#I went about it in a totally new way and it was a good exercise I think

[ghcstcd]

Someone left a prompt in my ask box for blushing Dewdrop in a sheer crop top, and the idea wouldn't leave me alone after I read it.

Bro, why you blushing like that???

[prettyinsophie]

burning desire

Synopsis: With Abby away at some party and your body aching and asking for release, you can’t help but touch yourself while pretending it’s your roommate.

warnings: top abby x virgin (lowkey loser) reader, fingering (r receiving), mentions of strap, squirting, r gets caught by abby, sex toys.

2.9k words

a/n: i’m going to pretend this isn’t way too specific. it’s my first time posting here so im sorry in advance if there are any mistakes, english is not my first language and i wrote this in a rush bc im going insane😇

ofelia si te sale esto no lo leas‼️

There was something utterly wrong with you.

As a girl, you went through your awful womanhood cycle and all that. You never entirely understood how all of it worked, you just ovulated when you were extremely horny and wanted to either kill yourself or everyone around you when on your period. That much you knew about your own body and every other girl went through the same.

The problem was you’ve been on fucking heat for over a month.

Your hormones were a mess, the sexual frustration consumed your being and you couldn’t find a solution. You were a virgin, and quite frankly, an awkward person so it was hard for you to even initiate small talk without quickly making it uncomfortable with your lack of social skills.

You tried distracting yourself throughout the day by attending your classes, doing homework, scrolling through Tiktok, and exercising. Even if you ended up beat by the end of the day, that damn aching between your legs would not leave you alone, and you had to touch yourself to at least make it less awful.

Unfortunately, you didn’t live alone. You shared an apartment with Abby, your high school friend who so happened to get into the same college as you. You didn’t mind, of course, you liked Abby, and now that she was grown and muscular you couldn’t deny she was a total eye-snack. Thing was, you were jealous of whoever the fuck she brought to your shared apartment, Abby must be some sort of goddess if she could make girls scream like that, begging her not to stop while choking in their tears, the bed loudly creaking to the point the blonde had to buy a new mattress. You resented it. You had to settle with sex toys while she fucked almost every week.

The amount of batteries you had in your drawer was embarrassing. Every night you had to abuse your pussy while thinking it was a certain girl doing it for you, had to get good at being silent because you’d throw yourself off the window if Abby ever heard you. Your clit ended red and puffy after an hour of nonstop intimate time with yourself, your eyes swollen because the scenarios in your head were so intense you cried while thrusting a six-inch vibrator inside you, touching that sweet spot it took some time for you to master hitting perfectly until your head went numb, and you squirted all over the pink towel you covered the bed with so you wouldn’t wet the pretty covers and sheets you slept in.

You were ashamed of how filthy your fantasies were for a twenty-year-old virgin, it always hit you once you were over, panting heavily in silence while blushing because your private thoughts and desires bugged you.

You hoped it’d all end soon, that maybe your hormones were a bit crazy just because they decided so be in a silly mood. Every girl goes through shit like this. But no. God was testing you, progressively getting needier as the days passed by. Your god-awful gorgeous friend/roommate worsened it whenever you were doing your assignments at the dining table, and she came home from the gym looking so dirty and delicious, your eyes struggling to focus on your laptop screen and not the way her muscles glistened with not-fully-dried sweat and looked like the glazed donuts you loved eating as a sweet treat, the comparison didn’t make sense, but her body made you feel hungry. You were so sexually frustrated you were convinced you had gone insane.

You wished someone would approach and straight up told you to fuck. You’d accept without second thoughts. But it was the real world, as pretty as you were, you still looked awkward and shy. Fuck your life, honestly. Why couldn’t you be dauntless like the girls who flirted with Abby? Touching her biceps while twirling their hair as they looked at her with nothing but lust and confidence. They were embarrassedly bold but they got exactly what they wanted because Abby was a sucker for pretty girls like that, she loved to fuck the cockiness out of them.

You couldn’t help but think about it every day. You were pathetic, imagining how it would feel to be under her, talking you through it, making you lie there and do nothing but take her until your legs turned into jelly and make you forget all about your stupid sex toy collection hidden in a box under your bed.

Anyways.

Tonight was going to be fun. Abby told you a friend of hers would be throwing a party, subtly inviting you, but you didn’t take the hint and told her to have fun, so off she went an hour ago, leaving you alone in your shared apartment.

Eagerly and with your heart thudding, you arranged everything before jumping right into it, at this point it was just as important in your nocturnal ritual as your skincare routine. You had bought a new toy, this one being 7.4 inches and a bit thicker than your other ones, so you were a bit excited to try it, hoping the sensation would help you release more of your frustration.

With a silky pillow under your lower back, you lied in your bed and took a deep breath, your fingers slowly rubbing your clit, making you gasp softly at the familiar but delicious feeling. Your muscles quickly relaxed as you kept circling your needy button. You didn’t need much teasing, you were already wet, arousal sneaking down and making you groan because it was icky.

Lately, you didn’t rely on your hand that much, ever since you figured out the way to hit your G spot, that’s almost all you needed to come. That being said, you took the pink toy in your hand, lining it down your entrance and teasing yourself by lubing the tip of it with your arousal, imagining it was Abby’s strap and spreading your legs. You had to be quiet every time you masturbated, but you were completely alone now and you wanted to treat yourself by taking the liberty to be as loud as you felt like. Pants and whines of desperation filled your room once you started taking inch by inch of the toy slowly. There were nights you straight up wanted to release everything and go to sleep, or nights such as this, where you felt like dragging your orgasm to make it intense and mind-breaking.

“Holy shit.” You whined once the vibrator was deep inside, you closed your eyes and played start to your fake scenarios.

In your wild fantasies, Abby would tease you, keeping her strap in place while circling your clit and making you wait for her to move. So you did that. Little whimpers left your lips while imagining her talking in your ear, whispering sweet encouraging words. You could multitask with no problem at this point, it was routine. You turned on the vibrator, hips jerking at the feeling and your lips hung as you gasped. Thrusting it slowly the fantasies grew steamier, and your cheeks flushed at the sound of your voice doing all those pathetic and pornographic sounds.

It was big. When you bought it you were so cocky about it but you were actually struggling to slide it in and out smoothly, but thankfully you were so wet it only took a few minutes. And so the madness began. In your head, Abby was fucking you with her strap, your hand moving fast and aiming for your sweet spot like your life depended on it.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You whimpered out loud, the buzzing toy hitting the right place inside of you while you kept rubbing your clit clumsily because it felt so good.

You wanted her. Pitiful whines getting caught in your throat when you remembered Abby was far from your apartment, far from your room, and definitely far from your bed. She was probably messing around with another girl at that party. You winced at the thought, feeling like crying as you kept abusing your pussy. Imaginary Abby would slap you and grab your chin so you’d look at her, telling you to stop drifting away from her when she’s right there with you, to not listen to those silly thoughts of yours.

Your therapist would never hear of this.

“Oh my god, Abby! Please, please, please-” You were okay with being loud at this point, whatever you usually blabbered under your breath now resonating on the walls of your room.

Sometimes you wished you had four hands so you could add a little something to your intimate sessions. You wanted to know how it would feel to have her deep inside with her big and strong hand wrapped around your neck, preventing you from breathing properly while praising you. Shit. Your hand moved faster and rougher, seeking for the most realistic sensation possible. Wanting to pretend this was the real Abby pounding into you.

You needed her. Your eyes stung with tears as your chest heaved because the toy was now at the highest setting, hitting your sweet spot oh so deliciously you were even drooling.

With your eyes squinted shut your mind went fuzzy, the scenario pausing for a moment while focusing on the familiar twisting in your tummy and reaching for your orgasm. Abby was calling your name in the distance, you were so into it for a moment you felt worried about how real it went through your ears.

“Yes, yes, yes! Right there, Abby! Plea-se-!”

Your voice cracked. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you choked weak whimpers while squirting all over the towel, so intense even the toy almost flew out of your cunt. Your legs trembled and you panted loudly, riding out your fifth climax of the week. The cold air of your room hit your bare lower body and made you groan because your slick was drying up and you hated the feeling, but you also needed time to recover before cleaning your mess.

After a few moments, you sighed and opened your eyes, slightly leaning onto your side to grab your phone on the nightstand. You froze at the figure of someone standing by your door. Your stomach dropped and you could feel your heart in your throat.

Abby was there, standing with her arms crossed while looking at you with a stare you couldn’t decipher. No. This could not be happening to you. No!

“Abby-“ You sobbed, the shame betraying you by making you cry.

“How long?” She asked, her blue eyes staring into your soul even from a further distance. Her voice lower than how she usually talks to you.

“W-What?”

“How long have you wanted me to fuck you?”

The question sent a shiver down your spine. This was definitely not how you imagined it’d play out, not in one of your thousands of wet dreams.

“A while…” You mumbled embarrassed, looking away from her. Thankfully you were only naked from the hips down to your feet, you were wearing an oversized shirt that could cover your most private parts.

Abby seemed pleased with your answer. A heavy and shaky sigh left her nose as she walked to your bed.

“And you do this every night while thinking about me?”

The question (which sounded more like a statement) stabbed your core sharply. You nodded and felt your cheeks blushing in shame.

The bed creaked when she joined you in it, getting on top of you while smirking smugly. Your pretty face was adorned with confusion and embarrassment. Lips puffy from crying and your face dampened and red.

“Poor girl. Had to hear me pleasing other girls instead of you, hm? You should’ve just said so, baby.” She comforted you, brushing her fingers against your cheek, making you shiver at the unfamiliar contact.

“Didn’t want to mess with your innocence, you’re so pure I couldn’t dare break you. That’s why I used whoever wanted to throw themselves at me, but turns out that’s all you wanted all along? Wanted me to make you cry and beg?”

Holy fuck. You thought as you were getting wet again. You almost whimpered because this was the real thing. 4D Abby was on top of you and talking dirty with her husky and alluring voice.

“Yes.”

You hated yourself so much. Just a few moments ago you were so mouthy to her in your fantasy and you couldn’t even form a sentence with the real one. Abby laughed at you as if finding you amusing.

“‘Yes’ what, pretty girl?”

This was it. You were going to go for it.

“I-I want you to…fuck me and make me scream and beg for more.” You stuttered softly, looking into her eyes while batting your lashes because you couldn’t maintain eye contact.

“Yeah? I bet I can do a better job than your toys.” She leaned down, your faces closer than you ever thought they’d get, sucking the air out of your lungs.

You yelped in surprise when her fingers went down your folds, spreading the wetness as she teased your sensitive parts. “So wet, waiting for me to read your mind and touch you, huh? Gotta use your big girl words. C’mon, tell me what you want.”

Her voice melted your brain as her fingers spread your lips, making you gasp and squirm under her. You were too shy for your own good, she knew that as well but that made this more interesting. Abby wanted to see how far she could lead you, and how much control she could have on you.

“Please touch me.” Your voice was breathy and almost weak, feeling her fingers replacing your own was too much.

She circled your throbbing clit, causing you to close your eyes and whine loudly.

“You like that?”

“Y-Yes, so so much, Abby.” Your mouth was getting loose, drunk in pleasure and your head was still dizzy from your previous climax. Abby could feel herself getting wet from your reactions to minimal touch.

Poor little thing, so touch-starved. She thought while continuing to please you.

You mumbled curses and her name under your breath. Hands gripping the covers of your bed tightly because she was the one touching you, you had no control over the speed nor the pressure her fingers had on your sensitive bud. Your legs squirmed as you spread them further so she’d position herself more comfortably between them.

“Want you inside, n-need you inside!” You begged pathetically, looking at her with half-lidded eyes.

