#there are more prompts that will be involved with this

[daxhalfawake]

FUCK.

So, I knew some of this bc my step-grandmother-in-law got COVID and insisted it was allergies and was dead from a stroke caused by a weird blood clot that they know is a type that happens in long COVID literally 6 months later. And I got COVID last year, despite doing everything I could not to, because my wife's boss came back to work too soon, without testing negative. I was 5 weeks pregnant. My wife's infection involved mostly wheezing and coughing and shortness of breath. I had a fever of 102°, a migraine, bad congestion and a gross cough. We both had the body aches real bad.

My COVID infection triggered essential hypertension (high blood pressure, I'm 30 [29 when I got COVID] and wasn't eating too poorly then, but I do eat better now). My blood pressure was consistently reading at stroke-risk levels and I had to go on blood pressure meds. I've had several other new or worsening health issues since the infection that my doctors have yet to pinpoint the cause of, but we haven't been focused on the cause because I was very sick and the cause wouldn't be environmental.

But on the neurological/brain damage - I got COVID, had 2 miscarriages, then fell into derealization for 8 months so I thought that was most of it but like there are things I never got with derealization before and that haven't gotten better since coming out of it.

I type a phrase I've been using correctly my entire life and then stare at it bc it looks wrong and I don't know why but I can't send it if it's wrong (spoiler: it has never actually been wrong). I've started using words that I haven't used since high school - problematic ones that I stopped even thinking about using bc they were problematic - and I have been horrified at myself despite most of these words having been used only in my own company. I literally have to remind myself that we don't use that word anymore if it pops into my head because my filters are also off now. My eyes unfocus and I cannot get them to refocus. And I use the wrong words sometimes, words that don't even make sense in reference to the one I need - but that one's getting better. I can't remember things like I used to. Like I have memory issues and have my whole life, don't get me wrong - I'm ADHD and I have cPTSD - but this is different. Because I also have a selective photographic memory and I used to be able to walk myself backwards to find things I put in weird places with ease and now I lose everything for way too long and it triggers autistic meltdowns. My brain fog from my various conditions is significantly worse - to the extent that even on my Adderall, my mind will go completely empty while I am in the middle of speaking a sentence and I will lose my entire train of thought and not be able to remember without prompting from an active listener to the conversation; sometimes not even then.

Literally TONIGHT, in the aftermath of an autistic meltdown I was trying to articulate to my wife why I need more mental processing time in the middle of a conversation, and I mentioned that sometimes I'm trying to keep up with the conversation and her words stop being English to my brain. Not being able to understand words is mentioned in this article from Harvard University, and I have been becoming INCREASINGLY AND INCREDIBLY FRUSTRATED with the fact that I "all of a sudden" started having these episodes where someone is talking to me and their words start out okay and then they flip and it sounds like a garbled mess of sounds, not even words.

I just want to remind people that it’s 2024 and we didn’t “go thru a pandemic” we are “going thru a pandemic” present tense. It is still happening. People are still get sick, still becoming disabled, and still dying. Covid hasn’t gone away and I beg people to not normalize getting sick with it.

[the-offside-rule]

Lando Norris (McLaren) - Two Hands pt. I

Requested: yes

Prompt: this ask

Warnings: tensionnn and Im making this a two part series

Part 2 [coming soon]

The sun was barely peeking over the Hollywood skyline when Y/n arrived on set, coffee in hand and a spark of excitement in her step. The concept for her and Tate McRae’s new music video, Two Hands, had come together beautifully, sleek visuals, a sultry tone, and a storyline that mirrored the tension in their song. Y/n adjusted the strap of her dress as she walked onto the music video set, the sound of crew members shouting instructions filling the air. Tate McRae was standing off to the side, scrolling through her phone. She looked up and waved, her usual bright smile lighting up her face. "Hey, you made it!" Tate greeted as Y/n approached.

"Yeah, traffic was insane, but I'm here." Y/n replied, setting her bag down on a nearby chair. "What's the plan for today?" Before Tate could answer, a familiar voice cut through the air. "Y/n?" Her heart dropped as she turned around to see him. And there he stood, hands casually tucked into his hoodie pockets, his signature grin plastered on his face.

Lando fucking Norris.

Her breath hitched at the sight of him, his familiar mischievous grin lighting up as he looked her up and down. "It’s been a while." He said, striding toward her. Y/n froze, coffee nearly slipping from her grip as her mind flashing back to the string of nights they’d spent together during last season. Miami. Montreal. Silverstone. Austin. Vegas. Each memory was vivid and unshakable, and now here he was, standing on the set of her music video like it was the most normal thing in the world. "Uh, yeah, it has." She replied, attempting nonchalance.

Tate, always attuned to Y/n’s moods, sidled up beside her. "Y/n? You good?" She whispered. "Can we- can you come with me real quick?" Y/n asked, dragging Tate along to the other side of the parking lot. "Dude. What’s wrong?" Tate asked. "What's wrong?" Y/n hissed back. "What’s wrong is that Lando Norris is here, and I wasn’t told he’d be in this video." Tate smirked. "He’s the cameo. PR gold. You didn’t know?"

"No!" Y/n exclaimed under her breath. "And, oh my god- jesus- Tate, we’ve slept together!" Tate’s eyes widened before her lips curled into a sly grin. "Oh my god! Like a one might stand sorta thing?" She chuckled. "More like five seperate nights." Tate raised an eyebrow. "Five? Wow, okay, overachiever."

"This isn’t funny." Y/n groaned. "What are we supposed to do now?" Tate sighed. "It’s a little late to change things. He’s already here. Besides, we’ll just cut his scenes later if it’s too weird. PR can spin some excuse for why he’s missing in the final cut." Y/n groaned but nodded reluctantly. "Fine. But if this blows up, you owe me."

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

The shoot began smoothly enough. The video was set to showcase Tate and Y/n doing what they do best; giving their fans an iconic music video, with a storyline involving sleek cars, night drives, and bold choreography. Lando's role was to add a touch of glamour as a cameo, driving a papaya McLaren around the streets at night.

The day progressed faster than Y/n anticipated. Tate was her usual cheeky self, keeping the mood light despite the awkward tension simmering whenever Lando was around. The big moment came as the crew prepped the McLaren for a scene where Y/n would ride in the passenger seat while Lando drove through neon-lit streets. "Just lipsync the lyrics while he drives." The director instructed. "We’re going for sexy but understated." Understated. Sure. Y/n climbed into the car, her heart pounding.

The beat thumped in her ears as the car accelerated. She turned to Lando, his hands confidently gripping the steering wheel. His smirk was still there, but something new flickered in his gaze as her lips curled into the sultry line: "I want them all to see, you look good on top of me." Lando’s jaw tightened, his eyes darting to hers as she sang. "At this time, at night I need. Not one, not three." Y/n caught the way his lips twitched, almost imperceptibly, and then, he bit his lip.

Oh, so we’re doing this?

Fine. If he was flustered, she’d make it worth his discomfort. Y/n leaned in, her hand sliding up to tangle in his hair as she pulled his face toward her. Their eyes locked, her lips barely brushing his ear as she whispered the lyrics. "Just your two hands on me. Like my life needs saving." His breath hitched audibly, and for a split second, she wondered if he might slam on the brakes. "Let 'em all know. Can you do it like that?"

"Cut!" The director’s voice crackled through the radio. They broke apart instantly, and the silence that followed was deafening. Y/n avoided his gaze, fixing her hair and pretending nothing had happened. When she returned to set for the dance break, Tate was waiting with her arms crossed and a knowing smirk. "You two looked awfully comfortable." Tate teased, bumping Y/n’s shoulder. "Almost like you’ve done it before."

Y/n shot her a withering glare. "Shut up."

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

The buzz of the set hummed around Y/n as she sat on the sidelines, watching Tate film her solo dance scene. The spotlight followed Tate’s movements, her fluidity captivating, but Y/n’s focus wavered when she caught a glimpse of Lando approaching out of the corner of her eye.

Damn it.

"Fancy seeing you here." Lando said, casually sliding into the chair beside her. His voice was light, but his eyes held an intensity that made her pulse quicken. "It’s not like I had a choice." Y/n replied flatly, crossing her arms. "I have a job to do and you just so happen to be here." He chuckled softly, the sound low and familiar. "Still, feels like fate."

"More like bad luck." She shot back, keeping her tone cool even as her stomach fluttered. Lando leaned in slightly, his cologne teasing her senses. "You’re as sharp as ever." He murmured, a smile tugging at his lips. "I missed you." Y/n snorted, more out of defense than amusement. "Missed me? Please. You missed me in your bed, maybe." His grin faltered, replaced by something more serious, more vulnerable. "To be fair, you never gave me the chance to miss you anywhere else."

The weight of his words hung in the air, and Y/n’s breath caught in her throat. She turned to look at him, his face so close she could see the faint stubble on his jaw. He wasn’t joking. "Look, I know this is...complicated. But I want to see you. Away from all this; no racing, no music videos, just us." Y/n blinked, stunned. Her lips parted to respond, but before she could form the words, Sean, the choreographer, clapped his hands loudly from across the set. "Y/n! Let’s go! Dance break!" She exhaled sharply, grateful for the reprieve, and turned on her heel. "Duty calls." She said briskly, walking away before Lando could reply.

