#without a good amount of starters

[tobinsonny]

happy girls!

[zwampy]

#if this is your situation you should absolutely try to figure out who is doing it though#and esp if you're following a schedule you should try to do it in pairs and keep an eye out for them#a lot of people who put up fascist stickers and flyers#are itching for a chance to do violence against the minorities they are trying to incite violence against#also. making a signal chat is good for this. if you see one sticker on the way to work someone else can come and check the area etc

tags @guildenstern

also consider that these people have to order/print these stickers or flyers, whereas we only need to remove them. kill their stride.

and most everyone knows this by now but always be careful of hidden blades.

To anyone wondering if it's worth it to tear down fascist posters or whatever. I spent a few months last year engaged in silent battle with another student at my school who was putting anti trans stickers up everywhere. I had it down to a system where every night I would walk the five block radius they went up in, and tear down all the ones I could reach, and use a stick to put duct tape over the others. Like, within hours of the stickers going up, I would have already purged the whole zone. I knew the basic schedule of whoever put them up based on when and where the stickers appeared. I probably could have found them in person if I'd wanted to. And I told all my classmates and friends what the stickers looked like and got them to rip them down too. And after a few months of this, the stickers slowed, and then stopped forever.

My point is, a lot of this fashy or right wing stuff is one local weirdo. And if you pay attention, and do a little light organizing with your friends, you can basically make their efforts into a giant sisyphisean exercise in misery. You control your streets!

[petermorwood]

More on pre-electricity lighting.

Interesting to see this one pop up again after nearly two years - courtesy of @dduane, too! :->

*****

After experiencing a couple more storm-related power cuts since my original post, as well as a couple of after-dark garden BBQs, I've come to the conclusion that C.J. Cherryh puts far too much emphasis on "how dark things were pre-electric light".

For one thing eyes adjust, dilating in dim light to gather whatever illumination is available. Okay, if there's none, there's none - but if there's some, human eyes can make use of it, some better or just faster than others. They're the ones with "good night vision".

Think, for instance, of how little you can see of your unlit bedroom just after you've turned off the lights, and how much more of it you can see if you wake up a couple of hours later.

There's also that business of feeling your way around, risking breaking your neck etc. People get used to their surroundings and, after a while, can feel their way around a familiar location even in total darkness with a fair amount of confidence.

Problems arise when Things Aren't Where They Should Be (or when New Things Arrive) and is when most trips, stumbles, hacked shins and stubbed toes happen, but usually - Lego bricks and upturned UK plugs aside - non-light domestic navigation is incident-free.

*****

Here are a couple of pics from one of those BBQs: one candle and a firepit early on, then the candle, firepit and an oil lamp much later, all much more obvious than DD's iPad screen.

Though I remain surprised at how well my phonecam was handling this low light, my own unassisted eyes were doing far better. For instance, that area between the table and the firepit wasn't such an impenetrable pool of darkness as it appears in the photo.

I see (hah!) no reason why those same Accustomed Eyes would have any more difficulty with candles or oil lamps as interior lighting, even without the mirrors or reflectors in my previous post.

With those, and with white interior walls, things would be even brighter. There's a reason why so many reconstructed period buildings in Folk Museums etc. are (authentically) whitewashed not just outside but inside as well. It was cheap, had disinfectant qualities, and was a reflective surface. Win, win and win.

*****

All right, there were no switches to turn on a light. But there was no need for what C.J. describes as stumbling about to reach the fire, because there were tinderboxes and, for many centuries before them, flint and steel. Since "firesteels" have been heraldic charges since the 1100s, the actual tool must have been in use for even longer.

Tinderboxes were fire-starter sets with flint, steel and "tinder" all packed into (surprise!) a box. The tinder was easily lit ignition material, often "charcloth", fabric baked in an airtight jar or tin which would now start to glow just from a spark.

They're mentioned in both "The Hobbit" and "The Lord of the Rings". Oddly enough, "Hobbit" mentions matches in a couple of places, but I suspect that's a carry-over from when it was just a children's story, not part of the main Legendarium.

Tinderboxes could be simple, just a basic flint-and-steel kit with some tinder for the sparks to fall on...

...or elaborate like this one, with a fancy striker, charcloth, kindling material and even wooden "spills" (long splinters) to transfer flame to a candle or the kindling...

This tinderbox even doubles as a candlestick, complete with a snuffer which would have been inside along with everything else.

Here's a close-up of the striker box with its inner and outer lids open:

What looks like a short pencil with an eraser is actually the striker. A bit of tinder or charcloth would have been pulled through that small hole in the outer lid, which was then closed.

There was a rough steel surface on the lid, and the striker was scraped along it, like so:

This was done for a TV show or film, so the tinder was probably made more flammable with, possibly, lighter fuel. That would be thoroughly appropriate, since a Zippo or similar lighter works on exactly the same principle.

A real-life version of any tinderbox would usually just produce glowing embers needing blown on to make a flame, which is shown sometimes in movies - especially as a will-it-light-or-won't-it? tension build - but is usually a bit slow and non-visual for screen work.

*****

There were even flintlock tinderboxes which worked with the same mechanism as those on firearms. Here's a pocket version:

Here are a couple of bedside versions, once again complete with a candlestick:

And here are three (for home defence?) with a spotlight candle lantern on one side and a double-trigger pistol on the other.

Pull one trigger to light the candle, pull the other trigger to fire the gun.

What could possibly go wrong? :-P

*****

Those pistol lanterns, magnified by lenses, weren't just to let their owner see what they were shooting at: they would also have dazzled whatever miscreant was sneaking around in the dark, irises dilated to make best use of available glimmer.

Swordsmen both good and bad knew this trick too, and various fight manuals taught how to manage a thumb-shuttered lamp encountered suddenly in a dark alley.

There's a sword-and-lantern combat in the 1973 "Three Musketeers" between Michael York (D'Artagnan) and Christopher Lee (Rochefort), which was a great idea.

Unfortunately it failed in execution because the "Hollywood Darkness" which let viewers see the action, wasn't dark enough to emphasise the hazards / advantages of snapping the lamps open and shut.

This TV screencap (can't get a better one, the DVD won't run in a computer drive) shows what I mean.

In fact, like the photos of the BBQ, this image - and entire fight - looks even brighter through "real eyes" than with the phonecam. Just as there can be too much dark in a night scene, there can also be too much light.

*****

One last thing I found when assembling pics for the post were Folding Candle-lanterns.

They were used from about the mid-1700s to the later 20th century (Swiss Army ca. 1978) as travel accessories and emergency equipment, and IMO - I've Made A Note - they'd fit right into a fantasy world whose tech level was able to make them.

The first and last are reproductions: this one is real, from about 1830.

The clear part was mica - a transparent mineral which can be split into thin flexible sheets - while others use horn / parchment, though both of these are translucent rather than transparent. Regardless, all were far less likely to break than glass.

One or two inner surfaces were usually tin, giving the lantern its own built-in reflector, and tech-level-wise, tin as a shiny or decorative finish has been used since Roman times.

I'm pretty sure that top-of-the-line models could also have been finished with their own matching, maybe even built-in, tinderboxes.

And if real ones didn't, fictional ones certainly could. :->

*****

Yet more period lighting stuff here, including flintlock alarm clocks (!)

[whoskimii]

I WANNA GET FREAKY ON CAMERA . . .

his favorite camgirl ft. toji !

it was ridiculous.

he was a grown man. he was supposed to be a responsible adult. but toji couldn't care less as he logged into his not-so secret account every night.

you were younger than him, maybe in your early twenties. he knew he had to save money but even with how broke he was, he managed to send you some leftovers, only to see your cute little smile when the donation popped up on the screen.

he always competes with the other viewers. you have to notice him, after all. and you do.

whenever someone else sent you money, he did the same right after. and he sent more. he had to send more. sometimes, he even cringed when he checked his bank account but the feeling was swiftly followed by a shrug.

he watched with tired but keen eyes, staring as you waved at the screen with a sweet little grin. his phone was lazily propped up on the coffee table in front of him while he held a beer on his thigh. he got comfy and spread his legs before placing his free hand behind his head.

"hi, everyone !" your voice flew from the device. "how are you ? good, i hope !" you smiled. "as for me, i'm doing fine, as always." comments began to flood in, covering half of the screen. toji, getting annoyed, groaned inaudibly. he didn't give a flying fuck about what other people said, he just wanted you. he wanted to observe his pretty baby without any unwanted distraction.

nonetheless, his emerald green orbs settled on the comment section. he read instinctively, although with a disinterested expression.

idontevenexist : is that a new shirt?? x

sexxwithken : love that shirt baby

huh ? his gaze went from the comments to your outfit. he was so focused on something that he usually didn't care about that he hadn't even noticed the new top you were wearing.

it was cute.

it fell off one of your creamy shoulders. the pink of the shirt brought out your pretty eyes and of course, he couldn't miss the painfully obvious way it exposed your generous cleavage. no one could. they were here for that, anyway. "aw, yes ! it's a new shirt i bought especially for you, guys. thank you for noticing !" you sent a flying kiss towards the camera.

you haven't even started to do anything yet and toji already sent a small amount of money. for starters.

he subconsciously chuckled when you smiled. you approached your face to the camera and waved again. his eyes drifted down and settled on your cleavage shamelessly. "oh, look, guys ! my favorite viewer is here ! hi, toj' !" you beamed happily.

he quirked an eyebrow in surprise.

favorite viewer ?

that was definitely a first. sure, he was a fervent follower and he watched you almost every evening but you never mentioned him being your favorite before. well, he figured that being your favorite wasn't so bad. he acted like he never wanted this in the first place.

comments of curious followers appeared.

akitousui07 : you have a favorite viewer?

fairyylady : favorite viewer ?

idontevenexist : i thought i was :(

hotstuffff : didn't know you had a fav viewerrrr

as toji's eyes lazily trailed over the comments, he scoffed. he was proud to be your favorite viewer. who wouldn't want to be @yourlovelycamgirl's favorite ? you were quite known on the platform.

you giggled. "oh, don't worry, i love all of my followers ! but toj' is definitely my best viewer !" he couldn't help but feel a pang of delight stir at his chest.

it was ridiculous.

he knew it was. but you were so sweet, he couldn't help it, really. you were a pretty girl. everyone wants to be loved by a pretty girl.

he also knew that for a certain price, you sent private videos. private videos with requests, private videos with a precise outfit, you name it. but of course, the price was maybe a bit too high for what it represented. it was a simple video.

but all of his rational thoughts went out the window as he clicked on your username and began to type a message.

toj1231 : you up for a private vid doll?

:3 you wanna see more ?

[gallusrostromegalus]

Hi Gallus, I'm doing some worldbuilding and you seem like you could be connected enough for me to find an answer to the problem of dwarven agriculture. Many problems are created by the requirement of no sunlight, as even the common response of mushrooms still need light to break down decomposing matter as a primary energy source. Currently, we're thinking that they use a special type of mushroom that breaks down rocks in an energy-producing reaction, giving them enough energy to absorb nutrients and grow - this would serve a second purpose in explaining why building a massive hollowed-out mountain fortress doesn't produce an equally large amount of gravel.

Any thoughts? We're grasping at straws kinda lol

Well, some thoughts:

There's plenty of cave systems (especially Karst Systems) that are at least partially open to Sunlight- especially the kind that have rivers running through them, which is something else that's really helpful for agriculture.

For Example: This Cool AF Sinkhole cave in china that has an entire Forest in it

Now There's a view to put outside the city Gates!

Karst specifically is a landscape where underground rivers hollow out the limestone underground and then the cave roofs fall in. This kind of landscape answers your gravel question nicely: the hollowed out mountain does produce an equal amount of gravel, but the gravel turns up as the sandy banks of the river system hundreds of miles away.

So, there's your sunlight that can be used directly, or reflected or magically transferred deeper into the cave system.

