have been my refuge. All my female friends have shown me care and love and understanding. Most have gone through similar things. I’m happy because I’m loved and I’m understood and I have friends now. But it makes it only more painful sometimes to think about my mom and how lonely she must be. Or my sister, who was bullied so badly by kids at her school she fell directly into the hands of this predator.

Loving them so much hurts. But I can’t wish I could stop caring. I don’t want to stop caring and I don’t know if it’s because deep down I know love is about feeling someone else’s pain and not wanting it any other way or because I’m simply self harming some other way now (I’ve been counting calories again that’s not a good sign). I wish they could be happy. I wish I didn’t live in a shitty world where men ruin women with marriage and little children with their perversions.

I know nothing will be solved by crying or by staying paralyzed by fear and uncertainty but at this point I don’t know what else to do. Every waking moment it’s in the back of my mind.

[tallmantall]

James Donaldson on Mental Health - Talking about suicide is hard but critical

James Donaldson on Mental Health - Talking about suicide is hard but critical In Canada, 12 people die by suicide each day. Saving lives starts with courageous conversations. By Diana Ballon ? In the obituary for Andrea Haman, a former colleague of mine who ended her life in 2022, her husband, David Begg, asked that, in lieu of flowers, we have “open and brave discussions about suicide.” Haman’s suicide was a profound tragedy that affected me greatly. We had both researched and written about the neurobiology of mental health problems before being laid off from Toronto’s Centre for Addiction and Mental Health (CAMH) near the beginning of the pandemic. But her husband’s request was one that felt long overdue. In my own family, suicide was a topic that was also mired in secrecy. When my dad’s brother Jon, a Montreal cardiologist and president of the Quebec Heart Foundation, died in 1974, my parents told my siblings and me he’d had a heart attack. It wasn’t until around 1990 that a relative referenced “Jon’s suicide,” having no idea that we’d never been told. Because I’m writing about the need for transparency, I have to acknowledge that I’ve also had thoughts of ending my life. Although this dark period was mostly during my 20s, it was a time when I couldn’t see a way to climb out of my depression and felt like I had nothing good to offer. It’s common to feel shame about being unable to cope, and that makes it scary to talk to others about how you’re feeling. Meanwhile, others are often scared to bring up the topic with you. What I know now is that we must talk about suicide. According to the most recent Statistics Canada findings, about 12 people a day in Canada die by suicide — many of whom have a diagnosable psychiatric illness. People who are marginalized, discriminated against, bullied and victims of violence also have alarmingly high rates of suicide. While suicide isn’t always preventable, removing the stigma around it means those who are struggling will be more willing to confide in others — and get help. As Begg later said to me, “In hindsight, I wish I had broached the subject . Maybe I was afraid to broach it, afraid of what her answer might be.” Begg adds that he had known Haman felt shame about her condition, but he hadn’t thought that it would lead to suicide. Jon’s son was only 12 when his father died by suicide, and yet he still speaks with regret. “If it had been a different era when alcoholism was recognized as a disease and not a personal failing, might have been able to reach out for help….I do believe he had friends and family who loved him very much and would have helped him,” he says. “Suicide is permanent, but depression and alcoholism are temporary conditions that can be treated.” Part of what is so scary about suicide is that it can reflect irrational thinking: in the deepest depths of depression, people may cease to see their life realistically and might end up acting from an overly pessimistic place. In the two months before Haman died, “Everything she saw was through the lens of fear, but magnified to the worst it could possibly be,” says Begg. When her employment insurance ran out, she thought they would lose the house. When she went to sign up for a mindfulness anxiety support program, she thought Children’s Aid would find out about her mental state and take her kids away. And before committing to doing some freelance work, she thought there would be legal consequences if she didn’t complete it. But before that, Begg says that Haman would have thought the idea of ending her life was “ludicrous,” and that it would have been inconceivable to her to leave her sons, who were 11 and 16 at the time. “She went from functioning well to severe anxiety within a period of a couple of weeks,” says Begg, with anxiety affecting her sleep and insomnia increasing her anxiety in a kind of spiral. Suicide is obviously tragic for the person who dies, but also for what a 2022 Canadian Community Health Survey estimated to be seven to 10 people who are significantly affected by the loss. When I look back on my uncle’s death, I recall my dad being not just sad but angry. I wonder if, had I known what really happened, I could have tried to talk to him about how he was feeling. I don’t judge Haman for ending her life. I was not inside her darkness. But I do wish she had been able to once again see the glimmers of life, to see and feel the love that was around her, to enjoy what had once lifted her spirits: nature, a canoe ride, a walk along a city street, her family. There are no easy answers, but we need to ask outright if we are concerned someone might be suicidal, and to listen if someone is in distress. “I’ve always tried to use plain and direct language in talking about suicide. Euphemism is how discomfort is couched,” says David Goldbloom, a retired CAMH psychiatrist who is also my cousin. “Every person I’ve met over the last 40 years who has struggled with moderate to severe depression has thought about suicide in some way. Bringing the discussion into the open is, I believe, an act of empathy, understanding and hope.” Fortunately, I was able to get through those dark times to enjoy my amazing family and friends, experience a fulfilling career and — like Haman — have a partner and two children of my own. It was about having hope (and a good therapist) and trusting that life would get better, even though at the time I didn’t rationally know how. For the family, friends and others touched by a suicide, we need to be there emotionally and practically as they cope with their loss. Maybe that means offering to notify others or helping with the funeral arrangements. Or maybe it’s simply inviting them to talk about the person who has died so they can feel their presence as they speak, and for us to really listen to how they are feeling. #James Donaldson notes:Welcome to the “next chapter” of my life… being a voice and an advocate for #mentalhealthawarenessandsuicideprevention, especially pertaining to our younger generation of students and student-athletes.Getting men to speak up and reach out for help and assistance is one of my passions. Us men need to not suffer in silence or drown our sorrows in alcohol, hang out at bars and strip joints, or get involved with drug use.Having gone through a recent bout of #depression and #suicidalthoughts myself, I realize now, that I can make a huge difference in the lives of so many by sharing my story, and by sharing various resources I come across as I work in this space.  #http://bit.ly/JamesMentalHealthArticleFind out more about the work I do on my 501c3 non-profit foundationwebsite www.yourgiftoflife.org Order your copy of James Donaldson's latest book,#CelebratingYourGiftofLife: From The Verge of Suicide to a Life of Purpose and Joy www.celebratingyourgiftoflife.com Link for 40 Habits Signupbit.ly/40HabitsofMentalHealth If you'd like to follow and receive my daily blog in to your inbox, just click on it with Follow It. Here's the link https://follow.it/james-donaldson-s-standing-above-the-crowd-s-blog-a-view-from-above-on-things-that-make-the-world-go-round?action=followPub Read the full article

