#they were like what do you call people then?? and i explained we use the one syllable 'o' for any gender

[revelboo]

Merry Christmas!Can we get something for Blaster?

Why not. I do like his Batman antenna. Just a note- I imagine the holomatter avatars look perfectly human. So perfect that they unconsciously freak real humans out. You look at them and your brain says, yep, that’s a human, while your subconscious is all animal instinct screaming that it’s not

Shoot Me In The Smile

Blaster x Reader

• Servos drumming on his console in the uncomfortable aftermath of Megstron’s broadcast, Blaster leans back and glances at Optimus. Listening to Ironhide’s belligerent disbelief that any Cybertronian would frag a human, his optics keep catching on the look their leader’s face. Knows that there’s more than a a few humans in the Ark. He’s seen them being carried about by their caretakers like exotic pets. But now he’s wondering about it. About Jazz sneaking out constantly and returning scenting like human. Of Optimus and Prowl both scenting much more strongly of the little organics than the other caretakers. And the almost pained look on Optimus’s face as Ironhide rants. They all have their secrets, he guesses. And he’s going to be late if he doesn’t go now.

• Putting your car in park, you press your forehead against the steering wheel. Count to ten to get yourself together, shut off the engine, and get out with a smile firmly in place. Pulling the awkward case out of the passenger side, you sling the strap over your shoulder and head inside. Spotting the rest of the band setting up, you throw up a hand in greeting and hear your drummer whoop at you. Making your way backstage, you start changing your clothes. Shedding yourself in favor of leather and glitter. Lining your eyes and painting your face until a stranger stares back at you. Someone who’s not timid, not terrified of crowds and overwhelmed by the noise and heat of the spotlights. The version of you that people actually like and you despise. “You should wear the wig tonight. They love it.” Turning, you smile weakly at your lead bassist, but oblige him. And it really is a stranger staring back now. All of you erased and gone.

• “Again?” Pausing at the door of his habsuite, he glances at Eject as the cassette frowns up at him in obvious disapproval. Because he has no idea how to explain the obsession. He’d found you on a local station, surfing the airwaves out of boredom. And realizing you were a local, that the bar you played out of was so close? He hadn’t been able to resist. Using his holomatter avatar to slip inside just to hear you play. Something about the dissonance in your music had called to him, wedging in his spark and his processor. Music almost frantic, pure rock and roll, but your vocals, ranging from sweet to haunting, are what had snagged him. “I won’t be out late,” he says as Eject vents and exchanges a look with Rewind, worrying about him.

• Lingering just off stage as your heart races, you study the see of faces milling about. And realize you’re looking for your guy. The one whose expression never changes, who just stares at you the whole time you sing making an uncomfortable amount of eye contact. You almost swear he doesn’t blink. That intense focus of his is unnerving. Fascinating and a little frightening. You can’t tell if he has a crush on you or if he’s deciding where to hide your body. As the lights dim, you blow out a shaky breath and move onto the stage with your band mates. Hand lifting to wave as you smile even though you’re shaking and can’t hardly breathe. This should get easier, right? Except it never does.

• Hiding in the woods outside the bar, he transforms into his alt mode so if he’s discovered while his attention is divided, all a human will see is a boombox, feeling the pull as he mass shifts down past what would be possible for a normal Cybertronian. Draining his reserves every time. Shivering slightly, he focuses on the avatar and it glitches into existence. There’s an errant thought as he walks to the bar. What do you think of his avatar? Do you like it? Generating an ID to show the human at the door, he makes his way inside, focusing to stay solid as he works his way to the front of the crowd. It wouldn’t do for someone to accidentally pass an arm through him and start screaming. And then there you are, guitar in hand, eyes closed as the lights dim and the spotlights bathe the stage in ruddy light. Hands shifting on the strings, your eyes open and unerringly find him as the music swells and you sing just for him. The crowd gone until it’s only you two.

They’re not patient at all

[lokischocolatefountain]

An Unexpected Present

Summary: Hope and reassurance comes from an unexpected source when Joel think there might be none.

Word count: 1.7k

A/N: Merry Christmas, pedroblr (is that a thing?) This is my little Christmas present to everyone and I hope (ba dum tss) it gives a bit of hope in terrible times in a different world. This is my present specifically to @docharleythegeekqueen as part of @pedrostories's Secret Santa event. Thank you so much for organizing this and I hope I have delivered as Santa.

People never turned up at your door at the crack of dawn. Thank goodness. It was mostly because you didn’t really have a door for the past two decades for anyone to show up at. Now you had one and apparently people—no, men— took that as an invitation to show up. Okay, it was one man. That was already one too many. 

“What the fuck?” You asked, looking at the guy holding the most god awful bouquet of dried flowers you’d ever seen. Did they do Valentine’s in Jackson? And if so, did they do it in fucking December? 

“You’re the chemistry teacher?” 

Don’t fucking say some corny line about having chemistry with me, you thought, the old pick up line getting on your nerves before it could even be uttered. 

“I am. And I won’t make you meth if that’s what you’re here to ask.” 

He laughed softly, his cheeks turning pink from the winter air. “I wasn’t. But now I’m thinking about it. No, I’m uh… Ellie told me you knew how to make paint?” 

You realized then that he was your student Ellie’s dad. Maria’s brother in law who used to be a contractor in the before times. His name had come up a few times when Maria’s husband told you about how they were fixing up the old houses in the town. 

“Yeah…?” 

“I was wonderin’ if you could make some for me. We can trade for it.” 

“Oh. Uh, I’m sorry… I don’t make that kind of paint.” 

“I didn’t even tell ya what kinda paint I’m lookin’ for.” 

“For walls?” 

“Wow. Why, cause I look like this,” he said, gesturing to himself, “I can’t be looking for watercolor to paint the next Mona Lisa?” 

“The Mona Lisa was painted with oil paints.” 

“It’ll be the watercolor Mona Lisa then. These flowers good enough to make some paint?” He asked, holding out the dried flowers and leaves. 

“Depends on the colors you want for this post apocalyptic Mona Lisa.” 

“Red, green, black and white.” 

“Doesn’t sound like the Mona Lisa to me. Sounds like Christmas.” 

“They told me you were smart, but not that you were a genius,” he mocked, making you roll your eyes. You would’ve closed the door on him and avoided him forever. It was a foolish way to spend the little resources you had on something like paint for Christmas decorations. Linseed oil for protecting wooden surfaces, alum for water clarification, and washing soda for…well, washing. So you told him as much. His face fell when you explained you won’t waste necessary resources for something as superfluous as paint. But he accepted, wished you a good day and left your doorsteps with his dried flowers. 

You thought that would be the end of it. But you didn’t know a very crucial piece of information then. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked, sounding more aggressive than you’d intended to be. 

“Didn’t think it was relevant since ya said making paint is a waste of your time,” he said, sounding a little smug.

“That was before your brother said you had coffee! Why didn’t you tell me you had coffee?” 

“You didn’t say what you’d trade for.” 

“I’ll trade for coffee.” 

Coffee it was. The next morning, he showed up at your door with a thermos full of coffee. Guilty about how you’d treated him the previous day, you invited him inside. What started as politeness became a routine. 

“Had no idea it’d turn blue.” 

“It’s because red cabbages have a chemical called anthocyanin. It’s a natural ph indicator. So when you add it to a neutral substance like water, it turns blue.” 

He nodded, his annoyance at you beginning to change seeing the excitement on your face. It was easy to forget he was also resistant to normalcy when he first arrived at Jackson. Scarcity was the biggest threat to your life outside the infected and it wasn’t easy to set aside old practices you’d built to survive. But that didn’t stop him from being annoyed at you when you told him that paint for Christmas decorations was a waste of your time. 

“Did you teach before, too?” He asked. 

“No. I uh…I worked in the pharmaceutical industry. Made medicines.” 

“Damn,” he said, his mind immediately going to Ellie. If she knew what you did for a living before… There was a real risk too, with you being her teacher and all. A bigger problem was you finding out somehow about Ellie’s immunity and deciding to do something about it. He could handle you of course. He’d handled fireflies with all their weapons. But it wouldn’t be easy to get away with in Jackson. 

“Yeah. And before you ask, no I can’t find a cure.” 

“Why did you think I’d ask that?” He squinted, his worries still not resolved. 

“Everyone does.” 

“Huh.” 

The rest of the walk to the school passed in silence as he mulled over your words. You didn’t believe there was a cure so you wouldn’t look in Jackson for one. That should be enough to calm him. But you didn’t know someone in town was immune. He would have to keep an eye on you. 

____

While the mornings were spend drinking coffee with each other, the evenings were for making paint. He’d gathered everything you needed. Even sat with you and helped you grind the ingredients with a pestle and mortar. You liked to spend your time alone after hours of dealing with loud, curious children. 

You didn’t think you would be alright with Joel intruding on that. But he was good company. He stayed silent apart from asking doubts about the process. The only sound was that of the both of you grinding the pigment source into a fine power set with cyclical movements of the pestles in the mortars. 

“You’re a big fan of Christmas?” You asked one evening. 

“I wouldn’t say so, no.” 

“So, why are you parting with your beloved coffee just for red and green paints?” 

He laughed softly as he tied a filter to the top of a bottle. “It’s for Ellie,” he said, his hand rubbing the broken watch on his wrist. “She never had a normal Christmas so…since we came here to Jackson, I try to do what the town needs for a nice Christmas.” 

“That’s nice,” you said, feeling yourself warming up to him. “How many Christmases have you had here?” You asked, not feeling it appropriate to ask when they arrived. Too personal and invasive perhaps. 

“This is the second one.” 

“Mmm. She deserves it. Ellie. She’s a good kid.” 

“She is, yeah.” 

“It’s…hopeful. Being around young people again. We are all so… Well, I am so disillusioned with the world. She seems to have hope.” 

“Oh?” 

“Yeah. Asked me if I could find a cure if there was someone immune.” 

His heart almost stopped. What else did she tell you? 

“And what did you say?” 

“The truth. That it’s not possible even if we found someone with immunity.” 

“Why is that?” 

“We didn’t have the technology for this even back in the day. Not for fungi. It took years to create a cure even when we had proper labs and researchers. It’s not likely for us to even find someone who is immune. Even if I did, how would I get to the source of their immunity? We can’t do any tests. We can’t do imaging. If there was someone immune, they should just shut up about it and be alive.” 

“Isn’t that selfish? Ruining the world’s chance to… to become…become normal?” 

“It won’t. Not in our lifetimes. Say we do find a cure. How do we manufacture this drug or vaccine? How many can we make? A hundred? A thousand? And how would we even distribute it? I don’t think a few bicycles and our horses could be as effective as planes and ships to take them around the country. And these things have an expiration date, so…”

“I never thought of that.” 

“Yeah. People are so intoxicated by hope that they fail to consider the logistics. I don’t blame them, though. It’s only natural to hope. Because if there’s no hope for the future, there’s no reason to do fucking anything.” 

“Do you have hope?” 

“Of course,” you said, giving him a smile. Not a naive one free of the burden of truth but a radical one persevering despite it all. “Jackson gives me hope. I didn’t think there could be such a place… There has to be an end to the fungus’ reign at some point in the future. When it has no one to consume. There could be people who are immune and natural selection could take its course, pass the immunity on genetically. Won’t be anytime soon of course. Maybe a few thousand years.” 

“If humanity survives until then. We could all die like the dinosaurs.” 

“We could. Or we could survive. If we’re here, who’s to say there aren’t other little towns persevering? Maybe a few will evolve and survive. They may no longer be us— homosapiens. But they’ll be here. But if not, there’s still all the animals who will look up at the same stars we see every night.” 

“That’s strangely hopeful,” he said after a moment of silence. He wanted to cross the table between the two of you and give you a hug. Tell you that you were the only one who said something optimistic to him that wasn’t a load of rubbish. 

But he went instead for an ornament just for you. Carved it out of wood how he did with all the other ornaments he made for the town’s large Christmas tree. 

When you found the wooden star painted white at your door, you were surprised but had no doubt who it was from. You would never know what you’d done for him. He never doubted he made the right decision getting Ellie out of that hospital. But it helped hearing from someone who didn’t know what happened that she would’ve died for nothing had he made the wrong decision. It was an unexpected present. One you never intended. 

And the next time he was at your door with flowers, they weren’t for making paint. 

[ladysharmaa]

Heat

Jay Halstead x pregnant!reader

Summary: When Chicago is in a heat wave, Y/n feels unwell while pregnant, worrying Jay

It was definitely the hottest day of the year. Chicago was going through a heat wave and Y/n had never felt more miserable. It also didn't help that she was seven months pregnant with her husband's baby, Jay Halstead. She could feel the beads of sweat falling from her forehead and her face heating up so much that she must have looked like a walking tomato.

Jay warned her to stay at home and protect herself from the heat, but when the air conditioning broke, Y/n decided to go out to buy a fan. But she didn't know it would be so difficult to walk and even breathe on this hellish day. It seemed like with every breath she took, the air burned her lungs. She walked slowly, one hand on her stomach protectively, trying to at least get to the store that was a few blocks away.

Y/n knew Jay would be so upset if he knew she left the house in this weather. Since she became pregnant, the man has become even more protective than before. However, she knew he was having a busy day and couldn't leave work just because Y/n was hot — although he would do that if Y/n called him and asked to buy a fan.

But everything got worse when Y/n's vision became blurry and a feeling of nausea appeared. Jay's wife leaned against the wall next to her, trying to get some shade to compose herself. She brought a hand to her mouth, trying to breathe slowly to calm her heart that was beating rapidly against her chest.

"Miss! Miss, are you okay?" a man appeared in front of her, with a worried look. "Do you need me to call an ambulance?"