Or they just put more holes in the roof! Unless your dwarves are also vampires, there's no reason for them to not hollow out a few Skylights into the mountain too.

But let's talk some other cave ecology and agriculture!

For starters, your dwarves could be sitting on top of a literal gold mine that would allow them to trade for a lot of needed materials and crops.

And by gold mine, I mean Salt Mine.

Historically, salt comes out of hollowed-out mountains and is worth more than gold.

Also something the humans have historically fought a bunch of wars over, so there's some free political tensions if you needed that!

I can also mean the possible fucking enormous piles of bat guano that accumulates in Karst caves, which is the world's most insanely good fertilizer, and ALSO something that has been worth more than it's weight in gold.

Speaking of Gold, another thing that often lives in sinkhole caves in abundance is BEES. turns out, limestone stalactites are a terrific place to build a hive that is difficult for predators to reach, stays dry and the stone substrate means the hives can reach many tons in weight before they start having structural issues. That sweet, sweet insect-derived liquid gold is already important to Dwarves in a lot of folklore- it's really hard to have a Traditional Dwarven Mead Hall without the honey to make the mead, you know?

So you got your mushrooms, you got your sunlight-grown sinkhole crops, you got your traded goods and you got your source of alcohol- the only thing really missing from an ancient food pyramid here is a staple carbohydrate. To that end, may I propose our good Peruvian Friend: The Potato.

Grain crops aren't actually all that nutritious and were kept around in ancient societies more as legal tender that kept the peasants busy, because wheat or rice takes months to grow, an enormous amount of labor to harvest, and wheat also needs to be milled before it can be turned into food- all enormously time-consuming processes that keep peasants busy and easy to rule tyranically over.

Potatoes though? Pop one in the ground in spring and you can dig up fingerlings all summer, and if you make potato towers, you can harvest up to 40lbs of delicious, easy-to-prepare-and-store carb out of a single plant- a real space-saver for the limited sinkhole skyspace.

If your dwarves have cheese, the potato makes even more sense, because Potato+dairy is the easiest, most nutritionally complete survival food there is.

Finally, consider: Dwarven Vodka.

This post is open for anyone to comment suggestions on, but that's my take: put your dwarves in a Karst-sinkhole cave system, give them a highly in demand resource like salt or guano, bees, and taters. Boom. Whole agriculture, economy and political scheme starters.

[aventurineswife]

Paint the World Pink and Blue

Summary: In the chaotic streets of Zaun, you encounter Jinx, the enigmatic and wild inventor with a penchant for explosions and mischief. What starts as a chance meeting quickly turns into an adventure as Jinx pulls you into her unpredictable world of fireworks, inventions, and chaos. Amidst the noise and danger, a connection sparks between the two of you that might just be the most exciting—and dangerous—thing you’ve ever experienced.

Tags: Jinx x Reader, Fluff and Chaos, Slow Burn (implied potential), Found Family Vibes, Mischief, Humor, Explosions, Mutual Pining (?).

Warnings: Mild descriptions of explosives and chaotic behavior, Slightly reckless actions (typical Jinx behavior), Brief mentions of fear/danger due to Jinx's unpredictable nature.

A/N: first time writing this, I have no idea what I did...🧍‍♀️uhhh, bit ooc ig since I have never watched Arcane... yeah, enjoy.

The chaos of Zaun's night market had never felt more alive. Steam hissed from broken pipes, neon lights flickered like desperate fireflies, and the hum of low chatter merged with the occasional boom from distant experiments gone awry. You weaved your way through the crowd, looking for anything resembling stability in this whirlwind city.

And then there she was.

Jinx stood atop a pile of crates, her eyes alight with excitement as she lit another firework. Her braids whipped around her, the perfect complement to the wild grin plastered across her face. It was hard not to stare. She was mesmerizing in the way that storms are—chaotic, destructive, but impossible to look away from.

You didn’t expect her to notice you, but she did.

“Oi, you!” she called, pointing her oversized flare gun at you, though her tone was more playful than threatening. “You’ve got the face of someone who needs a little more boom in their life.”

Your heart jumped, whether from fear or something else, you couldn’t tell. “I’m good without explosions, thanks...” you replied, hoping humor might save you from whatever chaos she was planning.

Jinx hopped down, her boots landing with a thud against the floor. She closed the distance between you with a few skips, her grin only widening. “Boring answer, cupcake. Lucky for you, I don’t take no for an answer.”

Before you could protest, she grabbed your hand and dragged you off toward a secluded corner of the market. The people around you didn’t even blink; they knew better than to get involved when Jinx was in the mix.

She led you to a makeshift workshop cluttered with half-assembled gadgets, jars of brightly colored powders, and an unsettling amount of explosives. She finally let go of your hand, spinning around to face you. “Alright, here’s the deal: I’m working on something big. Huge. Monumental! But I need a second opinion.”

You raised an eyebrow, glancing at the haphazard pile of mechanical parts and volatile materials. “And you picked me because…?”

“Because you don’t run away screaming when I look at you,” she said, tilting her head with a mock-serious expression. “Plus, you’ve got good vibes. I like vibes.”

Before you could decide whether to be flattered or terrified, she thrust a strange device into your hands. It looked like a cross between a grenade and a music box.

“What… is this?” you asked cautiously.

“A party starter!” she exclaimed, leaning closer until her face was inches from yours. “Pull the pin, and it’s fireworks. For, like, five seconds. Then—BOOM! Confetti. Brilliant, right?”

Her enthusiasm was infectious. You couldn’t help but smile, despite your better judgment. “You’re absolutely out of your mind.”

She laughed, the sound bright and wild. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Her gaze softened slightly, the chaos in her eyes dimming just a fraction. “You’re fun. I like fun.”

The moment lingered, her usual frenetic energy giving way to something quieter. Then, just as quickly, she snapped back to her usual self. “Okay, enough mushy stuff! Test it out!”

You hesitated but pulled the pin. The device whirred to life, shooting out a spray of vibrant fireworks that lit up the dim workshop. True to her word, it ended with a shower of confetti and a loud pop. You couldn’t help but laugh.

“See? Told you it’s a hit!” she said, her grin triumphant. “Stick with me, cupcake, and you’ll never be bored again.”

You weren’t sure what you’d just signed up for, but as she grabbed your hand again and pulled you toward her next adventure, you realized you didn’t care. Chaos had never looked so good.

Should I post the Ekko, Isha and Caitlyn fic too...? Hmmm 🤔🫣👀

[pelova4president]

Shadows are to protect I

Alessia Russo x Putellas!Reader

shadows are to protect II, III, IV

summary~ You just moved to Arsenal and everything was unknown to you but now you had Alessia. Your situationship with Alessia was everything but perfect but at least she was there, sometimes.

this is pure angst

Alessia is your whole heart. You could tell her that a thousand times and she still wouldn’t leave her boyfriend.

He doesn’t even get her, not like you do. He doesn’t appreciate her like you do. It should be you holding her hand on the streets. It should be you kissing her in the bars of London.

You didn’t really know when you started to feel that way. You’d just moved to England, a very scary move from your comfortable and warm Spain. Spain and Barcelona was all you’ve even known. Expending your world was just as terrifying as you’d ever believed.

The welcome was cold, very cold. It was the completely opposite of what you were used to, it was quite literally what you were petrified of. You left the warm sun kissing the dark little freckles on your face and exchanged the English rain dropping down on your hair. You weren’t even sure what to call it, not in English and not in Spanish either.

But even now you weren’t sure if you’d go back and stay in Barcelona. The sun might shine there most hours of the working days but you’d always be in the shadows. In the shadows of La Reina, Alexia Putellas, your sister.

The two coloured club had offered you a contract extension where you’d get paid twice the amount you did last year. You’d driven to the club like you did most days but this time you had one thing in mind, or so you thought. Signing for another three years and being the average defender in the team for whenever one of the original starters couldn’t participate.

A red and blue pen rested between your thumb and point fingers as you listened to your manager talk about the future. But most of it fell to deaf ears. “Alexia and you would be the head of the Champions League campaign. Imagine this, the Putellas hermanas on top of Europe.” he said full excitement. It wasn’t the whole campaign that set you off but how he began his sentence, ‘Alexia and you’.

You were sitting here, ready to sign your contract, for your future. They wanted you to sign and still their first thought was Alexia.

Without saying a word you stormed off. You were not doing this again for three more years.

You had spiked interest from multiple clubs, not only Europe but America too. But when Arsenal let your agency know that they wanted you, you knew that that was it. From now on you’ll be a gunner, through and through.

You got picked up from the Airport. With a sign reading ‘Putellas’. It felt good. They didn’t have to clarify which Putellas sister they were picking up, there was only one in London now, you. The bigger man, he might’ve even be twice the height of you introduced himself. And with the little English you had in store you thanked him and told him your name.

The man you now knew as Keith was a simple man. He opened the door for you and didn’t say much. You liked it that way, the silence was fine by you. You liked that the intimidating car you were sat in had tinted windows. Not so you couldn’t be seen but because it gave you some sort of comfort. When you were younger and Alexia was a rising star she had you sit in the backseat, where nobody could see you and where you’d be safe she’d say.

The little droplets of rain were doing races and you had lost for about the twentieth time when the car came to a stop. Keith grumbled something about being there and got out. You didn’t really know what to do and what they expected of you so you opened the car door. Picking your bags up you placed your right foot outside and your left followed.

It all went too fast, Jonas showed almost all the rooms in the building and the wet pitches that were not in any state to be used. You had to film a few shots for your signing announcement, get through a few medical test and finally got to go home.

Keith drove you to your temporary apartment just a few minutes away from the training ground. You had a streak of almost one hundred days of English on Duolingo so you thanked the tall man in the few words you had learned to say and got out of the black Range Rover.

You were home. You were home, you kept repeating those words but you didn’t believe it. You were home.

This is it now. North London is your new home.

The appartement was empty except for the blank furniture, it had no personality and it was hard to think there ever would be. Four white walls, a grey couch, a black kitchen and an all white bed in the middle of your bedroom. They didn’t even tell you that the kitchen would be just as empty as the apartment.

The sound of a notification alarmed you out of your emotionless state. You forgot to put your phone on do not disturb. ‘Where are you?’ it read. Alexia knew you didn’t sign for Barca the day before but she didn’t know you’d be gone by the morning. Tapping on the do not disturb mode you traveled to your all white bed.

And that is how it went, do not disturb mode on. You we there, at the training ground and the games but not really there. You weren’t in the right mindset to talk to anyone yet and that’s why it was so goddamn frustrating when McCabe or Mead tried to get you to talk.

You sat alone at lunch, didn’t go out with your teammates and barely stayed in contact with your sister. That was until Alessia Russo came into your life.

You didn’t mean to let her in. You decided early on that you were at Arsenal for your career and career only. But she changed that, so quick. And before you knew it you were falling for her.

She came into Arsenal and everyone was a fan of her. It seemed like she was friends with everyone instantly and it made you curious.

Alessia had been a gunner for almost a week when you realised she lived across from your apartment. She came knocking on your door one evening, offering you some of het pasta since she had made too much. You knew that she’d been searching for an opportunity to get you to talk to her but you didn’t expect her to come knocking at your door like that.

You let her in and she started to talk to you. You couldn’t exactly call it a conversation since she did all the talking and you muttered out some broken English once in a while. But even though you hated to admit it, she was nice company. It made you feel less lonely, she made you feel less empty.

You’d told Alexia about your move to Arsenal before it officially came out and she wasn’t pleased, at all. She was mad, mad that you didn’t tell her earlier. You told her what had happened and what was racing through your mind when you made the decision but she just couldn’t fathom out the thought of you feeling that way. And that made you feel even less understood, it felt like your life was slipping away from you and you only made it worse with every next move you made.