As she approached the center of the set, Tate intercepted her, her eyes twinkling with curiosity. "You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost."

"I’m fine." Y/n lied, waving a dismissive hand. Tate’s smirk told her she wasn’t convinced, but she didn’t push. Instead, she gestured toward the floor. "Alright, let’s get this over with. Sean’s in full perfectionist mode." Y/n nodded, forcing herself to focus as Sean began shouting instructions, his energy bouncing around the room. She positioned herself in front of the camera, her muscles tightening in anticipation.

The music started, the beat pounding through her body, and she threw herself into the choreography, letting the rhythm drown out the lingering tension in her chest. But as her feet moved and her body swayed, her mind betrayed her, replaying Lando’s words over and over like a melody she couldn’t shake.

Just us

[willowsnook]

Let me in

Hi! Love your idea for a prompt list. Can I order: A turkey swiss on wheat bread, maybe mike’s way if you feel like it’s fitting for the sandwich?

Joe burrow x bsf!reader

Please don’t leave

—-----------------------------------------

Fall in Cincinnati was something that you loved. The trees changed colors, you could start leaving your windows open, and, of course, Bengals football. Now, you’d never claim that you were a die-hard fan, that was still reserved for your beloved Green Bay Packers, but after 5 years in the city, they were a solid 2nd favorite. Plus, being good friends with the starting quarterback meant you had to root for them. 

You met Joe at a charity event a year after you moved to Ohio. Working for a Cincinnati-specific lifestyle magazine, your recommendations and reviews had made you quite well known in the city. Your strategy was always finding small, hidden gem places, usually family-owned, to review and elevate. This fulfilled your need to make a difference and also get paid to eat food. 

While your job was so public and in the spotlight, you were pretty introverted, which surprised a lot of people. You didn’t necessarily enjoy being the center of attention, focusing more on making those around you shine. This meant that while you were appreciative of being recognized by the community, you hated going to big events; you’d much rather just be writing about them. 

So when the introverted star of Cincinnati joined you in the shadows of an event, the two of you hit it off. Knowing who you were, his PR team had noticed and pitched a content series involving Joe. You spent a whole day with him, going to places he recommended and giving instant reviews. Initially, you were worried about it being awkward because you didn’t know him well, but you both had a blast. Joe was easy to talk to, and he liked that you treated him like anyone else. 

After that, he’d invited you to hang out with his friends several times, and Ja’marr really liked you, insisting that you be added to the friend group. Since then, you’d spent the last couple of years being forced to go to every home Bengals game, but you could also easily force one of them to help you with some kind of content for work. A mutually beneficial friendship you thought. 

Midway through the week, you were back at your apartment, taking pictures of some cookies someone sent you to be considered for an upcoming article you were writing. You snapped the perfect picture just as your phone rang, and you looked over to see it was Joe calling. 

“What’s up?” You said, putting the phone on speaker. 

“I’m bored. Can I come hang?” He asked. 

“Yeah, I’m doing some work, but I’ll be done soon.”

“Okay, I’m on my way.” 

You were used to Joe calling you randomly to hang out, especially when the season was going poorly. One thing you learned in your years of friendship with him was that he didn’t like to be alone, mostly so he didn’t spiral thinking about everything. You were happy to be a friend he could lean on. 

15 minutes later, you heard your front door open and smiled as Joe wandered into the kitchen. He gave you a small squeeze from behind as you leaned over your laptop. 

“Are you doing anything with these?” He asked, and you looked over at the cookies. 

“No, I just got done. Have at it,” you replied, amused as he shoveled one into his mouth. 

“These are pretty good,” he said, swallowing. “But I’ve had better.”

“Hmm,” you thought. “What don’t you like about them?”

“Too grainy,” he said, and you agreed, unable to think of what you were feeling. 

“That’s a good point; I’m using that,” you said, typing it down in your notes. 

“Watch out, I’m going to steal your job,” he joked, and you smirked. 

“Does that mean I get yours?”

“You’d probably do a better job than me right now,” he said, and you frowned, shutting your laptop. 

“You are still a superstar, even when you lose,” you told him earnestly, getting a small smile from him. 

“I think I need you with a headset on to tell me that during the games,” he said, and you laughed. 

“Yeah yeah,” you replied, blushing. “Want to take a walk or something? I need to get out of the house.” 

“Yeah, let’s go.”

The two of you walked down the street and ventured towards the water, chatting about upcoming events and his family coming to visit. You started to get chilly and held your arms briefly before Joe noticed. He pulled his hoodie off with one hand and handed it to you, not even stopping what he was saying. You pulled it on, inhaled the lingering cologne, and sighed. 

“Will you come to dinner with us tomorrow night?” he asked, jolting you back to reality.

“With your parents?” you asked, and he nodded. “Would that not be a little weird?”

“Why would it be weird?” 

“I don't know. I just wouldn’t want them to think we were dating or anything,” you said, confused. Joe frowned at that, but you didn’t have time to analyze it. 

“Ja’marr is coming too,” he said. “You are both my best friends, so I’d like you to meet them.” 

“Okay, if it’s important to you,” you agreed, giving in. Dinner with Joe’s parents. Huh. Sometimes you really didn’t understand why he chose you as a best friend when many people were fighting over it. If only people knew how clingy Mr. Cool was. 

—---------------------------------------------------

Ja’Marr picked you up from your place the next night and the two of you headed to dinner. 

“You look nice,” he commented, and you smiled. You and Ja’Marr had a flirty relationship, but nothing had ever come of it. One time, when you were both very drunk in the offseason, you had made out but it didn’t last long with him backing out, saying that Joe was going to kill him. You had just assumed that Joe didn’t want anyone in the friend group dating in case it got messy, which was understandable. With Ja’marr, you were mostly just attracted to him vs. wanting something more. 

“I still feel weird about this whole thing,” you admitted to him and he gave you a lazy smirk. 

“Please, they’ll love you,” he assured you. 

“That’s not what I’m worried about; I’m amazing,” you said, causing him to laugh. “I just think it’s weird and intimate. Like if my parents were in town, yeah, maybe I wouldn’t mind them meeting you guys at the game or to celebrate in a group after. But I wouldn’t invite you for a small dinner.” 

Ja’Marr gave you a look you couldn’t decipher before laughing to himself. 

“I’ll try not to take offense to that,” he said and you rolled your eyes. 

The restaurant was a nicer one that you had been to before for work. Joe’s parents stood up as you approached the table and warmly greeted you. His mom pulled you into a tight hug, laughing about how excited she was to meet you finally. You shot Ja’Marr a look and found him trying not to laugh. You could tell Joe was embarrassed, which made the situation a little amusing. 

Sitting down beside him, he gave you an easy smile while handing you the drink menu. Joe’s dad jumped into conversation with Ja’Marr about the season while Robin asked you a ton of questions about your job and basically your whole life. You ended up loving his parents; they were the sweetest people. While you might have missed the way that Joe was looking at you the whole dinner, his parents definitely did not. 

“It was so good to meet you y/n,” Robin gushed. “I’m sure we’ll see much more of you in the future.” 

You smiled, confused, while Ja’Marr couldn’t hold back his laugh. Joe’s face turned bright red and his dad chuckled. 

—------------------------------------------------

If you had thought the season was going poorly before it was a million times worse now. It seemed like each week, your two friends were putting up superstar numbers but still losing. After watching them lose by just a point to the Ravens, you clicked the TV off and sighed. Reaching for your phone you texted him a white heart and watched him read it and not reply. He usually would, even after a loss, but this one was tough so you didn’t pay much mind to it. 

As the week went on, you started to feel Joe’s tension about the team bleed into your friendship. He wasn’t answering your calls and had replied to any text you had sent him with just one word. What had really pissed you off though, was that he was supposed to shoot a Thanksgiving promo with you about places that provided free food for those who needed it and he didn’t show. 

“I get that you’re having a tough time right now and while I can live with you being a bad friend I can’t live with you 1. making me look bad professionally and 2. disappointing people making a difference. So give me a call when you figure your shit out,” you ranted to his voicemail. 

You were supposed to fly out for the game this weekend but weren’t sure if you still should. Calling Ja’Marr, you complained about Joe being a dick and that you didn’t know what to do. He assured you that you should still come and that Joe was just hurting because of the season. The best thing you could do was be there for him, even in the shadows. 

The game started out horribly with it being 24-6 leading into halftime. But a different team came out in the third quarter, and you went crazy as the Bengals got ahead. But like the week before, no matter what Joe did, even throwing for over 350 yards, they still lost in the end. You lingered by the locker room after the game and smiled sadly as you saw Ja’Marr first. He wrapped you in a hug, and he was happy to have you there. Joe on the other hand, did not look happy to see you. 