"No, it's okay." she managed to whisper. "Could you help me get to Fire Station 51? It's just a two-minute walk." the man, already advanced in age, seemed friendly enough for Y/n to trust him. And the truth was that she had no other option, as it seemed like her legs were going to give out at any moment.

"Sure thing, ma'am. Here, lean on my arm." he agreed with a gentle smile, offering her his arm to help her walk. "In this heat, no one should be walking around. It could be dangerous, especially in your condition."

"I know." Y/n sighed, knowing that beyond this lecture, she was going to hear worse from Jay when he found out. "But I wanted to buy a fan. It wasn't even a five-minute walk."

The man patted her hand in understanding. "I don't judge you, dear. My wife has already had three children, and in all of them, she was very stubborn. I understand that you don't want to be dependent on us, poor husbands, but we just want you to be well."

The woman didn't respond, now feeling even more guilty for not calling Jay to ask for this favor. She didn't want to bother him, but the plan didn't go as expected. The rest of the short walk was done in silence, Y/n's cheeks becoming more flushed, and having difficulty breathing in the hot air.

When they finally saw the fire station, Jay's wife couldn't be more relieved. Gabby and Brett, who were getting out of the ambulance, having just arrived from a call, noticed Y/n's tired form and immediately took hurried steps towards her, helping to carry her and him into the shade.

"Y/n? What happened? Are you feeling okay?" Gabby asked worriedly, helping her into the back of the ambulance. Y/n sat down, one hand on her stomach and the other on her back, closing her eyes as she started to feel dizzy.

"I'll call Jay." she managed to hear Brett say, but she was more focused on not throwing up than responding to the paramedics.

Thankfully, the man who helped her took charge of explaining what had happened. Y/n had the strength to open her eyes and thank him deeply for his help, asking if she could do anything to repay him, but he just shook his head and smiled. Then he left, as Y/n was now with people who could help her medically.

"What are your symptoms, Y/n?"

"I don't feel well, Gabby." her voice shook, fighting back the tears that threatened to fall. "I'm sick, dizzy, and a headache is forming."

After leaving the phone call, Brett began taking her vitals, while Gabby applied a cold compress to her forehead. "You're most likely dehydrated, we have to go to the hospital to put you on an IV and check the baby."

"But he's fine, right?" Y/n sobbed scared, clutching her belly as she looked at her friends with a frown.

"Yes, he seems fine. But just to be sure." Gabby comforted, starting to help Y/n lay down on the stretcher.

"What did Jay say?"

"Well, he—" the blonde paramedic started to say, but was interrupted by the sirens of a police car, getting closer and closer. "I guess that's your answer."

"How did he get here so fast?" Y/n thought out loud as he watched the police officer get out of the still moving car. He immediately looked around for his wife. When he saw them, he quickly broke into a run, his eyes wide in panic. Hailey got out of the driver's seat, right behind Jay.

"I'm really sorry."

"What, baby? You don't have to apologize." Jay knelt down next to Y/n, gently cupping her face with his hands so he could assess her condition. Unconsciously, his hand slid down to her round belly, finally managing to take a deep breath when he felt a light kick against his touch. "I shouldn't have left you alone in this weather. You're okay, baby."

When Brett called him to explain the situation, he felt a sense of fear like he had never felt before. Not even when he had been shot at, kidnapped or beaten. The most important people in his life being in danger was his worst nightmare.

Luckily, they were in the neighborhood and managed to get to the fire station in record time thanks to Hailey's driving. Over time, Y/n and the blonde had become very close, often ganging up together against Jay. Not that he minded, since hearing his wife's giggles and knowing she was more relaxed when Jay was working as she trusted his partner to protect him.

"We need to get them to the hospital. Y/n is showing signs of dehydration and the baby needs to be checked." Jay's head turned unusually quickly to Gabby in concern. She hurried to add, "They both seem to be fine, but I want to make sure."

"I'll go back to the police station and let Voight know you won't be working anymore this week." Hailey offered. "I hope you're okay, Y/n. I'll stop at the hospital to check on you."

"Thank you, Hails." Y/n smiled weakly.

"Let's go." The man nodded, kissing Y/n's forehead comfortingly. He climbed into the back of the ambulance with her and held her hand the whole way while Gabby got into the driver's seat and Brett checked some vital signs.

The ride was relatively calm, but Y/n was getting paler and sicker by the minute. Jay mumbled words in an attempt to calm her down, but inside, he felt like he couldn't breathe. They should have called two ambulances because he was close to passing out.

Finally, they arrived at the hospital where Maggie and Will were waiting for them at the entrance. In no time, she was already settled in and several doctors were checking everything they could. Jay stayed by her side the whole time, answering some questions from the doctors when necessary.

The fluorescent lights of the hospital were harsh against Y/n’s already sensitive eyes as she waited for someone to tell her what was going on. Jay never let go of her hand, his grip firm but gentle, his thumb softly brushing against her knuckles in a silent attempt to comfort her. Her heart was pounding, but the cool sheets of the hospital bed and his touch gave her some relief.

Will Halstead, dressed in his white coat and looking every bit the composed doctor he was, entered the room, clipboard in hand. His face softened the moment he saw Y/n and Jay.

"Hey," Will greeted, his tone warm yet professional. "How are we doing here?"

"Not great, Will," Y/n admitted, her voice weak as she tried to give him a small smile. "I feel like I’ve been run over by a truck."

Jay immediately turned to his brother. "What’s going on? Is she okay? Is the baby okay?" His words came out in a rush, and it was clear he was doing everything he could to keep his composure.

Will raised a hand to calm his younger brother. "Take a breath, Jay," he said, flipping through the chart. "We ran some tests and monitored Y/n’s vitals. She’s severely dehydrated, which is why she felt dizzy and nauseous. Her blood pressure dropped, but thankfully, the baby is doing great. The ultrasound shows a strong heartbeat."

Y/n let out a shaky breath of relief, her free hand instinctively moving to her belly. Jay visibly relaxed beside her, the tension in his shoulders easing.

"So, she’s okay? The baby’s okay?" Jay asked again, needing to hear it one more time to truly believe it.

"Yes," Will assured them with a kind smile. "We’re giving her IV fluids to rehydrate her, and she should start feeling better soon. I do want her to stay overnight for observation, just to be safe, but I’m confident she and the baby will be fine."

"Thank you, Will," Y/n said, her voice cracking slightly as tears of relief welled in her eyes.

Will reached out to pat her head. "No need to thank me, Y/n. Just promise me you’ll stay out of this heat, okay?"

She nodded, feeling a mix of guilt and gratitude. "I’ll try," she murmured, glancing at Jay.

Jay turned to Will. "Thanks, man."

"Anything for my sister-and-law and nephew." He winked at her before stepping back. "I’ll check on you in a bit, but for now, just rest."

As Will left, the room fell quiet, except for the soft beep of the monitors and the rhythmic drip of the IV. Jay pulled a chair close to the bed, sinking into it as he brought Y/n’s hand to his lips, pressing a lingering kiss to her fingers.

"You scared me today," he said softly, his eyes glistening as they locked onto hers. "Don’t ever do that again, Y/n. Please."

"I’m sorry," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I didn’t mean to worry you. I just... I didn’t want to bother you at work."

Jay let out a soft, incredulous laugh, shaking his head. "Bother me? Y/n, you and this baby are the most important things in my life. I’d drop everything in a heartbeat if you needed me."

Her lips trembled, and tears spilled down her cheeks. "I didn’t think it would be such a big deal. It was just a fan."

He leaned forward, cupping her face with both hands, his thumbs gently wiping away her tears. "Listen to me," he said, his voice steady but filled with emotion. "Nothing is ‘just’ when it comes to you or our family. You’re my world. Promise me, no more trying to do everything on your own. I’m here for you. Always. Ask me to buy you a fan, food, a house, I don't care, I'll do it in a heartbeat."

She nodded, fresh tears streaming down her face. "I promise," she whispered, her voice breaking.

Jay leaned in, pressing a kiss to her forehead before resting his against hers. For a moment, they stayed like that, their breaths mingling as the world outside the hospital room faded away.

"I love you," she said softly, her hand finding its way to his cheek.

"I love you more," he replied, his voice low and full of sincerity. He placed a hand on her belly, feeling the soft flutter of movement beneath his palm. "And I love you, little one. But you’ve gotta cut your mom some slack, okay? No more giving her a hard time."

Y/n laughed weakly, the sound light and sweet. "Hear that?" she said, looking down at her bump. "You are already giving Daddy white hairs."

As the IV continued to drip and the monitors beeped steadily, the weight of the day began to lift. They were together and okay. That was all that they needed.

[devildomwriter]

O Christmas Tree | Mephistopheles x Reader

1.2K Word Count | GN! Reader | Pre-established engagement | CW: none, just rich people

Mephistopheles was slowly beginning to learn that things that seemed like a chore could actually be fun and that he should try more things. One of these things was picking out a living pine tree for your Christmas decorations.

You too were beginning to learn things, or rather, compromise on things. The compromise this time was that if Mephistopheles was going to socialize near loud screaming children in the human world, then it had to be the best Christmas tree farm there was.

“I scoured locations from across the globe and this was the perfect farm for us. I checked the frequency of reviews, commonality of high ratings, and consistency through the years. I sent my butler to check the place himself as well and he agreed that was the best among the three I identified as contenders,” Mephistopheles proudly informed you as you parked the pickup truck.

The truck was a compromise from Mephistopheles. Something about getting dropped off in a limo and strapping a tree to its fancy scratch-free roof didn’t feel Christmassy to you.

Mephistopheles began to walk away from the truck not realizing the door was still open. You called him back and he looked surpassed and then flushed. He was so used to having the doors shut for him that it never occurred to him to close it behind him.

He cleared his throat and held out his hand for you to take. You held it and he straightened out his appearance immediately although nothing had seemed off to you to begin with.

You crossed the street making sure he made way for cars as they didn’t know to stop for him and led him into the rows of precut pine trees.

Mephistopheles pulled out a checklist from his phone. He’d measured the room it would be in to determine the best height and width for the tree. He also had been given advice to check for how sturdy the needles on the pine were by looking at how many had already fallen on the ground.

You watched Mephistopheles eyes wander up and down the trees and he pointed in the distance at the taller trees.

Now that you lived with Mephistopheles you could get a tree stories high if you wanted and Mephistopheles seemed to have that idea in mind but you reminded him of the pickup truck.

“We could teleport it.”

“How do we explain that?”

“Do you suppose they count the number of trees they have? I don’t believe a regular human can steal one of these?”

“Do not underestimate what a human will steal and how they manage to pull it off. I worked retail you would not believe some of my stories.” You pointed out and he seemed concerned. Mephistopheles was also the reason you no longer needed to work retail and for that, you were forever grateful.

“I see. Well…how do you suppose these trees normally go to people’s homes?”

“A logging truck maybe? I never thought about it…” you wondered aloud and you both stood there puzzled.

You shook the idea out of your head and pointed in another direction, opting for a normal-sized tree like you were used to.

“We have more space you know? It will look rather obscure in your room,” he stated his concerns but you shook your head.

“Nah. I think it’ll light up the whole room, just you wait and see.”

He smiled at your confident grin and nodded following you along to the trees you were interested in.

He scanned the ground for pine needles and pointed out a few he thought you might approve of.

As you held his hand a tree from the next row practically called to you and Mephisto noticed it at the same time, both of you pointing at it.

You looked at each other and laughed, happy and relieved you were so in sync on the perfect tree.

You cut through the row of trees to get to it more quickly on the off chance someone else would come across it. Mephistopheles nodded proudly as if he’d grown the tree himself and looked around for an attendant. He spotted one and quickly stepped away to fetch them.

As Mephistopheles left another man came up to the tree followed by an employee.

“Fine tree, isn’t it?” The man exclaimed happily and you nodded.

“Yes, my fiancée is finding someone now so we can get it.” You informed and he and the worker frowned for an instant.

“So sorry bout that…but uh, I actually came to get this tree for this gentleman here,” the worker apologized and you frowned. Before you could speak up Mephistopheles and a different worker came up behind you.

“Is there an issue here?” Mephistopheles asked and placed a hand on your shoulder, showing off his engagement ring.

The customer laughed awkwardly and explained he had come for the tree first. The workers both agreed and Mephistopheles saw a frown cross your face and decided that was unacceptable.

He reached into his wallet and handed the man a wad of cash. How much you weren’t certain but the man was bug-eyed.

“I—wha—huh?” He stammered.

“For your troubles,” Mephistopheles explained. “We’ll be taking this tree. I imagine that should be enough to get you a different one?”

You swear you heard the man mumbled something about being able to buy a nicer house with the money but couldn’t be sure as he backed away and patted the worker’s shoulder.

“It’s all theirs, I’m callin’ my wife!” He explained loudly as he giddily ran back to his car.

The workers looked shocked and hurriedly attended to Mephistopheles’ request for the tree after seeing how wealthy he was.

With more employees than necessary, the tree was carried and strapped to your pick up truck. The workers looked surprised at the vehicle after the display earlier but ignored that after they were each tipped a considerable sum, one even falling to their knees crying for joy and thanking your fiancee.

Mephistopheles wasn’t proud, instead, he was very weirded out by how a minuscule amount of money to him could move humans to tears. Despite dating you for so long, he still did not understand how much money he had in comparison to others. When you mentioned incomes less than three figures the first time he thought you were joking. This was one thing that didn’t seem to change about Mephistopheles despite how many new experiences he was sharing with you.

You got behind the wheel and Mephistopheles loosened his cashmere scarf and sighed in triumph.

“Did I do it right?” He asked you and you laughed and shrugged.

“Yeah. Not sure I’ve ever paid someone off for a tree before but otherwise yes.”

He blushed and turned the warm air on in the truck like you’d taught him.

As soon as you got back to the Devildom your normal human excursion turned back into the life of a noble with butlers rushing to the car to take the tree, another parking it out of sight, and maids rushing to grab your coats.

