#this current career is hurting more than its ever helped

[witchlenore]

I'm going to have to block the ai tag in every way I can, as a creative who has always dreamed about being able to actually work selling my art I just find it all heartbreaking and I've had at least two panic attacks about the way ai is being sent after our art, our writing, our narration, our very appearances, and I just can't do it ok? I am already barely making it from day to day.

[jadevoir]

SEALED WITH A KISS - Rhea Ripley

AN: So i actually got a 50/50 response for my poll so now you guys get a fluff bc i wanted to write one! So sorry its been a little bit

- Based on Rhea’s injury to her leg during Monday night RAW against Liv/Dom

Sum: Rhea hates being injured, complaining to you that it makes her feel weak, so you try your best to cheer her up

TW: Mention of injury, slight angst(?)

Word Count: 802

Rhea Ripley x Reader

“I’m so sick of it! A pro wrestler made out of paper!” Her voice rang out through your shared home, the sound of objects thudding to the floor and faint cracking made you look up and over your computer.

A small frown graced your features, shutting the laptop in front of you and rising to your feet. You weren’t sure what you could say to her, she was wrong in her thinking of course, but all paths lead to her constantly being hurt back to back.

Your head peeked around the corner of the kitchen and you saw her leaned over the island, eyes screwed shut and her injured leg moved back and forth as if she was stretching the limb, trying to make it feel better and miraculously heal itself right then and there. You couldn’t help but frown at her current situation, obviously she didn’t mean to get into something like this, but her being at her wits end made you feel helpless as to what you could do

As quiet as can be, you maneuvered around the corner, your hand moving onto her back and one supporting her as she moved to look at you.

“Why don’t we go sit down? I’ll get some ice and we’ll just have a little date on the couch”

Even more of a frown graced your features as she painfully just nodded and used you as a balance to get herself to the couch. You slowly helped her down and gave her a kiss on the head, scratching at the back of it like you knew she loved.

Not before long, you too were cuddled up on the couch watching some sort of movie she picked out, you weren’t really watching the movie and you could tell Rhea’s mind was somewhere else. Without much thought, you grabbed the remote and paused the movie, hand moving toward her injured leg and applying feather light pressure in a circular motion. You watched her face as it contorted to a confused look which turned into a look of relief

“You know that mistakes happen, especially in your career choice, injuries heal, and things get better.” You spoke softly, heart skipping a beat as your lover sighed heavily and opened her mouth to speak while running a hand through her hair

“It just never seems to end, I don't understand how I can keep getting injured like this..” Her voice cracked, making you stop your movements on her leg, only to be nudged back to it quickly. Of course you’ve seen her vulnerable, but when it comes to her career and her health, it seemed to way down on her more than anything.

“It’s just not fair, it feels as if I'm too weak, why do I even try?” The way the words kept tumbling out of her mouth made you cringe, you hated when she talked badly of herself, and right now that was all that seemed to be going through her head.

You pulled her to your chest, running your fingers through her hair and listening to her bated breath. If it was someone else you wouldn’t be sure what to say, but when it came to your girlfriend, it always seemed to form.

“You’re never too weak baby, look at how far you’ve gotten even without injury, that fight is still there, you know that. Maybe this is your chance to get that break you always deserved,”

You waited for her to nod her head in understanding before you continued.

“With the right time and care, everything can fall into place, you’ll be the best you ever have been with this injury, you’ll learn from it, grow from it of course, and become the best you that the world is gonna see”

At the end of your words you felt a patch of your shirt wet, her body slightly shaking before she took a big breath in and hugged you tightly. Strong arms seemed not so strong as they trembled and held you with a gentle grasp that made you almost cry yourself. She was your rock, always there to support you and get you through hard times, and now, you fell into that role for her.

You fell into a rhythm of kissing her head and rubbing her back, the woman slowly calming down and you could feel how tired she was getting. You almost offered to sleep on the couch, but knowing that you both wouldn’t fit you stumbled your girlfriend to your shared room.

Almost immediately she reached for your hand as you moved to the other side of the bed, giggling softly, you crawled next to her, hand caressing her cheek before you kissed her gently.

“Thank you…” She mumbled softly, eyes getting overpowered by sleep

“Of course my love”

[iwishthebestforyou]

it still hurts, watching him fade away

kazuha x gn!reader // I didn't reread it before I posted it, so probably isn't that good

sypnosis: your childhood bestfriend — who you've had a BIG crush on since kindergarten is moving away soon. With the remaining time you have to be near him, you make it a mission to confess before he leaves.

angst btw

You fiddled with your pen as your teacher continues speaking about a topic you couldn't care less about, your mind on a whole different topic.

Staring at the window beside your seat, looking out at the view. It was already the end of your senior year, exams are piling up and it seems spring is coming to an end.

Your eyes left the windows view and stared at the career test on your table, the small piece of paper felt heavier than it should have. The simple questions make you feel pure dread.

Looking around the classroom, everyone was writing down their hopes, dreams and ambitions on that paper. While yours laid empty.

Sighing deeply, as the bell rang signifying the end of the class, finally. Your paper was still empty so, guess you'll turn it in tomorrow.

Walking out the classroom, you watched everyone walk by. Everything felt so fast, like time was mocking you as it flew by, the people around you seemingly adapted to the fast currents of time, while you.. you're still stuck here. Still stuck never knowing where you're gonna be..

Your deep thought process was interrupted by a tap on your shoulder, ah—

Its him. Kazuha.

The man you've grown to love for years, your childhood crush up until now. It may seem silly, but you've loved him ever since you were a child. Ever since he helped you up that day when you sprained your knee, that memory still perfectly in touch, the way he cried harder than you did despite you being the one injured.

It was meant to be right?

You smiled at him as he chuckled

" Just what are you doing here, standing around here hm? Waiting for me? "

He teased, words casual like always. He had no idea how much it affected you — you hated how he could say such words without being affected, while you were a mess just from a simple sentence.

" No way! I was just thinking... " You said, defending yourself from the accusation that he gave. You're not waiting for him!

" Thinking about what? It's not like you to be so lost in thought.. " He said, responding pretty quickly, as his face turned into one of curiosity.

Your face started to heat up.

" It's nothing.. it's just about the career thing.. that stupid test. " You said, looking at him and you felt the butterflies erupting in your stomach, God, how could he just stand there and look so.. so beautiful?

His eyes softened, nodding in understanding before looking at the window, the sun now annoyingly bright.. but he didn't seem as affected as you.

" I already filled that out. I'm moving abroad, I don't think staying in one place is my thing .. " He said a soft smile on his face and yours faltered.

Huh? He's moving?

Your breath hitched before you quickly repeated

" Abroad? " ..

" Yeah. " He said, looking at you.. but it felt like a knife was twisting in your chest.

" Oh.. good for you! " You said, forcing a smile that didn't reach your eyes.

The rest of the day passed in a blur after those words. Moving abroad?.. You felt the weight in your chest grow heavier.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t thought about this before.. people leave, plans change and he's no different, you always knew he had bigger dreams than this small town.. He has to do what he can to get a good future, no?.. but hearing him say it so casually made it feel so.. feel so weird.

You had one month.

Your eyes lingered on him as he walked ahead, the sunlight catching his hair in a way that made your heart ache even more. You clenched your fist, a new found determination.

One month to say what you’ve been holding onto for years.

One month to say I love you.

You can do this.

As days flew by, you found yourself clinging to every moment with Kazuha. The playful teasing, the comfortable silences everything about him became a little more exciting, a little more bittersweet, knowing that by the end of this month you won't be able to see him as freely, each playful remark, each smile a silent plea for him to realize your feelings.

You tried to confess in small ways, complimenting him, subtle hints on reconnecting after graduation, but Kazuha seemed oblivious. Or maybe he just didn’t feel the same. The thought ate you alive, but there's only a few weeks left.. you cant back out!

" Are you going to the festival? "

Your friend asked, as you snapped out your thoughts and looked up at her. Nodding absentmindedly.

" Ah.. yeah. "

Your town had an annual festival, fireworks would be lit up, the whole town would be there and it would mark your last festival before you enter adulthood.

As the days continue passing by, You had gathered the courage to ask him to the festival, determined to make him yours by the end, this would be your final attempt..

Now.. it was the day of the festival.

The atmosphere was buzzing with excitement, lanterns glowing in the dusk, and the scent of street food filling the air. It was the perfect setting, almost like something out of a movie, the perfect setting to confess.

" Ah, this place is beautiful as ever.. " He complimented, looking around.

Kazuha walked beside you, seemingly carefree as always. Talking about his day, his poems.. you barely listened, heart racing thinking about what could happen tonight.

You guys took photos together, played games.. everything a couoke would do. You felt warm, really excited. Happy to be with him.

" The fireworks should start soon.. " You said, the fireworks starting soon also signifys your confession. You can do this. Your ready.

You both found a quiet spot away from the crowds, it was a secret spot you looked for weeks before the festival, just so you guys can have this moment. A high top that overlooked the town.

The countdown begun, the countdown..

5. the crowd started, as you started building up your courage..

" 4! " The townspeople screamed, your mind screaming at you to just do it already!

" 3! " No regrets this time. C'mon. Just say it.

Your eyes looked at him, face scrunching in determination.

" 2! " You can do this.

Before the final number, You stole a glance at Kazuha, his face illuminated by the flickering lights, his expression peaceful, a glint of excitement in his eyes at he stared at the sky expectedly.

Your heart pounded. This was it.

You opened your mouth, the words sitting heavy on the tip of your tongue. I love you.

Your hand trembled as you reached for his. The distance between your hands was so small, yet it felt like an ocean. But before you could close the gap, a wave of fear crashed over you.

What if telling him would change everything? What if he didn’t feel the same, and this comfortable space between you shattered? Every single moment from before up to now would be useless. No way, you can't handle that. You didn’t want to risk losing him, even if it meant never knowing.

You hesitated, fingers curling back into your palm. The words died in your throat, swallowed by the sound of the fireworks exploding in the distance.

Kazuha turned to you, smiling softly, completely unaware of the mental battle in your head,

You forced yourself to smile back, the ache in your chest growing.

The fireworks lighting up the sky and the people cheering in joy, it felt like the world was mocking you.

"Enjoying the fireworks?" he asked, his voice casual and soft, the same voice you wish you could forget right now.

You nodded, unable to trust yourself to speak, feeling something welling up in your eye, looking away from him.

The fireworks continued to light up the night sky, but you couldn’t bring yourself to watch them anymore, the moment was quiet. If maybe in different circumstances it would've been a romantic moment. But right now, you felt so far from him.

You had your chance and you let it slip away.

As the fireworks bloomed in the sky, casting their glow over the town, you felt the weight of the silence pressing harder against your chest. You’d practiced this moment in your head a hundred times, imagining the perfect scenario where you’d gather the courage to say the words.

Just 3 words.

But now, standing beside him, it felt impossible.

Kazuha leaned back, a soft smile, letting out a soft sigh. He seemed content, his eyes reflecting the colors above. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" he murmured, his voice low and content.

You nodded again, still unable to speak, eyes looking away. You couldn't bare to look up at the sky. The ache that had been simmering in your chest all month— maybe years, had finally turned into a dull, throbbing pain. How could you stand here, so close to him, and still feel so far away..

Isn't he supposed to be your safe person?

Another firework exploded in the distance, removing you from your thoughts, followed by a round of cheers from the people down below. The world seemed so full of life, moving together. But here, in this quiet corner with Kazuha, all you could feel was the passing of time slipping through your fingers and the fear of what's next.

You tried to focus on the present, on the warmth of the moment, but your mind kept spinning back to the what ifs.

But each question led to another knot in your stomach, each doubt pulling you further from the idea of confessing.

As the last burst of fireworks lit up the sky, Kazuha stood up, brushing the dust off his pants. He turned to you with a soft, gentle smile—the kind that made your heart flutter and ache at the same time, he pulled you up. The touch making you feel horrible and warm.

"Thanks for today," he said, his eyes crinkling at the corners. " I had a lot of fun. "

How could he just smile like that?

You managed a small smile in return, trying to ignore the tears threatening to spill over.

" Me too ."

For a moment, you stood there, staring at him, hoping maybe, just maybe.. he’d say something, say that he understands the feelings lingering between you. But he didn’t.

Instead, Kazuha gave a small wave, turning back toward the festival lights. "Let's head back. It's getting late."

As he walked ahead, your gaze followed him, the words you could never say caught in your throat. You had your chance, and you let it slip away. And now, all you could do was watch as the one person who meant the world to you disappeared into the crowd, the distance between you growing with every step, he was moving on. Just like everyone else.

He was going home and in the heat of moment you screamed at him from afar,

" Kazuha! The moon..! The moon is beautiful tonight!! "

You yelled, smiling at him with a pained look, a desperate look. Just maybe— Maybe!

He looks back at you, an unreadable expression on his face. He sighed before flashing a soft bittersweet smile and yelling back.

" I prefer the sunset. "

The tears you've been holding back all this time finally spilled, all your emotions hitting you. Sobs coming out as you looked down.

— And just like that, that marks the end of your crush on Kazuha, a crush that lasted from kindergarten to now, your eyes fixed on his figure that slowly got smaller the further he got.