Abby couldn’t believe this. This was too good to be true and she couldn’t wait anymore either. She kept boundaries out of respect, she knew you were a virgin and had no experience, and she didn’t want to scare you off with her deprived desires. Yet you were there, asking her with tears in your eyes to fill you up. You were so desperate she wanted to eat you alive.

“‘M gonna use my fingers, doll. Don’t wanna fuck you with the same strap I use with other girls. I’m going to get you your own, and I’m going to fuck this horniness out of you. You’ll only need me.” She whispered in your ear before shoving two of her fingers inside you, gaining a loud whimper from you.

Her fingers were thick and long, she filled you up almost perfectly you didn’t want this moment to end. Your chest raised up and down as you struggled to breathe properly. She moved them in and out, curling them expertly inside your warm walls.

“Faster, please.”

Abby knew once you two were done tonight, every time she’d hear the word ‘please’ from you would be a trigger. She wanted to tease you, drag you to the edge, but she was aware of how frustrated you felt and it was pitiful. So she let you give her orders, just this once though.

She hit it. That magnificent spot of yours that sent you to the moon. You were a moaning mess, hairs sticking to your forehead with sweat while she kept thrusting her fingers forcefully.

“Fuck, Abby! There, holy fuck.” You blabbered, your back arching off the bed, and the pillow under you helped to reach your g spot smoothly. Abby was also panting, even groaning because you were giving her a show. The things she’d do to you from now on, whew, she was going to ruin you.

“So pretty, taking my fingers so well. Want you to come all over them, doll. You think you can do that for me?”

Nodding drastically up and down, she sped up if that was even possible. Your tummy swooped and you didn’t realize you had tears running down your cheeks. Abby’s face was blurry and your eyes struggled to focus. Your hand found her bicep, clawing it with your acrylic nails as you reached the delicious bliss.

“Shitshitshit!”

Moaning Abby’s name and profanities, you came on her fingers and probably her pants as well. You kept squirting while sobbing because you’ve never experienced an orgasm like this one, your legs shaking against your will. Now you were panting, catching your breath and when you opened your eyes and met with hers, reality hit you.

You opened your puffy lips to say something, but Abby cut you off.

“Next time it’ll be my cock.”

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Amazon’s financial shell game let it create an “impossible” monopoly

I'm on tour with my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me in TUCSON (Mar 9-10), then San Francisco (Mar 13), Anaheim, and more!

For the pro-monopoly crowd that absolutely dominated antitrust law from the Carter administration until 2020, Amazon presents a genuinely puzzling paradox: the company's monopoly power was never supposed to emerge, and if it did, it should have crumbled immediately.

Pro-monopoly economists embody Ely Devons's famous aphorism that "If economists wished to study the horse, they wouldn’t go and look at horses. They’d sit in their studies and say to themselves, ‘What would I do if I were a horse?’":

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/27/economism/#what-would-i-do-if-i-were-a-horse

Rather than using the way the world actually works as their starting point for how to think about it, they build elaborate models out of abstract principles like "rational actors." The resulting mathematical models are so abstractly elegant that it's easy to forget that they're just imaginative exercises, disconnected from reality:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/03/all-models-are-wrong/#some-are-useful

These models predicted that it would be impossible for Amazon to attain monopoly power. Even if they became a monopoly – in the sense of dominating sales of various kinds of goods – the company still wouldn't get monopoly power.

For example, if Amazon tried to take over a category by selling goods below cost ("predatory pricing"), then rivals could just wait until the company got tired of losing money and put prices back up, and then those rivals could go back to competing. And if Amazon tried to keep the loss-leader going indefinitely by "cross-subsidizing" the losses with high-margin profits from some other part of its business, rivals could sell those high margin goods at a lower margin, which would lure away Amazon customers and cut the supply lines for the price war it was fighting with its discounted products.

That's what the model predicted, but it's not what happened in the real world. In the real world, Amazon was able use its access to the capital markets to embark on scorched-earth predatory pricing campaigns. When diapers.com refused to sell out to Amazon, the company casually committed $100m to selling diapers below cost. Diapers.com went bust, Amazon bought it for pennies on the dollar and shut it down:

https://www.theverge.com/2019/5/13/18563379/amazon-predatory-pricing-antitrust-law

Investors got the message: don't compete with Amazon. They can remain predatory longer than you can remain solvent.

Now, not everyone shared the antitrust establishment's confidence that Amazon couldn't create a durable monopoly with market power. In 2017, Lina Khan – then a third year law student – published "Amazon's Antitrust Paradox," a landmark paper arguing that Amazon had all the tools it needed to amass monopoly power:

https://www.yalelawjournal.org/note/amazons-antitrust-paradox

Today, Khan is chair of the FTC, and has brought a case against Amazon that builds on some of the theories from that paper. One outcome of that suit is an unprecedented look at Amazon's internal operations. But, as the Institute for Local Self-Reliance's Stacy Mitchell describes in a piece for The Atlantic, key pieces of information have been totally redacted in the court exhibits:

https://www.theatlantic.com/ideas/archive/2024/02/amazon-profits-antitrust-ftc/677580/

The most important missing datum: how much money Amazon makes from each of its lines of business. Amazon's own story is that it basically breaks even on its retail operation, and keeps the whole business afloat with profits from its AWS cloud computing division. This is an important narrative, because if it's true, then Amazon can't be forcing up retail prices, which is the crux of the FTC's case against the company.

Here's what we know for sure about Amazon's retail business. First: merchants can't live without Amazon. The majority of US households have Prime, and 90% of Prime households start their ecommerce searches on Amazon; if they find what they're looking for, they buy it and stop. Thus, merchants who don't sell on Amazon just don't sell. This is called "monopsony power" and it's a lot easier to maintain than monopoly power. For most manufacturers, a 10% overnight drop in sales is a catastrophe, so a retailer that commands even a 10% market-share can extract huge concessions from its suppliers. Amazon's share of most categories of goods is a lot higher than 10%!

What kind of monopsony power does Amazon wield? Well, for one thing, it is able to levy a huge tax on its sellers. Add up all the junk-fees Amazon charges its platform sellers and it comes out to 45-51%:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/25/greedflation/#commissar-bezos

Competitive businesses just don't have 45% margins! No one can afford to kick that much back to Amazon. What is a merchant to do? Sell on Amazon and you lose money on every sale. Don't sell on Amazon and you don't get any business.

The only answer: raise prices on Amazon. After all, Prime customers – the majority of Amazon's retail business – don't shop for competitive prices. If Amazon wants a 45% vig, you can raise your Amazon prices by a third and just about break even.

But Amazon is wise to that: they have a "most favored nation" rule that punishes suppliers who sell goods more cheaply in rival stores, or even on their own site. The punishments vary, from banishing your products to page ten million of search-results to simply kicking you off the platform. With publishers, Amazon reserves the right to lower the prices they set when listing their books, to match the lowest price on the web, and paying publishers less for each sale.

That means that suppliers who sell on Amazon (which is anyone who wants to stay in business) have to dramatically hike their prices on Amazon, and when they do, they also have to hike their prices everywhere else (no wonder Prime customers don't bother to search elsewhere for a better deal!).

Now, Amazon says this is all wrong. That 45-51% vig they claim from business customers is barely enough to break even. The company's profits – they insist – come from selling AWS cloud service. The retail operation is just a public service they provide to us with cross-subsidy from those fat AWS margins.

This is a hell of a claim. Last year, Amazon raked in $130 billion in seller fees. In other words: they booked more revenue from junk fees than Bank of America made through its whole operation. Amazon's junk fees add up to more than all of Meta's revenues:

https://s2.q4cdn.com/299287126/files/doc_financials/2023/q4/AMZN-Q4-2023-Earnings-Release.pdf

Amazon claims that none of this is profit – it's just covering their operating expenses. According to Amazon, its non-AWS units combined have a one percent profit margin.

Now, this is an eye-popping claim indeed. Amazon is a public company, which means that it has to make thorough quarterly and annual financial disclosures breaking down its profit and loss. You'd think that somewhere in those disclosures, we'd find some details.

You'd think so, but you'd be wrong. Amazon's disclosures do not break out profits and losses by segment. SEC rules actually require the company to make these per-segment disclosures:

https://scholarship.law.stjohns.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=3524&context=lawreview#:~:text=If%20a%20company%20has%20more,income%20taxes%20and%20extraordinary%20items.

That rule was enacted in 1966, out of concern that companies could use cross-subsidies to fund predatory pricing and other anticompetitive practices. But over the years, the SEC just…stopped enforcing the rule. Companies have "near total managerial discretion" to lump business units together and group their profits and losses in bloated, undifferentiated balance-sheet items:

https://www.ucl.ac.uk/bartlett/public-purpose/publications/2021/dec/crouching-tiger-hidden-dragons

As Mitchell points you, it's not just Amazon that flouts this rule. We don't know how much money Google makes on Youtube, or how much Apple makes from the App Store (Apple told a federal judge that this number doesn't exist). Warren Buffett – with significant interest in hundreds of companies across dozens of markets – only breaks out seven segments of profit-and-loss for Berkshire Hathaway.

Recall that there is one category of data from the FTC's antitrust case against Amazon that has been completely redacted. One guess which category that is! Yup, the profit-and-loss for its retail operation and other lines of business.

These redactions are the judge's fault, but the real fault lies with the SEC. Amazon is a public company. In exchange for access to the capital markets, it owes the public certain disclosures, which are set out in the SEC's rulebook. The SEC lets Amazon – and other gigantic companies – get away with a degree of secrecy that should disqualify it from offering stock to the public. As Mitchell says, SEC chairman Gary Gensler should adopt "new rules that more concretely define what qualifies as a segment and remove the discretion given to executives."

Amazon is the poster-child for monopoly run amok. As Yanis Varoufakis writes in Technofeudalism, Amazon has actually become a post-capitalist enterprise. Amazon doesn't make profits (money derived from selling goods); it makes rents (money charged to people who are seeking to make a profit):

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/28/cloudalists/#cloud-capital

Profits are the defining characteristic of a capitalist economy; rents are the defining characteristic of feudalism. Amazon looks like a bazaar where thousands of merchants offer goods for sale to the public, but look harder and you discover that all those stallholders are totally controlled by Amazon. Amazon decides what goods they can sell, how much they cost, and whether a customer ever sees them. And then Amazon takes $0.45-51 out of every dollar. Amazon's "marketplace" isn't like a flea market, it's more like the interconnected shops on Disneyland's Main Street, USA: the sign over the door might say "20th Century Music Company" or "Emporium," but they're all just one store, run by one company.

And because Amazon has so much control over its sellers, it is able to exercise power over its buyers. Amazon's search results push down the best deals on the platform and promote results from more expensive, lower-quality items whose sellers have paid a fortune for an "ad" (not really an ad, but rather the top spot in search listings):

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/29/aethelred-the-unready/#not-one-penny-for-tribute

This is "Amazon's pricing paradox." Amazon can claim that it offers low-priced, high-quality goods on the platform, but it makes $38b/year pushing those good deals way, way down in its search results. The top result for your Amazon search averages 29% more expensive than the best deal Amazon offers. Buy something from those first four spots and you'll pay a 25% premium. On average, you need to pick the seventeenth item on the search results page to get the best deal:

https://scholarship.law.bu.edu/faculty_scholarship/3645/

For 40 years, pro-monopoly economists claimed that it would be impossible for Amazon to attain monopoly power over buyers and sellers. Today, Amazon exercises that power so thoroughly that its junk-fee revenues alone exceed the total revenues of Bank of America. Amazon's story – that these fees barely stretch to covering its costs – assumes a nearly inconceivable level of credulity in its audience. Regrettably – for the human race – there is a cohort of senior, highly respected economists who possess this degree of credulity and more.