Mephistopheles sighed in contentment and reached for your hand. You smiled and let him take it as he walked you to the kitchen for some warm glasses of milk to perfectly wrap up your pleasant afternoon.

[thatbitchery]

Things no one told you so I will for no reson other than I'm bored

You can NOT unwant something. Desires are inborn. You are born wanting and until you either get it or exhaust all options, It will not go away. Acting like you don't want it will not take away the fact that you do and its little bitch behavior tbh. Meeting your needs will do you a LOT more favors than trying to superimpose others that you deem more achievable or acceptable (Again, little bitch behavior). It is a solid sign of Unthatbitchism to choose not to get what you want for whatever reason but especially because it?is?not?socially?acceptable??? all the women that came before you cry in their graves. All the feminists that fought for your right to exist freely, you spit on their sacrifice. in 2025?

Spirituality, but not manifesting and rocks and yoga and love and light. Never RELIGION I'm begging you never religion. What even is that. Spirituality, the other kind. The blood moon kind. The Penial gland kind, the one that used to have people burned alive. That, that spirituality.

Submission is a masculine trait. Not feminine. Again. nothing wrong with being masculine and mostly you have to be both but. Submission is a masculine trait.

Energy >> substance. Matter of fact is energy over substance. Its not embodying it's becoming. I can't explain this without going into voodoo witch area but listen- its something you become. Not embody. Not project. Not fake till you make it, no, its energy, mode of being. Seduction. Power. Beauty. Wealth. etc- its not substance. Its not something you become. It's something you ARE and it's not tied to substance. You know when you see a super attractive person but you are not attracted to them? They have substance but not energy. Or someone in a position of power that's constantly getting finessed by their juniors? All substance no energy. Its a state of being, like a point in an energy plane?and it is as simple as a decision & practise. If y'all were witch level of cool we'd learn so much but cowards. ALL of you.

Boundaries are also inborn. Given a boundary is a definition of person you are born with your person? A boundary is how- if you take all things in existence as one, you define yourself as part of it. Like your pocket is a part of your cloth but it's still a pocket and it has its own definition- That's a boundary. You don't create them you REMEMBER them and GO BACK to them. You don't superimpose and choose them they were there, but socialization faded them. Joy= boundary respected frustration/ anger/pain = boundary violated. Disassociation is the most ACCURATE indication your boundary has been violated, and it's a matter of tracing what happened and finding it.

Social skills = survival skills. Introvert does not mean doesn't like people that's called a coping mechanism introvert means prefers own company. Social creatures, people. Tribal animals. Herd animals, you get it? The people with the most social skills have the easiest lives. Its like fish that can swim. The most natural thing EVER. The winning code is actually just called social skills. Will outperform a PHD and social status and money every.single.time.

Femininity = Creation. Masculinity= sustenance & that's it that's all. Women have both men can ONLY have one.

You chose into this life. You did in fact choose to be born in that family to those people with those conditions. I'll stop there. This is, by the way, the epitome of empowerment. Once you understand this THEN you are empowered.

You have more than one soulmate I have never understood the idea of *the One*? Matter of fact if we are considering universal oneness everyone is your soulmate? But okay. he's not not your soulmate because you broke up btw. You get more than one. Much more.

Compatibility> chemistry. Wait till you get to therapy and learn all cool and fun things about chemistry haha. Choose compatibility every single time.

No one can save you no one is coming to no one even could? Even if they wanted to? This is not a Wattpad novel honey this is real life. No one can save you but you. You are both the sculptor and sculpture.

Listen to me. Listen carefully. You do not escape the Matrix you dominate it. Okay? Take the red pill live like the blue pill.

You can not be a *failure* as long as you are alive. Human conditioning is literally just to live and survive as long as you are not dead you're good. And no it is not to reproduce if it was natural miscarriages wouldn't be a thing don't you think? Then your body would prioritize your offspring over you? You're alive, you are experiencing life (why we have consciousness btw), you are fulfilling your purpose. You're fine chill. That's it that's your purpose. Survive and experience life. Which is to say staying in your room all day is, in fact, a failure but that's also an experience just a shitty one and why would you choose that.

[jburrgf]

About You II — The Love Trope Series

“Do you think I have forgotten about you?”

◦pairing: ¡lsu! joe burrow x ¡ex situashionship! reader

◦summary: second change trope, college relationships, slow burn love, right person wrong time.

◦description: after the dinner at Malone’s, your best friend and you go to the biggest party of the year, and there, you find out why you can’t forget Joe — at all.

◦playlist: About You - The 1975, Love Me Like You Do - Ellie Golding, Like Real People Do - Hoozier, I Bet You Think About Me - Taylor Swift, Called You Again - Lizzy McAlpine, Tolerate It, ImGonnaGetYouBack, Clean - Taylor Swift

PART TWO: FRIENDS

Joe and I didn’t happen overnight.

It was a slow burn, full of late-night conversations, stolen glances, and an undeniable pull neither of us could explain. He was juggling the pressures of being a star quarterback with the weight of expectations I couldn’t fully understand, and I was caught between wanting to be a part of his world and keeping my own identity intact.

We weren’t perfect. We fought. We drifted. We came back together, only to drift apart again. And then, just before graduation, Joe started pulling away for good.

I didn’t chase him.

And that was the end of it.

Or so I thought.

The faint hum of music and muffled voices filtered through the walls of our shared dorm as I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the pile of clothes Maddie had dumped on me earlier. A crop top, a leather skirt, and heeled boots that looked like they belonged on a runway rather than at a party in a dingy warehouse.

Maddie was pacing, a hair curler in one hand and a bottle of glittery body spray in the other, a force of nature in her pre-party ritual. She was dressed to perfection already, wearing a sequined halter top and ripped jeans that made her legs look a mile long.

The mirror in Maddie’s dorm room was barely big enough for one person, but tonight, we were making it work. Her makeup brushes, palettes, and lip glosses were spread across the desk like an arsenal, the tiny lamp casting a warm glow on the chaos.

“Y/N, come on,” Maddie groaned, holding up two options—a cropped black sequin top and a deep green halter. “Which one says, ‘I’m here to have fun but also break hearts’?”

I glanced up, her mind still clouded, offering a weak smile. “The green one, I guess.”

Maddie frowned, dropping the tops onto her bed and placing her hands on her hips. “Okay, what’s going on with you? This is the biggest party of the year, and you’re sitting there like we’re about to go to a funeral.”

“I’m fine,” I muttered, brushing her hair behind her ear. “Just tired.”

Truthfully, exhaustion wasn’t the problem. My chest felt heavy in a way I couldn’t explain—like I was carrying the weight of something I didn’t have the courage to admit. Joe. His name felt like a forbidden word, a ghost haunting the edges of my thoughts as Maddie flitted around the room, oblivious.

“Liar,” Maddie shot back, narrowing her eyes as she crossed the room to sit beside Y/N. “You’ve been weird all weekend. Let me guess…” She tilted her head, a knowing smirk spreading across her lips. “This is about him, isn’t it?”

The mention of his name made my stomach flip, but I kept my face carefully neutral. “This has nothing to do with him.”

“Bullshit,” Maddie said, nudging her shoulder. “I know you, Y/N. You’ve been moping around ever since Malone’s friday. Did something happen with Joe that you’re not telling me?” she said, rolling her eyes. “Look, I know he’s... complicated. But tonight isn’t about him. It’s about you having fun. Forget about the past. It’s just one party.”

“Exactly. Just one party,” I said, grabbing the crop top she’d picked for me and holding it up with skepticism. “And I’m not even sure I want to go.”

Maddie marched over, snatched the shirt from my hands, and tossed it on the bed. “Oh, you’re going. Whether I have to drag you kicking and screaming or not.”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. It wasn’t like I didn’t want to enjoy myself, but something in me felt heavy, like an anchor tied around my chest. Maddie didn’t need to know how often my mind drifted to Joe—how his face had been etched into my thoughts since that night at Malone’s, how his stupid note was still folded in my desk drawer.

“Y/N,” Maddie said, her voice softening as she sat beside me. “I know you miss him.”

I blinked, startled. “I didn’t say that.”

“You don’t have to,” she said, nudging me with her shoulder. “But trust me, wallowing isn’t going to help. You need to let loose, have a drink, and dance with someone who’s *not* Joe Burrow.”

I let out a dry laugh, shaking my head. “You make it sound so easy.”

“It *is* easy,”

I hesitated, my fingers tightening around the fabric of my jeans. “It’s… nothing happened. It’s just—ugh, I don’t even know, Maddie. I don’t want to talk about him.”

Maddie raised an eyebrow but didn’t push further. Instead, she stood, grabbed Y/N’s hands, and pulled her to her feet. “Okay, fine. No more Joe talk. But I’m not letting you go to this party looking like you just rolled out of bed.”

“You know i’m not thrilled about frat parties.” I said

“This isn’t just any frat party,” Maddie corrected, grabbing a curling iron and plugging it in. “It’s in the Kappa alumni barn. Do you know how hard it is to get invited to this? People are literally selling wristbands for $50 just to get in. We are *elite,* babe.”

“Lucky me,” I muttered under my breath.

”Come on, I’m going to pick out the perfect dress for you.” She threw open her closet, rifling through the racks of clothes like a woman on a mission. “We need something that says ‘I’m hot, but I don’t care if you notice.’”

“I was just going to wear jeans,” I offered weakly.

Maddie spun around, her expression scandalized. “Jeans? To this party? Y/N, we’re not freshmen anymore. This is senior year. Go big or go home.”

Before I could argue, she pulled out a sleek black dress with a subtle shimmer. It was simple, but the cut was flattering, and the fabric looked soft enough to melt into.

“This,” Maddie declared, holding it up like it was the Holy Grail.

I hesitated, glancing at my reflection. “I don’t know...”

“Trust me,” Maddie said, shoving the dress into my hands. “You’ll look amazing.”

With a reluctant sigh, I headed to the bathroom to change. The dress clung to my figure in all the right places, and when I stepped back into the bedroom, Maddie let out a low whistle.

“Y/N! You look... Wow. Just wow. Girl, if Joe doesn’t come crawling back to you after tonight, he’s an idiot.”

I finally turned to face my reflection, and to my surprise, I didn’t hate it. The dress hugged my figure in all the right places, and for the first time in weeks, I felt like maybe I could blend in tonight.

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at my llips. “It’s not about Joe.”

“Sure, it’s not,” Maddie teased, returning to the mirror to finish her makeup. “Now, sit down. I’m doing your hair and makeup.”

As Maddie curled my hair, the mood in the room shifted slightly. The music softened, and for a moment, it felt like the old days—just us two, laughing and talking about nothing.

“Listen,” Maddie said, her tone gentler now. “I know you’re going through it, but you deserve to have fun tonight. Forget about him, or at least try to. This party is going to be amazing. Everyone’s been talking about it for weeks. The lights, the DJ, the whole vibe—it’s gonna be insane.”

I nodded, her chest tightening. Maddie was right. I needed to let go, even if just for one night. “You’re right. Let’s do this.”

Maddie grinned, placing the final curl in my hair and fluffing it out with her fingers. “Now that’s the spirit. Look at us—two bad bitches, ready to take on the world.”

I laughed, feeling a flicker of excitement for the first time that night. Maybe this party wouldn’t be so bad after all. Maybe I could forget about Joe, even if just for a few hours. Maddie got all the makeup things right in front of us, and started to do my makeup.

Hold still!” Maddie ordered, her hand steady as she worked on my eyeliner.

“I am holding still,” I mumbled, trying not to blink.

“You keep flinching every time I get close. Do you not trust me?” she teased, stepping back to inspect her work. “Did you know they rented an actual DJ for tonight? And there’s going to be this crazy light show. Plus, rumor has it the football team’s throwing in a ton of money for drinks and food. This is basically LSU’s version of Coachella.”

I hummed noncommittally, watching her in the mirror as she worked. Her excitement was contagious, even if I wasn’t quite ready to feel it yet.

“Y/N,” Maddie said after a moment, her tone more serious. “Promise me you’ll try to have fun tonight. For real.”

I met her gaze in the mirror and nodded. “I’ll try.”

She smiled, satisfied. “Good. Now, glitter or no glitter?”

“No glitter,” I said immediately.

Maddie rolled her eyes but relented, finishing my makeup with a swipe of lip gloss.

Maddie, of course, looked flawless in her emerald green romper and heels, her hair styled in loose waves that framed her face. She had a way of commanding attention without even trying, and tonight was no exception.

“You’re stunning,” I said honestly.

“So are you,” she replied, grabbing her phone to snap a picture of us. “Okay, let’s take a pre-party selfie. Smile!”

I forced a grin, but even as the camera clicked, I couldn’t shake the nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach.

“You’re thinking too much,” Maddie said, catching my expression.

“I’m not,” I lied.

She rolled her eyes, grabbing her purse. “Come on. Let’s get out of here before you change your mind.”

By the time we were both ready, the campus was already buzzing with energy. The party was being held in an old warehouse on the edge of campus, the kind of space that was only used for events like this—loud, chaotic, and slightly dangerous.

As we stepped outside, the cool evening air hit my skin, and for the first time all day, I felt a flicker of anticipation. Maddie looped her arm through mine, grinning.

“Trust me, Y/N,” she said as we made our way toward the warehouse. “Tonight’s going to be unforgettable.”

The walk to the party was electric. The campus buzzed with excitement, groups of students streaming toward the barn like moths to a flame. Maddie chatted nonstop, filling the silence with stories and jokes that I barely registered.

But as we approached the barn, the music growing louder with each step, I couldn’t ignore the way my heart began to race. Part of me hoped Joe wouldn’t be there.

And another part of me—a part I hated—hoped he would.