But Alessia made you feel like you were okay for a moment. After the first day of eating together she offered you food almost everyday and after a month it became a tradition, you would diner together every single day and she even learned you English. You didn’t really progress in your Duolingo streak and didn’t talk much either so the help was very much needed.

It wasn’t until the first half of the season had been played that you realised you had other feelings for her. You saw her as more than just a friend. It was all going very fast and the feelings intensified by the day, that may be because she was the only one you really could talk to. It hurt you to even think about living without her and that might’ve the first warning you should’ve seen but you didn’t.

It was Alessia who kissed you first. You both had been drinking and the two empty bottles of red wine next to your grey couch were the evidence of that. Alessia was a touchy person, just like everyone in Spain so you didn’t mind. She was giggly and teasing you relentlessly.

“I bet you think about me hmm?” she hummed and started to climb on top of you. Taken aback by the movement you didn’t really react to anything she had just said. “I want to kiss you.” she whispered into your ear that was tinted red by now. You didn’t answer. “I’m gonna kiss you now, okay.” she leaned in, placing her pink lips on your red ones. It was sweet but turned desperate very quickly.

The blonde slept sweetly beside you that evening. The thoughts raced through your mind and none of them were making any sense. It was hard to think straight with Alessia next to you, that was what made things so complicated. But now that she was laying in your bed you couldn’t not have her there, you needed her.

Alessia started to stay over more and more, it became your new normal. Half of her closet was laying in yours and she even brought her favourite mug with her. You bought all her favourite foods so she would feel comfortable and she appreciated it, just not enough to stay with you.

You came home on a Thursday evening one day but Alessia was nowhere to be found. Normally she would be laying on your couch, watching some sappy Netflix show you refused to watch with her. A bowl of nuts in her hands she didn’t really like but it was a healthy snack so it would do. But the only thing you found on your couch was her blue hoodie. Well it was yours originally but she basically claimed it as hers now.

Putting your cold groceries away you walked towards Alessia’s front door. She had given you her spare key after leaving hers in her home, locking herself out for the second time. She had bought a keychain with it, a little Barca jersey with your name and number on it. You smiled down at the colourful jersey and opened the door.

Walking in you heard some laughter coming from the living room that you could describe in detail. It was a light living room with two big windows that were open at all times, she liked it that way. She bought a brown couch after you broke her beige one. You had gifted her a few plants to make the room a real living space but knew she didn’t really care for them so you’d come in and give them water.

The photo’s in her hallway were those of her mom, dad and brothers, who she adored so much. And even though she didn’t like to have pictures of herself in her home she had one of her and her best friend Ella after winning the Euros.

When you stepped into the living area you were a bit taken aback by the man sitting next to your Alessia. His left hand was draped over her shoulder, like it was the most normal thing. His right was resting on her thigh. Who was he?

You stood still, watching the pair until Alessia noticed you. Her eyes had gone wide. “Hey, what’re you doing here?” she asked carefully. You didn’t answer. “Luke, this is my teammate, and well, this is my boyfriend Luke.” she introduced you and stalked towards your frozen form.

Boyfriend? You thought..

Alessia gave her boyfriend some weak excuse and walked you back to your apartment. You were in your own home again, a safe place. When Alessia started to talk again you cut her off. “I- you have a boyfriend? I thought we had.. something?” you looked almost lost to her. “Well, you thought wrong. Whatever you thought we had, we didn’t.” she said without any emotion behind her eyes, like she hadn’t spent the whole of last week in your house, in your bed, wearing your hoodie.

She left your house like nothing had happened.

Were you really that stupid, did you really think she’d like you. You had created this whole other reality, one where she’d actually like you and wanted to be with you.

You kept to yourself even more now. Alessia had gotten you out of your shell to some extent but now you had crawled back in again. Every moment you weren’t training or playing football you were at home but it didn’t feel like home anymore. It wasn’t as empty as it was when it arrived but it felt like it. The life had gone away and that’s not something you can fix with a few overpriced paintings and some weird cactus.

You couldn’t eat dinner without Alessia, you couldn’t watch horrible movies without Alessia and you just couldn’t sleep in a bed without Alessia.

It was the one time you decided to go out and drink that she came over to talk to you again. She acted like nothing had ever happend, like it was back to normal again, like she had slept in your bed the day before. But you liked it, craved it even. You had longed for Alessia to come back again and save you from yourself.

So she ended up in your bed and stayed long enough for you to fall asleep. But not long enough for you to wake up to her scent or her sleepy blue eyes and messy blonde hair.

It went on like that, she came home with you for the night and you forgot about all the things she had done to you and you woke up to an empty bed. You did feel bad for the Luke guy, well you did in the beginning but somewhere along the way you started to lose that sympathy.

You were mad. Angry. He could drive her to training and hold her hand out in public. He could kiss her on the streets and wake up to her snuggled next to him. He could have all those domestic little moments and gestures you longed for. It wasn’t fair.

Alessia had prepared dinner for the both of you and you were watching a movie when you felt the need to talk to her about this whole situation. “Lessi, i really like you. I want you and i to be together because i love you.” there, you said it. Alessia didn’t look at you, she stared blankly at the movie infront of her. You reached for the distraction playing on the television and paused it but she still wouldn’t look you in the eyes.

“I love you.” you repeated again, hoping for a response. She sighed, “Look, i don’t know what you think we are but we aren’t that. I don’t know how many times i have to tell you this but i have a boyfriend and you’re just there for a quick fuck. That’s all. You’re not special just because your sister has won a few trophies. I can’t do anything about the fact that you’re fucking lonely but leave me out of it.” she hissed.

You just said you loved her, for the first time. You handed her your fucking heart and she stomped on it like it was nothing. Alesia knew your relationship with your sister was complicated and being in her shadows was something that hurt you the most in this world, but yet she brought it up. You’d told her everything you never dared to say out loud and she used it to damage you even more. She is your whole world but to her you’re a ‘quick fuck’.

You were hers but she’d never be yours

“Please go away.” you asked her, tears threatening to escape your tired glossy eyes.

You were left alone in your apartment and the loneliness was more torturous than ever. The fucking lasagna Alessia had made you had turned cold and you looked at the wooden table infront of you. There was a picture of you and Alexia framed, Alessia had printed it out to make you feel more like home but it only made you miss it more, especially now.

Looking at your phone you opened your chat with your sister. You hadn’t texted her in about a month, the last text being about your mothers birthday that you couldn’t attend.

You needed her, you needed you sister to protect you. You needed her to protect you from the sun and to place you in her shadows again. For once it was all you desired.

A/N let me know what you think of the fic!! Also, i don’t know if i should write a second part and if or how i should end up Alessia and R together. I could make R fall in love with someone else too??

[scrompsautobotsrchives]

Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee

Part 1 of the many more rewrites to come, This will allow me to make them the very best that they can be. Word count:1.5K

It's official !! You walked out of the DMV as proud as you can, you had officially gotten your license to drive. Your dad was super duper proud of you. He knew you would ace it after a few goes. Soon the day after your 16th birthday, he kept a deal with you, If you managed to get good grades before the summer started. He would help you get your first car.

You made it to the used car dealership. God, there are so many options to choose from. What do you pick first?

"Hello welcome to mirage automotives !!" The dealer greeted you and your dad.

"Hi, What would be the best starter car for a kiddo that had just gotten their license ??" He smirked at you playfully.

"Dad" You grumbled, turning slight pink.

"That's perfect. We do have some very good Toyota Corolla's..." The dealer tried to sweeten the deal.

But they didn't quite scream take me home, They were all pretty av. But as you walked by, you came across a bright yellow colour. It pierced the side of your eye. Looking over your eyes were in a little state of wonder, A 1977 Chevrolet Camaro.

You went over and got a proper look on the inside, this was almost practically in mint condition, How long has it been in here ??

Your dad saw you and slightly grimaced, he would know these types of cars would be super expensive.

"Y/n ?? You sure you don't want to look at some of the Ford's ??"

"Could we take a look at this ??" You looked up at him with soft pleading eyes.

"You sure ?? I know you kids want cool cars but... Don't you want something sturdy ??"

"I know But it's just a look"

So he let you do your own thing, Wow the being inside the car was even better than the outside. Oh this was talking your language.

The dealer saw you two and strutted over. "She's a beaut ain't it ??"

"She is" You smiled

"Tell you what, cause you gotten your license, $2000" He offered.

You looked at the dealer and your dad, Please !!!!!!

Your dad could only chuckle, oh alright, for his kiddo.

Once the paperwork was all sorted, he happily handed you the keys and you were officially on your way.

"Thank you Dad... thank you so much !!" You had a beaming smile.

"You better not ding this car up" He playfully chuckled and ruffled your head.

"I won't"

You soon began the drive out of the parking lot, making your way back home. The drive was as smooth as butter. You then reached over and tried to turn on the radio, but it started to act strange... it whirred and scratched, jumping stations.

"Weird" You turned it off.

"If that guy ripped me off..." Your dad frowned slightly.

"I'm sure he didn't, It might just need to be upgraded. Besides the car works is what matters the most" You smiled, trying to reassure him.

He smiled a little. "You're right, it is, thank goodness for that"

And so over the summer, you began to perform various upgrades and much-needed maintenance to the car. It was honestly so much fun. Your whole summer was practically this car, and soon you put the final piece to the puzzle. A brand new radio, hopefully, it'll work... But even when school finally started, you were puzzled by the radio still scratching and whirring all over the place. Not only that, new problems started to arise, The pedals would sometimes not work, gears would change, and even the speedometer was all over the place.

So before school, you took it back to the dealership to ask some questions.

"Hey hi, umm I bought this car last summer and I've done a good amount of upgrades to it, but it seems to be having some issues ??"

"What seems to be the issue ??" The mechanic wiped his hand and looked over the car.

"The radio is just jumping without me turning the dial, The pedals get stuck, Gears change and the speedometer just goes..." You mimicked how it went.

"I'll take a look at it"

You handed him the keys and waited outside the shop, about half an hour later he came back to you with your car.

"Everything looks fine on our end." he handed you back the keys.

Over time, you were just getting more and more frustrated, more problems were starting to arise and you were on the brink, One afternoon, you came back to the car after school and turned the ignition to start it. Nothing... again... nothing, third times a charm, it worked but the speedometer was wonky yet again.

You groaned and began to bang on the dashboard in frustration. "What's wrong with you !!!" You shouted at the top of your lungs.

But then... the engine stopped.

Wait... hang on... cars were not meant to do that.

You frowned as you watched the radio begin to flick a few stations before playing a snippet of a song. "It's nothing wrong with me..."

"What the..." Your car was haunted.

The radio scratched again, playing more strung-together dialogue. Was it... Trying to talk to you ??

Not bad kid..." It said once you figured it out.

You tried to calm yourself and looked around, before back at the radio. "What are you ??" You spoke hesitantly.

"I am... from space !!" It scratched again.

"An alien ??"

An audio of applause was playing. Holy shit... an alien car.

"Why are you here..."

But before the alien car could answer that, you jolted at the sound of something hitting the windscreen, a cup of not-so-nice liquid. Courtesy of your bully.

"Missed a spot L/n" He laughed as he fist bumped his friends.

You growled and flipped him off before the radio began to scratch and play an audio from over the summer, it was your voice telling them off... what in the Ai is this !!

But this riled the bully up, and he walked over to try and get you out, before the car soon began to start and drive on its own, revving out of the parking lot and on the road.

"Shit shit !!!!!!" You tried to hang on from all the drifts and turns as the bully and his friends chased you. Ok, you were gonna be sick. Soon you arrived at an abandoned building after making a different turn, hopefully, they wouldn't find you... oh, come on !!

His friends quickly got you out before you could do anything and sealed off any exits. "You think you're a tough one aren't you l/n ??" Your bully smirked before punching you in the gut.