Of course, there's an easy way to settle the argument: Amazon could just comply with SEC regs and break out its P&L for its e-commerce operation. I assure you, they're not hiding this data because they think you'll be pleasantly surprised when they do and they don't want to spoil the moment.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/01/managerial-discretion/#junk-fees

Image: Doc Searls (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/docsearls/4863121221/

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/

[shantechni]

Aight, so this is something I intended to make a post about eons ago before making a bunch of posts related to it, but some things happened. Anyways-

The night Leo meets Karai, or rather is ambushed by her, he's thrown for a loop by her unprecedented decision to leave before she could easily finish him off. He's almost instantly putting an unreasonable amount of trust in her after that single interaction, and you can't entirely blame the guy since she was making no attempt to kill him while exuding her mischievous nature and taunting him like they've been buddies for years. Her behavior loosened him up in a way he normally couldn't be because of his duties as a leader. Of course, the situation greatly escalates from there as one thing leads to another, and the turtles are faced with the moral dilemma of accepting Karai for their familial connection with her or shunning her like any other enemy they know as she takes almost any chance she could get to hold a tantō to their necks.

Although none were more expressive with their distrust of her than Raph, there is something interesting to take note of.

Raph is the first to find out about Karai's existence and the evidently one-sided "friendship" Leo has with her, but rather than immediately go on the offensive with Karai (extremely surprising considering she had Leo pinned to the roof right when he arrived) or accuse Leo of any wrongdoing, he simply demands an explanation from his brother. Raph observed the situation with a level head and didn't judge Leo for anything other than seeming too blasé about Karai being a Foot clan member, or for saying she wasn't intent on killing him when she threw a weapon at his head. Other than that, he kept the matter between him and Leo since it didn't seem to be a pressing issue at the moment. His trouble with Karai only really began in the next episode when he witnesses Leo needlessly showing off in front of her and even going out of his way to hide her from Splinter, Donnie, and Mikey.

Nothing's stopping Raph from telling everyone, and he certainly doesn't trust Karai enough to leave things as they are, but he puts his faith in Leo and nudges him to come clean about his new found friend twice to their brothers at least. Soon after being told that Karai was 'taken care of' (something he called total BS on), he reaches his boiling point once he discovers her following them, and his frustrations are worsened by Leo going out of his way to defend Karai when she's spelling trouble for them. As to be expected, Leo is forced to confess after she lands them in hot water and leaves them for dead while running off with a Kraang bot, but once Splinter gives him a much needed lecture, Raph forgives him and seemingly stays out of his face about the ordeal. At least until Karai approaches them with a proposition to combine their forces and fight the Kraang, something he surely would've put up more of a fight to shoot down had the others, namely Leo, not agreed to her offer after she helped them fight the Kraang stealth ship.

All of those instances, when combed through for the little things, are some of the first details the writers gave us to show a major distinction between Leo and Raph.

Raph's temper is so front and center throughout the series that the amount of patience he exercises in response to Leo's asinine decisions and trains of thought (especially early on) has a tendency of being overshadowed. He constantly, and openly, shunned the idea of Karai ever siding with them since he couldn't find it in himself to readily trust her like everyone else could, and even after learning who her real father is, he continued to question the possibility of Karai ever turning out to be good when considering her upbringing. But he still went along with Leo's wishes to help and go so far to befriend her because he knew his brother was simply trying to help someone out of the kindess of his heart at the end of the day, and Leo's only further spurred by her being their sister.

This isn't exclusive to their development with Karai, because we see later on that Raph exercised a far greater amount of that patience when Slash made his theatrical return to the team midway through S3.

One could make the argument that the writers should've had the midseason two parter focus the slightest bit more on Raph's POV since Slash used to be his pet and Leo was the only one unwilling to believe he'd changed since their last encounter, but I'd say with certainty that the minuscule amount of input we received from him is just the right amount of focus we needed. Raph doesn't blow up at Leo for his treatment of Slash because he knows his suspicions aren't baseless, and he doesn't go out of his way to prove Slash's innocence to Leo (Mikey kind of does that for him lol); he only decided to step in when the two couldn't decide on what plan to proceed with. He plainly moves aside and allows Slash to prove Leo wrong through his own efforts, all while undoubtedly believing since their last encounter that Slash isn't bad anymore and that Leo would eventually come around to make that same conclusion.

The complete opposite of Leo's stubborn behavior when it came to Karai.

Look at Leo's face, he's so silly, a goofy goober if you will

Even though she went on to turn her back on Shredder, and essentially prove that Leo was right, Raph wasn't wrong to take so much time to see Karai as a trustworthy ally. He recognized that it wasn't enough for her to just be borderline friendly and fight on the same side as them; legitimate effort needed to be put forth for them to warm up to someone like her, and her track record didn't exactly suggest that she'd readily put in that effort. Leo's fixation with turning the tables on Shredder and making things right with Splinter practically blinded him from that simple little truth though. Of course, he learned the error of his ways and clearly followed in Raph's footsteps when confronting Slash and anyone else they'd cross paths with that posed a potential threat, sometimes tending to go too deep into that mindset when he was upset with Fugitoid and Usagi.

They both learned a little bit of something from each other along the way, but the difference in how Leo and Raph grow to perceive the matter of trusting someone is so fascinating to me.

[miryum]

"Tactical Village"

Summary: Detective!Jason Todd x detective!Reader based on Jake and Amy's relationship

Series Warnings: Swearing, descriptions of violence (but nothing descriptive), guns and other police stuff

Series Masterlist

“Do you recognise any of these men?” Y/n asked a woman who was wearing a ‘Visitor’ tag. 

The woman shook her head, saying, “I was hiding in the bathroom stall so I didn’t see his face. But, I heard him. He was singing along to the track.”

“Do you remember what he was singing?”

“Oh my gosh, no, Y/n,” Jason couldn’t help but let out a laugh. “Don’t do it….” Y/n chuckled along with him. Captain Wayne had assigned a detective to Y/n whenever she interrogated a perp. There had been an… incident. 

Cass didn’t know who gave Y/n a guitar, but the woman was currently torturing a perp with her terrible playing of the instrument, accompanying the sound with loud, off-tune screaming. 

The woman shrugged. “I think it was that song ‘I Want it That Way.’ ” 

Y/n hummed. “Backstreet Boys, I’m familiar.”

“Maybe a little too familiar,” Jason muttered. He thought of all the times Y/n had agonised both the criminals and detectives on duty with their songs.

“Number one,” Y/n ignored Jason, pressing a button for the intercom. “Could you please sing the opening to ‘I Want it That Way?’”

“Really? Uh… okay,” Perp 1 said. “You are… my fire?”

Y/n glanced over to the witness who shook her head. “Number two, keep it going.”

“The one… desire.” Perp 2 squinted to Perp 1, looking for confirmation that this was actually happening. 

“Number three?” Y/n nodded along to the nonexistent beat. 

“Believe… when I say?”

“Number four!” Y/n called out, grinning widely, leaning on the desk.

“I want it that way.”

“TELL ME WHY!” Y/n sang loudly into the microphone. 

“Ain’t nothing but a heartache,” all the suspects chanted along. 

“TELL ME WHY!”

“Ain’t nothing but a mistake…”

“Now number five,” Y/n crooned to the melody.

Perp 5 raised his hand, losing himself in the music. “I never wanna hear you say,”

“WHOO!” Y/n shouted out.

“I want it that way,” everyone finished together.

“Chills! Literal chills!” Y/n shivered, giggling. 

“It was number five,” the woman said. “Number five killed my brother.” 

“Oh my gosh, I totally forgot about that,” Jason murmured. “And, Y/n, just so you know, you pressed the ‘speaker’ button. Everyone in the precinct could hear that.” 

“Ohhh… whoops?”

“Happy Tactical Village Day!” Y/n high-fived Tim on her way in the door. “Happy Tactical Village Day, Cass! Happy Tactical Village Day!”

“L/n, I'm surprised to see you so excited about departmentally mandated training exercises,” Wayne commented. 

“Why, ‘tis the most fun day of the year, my good sir! Something you wouldn't understand, because you're not programmed to feel joy.”

“Yes, but my software is due for an upgrade,” Wayne retorted.

”When you play along with the robot jokes it ruins my enjoyment of them,” Y/n pouted.

“Yes, I am aware.”

“Anyway, Tactical Village Day is awesome!” Y/n continued with her rant. “We get to field test a bunch of cool, new weapons and there's always a fun training situation. Last year's was prison break. It got uber violent. It was like being in an action movie.” Her eyes went wide with excitement.

Y/n was using a piece of her hair to slowly chisel away at a metal bar of a cell.

“Y/n?” Steph called from the other end of the cell. “Cass and I dug a tunnel. Wanna use it?”

“Go on without me,” Y/n said in a deep, gruff voice. “I’ll make due by myself.”

“It's also a good opportunity for us to bond as a unit,” Steph said, reminding them all the true reason of Tactical Village Day.

“Everybody gets into it,” Y/n exclaimed. 

Jason kicked down a door and he and Dick rushed through it, screaming as they stormed the room. 

It turned out to be a supply closet.

“Suffice to say, the sixty-sixth has never had a perfect run,” Dick chuckled and scratched his neck. 

“Yeah, but Y/n has been the finalist for coolest kill two years in a row,” Stephanie said. “Every precinct sends their footage and all the cops vote.”

“It's not that big of a deal,” Y/n waved her away. “All you win is a children's tennis trophy, so…”

“You desperately want that trophy, don't you?” Wayne asked.

“So badly.” Y/n growled. “I will stop at nothing to obtain my prize. I'll shoot all of you in the face if I have to!”

“Go team,” Damian said monotonously. 

“Okay, so,” Y/n slid into the seat next to Jason’s on the bus ride over. “I’ve figured out my fictional persona for this year’s shooty-shooty rootin-tootie.”

“How the hell do you come up with these names?” Jason muttered, mostly to himself. 

“I am… Gina Thunderhouse. Russian spy, weapons master, and total badass. I even have cool Russian accent.” she said in a bad accent. “Babushka. Moscow. Rasputin.” 

“You know ‘babushka’ means ‘grandma,’ right?”

“Whatever. At least I have a persona, Mr. I’m-not-even-trying-to-be-fun.”

“This training isn’t about fun,” Jason frowned. “It’s about honing our skills to be better officers.”

“We shoot paint at pretend bad guys!” Y/n cried. “How is that not fun?!”

“I’m gonna go talk to Dick,” Jason said, standing up. “You have fun thinking of more Russian words.”

Steph quickly filled Jason’s empty seat, grinning sharply. “Seems like you two are getting cosy!”

“Come on, Brown. Not this again!”

“You gotta admit there’s spark.” 

“How many times do I have to tell you?!” Y/n exclaimed. “He’s like a brother to me.”

“And Leia was like a sister to Luke,” Steph sang out.

“Okay, that’s not fair. Luke didn’t know! No one knew.”

Steph shrugged and let the conversation go, though a smile flitted through her lips. Soon, the sixty-sixth arrived at the building where Tactical Village Day would commence. Walking in the doors, duffel bags full of gear and weapons in hand, Y/n shouted out, “The six-six is in the house!” 

“Six-six!” The rest of the crew echoed.

“Hey! Biz!” Y/n greeted an old friend. “They upgraded you from bystander to perp! That’s great, man. Still gonna blow your brains out though.”

“Wouldn’t expect anything else,” Biz waved back.

“Jason Todd?” A voice spoke from a crowd of detectives and cops. “Is that you?”

“Rose?” Jason’s head whipped towards the voice. “It’s been so long! What’re you doing here?”

“I’m with the seventeenth now,” she explained. “We’re paired with you guys today.” Rose was a tall, slim, blonde girl whom it seemed Jason connected with very well. 