I caved, mostly because Maddie was impossible to argue with, and by the time we arrived at the warehouse, I was already questioning my decision. The music was loud, the drinks were cheap, and the place was packed with bodies moving to a beat I couldn’t place.

It was an underground-style party. Everyone was wearing colorful, fluorescent paints, and the music had heavy beats. It was a fraternity party, but it wasn't at a house. Everything took place in a warehouse, surrounded by a parking lot that was already full when we arrived.

“Loosen up,” Maddie said when we got out of her car and were walking through the parking lot, heading to the party entrance. My friend showed something on her phone to someone, and we went in.

She dragged me toward the makeshift bar. “Come on, Y/N, I know why you're like this. But remember, we have to have fun, right?” she said, shaking my shoulders from side to side as electronic music played.

I rolled my eyes, letting out a small smile because the beat of the music was really contagious.

“Alright, but I’m not going to drink much!”

“I love you!” And that was what Maddie said before dragging me to the fraternity's makeshift bar, preparing something for me to drink.

I downed a few shots, one after the other, laughing and speaking loudly as people came over to greet us. I danced to a few songs with Maddie, swaying from side to side.I felt the urge to go to the bathroom, so I asked her to wait for me close to the bar. I started walking, looking for something like a bathroom, being careful not to open doors to already occupied rooms.

I found an empty bathroom at the beginning of one of the hallways. I fixed my makeup, washed my hands, and got ready to leave. I closed the door behind me, starting to walk down the hallway.

When I returned to the party, the music was louder, and people were dancing more. By that time of the night, the bar was even more crowded than usual, signaling that the party had reached its peak.

I tried to. I really did. But I wasn’t a natural at these things, and it wasn’t until I stepped outside onto the quieter patio that I felt like I could breathe again. I walked out of the warehouse, exiting through makeshift tarp doors. Outside, in the back, there was an Olympic-sized pool, illuminated and filled with inflatable balls.

The air outside was cool against my flushed skin, the sounds of the party muffled behind the thick metal doors of the warehouse-turned-dancefloor. I leaned against the railing near the Olympic-sized pool, my chest rising and falling as I tried to steady myself.

The stillness of the pool was a welcome contrast to the pulsing energy inside. Its surface reflected the night sky, fractured by the faint ripples of the water, and for a brief moment, I felt at peace.

“Finally found you!” Maddie shouted from afar, stepping out of the warehouse with a red cup in hand. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah… it just got way too crowded all of a sudden.”

“Yep, it’s about time for us to head out.” She patted my back, as if she knew me well enough to understand exactly how I was feeling.

The bass of the music hit me like a wave as soon as I stepped through the doors, the lights swirling in hypnotic patterns that danced across the crowd. The air was thick with heat and the mingling scents of sweat and cologne, and I almost turned back around.

I tugged at the hem of my dress, suddenly feeling too exposed in the sea of intoxicated strangers. Maddie was nowhere to be seen— I lost her when I got back inside. I should’ve texted her to meet me outside, but I didn't want to ruin her night.

The overhead lights twisted and flickered in a kaleidoscope of colors, casting long shadows that danced across the packed room. People swayed and spun to the beat of a song I didn’t recognize, the energy electric and wild.

And then it happened.

The opening chords of Innerbloom by RÜFÜS DU SOL floated through the speakers, and it was like the entire atmosphere shifted. The crowd slowed, their movements taking on a dreamlike quality as the tempo of the song washed over the room.

That’s when I saw him.

Joe.

He was standing near the edge of the dancefloor, just beyond the reach of the flashing lights. His blond hair caught the faint glow of the strobe, his tall frame relaxed yet commanding as he talked to someone I didn’t recognize. But it wasn’t the way he stood or the casual confidence in his posture that froze me in place. It was his eyes.

Because, as if sensing me, he looked up—and our eyes met.

Everything else faded.

For a second, I thought I was imagining it.

It was instant, like a magnetic pull I couldn’t fight even if I wanted to. The room, the music, the crowd—all of it faded away. All I could focus on was him.

Why does it always feel like this?

The way he looked at me was almost unbearable—like he’d been waiting for this moment as much as I had dreaded it. His gaze was steady, unflinching, and for a second, I thought he might come toward me.

But he didn’t move. Neither did I.

My breath caught in my throat. We just stared at each other, the space between us suddenly feeling both infinite and too small.

I wanted to run. I wanted to stay.

The flicker of the lights seemed to sync with the thrum of my heartbeat as he started walking toward me. Everything was in slow motion—the sway of his body, the way his hands slid casually into the pockets of his jeans, the way his jaw tightened when our eyes locked again.

The music, the crowd, the swirling lights—it all blurred into the background, like the universe itself had tilted to make room for this one moment.

*If you want me, if you need me... I'm yours.*

The words felt like a taunt, an echo of everything I hadn’t allowed myself to admit.

Joe’s gaze held mine, steady and unyielding, as though he could see every thought racing through my mind. His expression was unreadable—calm, almost curious—but his eyes told a different story. They were searching, pulling me in, and suddenly the space between us felt both infinite and far too small.

I couldn’t move. My feet were rooted to the ground, my pulse hammering in my ears as the world seemed to slow to a crawl.

He took a step forward.

The lights shifted, casting his face in shadow, and for a second, I thought I might faint. My breath hitched, and I gripped the edge of a nearby table to steady myself.

Another step.

The crowd parted like water around him, the sea of bodies moving in rhythm with the music but leaving him untouched. It felt unreal, like a scene from a movie, the kind you tell yourself could never happen in real life.

But it was happening.

And then he was in front of me.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice low, almost lost in the swell of the music. But I heard it. God, I felt it.

“Joe.” My voice came out softer than I intended, almost shaky.

Neither of us said anything for a moment. The room seemed to spin around us, the world a blur of light and sound, but we were still. Anchored.

“You came,” he finally said, his lips curling into the faintest hint of a smile.

“You called.”

He tilted his head slightly, studying me in that way he always did, like he could see straight through every wall I’d put up. “I wasn’t sure if you would.”

Why did he have to be here? Why did he have to look at me like that? Like he was still holding onto something I’d been trying so hard to let go of.

The muffled beat of the music reached me even out here, but it was quieter now, easier to ignore. I closed my eyes, focusing on my breathing.

But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t shake the image of Joe—his face, his voice, the way he said my name. It lingered like a ghost, refusing to let me be.

“Neither was I,” I admitted, my voice barely audible.

Another beat of silence passed, heavy and charged. His gaze flickered down to my lips for a fraction of a second, and my stomach flipped.

The song swelled, the lyrics a haunting echo in the background: If you want me, if you need me, I’m yours

The silence stretched between us, filled only by the song and the pounding of my heart. I didn’t know what to say, what to do. All I could do was look at him, and all he could do was look at me, like we were the only two people in the room.

Something flickered in his eyes—relief, maybe, or something deeper. He stepped closer, and I felt the warmth of him, the faint scent of his cologne mixing with the humid air of the warehouse.

The words hung between us, heavy and unspoken truths laced beneath them. I wanted to ask him why he cared, why he’d left that note, why he was standing here now, looking at me like I was the only thing that mattered. But I couldn’t.

The music swelled, the lyrics wrapping around us like a cocoon.

“I’m glad you did.”

The words hung between us, heavy and unspoken truths laced beneath them. I wanted to ask him why he cared, why he’d left that note, why he was standing here now, looking at me like I was the only thing that mattered. But I couldn’t.

The music swelled, the lyrics wrapping around us like a cocoon.

It felt like the universe was holding its breath, waiting for one of us to make the next move.

And then, without thinking, I took a step closer.

“Joe,” I said again, my voice steadier this time.

“Y/N…” His voice was barely a whisper now, lost beneath the music but somehow still clear as day.

For a moment, neither of us moved, the world narrowing down to just us.

And then someone bumped into me, breaking the spell. I stumbled, and Joe’s hand shot out, steadying me with an ease that made my stomach flip.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his brow furrowing in concern.

I nodded, my cheeks flushing. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

But I wasn’t fine. Not even close. Because standing this close to him, feeling his hand on my arm, hearing the way he said my name—it was all too much.

And yet, I didn’t want it to end.

He held out his hand. “I…”

“I can’t do this, Joe. I have to go,” I said, finally creating some distance between us. I walked out of the warehouse, but I knew he was following me.

“CAN YOU STOP?”

He froze, started, coming to an abrupt halt behind me. Even in the dark, I could tell he was looking at me with shock. I could see the way he looked at me, and it made me feel nauseous. Not because I didn’t like it, but because I missed it. God, I missed it so much.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he said, and I could feel the honesty in his voice eating away at me.

“You haven’t talked to me in months, and I’m not going to let you do to me what you’ve done before,” I said, stepping further away. “You forgot about me, Joe. Completely. You pushed me away, and now, I don’t want to come back. Just… stay away.”

Maddie came running after Joe soon after. With a confused expression, she purposely bumped into his shoulder as she walked past him toward me.

“Let’s go, Y/N,” my friend said, still shooting side-eyes at Joe, who stood there frozen. “Leave her alone, Joe. She doesn’t need you anymore.”

Maddie grabbed my hand and started walking with me through the parking lot. I got into the passenger seat, still dazed. It had been almost seven months, and that was the first time he had spoken to me.

When I looked in the rearview mirror, he was still standing there, in the middle of the street.

I knew I would see him again. I just didn’t want to believe it.

[lorax-devito]

ok well I wasn’t saying that you were harassing him so thanks for being one of the normal people who don’t send him threats

Also I’m not supporting Israel

I’m also i not supporting Palestine

many people in my family have worked for a thing called the red cross foundation and basically it’s whole thing is ‘we take no sides we just help the people who need it’ and that is always my mentality towards wars

none of the innocent civilians caught up in the middle of it deserve to die no matter what side bc they don’t make the choices which,from my understanding,is sort of Noah’s point of view as well.He apologised and explained many of the misunderstandings and that’s what annoys me when ppl haven’t done actual research into it but yeah that’s that

also u don’t think your homophobic or anything bc I haven’t been stalking your account to see all of your posts about this situation I just know @hawkins-batman would do a better explanation than me so I tagged them

And about the thing of all the companies who support all that,you can’t really expect everyone to do al that research and just avoid all of this stuff,it’s great if you do it and want to but you exactly expect everyone to do it

and finally I get what your saying but in my country theres not a lot of propaganda about this and no-one really talks about it so I agree something should be done but trying to cancel celebrities isnt going to do anything.Donating to food banks and that will help

it baffles me that I’ve actually seen ppl say “the people in Palestine would be so upset with us thay we let Noah do this and that” like girl I doubt they even know or care about who Noah is they are probably fighting to survive😭 please stop being little keyboard warriors and go donate to smth to help it instead of using the war for likes and attention or just no doing anything it’s pathetic😭

and before you come at for that last bit,I don’t mean you I mean the silly little ppl on Pinterest and that saying ‘he should be killed’ and all that shit

some ppl need to get a brain and if they actually cared about the war thay deeply then go and fucking help in some way instead of bullying people online

I will like to say this 'Cause a lot of you are forgetting what Noah did the last year and how he is pro-israel and think (or thought) zionist is sexy. Is sick that all you have a fake activism. and still choice to still support him after all. Free Palestine till a fucking netflix series its show to you.

[applestorms]

@jessaerys ok shit this took a while but WHATEVER. wammy's lore collection here we go :3c less analysis this time, this is mostly just to archive the main known details we have in canon about the house, and also the people from there more generally. however much you wanna accept all this/take it at face value is up to You, Dear Reader (and tbh y'all should just read all these if ur curious since they're all pretty short + have Interesting narrators. i'll include links to free versions). do whatever you want forever etc. etc. also, SPOILERS. obviously.

LABB: (listen here)

no this book isn't written by ohba. yes i'm including it. shush. anyways, most of the lore in this comes from mello's vague comments about beyond's backstory, but there's a Lot of interesting things established in this, so. here's a bunch of notable quotes. if you're not already familiar, please keep in mind that the narrator of this novel is mello, writing at some point shortly before his death.