[reinterlacing]

I'm about to start taking apart my lan (local area network for you witchy mosscore types) in the house I came to in 2019 hoping to find solace and a place to recover.

I'll disconnect the tiny PC and the even tinier tech box + hard drive, and the network switch, and battery backup which make up my little indie "data center" that I built from cheap and cast-off parts. I'll take down the router in the basement and the one upstairs that formed a wifi bridge around the huge chimney so I could work in a bedroom while the servers lived next to the ethernet drop in the cool dark downstairs.

I'm bringing all this with me and will set it up in another basement - one where I can potentially leave it for a while - in a house where I don't know if I can stay more than another few weeks or a month or two.

I came out here with a lot of hope. that hope is now gone, replaced by other hope that's lesser in scope but perhaps more realistic.

I learned a lot.

I learned a bunch of technologies which I taught myself on those doorstop computers - just like when I was 16 and my father saw me using a computer I built in a literal cardboard box and had nothing to contribute. back then I taught myself assembly language out of a library book. in this case it was vital skills I missed from 2014 onward.

I learned people have widely differing ideas when it comes to core values like friendship, loyalty, duty of concern, and so forth. "people" very much including me. I've hurt others due to my own questionable values in that regard and now I know it. my own inability to communicate under certain conditions also did not help.

I learned that every molecule of extroversion within me is "affiliative" - the drive to love & be loved - rather than "agentic" - the desire to project & be seen. a lot of people seem to prefer agentic extroversion, and I learned I have very little to say to those who do.

I lost my best friend & confidant of 30 years, I haven't even begun to be able to address that, and quite frankly, nobody gives a shit.

I honestly don't know what to say or do at this point and am just grateful to have found some Zen teachings along the lines of "before enlightenment, chopping wood and carrying water; after enlightenment, chopping wood and carrying water."

lately people have been having opinions on how I should or shouldn't be doing things. the common thread among all these people is that they have expended minimal effort to understand why I do what I do in the way that I do. accordingly, their opinions on the subject are of little use to me.

I found out the mother who I've had no contact with in many years, whose mind was gone not long after I broke it off, is dying. it wasn't a shock. only in the past few months did I reach sufficient insight on the shit she did to have compassion for her as a human being, and she didn't have anywhere near the 30 years it took for me to get there, extended as the journey was by her bad behavior, lack of insight, and lack of ability to build another human being up rather than tear them down. I needed, and need, a lot of support which I never got.