“Wha- what’s going on here?” Y/n shuffled up to them, Steph close behind. 

“Oh, Y/n, this is Rose Wilson.” Rose held out a hand and Y/n firmly shook it. “Rose, this is Y/n L/n. She’s the life of the six-six.” He placed a hand on Y/n’s lower back, pushing her slightly forward. 

“Nice to meet you,” Rose said. 

“Likewise,” Y/n pressed her lips together in a smile. 

“Well, I gotta go,” Rose hugged Jason. “I’ll see you later, though. Great seeing you.”

“You too,” Jason returned the hug. 

Once Rose had left with a wave, Y/n turned to Jason and questioned, “So… who was that?”

“That was Rose,” Jason said as if it was the most obvious thing. “We went on a couple of dates last year.” 

“You did?” Steph asked. Y/n had forgotten she was behind her. Cass joined them, silently backing up her friends.

“Yeah, I liked her, but she was stationed in Metropolis so I didn’t get to see much of her. I guess it just fizzled out.”

“Right,” Y/n gawaffed. “That's the girl you said the lame stuff about. Like ‘she's a good listener’ and shit.” Internally, she felt bad for deriding Rose- she seemed like a nice person- but she couldn’t help but take a rag at Jason.

“I'm sorry, what do you look for in a relationship?” Jason asked snarkily. 

“I don't know,” Y/n shrugged. “Real stuff. Shape of their ass. Sense of dark humour.”

“Of course.” Jason rolled his eyes and stalked away.

“Isn’t it weird that Jason dated that girl?” Y/n scoffed, hands on her hips.

Steph raised her brows, mirroring L/n’s stance. “Why do you care so much?” Her voice rose higher with each word.

“Okay, first of all, your insinuating voice is way too high,” Y/n accused. “It's weird. And second, I don't care. I'm just wondering why he would like her.”

“Whatever you say,” Steph said, voice still high-pitched and she shuddered. “Okay, yeah, I hear it now. I sound like Cat from Sam and Cat.”

“Yes, you do.” Cass agreed. “But, I agree. L/n needs to confront her feelings for Todd and woman up.”

Y/n rolled her eyes and excused herself from the conversation, claiming the need to talk to Tim.

“Oh, this is so cool!” Y/n squealed, holding a parallel gun. “You can shoot around corners. I love guns.” She sighed and said, “I'm gonna make such a good mom someday.”

Jason shook his head, lips pursing. “Not even gonna touch that.”

“Not even gonna touch that: Title of your sex tape,” Y/n muttered, then chuckled. “Come on, man. At least make me work for it.”

Soon, it was time for the sixty-sixth to run the simulation. The team was standing by the door, waiting to be let in when Y/n slid by on her knees, making a dramatic entrance. “Gina Thunderhouse had arrived.” Her voice was, once again, accented in a bad Russian tone.

“That was majestic,” Tim joked.

“Custom kneepads to help me win coolest kill,” Y/n patted her knees, showing off her kneepads. After an awkward silence, she asked, “What, don't tell me Thunderhouse is the only lady here with a signature move!”

Tim shrugged. “I was bouncing around the idea where when I'm out of ammo, I release my mag and dropkick or chuck it into someone's throat.”

“You know how people hold their guns sideways to look cool?” Dick asked. Y/n nodded and the sarge continued, “It got me thinking. What if you held your gun upside-down?” He demonstrated it, flipping his gun upside down, finger still on trigger.

Before Y/n could respond with how that was an incredibly stupid idea, a loud buzzer sounded and another precinct marched out the door, looking victorious.

“Seventeenth’s done.” Y/n muttered and Stephanie stepped closer to her. “Heads up.”

“Hey. How'd it go?” Jason greeted Rose. 

Rose smiled and replied, “it went well. We had a perfect run! And not to brag, but I think we just set a GCPD course record for time.”

“Definitely a brag,” Y/n huffed quietly. 

“A course record?” Jason’s brows shot up.  “That’s so cool.”

“Thanks.” Rose looked up at him. “I'm psyched. By the way, good luck in there.”

“Thanks,” Jason called after her as she walked away.

“All right, huddle up.” Y/n pulled Jason away by the strap of his vest and into a group huddle. “This is how it's going down.”

“What happened to your accent, Gina?” Steph asked teasingly, knowing full well what was going on.

“Forget that shit.” Y/n frowned. “We're taking this seriously. Okay, on three: Let's break that course record and be the best precinct here! One, two, three!”

The group repeated, “let’s break that course record and… uh…” They all trailed off, mumbling different things as they forgot the words. 

“Yeah, I agree, it was too many words.” Y/n grimaced. “Let’s just do it.”

“Okay, I've got the details for this simulation.” Dick sat in front of a console, radioing in to everyone’s headsets. “A group of armed men entered an embassy and took hostages.”

“Which embassy?” Y/n couldn't help but ask. She shook her head, reminding herself to stay focused. “Doesn't matter. We’ll just say, Canada. They’re too nice to say no if someone asks to take them hostage. So take out the perps, clear the civilians, rescue the hostages?”

“Affirmative,” Dick confirmed. “This is an active shooter situation. You're cleared for maximum engagement.”

“‘Maximum engagement?’” Y/n scoffed. “What is this, Jurassic Park: The Ride?” 

Dick didn’t answer, commanding, “Brown and Drake, perimeter security. Brown, make sure he doesn’t fall asleep, but also doesn’t die from caffeine overdose. He only got two and a half hours last night.”

“Got it,” Brown said, yanking Tim’s cup of coffee away from him.

“L/n and Todd, you're the assault team. I'll be in the command centre. Cain, I need you to do surveillance on the places I can’t see.”

“On it.” Cass disappeared into the vents and Dick stared after her, wondering how she didn’t end up as an assassin-for-hire.

“All right, focus up,” Y/n said into the comms. “We got eighteen minutes and forty-one seconds to break this record. No screwing around.”

“Wow, you're really not gonna do a character?” Jason asked, smirking.

“I am playing a character,” Y/n said. “A no-nonsense detective whose only goal is to set this course record. Her name is Y/n L/n. She’s a kid who grew up with an absent father and just wants to prove herself. I don't have time for her full back-story. Sarge, please, let’s start.”

“Okay, guys, and go!” Dick clicked a stopwatch and the team rushed in.

Y/n zipped around a corner, gun drawn. When she didn’t see anyone, she called, “clear!”

She and Jason repeated the actions, peeking around corners and yelling, “clear.”

Y/n turned around a corner and fired two shots at a cop labelled “PERP.”

“Nice,” Jason commented.

Y/n ignored him and said, “okay, only three perps left. We might actually do this.”

Dick’s voice came in through the comms. “L/n, Cain has intel that there’s a hostage in room 409.”

“Copy that.” Y/n inhaled and said, “I love how it always smells like fresh paint here. Reminds me of how often I moved as a child.”

“No talking,” Jason reminded her. “You'll give away our position.”

“Look out!” Y/n was staring over his shoulder. She quickly lifted her gun and fired a shot at someone. 

Jason shielded away from the noise. “That was close.” He inspected Y/n and said, “there's paint in your hair.” He reached up and smoothed the paint away. “Thanks for shooting that guy.”

“My pleasure.” Y/n followed him around the corner and stared at a door marked 409. “The hostages are in there. Intel says there's a couple of heavily-armed perps with them.”

Jason asked, “you want to wait for backup?”

Y/n shook her head. “No time. We only have a minute to win the record.” She sighed and declared, “I'm going in.” At Jason’s scandalised look, she reassured him, smiling. She gently took Jason’s gun from his hands. “Don't worry. I have a plan on how to beat them: Give up.”

“What?!”

“Trust me,” Y/n said. “Or don't.” She shrugged. “I'm doing it anyway.” Jason’s heart dropped, watching her walk cautiously into the room. She announced, hands holding her guns in the air, “GCPD! Don't shoot!” Inside the room were two perps, guarding three hostages. “I'm here to surrender,” Y/n told them. The hostages looked at her as if she was crazy. “Let the hostages go and take me instead,” she said. 

“Not happening.” One of the perps growled. “Drop your weapon!”

”Okay, okay, my fingers are off the triggers.” Y/n agreed, dangling her guns off her fingers. “I'm just gonna slowly put them down in front of me….” She started crouching down. Jason watched, aghast, from the doorway. “I’m slowly putting 'em…” Suddenly, she twisted her fingers around and pulled the triggers, shooting the two perps in the chest.

“Goddamn it!” One of the perps yelled.

“Dick, time!” Y/n shouted into her comm.

“18 minutes, 28 seconds. You broke the record!” Dick cried back.

“Yes! Nice!” Jason ran in and hugged Y/n tightly, lifting her off the ground and spinning her around. She squealed and hugged him back. 

Jason paraded her out of the room and they greeted their teammates to a chorus of cheers, applause, and claps on the back.

“Ah, there she is!” Dick called.

“The record is ours.” Y/n spread her arms.

“I still can't believe your final kill came from Dick’s move.” Tim shook his head, looking disgusted.

“You went upsy-downsies?” Dick gasped. “That's what I call it, because you hold the gun upside-down.”

Y/n sighed. “Yes, Richard, I went upsy-downsies. And none of you shall ever speak of it again.”

“But I want to speak of it,” Jason whined. “You looked really stupid.”

“Alright, let's go.” Dick grinned. “Drinks are on me.”

“Nice! Here we go, six-six!” Y/n held her hand up to Jason for a high-five, face flushed with excitement.

Jason grimaced. “Actually, Rose asked me to dinner, so maybe I can meet up with you guys afterwards?”

Y/n’s face dropped. “Oh. Sure. Yeah. Of course. Cool. Cool cool cool cool cool cool cool.” Jason nodded and left, giving goodbyes as he walked away.

“What's going on, Gina Thunderhouse?” Cass smirked, sidling up with Steph. 

Y/n muttered, “what do you think Jason sees in Rose?”

“So you do like him!” Steph accused, smiling slyly. 

“I'm just curious!” Y/n tried to defend. “I mean, she's okay-looking and a good cop….” But aren’t I okay-looking and a good cop? “Also, she set the course record, but that's nothing. I broke it, like, 20 minutes later.”

“You want to know why he went out with her and not you?” Cass asked quietly. 

“Yeah.” Y/n swallowed harshly. 

“Because she actually asked him out,” Steph finished.

Captain Wayne raised a brow, looking down at Y/n’s desk. “You won coolest kill?” He gestured to the small tennis trophy Y/n was staring at. 

“No- not by a long shot.” She chuckled dryly. “But Dick bought it for me ‘cause he felt like I should’ve won. But he’s bias, of course.”

“Of course.” Captain Wayne smiled softly. “Detective, are you alright?”

“Yeah. Thanks, Captain,” Y/n mumbled. “Can- can I ask you a question?” 

“Sure, L/n.”

Y/n looked up at Wayne. “How’d you know Clark was the one?” she whispered.

Bruce sighed and offered, “come into my office. And bring your trophy.”

Doing as she was told, Y/n followed Bruce into his office. She sat down and Bruce took the trophy from her, placing it on his desk proudly. “When I first got here, Damian told me of your predicament.” When Y/n’s mouth fell open in betrayal, Bruce held up his hand. “I would’ve figured it out either way. I used to be a detective, after all. But what he didn’t know is if Todd liked you back. However, based on months of observation, I’ve noticed, for lack of a better simile, that Todd follows you like a lost puppy. I should know; I acted the same way towards Clark before we started dating.”

“Did you ask him out?” Y/n asked.

Bruce let out a laugh. “God, no. I was too scared. But that’s not an invitation to make the same mistakes I did. I lost a lot of time with Clark because of my anxiety.”

“Duly noted, Captain. Thank you.”