"L. The century's greatest detective. In light of his staggering mental abilities, L died an unjust and untimely death. In the public record alone he solved over 3,500 difficult crimes, and sent three times that number of degenerates to prison. He wielded incredible power, was able to mobilize every investigative bureau in the entire world, and was applauded generously for his efforts. And during it all, he never showed his face." (pg. 10)

"So, what you're reading now are my notes about L. It's a dying message, not from me, and not directed at the world. The person who will most likely read this first will probably be that big-headed twit Near. But if that's the case, I will not tell him to shred or burn these pages. If it causes him pain to discover that I knew things about L that he did not, then that's fine." (pg. 10-11)

"I am one of the few people who ever met L as L. When and how I met him...this is the single most valuable memory I have, and I will not write it here, but on that occasion L related to me three stories of his exploits, and the episode involving Beyond Birthday was one of these." (pg. 11)

"Obviously, it never came to light that L--and more importantly, Wammy's House, which raised me until I was fifteen--was deeply connected to the matter, but in fact, they were. L, on principle, never got involved in a case unless there were more than ten victims or a million dollars at stake, and this is the real reason why he belatedly, but aggressively, involved himself in this little case, which only ever had three or four victims. I will explain further in the pages that follow, but for this reason, the case of the Los Angeles BB murders is a watershed event for L, for me, and even for Kira. It was a monumental event for all of us. Why? Because this is the case where L first introduced himself as Ryuzaki." (pg. 11)

"For any one else but those two [Near and Kira], my identity may be of no interest, but I am the old world's runner-up, the best dresser that died like a dog, Mihael Keehl. I once called myself Mello and was addressed by that name, but that was a long time ago. Good memories and nightmares." (pg. 12)

"She [Naomi Misora] briefly considered the idea that Raye Penber, or someone else, was playing a practical joke on her, but she found it hard to believe that anyone would be so bold to sign their name as such. L never revealed himself in public or in private, but Misora had heard several horror stories about what happened to detectives who tried passing themselves off as L. It was safe to say that no one would dare use his name, even in jest." (pg. 18)

"This was L, so he was undoubtedly solving several other difficult cases all at once. Cases all over the world. For him, this case was just one of many parallel investigations. How else could he maintain his reputation as the world's greatest detective? The century's greatest detective, L. The detective with no clients." (pg. 35)

"L had earned a certain degree of hostility from other detectives, and the jealous ones called him a hermit detective, or a computer detective, but neither of these is a particularly accurate representation of the truth. Naomi Misora had also tended to think of L as an armchair detective, but in fact, L was quite the opposite, a very active, aggressive individual. [swoon.] While he had absolutely no interest in social connections, he was certainly not the kind of detective to shut himself up in a dark room with the shades drawn and refuse to come out. It is now common knowledge that the three great post war detectives, L, Eraldo Coil and Danuve were all actually the same person. Certainly, anyone reading these notes is almost certain to know...though they may not know that L engaged in a war with the real Eraldo Coil, and the real Danuve, and emerged victorious, claiming their detective codes. The details of this detective war I will save for another occasion, but in addition to those three names, L possessed many other detective codes. I have no idea how many, but there were at least three digits' worth. And quite a number of those were fairly public detectives--just like, as anyone reading these notes must know, he appeared before Kira, calling himself Ryuzaki or Ryuga Hideki. Of course, Naomi Misora had no way of knowing this, but in my opinion, the name L was, for him, just one of many. He never had any direct connection to that identity, he never thought of himself as L--it was just the most famous and most powerful of the many detective codes he used during his life. The name had its uses, but lacked obscurity. L had a real name that nobody knew, and nobody will ever know, but a name which only he knew never defined him. I sometimes wonder if L himself ever knew exactly which name was written in the Death Note, which name it was that killed him. I wonder." (pg. 43-44)

"If we must discuss why L so adamantly refused to reveal himself, we can explain it very simply: doing so was dangerous. Very dangerous. While the world leaders should make efforts to ensure the safety of all the finest minds, not only for detectives, the fact is that the current societal systems do not allow for this, and L believed he had no choice but to protect his mind under his own power. By simple arithmetic, L's ability in 2002 was the equivalent of five ordinary investigative bureaus, and seven intelligence agencies (and by the time he faced off against Kira, those numbers had leapt upward several more notches). This is easy to think of as a reason to respect and admire someone, but let me say this as clearly as possible: that much ability in one human is extremely dangerous. Modern danger management techniques rely heavily on defusing risk, but his very existence was the exact opposite. In other words, if someone was planning to commit a crime, they would greatly increase their chances of getting away with it by simply killing L before they began. That was why L hid his identity. Not because he was shy, or because he never left the house. To ensure his own safety. For a detective of L's ability, self-preservation and the preservation of world peace were one and the same, and it would not be correct to describe his actions as cowardly or self-centered." (pg. 69 nice)

"So whenever L was working, he would usually have someone else as his public face--and in this particular case, the FBI agent Naomi Misora was filling that role." (pg. 70)

"Beyond Birthday had the eyes of a shinigami congenitally. It was not particularly difficult for him to track down people with the initials B.B. or find people who were fated to die on a certain day at a certain time." (pg. 94)

"Normally contact with a shinigami was a prerequisite for acquisition, but Beyond Birthday had traded nothing--he had seen through those eyes since before he could remember. He knew your name before you said it. He knew the time of death of every person he met." (pg. 94)

"You might think [the eyes] would hardly be useful without a Death Note, but that is simply not the case. The ability to see someone's remaining life is the ability to see death. Death, death, death. Beyond Birthday lived his life unceasingly reminded that all humans would eventually die. From the time he was born he knew the day his father would be attacked by a thug and die, knew the day his mother would die in a train crash. He had these eyes before he was born, which is why he called himself Beyond Birthday. Which is why a child as strange as he was taken in by our home, sweet home--Wammy's House. He was B. The second child in Wammy's House." (pg. 94-95)

"The competition between L and B. L and B's puzzle. 'If L's a genius, then B's an extreme genius. If L's a freak, then B's an extreme freak. Now it's time to get ready. There are things I must do before B can surpass L. Henh henh henh henh.' This thought was the only thing that made him laugh without needing to think about it. And those that know will recognize the laugh of the shinigami. Still grinning to himself, he faced the mirror, brushed his hair, and began applying his makeup. The reflection of himself in the mirror. Himself. As always, he could not see his own time of death. No more than he could see the death of the world." (pg. 96)

"We were raised at Wammy's House in England, in Winchester, as L's successors, as L's alternatives, but that does not mean we knew anything more about L than anyone else. Including myself, only a few of us ever met L as L, and even I knew nothing about L before he met Watari--Quillish Wammy, the genius inventor who founded Wammy's House. Nobody knows what's going on in L's head. But even so, I know how Watari felt. Looking at L's incredible talents from the perspective of an inventor--of course he wanted to make a copy, of course he wanted to create a backup. Anyone would feel the same. As I have already explained, L never appeared in public. L knew that his own death would increase the crime rate all over the world by a few dozen percentage points. But what if they could copy him? What if they could make a backup? That was us. L's children, gathered from all corners of the world.

"But even for a genius like Watari, creating a fake L was easier said than done. Even for Near and I, who were said to be the closest to L...the more we tried to be like him, the closer we got, the father away he was, like chasing a mirage. So I hardly need to tell you what it was like when Wammy's House was first founded, when he was still experimenting. The first child, A, was unable to handle the pressure of living up to L and took his own life, and the second child, Beyond Birthday, was brilliant and deviant. B stood for Backup.

"But B tried to surpass L, not become him...no, that might not be right. I have no way of knowing the inner workings of his mind. He...their generation was not like the fourth generation, with Near and I, all the children bound only to the code with the serial L. They were prototypes, never even given the L code, expected to fail. I prefer to refrain from idle speculation based on my own experiences, but, well, Beyond Birthday may have thought something like this: As long as there was L, B would never be L. As long as the original existed, the copy was always a copy." (pg. 104-105)

"The Los Angeles BB Murder Cases. L.A.B.B.--L is After Beyond Birthday. This reading is why I think this name is so much closer to the killer's intentions than the Wara Ningyo Murders, or the Los Angeles Serial Locked Room Killings. I wasn't talking about the names on a purely stylistic basis. Whether Beyond Birthday had put that much thought into it I have no idea, but if he had a specific reason for choosing to commit his murders in L.A., then that is probably why. I am sure he had a much more personal obsession with L as an individual than Near or I ever did. I can understand why someone would become a criminal in order to fight against a detective, which is why I can write something like this, but even so. What did he hope to accomplish by killing unrelated people? Or perhaps B simply wanted to meet L. Then he could use the eyes of the shinigami he'd been born with and see L's real name, see when L would die. He would be able to figure out who L was. Beyond Birthday had never told anyone that he had the eyes of a shinigami, and it would not surprise me at all if he believed himself to be some kind of shinigami." (pg. 105-106)

"Beyond Birthday challenged L. And L accepted the challenge. To put it bluntly, the Los Angeles BB Murder Cases were nothing but an internal struggle, a civil war within our home, sweet home-- Wammy's House. Unfortunate for the victims that got mixed up in it, but even if Beyond Birthday had not killed them, all those victims were fated to die that day, at that time, for some other reason, so logically and morally, their deaths were unavoidable. So in the strictest sense of the word, the only one who really got mixed up in their war was Naomi Misora." (pg. 106)

"L was said to never move on a case unless there were more than ten victims or a million dollars at stake. The only exceptions to this were cases at difficulty level L (extremely fitting), or when L had personal reasons compelling him to get involved. The Los Angeles BB Murders were both of these. I hardly need to point out the difficulty by this stage of the story, and L was essentially fighting his own dead copy. [harsh, dude.] The current head of Wammy's House had told Quillish Wammy/Watari, who had told L about B's disappearance in May, and ever since L had been looking for him even as he solved other cases. Wammy's House only knew him as B--they did not know his real name, Beyond Birthday, so this search was near impossible, but L knew who the killer was. He had not been looking for a killer so much as he was looking for a case. L had been waiting, expecting Beyond Birthday to do something to challenge him. L could move any policeman in the world, but in this case, he could not ask anyone for help except Naomi Misora...more than likely, for this reason. I don't think L really put that much stock in honor, but everyone is embarrassed by their own sins, and nobody wants those missteps to become public knowledge. L was the goal of everyone in Wammy's House. Every one of us wanted to surpass him. To step over him. To step on him. M did, N did, and B did. M as a challenger, N as a successor. B as a criminal." (pg. 116-117)

"No matter what she did, she had no way of knowing. That this killer, Beyond Birthday, could tell someone's name and time of death just by looking at their face, that he had been born with the eyes of a shinigami--she had no way of knowing that fake names were useless with him, completely and utterly pointless. How could she have known? Even Beyond Birthday himself could not explain how he had been born with the eyes of the shinigami, how he could use them with no payment, with no arrangement. Neither Misora nor L knew why, and, obviously, neither do I. The closest thing to an explanation I can offer is that there are shinigami stupid enough to drop their notebooks in our world, so there might well be shinigami stupid enough to drop their eyes." (pg. 193-140)

"'So, Naomi Misora...' said L, wrapping up. But Misora hastily stammered, 'Um, er, L...' but then she hesitated, not sure if she should ask this or not. 'You...know the killer, right?' 'Yes, as I said. He is B.' 'I don't mean like that...I mean, he's someone you know personally?' On the 16th, L had said that he had known the killer was B, and she had sort of known ever since, but two days before, L had said something that changed her guess to conviction. Whatever you do, please catch the killer. The century's greatest detective, L, would never say that about some ordinary indiscriminate serial killer. And the way his letter was just one letter long... 'Yes,' the synthetic voice agreed." (pg. 144-145)

"'I have nothing to do with him,' L said. 'To be completely accurate, I do not even know B. He is simply someone I am aware of. But none of this affects my judgement. Certainly, I was interested in this case, and began to investigate it because I knew who the killer was. But that did not alter the way I investigated it, or the manner in which my investigation proceeded. Naomi Misora, I cannot overlook evil. I cannot forgive it. It does not matter if I know the person who commits evil or not. I am only interested in justice.'" (pg. 145)

"My great and respected predecessor, the man whose actions were a strong influence on me personally, B, B.B., Beyond Birthday--obviously, I need hardly explain again that the murders themselves were not his purpose. So what was he doing? Again, I hardly need to explain--he was challenging the man he copied, the century's greatest detective L. A matter of winning or losing. A contest." (pg. 159)

"Since L could solve every case no matter how challenging, if he created a case so difficult that L as unable to solve it, B would have defeated L." (pg. 159)

"He knew that the moment he took action Wammy's House and Watari would alert L, so he did not even bother trying to stop them. He could only guess at which stage of his plan L would start to come after him, so he prepared things carefully, ready for L's entrance at any point." (pg. 159)

"B approached Naomi Misora, calling himself Rue Ryuzaki. Rue Ryuzaki--L.L. For anyone from Wammy's House, there could be no higher goal than identifying yourself with that letter--and Beyond Birthday seized this case as his chance. even Naomi Misora knew what had happened to detectives falsely identifying themselves as L, and B was from Wammy's House, so he knew this better than anyone--so this choice suggests the strength of his decision. He never once intended to survive--had had made up his mind. He was ready." (pg. 160) [trans. note: the name "Rue" in Japanese, ルエ (ru-e), is an anagram of エル (e-ru), which is how L is pronounced.]

"Naturally, his face and fingerprints would burn as well--he had always disguised himself with heavy makeup while he was with Misora, and he never left a picture behind, so even if someone directly affiliated with Wammy's House inspected the body, they would have no idea that Rue Ryuzaki/Beyond Birthday was B from Wammy's House. He had left nothing to connect Beyond Birthday to B." (pg. 162)

"B was presenting the Los Angeles BB Murder Cases to L as a case that could never be solved. That L could never solve. In other words, he had never prepared any clear solution to it--since the killer had committed suicide, disguised as the fourth victim, there was no longer a killer to catch, and no clues left to catch him with." (pg. 163)

"My poor, poor predecessor. Not only was he utterly and completely defeated, but he survived, driving home his embarrassment...he must have longed for death. Accept my condolences, B." (pg. 169-170)

"If I had space left over I had intended to carry right on into the other two stories I heard from L: the story of the detective war between the three greatest detectives, all solving that infamous bio-terror case, with guest appearances by the last of the alphabet, the first X to the first Z from Wammy's House; and the story of how the world's greatest inventor, Quillish Wammy, aka Watari, had first met L, then about eight year's old--the case that gave birth to the century's greatest detective, the Winchester Mad Bombings that occurred just after the third World War. But however objectively I look at things, I do not have the space or the time. Oh well." (pg. 170)

"She had spoken to L only once after the killer was arrested. He thanked her for helping to solve the case, and told her just a little about the background of the case. That B had been a candidate to succeed L, and that the pressure of that had driven him off track." (pg. 171)

"And a few years after his arrest, on January 21st, 2004, serving a life sentence in a California prison, Beyond Birthday died of a mysterious heart attack." (pg. 173)

C-KIRA: (read here)

near grief :pensive: pretty sure this was animated in the anime movie thing?? tbh i still need to watch that. Very interesting as some of the most recent post-main story lore we get about wammy's imo. less quotes now + more summarizing since these are just comics

near has apparently only "talked" to L once (in quotes since he didn't actually say anything, just sat in the back of the room doing a puzzle the entire time. real asf girl)

during this "conversation," roger or one of the orphanage heads set up the usual L screen + a camera/mic so that L could see all the kids and answer their questions.

notably, mello & near didn't ask any questions, just lurked in the back watching L with a "nasty look in [their] eyes," which near assumes is what made him pick them to be his top successors, considering the fact that he didn't actually look at any of their data. (somewhat seems to imply that L didn't actually give a shit about grades or anything like that when picking his main successors?)

while answering questions, near is caught off guard by one of L's answers. to transcribe it all directly here--

NEAR (NARRATING): At the time, I didn't think L would put it so bluntly. L: It's not a sense of justice. L: Figuring out difficult cases is my hobby. If you measured good and evil deeds by current laws, I would be responsible for many crimes. L: The same way you all like to solve mysteries and riddles, or clear video games more quickly... For me too, its simply prolonging something I enjoy doing. L: That's why I only take on cases that pique my interest. It's not justice at all. And if it means being able to clear a case, I don't play fair, I'm a dishonest, cheating human being, who hates losing...

not quite the monster speech, but fascinating all the same. near seems to imply that this answer sent some kids into a despair spiral, but it actually caused him to like L more and more, feeling that he was, "exactly the kind of person who wanted to achieve his own goals." kinda goes against the HTR13 ohba comment? shrug

The Wammy's House/L's One Day: (read here)

honestly i interpret these comics as like. canon crack fic. but anyways, here's the established L lore included in these two.