A painful reminder that your no one special in his life, when in yours he was the most special one. You will fade into his memories, staying as someone in the past, never the present.

And so, you stayed there, standing alone under the empty sky, watching the flickering glow of the festival fade into the night. He was moving on, just like the sunset.

And maybe.. maybe it was time for you to do the same.

[unsaidthingsj2e]

Promise i don't forget all of my fault in this

Summary : After Jude broke your heart, he can't help but regret how he did it. Loosing his best friend of 10 years is not something he knows how to cope with

a/n : here is part 2 to this fic, probably not what you were expecting but i like it this way better!

english is still not my first language so if any sentence doesn't make sense or if typos are hiding in there, i apologize!! (+ this is even barely proofread sorry)

title is a lyrics from Best by Gracie Abrams

To the eye of anyone else, his life looked like a dream.

With his career predicted to continue its raising towards a legendary peak, a beautiful girl he genuinely was in love with at his side and a promise of everything going his way in life, it seemed like the equation was solved.

The thing is, it was solved, he found x, he had x but he also threw x away, thinking it wasn't necessary to his well-being.

The problem is, x was his ex-lover, ex-best friend, ex-childhood friend. When he made the decision to leave her behind, he thought he did the right thing.

Breaking her heart was the hardest thing he ever had to do, but he knew she wouldn't have survived seeing him with a new girl while still being in his life. He knew if given the option, she would've stayed at his side, as a best friend, a friend, an acquaintance. So in his mind, breaking her heart, leaving her with a lost soulmate was the best decision, for her.

He had not anticipated how much it would hurt him as well.

He spent the first week feeling unbelievably lighter. Lying to her, going out with his girl behind her back and cheating were not things he had enjoyed doing. He knew he had no right to be sad or even to complain about anything, being the one doing the cheating and not being cheated on.

He was certain if younger Jude could, he would find a way to travel in time and hunt current Jude down until the end of his days. She used to be so much more than an ex-lover.

Ever since primary school, she had been the only constant thing in his life. He had other friendships that he grew out of, he had girlfriends that wouldn't last enough time for him to even get attached, and he now had fans that would forget about him in a few months. But she was always there, and that's what made him think she was the perfect match for him.

He already loved her and they got along better than any other friends, he knew her inside out and still admired her, he already went through hell and back by her side. It made sense that what he was feeling was romantic love. And perhaps it was at first, or maybe it never was, he could not pinpoint the moment he realized he made a mistake and confused platonic feelings for romantic ones.

It's the fact that she realized so much faster than him that scared him, and that made the process happen so much faster. She managed to watch the light fade from his eyes before he could put a name on what was happening in his head when he looked at her. She noticed the nature of the blank stares he would be stuck in and deep down, she knew.

Tonight marks the third week since he broke her heart, and his guilt laced with longing is eating him alive. Because today was the 22nd of the month, day on which, every month without a miss, they would meet up one way or another to watch movies and gossip and catch up on lost time due to their busy schedules.

It had become a tradition since they were kids, Jude had to conceal football and school and ended up being able to spend less time with her. A June 22nd, she had voiced her worries of him forgetting her in the whole process, so he promised at least every month, she would get a night of his full undivided attention.

It was never just movies, some 22nd's were spent on her house's roof, stargazing while sharing terrifying thoughts about growing up, about feelings taking a meaning, others were spent driving around your hometown, signing along to their shared playlist.

But it always was on the 22nd. Twelve 22nd's a year, twelve nights to ensure their hearts were still each others.

Tonight's 22nd was the first one in eight years they weren't in each other's presence or on a videocall. On this 22nd, Jude decided he had to face his feelings. He was done hiding them and pretending this didn't affect him, he lost someone who was dear to him no matter who was to blame.

Coming home from practice, where his performance were mediocre at best, and ended in his coach voicing his worries about his mood and its affect on his stats lately, Jude was worn off.

Turning his keys in the door lock, his eyes fell down on the red phone cabin keychain he reluctantly kept after she forced him to. He had playfully refused to do so at first, claiming this was too much of a tourist thing to even just buy, let alone display on his keys. But she had argued that this would be a fond way to remember every place they had traveled to.

Not realizing he had been staring at the keys lost in thoughts for a few minutes, not making any moves to enter, a soft voice got him out of this haze.

"Jude, is that you?" He heard his girlfriend ask from the other side of the door, voice uncertain and fear audible

"Yes, yes it's me darling. Sorry about that I kinda zoned out", Jude rushed to explain while opening the door, noting how scary hearing the quiet sound of keys fumbling into the lock would've been from her point of view.

He stepped into his house, immediately face to face with his lover, whom he engulfed into a bone crushing hug almost as quickly.

"Today's the 22nd" he mumbled into her hoodie "It sucked, 'm feeling like shit and I did bad at practice"

One thing he made sure to do with any partner of his, was to make sure they both felt safe enough to share any thought, not wanting to hold the weight of any information by themselves. Therefore, he had told her everything about his feeling about his ex best friend, how much he missed her and everything about their moments ; including the 22nd tradition.

"Yeah, i figured you would- not do bad at practice, feel like shit i meant" she answered while playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, simultaneously rubbing comforting circles into his back.

"I just- it's so frustrating. I'm the one who broke things off, I got the fucking good side of things and here I am whining about it.", squeezing her body harder, Jude tried another way to convey the emotions that invaded every cell of his body, feeling like words aren't enough. Before he could continue, she interrupted his rant.

"Jude, hun, we talked about this. You did break things off but it was needed, even she could tell things weren't the same anymore. But she was your best friend, shit like that hurts even if it was the best option at the time", this conversation was held almost every day, he was convinced his feelings were not justified because of the way he handled the situation.

"Yeah, I know, my feelings are valid and all this bullshit, doesn't mean it doesn't feel unfair" he moved from the embrace to take his shoes off, focusing on the task to avoid his lover's eyes "I mean, I miss her so much and it's so selfish considering she's probably in her head overthinking the authenticity of every moment we ever spent together, I'm literally a piece of shit". His shoe laces weren't cooperating, seemingly in sync with his conflicting emotions. With a groan, he gave up, throwing himself on the floor with his back on the door, his head resting on it, looking up the ceiling.

She gently crouched down next to him, rubbing his thigh in hopes to calm him down with the soothing movement. "I won't lie and say she's thriving right now, because let's face the truth, it definitely destroyed her-", at this statement, Jude banged his head on the door, "-but. But it was a shitty situation that needed to be dealt with in a shitty way. You missing her is not you being selfish, get that out of your pretty head."

Now on her knees beside him, she brought her other hand on his cheek, nudging him to make eye contact with her. Her gaze was full of empathy for his internal struggle, understanding his part, but also seeing hers. "Did you-" she stopped for a second when he finally looked back at her, eyes glossy, "Did you think about reaching out to talk to her? I'm aware you don't want to do it because you're scared she'd come back and end up hurting more. But. If not for you, do it for her? You haven't seen her since you broke things off, and she didn't even get the chance to talk, she probably is dying to find closure in a way"

"You're probably right, she deserves it. I'm just not even sure she'd want to meet up though. I wouldn't want to see someone who is as much of a dickhead as I am. Good motives or not, I did this badly." Jude did not lack self awareness concerning this situation. It's because he knows her so well that he knew the words he used would wound her deeply, although unintentionally.

Voice barely above a whisper, he shamefully admits, "Sometimes, I don't even want her to get closure. God that sounds so bad but. I don't want her to forget about me, about us. 10 years of friendship is a fucking long time, I don't want her to wipe this off her memory because I was an asshole"

Not even bothering to correct him, and uselessly try to convince him he isn't an asshole, she instead continued, "Please, talk to her, she probably doesn't want 10 years worth of memory to be tainted by this ugly night. And it's been due, for both of your sake." She felt helpless in front of her boyfriend's misery, and would do anything to help it be less intense and all consuming. "Don't let her spend her first 22nd in eight years all alone, thinking you hate her", slowly detangling his shoe lace and tying it back the right way, she moved to kiss his forehead. "Be patient and let her time to voice her thoughts, yeah?"

He stood up, and took his time to take the woman in front of him in, he felt incredibly lucky this exact second. Any other woman would be fuming with jealousy at the thought of their man going to see their ex-girlfriend that they've known for half their life. He hated to think that getting her had to come with losing his best friend. "Okay, yeah, okay i'm going then. I appreciate you so much for this, thank you for understanding."

a/n : you guys : "part 2 w reader living her best life n Jude wanting her back!!"

me : "how about no?" i actually wrote about 6 different start to this but it always felt off, knowing how brutally Jude left reader?

[ateriblewriter]

Four Letter Words (t.z)

an: i know it switches pov and probably persons for a section there. i did a little ~~ so you can tell. it’s rough. sorry

Warnings: bad words. more bad words. alcohol. copious amounts of it.

Enjoy!

He took a sip of the harsh liquor, letting it burn the back of his throat. Despite the gross taste it felt good. Tonight was the one night that he was going to allow himself to dwell in the fact he felt like he was an utter failure at hockey. He was planning on drinking himself stupid in the presence of strangers and possibly do something crazy he would regret in the morning.

“What are you doing here all by yourself?” A warm and familiar voice sang out behind him.  He knew whose voice it was, but Trevor couldn’t will himself to face her. “God you reek. Just how much have you had to drink?”

“Go away.” He downed the last of the current drink he held in his hand. Trevor quickly motioned the older man behind the bar counter to bring him a couple more of the beverages he had been served. He was already sloshed, what was a couple more drinks?

“I'm not going away until you answer me.” The beautiful lady attempted to take the drink away from him, only to slap her hand away. She sighed in defeat, there was no way to pry the drink from his hand.

“No of your business.” He mumbled taking another sip of his drink. He wasn't inebriated enough to share anything with the person to his right. He knew he could trust her, after all she was one of his roommates but he didn’t want to. “Now scurry off Y/N. Find someone else to bother.” He made a motion with his hand to shoo her away.

“I’m not going anywhere, Trev.” She sat down on the barstool next to him. She wasn’t going to leave him alone. Ever since that day Jamie introduced them and subsequently asked her to move in with them since they had space, Trevor felt a special connection to her. Something maybe more than just roomies. Then he got too comfortable, she became too much of a distraction for him and he started failing at the one thing his world actually revolved around. “Have you eaten anything tonight?”

“No. Not hungry.” He couldn’t look at her stupidly beautiful face. Fuck. Why did his career falling apart have to be her fault. It wasn’t fair.

“Well you should. Especially if you keep drinking. And maybe drink a glass of water, you’ll thank me in the morning.” He noticed that you had finished off another drink and was in the process of getting another.

“You’re not my mother. You can’t tell me what to do.” Trevor thrusted his almost overfilled drink at her, spilling over half of it on her. A smile made its way to his face, thinking himself funny.

Y/N never left his side the whole night. Despite his attempts to get her to go far away from him, Y/N wasn’t about to leave him alone with his own pities. Deep down somewhere Trevor was kind of thankful, but that wasn’t something he was going to remember anytime soon.

Around two o’clock in the morning it was announced that the place was closed and that he needed to leave. Trevor got up to leave stumbling unable to hold himself upright for more than thirty seconds, something that felt like an eternity for him.

“Trevor, lean on me.” That voice popped up again as an arm snaked its way around his torso, helping him to an upright position. This person was beckoning towards the front of the establishment and out the door.

The chill of the early morning hit him, making him fall into the road in front of him. He stayed there for a moment staring at the bright lights heading towards him. A strong hand wrapped around his arm pulling him out of the way just in time.

“Can you manage to not get hurt? Your millions of fans would never forgive me if I let you get hurt.” The arm was back holding him upright again, taking him somewhere into the dark unknown.

Trevor couldn’t remember who was with him. Pushing his head up he looked at the face of the person who was handling him. The hair was familiar. They’re Y/E/C eyes looked like something he could get lost in. And those lips looked like they held back a beautiful voice.

Fuckity Fuck.

Y/N.

Why her?