This went on for a little while, and the alien car saw this time after time after time since school started, he was saddened that no one stood up for you, hence why he did what he did earlier.

So It revved its engine super loudly, scaring the bullies. He went over to the car and ripped the door open, only to find no one inside it... then how...

Suddenly the door slammed shut on his fingers, making him scream out. "Goddamn it !!"

You watched as his friends tried to get his fingers out of the door but it didn't seem to budge until the door swung open knocking them back. But then came the most strange thing of all. The car soon began to shift and transform, massive hands pushing against the ground, it's body rearranging and coupling to stand tall in a new format.

Your bullies friends soon bolted, fuck this shit, they didn't sign up for it.

The alien soon then shifted his arm into what looked like an arm canon. Aiming it at the bully who was now crying.

"Leave... them... alone..." It talked through the radio.

"Screw you !!" It yelled at the alien before it revved up, the arm cannon soon began to hum and glow. "Alright alright !! I'll leave them alone !!"

The arm cannon soon stopped and shifted back into a hand, But just for good measure, you saw the oil filter lid open up and pop out, soon spraying oil all over your bully. He had enough, soon he ran back to his car and drove off.

"Hasta lavista baby" The radio scratched the familiar Arnie dialogue.

You got up slowly and looked up at it... this was crazy... and it stood up for you... It soon looked at you, making you stand back... but it was a more soft look, like it was happy to see you.

"Who are you ??"

It's radio scratched. "My name... is... bumblebee" He whirred softly after.

"Bumblebee..." You started to twitch a smile.

He then did a few boxing punches while the radio scratched "I float like a butterfly and sting like a bee" He smiled at you again.

"Thank you..."

You reached out your hand, to which he responded by placing his palm over your hand, In this moment... a friendship was secured.

Taglist: @callofdudes

[cottonlemonade]

First Date

word count: 1180 || avg. reading time: 5 mins.

pairing: University AU!Hinata x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff

warnings: a whole lot of awkwardness, also a lot of focus on hands 🧐

request: hello, I'l be getting a 15 and 25 for me and... Hinata Shoyo! it's our breakfast while we study 🥰 (i hope i ordered right 😅) || fluffy, members of the same club, first date with crush Hinata

After days and weeks and months of dancing around each other, trying to see who could blush harder and exasperating the entire volleyball club with your awkwardness towards one another, Hinata had finally worked up the courage to mumble and stutter, in an almost inaudible whisper, an invitation to a late night movie. Said invitation had been accepted immediately, a little too loudly, because the pounding of your heart had drowned out any surrounding noises and you wanted to make damn sure he heard your answer.

So he had picked you up at 9 pm the following night, trying to swallow the lump in his throat when he saw the little skirt and cozy sweater you had decided to put on for the occasion. It was already hard enough during practice to not just squish you at every opportunity. Your round cheeks and tummy always looked so inviting.

You had smiled at each other, croaking out shy hellos, and made your way to the movie theater. The streets surrounding campus were mercifully empty, a few strolling couples here and there or someone going one last round with their dog for the night.

Not knowing what to do with your hands you had one clutching your scarf at your chest, the other on the strap of your purse. Hinata was equally nervous, first swinging his arms stiffly on either side, then settling for putting his gloved hands in the pockets of his jacket.

After about 15 minutes of silent walking in which you tried to find a good conversation starter, Hinata said “I’m glad it’s not raining.”, which made you laugh and him look at you a little alarmed.

“I’m sorry, I was just really trying to come up with anything to say and I think I completely forgot how to talk to people.”

He let out a breath, a small cloud forming before him in the cold air, and gave you his signature sunshine smile.

“I have been trying for the past three blocks to think of anything that wasn’t weather-related!”, he confessed.

“No, weather is genius. So simple, so elegant!”

You both burst into slightly hysterical laughter, letting out some of the nervous tension you had been feeling.

From there on out talking came pretty easily, covering such topics as traffic and tomorrow’s weather and even daring into such juicy material as studying, and in no time you arrived at the movie theater.

Hinata, ever the gentleman, paid for the tickets, while you offered to pay for drinks and popcorn.

You settled into two empty seats somewhat near the back. Nervously you looked around. There were a surprising amount of couples here at this hour, all of them, without exception, busy staring annoyingly dazed into each other’s eyes.

When the movie finally started you had no idea what kind of protocol to follow. Should you lean against his shoulder? Was that too familiar? Should you keep your hand on the armrest for him to make his move? Should you take the initiative and take his hand?

When your fingers accidentally touched while you were going for popcorn you both flinched away, blush thankfully hidden in the dark auditorium.

The couple on screen just went through their second easily avoidable misunderstanding when you heard a small intake of breath next to you like someone bracing themselves and a moment later you felt Hinata’s fingers boldly touching yours. You looked over at him and even though you couldn’t make out much, you saw that his posture had gone stiff as if he was actually holding his breath. He gave you a small side glance, to check if he had really touched your hand and not a piece of chair. When you slowly snaked your fingers along his palm, he seemed to relax again and closed his hand around yours. This way you sat for the rest of the movie, now ignoring the popcorn and drinks. Neither of you wanted to let go, in case it would be too difficult to recreate.

When the main characters finally kissed, you could have sworn his thumb drew a gentle circle on your skin.

Neither of you dared to move as the credits started rolling. Should you keep your hand in his while you stood up? Should you put on your scarf one-handed? What were the logistics here, dammit!?

Your phone buzzed in your bag and on instinct you went to check, maybe it was urgent. But it was just a stupid spam notification and now you had let go of his hand and the spell was broken. Your fingers felt cold without his.

He cleared his throat and got up. “Everything okay?”, he asked.

You offered a bready smile and nodded.

Stepping out of a movie theater on any day was always an unpleasant experience. Tonight an icy breeze was dancing around your legs, only protected by pantyhose and thick socks, making you shiver. Your jacket was more fashionable than warming and to make up for it you pulled your scarf tighter, almost cutting off your air supply and then struggling to make it even. But in the next moment Hinata grabbed the ends to fix it, double wrapping it around you twice, his ears very pink.

“Thank you.” With an internal deep breath, you took his hand, decisively entwining your fingers with his, a tingling sensation burning where you touched.

He laughed nervously, adjusting the adorable baby blue wool hat on his fiery hair.

With every step he took, holding your hand, he seemed to gain more confidence, getting even a little giddy. “You know, I was so distracted by our talk about the weather that I haven’t even told you how pretty you look tonight.”

Your cheeks hurt from grinning and you looked away. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”

He squeezed your hand. The sensation of his touch mixed with the scent of peppermint emanating from his jacket, made you feel dizzy again. How did normal people deal with this?

Wrapped in a conversation about the movie, you didn’t even notice how far you had walked already. The closer you came to your dorm, the more you both slowed your pace, wanting to draw out the night as much as possible.

Coming to a halt in front of your door, he turned to you. “I could really get used to this.” He looked down to your hands and so did you, now witnessing him drawing slow patterns where his thumb rested. You drank in every new prickle, every new shiver and thrill it was sending down your spine.

You felt your mouth getting dry, “So could I.”.

He took half a step closer.

“I had a super awkward but great time tonight.”

Your mind went fuzzy. And you giggled again. Get it together!

“Me too. I would love to do it again.”, your voice sounded dry and scratchy in your ears.

For a moment you both just stared at each other, unsure, weighing the situation. Again you could hear that slight intake of breath before he leaned in to kiss you.

art: ＠赤慵灯 on douyin.com

a/n: thank you so much to the anon who request this soft prompt with our favorite tangerine! I hope you enjoyed it and don’t worry, you did everything right 🙂‍↕️🌟

[callmeby-mylastname]

shattered glass

warnings:angst,Mindy being silly, not entirely proof read(sorry guys)

summary:a beautifully blissful relation quickly ruined by five words.

A/N:oh boy has it been wild, i am sorry for not being able to do any requests but i should be back now. Apologies if you don’t even want this anymore but i’ll be putting out fics little by little however all requests will be done soon, once again sorry guys.

________________________________________

Three months. Three months of sneaky touches,secret kisses,lousy excuses to get some privacy. And yet no one knows that you and Tara have been in love the whole time.

“I know your secret Y/N.”

Or maybe they do.

The group are currently at Tara and sams apartment having their weekly movie marathon. And here you are under the shadow of Mindy Meeks as she is currently confronting you on a ‘secret’.

“Wha-what? Secret?pfffft. I Have absolutely no secrets, i am a very honest woman.” You awakardly giggled as Mindy was sill glaring into your soul.

“Oh?so we’re playing dumb? Let me sign it out”

“You, plus, woman-“ you already hated where this was going and so did Tara by the worried glances she kept sending you and her fidgeting hands.

Of course you loved Tara but there are countless reasons why no one can know. For starters, sam does not like you and you are terrified of sam.

“Admit it Y/L/N, you used my excellent movies knowledge to flirt with blonde in film”

Wait.what.

To say a confusing amount of emotions were running through you would be an understatement. On one hand you are overjoyed she infect does not know about you and Tara, however… you would debate your film skills are better than Mindy and of course most importantly you did NOT flirt with the girl in your film class.

“I-im-.what?’ You rather smoothly stuttered out.”Clara? You know one of the prettiest girls in school, not to mention BIG crush on you’

You take a quick glance over at Tara who does not look like the happiest girl in the world with this information.brilliant.

“Please the day Y/N gets a girlfriend is the day the word ends” sam ever so handsomely chimes in, shes sat over near the kitchen island sipping a glass of water.

“Oh no, you’d be surprised Y/N may be a nerd but she actually bags” chad continues, if you do say so yourself make the matter so much better.

You feel Tara’s jealousy radiate off her like she was just hit by a nuke and you were the giga counter.

“I left my phone in my room” without another word Tara stands up from the settee and beelines towards her room.

The group share their looks of concerned glances.

sighing you stand up “ill go check on her” and with that you’re walking right after Tara. blissfuly missing the switch from confusion to the most grinch looking grin coming from Mindy as she watches your figure walk after her.

You softly knock three times, Tara swiftly opens the door locking eyes with you.”hey”you sheepishly slime. “’bags’ huh?” She quotes.

“My love you know how chad is, i only have eyes for you i promise.” You cup her cheeks.

“Ill make sure of it” she grins pulling you into her room, making sure to close the door behind you.

It had been hours since you’ve been able to kiss eachother and it shows because neither of you realised Mindy standing at the door absolutely gobsmacked.

“Oh my actual like god,like jesus can strike me down i Knew it.” hearing Mindys voice you and Tara immediately pulled away. “Mindy listen you cant tell anyone please i-“ and abruptly Tara was cut off with Mindy running to tattle to the rest of the group.

“Woah Mindy you good?’ Sam questions noticing the girl.

“Y/N and Tara are dating” she blurts out just in time for you and Tara to run into the room.

Remember that nice,cold refreshing glass of after sam was drinking? Well it’s currently shattered on the floor landing right beside her jaw.

“Tara.room.now” and she’s storming off. Tara give you a gentle squeeze and runs off fete er sister.

“Ill,just ehm. Ill clean the glass” chad awkwardly runs off. Mindy is facing you, a look of concern mixed with regret, “hey,im sorry i didnt think-“ “no. no you didnt Mindy,im going home”

And with that you’re gone.

It had been weeks since then,chad keeps telling you how sorry Mindy is and Tara has ben completely avoiding you.and trust you were feeling the effects of her absence, you had tried your best to talk to her.

Walking up to her in school?walked past. texting?.ignored. calling?blocked,

It was gone,the most beautiful thing you both had tried desperately to protect ripped away because of a silly mistake.

taglist

request by - @ijustlovemaths (i know it’s been months i’m so sorry bro💀)

[aviiarie]

“𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐆𝐎 𝐅𝐀𝐑.” — feat. oikawa tooru.

synopsis. the night before he leaves for argentina, tooru visits you one last time.