L was taken into wammy's as a nameless orphan at an unknown but likely quite young age

very soon after arriving he beats up all the other kids he meets--

he is "utterly incompatible," with all the other kids and monopolizes all the things he likes simply cause he's stronger than them and presumably could fight them for it-- naturally, he ends up usually just playing by himself

notably, this all establishes that L isn't the first kid at wammy's, that there was already at least one generation of older kids living there before he got there (and could eventually turn it into an L successor creating machine)

once watari realizes that L has some outstanding mental abilities, he gives him his own private room and a computer. afterwards, L spends most of his time sitting in front of the puter by himself

L requests that watari buy 1 million pounds with Japanese yen and tells him which stocks to buy, causing his assets to reach "almost 20,000 times the original amount," in two years. visually this is depicted as happening when L is still quite young

several years later, L stumbles across a serial murder case in the news, which is the first he solves, starting his new career path

-

L can stay awake for 100+ hours and then gets over it by sleeping for like 17 hours. pictures also may imply that he doesn't actually sleep in a bed, but just lies down sideways in his chair. RIP yotsuba light's perfectly designed sleep schedule

L also shits/pisses in the same position he usually sits in (frog-pose), facing the tank south park style

he is a big fan of cleanliness!! human washing machine etc. etc. honestly i think this is just another way for him to hold that same crouched position

text says he always has, "ten or so identical sets of clothes prepared for him," since he's picky about it, but the art itself shows way more than ten. also rare shirtless L moment?? (watari helps)

L does in fact go outside!! he likes roller coasters/theme parks, swinging, art galleries, live music, etc. though most of the time he just sits in his room thinking thru shit n solving cases.

[ilikekidsshows]

This is related to something mentioned on one of your asks (apologies if you did talk about it and I just didn't understand) but do you think calling Adrien a sexual harasser is comparable to calling Marinette a bad leader in terms of criticizing characters?

--

This is literally what I meant with my big rant on people who use “it's all just bad writing” to sweep aside bigger and bigger problems with the show. We're all used to excusing some level of bad writing from this show, but, like, usually people have a threshold for how much bullshit they're willing to swallow. I could excuse Cat Noir not getting the hint, just like I could excuse Marinette following Adrien everywhere and knowing his schedule (this is the actual equivalent point of comparison). They were quirky about it. Ladynoir was mutually flirty even if Cat Noir was too serious with it sometimes, and Marinette's nonsense was often funny. I mostly treated the stalker/harasser takes as opinions. I could see why people would view the characters that way, but I could see enough outside it to look past it. It was beneath my bullshit threshold.

“Marinette does practically everything wrong on screen but we praise her for things she didn't do so she did everything right actually” is past my bullshit threshold. You can't show the exact opposite of what you mean on screen and then claim something different is going on. Ladybug treats her teammates with different expectations, her rules are situational and conditional, she picks favorites, she keeps valuable information from her teammates, making it harder for them to do their jobs. Her failures directly lead to bad consequences. But, because she cried about it and was instantly forgiven while taking no steps to improve, that means she's actually the greatest superhero and leader ever. Like, that's a big plate full of bullshit and I’m done eating it.

Also, like, we really need to take the level of my personal betrayal into account when it comes to willingness to swallow bullshit. Like, Marinette being a bad leader and a terrible hero wouldn't bother me nearly as much if she wasn't also an abuse apologist. Marinette, when faced with the choice between doing what Adrien's abuser wanted and considering literally anyone else's opinion on what Adrien might need or want, picked the abuser’s opinion. Marinette picked Adrien's abuser over him. Like, if that hadn't happened, I wouldn't be near this angry. If Astruc hadn't smugly tweeted about how perfectly this decision ties in with her choice in The Bubbler, retroactively ruining one of my favorite episodes for me, I wouldn't be looking back at all of Marinette's failings and seeing how they led her to that moment. The writers practically invited me to do so. Even fans who still adore the show and Marinette think Marinette turning to abuse apologia makes sense. A lot of Marinette's character flaws lead to her making that choice.

Stalking Adrien > disregard towards Adrien's personhood > not considering what Adrien would want when she makes excuses for Gabriel

Lying/secret-keeping > constantly keeping things from people when the truth makes her uncomfortable or look bad > lies about Gabriel because she thinks it will make Adrien's emotional reaction less volatile

Repeatedly insisting kids are safe with their parents regardless of evidence to the contrary > discounting victims’ testimonies > trusting Gabriel's opinion on how Adrien should be treated

Unequal leadership > treating people as objects to be controlled instead of equals to negotiate with > thinking she even has the right to lie to Adrien about his dad

As you can see, a lot of the patterns of Marinette's flaws lean on attitudes that explain almost too perfectly why Marinette would trust Adrien's confirmed abuser's opinion on things relating to Adrien, even when she sees the sensory deprivation chamber Gabriel put Adrien in. Almost all of the bad writing choices regarding Marinette now connect to one of the worst, if not the worst, moments of the entire series so far. And, because it's all so interconnected and all-encopassing to Marinette's character now that I can't just ignore it. I can't ignore any part of it. The writers are making me question Marinette's integrity all the way back in the first season, because many of her flaws were already established from the start of the series.

In addition to all this, Miraculous functions on Protagonist-Centered Morality, aka, the things the protagonist does are meant to be seen as the morally good thing to do or at least a valid choice even when the consequences are "unexpectedly" bad. Adrien’s “harassment” is never framed as the right way to act, but Marinette’s abuse apologia, disrespect of Adrien’s personhood and abuses of power as team leader are all treated as morally being on the same ground as not doing those things. “Lying to him or telling him the truth will lead to very different consequences with their share of happy and sad moments,” my ass.

Adrien being a sexual harasser, Marinette being a stalker, Marinette being a bad leader and hero and Marinette’s abuse apologia are all bad writing, but not all bad writing is written equally bad, if you catch my drift.

[astro-witchery]

—🔥Astro ‘Hot’ Takes🔥—

(Mostly lighthearted but also… it’s the truth.)

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There is no difference between man and women zodiac signs.

— A man Scorpio will not act different than a woman Scorpio. Some might be like “but what about the sexes! Males vs female!” And I would answer the same. A Scorpio is a Scorpio. This sort of mindset also doesn’t account for people that do not align with ‘man’ or ‘women’. It also doesn’t account for intersex people. The zodiac do not have gender and they don’t change in interpretation when applying to certain genders or sexes.

There is no difference in zodiac months in astrology

— This means that there is no difference between, say, an October Scorpio and a November Scorpio for example. I’m not sharing this as my opinion either, in the classical study and understanding of astrology this will not be taught. Deacons can be more useful in explaining this phenomenon.

No sign or placement is ‘worse’ than another.

— All astrological placements, especially zodiac, have the capacity for positive and negative features. Some placements might require more work or they might not be in complete harmony, but that does not inherently make the person with said sign placement bad. Everyone has positives and negatives in the chart, all human life requires work and resilience and hopefully growth into something better than when we started.

Nothing is set in stone in astrology

— Everything in life is fluid and has the capability to change over time. The placements of your natal chart indicate potential. A proclivity for behaving a certain way. You might not embody everything about a certain sign or placement. You might embody said placement at one time, then through growth you don’t anymore. Another placement or aspect might completely overshadow a certain signs behaviors making it so that you don’t behave a certain way. You can have horribly negative looking placements and aspects (signs in detriment or a lot of squares and oppositions) but you could totally work through them with ease and kick ass at life. Diminishing your existence to your astrological profile and having a rigid hold on yourself is not what astrology is meant for in my opinion.

If you study astrology, you’re an astrologer.

— You don’t need to open up a shop or go take some astro course to become an astrologer. I understand if you’re just starting out and you feel like a newbie that you might not want to call yourself an astrologer, and that’s fine. But if you have been self studying for years, know all the zodiacs in order by name and can recall most of the archetypes by memory, know how housing systems work and what they represent from memory, know the differences between aspects and how they are calculated, know about different types of astrology, housing systems, and synastry/composite chart reading I think it’s safe to say that you’re an astrologer. Congratulations! Even if you’re not there yet, but you have the desire to continue learning go ahead an call yourself an astrologer too. I give you the pass.

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Those were some of my hot takes! Feel free to give me a follow for more astro and witchy content on your feed.

I also offer paid natal chart readings and I can do synastry and composite chart readings. I’m not super organized about it, I just do a sliding scale price for what you can offer. If you want some free advice just drop an ask and I’ll answer some of your astro questions ~

[loolilyumm]

I am screaming. Sobbing. Girlboss and fail-wife is my favorite dynamic. The way you draw is so pretty and your colors are so good plus people who draw 3 with sanitization scars are literally so cool I mean look at acht, there’s canonical examples of it. But literally going aaaa rn because I love your ocs.

We got Reese and Margot, how about 4 and 8?

OMG AHH IM SO SOSOSO HAPPY YOU LIKE THEM..AND THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE ASKS I LOVE ANSWERING THEM!! 🫶🫶🫶

I want to yap about my agents in separate posts so this one will be all about 8!

THIS IS OLIVE! She became agent 8 in the deepsea metro and has been a super active agent in the NSS ever since! They are like family to her - she lived with Pearl and Marina for almost 3 years before moving in with Reese! (Captain/Agent 3)

She was 14 during splatoon 1, and 16 during the events of octo expansion. Now in splat 3 she is 19!

She mains the dark tetra dualies but can use any weapon. She's super fast and agile so she likes weapons that work well with her speed.

She was an elite solider in the octoling army - she had just become one before she was ambushed by Cuttlefish and agent 3 (Reese) and they all fell into the metro.

None of them ended up falling in the same area of the metro, and Olive ended up being found by Tartar’s sanitized octolings and taken to the sanitation chambers to have her memory erased.

Side tangent - I have a specific idea in mind about how octolings are sanitized. If you want to watch this video, it explains it really well - https://youtu.be/zu4czvg5ClI?si=wFz1lABgkv7hz8Wk

But TLDR, there are 2 stages of sanitization. Stage one includes being wiped of all memories. The subject then has to go through a series of tests and trials before Tartar decides what to do with them based on how well they did. Then they get either blended or brainwashed into oblivion! 😆😆 woohoo yay! J think based on the side order diaries it kind of confirmed that 8 went through that first process…it just never said how so I made that part up. Lol

ANYWAY..!!! At the same time Olive is taken, Reese wakes up and begins searching for captain Cuttlefish. He doesn’t find him, but you know what he does find??!!?!?

WHOAAA WOWWW HE FINDS OLIVE

He’s like holy cow..! That’s the girl that was just attacking me…😦 and he’s like ahhh! I gotta help her!

But by the time the two of them make it out, he realizes that it’s too late. Her memory was completely wiped. The sanitization doesn’t leave any physical effects on her except for her eyes - they turned turquoise. The same color as the sanitized ink.

The two of them needed to find a way to find cuttlefish and get out of this creepy place, so they kept moving. Pretty soon they made their way into a train station and found cuttlefish waiting for them there!! And there was also a weird telephone that told Olive she was the newest test subject - and that passing all these trials was the key to getting her memories back and getting to the “promised land.”

Reese just went along with it because he assumed that was what octolings called the surface. He wanted to be a test subject too so he could help Olive, but the phone rejected him. No inklings allowed!

She was forced to go through hundreds of rigorous tests. She wanted more than anything to get back her memories and reach paradise. As she regained more memories, she realizes how different her old life was from the kindness these inklings were showing her now (and the two people on the radio called Pearl and Marina!). It just propels her toward finishing the tests, pushing herself to her limit, doing it not just for herself but for all of them.

She forms a really deep bond with these inklings. Cuttlefish is like a grandfather to her. Reese makes her heart flutter in ways she doesn’t even understand.

As the tests go on, she regains muscle memories from her days as an elite solider. She’s good at fighting. Really good. But these tests are really hard. 8 knows she can do it, but they’re really, really hard. And all these bad memories aren’t helping.

Through blood, sweat, and tears, Olive finally collects the 4 thangs and they can finally go to the surface! She is so proud of herself and feels on top of the world. Cuttlefish and Olive take the thangs to the telephone and wait for Reese, who’s out exploring the metro (one of the things he does to take up time and secure their safety). But the telephone is telling them they gotta go NOW and they can’t wait for Reese!

Cuttlefish and Olive say nope, nope, not happening. So they are forced into the blender and AHH!! OH NO VERY BAD!! EVERYONE FLIPS OUT AND…!!!