“Anytime, L/n. And good job in the Tactical Village.”

“Thank you, sir.”

[shakti-tiger]

Letting go of Saving the World - what I realised about my response to the Neil Gaiman allegations

Potential trigger warnings: mention of childhood abuse but nothing specific. Mention of Neil Gaiman allegations but nothing specific.

Over the last couple of years I've been getting help from a therapist using parts work and trauma release exercises (TRE) to manage symptoms of complex trauma from childhood . Whilst I was working through some heavier aspects of that, I was watching Good Omens as a bit of light relief. So then I went down my usual rabbit hole with things I enjoy and starting to delve into the fandom, fan fiction etc. So I was a bit shattered when the news broke two months ago about Neil Gaiman, even though I haven't been into any of his stuff apart from Good Omens.

What then happened was that I started to feel really compelled to share this news and couldn't understand why it wasn't being more widely shared, feeling upset and angry about that situation and feeling highly triggered by people who seem to be carrying on as if nothing had changed.

I did have the awareness to partly recognise that this was to do with my past situation not about the current situation. Because the situation in my family is that I wasn't listened to, I wasn't heard and the other people were in denial of how toxic the family was and carried on as if it was all normal, because that is how they dealt with it. So the responses of a lot of the fandom seemed to be mirroring that to me.

I'm starting to understand recently how an all consuming desire to change an external situation that doesn't feel safe, to feel overly responsible to save others, is linked to complex trauma. This article here "Control As a Trauma Response: Knowing You Were Powerless Helps You Heal"

explains quite well how one way we cope with being powerless as children is to try and be totally in control as adults.

It was too scary to admit to ourselves that the caregivers were wrong, because they were in control of our lives, we were totally in their hands, so instead we take responsibility for what they did to us and blame ourselves.

I'm not saying that it's wrong to be protesting about these things, I'm just saying that I'm recognising for myself that the compulsive element of it that I've been experiencing is linked to a false belief that I was responsible for my abuse, so if I "fix" the negative threat outside of me, then I can make the world safe for me and everyone else.

I've heard well meaning people posting elsewhere that it is "our responsibility" and it's "down to us" to make these women's voices heard. That's a bit of a dangerous road to go down actually. Is it our responsibility? We're doing the best we can and following our conscience but if it's anyone's responsibility it's those who are with the duty of care for fans and employees. When over-responsibility is a trauma trait, it's a bit of a guilt trip thing to say to people.

So having only just really realised the extent to which I've been triggered by all of this I would say to everyone be gentle with yourselves and others, because I realized there were at least three aspects of this that were triggering me. Not just the SA, but the aspect of not being heard, of people being invested in hiding the abuse and the narcissistic behaviour of the abuser which I've also experienced as an adult.

And now I'm framing it in this context it helps me to understand that everybody has a different response to trauma. My siblings had a different response to me and although I originally felt angry at them that they weren't seeing the truth and they were in denial, I realise now that that's the only way that they could deal with it.

So some people in this fandom will want to carry on getting the support that they have done from the material and that's fine. And others will want to go out and bang a drum and blow trumpets and tell everybody and that's also fine and all of that is perfectly valid. It doesn't have to be that we're on different sides with this, we have to recognize the perpetrator and not blame each other.

I've added this link here for some additional resources if anyone feels that they want to understand more about complex trauma. And it doesn't have to be something that's been diagnosed or even extreme but I think that we all have and we all carry some degree of trauma and what's happened in terms of trust here with Neil Gaiman is a definite kind of trauma.

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

pt IX good omens on livestream, i'm not ok: S1E4

You did it, Good Omens fandom, my dear maggots. You broke me in every way. Now I'm here, and where I once spent my day peacefully being sad about normal things, I'm now sad about a random fact about nightingales I learned on a British ornithology site and this is just... the brainrot. It's real. Raise brainrot awareness. Prevention is better than the nonexistent cure.

Well, I've procrastinated this post by like 48 hours by drawing fanart and being mopey over Crowley and generally being asleep because I'm still on antibiotics and ill. So let us not procrastinate further. First, episode 4. Tally, hoes!

In preparation for the stream, I gathered two emotional support oranges, only one of which was gaseous, and an apple. This was so that rather than waste an orange on being gay for Crowley I'd use the apple for that, symbolic of his temptation in the Garden of Eden etc. I didn't know how badly this plan would go.

On Discord, our collective loins girded, I noticed with no small suspicion that everyone was muttering about the bookshop and whether I'd be okay. When I demanded frantically what happened to the bookshop (I THOUGHT EVERYTHING WAS IN S2) everyone shut up and told me the bookshop was in tiptop shape and it was all tickety-boo and nothing would happen at all in episode 5.

Spoiler alert it is not all tickety-boo.

We start with Aziraphale going for a jog to keep uh fit for exercising with Crowley, and he is interrupted by Gabriel, who is not Jimbriel, and is not naked, that is, we cannot see his arse yet, but we can see that he is an arse.

We then see not-Newt the deliveryman with his wife Maude and they are the only straight couple that the people on the chat care about. Calling him not-Newt is going to pose problems for me.

Crowley is being a smart baby, and researching astronomy. Poor Crowley. I love Crowley. Do you understand? I LOVE CROWLEY.

There is a lot of talk of spoons and forks and such innuendos. I make a joke about scissors being missing. The chat does not notice. I am disappointed in the gays.

I am so engrossed in the way Death says "deeAaaAAthHHhh" that I fail to notice Not-Newt get killed delivering a message to Death. This is going to pose problems for me.

I forgot about the apocalypse plotline till the horsepeople arrive. This is understandable. I care not for this 'world' ending, my new world is Crowley. I love Crowley.

Duck aliens fucking descend. This is not a joke. There are duck aliens, and they are supportive of trans people. Newt does not count their nipples.

The Shad guy doesn't care Newt found aliens. He is upset that Newt didn't find witches. If Shad was mowing his lawn and found gold, he would toss it aside because he is focused on mowing. I can respect that. People make jokes about Newt eventually finding a witch.

It is suddenly a Christopher Nolan movie. Someone corrects me and says it's more like Jerry Bruckheimer. I do not know what that is.

Someone says Crowley destroys the Bentley but for whatever reason, like a lot of people before, makes it a black box that you have to click to read. I don't mind that, I like clicking.

Aziraphale bought out a theatre for Crowley, like a Kdrama where the rich CEO buys out an entire theatre for his working class girl.

Adam goes through what I went through with OCD. It is not fun.

It is now a horror movie. Adam floats in the air. That was not a symptom I had with OCD.

Crowley asks Aziraphale to run away with him to the stars. Aziraphale says no. Crowley is upset and my baby Azi looks so sad and confused about everything he believes in. Great. I'm totally fine, I think as I start stuffing my emotional support orange into my mouth.

It is now a Home Alone movie. Crowley in gloves is sexy. Mmmmmmm yes. Crowley does great advertising for plant spray bottles as he murders and threatens demons.

I point out that the GO book says Crowley can do "weird things with his tongue" as I learned from the GO scent guide company page. It was after all the most relevant take-away from that page.

Disco Tony arrives. This is not a safe space.

AZIRAPHALE KEEPS TRYING TO DO THE RIGHT THING AND IS FAILED BY HEAVEN LEAVE MY BABY AZI ALONE WTF GO AWAY. THE ANGELS WALL SLAM HIM TOO. THAT'S CROWLEY'S THING YOU BASTARDS.

Newt and Anathema are cute. I DON'T NOTICE BECAUSE IM SO UPSET HE'S CHEATING ON MAUDE AND WONDERING WHY THE CHAT IS OKAY WITH IT BECAUSE I AM A FOOL WHO CONTINUES TO MIX UP NEWT WITH NOT-NEWT AND THEN THE CHAT TELLS ME NOT-NEWT DIED AND I'M CONFUSED.

Newt and Anathema are having sex. As an aspec person, I am very alarmed at the visuals.

Azi is failed by heaven and the metatron. Shocker. Fucking get away from Azi. Azi is miserable and looks like he wants to cry.

AZI IS EXORCISED AND THE FUCKING FLAME CATCHES IN THE BOOKSHOP AND THE EPISODE ENDS.

TAKE MY PAIN MOTHERFUCKERS. I WILL POST THIS AND THEN WRITE THE EP5 PART.

[zarvasace]

Oh, questions about your new au, you say???

How did the chain come to be at this facility place? Did any of them know each other 'before'?

Thanks child XD

Mostly kidnappings, though sometimes they got duped by a fake event of some kind (e.g. Time went to a "job interview" and never came back.) They arrived in game release order—so Hyrule first, and Wild last, though Legend at least had been at a different one previously. Really I'm just going for maximum angst here

I haven't pinned down all the backstories yet, so I don't know if any of them knew each other before! That would be interesting, I can imagine it would get us some good stuff. Hmmm thinking thoughts.

Here's a snippet of a scene just after Time arrives:

Hyrule has become very good at making card castles. This current one is up to three levels. He picks up two more worn cards, specific ones that have small rips in similar spots, and balances them just perfectly against each other. He pulls his hands away and nods.  “I know a little bit of how, and a little bit of why, but not all of it,” Legend says. He picks an old, chipped glass out of a cupboard and takes it to the aluminum sink to fill it up with some water.  “At this point, I'll take anything,” the new guy responds from one of the few plastic chairs that doesn't have a leg cap missing. It doesn't wobble when he leans back.  He's older than Hyrule had expected, middle-aged with a few grays in his stubble, though he doesn't know why he'd expected someone younger. To hear Legend tell it, these people don't care about age. Hyrule doesn’t know how much of Legend’s information is colored by Legend’s resentment, but he thinks it's mostly accurate, anyway.  Legend turns around to lean against the cheap countertop and sips at it, still somewhat flushed from his exercise. He's supposed to get water from the filter, but he enjoys rebelling where he can. If he keeps this up, though, Hyrule suspects they might lose the sink altogether, or cups or something. Whatever. It isn't as if they use it much.  “Did you give blood sometime recently?” Legend asks.  “Last week,” the new guy answers.  “Then that’s how they found you. There's a tell in our blood that means we're able to take these changes. That's why we're all here.”  The new guy scowls. “And I'm going to assume that, due to the less-than-legal way I got here”—that’s a nice way of saying was kidnapped, Hyrule knows—“that we don't exactly have a release date?”  Legend finishes his glass and fills it up a second time. “We're here until they can't use us anymore.” “So until we die.” “Pretty much. And who knows what our life expectancy is now.” Hyrule glances over to see the new guy close his eyes as if he's trying very hard to keep himself from exploding. It wouldn't change anything if he did. Hyrule goes back to his card castle. He's about to finish the third layer, without any aids like books this time.  “So we’re looking for some kind of escape plan?” the new guy says.  Hyrule pulls his hands away gently from a completed third layer. “Our next one had better be very good. I don't like getting caught.” “You've tried before?” “Of course. Several times.” Hyrule remembers each with dwindling clarity as time goes on. He can't bring himself to stop trying, especially because Legend hasn't, but there really aren't a lot of ways out of here.  The new guy leans forward again to rest his forearms on the wobbly table. The wobble is why Hyrule is building his castle on the floor. “How long, exactly have you been here?”  Hyrule looks over at the out-of-date calendar propped up against the wall on the countertop and counts on his fingers. “Almost ten months.” The new guy looks startled. “Ten months?”  Legend and Hyrule exchange a look, and Legend puts down his glass after emptying it a third time. He sighs. “About five years total, myself. Not entirely here here, but definitely not out there.” “You're kidding.” The new guy shades his eyes with a hand.  “Afraid not, old man.”