✦ contents. title is from 'you're gonna go far' by noah kahan. platonic. reader + oikawa are best friends. gn!reader. angst, but with a hopeful ending. 1.8k words.

✦ notes. making my haikyuu debut with angst <3 this one is kinda bittersweet ngl, i made myself sad writing it.

You don’t need to open the door to know whose hand is knocking. 

Two quick raps, a half-second pause, and one more for good measure. He has knocked on your door the exact same way, ever since you were in elementary school and he was begging you to come play volleyball. Over the years, that even rhythm would sound every single morning, right before you rushed out of the house to walk together to class.

He’s no stranger to your home. If he wanted, he could fish out the spare key under the doormat and enter as he pleased, without so much as a second glance from your parents. With the amount of time he spent with you growing up, it was as if he was another member of the family; just a typical annoying brother, who happened to live a few houses down.

But it had been a whole two weeks since you’d seen, or even spoke to him. His presence was that of a stranger, an unfamiliar guest, a distant relative. He could only knock, and hope you weren’t still upset enough to ignore him completely.

The traces of anger still linger in your chest, but you turn the handle anyway to find him shivering on your porch, clothes soaked from the rain.

He’s grown a lot from that snot-nosed child who showed up at your door every second weekend. He is taller, for starters, and his body has filled out with muscle. The baby fat in his cheeks was chipped away, leaving him with that perfectly sculpted face that had his classmates fawning over him. A charming smile and a wink from his soft, sparkling eyes would have anyone going mad.

Yet those eyes, the ones that would melt the heart of his fangirls, were nowhere to be seen. Instead, they looked red and puffy, like he’d been crying before he arrived.

He never cried, not unless it was something serious.

“Can we talk?” Tooru asks, his voice oddly quiet. Maybe it’s the rare vulnerability in his eyes, or maybe it’s the fact that you’ve never really been able to refuse him, but you step aside to let him in without a second thought.

Wordlessly, he takes his place on your couch, as you fetch him a towel to dry his clothes, and poured two glasses of water. Each action is taken in complete silence, other than the opening and closing of cupboards and clinking of glass. Tooru watches you as you move from room to room, sitting with his back straight and hands folded neatly over his lap. By the time you join him, placing a glass in front of him and keeping the other in your hands, his hands are curled into fists, and his shoulders are almost imperceptibly shaking.

It’s awkward, it’s stifling, and it’s utterly miserable. You’re unused to his presence being something that incites such discomfort, when he was your shoulder to cry and ear to listen to all of your problems throughout your teen years.

One argument. That was all it took, for your comfortable silences and soothing familiarities to be ripped away.

“I’ve packed up my house.” Tooru says, breaking the silence. “Everything I own–everything that’s important, that is. I’ve been putting it off, but I’m leaving tomorrow, so... I had to get it done.”

“Oh yeah?” You mutter. “I’m sure that was hard, picking which trophies you wanna take with you.”

He laughs, a weak sound. “The important stuff, I said.”

“Didn’t you also say that winning was the most important part of life?”

“Hey, don’t use my middle school self’s words against me, you’re better than that, [Name]!” Tooru whines. And for a moment, it’s easy to forget why you were upset in the first place, and slip back into that back-and-forth teasing that you were so used to. But it only takes one look into his bloodshot eyes to remember, and the laughter dies in your throat.

You turn your attention to your water, ignoring the way he stiffens. “Yeah, well you’re good at suddenly changing your mind, aren’t you?”

There it was. That awkward silence.

Tooru was at a loss for words, alternating between staring at you with his lips pursed, ready to say something, before changing his mind and looking down at his feet. You sit at his side, idly taking sips from your drink and ignoring the simmering tension. It’s unbearable, the feeling of conflict between you. Unbearable, and unfamiliar.

“I know you’re angry at me.” He blurts out suddenly.

Your hands freeze, right before the glass reaches your lips. “I’m not angry at you.”

“You don’t have to lie to me.”

“I’m not angry at you.” You repeat, placing the glass down with a little more force than is necessary. “You’re chasing your dreams. I’d be a pretty lousy friend if I was angry about that.”

“But you are angry,” Tooru prompts, leaning forward.

“I… Yes, I am angry.” You admit. “I’m angry that I found out about this two weeks before you planned to uproot your entire life and move to the other side of the world. I’m angry that even though you’ve been thinking about this for so long, you haven’t told me anything. I’m angry that I’m apparently the last person you’ve told–”

You cut yourself off, and take a deep breath to steel the stirring emotions turning in your stomach. “I’m not angry at you, I’m just angry at the way you handled this. That’s all.”

Looking at him in the eye is too difficult, so you look at your hands instead, clenching them into fists in your lap.

“I just don’t–I don’t understand why. Why didn’t you want me to know?” Your words wavered, thick with emotion. “Did you want to leave me behind that bad?”

“No!” Tooru cries. “You’re my friend, of course I didn’t want to leave you!”

“Then explain it to me! Explain why, when you were researching Argentinian volleyball teams six months ago, you never thought to tell me you were thinking about leaving Japan?”

You're both yelling now, but you can't bring yourself to care about waking up the rest of your house. You only care about him, and the tattered state of your friendship.

“You wanna know the real answer? I was scared.” Tooru chuckles bitterly, raking his fingers through his air.. “I was terrified, because you’re one of my best friends and I didn’t know how you would react. Telling Iwa-chan was easy, a walk in the park compared to telling you. At least I knew he would never try to stop me, but if you…”

There is a pause, and a beat of silence before he continues. “If you asked me–truly, truly asked me to stay, then I don’t think I would say no. No matter how suffocating it is here, I would deal with it if you needed me. And I guess, part of me was scared you would, and I didn’t know what I would do if I forced myself to give up like that.”

You stare at him, wide-eyed. What could you say to that, the admission that he would forfeit his chance to pursue his goals, if you tried hard enough? There was a stir in your chest, a sickly, selfish thought worming into your mind:

What if you did?

The idea is followed almost immediately with a wash of guilt, bile rising in the back of your throat. You hate yourself for even considering the idea, but you can’t deny how badly you want him to stay. Part of you yearns for your high school days to stretch on a little longer, if only for a few more months of cheering on Aoba Johsai during their volleyball matches and celebrating with Tooru and Iwaizumi afterwards.

At some point, you had gotten ramen together for the last time, without even realizing it. You should have savoured the moment; captured the memory in your mind and kept it like a polaroid in the back of your head.

“I want to stay with you, I really do.” Tooru says quietly, not meeting your eye. “But I want this even more. We’re not kids anymore; I need to move on.”

You inhale sharply.

He was right. You weren’t kids. You couldn’t keep trailing behind him, always at his heels or by his side. As much as you loved having him close to you, you loved the idea of him thriving even more. In the end, that is all that matters.

“I know,” Your eyes are fully glossed over with tears, but you steel yourself enough to meet his gaze. “And I would never want to hold you back. Your happiness means more to me than anything else, so if this… if this is going to make you happy, then you have all my support.”

“Do… you mean that?” He asks, searching your expression for any sign of doubt.

You punch him in the shoulder lightly. “You’ll always have my support, dumbass.” 

The jab doesn't faze him at all; if anything, he looks overjoyed.

“Thank you,” Tooru’s words are choked up, but there’s a clear weight that’s been lifted off his shoulders. “Thank you, I couldn’t leave without hearing that.”

Of course he couldn’t.

No wonder he looked a mess when he arrived. You were willing to bet the guilt of an unresolved argument between the two of you was eating him alive. It wasn’t like it was any easier for you; your own guilt began to stir at the thought of him tossing and turning, unable to get the idea of your disapproval out of his head. 

“You’re gonna go far, okay? The world's gonna know the name Oikawa Tooru, starting setter. And when you’re up there, on Argentina’s best volleyball team, winning game after game–” You flashed him a smile. “Make sure to remember your best friend, okay?”

“Yeah,” He grins. “I’ll thank Iwa-chan for the support–”

“Excuse me–”

“And you, of course.” Tooru’s smile widens, and he reaches out to pull you into a side hug. 

“Yeah, yeah.” You grumble, but you’re not able to hold back a small smile of your own. “Make sure to win lots of games while you’re over there, okay?”

Tooru scoffs, the same indignant noise he’s made ever since middle school, when you told him he better win his games or else. It was always an ‘or else’; ‘or else’ he would have to buy snacks on the way home, ‘or else’ you would tell his little fangirls that he tripped and fell into a pole that morning, ‘or else’ you wouldn’t go with him to that amusement park you’ve both been eyeing.

Whether the silly threats made any difference on his performance, you’ll never know. All you know is this time, next time, and every time after that, there’s nothing holding him back from giving every game his all.

“It’s a deal.”

© aviiarie 2024. do not copy, repost, translate or use my work to train ai

[minkdelovely]

love and power

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chapter six

“the more that you give away the more that you have.”

Alastor x Fem!Reader ; MDNI 18+ ; [y/n] used sparingly ; Alias in Hell is Sylvie

tags/warnings: diet codependency (doesn’t quench the thirst), mentions: blood play; biting, slow burn eventual: smut

word count: 3.2k

author’s note: don’t get too excited over the tags lol but we’re kicking things into gear cherished ones. i’m unsure how many chapters are left but i’d like to aim for ten (total; i’m low-key flying by the seat of my pants) but fire is starting to catch as we close in on our journey. thank you for sticking with me on this, i hope it’s been as fun for you as it has been for me and that my gratitude is properly conveyed in this chapter ❤️‍🔥

prelude ; chapter one ; chapter two ; chapter three ; chapter four ; chapter five ; chapter six ; chapter seven ; chapter eight ; chapter nine ; chapter ten: part one ; chapter ten: part two

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Watching Alastor leave the hotel without you felt… strange. When he passed through the door you half expected to feel that invisible tugging at your neck, beckoning you to follow, but it never came. Leaving you unsure how to deal with the level of disappointment you felt at its absence. All you hoped was that he couldn’t see it in your eyes when he turned to give you a final smile before walking down the entrance stairs.

It had turned out to be quite the morning, just not in the way you had expected. Alastor told you about how your afternoons were to be spent over his breakfast, not the least bit apologetic for springing it on you at the last minute in spite of knowing since yesterday. A couple things clicked into place with this knowledge, like your conversation at the cafe. Just as you had suspected, what you had ended up talking about had nothing to do with the important things he had sat you down for.

That’s what he meant when he said he had a busy morning, you thought as you watched him pick at his food, looking less and less like the wraith you had seen the night before. You had used the phrase duality of man as a joke in your mortal life, but Alastor set quite a bar for it. Despite the short amount of time you’ve spent with him, you really had managed to learn a lot about him. A goal of yours that seemed to be… shifting.

What had been born from a place of survival was now skirting the lines of fascination. A discomfort settled in you as you realized this, knowing that you were drifting into dangerous territory. Developing a fascination — you couldn’t admit to another word yet — with Alastor wasn’t smart for a lot of reasons. He owned you, for starters. Not that you’d have ever been on even ground with someone of his status, but knowing you were literally at his beck and call… It was hard grappling with that. 

Your grandmother had been such a terror, the expectations she had of you impossible to obtain. Whether she blamed you for your mother’s death or if she would have treated you the way she did regardless was something you’d never know. But you thought you were done being pushed around and forced into boxes you didn’t fit when you went through with your plan to murder her. Turned a new leaf, as they say. 

Yet here you were, with not even a little bit of resentment towards your keeper. He annoyed you with his antics, sure, but you found yourself to be more fond of him than you had expected to be. Hell, you even took extra care making his bed every day despite knowing he didn’t sleep in it — it would’ve done no good to have him catching on that you knew he was just messing up the sheets. You were surprisingly reluctant to put his bed back in order this morning, wanting to preserve its state for as long as you could, burning the image of it to your memory. Even though they were still relatively neat, the slept-in sheets were a peek behind the curtain; another facet of him for you to collect.