Reese appears and THROWS HIMSELF at the blender. Surprisingly, it works. The three of them leave the telephone and super jump through the hole Reese made in the ceiling. They’re going to get to the surface themselves.

Somewhere around the 4th phase, they are ambushed by a group of sanitized octolings. Olive gets separated from Reese and Cuttlefish. She is forced to keep moving and hope that they have made it to the elevator before her.

They have, but not in the way she thought! When she sees Reese’s partial sanitation, she doesn’t want to hurt him and holds back, resulting in herself getting injured very badly. She realizes this isn’t the friend she knows, and manages to defeat three and rescue him from brainwashing.

Soon after that she also saves the whole world and defeats Tartar. PERRIOODDD!! #slaythehousedown #girlboss

Reese and Olive got into a relationship soon after the events of octo expansion. They help each other through all the trauma of what happened down there and are the bestest friends and love each other so so much! Yay!!

And Olive got a new family that she loves so so much. YAYYY!!

AS OF SPLATOON 3…EBERYONE IS DOING AMAZING!! YAY!! Agent 4 is Olive’s new bestie. Margot (New agent 3) is like the little sister she never had. She and Reese have moved in together. She still does regular missions for the NSS and treats it as a full time job. She’s so proud of Reese for becoming captain. She couldn’t think of anyone more deserving.

I still haven’t decided what really goes down during the events of side order - I didn’t love that it was all a simulation, so idk how I’d write around that. I’ll figure it out! But for now, Let’s just say it’s not very fun for Olive.

BUTTTTT after the events of side order, she regains all of her lost memories (she left a few behind in Kamabo) and rediscovers herself.

HOLY CANNOLI I wrote a lot. I think about Olive so much and I hope you guys love her as much as I do.

If you guys have any questions about them whatsoever, please PLEASE feel free to send over an ask! I love answering them!!

IF YOU MADE IT THIS FAR…I love u. Mwah!

[fandoms-in-law]

The Kid's Appreciation

Summary: After their 7th day of recieving gifts the Kids start hatching a plot to thank Steve. Their parents had better get on board cause these kids will love Steve into crying on Christmas

A Christmas Day Ending to this post of Steve giving the kids advent treats

~

It took a week of daily treats from the music box for them to start planning.

Of course the kids expected Steve to be there for them if hell opened up again, and to give them lifts and keep in touch if it didn’t, but the music box and the things he was filling it with were something none of them had predicted.

“We should do something for Steve!” Dustin exclaimed it when they met up with Lucas, Mike and Max at the arcade.

Max gave him a deadpan stare, replying, “Der, some of us have been thinking of gifts since he started this.”

“He doesn’t want stuff. He wants company.” He met her judgemental tone with his own, rolling his eyes and thinking before turning to them with an idea in his eyes.

Mike backed off a couple steps. “No, I know that look-”

“Lets have a Surprise Christmas Party for him!” Dustin declared.

“Lucas, you’re helping me convince Mum and Dad. I’ll help with yours.” Mike bargained immediately.

Lucas laughed but that cut off when Max huffed, “Mine will never go for it.”

“I can convince Mrs Mayfield.” Dustin nodded assuredly. “So Christmas Day, we get everyone together then call Steve to come join the fun.”

“It’s doubtful we’ll actually convince our parents to let us do this on Christmas and where are you planning this to be?” Lucas asked sceptically.

“Mom or Hopper might know. I could ask them.” Will offered, “And if they’re suggesting it the other parents might agree more easily.”

“Perfect, that’s enough to get started planning with. Talk to them in the next few days and then we’ll do more.” Dustin grinned.

~

“We want everyone to get together on Christmas Day.” Will said, watching his Mom and Hopper carefully as the words changed how dinner conversation had been going.

Joyce reacted first with a commiserating noise, “Honey, The other kids families want to spend time with them too, we can’t take them away from that.”

“But we’re family too. You’ve said it to most of them, Steve, Dustin.” He began listing, already thinking of which other arguments might convince them to actually arrange the gathering.

El nodded beside him, “You said that we’re all family now because we look after each other and saved each others lives. And you were talking about just adopting Max two nights ago.”

“Her mother is-” Hopper began to grumble but cut himself off, clearing his throat. “Sure kids, all of us are family but their families don’t understand that and they’ll argue that seeing their cousins or grandparents one of the few times they’ll visit in a year is more important than spending time with people who you see regularly.”

“And we’ve not got a big enough space to host everyone. Where would you want this party to be?” Jonathan added, looking around their home and dismissing the idea Hoppers cabin would work since that was smaller.

“We could use the fire pit?” Will suggested, but his expression already showed how he disliked the idea of sitting outside in December, even if there was a fire. “Or take it to Steve’s? But cook the food here, so he doesn’t feel like he has to host.”

Hopper narrowed his eyes, “Why wouldn’t you be asking Harrington to host already if you wanted to do that?”

Will fell silent, pushing food around his plate.

“Because we want to surprise him with it to thank him for everything he’s doing for us.” El replied plainly. “Eddie can fetch him if we find somewhere other than his home we can all go to.”

Hopper huffed, knowing that with El and Will wanting to do this they’d probably manage to, adults accepting or not. “I’ll ask around places that might let us have some space this week, but no promises. Now tell me what Harrington has been doing to inspire this?”

Will and El tripped over themselves to explain, including pulling out the gloves Steve had given them.

~

"Joyce invited us to a Christmas gathering." Nancy mentioned casually as they had a family dinner. "Mostly Mike and I but you can come too."

Ted looked over at her in interest, "You've not asked permission to go anywhere for a while. When is this gathering?"

Nancy halfway turned to Mike, not quite checking the details as she said, "Christmas day about 3pm."

"We've got to go, Dad. They're our family too after everything we've gone through together." Mike insisted before the frowns on their parents faces could become refusal or objections.

"Family isn't made by sneaking away from your actual family and cross country road trips. Christmas day is to be with us and possibly your girlfriend." Ted dictated. "Ask Joyce to do it a day later."

Nancy glared, "We want to gather with the people who kept us alive through the darkest moments of the year on Christmas. We shouldn't argue with the planning Joyce has already done. That's ungrateful."

~

"Sue, hi, how are you?" Mike hurried downstairs when he heard the greeting, spotting Erica and Lucas stood behind Mrs Sinclairs, strained smiles on their faces that tightened when they saw him. Clearly the Wheelers weren't the only ones resisting their plans.

"Hi Karen. I'm well but wanted to know if you were also being asked to give up your Family Christmas for the kids to see each other." Sue replied pleasantly.

"They aren't just friends. We're brothers basically. After everything that's happened in Hawkins, we want Christmas to be for all of us." Mike frustratedly explained.

"And it's for Steve! I tried telling ours, he's going to be alone! On Christmas! And we're his family, us and Joyce and hopper, Robin and Eddie, so we need to be there for him." Erica added, annoyed and making Mike think that should have been their argument from the start.

Karen looked at her shocked. "What do you mean he's alone? Isn't he going to meet his parents somewhere if they can't come here?"

"No!" All the kids protested immediately, Lucas adding, "They never visited him those weeks he was in hospital after the earthquake or even called. Do you really think they'd do something for Christmas if a town destroying earthquake gets no reaction?"

She looked thoughtful now, "And you're sure Joyce is right to arrange a big gathering instead of inviting him to holiday with them? We'd love to have Steve here even."

"That's not all his family though." Erica said, her tone calling their mothers dumb even if she wouldn't say it. "He's the one giving us things every day this month. Why can't we go to the Byers thing and give back to him on Christmas?"

Sue and Karen shared a look. "Okay, we'll think about it but this isn't an agreement yet." Sue said on a sigh.

The three kids shared victorious grins.

~

"Dustin, can you come here Sweetie?" Claudia called upstairs. He'd listened to her chatting at the door for a while and ran downstairs now.

He glanced into the living room expecting Joyce to have been invited in. "Yes?"

"I know you like our small Christmases together but Mrs Byers just invited us to a Christmas with them. Would you like that just as much?" She asked hopefully, clearly joyful at the idea of more people around to share the day with.

Dustin beamed at her, "That'd be fantastic! I hope Steve's there too. And Max. Do you know if she invited the Mayfields?"

"I'm not sure but I'll call and ask. If not then I'm sure she won't mind me doing so." she assured him.

~

"No I see my daughter little enough as it is." Mrs Mayfield shut down Joyce's invitation before she'd finished saying it.

Hopper huffed, "And whose fault is that?"

"Hope, we're making a friendly invitation for them both to come. Don't insult her." Joyce warned, smiling through gritted teeth.

He folded his arms, judging Max's mother still, "Just say there'll be alcohol and she'll come. Skip the frills."

At those words the door was slammed on the pair but an hour later Max called to confirm they'd come.

~

"Christmas for Steve is go!" Lucas declared through the radio. "But we should still try to get him something."

A moment later Max replied, "A best mum mug or something equally sappy would make him cry."

"Heartfelt and condescending, he'd definitely know it's from us." Will quipped, snickers following the words.

"No, we need to give him a lightsaber and dice, get him to play with us." Dustin protested.

"I think Robin would know what we should give him." El said, her voice clearer than the rest suggesting she'd used her powers to help it.

~

Steve answered the door in confusion. Nobody should be visiting on Christmas day, they never had before though he'd occasionally been invited before the day to join other families on Christmas.

Outside stood Robin and Eddie, grinning as he looked them over, "What are you doing here? You're meant to be with your families."

"Wayne will meet us there. Come on Stevie, didn't you get your invite?" Eddie coaxed.

Robin shook her head, "We're his invite. And apparently an invitation from Hopper is too important for me to refuse so I got sent on my way earlier. Get your shoes and coat and we'll head off."

"Invite to what? Why wouldn't they have invited me before now whoever is arranging this?" Steve eyed them, but did turn to get ready to leave after a moment.

"It's a surprise and because they wanted to surprise you." Robin cheerfully replied.

"The kids then. Fine, let's go." he headed to Eddie's van, never questioning if he could drive them there.

Eddie’s car radio was just as loud as he usually had it but the tape playing was Christmas tunes that got Steve to laugh and had them all singing along on their way.

~

When Eddie pulled up outside the school, Steve hesitated. He watched the building cautiously, eyes scanning over the doors to store rooms and the entrance to the main building until he smiled at something.

Just beneath the roof on the corner was a flickering fairy light that he headed towards, even as Robin and Eddie seemed to dig through their pockets for something he assumed would be their invitations. He didn’t mind, since the kids had left him directions already.

Following the string of lights, and ignoring the calls of Robin and Eddie behind him questioning where they were going, Steve saw a gift attached to the lights with a ribbon but not hanging from them. “Do you think I should gather these and wait until I’m with the kids to open them, or just open it now?” He asked, cutting off a complaint as Eddie realised the invitation didn’t say where in the school whatever was happening would be.

“Now,” Robin decided. “I want to see what they got you.”

Eddie made a disagreeing noise, “Ah ah ah, are we sure that this is for Steve? We could be following someone else’s string of fairy lights.”

“It says Steve and also, no we couldn’t be. Why would anyone else chose the school to have their Christmas at?” Judgement infused Steve’s voice as he replied, more focused on unwrapping the gift, smiling softly at the painted flowers and ‘World’s Best Mom’ caption on the mug when he saw it. “Such shitheads. I love them.” He muttered, turning to carry on following the lights.

He carried on following the lights, snickering when the chain ended and a card was balanced between the plug for that string of lights and the next. The card was filled with small messages from all the kids, as well as Joyce, Hopper, Wayne, Nancy, Jonathan and Eddie, saying what they loved about Steve. With tears in his eyes he looked up to see the name missing from inside it.

“Where’s your message?” He teased, trying to pretend he wasn’t as moved as he was by the card.

Robin pulled a small card from her pocket, “Over here for after your kids have made you cry.”

“So thoughtful.” He laughed wetly. “Let’s see what else they’re giving.”

Around the next corner the lights went around Dustin was waiting, “Check point one reached.” He muttered into his radio before waving. “Steve! Open this now, pleeeaaaasssseee.”

“Hug first, shithead. You’re being too sweet when I wasn’t prepared.” Steve insisted, pulling him in before he could protest and causing the present to hit into his back.

“We love you, let us show it.” was mumbled into his chest just before Dustin pulled back, holding the gift out to him again.

Steve was still smiling as he unwrapped the gift, revealing two lightsabers and immediately keeping the green one while holding the blue one out to Dustin. “Dude, these would be so great for our handshake!”

As the pair went through their handshake Eddie draped a hand over Robin’s shoulder’s, “What is this and why haven’t I seen it before?”

“Their secret handshake. Dustin decided he was too old for it when he started high school but Steve says they still do it if it’s just them around. I guess having actual lightsabers overrules the too old thing.” She murmured back, smiling.

“Adorable.” Eddie smiled at the scene even more now. “Come on nerds, we’ve got a gathering quest to finish.” he called after Steve’s overdramatic death scene, laughing with them when Steve happily jumped up, neaten his hair and focused back on following the lights.

As they turned to carry on, Max came down the hall in the opposite direction. “Me and him are escorting you the rest of the way, Steve. The favourites get to babysit their babysitter tonight.”

“And you get a hug as well.” Steve agreed, tugging her in with only a grumbling groan in protest.

The hug was tight and carried on for enough moments that Dustin added himself to it, wrapping around both of them until Max pulled back.

She looked at Steve for a moment before tugging something red from her pocket. “You’ve got a party to attend, and a hat to wear, Santa.”

Steve only laughed and ducked down slightly so she could force it onto his head. “I guess I did do this to you. Is this one I got even?”

“Maybe, didn’t ask, I got an elf hat that day.” Max shrugged, taking one of Steve’s arms while Dustin took the other to keep them moving into the school gym.