Y/N was with him. When did she get there. He doesn't remember. Had she been with him all evening? God that woman made him so angry sometimes.

~~~

“Where are you taking me?” He spat at you, trying to remove himself from your embrace.

“I’m taking you home. You need to sleep this off before your morning skate.” Your grip became slightly tighter around his arm as you felt him struggling to try and get away from you.

“No.” Trevor managed to unglue himself from his grasp after several attempts. “Leave me alone Y/N. I hate you.”

“No you don’t. I’m the only one here for you right now.” You could hear the hostility creeping into the hockey player’s voice, in all this time that you knew Trevor you had never heard this side of him.

“I hate you so much Y/N Y/L/N.” You stopped walking to listen to him. “I hate everything about you. You are so annoying. You never leave, you are always there! I don’t get why Jamie thinks you're so great. Plus ever since you got here my games been tanking, nothing goes in, I keep over passing, fighting and getting my ass handed to me.” Trevor was getting really passionate about letting you know how he really felt. “It’s all your fault! You never stop distracting me. God. I despise you. I loathe you. I HATE YOU.”

Your heart fell and you felt tears starting to prickle in the corners of your eyes. Were you really affecting him that badly? You didn’t like the fact that he thought it was your fault. Maybe you should consider finding a place of your own instead of rooming with them. In fact when you dropped him off at his home, maybe you leave then, pack a bag of essentials and take off for the night. You were already coming up with excuses to give Jamie as to why the housing situation wasn’t working out, because Trevor was making it very clear right now just how much he disliked you. Why did he even agree to you taking the spare room if he felt this way?

All those thoughts come to a defining halt when you feel yourself getting pushed and hitting the hard pavement. It wasn’t a hard fall, only sustaining slight injuries to your knees and the palms of your hands. Nothing you couldn’t brush off.

“Fucking bitch.” Trevor murmured to himself, just loud enough for you to hear, seeing you on all fours. He stepped around you, not caring at the moment. He just wanted to get away from the person he had strong four letter word feelings for.

“Come on Z. I need to get you home.” Getting back up, you rushed to catch up to Trevor, he was taller, faster, and very drunk so it took a hot minute. His words hurt, you knew he probably didn’t mean them and he most likely wouldn’t remember anything from that night. It was there that you figured out that you could never stop caring about your now former roommate no matter what he said to you.

“He’s yours now. I’m done.” You helped Jamie with Trevor once you managed to get him home and into his room. You explained to Jamie what had happened outside the bar, telling him what the sleeping intoxicated man said and showing him the scrapes and bruises you sustained from falling.

“I’m sorry J. You’re one of my best friends, but I can’t be here with him anymore.” Thank god, he understood why you needed to leave and respected your wishes.

~~~~

The next morning Trevor didn’t wake up to one of his various alarms that had been mysteriously set for him. Instead he woke up to a killer hangover and Jamie standing over him shooting him angrily with one of the various nerf guns stashed around the house, this one just happened to be filled with water.

“What the fuck man.” He managed to swat the device away once all the water had been drained from the device. The water may have stopped but the staredown wasn’t going away anytime soon.

“Y/N is gone. She told me what you said and called her. And in her own words said it was in everyone’s best interests if she found somewhere else to live.”

Trevor rarely saw this side of Jamie. It kind of scared him. But he swore up and down that he would never say those things to her. Sure he was feeling distracted as of late. But it wasn’t because of her. No. He could never really hate her, it was four completely different letters that were the real root of his distraction.

“I was drunk. I’m sorry, I don’t remember any of that.” He balled his hand into a fist, hitting himself hard enough in the leg to leave a bruise, a move he often made when he was mad at himself for something he did.

“You better fix this. I am not losing another friend because of you.” Trevor could feel the sharp pointy daggers Jamie was throwing his way. He vowed to do anything to get Y/N to come home so he could let her know how he really felt. Because love is a better four letter word than hate.

Please let me know what y’all think! Any thoughts, comments, or complaints! 

[polarisgreenley]

Hogwarts Legacy x D&D - Character Sheets

As someone who is steadily becoming a dice gremlin and habitual note-taker for D&D, I wondered what each of the Hogwarts Legacy characters would be in the D&D fantasy realm.

What fantasy race and class could they be? Subclasses? What are their highest stats, which ones are then dumped? Why did they join the adventuring party? Where and how would you, an adventurer yourself, meet them? Et cetera et cetera.

First up, our resident charming, clever Slytherin... Sebastian Sallow.

For Sebastian, he wouldn’t be completely satisfied if he went full-on into one class, so he would be dual-classing his life. He would see the advantages of dipping one’s toes in more than one thing. Sure, it would take slightly longer to reap the full benefits, but it’ll be worth it.

Race: Half-Elf

Class & Subclass:

Rogue – Swashbuckler

Both Sebastian and Anne have the basic rogue class in common. 

Quick feet, agile and nimble, and able to sneak into places where they shouldn’t be. Their parents were the scholarly types, so they would have to entertain themselves a lot, and one of them was learning little tricks. Sebastian’s first trick was to take a silver coin, make it ‘disappear’ and have it ‘reappear’ behind Anne’s ear. She’d been so overjoyed he started learning more, ergo the roguish start.

The swashbuckler subclass is known for the flashy, showy, bombastic adventuring type (think Captain Jack Sparrow or Robin Hood). He’d gone into fencing and sword-fighting in his youth as an outlet to escape his uncle’s thumb, as well as to learn how to protect Anne after their parents’ death. He knows the footwork like a charm in addition to knowing where to hit where it hurts, and easily could beat out the kids his age.

Over the years, he would train with travelers that happened to be in town, troops that would stay the night, and continually improve. He was also one of the main defenders of their village from anyone who would try to invade their homes.

2. Warlock – Hexblade (pact formed after Anne was cursed)

The term ‘warlock’ gets boxed into the ‘oh, pact with evil demon’ box much too frequently.

According to the D&D Player’s Handbook,

“… many warlocks serve patrons that are not fiendish. Sometimes a traveler in the wilds comes to a strangely beautiful tower, meets its fey lord or lady, and stumbles into a pact without being fully aware of it.”

“Warlocks are driven by an insatiable need for knowledge and power, which compels them into their pacts and shapes their lives. This thirst drives warlocks into their pacts and shapes their later careers as well.”

After Anne was cursed by some unknown origin, Sebastian sought something, anything to lift said curse. One day he searched out into the ruins, further than he’d ever gone before. There, he found a small, silver pendant with a strange spiral symbol and an empty black frame. The moment he picked it up, a woman’s voice came in amidst a dream-like state. She spoke of how she felt his sorrow and the desperation to help his sister. How she understood, because she was once in the same position as he was. He asked her name; she referred to herself as Morganach.

Sebastian entered a pact with Morganach. In exchange for her power so that he can venture beyond the current borders to search for the cure, she had requested that should he be able to land the exacting final blow to any enemies, to use ‘her’ blade so as their sorrows can be alleviated in their final moments of life.

Highest Stat: Charisma 

He has charm oozing out of him; everyone finds him either charming, or affable or relatable in some way. He understands the “How to say X to achieve Y.” He knows exactly who to talk to and how to talk to them, both with people in good standing with society as well as those in the seedy parts of town.

Need information from the quiet guy in the back that looks like he could break you like a toothpick? Give him five minutes and he’ll get his life story for you. Need to sneak into an invitation only upper echelon party for some intel? He knows the organizer and can get them on the list.

But if that fails, he has ten lockpick sets. And a couple bottles of alcohol. You know, backup plans.

Second & Third Stat: Dexterity & Intelligence

Second highest is dexterity; he knows how to fight smart. He can dodge, parry, and do some fancy footwork so that his opponents always miss him.

He fights smart, and knows where and how to position himself in a fight to make it the most advantageous for him and exert the least amount of energy doing so. In fact, he doesn’t need anyone close to back him up in a fight; he prefers the one-on-one battles close up. Makes for better stories that way, though would appreciate a nice spell thrown in for assistance.

(Note: Dexterity does not equal constitution.)

Third is intelligence, which for the classes would not be the ‘best’ stat, but in-line with his background. He’s the one laying down the plans, where the traps are, who to talk to so the operation runs smooth. Or if it doesn’t, there’s at least three half-plans to fall back onto.

Dump stat: Wisdom

His wisdom isn’t bad, per say. He is aware of his surroundings well enough that most of the time, it isn’t much of an issue. Sure, sometimes he’ll miss someone slip out of the room until Anne or Ominis has to inform him, but that was only sometimes.

He can usually tell if someone’s lying, he’s read enough books on body language. But sometimes he just misses their intentions, you know? Sometimes he’ll say something slightly off to what they were intending, and would need to muster up his quick thinking and charm to cover his slip-up.  

Background:

Sebastian and Anne lived with their parents, who were professors at the nearest university, until they were aged seven. Upon their parents’ passing under mysterious circumstances, they were sent to live with their uncle in a village a few hours away. They remained there until they were old enough and decided to go back to the city they’d originally lived in.

He and Anne started a private investigator agency together in the city to make use of their skillsets. It all started when they uncovered the long-term mystery of how their parents had passed away under mysterious circumstances and upended the criminal organization responsible.

They don’t have any employees, though Ominis joined their agency as a partner. They took on cases anywhere from infiltration, gathering information, and rescuing stray cats.  

After Anne was cursed, their agency’s activities were placed on indefinite hiatus as she moved back in with their uncle, their only living relative, as living by herself had become difficult, and the herbs that stave off some of the curse’s effects are grown in abundance near the village they grew up in.

Sebastian and Solomon do not have the best relationship, but have a base understanding that they both care about Anne.

Notable Equipment:

Armor: Medium leather armor, good pair of leather gloves and boots. Nothing particularly fancy unless the occasion calls for it.

Weapons: Dual-Wielding, both rapiers. Does have a set of throwing daggers tucked away in his boots.

Main Hand: “Silver Tongue”. +1 AC and +1 Hit DC. Has a beautiful silver blade with a comforting green glow, and the handle is emerald green. A present from both Anne and Ominis after their one year-anniversary of starting their investigator agency.

Offhand: Pact Weapon “Sorrow Song.” On a critical hit, the damage dealt would automatically be dealt again to the next target as necrotic damage. Created when the pact was made with Morganach. Has a silver blade with a black handle. When the blade is used as the final blow, the blade hums in arcane energy, and the handle, momentarily, turns red. Those who receive the final blow with this blade will have milky white eyes.

Silver pendant: A strange, silver pendant with a spiral design. When his patron needs to talk to him, or he needs to talk to her, he grips onto said pendant. After Sorrow Song claims a life, it vaguely hums in arcane energy but quickly dissipates.

His reasons to join adventuring party

To search for a cure for his sister.

To help main adventurer on their quest.

To figure out who this ‘Morganach’ is.

First meeting where?

This could go a few ways, but you will always meet him in the first town you visit. The most likely meeting would be from your visit to the local tavern, wherein Sebastian would be there chatting away with the bartender like they had been friends for years, when really, they had only just met fifteen minutes ago.  

Favorite Fighting Tactic

Cast Darkness – don’t worry, he has Devil’s Sight evocation. Darkness is not a problem! (within 120 feet, of course)

Hexblade’s Curse; X marks the spot!

Sneak up right next to the target. What’s the likelihood that they can see, right?

Stabbeth and slasheth where it hurts the most. (Sneak attack) Not down yet? Well, he has two rapiers for a reason.

Oh they can see him? That’s fine, he’ll dodge them. That’s when the fun starts.

But when he feels tired and just doesn’t want to get up close? Eldritch blast, Confringo flavor.

[crybabysunflower]

Characters from different universe who would be best friends if they meet

Introduction

On Twitter there is a trend going on currently where people are posting pictures of characters from different animes, games, movies and other franchises who would have been best friends if their worlds meet or if one of them existed in the other one's world.

Being into both Tokyo Revengers which is the current anime I've been somewhat into and of course Mystic Messenger I realised that Matsuno Chifuyu from Tokyo Revengers and Kim Yoosung from Mystic Messenger would have been absolute best friends if they ever met.

Their similarities (according to me)

As someone who likes to see patterns and similarities. I have an opinion, I could not help but realise that Chifuyu is very very similar to Yoosung. Infact according to me Chifuyu is like, if Yoosung was more assertive, aggressive and could kick ass.

One of the most prominent similarity I see in them (besides the fact that they are blondes) is that both Chifuyu and Yoosung are fiercely loyal to the people they value the most, and often to the point that they both are willing to put their own lives at risk, such as Yoosung in his Good Ending, Normal Ending and Bad Ending 3 and Chifuyu in the post Vallaha arc and also when he volunteered to be beaten up by Baji in front of Vallaha before the Bloody Halloween fight.

One of the prominent aspect of their stories is that they have faced the loss of a loved one they admired the most. In Chifuyu's case its Baji and in Yoosung's case its Rika (i know Rika isnt actually dead but he had believed Rika had died for a long while. Also by the end of the manga Baji gets revived as well). The respective loved ones mentioned here also happen to have inspired them and had made them a better person as well.

Note:- I'm not sure how much true it is but many Tokyo Revengers fans had theorised that Chifuyu dyed his hair black because of Baji which reminds me of the theory of Yoosung dyeing his hair blonde possibly because of Rika.

They both eventually choose animal related careers in future. Chifuyu in future timeline becomes a pet store owner and Yoosung on the other hand becomes a vet. Besides that, they also share another similar interest. Both Chifuyu and Yoosung are canonically Shoujo manga enthusiasts.

Most importantly, they both are cheerful individuals with sunshine-y energy who strongly stand up for what they believe in and sometimes pretty openly angry at people whom they believe to have hurt their loved ones (or obviously actually had in Chifuyu's case). Both Chifuyu and Yoosung openly despised Kisaki and Jihyun because of this.

Going back to the loyalty point. Because of their loving and loyal personality, sometimes they can be very defensive about the persons they care the most about. When during Vallaha arc Chifuyu refused to see Baji as a "bad person" when Baji was pushing Chifuyu away to handle things on his own, it reminded me of the part in Seven route where Yoosung refused to see Seven as a "bad guy" when Seven was pushing him away.

What if they meet?