The seemingly ever-present lump in your throat creeped up again, sending a tingling jolt through your body at this thought. Fondness, fascination. It had been a very long time since you had attached words like these to someone, and even then it wasn’t something you felt very often applied to anything past friendship. What little friends you had, anyway, preferring a small circle over a plethora.

You had experienced some romance in your life, but nothing longstanding. Flings might be a better word, comprised mostly of the usual dinner and a movie followed by some backseat fumbling. Living with your grandmother didn’t exactly present the option of bringing someone back to your room. And it was fun while it lasted but the payoff had never felt worth it in the end. You were more grateful for the distraction it provided from home than anything else. A lot of the time it just felt like another personality to juggle that you simply hadn’t the energy for.

But was this really something you were beginning to feel towards the Radio Demon? Or were you merely clinging to the twisted sense of stability he represented? Wanting to struggle against him to maintain as much autonomy as you could, or surrender? 

The memory of how Alastor had held your face in his hand surfaced then. How his eyes had been heavy with a desire you couldn’t pinpoint, the way your skin burned under the pad of his thumb. How, somewhere under the fear and exhaustion, you had been thrilled watching him taste the blood off your face. Your chest was tight again, breath shallow as your fingertips ghosted over that spot on your cheek.

Fuck.

You wanted to rip your hair out, the desire to run after him growing stronger with every step you saw him taking towards the city battling against your own self-worth. You wouldn’t go after him of course, not only because it would be pathetic but you knew he would be disappointed and quite possibly repulsed if you did. Neither were things you wished to be associated with in his opinion of you or yourself. Though in this moment, all you could feel in regard to yourself was disgrace. 

If someone had told you any of this a week ago, you would’ve balked at the idea. Actually wanting to please and follow Alastor around like a well-trained dog? Until quite recently you had looked forward to any time you could finally spend alone, but here you were, apparently counting the seconds until he returned home. 

Get a fucking grip, you scolded yourself, inhaling deeply through your nose as you forced yourself to make your way back upstairs to change clothes.

Group activities would be starting in an hour, and it wouldn’t do any good to be fretting over whatever Alastor was up to. Above your pay grade, remember? Remembering what a snide bitch he could be soothed you, the irritation you felt towards his words from earlier reassuring. Though your meaning couldn’t be more different from his, you wanted to believe that you weren’t totally hopeless. The erratic heartbeat under your ribcage begged to differ.

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Alastor never imagined that he’d be sick of heading to Cannibal Town, but there was a first time for everything. It was a novelty he might have actually appreciated under different circumstances. Valentino aside, his days were beginning to feel a bit too repetitive for his liking. Perhaps this meeting could end up being a blessing in disguise, a way for him to defuse some of the restlessness he was feeling.

He had to admit, your absence was… noticeable. Not that you could ever take its place, but having the option to take your arm had been a nice substitute for his microphone when his hand was feeling empty. As if to taunt him, his fist clenched with a nervous twitch, reminding him there was nothing to do with it other than keep it behind his back. Irksome.

The way you lingered around him before his departure hadn’t gone unnoticed, either, something he was unsure you wanted him to know or not. Though there was nothing you could really hide from him, not anymore. Alastor was now very in tune with the way your scent changed based on how you were feeling. It had been particularly strong and floral today, to the point where it still burned his nostrils with a pleasant ache. A keepsake, of sorts. How generous.

Even without that, it was obvious you had wanted to join him on this excursion. There was a sincerity in your ever-pouty face that was actually quite endearing. Still not a fan of frowns, Alastor was beginning to understand that it was your mask, intentional or otherwise, just as the smile was his. His original goal to strip it from you would probably never come to fruition with this revelation and he sighed, though not from disappointment. It was nice to be kept on one’s toes, after all, and he had already made the decision to find new ways to provoke you.

That’s not to say that he didn’t still wish to see what was hiding underneath that gray cloud you took shelter under. The few breakthroughs he’d glimpsed so far had been delightful. Getting you to murder someone wouldn’t work… though that wasn’t off the table. He’d just prefer you to want it; force wasn’t a measure he was willing to take in that regard, there was no satisfaction to be found in it that way. And so by extension, was getting you to indulge in a new eating habit. He hadn’t given up on that, either; he wasn’t lying when he said he thought you’d enjoy it under the right circumstance. 

Something came to mind and passed as quickly as it appeared, shocking him despite coming from some recess of his own imagination. The taste of blood was on his tongue from where he bit the inside of his own lip, and he relished the coppery tang, delight coating him thick as honey as he tentatively explored the thought. His ears twitched low as his horns grew just the smallest bit and he cleared his throat to calm down. Alastor wasn’t one to just lose his composure on the sidewalk.

Perhaps, he thought to himself, though with some hesitance. Alastor was always taken by surprise whenever his mind conjured up anything he considered to be salacious. But this sudden inspiration fell under same qualifications as his previous idea, if not under an even stricter sense. That was something you definitively needed to want, being it was something he very, very rarely desired to give. 

And what was it about you that made him want to? Clearly, some small part of him did. Had it just been too long and you happened to be an option now that this feeling was rearing its ugly head again? No. Alastor was too… picky to just choose someone out of convenience. He was unashamed to admit he had standards when it came to this. In fact, he felt the real issue at hand was that too many sinners didn’t, fucking anything that breathed with abandon.

His pulse jumped at the word: fucking. Was that even what he wanted? It would be enough just to have you taste him, bite into the flesh of his wrist and lap away at the blood that eagerly pooled to the surface. If you earned it, of course. As mentioned, his body wasn’t something he offered up on a whim to just anyone. But the thought of you enjoying it, unraveling at the feeling he hoped to inspire in you, your sullen face relaxed in the throes of pleasure in the taboo. His mind was racing now, running away with the fantasy as it so often did in these uncommon moments. 

What sounds could he illicit from you? He nearly bit through his tongue, thinking on the satisfaction it would bring to hear your voice, normally tinged with some level of sass, pleading and heady in his ears. How would you taste in his mouth — clean and tart, rich and sweet? What would you smell like, blooming under the touch of his mouth and hands? 

It wasn’t prudent of him to get swept up in this daydream, knowing the caveat to any of it being your willingness to partake. And he’d sooner face Adam’s axe again than ask, at least not without the inclination of acquiescence, which at this point was unknown to him. Uncharted waters.

Alastor hadn’t noticed that there was a sizable diameter of empty space between him and any other demon who happened to be walking by; rightfully threatened by the hungry look in his eyes, the tautness of his fanged smile, and the static that was crackling in the air around him as he approached the dry cleaners.

Thankfully he still had a bit of time to kill before Valentino arrived, needing every second he could get to center himself before their meeting. Were it not for his gloves, his clawed fingers would’ve easily punctured the soft skin of his palms, he was so wound up. But it was invigorating, this little idea of his, already feeling the ache ebb away as he shelved it for safe keeping. Only time would tell when he could dust it off.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

The afternoon had actually been… fun.

It had been a long time since you had experienced that, feeling a little ridiculous now as you lounged on your bed, thinking back on how nervous you had been to be roped into the daily activity with everyone. Charlie had obviously lead the charge, but the whole group had made you feel very welcome. Niffty had even sat next to you the entire time, her approval something you were unaware you were even wanting but now grateful to have. She was actually really charming.

Since it was your first time, it was mostly story-telling and introductions for your sake. It was clear they were a tight-knit bunch, and you found yourself hoping to find a place in their little circle. That seemed to be your theme for the day; seeing where you stand, fitting in. But it felt nice to open up, divulging bits and pieces of yourself to your housemates. You hadn’t realized how much you missed being part of a group, gossiping and sharing anecdotes. 

You told them about the accounting job you had, well-paying but boring all the same, which you didn’t think you minded at the time. Looking back, it really was just for a paycheck. There was no passion in your heart for it, and it was downright mayhem during tax season. Vaggie joked that she would be keeping this in mind when the need arose for bookkeeping, with you quipping back about cruel and unusual punishment.

A knock at the door interrupted your reverie, and you got up to answer it, opening your door to Alastor’s smiling face. The brief moment of butterflies you felt faded when you noticed the tired look in his eyes. You weren’t sure what mood you were expecting him to come back in, but you knew he had something on his mind. Beyond fetching you to perform chores — which he rarely did anyway, preferring that you came to him — what else would he stop by your room for than to deliver some kind of news?

He swept over you, no doubt picking your outfit apart all the way down to your bare feet. You were well aware that the cardigan and slip dress didn’t exactly fit into his definition of put together. Frankly, you were surprised Alastor didn’t force you to wear a corset under your uniform, a complaint you wisely kept to yourself for fear of giving him ideas. But for this, you couldn’t bring yourself to care, relishing the sparse opportunities you had to be in your own comfortable clothes; the v-shaped neckline of the dress allowing your poor décolletage to get some much-needed air. Besides, what could he really say? You were technically off the clock.

“May I come in?” he asked with a jarring sobriety, the absence of his radio filter giving you a chill. This wouldn’t be like the tête-à-tête you had this morning on the balcony. 

You simply moved out of the way, giving him the space to enter your room before closing the door behind you, keeping your attention on him as he stood with his back to you. Alastor’s shoulders moved as he took a breath, his expression concealed as his head fell back, looking to the ceiling as he exhaled.

He maintained this position as he spoke. “I’m afraid I must ask something of you, Sylvie. It won’t be dangerous, but it won’t be pleasant, either.”

There it was again, the illusion of choice. Why did he keep presenting things to you this way when he didn’t need to? Not that it upset you, it was a polite gesture after all, but well… He beckoned, you came running. Was it smart to be so willing to do his bidding? No. But after Angel talked a little about the way Valentino treats him — which he seemed to handle with a bravery you could only hope to have a portion of — you knew there was a level of safety that came with belonging to Alastor. Certain lines he simply wouldn’t cross out of duty to himself, resulting in a strange benevolence for you.

“What is it?” You were surprised at the calm in your voice. 

Alastor seemed to be too, his ear flicking at the sound before finally turning to look at you. The soft expression on his face sent blood rushing to your cheeks. You could almost mistake it for pride. Toward you. A burden you weren’t prepared to handle, apparently. A small sigh escaped him as he closed the gap between you and he absently picked at the shoulder of your cardigan, pinching the soft fabric in his fingers as he worked through what he was going to say next. For your part, you just tried to keep your breathing even and your hands to yourself. 

He released you, smirking without his usual venom but still with that strained look in his eye. The fraction of instinct you had that still worked told you that this wasn’t good, but you had a hard time letting that sink in the way it should, too distracted by the charge in the air between you.

“I met with Valentino today,” he said quietly, giving you a small, knowing smile as your brows knit together in concern. “He wants to meet you, in two days. As of right now that’s all it is but he’s reserved the right to make a final decision on what he wants once he speaks with you,” he practically choked on the words, anger nipping at the edge of his voice as he continued, “And there were certain… concessions that had to be made, given the circumstances. Proud as I am at what you did, I can also appreciate certain aspects of Valentino wanting reparation.”

You felt like a toddler being scolded for acting up in front of company, unable to stop yourself from looking away from him, embarrassment blending into your fear. He wasn’t wrong though, and you always had a feeling you would need to make up for what you did to Donny somehow. Meeting with Valentino was the least you could do, guilt already eating away at you for the position you had put Alastor in. No wonder he had been so upset last night…

“Will you be with me, at least?”

The question was out before you could stop it, the blush on your cheeks threatening to melt your face it was so hot with shame. Alastor huffed a laugh, the mischief returning to his eyes in a way that made you feel dizzy. 

“I’m afraid I don’t elaborate on stupid questions.”

Maybe it was the low timbre of his voice, or the familiarity of his smug grin when he knew he had denied you something. But the irritation you typically felt when he spoke to you this way was nowhere to be found, your brain practically empty with the exception of one thing. 