“What are you doing here?” he said coldly, and both you and Ja’Marr flinched. His teammate gave him a weird look, but Joe was just staring at you blankly. 

“I’ve had these tickets since before the season, you know that,” you replied. 

“I didn’t want you to come,” he said and you tried to ignore the hurt you felt. “Did you not get the hint from me ignoring you all week?” 

“Oh, so is that why you stood up the charity?” You bit back. “So that I would ‘get the hint’?”

Joe didn’t say anything, clenching his jaw and Ja’Marr tried to step in. 

“I wanted her to come man,” he said and Joe snapped his head towards his friend. 

“Well just fuck her then and get over it,” he replied and your jaw dropped. Ja”Marr shoved him backward, yelling at him before security intervened. You recovered from your shock and turned around, abruptly leaving the stadium. You called an Uber to take you back to the hotel, and the massive traffic gave you a lot of time to process what had just happened. 

You could understand him being upset over the game, especially since it was so fresh in his mind. But it’s not like you went up to him; he came up to you. This man was supposed to be your best friend, and he basically just called you a whore to your face. This shit was ridiculous. 

30 minutes later, you were walking into the hotel. Ja’Marr had tried calling, but you declined. You called the airline you were flying with to see if there was any chance of flying out early, and you were lucky to snag a seat on the last flight out. You quickly packed up your stuff after changing into a comfier outfit and headed down to the lobby to check out and call a car. 

Turning to head out the door you stopped as you saw Joe walking in, his eyes trained on you. He looked miserable and he made his way towards you slowly. 

“Y/n..” he started, his eyes filling up with tears, but you stopped him from saying anything else. 

“I’m leaving,” you said emotionlessly. He tried to reach out to you, but you flinched back and pain flashed across his face. 

“I need to talk to you y/n,” he begged. “Please don’t leave.” 

“Why would I stay?” You asked softly. “Goodbye, Joe.” 

You left him standing there wondering why it felt like your own heart was breaking into two. 

—-----------------------------------------------

It had been two weeks since then, and you had successfully avoided Joe at all costs. He blew up your phone of course but you have yet to answer. Luckily he hadn’t tried coming to your apartment because he knew you well enough to know that it’d piss you off. 

You were on your way to hang out with Ja’Marr for a group movie night which he promised you that Joe would not be at. You don’t know why you even believed him; Joe’s car was parked in the front driveway and you almost reversed until you saw Ja’Marr waving his arms at you. Stepping out, you crossed your arms, waiting for him. 

“I knew you wouldn’t come if you knew he was here,” he started and you scoffed. 

“You were right.”

“I am miserable because he is y/n,” he pleaded. “I’m sorry but I will be selfish for a minute. He is being a dick at practice to everyone and isn’t throwing me good balls. He’s moody, won’t say a word to me, and won’t leave his house unless necessary. So please let him make it up to you. You two belong together.”

“He called me a whore Ja’Marr!” You exclaimed frustrated and gave you a sympathetic look. 

“I know he did, and that was terrible. I tried to fight him on your behalf,” he said, earning a small smile from you. “God I shouldn’t tell you this but he’s so in love with you it’s insane. He’s hurting and you’re hurting. Please just talk to him.”

“He’s not in love with me,” you said and he just rolled his eyes. 

“Believe what you want but get in there,” he said steering you towards the door. 

The good thing was that there were a few other people here from your friend group, so technically, you didn’t even have to talk to him. He was the first person you saw when you walked in so clearly, this was a coordinated effort between the two friends. 

Joe did look sad, and you wanted to be happy about it, but you couldn’t find it in yourself. He was dressed down in grey sweats and a black T-shirt, his hair looking like he had run his hands through it over and over. His eyes were puffy, and that made your heart clench. 

“Are we ready to start?” One of your other friends called from the living room and you started to walk towards the room but Joe gently grabbed you, pulling you closer to him and letting Ja’Marr pass. 

“Can we talk?” He mumbled quietly to you and you nodded, letting him pull you into the study. You stood with your arms crossed as you looked at him, waiting. 

“I’m sorry y/n. I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. “I was hurting so bad and I took it out on you. The one person who has always been there for me.” 

“Sorry isn’t going to cut it Joe,” you said, frustrated. “It’s not like it was just the comment; it was the week leading up to it, missing the event. I can’t be there for you when you don’t let me in.”

You had imagined how this conversation would go multiple times over the past few weeks. You expected an apology and another apology, but you did not expect Joe Burrow to start sobbing in front of you. 

He sunk against the wall and had his head in his hands while he was crying. Your shock wore off, and you knelt down in front of him, moving in between his legs. He looked up and your heart broke at his tear-stained face. 

“What is going on, Joe?” You asked softly, wiping some of his tears with your thumb. 

“I just don’t know what to do,” he whispered. “Everything is going wrong, and I don’t feel like I’m in control. I do everything I can, and it’s still not enough.” 

“Oh Joey,” you murmured, pulling his head into your shoulders. He held on to you tightly as he cried and you ran your hand through his hair gently. 

“I’m sorry,” he rasped. “I’m sorry I hurt you; I hated myself the second I said it.” 

“I forgive you Joe,” you told him, looking into his teary eyes. 

“I don’t deserve you; I’m not good enough for you,” he said. “I want to be enough for you.”

You cupped his face gently, making him look at you. Your own eyes started to water at the vulnerability he was showing.

"Joe, you’ve always been enough for me," you whispered. "You don’t have to prove anything. Not to me, not to anyone. I’m here for you, not for what you do or don’t achieve."

His brows furrowed, and he shook his head slightly, his hands moving to hold yours. "You don’t understand, y/n. I don’t just want to be your best friend—I want to be everything to you. And I’ve been so afraid of ruining our relationship that I pushed you away instead."

Your breath caught in your throat. "Joe..."

"I love you," he said, his voice breaking, but his gaze held steady. "I’ve been in love with you for so long, and I didn’t know how to tell you. But pushing you away hurt worse than anything I’ve ever felt on the field. I can’t lose you."

For a moment, the weight of his words left you speechless. You searched his face, finding nothing but raw sincerity. Your heart ached, but in the best way, as if it were piecing itself together after being fractured.

"I love you too, Joe," you admitted to him and yourself, a soft smile breaking through the tears on your face. "But you have to let me in. No more shutting me out, no matter how hard things get. We figure it out together, okay?"

His hands tightened around yours, and he nodded, relief washing over his features. "Together. I promise."

You leaned forward, gently kissing his forehead before resting your own against it. The two of you walked out of the study and into the living room, where everyone else was already engrossed in the movie. Ja’Marr looked between the two of you and at your connected hands and gave you a wide smirk. Joe moved to the big armchair and pulled you down with him, and you snuggled into his lap. His arms wrapped around you, and you finally felt content. 

[lilithofpenandbook]

Out of everything that traumatised Neville, Snape isn't one of them. If he is, that's not because Snape is abusive, it's because Neville is literally weak. That's not an insult, that's his flaw- being unnecessarily scared of everything. The other children are not afraid of Snape himself. They're more afraid of the consequences of angering Snape (house points lost, detentions, scoldings) rather than Snape as a person.

Neville's feelings are shockingly enough, not valid. Those feelings of fear, that cowardice? A flaw. Just as much as arrogance, spitefulness, being overly afraid is a flaw and in his case makes him a danger to others, as does his clumsiness and forgetfulness. Now, forgetfulness isn't something you can choose, I'd call it a weakness more than a flaw, but at the same time there are ways to manage it. But the cowardice? That's a flaw that needs to be corrected.

Neville's trauma comes from his family. His uncle is awful to him, as is his grandmother, and seeing his parents in such a state is enough to mess anyone up. He comes from a messed up family. It does not come from Snape.

People also like to say that "Oh look his boggart is Snape even though his parents were tortured!!!" but here's the thing: Neville was probably never even present.

He probably never ever even saw his parents tortured. He knows what happened, but was most likely never a witness. If he was present would he have actually lived? Of course not. So of course he's not going to have that as his worst fear. It's not going to come to mind in school. Not when he just got grilled by Snape.

Neville's been through traumatic events, that's undeniable. But Snape is not one of them. Snape isn't obliged to be nice to Neville. Snape's job when it's Neville is, by some point, just making sure Longbottom doesn't kill them all. Neville's cowardice and clumsiness aren't reasons to coddle him. If I was teaching Potions, I'd have kicked Neville out by second year- no way am I risking a whole class because one child can't follow basic instructions.