Inside the gym was everyone, not yelling out ‘Surprise’ or turning all the attention on them immediately but separately waving or calling out greetings when breaks in their conversation naturally happened. Steve wanted to bask in it, or wander over to the other kids and join their chats, thank them for what they put towards this unexpected celebration, but the two on his arms led him over to the Christmas tree immediately.

“Now Santa Sweetheart, have you been good this year?” Eddie followed them, somehow getting a bright red long coat on in the time they’d walked across the gym and falling into his DM persona.

Steve laughed at the combination but nodded, “As good as I can be, even tried to save a few lives and convince others not to throw theirs away running into danger.” He replied, but wondered if he should have argued.

Eddie nodded slowly, eyes narrowing as if he was making a tough decision, “That does sound very good, but-”

“We’ve got evidence!” Robin interrupted, laughing and holding out her card. “Here, read this!”

Echoes of “And this” sprang up around the room and Steve didn’t notice who handed him a box of tissues as Eddie did indeed start reading out all the good or wonderful things his family thought he’d done that year, a lot of which he hadn’t thought about doing at all.

The kids ended up all gathered around him, all touching him in some way if they weren’t the lucky ones to have claimed his lap, which were Erica and El.

“We love Steve.” El said simply when Eddie fell silent, seemingly torn between going back into character or adding his own words.

He nodded at her words. “That we do, Supergirl, that we do. Steve Harrington is definitely on the good list this year and should get all the gifts he desires. However this is Hawkins and the funding just isn’t there apparently. Can I interest you in some awesome artwork and a dozen or more cards to fight any negative thoughts in your head?”

Through happy tears Steve nodded, reaching out for them. “Love you all too, thank you so much.”

“And the happiest Christmas we could put together for you too, Dingus.” Robin reached over to softly shake his shoulder, stood somewhere behind him and his kids.

[inamindfarfaraway]

AITA for paying my employee minimum wage?

I can’t believe I’m doing this, but I suppose unusual events may call for unusual responses. I (male in my 70s) am a wealthy businessman, landlord and moneylender, making most of my income from rent and debts. My clerk (male in his 30s) is my only employee. He has a family with a few kids, not sure how many. I pay him a perfectly respectable minimum wage for his position and I even gave all of tomorrow off with pay for Christmas, despite my opinion that a frivolous holiday is not that good a reason to skip work. He’s worked for me for many years and never once complained about his pay or conditions. He might not particularly enjoy his job either, but he doesn’t have to. It’s work, not play. Hell, I don’t particularly enjoy my job.

However, this evening… I heard another point of view. You’d never believe me if I told you everything and it feels like a dream - I’d certainly like it to be a dream, but I don’t see how I could have thought of it - but let’s just say that I was visited by an old friend. He’d been my business partner (male in his late 60s). Seven years ago he… left and I never expected to see him again. He came back though, apparently just to tell me off. He’s not doing well. He’s been travelling among all sorts of people and deeply disturbed by what he’s seen. The plight of ‘mankind’ and all that. He made a big deal about how I should be nicer to people and more generous and such, as if it were a matter of life and death. Last I knew we were on the same page about everything, but just now he looked at me like I was a criminal. Or an asshole, as it were. I don’t understand it.

I want to stress that nothing I’m doing is illegal. None of my business, none of how I treat my clerk. Well, I imagine that technically, if you were being harsh, you could argue that occasionally my conduct toward him falls under ‘harassment’, but I think that’s a stretch. When I’m strict, it’s out of valid concern for productivity. I am truly dedicated to my work; all I ask is that my clerk be the same. If he needs more money so badly, he should have the guts to ask for it and explain himself (I’d still have to consider my answer, but at least I’d know that he felt that way) or just find a different job or perhaps, heaven forbid, be a bit more financially responsible. If he has to scrape together Christmas festivities, maybe he shouldn’t bother celebrating it at all, for example. Why spend his money on that instead of food or clothes? Or keeping or investing it? I’ve saved as much as possible and I’m all the better off for it. I think it’s far more likely that he simply wants more than he deserves - if he does want a raise, which he hasn’t said! He agreed to this pay. We made an arrangement, and based on the stable routine of all these years, it benefits both of us. I don’t know why my friend thinks there’s a problem.

But he does. He was… he was seriously unhappy with me. I’ve never known him to be so sentimental, and he wouldn’t get that emotional for absolutely no reason, so here I am. Am I ‘the asshole’ for paying my employee a completely legal and normal minimum wage?

Update:

I think I probably am the asshole here. I’ve read your feedback, done a lot of reflection, taken quite the walk down memory lane, and among other things I remembered my old boss and how he treated me. He dominated so much of my life, he could have done the bare minimum or made me miserable, but he was nice. He just chose to be kind. Like he asked “Why not?” when I always tend to ask “Why?”. And he payed me better than I pay my employee, especially relative to his income. I can definitely afford to give my clerk a raise, and treat him with more respect while I’m at it. Authority is a powerful thing. I’ve… I’ve been taking advantage of it. I’ve been taking my clerk for granted. But he’s a good worker and he deserves to be rewarded. I’ll raise his pay when he comes back in on Boxing Day.

Thank you for your advice. I don’t appreciate the insults - I am not a parasite, I have pulled myself up with my own honest work, and there’s nothing wrong with getting ahead when it’s eat or be eaten. We all do what we have to do. But I should also do more. So in hindsight, much of your criticism was accurate and warranted. Good for you. I know it’s a bad time and you must all busy and/or tired. I wasn’t planning to stay up this late. I will now hopefully get some sleep.

Should I say goodbye? I don’t know what I’m doing, I’ve never done this before. What the hell, why not? Goodnight.

Update:

So. Some more stuff happened and I ended up going for a… a walk, an extremely normal walk, and meeting my clerk’s family. Or at least seeing them. It’s hard to explain. What time is on your computer clocks, by the way? I think mine is broken. Anyway, my clerk is like, Poor. Poor poor. And I’m a huge asshole. I knew theoretically that the minimum wage and the living wage are not the same, but I never really thought about the effects of that, I didn’t want to think about it, but I am now! I’m beyond an asshole, I’m a piece of shit!

This family, they’re struggling so much and they have so many other problems and I’ve kept them living on a pitiful salary. One of their children is sick. I don’t know exactly what it is, but it’s bad and it’s getting worse. There is a treatment that could help him, but it’s expensive and they can’t afford it, his parents know they can’t afford it, and if he doesn’t get it… I don’t know how long this kid has left. He’s the sweetest little boy and he might not even grow up. These parents love their kids with everything they have, but they can’t fix this. But! But I’m right here! I’ve been right here with all this money all this time, and I never bothered to ask about his family or care or help. It would have been so easy. I wish I’d realised all of this years earlier. I’m such a piece of shit. But I still have time and a plenty of money. I’m going to help. I’ll do everything I can. I promise.

Also, I am sorry for my replies to some of your comments on my original post. I was spiteful and insensitive. I’ve been… very angry for a very long time, more at the world in general than anything else, and in the habit of taking it out on whoever I could. I need to stop that. I’ll add it to the list. Consider those replies redacted. Once again, thank you for your feedback and goodnight. Merry Christmas. I hope you get enough sleep if you’re awake in my time zone at this hour.

update

do you ever think about how we’re all going to die? we could all die at any moment. we never know when we never know how much time we get and that’s why life is sososo precious and you have to use it wisely. but i have not! done that! i’m old i could die any day now. i could die today and what would i have to show? for my entire great big life? loads of money i’m never gonna use? i always thought that how much of something you had was about how you spent it. money and time. what you get is what you give or deserve. but it’s not! it’s mostly just luck and other people. most rich people are just born rich already. then it’s easy to get richer from there. i wasn’t born rich not really but i had a lot of help, a good school, a good boss, my friend, and now that i am rich i do less work for more money. it’s not fair. i’ve fucked up so much for so long and yet i have so much money and i’ve had so much time and i’ve wasted both of them. i don’t need all that money in the first place but that’s what i’ve spent my whole life on, why? what’s the point?

and then on the other hand you have the fact that. children are dying right now. whenever you’re reading this. loads and load of them all over when they don’t have to. fucking kids. and innocent people good people amazing people who are happy who make people happy who use their time infinitely better than i have don’t earn any reward. they don’t get any justice. most people have less than they need and meanwhile so many bastards have so much more. why? what’s the point of it?

why is it like this? why is the world like this? like we waste so much food and water and money so why don’t we just give it to poor people if we’re not going to use it? why do you have to pay for it if there’s so much why can’t? and like rent why do people have to pay rent? why can’t you just live somewhere? or medicine why do you have to pay for that? it’s. it’s life! why do we have to pay for LIFE when you don’t choose to be born? it’s not right.

and i know that there are laws and politics deciding those big things. but we can still make it better right? we can make a difference can’t we? even though there are so many massive problems like poverty and war and hunger and so many people who aren’t helping when they could. it still matters right? being good. even though you’re just one person. right?

why do kids have to die when they don’t have to die

it’s not fair. it’s not fair

i’m sorry. i shouldn’t even be posting this. it’s just venting and rambling and it probably doesn’t make any sense. i swear to god i’m not drunk or high i’m just having a really weird night. it’s like i’ve shut out a million things over decades and tonight they’re all flooding in at once.

i just. i feel like i’m dying and i need to get these thoughts out of my head. i need to know that they’re real and i’m real and i’m alive. i need to know that it matters.

i’m sorry. i’m so sorry.

UPDATE!

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!!!!!!!!!!!! I am not dead and I don’t think I’m crazy, I honestly feel the best I have in ages, and I will not elaborate on last night because that’ll only raise more questions but I will say this! I paid for my clerk’s Christmas dinner and I’m gonna give him a gigantic raise! I also donated a fuckton to charity! Thank you all so much I love you!!!!!

Update:

Happy Boxing Day, everyone. After that rollercoaster, I thought I ought to formally conlude this strange saga. My clerk came back to work this morning and I gave him his raise and a profound apology, as well as paid leave until a couple of days after New Year’s. To call him surprised would be an understatement. It was very fun. I totally understand if he chooses to get a new job now, but I hope we keep in touch. He’s a wonderful person. And I’d like to know if his son will be okay.

Although I haven’t got far yet (I’ve been catching up with family, I was the asshole there too, but no need to dump that baggage on you now that it’s being resolved), I am planning to make some major reforms to my business strategies. I’ve lowered rent on my properties to something affordable, for a start. I’m also researching charities and community projects. I have a great deal of moral debt to redeem. You can make a difference and I’m gonna prove it.

Many thanks for your support and concern, and rest assured that I’m in about as good health as I can be at this age, with the caveat of a mild hangover after a Christmas party. Turns out I like parties. I am processing that… ah, crisis, and I have people who care about me and a strong resolve to ground me. I will look into therapy.

I wish you all the best. I meant it, so I’ll repeat it: I love you. And my old friend, if you’re reading this wherever you are now, thank you for that intervention. It was worth it. I hope you’re doing better and we can talk again someday.

[dykedvonte]

Curly had two days to act and Swansea had two months.

I think it’s just interesting that every defense of Swansea not immediately acting are the same ones that are argued against for Curly. “He didn’t want to alert Daisuke or makes things worse for Anya either Jimmy!” I mean people also assume that about Curly and the crew. “He has to think about his plan of action and a right moment!” Again so did Curly, power and authority aside, he still would have to think of what he had to do. “He makes sure he doesn’t have to be around Jimmy!” So did Curly and they only do this to an extent, both give Jimmy more than a few opening to keep harassing Anya.

This isn’t defense of Curly nor a damnation of Swansea. Their actions are very parallel to each others in tragic and sour ways when it comes to how they approached helping Anya. In the grand scheme of it all they both did the same thing: Nothing. No action either took stopped the inevitable outcome of her death nor Jimmy’s continued damage to themself.

The only real difference is Swansea didn’t like Jimmy which is pretty substantial, but also just as damning as Curly knowing how bad Jimmy could get to an extent. He had even less of a reason to wait, even more of a reason to act seeing as he was now worried for Anya AND Daisuke. He is not bound by the possible procedure as Captain and actively does not care about what happens next. So what does it matter if he acted in the moment? Why did he wait? I think he’s just as morally complex and grey as Curly and we hold him on a pedestal that still perpetuates things in rape culture the game critiques.

It’s not just enough to dislike and be abrasive to predators/abusers like Jimmy. It’s not enough to just put yourself between them and the other person. It’s not enough to hold tensions when you know someone is vulnerable. He and Curly do the exact same things but on different sides of the coin. I ask how is it better to not turn a blind eye but still not really do anything about what you are seeing? Not until it affects you atleast…

The game makes a big point to not put men doing the bare minimum or who wait to do more on pedestals and I’m actually surprised so many are missing that point.

[quaranmine]

On Wednesday before I gave my presentation I confessed to a new employee that I was worried it would be too long and she brightly told me her life hack was to just let AI rewrite things for her. She said I should put in all my talking points and ask ChatGPT to give me a five minute exactly presentation. I was like....how is the most polite possible way (since this is a new colleague I shouldn't get off on the wrong foot with) that I can express that I will Not be taking this advice. Ever. I told her that I didn't think we were allowed to use ChatGPT at this job (we most certainly are not, it is a nightmare for any type of protected information) and also that I prefer to write all of my own work. Despite my best efforts the last part of that was still passive aggressive, lol.

Something about being a writer makes it so that it's almost offensive to me for someone to suggest I use AI to do my work instead? Like, the day I reach the point where I let AI write something for me is the day y'all need to be checking me for brain damage because clearly I'm losing it

[whywoulditho]

english (and almost every other european language tbh) has always been fucking weird to me because why the fuck would you need gender-specific names to like, body scent. why not just call them the same thing. what exactly is the difference between a perfume and a cologne?? or like, niece and nephew? i mean why go out of your way to invent two words that mean the same thing but one is only for men and the other is only for women? when they're quite literally the same thing???