So I have imagined a couple of scenarios involving both Chifuyu and Yoosung together. Not only they have similar behaviour but also have similar interests. Now these are just a byproduct of my brainrot and mainly headcannons

I imagined that, in the early years of his life Yoosung's family lived in Japan for a while and he attended the same school as Chifuyu. He obviously is much younger than Chifuyu (since Chifuyu was born in 1991 and Yoosung was born somewhere in mid to late 90s most likely in 1996 in canon). Chifuyu happens to be this kind and friendly senior who protected him from bullies multiple times and thats how they form a bond. It is not limited to Chifuyu simply protecting him from bullies, whenever they met they often rambled about their favourite Shoujo mangas (thinking of both of them spending hours talking about Fruits Basket...so cute). Eventually they end up parting away because Yoosung's family goes back to Korea but the two boys still keep in touch with each other through letters and eventually through social media. They reunite later in the year 2017 (and it is the final timeline taking place so everything is comparitively fine).

In the final timeline, Baji happens to prepare hard to get into a veterinary school but ends up failing multiple times. I can imagine Chifuyu introducing Yoosung to Baji since Yoosung is in the same line (I have also assumed it is taking place after the Good Ending so yes Yoosung is seriously studying here).

Baji being the independent person he is was initially hesitant but agreed to be helped and so after that Baji, Chifuyu and Yoosung from the other side of the computer spent multiple sleepness nights, emptying multiple cans of Monster drink to help Baji prepare for his entrance. Chifuyu is there to act as the translator for the future vets studying together.

Finally the day of exam arrives and this time Baji succeeds and gets to study for his dream job.

After this I imagine one day Yoosung goes to japan with Seven (because he isnt fluent in japanese and does not want to go alone) and both Bajifuyu came to pick him up. As soon as Baji sees him Baji runs to him and hugs him tightly, thanking the younger blonde man for his help. I also imagine Yoosung telling Baji to also give some credits to Seven as well because Seven helped him out to explain Baji in a better way.

My note

Its been a really long while since I had made a proper post on any anime or mystic messenger so I am feeling good to get back into it. I also plan to write more blogposts about anime and mystic messenger in future. I really miss the times when I used to make alot of posts (i.e. in 2020) and I wish to get back to that time.

I initially wanted to only post about how I find Chifuyu and Yoosung similar since I love Tokyo Revengers and Mystic Messenger. However after seeing the trend on twitter I decided to post my brainrot scenarios here as well.

[gareleia]

Had Worse

Chapter: 2/6

Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood

Word count: 3403

Relationships: Edward Elric & Vato Falman & Team Mustang.

Tags: 5+1 Things, Pre-Canon, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Blood, Edward Elric Has Issues, Depressed Vato Falman, Language.

Summary: Where the fuck did the Colonel find this kid?

OR

5 times Edward said 'I've had worse' and horrified his poor innocent coworkers with his Tragic Backstory and 1 time he wasn't able to (to everyone's relief)

Read on AO3

It was unanimously agreed that out of everyone on the Mustang's unit Warrant Officer Vato Falman had the highest pain tolerance.

It was ironic, considering the fact that the man had been happily serving in intelligence for most of his career and was promptly put on desk duty upon joining the team. One would think that with First Lieutenant Havoc's habit of getting shot at at least once a month (if not on a mission then by a very pissed off relative of his current girlfriend-of-the-week) or with Colonel Roy Mustang's tendency to get in trouble on rainy days, the statistic would be different.

Appearances, however, were often deceiving. It was a very little known fact, but Falman was always in some kind of pain. A condition that had been passed onto him by his great-grandmother, relatively harmless if severely impairing his quality of life. It only really began to set in after he turned thirty and was well into his military career. The doctors' only advice was to suck it up, do his stretches and accept that his body was past its prime and would never again reach the same level of performance.

The combination of bad genes, steadily declining health and stress of both his wife and superior officers breathing down his neck took it's toll on Vato. At forty years old he already felt sixty, exhausted and hopeless, his bones and muscles burning for no good reason and his hair graying rapidly. It was quite possible the worst time of his life, and in his darkest moments he had to take a look at himself and wonder if anything he'd ever done was worth it.

Was that the end? Decades of sacrifices, dedication and hard work, all for nothing? So much time wasted holding onto his failing marriage, grasping at straws to advance his career, and that was all he got? Had he made all the wrong choices, every mistake imaginable, to end up alone and constantly in pain? Or was he simply unlucky, a victim of circumstance, and none of his suffering and struggles had any meaning?

What was the point of it all?

Lieutenant Colonel Roy Mustang, the Flame Alchemist, had quite possibly saved Falman's life. Many things could be said about the man, concerning both his personality and work ethic, but it took one passing conversation after Major Hughes introduced them for him to offer Vato a position in his team.

Vato had nothing but his pain, no goals, no close friends, even his children were away and better off without him. He had nothing left to lose, so when the man with ash in his footsteps and inferno in his eyes reached out with his bloodied hand, Falman took it. And never looked back.

Damn the consequences. If he was destined to burn anyway, he could at least do it for a cause.

And burn he did. His body and his soul. With pain and passion, in all imaginable ways but the literal one (except that one time on stakeout that Second Lieutenant Havoc still owed him for). Because he had nothing left to lose but everything to gain, and he knew that no matter what his team would be there to breathe life into his charred remains.

It was baffling, sometimes, how readily he would die for each and every one of his comrades. But, then again, he knew that all of them would gladly do the same for him. Vato knew family - had had a family once, before his illness made him a husk of a man his wife couldn't bear to live with. His whole life he wanted nothing more than to matter, to belong. And now he finally did.

Colonel Mustang's unit was tight-knit and they all helped each other. Falman had never been good with words and he preferred to work with data instead of people for a reason, but he soon found that with his people words didn't mean much in the first place. Instead, he simply did his best to take care of his friends and they never failed to do the same.

For instance, the rainy day flare-ups. Logically Vato knew that in Central it on average rained 139 days of the year, which was a relatively small number. Measly 38% of his life was affected by changes in barometric pressure. Nothing to cry about, especially considering that he wasn't even going out in the field a lot these days.

He'd been determined not to mention anything about it to his colleagues, but as always, there wasn't any need. Upon arriving in the office (precisely on time, even if he had to get up early to make up for his body fighting him at every turn) Falman had found a fresh cup of coffee and a bottle of aspirin, courtesy of Master Sergeant Fuery. Vato had never had the heart to tell the young man that aspirin couldn't help this kind of pain. The sentiment was still sweet and the seeing Kain's earnest face lit up at Falman's grateful nod warmed his heart.

During the day Vato did his best to carry out his duties as usual. It was a slow process as the burning in his joints was greatly affecting his ability to concentrate on papers he was filing. He knew for sure it must have been obvious with how often he paused to stretch a little, or how he tried to inconspicuously massage his back, or even just by the way his share of paperwork was taking twice as long to get done. Still, First Lieutenant Hawkeye, always eager to improve the team's performance with liberal use of firearms, said nothing of him not meeting her standards.

Even Second Lieutenant Havoc made a considerable effort not to smoke in his presence, knowing full well how the smell affected his budding headache.

"Falman," Second Lieutenant Breda called, breaking his already fragile focus. "We're going out to have lunch. Will you join us?"

Vato bit his lip and looked forlornly at the sheets of paper on his desk.

"No. I'm not particularly hungry, and I'd rather catch up on my workload. I'm already behind as it is."

"Nobody would blame you if you took it easy for once, you know? You're already the second most effective person in this office, between you and Hawkeye you should live some work for the rest of us!"

Breda chuckled and Falman cracked up a smile in return, but still shook his head. They all had their duties, like cogs in the machine, and he'd be damned before he let it come to a halt because of one faulty piece.

"Alright," sighed the Second Lieutenant. "But we're grabbing you a sandwich at least, my treat." And left before Vato could refuse.

What a team to end up on. He really was lucky, wasn't he?

He's only ten minutes into the lunch, however, when the peace and quiet came to an abrupt end with a steel-toed boot almost kicking the door off the hinges.

"'Sup, guys!" came a cheerful, loud, yell as their newest recruit waltzed in started looking around in confusion. "Where's everyone?"

"Major Elric," Vato saluted stiffly, lips pinched in poorly disguised disapproval. "This is lunchtime, I'd imagine our colleagues are having lunch in the cafeteria. Isn't today your day off?"

It was. It was Fullmetal's day off and shouldn't have been here, loudly, out of uniform (again) breaking things (again) ignoring regulations (AGAIN)... At least he didn't bring his brother this time. Small mercies.

"Shit, man, would you stop it with the ranks? I'm Ed. Just call me 'Ed'. Or 'Edward' if you're so formal. Live a little!"

Why was it suddenly his turn for babysitting duty? Vato couldn't even look after his own kids, and especially not on a rainy day like this. But how was he supposed to politely say 'Go away, boy, I'm in too much pain to deal with you today'?

"It's against regulations, Sir." Vato shrugged despite his muscles' furious protests. "Did you need something?"

It wasn't that he disliked Edward Elric particularly. He was loud and annoying and more than a handful, if their first few weeks of serving together were anything to go by, but at his age it was nothing terribly unusual.

"Yeah, look, do we have a med kit here or something?"

Edward Elric was a child, even when he desperately tried to appear a grown up. And Falman... Falman hadn't had the best experience with children. In fact, in his own humble opinion, he should've been kept away from kids, at all times.

Fullmetal was now a part of the team, and their team took care of each other. The only way Vato could take care of the boy was if he stayed as far away from him as possible. Because, given his track record - he'd fuck the kid up.

"The right cabinet, second shelf from the top." He hesitated. "Do you... Do you need help reaching it?"

"WHO ARE CALLING SO SMALL HE HAS TO CLIMB FOR HOURS JUST TO REACH THE TOP SHELF?!"

Vato recoiled at the outburst and closed his eyes for a moment in an effort to make the headache slightly more bearable. The boy continued mumbling under his breath about his 'completely average' size and then let out a suspiciously quiet swear. Falman briefly debated pretending not to notice, but he could see the kid's legs shaking with the effort as he  stood on his very tiptoes, gripping the open door for support.

"I could-"

"Shut it!" Elric barked. "I can do it myself!"

Vato sighed again and, for better or for worse, got up from his desk. As quickly as his tortured body let him he came over to the cabinet and took out the case.

"There's nothing wrong with accepting help sometimes." He insisted, echoing the words usually directed at him. "Everyone needs help. No one thinks less of you for that."

Fullmetal said nothing as he grabbed the med kit out of Falman's hands, face so red it almost matched his coat.

And then he stopped. Looked up at Vato, cheeks still alight with embarrassment but his gaze uncomfortably serious. He stared the man down, piercing, cutting him into tiny little boxes and sorting everything inside. Tearing his soul out and weighting it against a feather, with the same burning intensity Lieutenant Colonel Mustang once upon a time directed at him.

The Flame Alchemist looked into his eyes and saw someone worth saving, someone worth trusting. What would Fullmetal see?

"Alright then." Edward nodded to himself and shoved the kit back into Falman's numb hands. "Since you're offering, I could use a hand."

The boy snickered as if he'd made a joke and strode confidently into the Colonel's vacant office.

"Colonel Mustang is also having lunch," He called out, following the kid. "You may wait for him outside."

"Nah," He shrugged, unconcerned. "I figured the Bastard would be slacking off. But if I'm gonna bleed, I'm doing it on his couch, because fuck him."

"Bleed?!" Oh god, please let the child just be dramatic, just for the sake of his own dwindling sanity. "If you're injured I can walk you to the infirmary."

"Nah," Elric shrugged again and threw himself on the couch, taking great care to put his muddied boots on an armrest and ignore Vato clearly dying at the sight. "It's just a scratch. I'd take care of it myself, but I'm right-handed and I don't trust my left to do the job."

With that he pulled up his coat to reveal his right leg. Right leg, in the tight leather pants so clearly against the regulations. Right leg in platform boots covered in mud, rainwater and god knows what else.

Right leg.

With a knife sticking out of it.

"So?" Edward asked impatiently. "Come on, you said you wanted to help, and I don't have all day."

This. This wasn't happening. There was no way.

"Is this a prank?" He managed, faintly, staring at the blood soaking through his pants, through that damn red coat and into the Colonel's prized 'comfy' couch.

"What? No! What the hell, do you think I'd come into this shithole on my day off for a prank? It was closer than the dorms and I didn't want Al to freak out over nothing."

Well, now Vato was freaking out.

"This isn't nothing! You've been stabbed! You need a doctor!"

"No!" The boy sounded annoyed. Petulant. Like he was declining broccoli instead of urgently needed medical care. This couldn't be real. "I told you, it's a scratch. That knife's, like, two inches tops, and it's not even all the way in. I'd pull it out immediately, but I figured I might need a stitch or two so I walked here."

"How did you even walk?!"

"Well. Carefully. Duh. Didn't want to jolt it too much just in case it nicks an artery or some shit. That'd be a pain to deal with."

He snickers again as he starts rummaging through the case, picking up bandages and rubbing alcohol.

"This is bullshit, you guys call this a 'med kit'? You don't even have needles! How do you live like that?"

"If the would is deep enough to require stitches the protocol suggests getting medical staff involved. Come on, let me carry you-"

"Hands off, old man!" The kid yelled and jerked away. "Look, if you're not gonna help, you can just go. I'll deal with it myself, like I always do."