Neville's family is the real problem in Neville's story. They're supposed to look after him and care for him. If we're going to be talking about this boy's trauma, we need to discuss how he was more alarmed at the thought of his grandmother being his boggart than Snape was to the point that he didn't mention her, Lupin just mentioned her to give Neville an idea of how to sort out the boggart

And let's also talk about why Lupin decided to essentially completely humiliate a colleague that is already not respected by the children. Making his likeness look ridiculous is so petty and unprofessional. Lupin could have easily told Neville to do literally anything else that would have made the situation funny without making a mockery of Snape, but he didn't. He chose to suggest the grandmother's clothes to humiliate the real Snape- look at what happened at Christmas when Snape got that hat from his cracker, he was clearly upset by it, he clearly knew why the boys were laughing-and not only that, he prompted Neville through the entire thing. He didn't simply say "imagine Snape in your grandmother's clothes", he dragged out the entire thing to make it as ludicrous as possible (like, why the handbag? Why did he prompt Neville to also describe her handbag? Obviously to add to the ridiculousness). That's his colleague. He's leading the kids to disrespect his colleague, their teacher. When you read that scene, it's fairly obvious Snape was likely to be Neville's boggart due to him literally making a remark that embarrassed Neville seconds prior that Neville visibly reacted to (and in all honesty, it was a fair warning. Sarcastic, but fair- Neville should not be entrusted with anything dangerous and DADA involves doing things that could hurt others). If you want to talk about the boggart scene, acknowledge how Lupin had a full conversation with Neville to prompt him to imagine something to humiliate Snape with. "Oh, it's just a boggart" But it's not. Something like that is going to be spread, gossiped about, it will ruin whatever little respect the kids have for Snape. Lupin was behaving absolutely unprofessionally and honestly when I looked at it just now, it made me feel a little sick the way Lupin was talking.

And I'm not even going to discuss Trevor The Toad, I've already gone on about him multiple times before. It's probably the most misunderstood and misused scene against Snape. Like, it only takes two seconds to realise that if Snape's intention was to hurt or kill Trevor, he would have just squished Trevor when Trevor was reduced into a tadpole (was it a tadpole?). As it was, he didn't even leave Trevor as a tadpole and make Neville make the counter-potion, he administered it himself and was specifically mad that Hermione helped Neville after being told not to. Once again, Snape's not being abusive or a bully for the sake of it- he's trying to be a teacher. It's the kind of thing you hate as a child but grow up to realise that actually, the adult had a point. Even if it seemed unfair at that moment.

Anyway, people geniunely don't give a shit about Neville's trauma, and when they do, it's to use it against Snape without acknowledging that actually, it's far worse that his Boggart could have easily been his grandmother but Lupin didn't allow it (he didn't even question why he was so afraid of her). It's far worse that his uncle treated him so badly. It's far worse that the people who were supposed to raise Neville were cruel to him. And it's far worse that McGonagall, who IS supposed to care for Neville, is just as mean to him as Snape is.

The fact that people (Marauders Stans) only care about Neville's trauma to bash Snape. It's always Snape was his boggart never McGonagall risked him dying twice and humiliated him in front of everyone. Or his grandma treated him like shit and his great uncle nearly killed him several times. They literally don't care about Neville. It's Snape fans who actually care more about him (even if they don't care about him) because they don't treat him/his trauma like a tool (which is a very low bar). I feel really sorry for him. After everything he went through, his trauma is not talked about enough.

[famoussharkhairdoknight]

THE BEST FRIENDS RULE 10-JOBE BELLINGHAM

Part.1,Part.2,Part.3,Part.4,Part.5,Part.6,Part.7,Part.8,Part.9, Final Part.

Warning: +18, slight smut.

The camp was full of enthusiasm, with girls on the sidelines applauding and commenting on the boys in the field. Jobe moved nimbly, focused on the game, while Elena encouraged him from the stands. His laughter mixed with the compliments of other girls, some of whom commented unreservedly on how beautiful and charming he was.

You came with the cheerleaders, ready to do your job. Yet you could not ignore the sound of those enthusiastic voices, especially when Jobe, hot for the game, took off his shirt. Suddenly, a series of stares and sighs rose around you. Despite trying to keep an indifferent attitude, you found yourself looking at the girls who were watching him with some intensity.

Without noticing, your look became cold and piercing, almost threatening, and the girls who were commenting on Jobe’s beauty became silent, feeling suddenly uncomfortable. The only one who seemed to notice it was Lucy, your cheerleader mate, who looked at you with a funny grin.

"You were a little upset by those comments, huh?" she whispered, amused.

You looked at her, pretending not to understand. "I don’t know what you’re talking about, Lucy."

She chuckled, giving you a friendly little push. "Sure, sure. You don’t care, right? Too bad your look can kill... Poor little girls."

You tried to ignore her, but Lucy wouldn’t stop throwing amusing glances at you, as if she knew exactly what you were thinking. Your eyes were turned to the field, and against your will they rested upon Jobe. Every movement he made, every smile, every strong look he gave his comrades while commanding the team, captured you. It was frustrating, but you couldn’t take your eyes off.

Jobe caught the ball with a confidence that only a true leader in the field has. He ran forward with determination, beating the opponents one by one. The whole team was agitating, prompting him to score. With a swift movement, Jobe hit the ball and sent it straight into the net, scoring a goal that blew up the field in a scream of exultation.

But when he looked up, unintentionally, his eyes met yours. A moment that seemed to freeze all around you. No words were needed to understand. The look they exchanged had more meaning than any sentence could be uttered. It was as if he had spoken all the pain, frustration, remorse and even hope of something they could not say aloud.

However, as if reality had suddenly come to light, you quickly turned away from it, trying to hide the intensity of that connection. At the same moment, Jobe did the same, as if his body had reacted automatically to the tension he felt in the air.

Elena, who had seen the quick exchange of glances between you two, did not pay much attention to it. He couldn’t feel the depth of what was behind it, as his focus was on Jobe and his spectacular goal. He smiled proudly, cheering his best friend and applauding for the beautiful play, unaware of the silent whirl that was taking place between you and Jobe.

You, on the other hand, stood there, your heart beating faster than normal, but you tried to keep calm. You couldn’t afford to be too involved. The game had just been scored, and you were there for a reason. You couldn’t distract yourself, you couldn’t let the feelings that Jobe seemed to bring out in you every time he was around.

---

The cheerleaders approached the group of footballers, clapping and laughing, while the girls exchanged compliments and hugged the boys. The atmosphere was festive, and everyone congratulated on Jobe’s great goal, but the boy could not take his eyes off you.

When he saw you, his attention focused only on you, as if you were the only person in the world at that moment. Your cheerleading uniform, with the short skirt waving as you moved, your hair tied in a high tail, and the energy you exhaled from every gesture, was completely confusing. Every time you moved, Jobe seemed unable to take his eyes off you. Your presence was tormenting him, triggering emotions inside him that he had been trying to ignore for too long.

Just as he was trying to get closer, Elena took him by the waist and hugged him in a hug, complimenting him on the goal. Jobe, even though he returned the hug and smiled at her, could not fully concentrate on what he was saying. His mind was too much taken by the thought of you, how your smile lit up the field and the way you moved with a confidence that made him feel more vulnerable than he would have wanted to admit.

Even though he spoke to Elena, every word of her seemed empty. His eyes were all looking for you, watching each other in the crowd of cheerleaders, staring at you from afar, unable to think about anything else. He felt the need to approach, but every time he tried to step towards you, something held him back, a feeling of fear that made him stop.

It was as if every movement of his was dictated by the force of a forbidden desire, yet somehow Jobe could not help but be attracted to you. You were the only thing that occupied his thoughts, the girl who drove him crazy but he couldn’t have.

When Elena went away to talk with one of her friends, Jobe took the opportunity to get closer to you. He felt it was finally time to talk, to clarify everything that was accumulating between you two. He took courage, but just as he was about to take the first step towards you, a familiar voice made him stop.

It was Louise, the captain of the team, who approached you with a confident smile and a boyish attitude that knew how to take what she wanted. Jobe watched them from afar, hands shaking nervously as Louise began to talk to you, trying to draw your attention with jokes and smiles.

Jobe stood motionless, unable to take his eyes off the scene. Louise seemed confident, while you replied with your usual somewhat indifferent smile, but Jobe could sense that something in your eyes that told him it was not just a chance encounter. Your beauty, your charm, the way you moved, made every word of it shine. Sometimes Louise would look at you a little more intensely, but you seemed to keep the right distance, without falling into any obvious kind of play.

But for Jobe, seeing that scene made him grow angry inside he could not control. He couldn’t bear the thought of someone else, like Louise, coming up to you that way. It was not just jealousy, but something deeper, a sense of possessiveness that he did not recognize, but that was consuming him.

In the silence that followed, Jobe could feel his heart’s fast beat. Every movement of Louise near you seemed to him a direct blow, as if it was escaping you, as if someone else had the right to look at you, to speak to you, when it was he who wanted to do so. Seeing Louise smiling at you with that confident air made him want to intervene, but something held him back. The fear of ruining everything, of complicating things even more, but also the impossibility to ignore the pain that felt in seeing you and Louise talking so freely.

He could not do anything but observe, but in his heart he knew that he would not endure the situation for long.

Jobe was about to take the first step towards you two, trying to get closer to you, but just at that moment, Elena called him with enthusiasm, beckoning him to come closer. " Hey, Jobe! A friend of mine wanted to compliment you on the game," said Elena, not even noticing what was going on between you and him.