I’m so… fucked.

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tag list: @fairyv-ice, @wat4r, @midorichoco, @raynerrold, @krak-jj, @tremendoushearttaco

[imaginespazzi]

Another game down, another step closer to March (it's literally tomorrow guys) and like always, I have thoughts :)

Paige Bueckers: is insane

22 points on 90% NINETY PERCENT, NINE-ZERO PERCENT like y'all I don't think we even realize we're watching a once in a lifetime kind of efficient player. She's just- yeah she's just insane. Not a flash of passive P tonight AND she got to sit for a whole quarter? Yeah, this is HER season and everyone else is just along for the ride.

YEE FUCKING HAW ASH LET'S GO! I was actually a little concerned that first half because a) no one was helping P and b) Ash just looked like she was doing cardio out there but there's no energy like the energy a halftime buzzer beater can inject you. AND THE STEALS! Girlie been working on that defense and you love to see it.

My NFOY had a "quiet" 17 points which speaks to Sarah's maturity and her ability to just get a bucket. And the IQ is just so beyond her years; it's wonderful to see. That 3-ball isn't falling yet but TRUST it's going to and it's gonna be something special.

Ice finally gave me something. I still wanna see more but she was pretty god today. More than anything, I just loved seeing her hustle for those points. She boxed out well, made smarter decisions than usual. I see the progress and she's gonna get there (off the bench), I see the vision

Kaitlyn did what Kaitlyn does. I think we could use a little more from her but I think her presence is really solid. She made some questionable decisions tonight but I do think the Storrs environment which is unlike anything she's used to maybe played a factor.

Speaking of questionable decisions, KK made a fair few of them and reminded me of her freshman self. However, she also reminded me of the really great stuff she did her freshman year with a couple defense and offensive plays.

Jana didn't get as much playing time as I'd have liked her to get but the minutes she did get? Effective as hell and I can't wait for her to geting into the starting-lineup.

Morgan's a SHOOTER. And boy did we need shooting because 3's? Not our thing at all tonight.

Allie wasn't really a factor tonight but she also didn't feel like a burden so you really can't complain because her main job is to go out there, not be a liability, maybe make some things shake so that the starters can get their much needed rest.

Overall I don't think was a particularly great game. The first half was practically a Paige carry-job which is great for the agressive!P agenda but it's USF and I don't love that we were so dependent on her. The third quarter was pretty good (made up for the last one agianst BU) and the fourth quarter showed that we're still learning how to navigate without Paige. Again, its really early and the fact that we won by so much just shows how much talent we have and how high our floor is, which means out ceiling is waaaay higher.

Free. Throws. We don't get as many as we should as it is so please, please, please, make them.

Three point defense needs a fair amount of work.

Caroline is still wearing earplugs and I just wanna give the girl a hug.

Paige and Azzi finally got to sit to next to each other and immediately started yapping as if they don't do that all day?

[thaltro]

helloo ! ive been wanting to ask if you have any specific tips or things to focus on while writing characters with DID ! im not a system myself but psychology in general has been a topic that ive always been interested in and want to depict it to the best of my ability + i love your art and wish you the best ^^

Good question!

Writing about DID/OSDD is incredibly difficult- even I a system probably couldn’t do it, but I can give you some advice regardless. Obviously saying “research” is expected, but finding good research on it is hard. As always I recommend as a starter for understanding the fundamentals of the disorder : “The Haunted Self: Structural Dissociation and Treatment of Chronic Traumatization” just look that up and I’m sure you can find it on the internet archive or docdriod. As a rule of thumb don’t trust system tiktok, tumblr, carrds, or any personal account to get the majority of your information from just because there’s an incredible amount of misinformation (of course there’s plenty others on there who probably know what they are talking about, but I’d always recommend using credible peer reviewed sources.)

With the research disclaimer thing out of the way here’s a few points:

-It’s a trauma based disorder, everything is structured around trauma. Not just a singular trauma but repeated emotional, physical, and typically sexual trauma that is experienced under the age of 10 (You don’t need all three, just a lot of systems experience a mix of trauma) To write DID/OSDD right you should be able to write child traumatization accurately and be comfortable with writing it.

-There is a vast amount of different experiences with DID/OSDD. There are varying levels of amnesia, alter presentations, system structures etc. not all systems use plural terms, have names for alters, or have much personality differentiation between alters. The experience of a Osdd1a system will be different to a DID system, so you’d probably want to look into the specifics of those differences and stick to one type of system.

-Try to avoid misconceptions and DID tropes in media. The most obvious one I can think of is “the evil alter” trope, there’s quite a lot of demonization of the disorder so you have to be critical when viewing media depicting it (fuck the split movie).

-unless it’s apart of a character arc avoid the uncritical idea that alters are just their source. it’s healthy for them to branch out and expand from their baseline purpose and identity.

As for things I’d like to see in DID/OSDD rep it’d be:

-representing extreme denial

-loss of time

-source separation would be cool

-fusion and dormancy being mentioned

A lot of media hyper focuses on Alters when that is only one aspect of system hood. I think I’d be cool to look at the other symptoms.

But overall, it would be a really hard task to write a system especially without being one. I’m not saying it’s impossible but it’s easy to fall into misrepresentation even if it’s well meaning (it’s easy to do that even if a person is a system, that’s why I’m too scared to write it) If you are going to do it, do a very thorough amount of research before you develop an idea of a character. I know I sound really upset at the idea, I’m not I do really like the idea of representation- but DID/OSDD is such a stigmatized disorder that you have to be so so so careful not to add onto the stigma. I do believe it’s possible to do it right though! I wish you luck and thank you for the compliment.

[katelynnwrites]

You Look So Pretty (Pretty Like The Sun) | Sydney Lohmann

warnings: not proof read

word count: 2557

summary: after making your own name, you realise it's not enough because you are still missing your sunshine

a/n: i wasn't going to post this but i'm on a mission to leave all my bad writing behind in 2023 so here's part two of this fic

It’s with a certain amount of trepidation that you walk onto the Bayern Munich training pitch.

Both you and the facility have undergone a major change in the years that you have been away but one thing is the same.

You know when the love of your life is near.

It seems that the blonde can still sense your presence too because she looks up and visibly pales the second she sees you.

‘Sydney.’ You breathe but she shakes her head.

The German player’s eyes are wide and panicked.

You are torn between staying where you are, on the very edge of the pitch or making your way to her.

This is the closest you have been to her since the day she broke up with you.

Luckily or unluckily, your new manager spares you and calls your new teammates over so that you can meet them.

Seeing Magda and Pernille again is a welcome distraction.

The older women had practically adopted you as their own when you were at Chelsea and you sigh contentedly as they wrap you up in a hug.

‘I missed you two so much.’ You mumble.

‘I hope you’re prepared for dinner at our place tonight. You can tell us all about why you didn’t tell us you were coming to Munich.’ The Swede says.

Pernille gives her a fond swat, ‘Oh don’t sound so serious love.’

Conspiratorially, she turns to you and loudly whispers, ‘Magda just wants the chance to mom you again.’

You giggle at the defender’s immediate protests.

******

Meeting the rest of your new club teammates goes smoothly.

All except for one.

Magda and Pernille help with the introductions, easing you back into the Bavarian team.

For all your fame, you’re still shy so you are grateful for the help.

They’re not all new faces, most are familiar.

You grew up playing for the youth teams with Klara and Lea. Some others you know from international games or as opponents that you once played against in the Frauen Bundesliga.

It’s with laughter that you reunite with Lea, the older woman teasing you that you’re still shorter than her.

Your introduction does not last long but by the time you have properly met all of your new teammates, Sydney is nowhere to be seen.

And you hate how awful that makes you feel.

Maybe you didn’t make the right decision in coming back to Munich.

******

Sydney is still Sydney. That much you have come to realise. The blonde has grown up but at her core, she’s still who you fell in love with.

You are content to watch forever as she shines on everyone. There is never going to be anyone else like her. Sydney Lohmann is a singularity.

She shows up to training sessions just a fraction of a second early and drinks far too many coffees for her own good.

Her fancy footwork on the pitch puts everyone else to shame.

The sound of her laugh still makes you happy and her smile brightens up every room that she is in.

Unlike before, none of that is directed towards you.

These days, all she has for you is indifference and silence.

She doesn’t even look at you and from the only interaction you have had so far, the one from your introduction, the midfielder has made it clear that she doesn’t want you back at her club.

You try not to let it affect you or your performance.

The faking it till you make it must be working because you are all set to be a starter just two weeks after rejoining the Bavarian club.

******

Syd doesn’t start that particular game and it gives you an overwhelming sense of relief.

It’s already stressful enough to have to prove yourself good enough to start without adding on your standing with your former girlfriend.

You’re doing well against Köln and you’re proud of how you are adapting back to the German style of play, if you do say so yourself.

There is only about a half hour left of playing time when the blonde is subbed on.

She doesn’t look at you and you keep your gaze down.

Unfortunately, for her, her playing time is cut short. It is like a bad deja vu of her previous injury against Köln, a few years ago.

One second she’s jumping up for a header and the next she is on the ground, holding her ankle.

You hear her cry out and then you are sprinting.

Lina is already at her side and just before you reach her, you freeze.

Sydney doesn’t want you anymore.

So you stay away from her but just far enough that you can still see how she is.

It doesn’t look good.

The medics come on and it is agonising for you to have to listen to Syd’s pained whimpers and do nothing about it.

You are trying your hardest not to flinch when Lea comes up to you.

‘Go to her. She needs you even if she doesn’t know it yet.’ She quietly says.

‘Schülli…’

‘Go. I know you want to.’

Hesitantly, you approach the injured midfielder.

Sydney’s eyes are tear filled and when she sees you, she immediately stretches out her hand.

It is instinct for you to put your hand in hers.

‘You’re gonna be okay.’ You murmur soothingly and she closes her fingers around yours.

The blonde shuts her eyes, more tears escaping despite her best efforts.

You keep holding her hand until the medics signal that she needs to come off.

Your ex girlfriend cries even harder at that and you help her get to her feet.

The German woman stifles a whimper as she does so and you worriedly ask, ‘Do you want a stretcher?’

‘No! Please no.’

‘Okay. Lean on me then.’ You whisper and Syd nods.

She puts her arm around your shoulders and you wrap your arm around her waist, supporting her weight.

‘I got you.’ You assure her, as she limps towards the sidelines.

Once there, it is with great reluctance that you let her go, the medics taking over.

You look over at the bench where your manager is preparing the subs and you signal for you to be replaced.

‘I’m coming off too.’

‘No.’ The blonde snaps.

‘Syd this is not up for debate.’ You insist.

Your meaning and intentions are clear, making Sydney let out a frustrated noise.

‘No. You are going to stay on and be a star. Okay? Go be a star and play for us both.’

She squeezes your hand tightly, wanting you to know how much she means her words.

‘Are you sure?’

Your ex nods, ‘Go.���

‘Okay.’

Syd’s hazel eyes are filled with tears and she looks so vulnerable that you can’t help touching your lips to the side of her head.

‘I’ll score a goal for you. Promise sonnenschein.’

In running back onto the field, you miss the way she lets out a soft sob.

She doesn’t know if she cries harder because of the old nickname, the feel of your lips back on her skin or because of the way the pain in her ankle practically doubles once you are gone.

******

You keep your promise to the German midfielder.

Scoring not just one goal but two before the referee blows the whistle for full time.

Then you rush straight to the medical room where you had been told Sydney is.

You slow down, the clicking of your studs becoming quieter as you approach. Tentatively, you knock on the door before you open it.

Syd’s all alone, sitting on the bed with her knees drawn up to her chest.

Her injured ankle has been fitted with a moon boot and her face is pale.

‘Sydney?’ You ask softly.

‘Why did you come back?’