"How often does this happen?!"

"You know, sometimes." Edward shifted uncomfortably. "So what'll it be? 'M not getting any younger."

He stared. He thought. He analyzed. This was his strong suit, his one redeeming quality. His brain was wired for creating and utilizing statistics, rules, solutions. He looked at problems and he dealt with them, one step at a time.

Now, he wondered, what would the first step be? If he left to call for help, Fullmetal would undoubtedly run. And if he tried to use the phone or carry the child to safety... That wouldn't be a fight he could win. Not in his current condition.

Vato let out a loud, deep, miserable sigh and pinched his nose.

"You'll need to pull your pants down. And I'm not much of a nurse. All of us have a first aid training, but I never had to stitch a wound before."

"That's fine. It's not much harder than sewing clothes, you'll just need to use more force. And I grew up with surgeons, I know how it's done and I'll walk you through it. All I need from you are your steady hands."

Steady hands. That he could manage.

(And by god, he did. He had no choice, not with a child at his mercy. The team looks out for each other. A father looks after a son. Even someone else's.

And wasn't that his greatest regret in the first place? That he stood by and did nothing for his own kids? He wallowed in his misery and left them long before they left him and he'd never earn forgiveness.

But he was burning anyway, his body and his soul, and he'd let them both turn to ash before he made the same mistake again.

Never again.)

In the end it didn't even take much time. Or maybe Vato was just so focused on not fucking up the kid that hours had passed by unnoticed in his single-minded determination.

"Yeah, I think that's it." Fullmetal said finally and the man sinked onto the floor. "Thanks a ton, Falman, I owe you one."

"You're welcome," he responded, feeling faint from both the nervous tension and the absolute agony his back rewarded him with for crouching on his knees for half an hour. "But I'm never, never, ever doing it again."

Edward laughed.

"It's okay, you did great for a beginner. It'll still leave a scar, but I have too much of those to give a fuck anymore."

He then proceeded to move his hip experimentally, as if testing how much force it would take for the stitches tear.

"Doesn't that hurt?"

The words slipped out before Vato could stop himself. The boy refused to take anything from the meager selection of over-the-counter painkillers and haven't flinched once during the so-called 'procedure', but now that he thought about it more, it was a very, very bad sign. The alchemist must've been going into shock.

"Eh, not particularly. I've had worse. Much worse." He had a faraway look on his face, and Falman wondered briefly if Fullmetal was having a flashback, but then his mouth opened in a silent 'oh' and finally settled into a horrible, knowing grin. "Ah, I see. The Bastard hasn't told you, has he? Just like that dick to keep all information for himself."

"What do you mean?"

Falman didn't believe in intuition, he believed in experience. And his was telling him that he wouldn't like where this was going.

"Look!" The boy put his left leg up in as perfect a split as he could manage while sitting with a freshly stitched hip and let the gravity work it's magic. "I've got metal leg!"

Vato choked.

The leather pants pulled up just enough to reveal steel where flesh should have been. Automail.

Elric cheerfully continued.

"Goes just above the knee! Also, my right arm all up to the shoulder. Which is why I couldn't stitch myself. I'm right-handed, but I couldn't risk breaking the needle, and doing it with a non-dominant hand is just asking for trouble."

Vato stared.

"But... It's raining..." What a useless thing to focus on. "How did you even walk? I have a cousin with automail, on rainy days he can't even get out of bed!"

He half expected the boy to scoff and say something along the lines of: "Well, your cousin is a pussy, and I'm cool as shit!" Instead he saw the child's grin dim into a grimace.

"Well, that's not unusual. Everyone deals with it differently. My pain tolerance was fucked up even before the surgery, so, really, I've kinda always been a freak."

And once again Falman couldn't stop his tongue from moving, but, just this once, he didn't even try.

"Don't say that."

"Huh?"

His hands were on boy's shoulders and now that he knew what he was looking for it was so easy to tell the difference, he didn't know how he never noticed it before. He held Edward down both firmly and as gently as he could, as he never got to hold his own children, and for a second he imagined a different boy sitting there.

What would he tell his son?

"You're not a freak. Maybe you were just built different. It makes you all the cooler for putting up with more bullshit than the rest of us."

"You swore!" The boy cackled and his eyes lit up with wonder, but there was something so raw and painful in them that it made Vato's own raging fire look like a candle in comparison. "And you think I'm cool?"

"Yes, Edward. The coolest"

And for the first time they've known each other Falman didn't have to force himself to smile. Fullmetal's answering grin felt a like warm sun on his aching bones.

(And just a little bit like forgiveness.)

"Ha! You just wait until our next argument, Bastard! I got Falman to swear, now no one can stop me!"

Elric hopped off the couch, laughing maniacally, and ran out the door before Vato could even think to stop him.

It was, perhaps, for the best. After getting a glimpse into the weight that boy had been carrying on his shoulders, Falman didn't want him to see the man crawling to his desk. Who was he to complain about his pain when they had a literal child soldier around with two metal limbs?

He had so many questions. How did this happen? What about his little brother and that armor? Their parents? And what on earth did they think they were doing, joining the military at that age? Twelve and eleven, oh, it was completely absurd.

There was so much data to work with, to uncover, to analyze. But for the very first time in his life...

"I've had worse. Much worse."

...Vato Falman was absolutely certain that he didn't want to know.

[nocturnal-grimoire]

I’ve been on a tear recently about the concept of complaining. In the sense that I know there is a common sentiment out there that people -shouldn’t- especially over smaller things. And I call bullshit on that.

There is -always- gunna be someone with bigger or smaller stress and problems than you, at all times. If you’re mad someone with less stress than you complains cuz you have it worse, please feel free to think about the starving orphaned children in war torn countries yourself. Your problems are no more important than the person with less stress than you by comparison. It’s hypocritical to be mad at someone with less stress than yourself if you are both stressed about things. No one’s minimizing your stress by complaining about their own.

And if it’s not an issue of someone complaining while having less stress, it’s about people having more. A belief that -because- there’s always someone who has it worse than you, you should never complain. And that everyone else should also hold that sentiment. But unless the world’s collectively agreed on the one person currently alive who has it the worst, then no one at all ever can complain by that logic, even if they do genuinely have it really bad.

And if you think “well that’s extreme it doesn’t have to be one single person experiencing the worst, its just that some things are more valid to complain about than others” then I ask you why you’d think everyone in the world would agree on where that line is drawn on what is and isn’t worth complaining about. When is complaining reserved for?

Or do you just think no one at all ever should be allowed to express that they’re unhappy with their circumstances? That everyone should lie always about their pain and unease and discomfort? Should never seek help with anything because they’d have to complain about a problem to do so?

People verbally complain -because- they’re looking to get something out of doing so. They might be looking to brainstorm a solution, to ask for assistance, or just reassurances.

Imagine someone has worked hard to get into their dream career and found their dream job only to some time into it get laid off from it. No fault of their own, just budget cuts and people had to go. They come home and tell someone this. And the person they tell immediately goes “Quit whining and find a new job”. Like you’re allowed to be sad about and disappointed in life changes, especially when you’ve worked hard to achieve your dreams and they’re taken from you. Imagine telling someone freshly widowed to stop crying and move on before the funeral has even happened.

When you hate complaining you allow no room for human emotions to exist and serve their purpose in aiding you to move on from the problem. If you bottle up all those negative emotions and never talk about when you are sad or angry or grieving or scared, you’re gunna explode one day and hurt yourself or others in the process.

Honestly this is -why- I complain about the small stuff and not the big stuff as much. It allows me to get things that are bugging me off my chest, and reassurance that my feelings about it are valid, which helps me rally to tackle the more manageable. It’s also easier to get advice or solutions or reassurance about the small things, because it’s more likely the people you’d talk to have experienced the thing you’re complaining about before, so they understand and can speak from personal experience.

The big things though? More serious or life changing things? Things arguably more worth expressing negative feelings about? They’re often things no one can do anything about. Not always things someone else has experienced. Harder to find the words that will comfort someone grieving or find a solution to a problem that doesn’t have one. Complaining will at best get me a few “I’m sorry 😞”s, which I guess at least validates that I’m right to be upset, but if it’s something bigger like that, it’s generally socially expected to be upset.

It’s like. I don’t need someone to tell me it’s ok to feel sad if a loved one dies - that’s like, a nearly universally expected emotion to have in that scenario. And no one can bring back the dead so there’s no problem solving that one. So why complain. Believe me I’ll be feeling the horrible weight of grief in that scenario there’s just little point in talking about it.

What I don’t know is if I’m having an unreasonable emotional reaction in a social situation - if I’m reading too much into things or not, if I’m misunderstanding things or not. Communication is so different and complex with each person I need second opinions on situations. I need to know if how I’m feeling about my understanding of a situation makes sense. And I want to be told if there’s another way of interpreting it I didn’t think of.

For that, I can get either reassurance that my understanding and feelings are correct, or problem solving and/or advice in the form of gaining different perspectives on the matter. Gaining knowledge to make the best informed decision on how to proceed or react to something based on the possibilities.

When I’m inconvenienced or frustrated by something to the point of being a little angry. I do a small vent, gain perspective or reassurance, feel either validated or given a reality check to make me consider it’s not as bad as I was initially feeling like it was, and as a result I’m feeling more focused and grounded. I can take a deep breath, and carry on.

Instead of keeping my mouth shut and letting my negative feelings fester. Get more and more angry at someone over something small that I wasn’t able to see a different perspective on until I blow up at them. Or be unable to accomplish something I’m trying to focus on because my negative feelings aren’t allowing me to focus on anything but them. Poorly assessing a social situation and freaking out on someone I misunderstood.

I -know- myself. And I know I can be emotional and sensitive to things. I complain about these sorts of small things to gauge if I’m overthinking or overreacting to something. It’s -important- to me to strive to be understanding and level headed and as best informed as I can be in every day interactions. So I don’t cause hurt feelings in myself or others by blowing something small out of proportion on accident. I feel like it’s smart and emotionally mature of me to pause and question if I’m overreacting to something before I act on it, so I can handle it appropriately.

The turmoil that goes on in my head that I simply don’t voice a lot of the time, because I know logically that my thoughts are dramatic and extreme conclusion jumping a lot of the time. I -know- they’re unrealistic. I try not to take them as fact. But the what ifs and second guessing remain. And sometimes some of it is worth asking about to ease some of that fear.

TLDR; complaining is valid regardless of how much stress you do or don’t have as it helps your work through the problems you’re facing.

PS - I will admit there is a difference between complaining about a specific thing once or twice, vs constantly and unyieldingly, without solving or moving on from the problem. Maybe that’s where the hang up here occurs. If it’s being used to wallow in the negative emotions and not move on.

But if you can’t solve the problem or get away from the problem, the problem persists and continues to bother you until you do. And unfortunately it’s not always easy or quick to do one of those two things. Or imagine having chronic pain. That’s not something you can fix or get away from and will always bother you. What then?

Even in this scenario it’s not always black and white.

[ginger-commander-is-tired]

9, 19, 23 for both Michael and Alex!

9. Are they also a healer/medic? What can they do if someone is hurt and needs assistance? Can they heal themselves? Do they have a plan for when they're injured?

Michael started his Pact "career" as a healer. Elementalist healer to be more specific. Nowadays he is still capable of being a medic/healer if necessary but currently he is more "dps" oriented. Definitely he uses his healing abilities more on himself since he is more of a frontline soldier.

Alex certainly is not a healer and would be a horrible one if he ever became one. He also considers it to be "BOOOOOOORING!" His Mist magic makes him harder to damage. You have better chances against him by simply distracting him or infuriating him to the point he loses control of his magic.

19. Are their skills augmented by anything? (ie. enchanted armor, prosthetics/physical augmentations, blessings from powerful beings, rituals, experimentation, etc)

Michael is "only" augmented by the mere fact of being a Dragon Champion of Aurene. Thanks to this magical bond he is not only an elementalist but also a mesmer. But it took him years to actually see the strength of having such powers because before he couldn't use mesmer magic properly + was locked out of elementalist magic for years. Astral Ward took him to intensive magical training which allowed him to understand mesmer magic more in depth and successfuly utilize it in combat. They also taught him "switching" between elemental and mesmer magic without getting stuck in one. During SotO he needed days to switch from one magic domain to another. In JW he needs several hours now. Maybe one day he will be able to combine these kinds of magic...

Alex is basically a fractal copy of Michael which is self-explanatory. His fractal was made by Isgarren and it was the most magically heavy one as it was simulating a year of events between Commander's death to Balthazar and the results of it. So Alex is inherently quite magically potent, more than Michael himself. That's why Astral Ward and Wizard's see Alex roaming free in Tyria to be dangerous. His personality also doesn't help as it diverges from Michael's and became more of his own person. For now (during JW events) Alex is an amnesiac (Wizard's way to keep him under control) with difficulty maintaining new memories so he is for now not that "dangerous".

23. What utility skills do they tend to use? Is there any they can't use for lore reasons?

Michael definitely uses all Tempest shouts to buff his allies or to protect them. He is also slowly getting there with using Chronomancer wells which also aid allies or just do flat damage.