Jobe, with a slightly forced smile, approached the girl, trying to focus on her, but every now and then his eyes moved imperceptibly towards you. He noticed how your eyes were of a security that seemed almost unattainable, and the way you moved seemed hypnotic to him. When you noticed that he was looking at him, your eyes rose from the group and met his for a brief moment. He tried to look away, but the desire that was being kindled inside him was impossible to ignore.

Meanwhile, you tried to keep your facade of indifference. You pretended not to notice, not to feel that load of unexpressed emotions weighing in the air between you. However, as Jobe was trying to seem busy talking to the girl who was complimenting him, you approached them with a determined step, casting a casual glance at Jobe, but letting the tone of your voice betray a subtle sarcasm.

"You seem to be doing excellent work in the field, Jobe," you commented, your smile a little mocking. " Who knows if you’ve really trained, or if it’s just your natural talent that makes the difference." Your voice was light, but the message was clear: a mix of praise and irony, as always.

The smile you gave him, with that touch of malice, struck him right to the heart. Jobe felt his cheeks warm, and the beat of his heart accelerated. Although he tried to keep control, the truth was that every word that came out of your mouth seemed to break him more and more. That little taunt, that smile that showed all your beauty with a veil of disinterest, made him crazy.

After you exchanged that line, you turned to the girl who was talking to him, smiling again as if everything were normal. Jobe couldn’t help but think how hard it was for you to seem so distant, but at the same time, that smile made you incredibly charming, and put him in a difficult position like never before. The tension between you two seemed unstoppable, and it was clear that things were about to change.

Jobe, who had been biting his cheek until then to try not to laugh, could not hold back now. The smile that made its way on his face betrayed all his fun. If only he knew all the times you had touched him before, doing worse and more exciting.

Despite the obvious tension, Jobe felt as if something had broken, as if the dynamic between you two was changing irreversibly. The irony and distance you had always kept was slowly giving way to something more intense, and he knew it. But at that moment, as Elena tried to stop you, Jobe’s laugh and your indifference made it clear that things would not be the same.

The moment you withdrew your hand was like a sudden blow for Jobe. Although he tried not to make it known, he felt the lack of your touch on his skin. It was as if a heat he had not expected had vanished, leaving him abruptly in the cool air. His body reacted unintentionally, as if trying to maintain the contact he had just lost.

You, however, did not seem to be affected. Without even a hint of emotion, resume your usual indifferent attitude. You gave a quick, almost cold look and turned around, walking away with the confident pace that only a cheerleader can adopt. Your skirt, short and moving in sync with your steps, attracted all the eyes as you walked away. Jobe could not help following you with his eyes, especially by observing the movements of your figure. Each step seemed staged, a game that was slowly driving him crazy. The temptation to sigh was strong, but he bit his cheek to stop, trying to keep control.

Jobe stood there, motionless for a moment, staring at your figure as it moved away. His eyes, almost without wanting to, focused on your hips, the way the skirt moved with each step. And especially how much better your ass looked in that short skirt. Jobe felt his cock getting even harder and he had a crazy desire to bend you over a table and fuck you that attitude you had towards him.

The image was printed in his mind, and a breath escaped him before he could hold it. His cheek clenched gently, as if he was trying to stifle a groan that did not want to come out. But it was useless: the desire he felt for you would not be erased so easily.

Jobe was still without his shirt, and his toned body shone in the sun. His muscles moved with every breath, every little movement. Unable to resist the temptation, you approached him, letting your hand slide down his chest, sensually caressing his muscles. Your hand came into contact with her skin, and she felt how her body reacted to your touch.

Jobe almost groaned at contact, The shiver that crossed his skin did not go unnoticed, and it was as if that gesture brought him back to all the times when, when you were together, you approached him with the same charm that now seemed impossible to ignore. He shivered with excitement, his heart beating faster for the memory of the moments you had shared. His dick got hard only to think that when you fucked he scratched his chest. His hands barely squeezed, trying to keep control as he felt your hand slipping down her skin ever further. It was like going back in time, when his feelings for you were stronger than ever.

Jobe watched you as you watched him bite your lip and touch his abs while you caressed them.

Elena and her friend were still there, and Jobe for a moment completely forgot they were there. He was about to open his mouth, to say something that would reveal his mood, but Elena stepped in before him, giving you a cold look.

"Y/N," he said in a harder than usual voice, "you shouldn’t touch my best friend like that." His words were sharp, and the atmosphere suddenly became more tense.

You didn’t break down, rather, burst into a funny laugh, one of those sounds that made it clear that nothing really put you in trouble. " Oh, really?" you replied, with a sneer smile. "I didn’t know you had rules about who can touch who, Elena."

"Visto che ci sei…?" ripetesti in tono provocante, facendo finta di non capire. La tua voce era morbida, ma le parole erano punte acute. "Cosa vuoi davvero, Jobe? Sei venuto a fare che cosa? Guardarmi ancora?"

Elena, who was watching closely, immediately noticed Jobe’s gaze fixed on you. His expression changed in a moment. He had seen you many times, but today it seemed different. He couldn’t help but notice how Jobe was staring at your body, especially your butt that moved so easily. An acid smirk slipped on her lips as she watched Jobe, evidently taken by your beauty.

"Jobe," he said in a tone that betrayed some irritation, "What are you looking at?"

Jobe hurried to look away, feeling embarrassed for being caught in the act. " Nothing," he stuttered, trying to sound casual, but his reaction did not convince Elena, who looked at him with a look that felt like rebuke.

"Don’t play dumb," said Elena, crossing her arms. "You were looking at him, Jobe. Next time, try to be less perverted, okay?"

Jobe could not answer. His face was a mixture of frustration and confusion, but also of some secret gratification, which he could not even admit to himself. He knew that the situation was complicated, but he felt there was something undeniable between him and you, something he could no longer ignore. Elena didn’t understand. For her, it was just another moment when her best friend seemed to act strangely around her sister.

Jobe, in his silence, could not help but think of you.

---

Two hours passed like a flash of light, but to Jobe it seemed an eternity. He couldn’t stop thinking about you, the way you moved, the way you made him feel. So, despite being embarrassed and confused, he decided to look for you. He knew that the only place you could be was in the empty classroom, your refuge, the place where you would isolate yourself from prying eyes.

When he opened the door, he found you there. You were still dressed in your cheerleader outfit, the light hair that fell on your shoulders, the air that surrounded you like an aura of challenge and seduction. You were sitting on a table, legs slightly crossed, with the body emanating a certain tranquility, but at the same time, Jobe could not help feeling the intensity in your eyes when he looked at you. You didn’t go any further, and when your eyes met, everything else seemed to disappear. The air became electric.

Jobe paused for a moment, undecided whether to approach or not. But when you did, giving him a provocative wink while playing with the laces of his suit, his heart sped up. He knew what you were doing, but he couldn’t stop.

"Did you come to find me?" asked you, your voice soft but sharp, with that smile that made his heart beat. "Are you following me, Jobe? I didn’t think you were one of those."

Jobe puffed, an involuntary smile on his lips as he tried to keep calm. But it was useless, he was looking at you with desire, and it was impossible to hide it. Your defiance put him in even more difficulty. " I wasn’t looking for you," he replied, trying to seem unconcerned. "But since there are..."

He felt like he was being tested, but couldn’t help but look at you, your curves outlined under the cheerleader suit, the way you played with his tracksuit’s lace as if you were trying to seduce him without saying it.

"Don’t pretend to be indifferent, Jobe," you kept provoking him, as you slowly got up from the table, walking towards him with a seductive step. " I see you. I know what you think."

He could not hold back. "Stop," he muttered, trying to take a step away, but the desire betrayed him. "You are playing with me."

"You’re trying to hide it, but you can’t." Your smile widened as, without warning, you grabbed his hand by placing it on your butt and put your hand over it while with a movement you led him to tighten your ass. He closed his eyes at the impact and held a sigh while you moaned softly as you put your hands on his back looking at him provocatively.

At that moment, Jobe realized he was no longer able to keep the distance between you two. That chemistry between you was too strong, and even though he tried to stay cool, his body spoke for him.

You rubbed your cock and groaned while feeling it already hard and laughed as he tried to control himself. "Already hard for me?" you scoffed as he clenched his jaw and you started giving him sweet kisses on the jaw while he moaned.

"y/n" whispered as you kept kissing his jaw and started rubbing yourself on his cock again while he squeezed your butt more to guide your movements on his dick,

"You’re driving me crazy," he said, moaning, and you smiled. "Those words you said to my sister hurt me" you said as you kept rubbing your hands on her dick while he moaned.

"sorry y/n, I didn’t mean it really, I panicked" she said trying to take some self-control and seriously wanting to clear this situation with you but it was hard feeling how her pussy rubbed on his dick.

"hm hm hm" you said unconvinced while you kept rubbing on his cock while kissing his neck, nibbling him making him moan while you cum while your pussy held the void while you kept rubbing on his dick.

"y/n I mean it, I didn’t mean to hurt you, I feel like an idiot. Let me make it up to you", whispered Jobe, unable to speak because he was reaching orgasm.