‘Because I wanted to check on you.’ You answer immediately.

The blonde scoffs, ‘Not here here but Munich.’

‘I don’t understand.’ You murmur even though your stomach drops because you understand perfectly.

Sydney’s eyes narrow with anger.

‘Don’t give me some bullshit answer. You were doing so well for yourself over in Barcelona so why come back? You left before so why return now?’

Her words are clipped, filled with more than just resentment.

You sigh. She still knows you too well.

‘You. I came back for you.’

Sydney’s face goes blank.

‘No. You came here to win the league. You have won the English and Spanish leagues. The Champions’ League and Euros too. This is just one more thing on your list.’

Wincing audibly, you take a step forward.

‘I came back for you. You and you alone Sydney.’

‘No.’ The blonde adamantly says, even as her bottom lip starts to wobble.

‘Syd…I came back for you. I promise I came back for you.’

You are pleading with her now, almost begging for her to believe you.

The midfielder searches your face for traces of lies, tears spilling down her cheeks as she does so.

‘No. No. You chose to leave and I wasn’t enough to make you stay before. Why would I be enough for you now?’

‘Sydney I never wanted to leave you. It broke my heart to leave Germany with how things ended between us.’

Raw pain is evident in your admission and now it is your ex’s turn to flinch.

‘Why didn’t you come back earlier? You could have played for Germany. We could have played together just as we promised to all those years ago.’

You shrug.

‘I was eligible to play for England too and you made it clear that you didn’t want to see me anymore. I know me being here is the last thing you want but I just couldn’t stay away from you anymore. Not when I never stopped loving you.’

Sydney loses the little composure she has left.

Harsh sobs wrack her body and she covers her face with her hands.

‘I’m sorry. I-I’ll go now.’

You turn to leave but the blonde chokes out your name and a plea for you to stay.

‘What?’

‘I never meant for us to break up. I never meant to push you away. Fuck I am so sorry. S-So sorry.’ Syd stammers.

‘Sydney what are you talking about?’

Your words aren’t unkind, just genuinely lost. The German player’s actions have been plain and constant ever since you left. They have been nothing short of obvious in recent times.

Sydney doesn’t want you.

The midfielder wrings her hands, her voice barely a whisper as she says, ‘I love you too. There’s not been a fraction of a second where I haven’t.’

You are floored.

Literally because you have to sit down.

You stare at her silently and the only sound in the room is your ex’s quiet cries.

Eventually her tears slow and she sniffles, looking up at you.

‘Say something.’ She breathes after the painful silence continues.

You don’t know what to say so you go over to her and sit down beside her on the physio bed.

Sydney is trembling but she tentatively wraps an arm around you, getting you to lean your head against her shoulder.

After a few minutes, you curl completely into her side and the blonde sighs in relief.

It is how the rest of the team finds you later, Lea smiling a secret smile to herself.

******

You end up going with Syd back to her apartment. She gives you her address and you drive her there in your car since she can’t do it herself due to her injury.

The blonde keeps stealing glances at you as you drive, wondering if she is dreaming.

She thinks it would be too much if she puts her hand on your knee the way she used to, when you were hers and she yours.

Sydney is so busy overthinking it when you slip your hand onto her knee.

You keep your eyes on the road the entire time but a smile forms on both your faces as Syd covers your hand with hers.

Neither of you have said a word to each other but that’s okay cause there will be time for that.

******

It’s after you have helped the blonde onto her couch and brought her a mug of tea that you realise whose jersey is framed on the wall of her living room.

The three lions crest is familiar, the last name and autograph even more so.

‘Sonnenschein that’s mine.’ You murmur.

Your former girlfriend sets her tea down and nods.

With growing curiosity, you inspect the match worn jersey.

‘From the Euro final in 2022.’ Syd confirms when glance at her.

‘How?’

‘I bought it at an auction. I think it’s the one you wore during the first half.’

You remember now, the England staff had got the team to sign the jerseys before sending them off to some charity organisation.

‘Why do you have it? I would have given it to you for free if you’d asked.’ You question.

You have so many of them that this is as good a place to start as any.

‘Because I was so proud of your achievement. Even if you had to beat me to win that gold medal.’ She explains, picking up her mug again just so that she has something to fiddle with.

‘And I didn’t ask you because I was afraid.’

‘Of me?’

You try not to sound hurt but it bleeds through anyway.

Syd’s hazel eyes gloss over.

‘Not of you. Never of you. J-Just how you would react I guess. Nothing like your ex girlfriend coming up to you after you’ve won your first piece of silverware for your country to spoil the mood.’

The midfielder lets out a strained laugh.

You frown, ‘You wouldn’t have. I wanted to approach you that day too but I didn’t know how. I thought you hated me.’

‘I could never.’

‘It felt like it.’ You softly say. She's, after all, been point blank ignoring and avoiding you ever since you resigned for Bayern Munich.

The blonde grimaces, ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘You said that I made you feel like you weren’t enough when I left for Chelsea. I’m sorry for that.’

‘You needed to leave. I get that now. Leaving Munich was the best thing for your career. Bayern might be my home but it wasn’t yours. I couldn’t see that at nineteen and I can’t tell you how sorry I am for letting my selfishness ruin us. I treated you the way I did all these years because of how guilty I felt.’

‘Sydney…you didn’t ruin us.’

‘Didn’t I?’ She hopelessly asks.

‘I played a part too. It wasn’t entirely your fault.’

The German woman looks defeated and sad. Her hazel eyes are downcast and her usually healthily pink cheeks are pale.

You sit down next to Sydney and take her hand in yours, ‘We’re not ruined. You are still here and I am still here.’

She squeezes your hand in hers, ‘A-Are you saying that you want to give us a second chance?’

‘Only if you want to.’

Your former girlfriend doesn’t need a second to consider it. Her mind is made up.

******

Sydney is pretty like the sun. You’ve always thought so.

Now that you have your sunshine back, you’re not leaving her again. She’s not letting you go again either.

German Translation:

sonnenschein- sunshine

[shotoyami]

Non-conformity

word count: 1.1k

pairing: Scott Sumers + male reader

warnings: none for this one! (unless gay panic is something that needs to be warned?)

genre: fluff

notes: Scott Summers is a bisexual man, that is my own personal headcannon. you cannot tell me that there wasn’t any tension at all between him, Jean, and Logan. I love my silly gay man, he’s just a little cutie patootie. please enjoy this first post of mine here, and I’m starting on my ask/requests as soon as this is posted! <3

additional note, I’ve already edited this post, so please let me know if I missed anything at all!

Scott has always been comfortable with his sexuality. There’s nothing to question, you know? He’s got it all, a pretty girlfriend (who’s becoming questionably close with Logan as of late, but there’s no need to be all possessive. He trusts her), good friends who support him in everything he does, a mentor who cares sincerely about him.

But then, what doesn’t he have? Well, a biological family, for starters. That was gone a long time ago, but it’s nothing to dwell on.

As of late, though, there’s just something different. Something just isn’t right. And he can’t even begin to place a finger on the exact cause of the sudden uneasiness.

Sure, it could just be Jean and her closeness with Logan (damnit Scott, you sound like an obsessive clingy boyfriend–) that’s causing this new feeling, but something tells him it just isn’t that.

No, this is completely different, and it’s so strange that it only seems to happen when–

“Good morning, Scott.” A voice cuts through his thoughts, causing Scott to glance up. There it is again, that funny feeling. He clears his throat, offering a small, sort of awkward smile toward the man in front of him. “Hey- uh…good morning, (y/n). How are you?” He cringes to himself– gosh, he sounded like such a dweeb.

The man dorkily grins back, chuckling at the brunette’s awkwardness, “I’m alright.” He glances back toward someone behind Scott, his grin faltering. Of course, this only makes said brunette more curious, and turns to glance over his shoulder. It’s like a sinking feeling, but is it as bad of a feeling as it should be? Jean is…kissing Logan. In front of everyone. He should be furious, shouting and cursing. But something tells him to be relieved. That he’s free.

“-Scott. Hey, you alright?” He snaps out of his thoughts, looking back at the man he’d been conversing with periously. “Yeah…yeah, I’m alright. I kind of figured that was coming sooner than later.” Scott winces internally, knowing he sounded too nonchalant. What the hell is wrong with him? Why is he so happy that Jean had publicly cheated on him and technically ended their relationship all at once? He notices (y/n)’s frown, one all too familiar– it’s one of pity. “Are you sure?” All he can do is nod. What else is there he could possibly say? Normally he’d be devastated, probably sobbing in his room to himself, but this isn’t normal. This isn’t a normal case. Not when all Scott can think about is the man in front of him and how much he wants to see him without that stupid oversized sweater–

Oh. Oh.

The realization slowly dawns upon him, the feeling starting to make more sense. Is he..? No, he can’t be gay. Scott’s only ever dated women. Women love Scott, and Scott loves women. But (y/n)’s a man.

It’s making his head spin– this made no sense, he’s never had any interest in men to this point, what’s different? What changed? Does (y/n) even like men? All of the women love him, so it’s not too far fetched to assume him straight, but in this day and age, isn’t that also offensive?

“Summers.” (y/n)’s voice cuts through his thought’s yet again, the man frowning still, now with his hands on Scott’s shoulders. “Are you hearing me right now? Maybe I should just walk you back to your dorm, I get it, this is a lot.” He gestures back toward the hallway that stretches between the vast amount of dorms within Xavier’s school and Scott finds himself eager to follow.

As they walk, the pair are thrown into a comfortable silence– er, well, comfortable on the outside. It’s awkward internally for Scott, trying to find something to say. How to voice his thoughts without being creepy. “Hey, (y/n)?” The named man hums in response, solidifying the obvious fact that he’s listening, and Scott continues, “Have you ever thought about…I don’t know, sexuality?” Scott cringes at how awkward he sounds, yet again, but he’s surprised to get a thoughtful hum in return. “Yeah, sexuality is weird. People are just so open, and it’s easier to make yourself open to ideas and thoughts, but at the same time, you don’t want to be too vulnerable and end up hurt. It’s a big tug of war that’s always staked against your favor.”

That’s…a rather interesting way to put it. “What about you in particular, (y/n)?” Scott can’t help but want to know more– no, he needs to know more. “Well, the easiest way to put it would be to just call myself queer and move on with it,” he jokes, grinning playfully before sighing as his voice comes down a pitch. “But, in particular, I’d probably label myself bisexual. You know, men and women and such.” He shrugs, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweats. “Labels suck though. It shouldn’t have to have a name or make you different, everyone just wants to love and be loved equally.”

Scott finds himself melting at the thought, to live in a world where anyone could be anything and do anything– within reason, of course– but even he knows well that it’d never happen. Take all of them being outcast a mutants, for example. “What if I’ve been gay this entire time and never even gave it a thought..?” He mumbles, questioning himself and everything he’s known thus far. “Well, there’s nothing wrong with that,” (y/n)’s response is reassuring, comforting. Scott can’t help it, he grabs (y/n)’s wrist– loosely, of course, in case it made the man uncomfortable. “...(y/n), I…I think you’re my gay awakening.” The man pauses, looking quite bewildered for a moment– to be expected though, this is all very sudden. However, he relaxes a bit afterward, a soft smile haunting his expression. “That’s not what I was expecting to hear from you at all today, Summers. Is this because of Jean, or is this legit? After all, your emotions are going to be pretty heightened after-”

Scott squeezes his hand, silently begging for (y/n) to stop reminding him, for now at least. “No, I’m serious. I guess everything with Jean just really solidified it for me. It’s not like I didn’t enjoy being with her- well, at least until that last part. But something about that never felt right, you know?”

“Is this your corny little gay confession?” (y/n) teases, though he’s being genuine, nont quite making fun of the brunette. Scott’s expression finally relaxes for the first time that day, no longer pensive or distant. 

“...yeah, I think it is.”