[nyaagolor]

YEAHHHHHH JULINEMS RIGHTS!!! Do you have any headcanons for them? They’re my absolute fav

Making hcs for ships involving the protagonists is kinda tough because they're a blank slate so this is me kinda just. Making up a personality for Juliana I hope that's ok!

I think it wasn't actually Juliana's battle prowess that made Nemona so clingy, it was more the combination of Juliana being new / not having any preconceptions about Nemona + Juliana being so open

Nemona is very, VERY used to people having ideas about her before she meets them, so Juliana was the first time Nemona had a friendship that wasn't an uphill battle and she went totally overboard with it

Honestly I just think they get along like a house on fire. Both are so friendly and enthusiastic that there wasn't even like a slow buildup or anything they just locked eyes and immediately became besties

Neither of them could tell you when they started to develop more romantic feelings, but it was around the League that they both realized what was up and put a name to it

In my little timeline, the Nemona battle is the climax of the pre-The-Way-Home story, so Penny and Arven are there to cheer them on. I'm sappy, so I think the girls kiss. The real winner of the battle is Love

They're practically attached at the hip. It's not that they can't or won't do things alone, but their similar schedules and interests and desire for friends and physical touch means they're super compatible and hang out all the time. They live by the buddy system, but their other friends are a little more reserved

They like to train and exercise together! However, they're not really ones for traditional dates, and are "the more the merrier" type ppl. They'd rather have a big picnic than a candlelit dinner and invite all their friends to their "romantic getaways" which mostly involve running up mountains and seeing how far off a cliff they can jump on Koraidon

Despite their love of hanging out together they're not really a PDA couple, so for a LONG time all the teachers thought they were just really good friends. And they are! But they also kiss sometimes

Honestly my entire view of their relationship is just two really high energy friends but Also they kiss sometimes

[inventors-fair]

Second Color: Hybrid Legend Runners-up ~

Our runners-up this week are @bergdg, @real-aspen-hours, and @yourrightfulking!

@bergdg — Tajic, Obzedat Champion

I almost forgot that Teysa was the other champion for the Orzhov, whoops. Regardless: once more this is exactly what the prompt was looking for, and we've got an awesome card on our hands here. I think that there were one or two other guild leaders/maze runners that were being thrown around. I like the notion of having all the leaders being swapped in some alternate world, where the circumstances led them to being tossed and turned and thrown into these strange situations in the eternal city.

I almost wish there was more of a mechanical connection to either Tajic in some way—or at least a kind of callback. Of course I don't necessarily want an inverted or direct response, but I feel that there could've been a bit more of a nod or nudge. Boros is pretty solidly in the aggressive department, though, so I wonder what one could've done. As we have it, though, the card you've made is an excellent midrange legend, a great finisher, perfect for the hybrid, and strong enough to brew with. Honestly can't ask for much more as far as the nitty-gritty goes.

@real-aspen-hours — Zimone, Pyrotechnician

Isn't it annoying how "once per turn" is an awesome English turn of phrase, but it doesn't ever appear on cards? I've done the same thing so many times... But it groks, and I'm on your team. What I'm slightly mechanically worried about is the fact that, if you're hellbent, this is just a one-sided Howling Mine. Still—easy fix, right? Make it an "if you do" kinda thing and say that they only get to draw if they've discarded. The card draw from the original Zimone was direct and constructive, and this one is searching and creative. Zimone's original activations were calculated and activated, and this one is about the right experiments at the right time. I mean, it's a pretty perfect inversion that captures both her character and her card in a world where she's on the Prismari track.

Some folks pointed out the flavor text, and I really do have to commend the lighthearted mood that you've made here. Zimone would be brilliant no matter what school she went to, and I think a world where she exercises in experiments instead of mathematical study is a fantastic move. The alternate Strixhaven might not have changed much, but the characters within matter more. I wonder what the tracks would be like with allied-color combinations... Hm... But this is enough conjecture for a stamp of approval. Well—once you change the last sentence, too. Right now you're literally just exiling and countering the spell. It should read: "If that spell would be put into your graveyard, exile it instead."

@yourrightfulking — Geralf and Gisa, Tragic Siblings

More semi-lighthearted fare? I suppose that it's fair, considering the slightly distorted nature of these worlds, but regardless. I want to pause and say that the mechanics of this card are a little lacking for me. If the white card draw is indeed allowed (and I'm honestly not sure it is, even limited to one turn), then that's fine, but I wonder if having it look at spirit tokens or enchantments might've been a little better for the hybrid blend. Cost reduction is totally fine, though. It's a perfectly fine card to slot into the archetype, and I think I like how you chose to go with the same world but with a singular different timeline moment, rather than imply a whole new AU.

The real tragedy of Gisa's death is made strangely peaceful here, even on Innistrad. Geralf is a good brother, though, and he always has been. He's also always been brilliant, and I love that you've changed the dynamic completely. I have a few friends that are deeply invested in sibling and twin dynamics, and would absolutely adore this card. Personally, I don't have the same ardor as them, but there's something about how Geralf would have to constantly protect his sister from being released to the Blessed Sleep, how he's so devoted here to the study of spirits, that he can stay with Gisa as they have their fun. I think that you've touched upon a deep and interesting pairing here. Great job.

Commentary as it comes. See y'all later. @abelzumi

[overtrred28]

Stargirl | matildas x original character fic [part nine]

Words; 2.9k

Pairings; matildas team x astrid taylor (OC)

Warnings; swearing, mentions of injury (no blood)

A/N; i kinda forgot to upload this earlier sorry

masterlist

Astrid was diligent with the slow and gentle rehab she had been doing, wanting to be better for the next Matildas camp only a month away now. It had been just over two weeks and she had been advised four to six for total recovery, but she was itching to be part of that squad against Canada, even if she only got a few minutes of playing time. 

She worked with the physios everyday to bring her strength back up in her ankle, eventually being able to walk around without the boot after three weeks and Astrid felt good. Without there being any tears or extreme damage to the tendons or ligaments, the time frame had just been an extra precaution because of her high intensity exercise and sport, wanting it to heal undisturbed as much as it could before she jumped back into football. 

By the time this next international call up was here Astrid had just begun jogging again on the pitch, passing the ball between her feet and it was like she was a different person than she had been for the past 6 weeks. She had formed a new appreciation for being able to play at the level she was and getting to do it with her best friends at a club that motivated her. 

The time had come and Astrid had never been more excited to go on a camp, the senior players who hadn’t been there for the last camp returning, the squad back together again to play against Canada. They had all made sure to check in on Astrid after hearing about or seeing her injury, encouraging her to keep going and get back onto that pitch, knowing how useful her skills are when up against tough opponents. 

The games were in Australia this time, meaning Astrid was finally going home for the first time since moving to Sweden, and her parents promised they would be there to cheer her on at the Sydney game. 

After a long day of travel the sweden squad, plus Mini and Harper, were so happy to be back on aussie soil and head straight to the hotel. The car ride from the hotel was full of chatter, all of the players trying not to fall asleep, aiming to hold on until bedtime. The car pulled up and they started getting out of the car, going and collecting their bags from the boot to take inside. 

They received their room numbers and went to drop their bags off, the rooming changing again and Astrid finding herself rooming with Kyra for the first time. 

“This one's mine.” Astrid placed her backpack on the bed closest to the window. 

“Oh so if someone comes to murder us they can get me first?” Kyra stood in front of the other bed, looking at the distance between the door and where she would be sleeping.

“Not what I was thinking, but sure.” Astrid shrugged with a smile. “Come on, let's go to dinner before they eat all the food.” She walked to the door with her phone and keycard, putting her arm out for Kyra to link her own. They left the room, skipping arm in arm down the hallway to the lifts, laughing as they almost tripped about seven times. 

They found their way to the room that had been turned into the team dining room, being easily directed by the noise coming from the girls in there. When they walked in it seemed they were the last to arrive, not surprising of course, the pair known for being late to things all the time. 

“Look who decided to show up.” The room quieted down as Sam spoke loudly, walking up next to Astrid. 

“Oh Sammy, you know I like to make an entrance.” Astrid smiled at her, parts of the room laughing before they pulled each other in for a hug. 

“How’s the ankle?” Sam asked as they stood together. 

“Yeah a lot better definitely.” Astrid nodded, looking down at her taped ankle. 

“Good.” Sam smiled. “Go and get something to eat, kid, catch up more later.” Sam nodded her head in the direction of the buffet, Astrid turning around, instantly spotting Kyra walking away with a full plate, both laughing as they made eye contact. 

Astrid grabbed some food and went to sit at the table where the “original trio” and Steph sat, slotting between the two Arsenal players. 

“Asteroid!” Mackenzie all but yelled across the table, reaching across for a fist bump which was returned with a smile from Astrid. 

“Hey chicken.” Steph spoke from beside her, Astrid instantly rested her head on Steph’s shoulder. 

“Hey Stephy. How are you?” Astrid moved her head to look up at Steph. 

“I’m good, how you feeling?” Steph squeezed her shoulder. 

“Real good.” She smiled and then began eating, catching up with the other girls on the table, hearing all about their time off and where they spent it. 

The team had a mini bonding night, deciding to put a movie on the projector in the dining room before they all headed off to bed. Those with movie suggestions wrote them down and they were placed into a hat for a random draw. 

“And the winner is…” Sam shuffled her hand around in the hat. “Hannah Montana The Movie?” Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

“YES!” A shout was heard and everyone turned their heads. Astrid had shot up from her seat, very happy her favourite movie had been chosen. 

“Were you not like a baby when this came out?” Caitlin asked the youngest member. 

“I was five.” Astrid calmly spoke. A few gasps came from the room, a lot of the players again shocked at how young she really was compared to them. “Enough with the questions, it’s movie time.” She had taken control of the remote, searching for the movie and pressing play. 

Throughout the movie everyone could hear Astrid singing along, dancing in her seat and even mouthing most of the script, a few of them filming her from behind. Then came the scene in the barn and ‘Hoedown Throwdown’ began to play, Astrid let out a small squeal before standing up at the front of the screen.

She began to do the choreography while facing away from the screen, she had learnt it off by heart from the amount of times she had watched it. Everyone sat in shock as she did the dance with precision, not knowing she had it in her. 

When it was done she took a bow, the group cheered and clapped loudly as she sat back down next to Charli and Kyra. The room went silent again, all paying attention to the rest of the movie. 

“Nice dance moves.” Kyra leant over and whispered to Astrid after a while. Astrid just shook her head and giggled. 

The movie finished and to most people's surprise they enjoyed it, something lighthearted and fun to watch before bed. Most of the girls were very tired after travel, Astrid thought she might be too but I guess the excitement of the movie brought her energy back. 

Everyone began to stand, stretching out their limbs while the credits rolled, all watching Astrid who was still dancing around to the music in front of the screen, singing loudly along to the words. 

The music stopped abruptly and so did Astrid’s dancing. Having enough with the upbeat song and Astrid’s energy, Mackenzie had found the remote and turned off the screen. 

“I wasn’t done.” Astrid whined to the taller girl. 

“Yeah you are, bedtime little one.” She patted Astrid’s head and laughed at her pout and eyeroll. Mackenzie headed for the door, Kyra coming over to push Astrid along and drag her off to their room for bed. 

As per usual, when she was done getting ready for bed, Astrid’s head hit the pillow and she was out like a light, the aftermath of long travel taking control and she fell straight to sleep. 

The next morning after getting ready, Kyra and Astrid headed down to breakfast with a little more energy after having slept a decent amount of hours, ready to begin training with the team. 

The first match was still two days away so they had some time to work with each other after months apart now that everyone had arrived. But playing with people on the same club team definitely helps in creating rhythms and relationships on and off the pitch. 