Alex definitely uses Revenant's Mallyx utilities especially its elite skill.

[childoftheyellowsun]

I want to share part 3 with you today of some of the very wise words that I have ever read written by the very wise Jova Ferreyra:

https://www.instagram.com/jovaferreyra?igsh=YWE5d3RnMW5hb2V2

in his latest gentle reminders on redifining Purpose, identity and the meaning of life.

I have been experiencing this shift in mindset for the last 5 years of my life but I couldn't put in words any better than he would have.

In a materialistic world of toxic competence and falsified definitions of productivity I feel that these words could truly help someone on their journey to self exploration.

If you want to subscribe to what Jova called love letters you can do it here:

https://jova-workshops.myflodesk.com/gentle-reminders?fbclid=PAZXh0bgNhZW0CMTEAAaZHNv8ATJkVcJQSUvMPN4a2WTB3gc1TXY_S5_p_KscqM7geRb2Rwv9U8es_aem_WDk4SIw6CAxdXQhae5eKwQ

And if you want to follow his remarkable work The Artidote by the pens and brushes of different artists and writers from all over the world you can do it here:

https://www.instagram.com/theartidote?igsh=MWFjbGRjMXpuejExaQ==

Enjoy.

There's two definitions of purpose that I love and truly resonate with:

Purpose is becoming whatever would have saved you (1).

It's living life authentically; from the heart (2).

Notice how purpose feels a lot like courage—especially these days.

But that's because it disrupts the transaction-based model with which we're practically taught (almost) everything:

That ”once you do this, then you get this.”

But not everything is a transaction (purpose is one of those things).

Purpose is not found in a career choice nor in a final destination because it's not an external pursuit. As such, it has nothing to do with working a job or making money.

PURPOSE IS A MANIFESTATION OF YOUR TRUE EXPRESSION.

And this is not an external resource, but an inner journey:

If you are a pear, your purpose is not to mold yourself into the perfect apple (even if those currently around you love apples). Your purpose is letting yourself be a pear in all of its juicy pear-ness

The reason why some people take a lifetime to "find their purpose" is because of all the layers they've had to shed before recognizing who they are at their core. All the limiting beliefs they have to let go of that kept them from their greatness.

Maybe you've been told your whole life that you had to be a perfectly round apple, when you were really a pear—or a majestic Guanabana

But hey, there's no rush—really. Afterall, any new experience will always be an opportunity for you to discover your authentic self (purpose).

All I'm saying is: you don't have to wait a lifetime. And it's not “out there” somewhere else, outside of you.

Here's a question for you:

Who would you be if you allowed yourself to be everything that you are (beneath the societal expectations, the limiting beliefs and mental constructs)?

Love you,

Last week I shared with you a definition on PURPOSE that I deeply resonate with: 

Purpose

v.

Becoming whatever would have saved you.

This week, I'd like to expand on this definition since it implies a revolutionary approach to seeing the challenges you face or have faced; a way of turning a mess into a message.

In synthesis, it means that our deepest sense of purpose often stems from our own experiences, struggles, and the transformations we wished we had during difficult times.

Context: “Purpose” is the theme I am currently writing about (privately and publicly) these days as a personal way to understand it better myself.

Writing helps me bring more clarity to my thoughts & feelings on a subject; it allows me to see how I have lived or am living through the theme I'm writing about.

I hope today's musings give you more clarity and inspiration as well

Let's dive right in:

Imagine the moments in your life when you felt lost, hurt, or in need of guidance.

In those moments, what did you yearn for? What kind of support, knowledge, or strength would have made a difference?

HELPFUL REFREAME: Purpose is less about finding “that one thing” that your entire existence revolves around, and more about embodying those very qualities that would have made a difference in your life during hardship: becoming the source of solace, wisdom, or empowerment that you once needed.

Here are 5 ways that re-frame can be manifest in your life:

1. A Source of Healing and Empowerment

For instance, if you faced significant challenges with self-worth, finding your purpose might involve helping others discover their own value. If you struggled with loneliness, your purpose could be to carve space where people feel connected and supported.

By transforming into the person you needed, you not only heal your own past but also provide crucial support and inspiration to others walking similar paths.

2. A Journey of Authentic Transformation

Purpose is not about external achievements but about an inner transformation. It's about taking the pain, lessons, and growth from your experiences and turning them into something meaningful and beneficial for the world. Your mess can be a message.

Your purpose then becomes a beacon, guiding others out of the darkness you once knew so well.

3. Disrupting the Transactional Model

The reason why I love this new definition is because it disrupts the traditional, transactional model of purpose. The transaction-model, I'm sure you're familiar with: “I first need to do this, and then I get that.”

I believe it's something we inherited from the capitalist model we exist under. And while it may be helpful in business, it's important to remember that NOT EVERYTHING IN LIFE IS A TRANSACTION

In fact, the most precious things in life are not transactional: love, joy, authenticity, truth, and definitely purpose.

When you become whatever would have saved you, you move away from “doing this to get that” and instead focus on being and becoming. You see, purpose is not about achieving a set goal or acquiring something external. It's about embodying your truth and using your life experiences to fuel your journey and impact.

4. Practical Manifestation of Inner Work

To start becoming what would have saved you, reflect on your past struggles and identify the key elements that would have made a difference. Then, find ways to integrate those elements into your life. This might involve:

Personal Development: Consciously work on yourself to embody the strengths and qualities you once needed.

Helping Others: Sharing your journey, offering support, or creating resources for those going through similar challenges.

Living Authentically: Aligning your actions and choices with the person you've become through your experiences.

5. The Pear and The Apple Analogy

If you are a pear, you are wasting your time trying to be the perfect apple. Maybe you've been told that you should be like the other apples around you or maybe most people like perfectly, round apples. But trying to become something you're not (a perfect apple) is like striving to fit into an external mold that you'll never be good enough for.

Instead, embracing your true nature (a juicy pear) means recognizing and honoring your unique experiences and transforming them into your sweetest purpose. Your authenticity and the lessons from your life are what make your purpose unique and powerful.

Final Thoughts

Becoming what would have saved you is about transforming your personal challenges into a source of strength and guidance for others. It's about recognizing that your purpose lies in the authentic expression of your journey and the unique contributions that arise from your deepest experiences. By embodying the qualities and support you once needed, you not only heal your own past but also create a meaningful impact on the world around you.

But it's not always easy, is it? The body still remembers what the mind often tries to forget about the past; hence the fear that shows up when you think about who you REALLY are and embodying your truth.

I get it. Embodying your truth (living as your true self) can be a gruesome process of shedding so many layers of trauma that, over time, has turned into limiting beliefs that we may not even know we're carrying (!). How then are we able to become who we are if we don't even know which beliefs are limiting us?

This is why I'm so passionate about sharing sub-conscious reprogramming tools!

Because you shouldn't have to spend 3 years in therapy (so much time and money) to learn how to:

1. bring your body into a state of calm (your true self)

2. access your subconscious to look for the mental block (it's usually attached to a story we created from a past experience)

3. understand the value of the fear that emerged from the experience

4. fully relinquish that fear from your body & spirit

5. integrate a new story & belief into your life

[xanderthechef]

“I just came from 196” ask game

Sure, I’ll play along. Might be fun; but I don’t know anyone… and tagging random people might be a party foul… idk? So i’ll only reblog and see what happens!

Name? Xander

Pronouns and gender? he/him, cis boy

Sexuality? I don’t know how to classify it! I like boys… I like girls sometimes, too… I like those who lie betwixt… but sex in general is a pretty low priority for me. I’m only ever in love with my friends, too.

Country? USA

Top 5 fandoms? That’s a toughie… (in no particular order) I’m really into the Omori and Ace Attorney fandoms right now. While I don’t consider myself a furry, i enjoy the fandom every once in a while. Uh… I suppose 196 itself counts, right? I can’t think of any others that I particularly associate with. I’m not very experienced with fandom culture.

What is your most forbidden snack? The big stupid red concrete balls at Target. I know they’ve got a delicious ooey gooey center

Would you pet a bug? Yes, absolutely! As long as I don’t hurt it, and it doesn’t mind

Share a weird fact/story about yourself with the class. One time in the seventh grade, I was recounting a Jim Gaffigan bit about hot pockets to these two girls i sat next to during social studies class. They were laughing pretty hard, but probably more at le than the bit. I thought he was the peak of comedy at the time. The teacher stopped the class and everyone focused on me, which i took a second to notice before i shut up. The teacher asked me what on earth I was talking about that was so much more important than doing my work, to which my response was to stand up in my desk and say “have you ever had a hot pocket hot pocket? Its a hot pocket filled with a hot pocket. Tastes just like a hot pocket! 🎶Hoooot Pooocket!🎶” She was not amused.

What does the color blue taste like? Blue Moon ice cream

What is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen? That’s a pretty hard to quantify question for me…. What I can tell you is that I cut a red cabbage in half the other week and the inside was definitely up there on my list!

What is the stupidest thing you’ve ever done? I graduated high school and culinary school when I was 16. Instead of… yknow, starting my career… going to more college… I instead decided to stay at home for three years and help my mom around the house as a live in full time nanny. I got paid room and board…. And a small stipend. While I gained childcare experience, I otherwise wasted my time. I could have gotten a real job and saved for college. I’m kicking myself for that decision every day when i see the new semester rolls around asking me for a couple grand. Shoulda bailed while I could, but now I feel stuck here.

Stupidest thing you’ve seen/heard someone else do/say? My qanon uncle once sent me an email telling me that he wanted to have a relationship with me, but my libtard family was poisoning my mind; and that he would love to show me the truth before its too late. I didn’t respond.

Hyperfixation song? Currently? Wellerman by Nathan Evans. Before this, it was a FNF song called “Zoo Wee Mama” and before that it was Feelings are Fatal by mxmtoon

Is there any meaning behind your pfp and/or username? The pfp was a random image off my camera roll. “xanderthechef” has been my username for everything for over a decade. I got my culinary trade degree in 2018 and have done… basically nothing professional with it. BUT! My cheesecake is locally famous!

Dream career as a child? My earliest memory of a dream job was to be a rock star… later, i wanted to go into geology, then nutritional anthropology.

Dream career as an adult? I wanna make art in any way i can, be that culinary, digital, drawing, or even through music, video or video games. I love art but i also fucking hate it and why can I never draw right ever

Thoughts on cilantro? A necessary evil. Don’t go overboard! I once had a ceviche with so much cilantro in it the fish was dyed green. Yuck! But if there aint any at all… I’m gonna miss it.

Have you ever been banned from a location and if so, why? Nope, none. I’m a good boy 👍

What is your cursed food combination? Oh, my secret shame… I like to dip the m&ms into the nacho cheese at the movie theater.

Trans rights? Uh… duh and/or hello!

Hooray. I done it. Tagging NO ONE😠😠

“I just came from r/196” ask game

Saw another post. I think I should invite y'all to one of our longstanding traditions. Answer the questions then tag 10 (or more) people. I'll go first.

Name? Frankie

Pronouns and gender? he/they/it, transmasc

Sexuality? Lesbian

Country? USA

Top 5 fandoms? Bungou Stray Dogs, Cosmere, All for the Game, Fundiesnark (not a series but I'm too deep in it to not consider it a fandom), .....the tornado fandom? (they're my special interest)

What is your Most forbidden snack? The preserved bones at the Atlanta Bodies Exhibition. They looked so crunchy...

Would you pet a bug? If it's big enough, it is pettable.

Share a weird fact/story about yourself with the class. I like to drive around rural areas and photograph old, sometimes abandoned locations in the dead of night. I have been literally chased out of towns by foot and by car on two separate occasions. The second time this happened, "See You Again" by Miley Cyrus came up on shuffle and that's the soundtrack my friend and I tore out of town to. Also every "guy" I've dated except for my most recent ex (who has big egg energy) is a lesbian now.

What does the color blue taste like? Creme brulee

What is the most beautiful thing you've ever seen? The appalachian mountains of Tennessee in the middle of summer. There's kudzu everywhere. On the backroads, there were several old, dilapidated Baptist churches barely hanging to the side of the mountain. I wonder how many of them were still in use.

What is the stupidest thing you've ever done? Short version: my friend's house almost got broken into by this dude who'd been stalking us for months while we were home alone. Instead of calling the cops, we decided to confront him with a bow and arrow (me), a hatchet, and a baseball bat (him). The plan was that if it went badly, we would simply throw his corpse into one of the many lakes in the neighborhood and let the alligators eat his remains (this was Florida). Why? Because we were afraid of having our home-alone privileges revoked. Luckily for us all, the guy fucked off and we never saw him again.

Stupidest thing you've seen/heard someone else do/say? My ex thought that Jackalopes were real. Also, a nurse I was doing rotations with apparently thought that "Witness Protection" was for Jehovah's Witnesses.

Hyperfixation song? Young Enough + Bleach by Charly Bliss

Is there any meaning behind your profile picture and/or username? Profile pic; I'm transmasc and I'm currently obsessed with TriStamp. Username; It was my fake internet name when I was like 13. I won't change it because I want my mutuals to recognize me, and because I do have a viral post associated with this name.