The tension between you did not dissolve, but there was something different now. His sincere words had touched you. You knew that Jobe was not used to being vulnerable, yet he did. But you couldn’t help but keep playing, because this was your way of keeping control. Even though one part of you knew that you were pushing him beyond his limits, the other part enjoyed too much to see his reaction.

Jobe squeezed your butt as he groaned as he felt the orgasm coming and you chewed his neck hard making him grunting and leaving a noticeable mark.

"Ok, Jobe," you said finally, in a softer tone, but your eyes still filled with that provocative spark. " You know it won’t be so easy. You have to do more to show me that you really care."

He looked at you, as he was recovering from orgasm, but in his eyes he had a shadow of hope in his eyes. " I will," he replied promptly, as if he was ready to do anything to prove to you that he was serious.

You nodded and detached yourself from him. Jobe suddenly without your body pressed to his felt cold and took a step towards you, but you detached yourself again, leaving him staring at you as you walked away for a few steps.

With a mischievous smile, you adjusted your cheerleader skirt and threw him a provocative look, the one you always knew how to do to make him crazy. " It’s not enough to say the words, Jobe," you added, throwing a sarcastic joke at him. " You have to prove that you are up to it and not like a scared little boy"

His breath became more irregular. He was looking at you, his eyes full of desire but also a little bit of frustration, aware that you were still playing with him. His answer came with difficulty. "I’m not scared, Y/N... I’m just... a little out of shape with you."

You stopped, looking at him intensely for a moment, and a sweeter but still mischievous smile appeared on your face. " Then make it a habit," you replied, approaching him slowly but never touching him as if you were forcing him to decide what to do. " And see if you can convince me."

Jobe was in a fight with himself. On the one hand, he wanted to continue playing that game you had started, but on the other hand, he felt it was becoming something more serious, something he could no longer ignore. His mind was in turmoil, but his heart told him that this time he had to do something different.

"Y/N..." he started, but his voice barely trembled. "You... don’t understand how much I’m trying to... be different with you."

His body came closer, but you stopped him with a gesture, putting a hand on his shoulder. You couldn’t help but provoke him, but also appreciate the way he was trying to make himself noticed. "I understand that, Jobe. But it’s not enough to talk. You have to do more."

You looked at him intensely, feeling the electricity in the air, the desire that he could no longer hide. It was like he was on the edge of the precipice, ready to jump, but you knew you still had to decide what to do next.

"I like you, Jobe," whispers, but your voice was a little mischievous. "But you’ll have to work on it again." And with a last smile, you turned to leave, leaving him behind to reflect on how much you were complicating his life.

[scoobydoodean]

is there anything you're critical of Dean for? not meant as a gotcha, i just haven't been reading your blog for long.

i just struggle getting out of the Doylist perspective and holding characters accountable. i'm annoyingly cognizant of the external factors like them not wanting to pay Misha or having to cater to a sizeable portion of their audience that preferred the easier digestible, more accessible "two bros in MotW episodes" that didn't serve the overarching storyline or relationships or if they did, didn't take up that much air time or did it superficially (flashback to Dean being called overdramatic in 6x20 because they just didn't. get. it.).

I think it's clear that Dean and Cas’s relationship issues involving communication are an active choice made by the writers that don't just exist because Misha isn’t in all the episodes. If the writers didn’t want us to pay attention to Cas’s absences, they would establish that Cas consistently keeps in communication offscreen over the phone and that things between Dean and Cas are good when they see each other in person. Instead, they choose to do the exact opposite. They show Cas being avoidant and hiding in episodes he's not in and in episodes he's in too. They emphasize that Cas's absences are more than physical—he creates emotional distance—he hides and lies and keeps secrets when he feels ashamed or has become convinced that he needs to handle things on his own. This is a very core character hangup for Cas. It also doesn't make him a bad person. It makes him (for lack of a better word) human. His flaws are understandable and tragic and rooted in trauma, and one of the worst parts about the end of Supernatural is that Cas never gets to fully work through these feelings and have his eyes opened to exactly how deeply he is loved and that his worth is more than what he can do for others.

To be quite honest though, I think people need to become more comfortable with hearing that Cas isn't perfect without jumping to conclude that he is being condemned for being imperfect. No one is perfect—especially not our Supernatural blorbos. That includes Dean who is also imperfect. I'm not sure exactly what post of mine prompted this ask, but I don't actually think I've been that critical of Cas or condemned him for anything. I've only shined a light on some of his flaws—particularly in episodes where fandom has tended to ignore them and condemn Dean as The One And Only Bad Friend.

I guess I just wonder why it has always been acceptable to highlight Dean's flaws (even ones that don't actually exist) without ever mentioning a single thing another character did "wrong" to contribute to a conflict, but when I highlighting anything Cas ever did wrong in a conflict with Dean without a healthy helping of deancrit, people feel I'm not being "fair" enough. It's very clear that people want me to protect Cas more—even against the lightest criticisms— but I'm not sure why he's considered more deserving of that than Dean. I'm also not sure why a doylist perspective would invalidate Dean's experience as a fellow character within the story affected by Cas's absences and not an omniscient viewer who's thinking about how many episodes the writers can afford to put Misha Collins in (and again—I do not think a doylist perspective explains Cas's behavior—the behavior is intentionally written into his character for seasons upon seasons).

I'm not going to fight it if people choose to call me "cas critical" or "sam critical" because that's their prerogative. To be clear though, I don't prefer to engage with stories as competitions where we count up who did the most wrong things and assign that person as The Bad Character Among The Good Characters. I can understand if it looks that way from an outsider's perspective, but I'm actually reacting to fandom largely deciding to engage with Supernatural as if it should be consumed as a story about The Bad Character Among The Good Characters and deciding that The Bad Character Among The Good Characters is Dean. I'm far less critical of Sam or Cas than I'll ever be of fandom’s need to make everything about keeping score of who did the most wrong stuff. It can be fun to shitpost about it to piss of crits, but the actual point of the story isn't to figure out which one did the most bad things and "hold them accountable".

[rhinocio]

That long reply post you made to the post about commenting on art you love really explained a lot and I was wondering if you had any ideas of maybe a line or two I could put after my fics to tell people that I want them to be weird on main and encourage them to keysmash in my comments. You’re right, some of the best comments I’ve ever gotten were keysmashes, screams, and curse words.

Thank you for writing all of that.

Heck yeah, dude! I get the sense that folks who are used to transactional internet culture are extremely nervous about putting themselves out there, even when prompted, so the key to encouraging interaction is to encourage it repeatedly, and everywhere you can.

Personally, I headline all my AO3 fics with, "Comments, critiques, and keysmashes are always welcome and encouraged!" If you're in a smaller fandom, writing about a more commonly-beloathed ship/concept, or just get the sense your readerbase might be especially young or shy (or both), then adding reassurances like, "I'm a super chill person, I love when people go feral in the comments, long strings of AAAAAAAA are fantastic, I promise I'll be thanking you if you point out spelling mistakes, etc" will go a long way.

(Honestly, the text you've sent me is already great! "I love when my readers are weird on main; some of my best fic comments ever have been keysmashes and screaming. Please come at me with your most unhinged commentary! And chill commentary too lol. Both are good."

Tangential thought: you could probably do like the social media scrubs do and give your readers a prompt. "If you made it to the end of the chapter without crying drop a comfort food emoji in the comments for all the rest of the readers who did!🍪" Feels a little less personal to me, but also we gotta adapt-overcome-innovate, and this kind of familiar language / scripting might make it easier for younger readers to involve themselves.)

Also! Reply to comments! When I first started writing on AO3 I was leery of messing with the stats on my fic listings, but frankly, making your comment section a fun place to be is so much more important than the numbers. If you make an effort to reply even to the comments that are just single emoji, you earn reader trust. Folks can get a sense of your personality and vibe by reading through the comment section, and start to believe you want them there, when even their "<3" gets a "Hey [name], good to see you again! Thanks for showing your love!"

tldr capitalism is a fuck and made the internet scary so you gotta treat your fandom brethren like the skittish creechurs they've been bullied into being

[saturdaylemon]

Take all the time you need! And please ping me when you expand on those thoughts - if you don't mind.

Okay, back to designing.

I'm moderately opposed to making the Shades talk for previously mentioned reasons, but I could see giving "X speaks of Y" style summaries in the action popup. They're not really the people who died (or almost died), more like impression fossils. The lights are on, but nobody's home. We think.

The Ku Flame

Your idea for Hikari are a worthy inclusion, the only question is how. And the answer to that depends on how the fight works. If I were programming a game I'd be more inclined to do a mostly-standard boss fight with some extra narrative. If I were writing a fic, however, the 2v2 with Path Actions, Talents, and Latents all getting involved would be easier to pull off in that format. The quote would be something like "Ageha, you are relieved of duty!" In a more standard boss fight it fits better as "entering second phase" or maybe post-boss dialogue. In the 2v2 narrative puzzle it can be a Full Boost quote. It really only makes sense to say once; and maybe Ageha's Shade could seem to respond to it? You probably get prompted to activate Light's Radiance for the final blow.