A quick gym session was first up upon arriving at the stadium, everyone working individually on what they needed to before proper training. Astrid was quick to take control of the music to play over the speakers, waiting to show off the playlist she had accumulated. It did feature a lot of Taylor, Hannah Montana and One Direction but she also added plenty of 2000s, 90s and even 80s songs into the mix for everyone to enjoy. Safe to say everyone was happy with Astrid being the DJ after seeing everyone sing or at least bop along to many of the songs. Maybe she would become the team's newly appointed DJ.

They finished in the gym and moved to the pitch, Astrid chatting with Caitlin while they walked out, catching up more than they did last night and Astrid asking about Arsenal and what it was really like. She parted ways with Caitlin after spotting Charli who was chatting with Kyra, Mini and Alex. She ran over and practically jumped on her, gripping the blonde's shoulders who let out a small scream at the impact. 

“Heyyyyy, Cha Cha.” Astrid peaked her head over Charli's shoulder who shrugged the girl off and began walking away from her with a smirk. “Ruuuude.” Astrid yelled at her as she followed behind to where everyone congregated. 

“Alrighty ladies, you know the drill.” Assistant coach Jens yelled out, indicating it was time to begin their session with a jog to warm up. 

“Ughhhhh, I hate this.” Astrid panted out halfway during the jog. “Can I be done yet?” She yelled as they passed the coaches. 

“Does your ankle hurt?” Jens raised a brow. 

“No.” And she kept going, picking up her pace to make it finish faster. She all but crumbled to the ground once she reached the end of the jog, having not run that much since her injury. 

“You good there?” A body covered the sun that was shining over her eyes. 

“I am now.” She smiled at Kyra who was extending an arm to help her up. 

Jens called them over to where they had now set up the circuit for the drills. Astrid liked this part a lot better than the initial jog, ready to hone in her skills and get back into her rhythm of passes and shooting goals. 

They had gone through their regular training drills before moving to work on separate skills in groups of their field positions. So tragically Astrid and Charli had to part ways, Caitlin dragging a pouting Astrid towards the group of forwards and Charli waving dramatically as she walked backwards to the defenders. 

After weeks of just doing small passes to build back up, Astrid was finally able to begin shooting goals again; the main thing she loved about playing football. One of the coaches would pass a ball to the running player and then they would shoot it in, aiming for a different part of the net each time. The goalkeepers had joined them to practise blocking the goals, Astrid was holding the lead against Sam for how many they could get past Lydia. 

“OHHHHH. Another one! And with the left foot!” Astrid ran with outstretched arms after she slotted another ball past Lydia, bringing her total to 6 and Sam just behind with 5. “She’s back and better than ever, baby.” Astrid circled Sam, the other forwards watching and laughing at her antics. 

“Piss off.” Sam shoved the younger striker away, taking her place to accept the next pass. With bad luck to Sam, Lydia had just tapped it away and then the whistle blew to signal the end of drills.  

“Sucked in, oldie.” Astrid whispered as she skipped away to the sideline.

“Get back here you little shit!” Sam huffed and began chasing the girl with a smile on her face, Astrid panicked and began running. 

“STEPHY! SAVE ME!” Astrid screamed as she approached ,the defender turning her head to see Sam chasing after Astrid. Astrid made it to the vice captain and stood behind her panting, hiding from the other captain. 

“Enough you two.” Steph put on a stern voice and looked between the two players. 

“She called me old.” Sam pleaded, going to speak again but Tony had interrupted her from further down the sideline. 

“Alrighty, scrimmage time.” The team began walking closer to him, taking a drink and breath break. “Sam and Steph, come and select your teams.” He tossed the red bibs to Sam for her team and the yellow to Steph. 

They had chosen their players, taking the defenders, then midfielders and finally their forwards. It was down to the two youngest forwards, Mary and Astrid. Steph got first pick so it was up to her, and knowing the passes Kyra and Astrid can make, it wasn’t hard.

“Astrid, you're with me.” Steph beckoned the girl over to her team, glad that it consisted of herself, Steph, Kyra, Charli, Lydia, Cortnee, Clare W, Mini, Alanna, Princess and Tameka. Sam’s team had Caitlin, Mary, Larissa, Emily Van Egmond, Emily Gielnik, Courtney, Aivi, Macca, Alex and Clare P. 

The game began and Sam’s team took good possession straight away but the defence between Charli, Alanna and Steph was strong. 10 minutes in and Kyra had stolen the ball from Larissa, running with it until she could see Astrid making her way into free space further up the pitch. Kyra booted it into the air, ending at Princess who hit it with her chest towards Astrid, right foot ready to catch it.

The tip of her boot brought it to the ground so she could steady her footing, quickly sending it towards the goal through Mackenzie’s still legs, thinking she was going to send it higher like usual. The net rippled and the young player cheered, running back to her position with a high five to her teammates as she went by. 

Tony blew the whistle to indicate the end of the match. It had ended in a 2-2 draw, everyone going around and high fiving each other. 

“Good game, Astrid.” Sam smiled at the young striker. She wouldn’t admit it outloud but she did think maybe one day she could give her a run for her money, seeing a lot of herself at that age in Astrid.

“You too, Sam.” Astrid gave her hand a shake and a clap on the back as they began to walk to the side for a drink. 

“Alright everyone in.” Tony’s voice carried through the team who began walking over to form a loose huddle, too hot to make it tight. “Well done today, very impressed with everyone’s efforts. Even after not playing altogether for a while you showed that no matter what you are a strong team. Off to recovery and then the day is all yours, I’ll see you tomorrow for match day minus 1.” Tony nodded with a smile. Everyone clapped before they made their way inside and headed straight for the cold pools. 

Astrid was the first one in the pool, loving the cold water from growing up at a beach during the winter, going for swims no matter the weather. Everyone else of course thought she was crazy to enjoy the cold water and her eagerness to get in it. 

The next day at training looked very similar to the day before but the physios had been keeping an eye on Astrid, being so soon off an injury. She felt great, really. It didn’t hurt and her ankle felt strong, continuing to work and train to be a sub for tomorrow's game. 

An early dinner of their usual pre-match pasta night was followed by an early bed for all the players, especially for those who had travelled from overseas all but a few days ago. Everyone bid each other goodnight before retiring to their rooms. 

Kyra had called the shower first, knowing from the previous night how long Astrid really did take on her skincare. Once they were both finished and had set an alarm, they lay in their separate beds, room silent, spare the aircon blowing softly. 

“I think you’ll start tomorrow.” Astrid spoke, turning in her bed to face Kyra’s. 

“Really?” Kyra also shifted, finding Astrid’s eyes in the dark room. 

“Yeah, I mean you’ve been working really hard and I think they can tell.” Astrid smiled softly at the girl. 

“Thank you.” Kyra also smiled even if Astrid couldn’t really see it. “I think Tony will put you on, make use of your ‘super-sub’ reputation again.” Kyra let out a soft laugh. 

“Maybe.” Astrid shrugged under her covers. 

“Definitely. I’m calling it right now.” Kyra turned to lie on her back and look up at the ceiling. 

“Fine. But if you’re wrong, you’re buying me a coffee.” Astrid copied Kyra’s shift in movement. 

“Deal. But if I’m right, you buy me a coffee.” Kyra spoke again. 

“Okay.” Astrid’s voice was barely above a whisper as she felt herself drifting to sleep. “Goodnight, Ky Ky.” She spoke one last time before letting herself fall into the pillow. 

“Goodnight, Stargirl.” Kyra took one last look at Astrid before shutting her eyes and falling asleep herself, a soft smile etched on her face. 

to be continued...

[beatrixstonehill2]

"Well, it really happened! The rumors circulating are totally true, my former sister and I were pushed to attend a detrans bootcamp. Our families really wanted to see us experience this together and be openminded. Despite having socially transitioned in gradeschool and being on estrogen since forever (just look at the giant, fat breasts we developed as 'girls' 🤢), we didn't want to let our families down. Although we knew they wanted us to detrans for a while now. Guess they never lost faith even as we brought so many guys home and rode their cocks long into the night, our fat boy-tits bouncing and clapping together as we moaned like porn stars. Because of course almost everything we knew about being girls came from porn, so we acted like whores and slept with pretty much any guy who didn't mind that we both had a fat cock between our legs.

When we got to bootcamp we were surprised to learn we'd immediately be taken off estrogen, put on testosterone and drugs to help our cocks grow. We showed the people at the bootcamp our cocks were already eight inches and pretty thick but it wasn't good enough, apparently. So we reluctantly started going through male puberty, which was kind of fun. As twins it was nice going through this at the exact same time instead of one of us detransing over a boyfriend or something. So, we made the most of it and got used to life on this island paradise, surrounded by other trans girls who were all at least a little bit excited to detrans. Some were absolutely gorgeous, some of the prettiest 'girls' we've ever seen, and none of them were smaller breasted than a G-Cup.

We bonded and fucked at first, but as our bodies got more masculine, our voices dropped, we all grew facial hair but at least we were allowed to shave it. We started resembling guys too much to be turned on by each other anymore, and the bootcamp started making more sense. We went from staying near our huts and main camp, just eating and fucking like most girls, to going out, exploring, exercising, hunting, building more camps around the island, ladders, bridges, and other things to make getting around easier. Finally, testosterone was evolving us past being mindless fuckdolls....

We noticed the only other people but the sparse staff, who made sure we were fed and hydrated, were beautiful girls--yet we had no idea why. All over the island, there were clusters of cisgirls wearing skimpy island dresses, some barely clothed at all. We still had no idea what the objective of this bootcamp was, other than seeing our bodies turn male. Soon, we finally understood, right around the time we asked to finally have out huge boobs removed because they got in the way and we suddenly realized just how ridiculous they looked on us. It was around then we knew what the goal was. We had to do what men did--repopulate the island, so to speak. It was like a scavenger hunt to see how many girls we could get pregnant. The staff tallied it up and tested our DNA to make sure who the father was, meaning we had to be territorial. If we found a new group of girls who weren't pregnant we'd need to fuck them, keep them well-fucked, and prevent any of the other men from impregnating them.

We worked together as twins, so we had an advantage. I'd protect our budding harem, and my brother would go out, find new girls, abduct them or force them all back to our harem, tucked away on the far side of the island. The girls were all drop dead beautiful of course, thick with really big breasts, fat asses, juicy thighs, gorgeous faces, hand-picked from colleges all around the country, given fertility drugs, breast-growth drugs, and fed an ample diet to ensure they were curvy in just the right way that when our male brains awoke, we'd find it irresistible to breed them. The final tally was my brother and I matched with 64 of girls' broods, none of which were below quadruplets. We ranked the highest, narrowly beating out the girl I thought was the prettiest, a Korean-American trans girl with a set of K-Cup breasts, who I gleefully hooked up with my first night at bootcamp,

Now it's unfortunately time to go home, as all the girls we bred prepare for the next round of fakegirls to masculinize and get them severely knocked up. I think they're earning college credits? Either way, I'll miss our little harem, but all the more reason for my brother and I to come home, stalk the various colleges around us, local parks, maybe even a library or two where a few buxom young college girls might be tucked away, thinking they're safe. I think it's time we start up a new harem and use the prize money to buy a house to keep all of our new pets. They may be reluctant at first but soon enough our new harem of plump, fertile hucows will grow to love being our personal collection of mindless, baby-filled cum dumps. We'll see to it."

[gothearts]

How does Charlie finding out Aggie is an angel go?