Dream career as a child? Doctor (funnily enough I'm now in nursing school)

Dream career as an adult? Professional Jester. Not a comedian. I just want to be some weird little guy who dresses silly and you can hire me to roast your boss at work parties.

Thoughts on cilantro? Delicious

Have you ever been banned from a location and if so, why? I honestly can't remember? Probably... but in recent memory I've mainly banned people from places.

What is your cursed food combination? Pineapple on a hotdog with grilled onions. It Slaps.

Trans rights? TRANS RIGHTS

Tagging: @rocket-mankoi @mostlymarco @atleast8courics @jazzlike39 @gemsweater72 @limbobilbo @ameliaaltare @redcrane112 @theoneofwhomisblue @twinkenjoyer @theultimatecarp and anyone else who wants to jump on

[alexwatchesshows]

Black Sails VIII (S1E8)

Spoilers for up to and including E8.

I forgot that all this happened in one episode, but then again it's Black Sails, and this is the first of four amazing season finales.

Silver is somehow still alive and on the Walrus, although given that his position currently relies on Randall, he's probably not as secure as he'd like to be. To be fair, those 18th century prosthetics don't look fun and I'm not sure I wouldn't feel the same if someone tried to make me wear one. Either way, Silver somehow has less problems than the rest of them. His schedule was actually correct (can we just take a moment to appreciate that this man held a full fucking schedule in his head for weeks after having it for one day), Eleanor's still protecting him (I assume), and he may be about to come into a lot of money. He clearly wants some clarity in terms of what Flint's plans for him are, which Flint absolutely will not give him, but, honestly, things could be worse. He could be Gates.

Flint and Gates are just a complete mess at this point. A bunch of people are expecting Gates to kill Flint whilst Gates, the wonderful man that he was, was going to help Flint escape but even then would definitely end his career as a pirate. Flint, meanwhile, would never let anyone get in between him and the Urca. I'm pretty sure they put that drinking scene in there just to hurt us even more, to show us that a) Flint and Gates are actually really close friends and b) Gates is (was) a gem of a human being. Seriously, who else would spend weeks trying to deliver a letter to a friend's sister? And all that just makes the events of the following day even harder. After everything that's happened, the Urca isn't there. I can't explain why, but something about that just feels so fitting. It's not good for Flint though, as it brings all the tensions between him, Gates, and the rest of the crew to boiling point. De Groot wants Flint tried then and there, Flint wants to go after a literal man o' war (I don't know much, but it having "war" in the name is generally a bad sign), and Gates, oh poor old Gates, just wants to get everyone back to Nassau before shit hits the fan, but I think he knows that that won't happen. Him handing Dufresne the letter with his confession was him admitting that to himself, and letting himself believe, for the first time, that Flint might rather kill him than give up on his dreams. This realisation is, for him, the breaking point that brings all the other realisations crushing down, and he loses it with Flint. He finally tells Flint that "(his) duty is to the (crew) not you", something that Flint had convinced both of them wasn't true, and Flint can't recognise that Gates is beyond believing in anything he says, I don't think he realises the extent to which he's grasping at straws until he accuses Gates of muntinying and Gates reveals everything he's been doing to manage the actual muntiny but, at this point, I think he's too far gone to actually act rationally on it. The final straw for Flint, though, is Gates' crushingly well-meaning plan to get him and Miranda to safety. The second he heard the word pardon, it was over for Gates. Whatever the backstory is between Flint and Miranda, I don't think he knows all of it, because, unlike Miranda, he didn't even try to sugarcoat the suggestion of taking the pardon. I think the worst thing is, neither of them could have stopped what was going to happen. Gates couldn't have prevented a mutiny for any longer, and Flint couldn't have let Gates take his life as a pirate away from him. Despite, or because of, its inevitability, that scene is the most emotional one in the show so far. It really showcases what Black Sails is becoming and the direction that it's heading in (more on that in my season 1 wrap-up probably). And the most Black Sails thing about it is that, as Flint is killing one of our most beloved, genuinely kind-hearted, characters, we feel more sorry for him than ever before. I can't express or describe the emotions that watching Flint choke his best friend to death, all while crying and apologising again and again evokes, but oh boy are those emotions powerful. This is definitely some kind of turning point.

Then, as Flint is processing what he's just done, holding Gates' body, Silver comes in. These two are a match made in hell, we can be sure of that. Flint has just killed someone, acting on emotion and impulse, and now Silver is coming in with little to no emotion and immediately treats the situation like a crime scene, all while Flint is collapsed like a cornered, dying animal. Flint tries to stop Silver but quickly gives in, whether because he sees the logic in it or just because he can't fight anymore (probably a bit of both). Then, just as a new sort of equilibrium has been achieved in this moment of absolute chaos and upheaval, Dufresne also comes to shake things up. At this point, it's probably good that Silver's also present, because Dufresne hasn't always been the best at acting on what's smartest, as opposed to what feels best. Silver is possibly too good at talking people into being what he wants, because Dufresne ends up giving Flint important advice, reaching some kind of uneasy truce.

As such, they go into the confrontation with the spanish ship with some kind of (not necessarily firm) footing, which Flint immediately tests with his ploy to prove that the man o' war is there for the Urca, and then going to attack a ridiculously overpowered ship. Also, Silver speaks Spanish? Anyway, this proves to be too much for Dufresne who shows more awareness of other people's perceptions of him than I maybe gave him credit for and choses the right exact moment to call Flint out. De Groot, meanwhile, is being the grumpy and prophetic old man we all know and love (I mean, seriously, "Time and time again he gambles with our lives. That is, when he's not taking them in cold blood." this man could make a killing as a writer of some sort, along with Mr "there are not legacies in this life ... just the water. It pays us, then it claims us" Gates, grumpy prophetic old men rise up I guess). For the second time in one day, Flint is having his power, future and dream taken away from him at the last moment. There's a moment where everything comes full circle as Logan(?) confirms the evidence condemning Flint is true, much as Billy confirmed Singleton's "theft", except, this time, it's likely that the evidence is true (although we never see the letter). Flint can see he's lost, but he keeps screaming for the guns to fire, then tries to fire them himself, only stopping when Dufresne literally shoots him.

At some point in the middle of all this, De Groot stops being a pessimistic prophet for a moment to actually do something. It's a good move, because Silver is one slippery man, and De Groot almost has him when we get one of the plot twists of all time: Randall, the man who, as far as we've known so far, has barely any awareness of his situation and little to no loyalty to Silver, fucking knocks De Groot out with his prosthetic leg, and follows that up with "you're welcome". What a guy. He remains a mystery to me-- this only complicates things-- but what a character. Silver then uses this opening to just shake shit up, I guess maybe because he thinks that starting a battle is one way to avoid immediate execution. We get a few moments of not quite calm, but organisation, as the Walrus crew accept that they're in battle and now need to win. Flint gets some semblance of control back as he advises/commands Dufresne, moving round the ship freely again, despite having recently been shot. The pirates have momentary victory thanks to the element of surprise. Then, in a moment of incredibly cinematography, the man o' war's gun ports open, audio becomes distant for a moment, then all hell breaks loose.

At this point, we should probably admit that Gates, Dufresne, and everyone who said that firing on a man o' war would be a really, spectacularly, bad idea were probably right. The Walrus is met with pure destruction. At some point, Flint is knocked overboard into the water. Whether he's unconscious or just letting himself sink is unclear but that shot of calm amidst the destruction is eerily beautiful.

Meanwhile, on Nassau, things are not going a whole lot better. At the beginning of the episode, it does look like Jack has some level of control over his new (not necessarily ideal) situation. He's firing Mapleton, he's working well with Max, he's got the merchants on his side, things are the best they've been for him for the best part of this season so far. Anne is not happy about any of this, but doesn't really say why. There's also a moment of her just... looking at Max in a moment of yearning(?) that breaks her general grumpiness for just a second. Eleanor, too, has got her shipping consortium more or less sorted. Sure, Mr. Scott is leaving her and she has no idea what's going on with Flint, but, like Jack, she's made the best of a bad situation and has more than found her feet

Then, just like with the Walrus, everything comes crashing down around them. Vane has returned with a vengance, a new crew, a shockingly effective plan, and a flare for the dramatic. Immediately, he sews as much panic and confusion as is humanly possible and, in doing so, effectively asserts his power. Mr Scott, despite his increasingly complicated relationship with Eleanor, immediately goes to protect her, making him possibly the only helpful person in this situation. Vane doesn't seem to have much of a goal beyond the ever-elusive ideals of power and strength, and all Hornigold cares about is his fucking chair. Vane then comes fully onto the scene with a slightly out of place story about Eleanor being fearless in Nassau, then claims to know her. Honestly, a lot of this seems like a massive ploy to get Eleanor to talk to him, but I guess it has worked a little. Eleanor is, for once, incredibly pragmatic about the situation, switching loyalties from Hornigold to Vane very quickly. That definitely won't have any negative consequences. Vane, too, adjusts very quickly to his new situation and immediately goes around to tie up his other loose end. As Anne predicted, he's suitably mad at (what he thinks was) Jack killing the remainder of their crew, and has found the worst possible punishment for a man obsessed with his name and reputation. At least, while all this is going on, Max and Eleanor come to some kind of agreement. Max is dressed spectacularly, and they're both stood in a secure position, looking out over Nassau. Max has come to appreciate Eleanor's point of view (and also possibly enjoys showing Eleanor how well she's doing without her) and each one seems to appreciate and respect the other's position and perspective. Yay for communication and emotional maturity!

Then we get our last moments on Nassau, after Max's "on sand, nothing is fixed" speech (prophetic women! yay!), with Vane in Hornigold's damn chair and Eleanor on the beach, just like in Vane's memory of her. It's a cool way to show how the power has shifted in Nassau, all whilst Flint and co. are off dying elsewhere.

Flint is, once again, absolutely covered in blood and sand and just general grime. Silver has pulled him out of the ocean, probably because he's recognised that Flint is the only guy who might not want to kill him immediately. He also seems to have mostly undressed Flint and given his bullet wound the school nurse treatment (wet paper towel). Silver is, once again, looking shockingly unaffected by everything, even maintaining some kind of optimisim that James "why am I still alive" Flint has long since given up on. Then we get yet another stunning shot of Flint and Silver on the beach, looking very small in the space of everything. It's an interesting perspective to just throw in there, even for a moment. Flint also gets an answer to his question pretty quickly as he (now with crumpled shirt) is shown the Urca. That sure is some painful irony-- that, if they had taken one piece of information into account, none of the past episode might have happened. Now, he and Silver are being kept alive as likely sacrifices for the process of getting the gold. What a way to end the season. I'm glad that all the seasons were released by the time I started this.

[ledenews]