Ageha's Shade shouldn't get minions. He was a general in life, but like you said, he's the last vestiges of the old Ku. He doesn't have an army anymore. On a side note I want this guy to yell "FIX BAYONETS" so bad but guns aren't available yet. Need to pick out a Boost message, a Boost Attack, regular moveset because it can't be all support... so everything. Definitely gets Rally Troops or a similar move by the same name though.

Tanzy was an aspiring playwright, but it seems she never published. In Giselle's troupe she served as director, so it could be fun (more fun in a standard boss fight where there are more characters) to let her Shade mess around with turn order. Like, oh, you were setting Hikari up to counter Ageha's shields off? Haha no the adds just got moved to the top of the round and used up the Vengeful Blade stacks, Ageha's Shade is shouting orders, and Tanzy's Shade is about to hand you your ass. Speaking of adds, the most obvious basis is the other troupe members... but Tanzy pretty conclusively left them behind. Another possibility is to reference her unpublished scripts with unfinished marionettes, or if we want to have some fun, give Tanzy's Shade the same minions as Arcanette. Tanzy begins praying.... -> BREAK HER SHADE NOW! If this is a 2v2, Ruinous Kick makes sense as the Boost Attack because that's half your dudes. In a more standard fight, the Boost Attack should be something a bit more powerful. Regular moveset has the summon, the turn rearrange, probably a buff or two, and maybe a physical attack that inflicts something.

Agnea's Boost quote is mostly babbled interrogatives.

The Crackridge Flame

Ori's Shade is weak to Polearm/Dagger/Bow/Fire. Guess why. (some kind of Light element attack because come on it's in her name) Stop the Presses! / So Tired: inflicts Speed Extremely Down Dear Diary: equivalent to the Merchant job's Rest. Name does not change after Ori's Shade is broken for the first time. Ori can't do this anymore. -> this is gonna hurt

The Final Night sounds like it should be the Boost Attack for Lucian's Shade, but it would also be really funny to have it be the weakest attack. We'd need to name Lucian's other works to name the Shade's attacks... think we could crib Nearer the Flame from the Stormlight Archive? Lucian retrieves a notebook.... -> this is gonna hurt slightly less

Temenos starts going through all of Lucian's works, trying to line them up with the Shade's attacks, and Osvald is experiencing the internal conflict between "not my SpIn, not my problem" and the knowledge that it is Very Much His Problem. Castti is probably in the background like "oh shit I have seen that girl before."

Osvald will offer to explode the person responsible even if you hit Crackridge after Flamechurch. There is no expiration date on Grandpa Blast.

The Toto'haha Flame

Hm, fair point. I figured Castti's usual Slightly Unhinged Boost quotes fit the emotional charge well enough, but this wouldn't be that long after Trousseau. The metaphorical wound is still raw. She could have a Boost quote demanding that the Apothecary's Shade get out of her way. It can't understand her, but she doesn't know that. We could give the apothecary a name, but it also works to leave him completely unknown. Just another cooling body.

Keep the Grotesque Monster's weaknesses (Axe/Bow/Ice/Light), mostly physical moveset since the Apothecary's Shade is handing out debuffs. Give it the Grotesque Monster's Piercing Cry, because if I heard someone like Petrichor start screaming out of nowhere I would be pretty freaked out. Petrichor gives off an ominous aura! -> Apply axe to face, repeat. Hunt the Weak: single target physical, damage increases with number of debuffs and afflictions on target. This is kind of a dark mirror of Drastic Measures, but it works.

Someone's Shade is passing out every negative effect in the game. Bow weakness works, maybe also Dagger and something else for game balance I dunno.

Ochette's Full Boost quote for this fight is "I can't forgive you!"

At some point Temenos makes the connection between some of Petrichor's comments and Roi's disappearance, promptly flips out.

The Flamechurch Flame

The design philosophy here is basically OKAY EVERYONE, PUT ON YOUR ARCANETTE HATS, TODAY WE ARE BEING MEAN TO TEMENOS! And part of that is making him watch two of the most important people in his life aid and protect their killer. So that's 3 and 4. 3 has the extra gutpunch of making him wait for the other shoe to drop.

Crick's Shade can keep his playable moveset. Weak to Sword/Staff/Dark. You know why. Crick is watching Temenos.... -> For a moment, a player could mistake this for a "skip a turn" message, maybe a hint that the people who left the Shades behind are still in there (this is intended to be perceived in-universe)... NOPE THAT'S THE BOOST MESSAGE. Also a callback to the Felvarg. Should we make Crick's Shade have a Boost Attack that sacrifices itself, or is that too limiting in Mean To Temenos potential?

Pontiff Jörg's Shade gets the Standard Cleric Weaknesses of Sword/Dagger/Axe/Dark. It has reason to use the Cleric moveset, but I was thinking we could nab something else from the Claude fight and give it Reflective Veil from the OT1 Cleric. Also, Lock Away. The move that prevents the target from recieving aid or items from any other party member. (And a slight nod to Whatever Was Up With Alpates.) Starts battle by using it on Temenos.

(Balance-wise, Temenos can break Crick with his base kit but not the Pontiff partially because this works with the story - Temenos hitting Crick's worldview with a metaphorical sledgehammer vs That's Your Dad - and partially because between Temenos' Latent and Throné turning into a protective blender it's probably fine.)

Throné uses her "Sorry, but I won't hold back!" Max Boosting quote for this fight, but even using the same voice clip it's meant to come off in a slightly different light. (You ever think about how her HP Thief bark is a sarcastic "You're too kind." and her "healed by Temenos" bark is a much more genuine "You're too kind, Temenos"? Because I have.) Temenos tries to talk himself out of a breakdown when Max Boosting. He fails. Possibly devolving from "keep it together, that isn't really him" early in the fight to beaten-dog whimpering in the second phase.

2v2 narrative puzzle ramble One reason I'm more inclined to use this for a fic is that the Journey For The Dawn locks you out of your daytime Path Actions. Sun's not rising. In writing, there's less trouble with carving out an exception in the game mechanics. The idea I had was that the Shade battles would yank the corresponding travelers into a sort of dream space where it isn't day exclusive or night. Kind of like a cross between Temenos' "The truth lies in the flame" Detective Vision thing and whatever was going on while Hikari duked it out with his shadow. (Said shadow: "Not me this time. I'm not touching that with a ten-foot pole.") From the outside, the two fighting appear to be asleep standing up, twitching and mumbling as if caught in a particularly vivid dream. Temenos "Commitment to the bit" Mistral sees two people snap out of that trance for the first time and immediately goes "Welcome back. ^_^" Throné may or may not be winding up to smack him.

This also works with having both the Arcanette fight and the Shade fight at Flamechurch. Arcanette certainly looks like she could cast Spell of Really Bad Trip. Basically Throné and Temenos are in the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Boss Fight while everyone else is trying very hard to kill Arcanette with hammers.

Back to Path Actions, I still don't know how all of those would work. Going down the list

Agnea: Entreat to get "Tanzy" to show you her journal works, Allure doesn't. Both these people have chosen their paths. Hikari: Challenge is a little redundant but potentially serviceable, Bribe less so.

Partitio: Purchase and Hire could both work for trying to coax "Ori" back to the land of the living. Purchasing a paper moreso. Osvald: Trying to get at Lucian's notes fits Scrutinize or Mug, although Mug is again redundant. Let him see that!

Ochette: Provoke is already happening, especially with Petrichor's Shade dropping everything to focus Ochette down if she summons one of the Creatures of Legend. Befriend is... not happening. Petrichor can starve. (Party pretty sure this is the first time they're heard Ochette curse.) Castti: Inquiring to get the unknown apothecary's name so the party can effectively lay him to rest is kind of sweet. In that vein, Soothe has already been done with Malaya and also believe her she's trying!

Temenos: Guide has also been done already, and Coerce is not only kind of already happening but isn't going to work on Shades. Sorry, Temenos, no chances to say goodbye for you. Throné: Stealing in combat is already part of the Thief kit (also pickpocketing Temenos' family in front of him is Not Cool Dude). Ambush is OP in anything resembling an actual fight, so that's another no.

So we're 4/16, 5.5/16 with partial credit included. Unless you have better ideas. Still wish to subscribe to your newsletter.

Latent Powers, Talents, and EX Skills though...

All Together Now... probably not. Dance Session maybe. Song of Hope a more positive maybe Learned Skills would be great if this were Jin Mei's Shade. See Light's Radiance prompt above.

Hilarious though Negotiate Schedule may be, nothing of Partitio's really works here. Teach... maybe?

Indomitable Beast into Beastly Fangs looks fun. Or Indomitable Beast into Provoke Beasts. Get her ass, fellas! Concoct has potential for showing the Apothecary's Shade how it's done... except it's mindless.