I treasure my newfound wisdom, but overall, I feel diminished by the past 5 years especially.

at this point I just want to find someone to be naked with - I think if you're still reading you know what I mean by this, or close enough anyhow - who'll be my ride or die and I'll be their ride or die until the wheels really do come off this whole absurd circus or until we're gone, whichever comes first.

I always thought sure that'd happen. I thought sure. even thru all the time being an awkward kid and an awkward adult, I was sure I'd eventually find my constant, and then I would finally be able to put all the hungry restless miles behind me and devote myself to her and to us.

it's hard to overstate how central this is to my identity. people usually wanna sell some individualistic platitudes at this point, but I am long past that bullshit. I am absolutely meant to be part of a dyad and I function so much better within a healthy one.

and now I have to admit, decades late at pointing out the obvious, that the odds don't really seem very good.

I don't know how much fight I have left in me, probably it'd be none but for the continued availability of a very long pharmaceutical supply chain. but those pills are some good shit; I know I'll keep getting up as long as that prescription keeps showing up.

for the position I'm in, I'm in a pretty good position: a nearly-complete 1-man survival gear loadout, a collection of computer bits sufficient to do indie remote work from most anywhere in the lower 48 and in many other countries, and a paid 3-month SIM card.

I can pull 40 bucks an hour even with absolute shit-tier reliability because of my skillset, and I can make a lot more than that if I can ever get stable again. I just need a quiet private space without a bunch of random shit going on in it, especially addiction.

I am a homebody. I need a home. me without a kitchen and plants is already approaching tragic, now please if you are going to be present with me at all, understand that I, need, a home.

and the reality is, I don't think I'm going to have one for a long time yet, if ever.

[aflyingcontradiction]

The Magnus Archives Relisten: Episode 188 - Centre of Attention

Jon: She did want to be friends. But she also wanted us suspicious, off-balance, uncomfortable. She wanted to be able to hurt us.

After this line Martin points out that this is a contradiction and Jon claims it is not, but I actually maintain that it is (a friend who actively wants to harm you isn't a bad friend, they're just not a friend) and I actually think it's better if you do read it as a complete contradiction but still as the truth because - well - isn't that kind of brain-breaking stuff what the Spiral is all about?

Jon: Then when Helen Richardson came in, it seemed like… she was in the same place I was, but worse, further along. I thought, maybe if I could help her, that would mean… maybe I wasn’t beyond help? Martin: I’m sorry for how it worked out.

TMA continues to be a tragedy in the "doomed from the start but still by their own decisions" sense.

Martin: D-Do they ever leave the windows, or…

I am very much imagining every window filled with that stereotype of a German retiree with nothing better to do than to watch (and, if you get a particularly lovely specimen, report to the police) everything going on in front of their window. Because I've met those and they are, in fact, TERRIFYING.

Martin: And the cameras?

I've been to actual non-apocalyptic London and "Wow, there's a lot of cameras!" was a thought I had back then, too. London of all places being the centre of the Eye's power is so, so fitting.

She had once counted how many times she could spot a camera watching her during her morning run: thirty-one in ten minutes.

If you're not currently also listening to this episode, please note that this is the PRE-APOCALYPSE count and I'm pretty sure it's realistic. HELL WORLD.

‘It’s late,’ the flatmate said, her tone level. Carmen’s throat tightened. ‘I am trying to sleep. This is not acceptable.’ (...) What time was it? She hadn’t been making any noise, how had her flatmate known? This was her room, her space, she was allowed to be awake, she was–

Well, if this isn't a highly familiar scenario from the thousands of times that my anxiety brain has created something damn near indistinguishable out of thin air (or at best, based on memories of some judgmental asshole or other who had long passed out of my life or was, perhaps, only in it for long enough to ruin my day)

There were memories, flashes of lying on the ground, desperate for someone, anyone, to help. But they had just watched silently. Some had taken videos.

And given the trend of taking videos of unsuspecting people in public, this is yet another scenario that has absolutely entered my catalogue of recurring anxieties. (Cf. above: HELL WORLD!)

She could do what she liked and it would harm nobody. So why didn’t she feel it? Why was there still that small, panicked buzzing in the back of her mind that told her something could see her. That she was not alone.

I have, at times, half-convinced myself that there's hidden cameras in my living space and someone, somewhere will see me making a fool of myself or being disgusting, even when I'm completely alone, so ... yeah ...

My impression of this episode

Despite the fact that the entirety of The Magnus Archives is set up around the Eye, this episode manages like no other to really distill the essence of what is so terrifying about that particular Entity (at least for me, your mileage may vary...). Rather aptly, I feel quite seen by this statement. This, along with that one Lonely domain statement that had me absolutely bawling my eyes out multiple times, may be the most memorable statement for me in this season of TMA.