Jennifer Galownia: Singing the Harmonies of Dreams Come True

She takes all “things” very seriously because she believes it’s the only way to do all “things” the right way. Like her job. It’s in the medical lab field. Gotta get that right. And her music. Pitch perfect. A wife and a mother? Hey man, those people are her tribe. Her untouchable tribe. Get it, mister? Jennifer Galownia a cop’s wife, a Bridgeport resident ready to defend the village against its social media critics, and she admits she needs to do a better job of slowing down enough to record her family’s ever-progressing evolution. But, for being so dead damn serious so often, Galownia does love to smile and to laugh as often as possible, and she enjoys making herself giggle even if no one chuckles with her. An example? Her job title in the “About” section of her Facebook timeline is, simply, “Being Hilarious,” and her intro states, “Wife and momma trying to raise lions, not sheep.” See? Real deal, right? And then the Facebook Intro continues, “Sang in Washington, D.C. at THE WHITE HOUSE.” Oh yeah, she did that back in December 2018 with the other duo of The Ron Retzer Trio, and if not for her songbird voice and her due diligence while communicating with the Trump Administration, she, Retzer, and Bob Wolfe would not have performed that day in the West Wing’s Cross Hall. That’s because Galownia takes all “things” very seriously because she believes it’s the only way to do all “things” the right way. Jennifer and her father have lived in Bridgeport for several years. What instigated your current music career with the Ron Retzer Trio? I was performing for local fundraisers and churches with some other people around the area, when Ron (Retzer) and Bob (Wolfe) got recruited in 2012 to join the group for a wider variety. After a while, the three of us agreed that our harmonies with each other were something special, so we formed what is now known as the Ron Retzer Trio. It’s been a rewarding and beautiful relationship not just between each of us, but our families, too. We all get to travel together, which keeps it interesting. We’ve all been fortunate to watch each other’s kids grow – mine, Bob’s … Ron’s grandchildren and now his great-grands! You are angry and passionate about the current drug epidemic. Why? Drugs. Well. This is a hard one. Back in 2011, I got hired on by Calloway Labs to help start up inpatient and outpatient drug testing for a local substance abuse program due to new federal guidelines. It opened up a somewhat sheltered viewpoint in regard to the opioid crisis, homelessness and mental health issues as more and more people came in. I am not certain when it became more than just a lab for me, but my office has seen thousands of people over the years. I remember most of them. That August, I remember when staff came to tell me that one of our clients had overdosed. That was the beginning of reality. After news that he died, it seemed to happen every couple of months. I’d meet people at their very worst. Back then I’d go up into the crisis unit where they were, and eventually they’d work their way to the outpatient department. If they did well, and so many do, they would continue with treatment and therapy. But, it seemed every couple months, someone would disappear, get called back out by “a friend” or a family member and the addiction would eventually win out. I wouldn’t see them again. It’s also a rewarding job, meeting these hurting people and watching them overcome obstacles. They’re excited just to get clean, have their own place, and get children back who were removed during active drug addiction. It’s a long process, but I’ve seen many people come up and out of that lifestyle to become productive, professional members of society while implementing the valuable tools and lessons learned. So, I guess I do get angry, and sad, but I am most passionate about the possibilities for all of them to have a rewarding, sober life when they learn their worth. What “season of songs” is your favorite collection of music? The 80’s. They don’t make ‘em like that anymore! And the genre didn’t matter. From country, to pop, rap and R&B, I skated to them all! Galownia unfortunately, has a front-row seat for the ongoing drug epidemic. On a scale of 1 to 10 with 10 representing the worst possible, how nervous were you when your husband went to work as the administrator of the Belmont County Jail? I can’t remember how long Stan served as the Assistant Jail administrator, but I remember when his boss resigned in the midst of the COVID pandemic. I wasn’t nervous that he couldn’t do the job, he’d been doing it for years anyway, but I was nervous because of the daily stress on him. We both knew it would probably increase with the complete responsibilities, due to the fact that it was his neck on the chopping block, even for things he wasn’t made aware of. Adding that to the COVID scare, having to know the ever-changing protocols for quarantining and how to delegate things to a dwindling staff didn’t make matters any better. I never doubted that he would be a great administrator, especially because he had experience in every single part of that jail down to the fire system, and because he’s a people-person and most know not to “take his kindness for weakness” as I’ve heard him say many times. He’ll let you go for a bit, then tell you why you’re wrong. Since bringing the jail through COVID and a stellar passing jail inspection, his retirement at the end of August has been great. He paid his dues and left the new guy a clean slate. He’s enjoying a new job, now not supervising anyone but himself, and he likes it. Jennifer has always been a singer, and she and her family have enjoyed traveling together for performances. Why do you give people a pickle? And now the pickle … I used to work at Stone and Thomas at the mall many moons ago in their housewares department. I would go over to Notions and help decorate the Christmas trees when we weren’t busy. I remember unpacking little pickle ornaments and being so excited to hide most of them, but still make them “kind of” visible. I got to tell people the story behind the Christmas Pickle. My maiden name is Faulkner, which is of German descent. I found it only fitting to share it with others who didn’t know. One day, there was a radio broadcast and I called in and was able to talk about the story of the Christmas Pickle on the air. So, I went out to Hallmark one afternoon to get a brand new pickle ornament that I believe may grace the Novotney family Christmas tree to this day. My daughter still hides ours every year, and strangely enough, it’s always her younger brother who seems to find it first. Read the full article

[snowfuls]

she doesn't need to be coddled. not now, not ever. but brutus does so all the same... on occasion. moving to grip the back of her head, urging the younger victor forward so, he can press a quick kiss to her temple before pissing off back to the mentor's lounge, winking as he goes. aligned as the contrasting pair from two are, in their outlook on life as well as on the games currently taking place, with ambrosia now in the arena, enobaria finds herself mourning the loss of his company as the quell begins. had things gone her way, she'd be going with him. she'd have been going with him for years now but the reality is all the more bleaker. a hall of "winners" who would rather be anywhere else, it seemed. it's useless and thankless and makes her feel more like a prop than any amount of promotion or pandering ever has.

still, there's familiar faces abound. not many enobaria has taken any particular interest in over the years, absorbed as she often is in district two and its prospects each year but with this being an "extra special" quell, there's more to consider. thought coming to mind as she watches the newly formed career pack grace the images projected before annie cresta — the members of which include cadence's pseudo-father and annie's very real one. these aren't coincidences that go unnoticed by enobaria but ever the lone wolf, fangs and all, she can't help but wonder what it's like to be tied to somebody in such an indelible way. helpless, she imagines. in situations such as this, where it's life or death, unique and largely unfathomable as it is to most who surround them. it's almost enough to make her feel better off for orphanhood. almost.

❛ but neccessary. ❜ she calls, coming to lean against a table nearby, stormy brown hues taking in the supposed "mad girl". they'd only won their games five years apart from one another but appeared to represent the full spectrum of winning methods. or rather, both ends of said spectrum. proactivity and passivity. for no matter which way you spun it, annie cresta was a pawn knocked off the board early. one the victor from two had scarcely glimpsed in the years following her games. it makes the girl who swum to victory somewhat of a spectacle in her own right. so much so that the acts of brutality being committed by enobaria's tribute of choice fade to background noise. pride swells in her chest in spite of that. they can't bet, of course but as far as enobaria is concerned, these were ambrosia's games to win. and she continues to make little secret of that fact, hurt feelings over doomed loved ones be damned. ❛ looks as though ours are teaming up though. i'm sure fletcher will live longer with her by his side. ❜ or not. it's not as if enobaria had set the best example when it came to allies.

where: either a coffee shop nearby the hotel she's residing in or the victor's lounge. ( take your pick ! )

who: anyone who isn't currently in the arena.

this isn't the first time annie has been within these four walls. seat is comfortable enough, she might make this her temporary residence while the seventy-fifth hunger games is underway. sure, she could watch within the comfort of her hotel room, but the bustle of other life here might be a welcomed distraction compared to the silence of her lodging. her main focus is fletcher, who seems to be linked with the career pack. during her own games, the district four tributes were not in alliance with one and two. that should buy him some time. but his score is higher than what annie's was and he has academy training ... maybe he'll make it out.

mind wanders elsewhere too. hazelle is katniss everdeen's aunt. chandler is friends with peeta's brother. ezra is a dear friend of thea's though annie suspected it was more. lavender had been kind to her ; every caesar interview made it so evidently clear that people had someone waiting for them at home. while annie does believe that the yearly slaughter of children is worse than an entirely adult arena kids are innocent of the doings of those before them it doesn't prevent the situation from being terrible and morbid.

but thought is broken as ambrosia from two strikes down zephyr and wendy. it's one right after the other. knives fly through the air with such precision. it's a span of like a minute. the holographics make it seem like you're watching it all just a short distance from the true acts. it's bloody and cannons boom. eyes shut for a few moments as she bites the inside of her cheek. the woman from two looked so proud. once she opens her eyes again, she simply acknowledges, " that was brutal. " guess the odds weren't in five's favor.

[childoftheyellowsun]

I want to share with you today part 2 some of the very wise words that I have ever read written by the very wise Jova Ferreyra:

https://www.instagram.com/jovaferreyra?igsh=YWE5d3RnMW5hb2V2

in his latest gentle reminders on redifining Purpose, identity and the meaning of life.

I have been experiencing this shift in mindset for the last 5 years of my life but I couldn't put in words any better than he would have.

In a materialistic world of toxic competence and falsified definitions of productivity I feel that these words could truly help someone on their journey to self exploration.

If you want to subscribe to what Jova called love letters you can do it here:

And if you want to follow his remarkable work The Artidote by the pens and brushes of different artists and writers from all over the world you can do it here:

https://www.instagram.com/theartidote?igsh=MWFjbGRjMXpuejExaQ==

Enjoy.

There's two definitions of purpose that I love and truly resonate with:

Purpose is becoming whatever would have saved you (1).

It's living life authentically; from the heart (2).

Notice how purpose feels a lot like courage—especially these days.

But that's because it disrupts the transaction-based model with which we're practically taught (almost) everything:

That ”once you do this, then you get this.”

But not everything is a transaction (purpose is one of those things).

Purpose is not found in a career choice nor in a final destination because it's not an external pursuit. As such, it has nothing to do with working a job or making money.

PURPOSE IS A MANIFESTATION OF YOUR TRUE EXPRESSION.

And this is not an external resource, but an inner journey:

If you are a pear, your purpose is not to mold yourself into the perfect apple (even if those currently around you love apples). Your purpose is letting yourself be a pear in all of its juicy pear-ness

The reason why some people take a lifetime to "find their purpose" is because of all the layers they've had to shed before recognizing who they are at their core. All the limiting beliefs they have to let go of that kept them from their greatness.

Maybe you've been told your whole life that you had to be a perfectly round apple, when you were really a pear—or a majestic Guanabana

But hey, there's no rush—really. Afterall, any new experience will always be an opportunity for you to discover your authentic self (purpose).

All I'm saying is: you don't have to wait a lifetime. And it's not “out there” somewhere else, outside of you.

Here's a question for you:

Who would you be if you allowed yourself to be everything that you are (beneath the societal expectations, the limiting beliefs and mental constructs)?

Love you,

Last week I shared with you a definition on PURPOSE that I deeply resonate with: 

Purpose

v.

Becoming whatever would have saved you.

This week, I'd like to expand on this definition since it implies a revolutionary approach to seeing the challenges you face or have faced; a way of turning a mess into a message.

In synthesis, it means that our deepest sense of purpose often stems from our own experiences, struggles, and the transformations we wished we had during difficult times.

Context: “Purpose” is the theme I am currently writing about (privately and publicly) these days as a personal way to understand it better myself.

Writing helps me bring more clarity to my thoughts & feelings on a subject; it allows me to see how I have lived or am living through the theme I'm writing about.

I hope today's musings give you more clarity and inspiration as well

Let's dive right in:

Imagine the moments in your life when you felt lost, hurt, or in need of guidance.

In those moments, what did you yearn for? What kind of support, knowledge, or strength would have made a difference?

HELPFUL REFREAME: Purpose is less about finding “that one thing” that your entire existence revolves around, and more about embodying those very qualities that would have made a difference in your life during hardship: becoming the source of solace, wisdom, or empowerment that you once needed.

Here are 5 ways that re-frame can be manifest in your life:

1. A Source of Healing and Empowerment

For instance, if you faced significant challenges with self-worth, finding your purpose might involve helping others discover their own value. If you struggled with loneliness, your purpose could be to carve space where people feel connected and supported.

By transforming into the person you needed, you not only heal your own past but also provide crucial support and inspiration to others walking similar paths.

2. A Journey of Authentic Transformation

Purpose is not about external achievements but about an inner transformation. It's about taking the pain, lessons, and growth from your experiences and turning them into something meaningful and beneficial for the world. Your mess can be a message.

Your purpose then becomes a beacon, guiding others out of the darkness you once knew so well.

3. Disrupting the Transactional Model

The reason why I love this new definition is because it disrupts the traditional, transactional model of purpose. The transaction-model, I'm sure you're familiar with: “I first need to do this, and then I get that.”

I believe it's something we inherited from the capitalist model we exist under. And while it may be helpful in business, it's important to remember that NOT EVERYTHING IN LIFE IS A TRANSACTION

In fact, the most precious things in life are not transactional: love, joy, authenticity, truth, and definitely purpose.

When you become whatever would have saved you, you move away from “doing this to get that” and instead focus on being and becoming. You see, purpose is not about achieving a set goal or acquiring something external. It's about embodying your truth and using your life experiences to fuel your journey and impact.

4. Practical Manifestation of Inner Work

To start becoming what would have saved you, reflect on your past struggles and identify the key elements that would have made a difference. Then, find ways to integrate those elements into your life. This might involve:

Personal Development: Consciously work on yourself to embody the strengths and qualities you once needed.

Helping Others: Sharing your journey, offering support, or creating resources for those going through similar challenges.

Living Authentically: Aligning your actions and choices with the person you've become through your experiences.

5. The Pear and The Apple Analogy

If you are a pear, you are wasting your time trying to be the perfect apple. Maybe you've been told that you should be like the other apples around you or maybe most people like perfectly, round apples. But trying to become something you're not (a perfect apple) is like striving to fit into an external mold that you'll never be good enough for.

Instead, embracing your true nature (a juicy pear) means recognizing and honoring your unique experiences and transforming them into your sweetest purpose. Your authenticity and the lessons from your life are what make your purpose unique and powerful.

Final Thoughts

Becoming what would have saved you is about transforming your personal challenges into a source of strength and guidance for others. It's about recognizing that your purpose lies in the authentic expression of your journey and the unique contributions that arise from your deepest experiences. By embodying the qualities and support you once needed, you not only heal your own past but also create a meaningful impact on the world around you.

But it's not always easy, is it? The body still remembers what the mind often tries to forget about the past; hence the fear that shows up when you think about who you REALLY are and embodying your truth.

I get it. Embodying your truth (living as your true self) can be a gruesome process of shedding so many layers of trauma that, over time, has turned into limiting beliefs that we may not even know we're carrying (!). How then are we able to become who we are if we don't even know which beliefs are limiting us?

This is why I'm so passionate about sharing sub-conscious reprogramming tools!

Because you shouldn't have to spend 3 years in therapy (so much time and money) to learn how to:

1. bring your body into a state of calm (your true self)

2. access your subconscious to look for the mental block (it's usually attached to a story we created from a past experience)

3. understand the value of the fear that emerged from the experience

4. fully relinquish that fear from your body & spirit

5. integrate a new story & belief into your life