Moonlight Judgement: hehehe. Could have it not proc at the start of battle, wait until Temenos pulls himself together enough to effectively fight the Shades. This works better in the Arcanette + Shades version of the fight. Prayer for Plenty and Heavenly Shine both have story potential. Blessing of Darkness: "Consider the following: mine's better." Veil of Darkness is also good here.

Took "standard class weaknesses" from the Dolcinea fight with Love's Marionette, for the record.

Things about Octopath Traveler 2 that I think about WAY too much 2/????

Under the cut for late game spoilers, loose and speculative nonsense

So the four sacred flames and their connections with the gods connected to each one.

Brand and Sealticge to the Ku Flame

Alephan and Bifelgan to the Crackridge Flame

Dohter and Draefendi to the Toto'haha Flame

And Aelfric and Aeber to the Flameschurch Flame

Going to go ahead and put it out there, that my head canon is that the Moonshade order successfully completed the sacrifices line out in the Book of Night in this manner: Pontiff Jorg (Cleric, Temenos chapter 1), unnamed apothecary in Canalbrine (Temenos Chapter 2), scholar in Canalbrine (who's name I don't remember, also from Temenos Chapter 2) Tanzy (dancer/Sealticge aligned), Petrichor (Hunter), Ageha (Warrior), Ori (merchant), and Crick (Thief, as mentioned in some dialogue in Stormhail about his background).

I feel like, in a lot of ways, these flames would have been great spots for boss fights. I feel like, for a game like Octopath Traveler 2, just getting to relight the flames with ease was a bit too easy. There's a couple of different routes I personally would have taken with them.

Option 1 (least favorite) - the party fights a shadow creature of some type (excluding in Flameschurch because there is already a boss fight there). Alternatively, remix the chosen travelers' final chapter boss fight.

Option 2 - the party fights the shadows of the sacrifices associated with that flames gods (so Ku would be Ageha and Tanzy, Crackridge would be Ori and the scholar from Temenos Chapter 2, Toto'haha would be Petrichor and that unnamed apothecary from Temenos's Chapter 2, and Flameschurch (after Arcanette), would be Crick and the Pontiff (not a fun fight for Temenos especially)). Standard boss fights would be cool, but you could go a step further and have it a two on two fight with the chosen travelers against those shadows where path actions and skills came into play in defeating the shadows. Also makes the relighting of the flames a bit more personal. You've got potential either way with this option for some really cool character exploration and thematic resolution. This one is probably my personal favorite.

Option 3 - the party (or just the chosen travelers for that flame) fight the gods themselves (as a test). There's a few ways to do this too: 1. fight images of the gods. 2. the statues of the gods by the flames come to life and you fight those, not dissimilar to Osvald's chapter 4 fight with the Golem. 3. You fight a being of combined powers of the two gods, a strange and otherworldly combination of Alephan and Bifelgan for example, staff and scales in hand, plying magic and calling allies, making it rain in leaves as easily as flashes of magic lightning, or Brand and Sealticge (which I think would look something akin to Hinoekagura). This is also a personal favorite just to see how when faced with the gods, our travelers might act, when within the world itself the gods are mostly pretty hands off. The situation with Vide is an urgent one, and I think the gods would be willing to test their chosen in the final hour to make sure that they are truly ready.

I just think it would have been neat

[bloggerspam]

Chapter 1: Beginning of an End

For @sheabeeprime and @uniasus for this year's @phicphight !

===

The thing about Fenton is that he’s not…..subtle. 

Star thinks about this as she watches him struggle with his locker. Kwan’s just about to offer to help—she can see it in her peripherals—before Fenton groans, looks left and right (completely missing them loitering across the hall directly behind him) and sticks his hand into the locker. 

He’s fiddling around with the lock, trying to unlock it, instead of doing the completely reasonable thing and just. Grabbing the thing he wanted to grab. Why bother with the lock at all if he’s just gonna stick his hand in anyway?

She and Kwan share a look at that. Kwan scratches the back of his head, looking around to see if anybody else could tell him what to do, before settling on her pleadingly. 

She sighs, shaking her head and closing her eyes against the headache that she feels coming on. It’s Senior Year. You’d think after 3 years, Fenton would get better at hiding, not worse. 

But then again…it did take the majority of Casper High a year to even realize something was wrong with the boy.

She thinks about that, before correcting herself. There’s nothing wrong with him. He’s just….not all right either. She shakes her head, walking off to the nearest classroom door. It’s early in the morning so the halls are still relatively empty. Star and Kwan are only here because of morning practice. 

She wonders, idly, why Fenton is so early. He’s usually late, but then again the ghosts have been getting better about leaving him alone these days. Fenton’s lost those wretched eye-bags he kept carrying around like Paulina and her prada bags. 

She opens the door softly, placing Kwan in front of her and placing her hand on his broad back, as if pushing him out. She slams the door behind her, pushing Kwan who blessedly goes with it. 

“Star! What’s the rush?” Fenton jumps, yanking his hand out and inadvertently tripping the locker open. 

“We’re gonna be late to practice.” She says, primly. 

“Alright alright, oh, hey Fentino.” Kwan chuckles, as they pass by Danny. 

He flinches, picking up the books that spilled out. “Hey, Kwan. Star.” 

He starts pulling at his sleeves, always long sleeved nowadays, but no sleeve is long enough to cover the scars that litter his wrists and fists. She gives him a sweet smile, staunchly ignoring the way his answering nervous smile has too many teeth. 

“Morning Danny. See you later.” She stops pushing at Kwan to pull up beside him. He takes her hand, squeezing it gently as they make their way down the hall. Just before they turn the corner she sees Danny stare at his hand in fear. He flexes it, and she notices that it has claws, before they disappear and he breathes out a shakey sigh.

“It’s getting worse, isn’t it?” Kwan says softly. She looks up at him, and his sad far away stare. 

She doesn’t want to answer–doesn’t want to face the truth of it. But this is Kwan.

“Yes.” Of all the A-listers, she’s the only one that seems to be on neutral terms with Danny, and the only one who see exactly how many times it’s been a close call. 

His hand squeezes hers, and the rest of the walk to practice is deathly silent. Because what can you say to that? Nothing. 

She squeezes back. 

[stars-obsession-pit]

Danny Phantom finds John Constantine’s trenchcoat floating around in the Ghost Zone, having accumulated enough magical effects to form its own ghostly entity upon its “death” (it being destroyed somehow).

Thus, Danny decides to help the coat make its way back to reunite with its human. He figures it shouldn’t take too long, and he does like helping people. Plus, the whole situation will make a hilarious story to tell his friends later.

[ryu-slayer]

It would be nice to be a little more involved in the prompt making process.

I’m not sorry for saying this but the prompts for zutara week are mid and having the event in a time people are busy was a bad call.

This wouldn’t be an issue if the Zk fandom was allowed to submit prompts they want and the date to have the Zk week event.

one or a couple of people should not be the only one’s deciding what prompts will be, that should be up to the community as whole.

[shy-raccoon]

The damsel in distress slowly starts getting more and more unstable from the unaddressed trauma of being frequently kidnapped. One day they completely snap and the villains start being found mysteriously murdered with increasing brutality.

[cuttlefishink]

Serireiweek Day 3: Flowers / Music

💐Aster — love and patience💐

Something something metaphor for personal growth and being able to bloom into your best self regardless of how much time it takes to get there :)

I also saw something about the perfume from burning the leaves of the aster flower being able to drive away evil spirits so 👀

[hypewinter]

Danny messes up big time on a mission to the past for Clockwork. How does he mess up you may ask? Well he ends up getting ceremonially buried as a death god in ancient Egypt. Yes, he is embarrassed about the whole scenario thank you for asking.

To make matters worse, they doused him in blood blossom oils. Not enough to kill him, but enough to weaken him big time and put him in a deep sleep. Danny spends the next couple of thousands of years sleeping the blood blossom oil off. He wakes up just in time for his tomb to be opened by a grumpy guy in a trench coat, a weird magician lady, and a ghost dressed in red spandex. Nope, he was not dealing with that. He rolled over and went back to sleep.

The JLD had been running around chasing after green sticky notes for weeks. They finally found this hidden ancient tomb with a lot of inscriptions pertaining to the dead. When they finally enter the inner most chamber, they find a young boy resting on top of an altar. He's definitely not dead because if he was, he would have long since decomposed. However at the same time, he's not breathing.

In the middle of their discussion on how to proceed, a familiar green sticky note floats down from nowhere. It reads "He'll be a wonderful addition." What? Constantine instantly pulls out a sigil and teleports away muttering something about needing a drink, Deadman goes to investigate the kid, and Zatana just sighs. This was about to be a long day.

[help-i-need-a-cool-username]

Justice League meet the Batfam au fic BUT the secret only gets out because Batman had a choice between staying quiet or acting on a truly golden opportunity to embarrass his son and like any father he chose embarrassment

[deepwaterwritingprompts]

Deep Water Prompt #3380

Our wars have sunk so many gold laden ships in the sea, that gold has become prized currency for the creatures down there. An entirely new breed of pirate arises for us to contend with.