Aggie doesn't go to heaven with Charlie. She's presumed to be a sinner, and sinners cannot leave Pride Charlie is made to go and confront Heaven herself. But it still plays out how it does in canon, with different consequences. I never really got the whole "didn't know angels could be hurt" thing since.. her eye and wings. Rather, she didn't have the will to fight back and withheld the information from Charlie that the spear she's been carrying this whole time could have provided defense. That's what Charlie is most mad at. The lying was one thing, but Aggie, who's been by her side since the hotel opened, keeping her morale boosted... Willingly sat back and sheltered with her while sinners and hellborn were dying, saying nothing. It comes after the hotel's residents have just barely begun to get along. So for the sake of not jeopardizing progress, Charlie holds her tongue. Yes, I know Charlie's whole character so far has been her shoving the cast into difference therapy exercises, but it's one thing to preach it, let alone practice it. She gets a nasty wake up call on how sometimes "sorry" cannot fix everything. (You can't become a therapist by reading a few articles online. I think that's the level of naivete she went into this with.) She's never faced a conflict of this degree. And that causes her to begin questioning what she's even doing here. She thought a trust exercise was going to be enough to get through to an addict. She's in over her head.

Charlie's mental turmoil combined with the upcoming threat of another extermination causes tension in the hotel. Her and Aggie have been sleeping in separate rooms. Aggie is walking on eggshells, afraid to lose the one person who gave her any sense of true meaning.. And Husk, ever the intuitive one, knows there's something more here. He just wasn't expecting the breakdown induced confession of it all that Charlie spews at him. He can handle a lovers quarrel or two. But what does one do when the princess of hell is currently sobbing on your bar top because her sinner girlfriend is actually an angel and "oh yeah, btw, Heaven is still coming to kill you early this year". It crushes what little trust Angel had begun to form. The hotel was becoming a safe place for him. Like in canon, he only joined to avoid rent and save up enough to try and escape Val. Now there's a target that's been put on his head directly all because of Charlie. She was already on strike one after what she pulled in Val's studio. But that just ticked her up straight to strike three. And he's out of there. Husk and Nifty have to stay. In this au, Nifty and Aggie have formed a sister relationship. But I'd imagine Nifty would disavow their relationship. And Husk gives the cold shoulder. Pentious attempts to console Charlie the same way she had done for him when he first arrived, but it leads to her snapping at him and him leaving too. And that just leaves Charlie with Alastor "truly" in her corner. Al doesn't do this to help her, no, nope totally not. He just can't have her becoming broken when he still needs her. So he does offer up the information he overheard from Carmilla about having more angelic steel. He doesn't make a deal with her, rather he uses it to further this idea that he genuinely wants the best for her. They still end up going to see Rosie, while Aggie is made to go and speak to Carmilla if she wants to make things right. Carmilla and Aggie still have the whole "out for love" sequence, where Carmilla shows her that fighting doesn't have to be for the sake of keeping others in line. Fighting can come from a good place in the heart, and Aggie, in her heart, wants nothing more than to keep fighting for Charlie. To which Carmilla would tell her not to forget to fight for herself. Fight for her home, her friends, her right to be who she wants to be. That's why she's able to regain her wings, finding a new sense of purpose, not only seeing herself as an attachment to Charlie who's there to make her wish come true, but Charlie's partner. Her equal. Charlie will lift her up and stand by her side, even if she's not the perfect soldier. Charlie was angry with her, and rightfully so, but she didn't cast her out. And with Rosie, Charlie gets a lesson in perspective. She's been running off her point of view, not even for a second stopping to thing about where Aggie was coming from. Just like she's been running the hotel based off what she thinks should work, not taking into account the diverse backgrounds that causes a sinner to fall. It's through both revelations that the two are able to overcome it. I imagine that they have a heart to heart, with Aggie finally telling Charlie her true name and what heaven was like. And Charlie reaffirming that Aggie can stand on her own two feet, and though it'll be scary.. Charlie will never turn her back on her, no matter what the future holds.

[ninchen1909]

The Teacher and the Mob Boss

Pairing: Mob! Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Very short mention of an traumatic childhood

I'm froom Germany so please excuse my English an possible mistakes.

enjoy:)

With a deep breath I turn off the engine of my car, let my forehead sink against the steering wheel and close my eyes. I struggle with the need to simply drive home again and snuggle into my bed, which I had to leave far too early this morning. But since I have to finance my love of food, wine and Netflix somehow, I quickly dismiss these thoughts and reluctantly open the car door to get out.

Immediately, the cool September air surrounds me and makes me shiver, in small but steady steps mother nature heralds the autumn and makes the trees that surround the school shine in the most colorful colors.

After grabbing my work bag and locking my car, I walk across the already well-filled school parking lot towards the main entrance. As I have done so many times before, I take the direct route to my classroom and unlock the door, which I immediately let fall back into the lock behind me so that I can enjoy the peace and quiet for a little while longer. I have already done most of the preparations during the holydays, so now I only have to wait for my 2nd graders,to greet them.

I'm just picturing the new school year in my mind when the door to my classroom is yanked open and my colleague is standing in front of me with her eyes wide open, clutching a single piece of paper in her left hand while still holding the doorknob with her right. Her chest rises rapidly and she is audibly out of breath.

I raise an eyebrow questioningly, "Good morning Wanda, is this your new way of early morning exercise?" I grin at her, however this is not reciprocated by her.

"How can you please be in such a good mood?", uncomprehending I look at her, with a shrug of my shoulders I let her know that I have no idea what she means. Wordlessly she hands me the paper.

"This is my class list, I already went through it during the holydays." I look at Wanda over the edge of the paper, her breathing has calmed down by now, but her eyes still look at me uncomprehendingly and also a bit pitifully.

"(y/n) you should read through the letter "B" again more carefully.", I let my eyes glide over the relevant place and indeed, there is a name there that I haven’t read before.

"Charlotte Barnes?", I draw my eyebrows together.

"She was enrolled during the vacations, and her father went to see the principal himself for this."

"Since when does Mr. Stark let parents interfere with his free time? And why are you making such a drama over a new kid?"

"We're talking about Barnes (y/n), James Barnes, Charlotte is his daughter, Barnes daughter will be going to this school, your class to be exact. James Barnes is the biggest ma..." The shrill ringing of the school bell snaps us out of our conversation, I jump up from my chair and rush to the door to greet my students. I look expectantly at Wanda and ask her to leave with a wave of my hand

"(y/n) please listen to m.."

"Wanda not now, I have to greet my students, we will talk later." It is clear to see that Wanda does not like this suggestion, however, she reluctantly leaves my classrooms. After I greet all my students and everyone has found a seat, I go through the attendance list, only to notice that one child is missing."

"Do any of you happen to know where Charlotte Barnes is?" no sooner do I finish this sentence than the door to my classroom is yanked open for the second time that day. Standing in the doorway is a tall, broad built man with ice blue eyes and dark blonde hair, in total contrast to him is a small, petite girl standing in front of him holding the straps of her "Paw Patrol" backpack tightly in her hands, she gives me a bright smile that reveals a gap in her teeth. With firm steps she approaches me and extends a hand "Hi, my name is Charlotte, sorry we're late but Uncle Stevie took too long to do my hair." I get down to her eye level, look briefly at her admittedly rather crooked braids and smile at her "Good morning Charlotte, my name is Mrs. (y/l/n), glad you're here, would you like to go ahead and find a seat." the little girl nods, beaming, and goes to find an empty seat.

"Mrs. (y/l/n) could I speak to you for a moment." "Uncle Stevie" nods his head towards the hallway, at my slight nod, he disappears towards the hallway

"Kids I'll be right back with you, you can talk quietly with each other for so long." No sooner have I spoken than the kids start whispering to each other about their vacation, I on the other hand follow "Uncle Stevie" out into the hallway.

"Mrs. (y/l/n), my name is Steve Rogers and I'm really sorry we were late, I just really don't have much practice with hair clips, usually her dad does her hair, he just had some urgent business to take care of."

"Mr. Rogers, as long as this tardiness was a one-time thing, it's really not a problem, however, I have to admit that it's very unusual for a child to not be brought by their parents on their first day at a new school, if they are still in the child's life."

"Believe me, her father would have loved to bring her, however, he really had to make this appointment urgently." Mr. Rogers takes a step toward me and eyes me appraisingly.

"I understand, however, in my opinion, work should never come before one's child, now if you will excuse me, I have to get back to my class."

Without waiting for a proper response, I give him a curt nod, turn and walk back to my classroom. As I stand in front of my class, I briefly gather my thoughts and try to banish the emerging images from my childhood back into the last cells of my consciousness, where they have been tucked away as best I can for years. Afterwards, I put on my best, if not most honest, smile for my class and begin the lesson.

The school day ends faster than I'd like and before I know it, I'm saying goodbye to my students and handing them over to their parents or the bus drivers.

Now it's just Charlotte and me standing in front of the school waiting for "Uncle Stevie" who’s going to pick Charlotte up.

Just as she is about to tell me her favorite dogs from "Paw Patrol", she interrupts herself with a loud "Papa" and rushes towards a tall man, who takes her in his arms, beaming with joy, and hugs her tightly. Slowly, I walk in their direction so as not to interrupt their greeting. When I finally stand in front of them, Charlotte grins at me and introduces me to her father: "Papa, this is Mrs. (y/l/n), she's my teacher and really nice." He takes note of this information with a grumbling "mhm" and grins at me before turning his attention back to his daughter, "Monkey, will you wait for me in the car, I'd like to talk to Mrs. (y/l/n) for a minute." He then holds the door of a white shiny Mercedes open for her to, which for some reason I hadn't noticed before, and helps her to fasten her seatbelt, when he has turned his back to me I start to examine him, in size and muscle mass he is in no way inferior to Mr. Rogers, his hair is cut short and only single strands of his brown hair hang down into his face. His steel-blue eyes are accentuated even more by his dark-blue designer suit, so that one could sink into it. I am able to escape my thoughts just in time as he carefully slams the door to his car, in which Charlotte is apparently engrossed in a radio play. He gives me a wry smile and extends his hand to me, "Hello Mrs. (y/l/n), my name is James Barnes, am Charlie's father, I thought I'd introduce myself since I learned through Steve that you think it's inappropriate for parents not to be present on the first day of school." Surprised, I look at his face, where a smug grin forms. Before I can answer him, he circles his car and opens the door, but before he gets in, he calls out to me, "It was nice to meet you, I'm sure we'll see more of each other." Puzzled, I look after the car as it drives away. My stupor doesn't last long, however, because shortly afterwards I feel someone approach me.

"I see you've met Mr. Barnes." Wanda looks at me auspicious, as if I've just revealed a huge secret, yet I can also see a spark of concern flashing in her green eyes.

"Yes I did, and I can tell you, I'm not a fan of him." I cross my arms in front of my chest and turn to her "he's arrogant and smug" a disdainful snort escapes me as my gaze settles back on the spot where his car was just a few minutes ago.

"(y/n), you should really be careful with him and not give him a reason to get angry." she gently places her hands on my folded arms, a silent plea to look her in the face.

"Why would I do that, I'm not going to treat him any different than any other parent, just because he walks around here in designer suits and whizzes by in luxury cars doesn't make him any better. Who does he think he is anyway."

"He's the biggest and most dangerous mob boss in our country, that's who he is."

And with this sentence from Wanda, the air gets stuck in my throat, and I look at her with eyes widened in terror.

[atmilliways]

Wrong On The Money (32)

part 32 of ?? | 1207 words | Teen+

Blackmail fic on Ao3 | on tumblr

Summary:

Steve bursts through the door like some sort of floppy haired, athletic puppy. “Hey Eds, look who I found!”  He’s dragging someone behind him by the wrist, and a very nonplussed Jeff waves hello.

(cw references to Billy's racism)

32.

Eddie has finally moved up from bed rest to shuffling around the house sometimes as long as he takes frequent breaks. Which he’s happy to do, because his PT exercises always kick his ass right into nap time. The new couch in the new living room is actually comfortable, and it's a relief to escape from his now over-familiar bedroom.

Steve bursts through the door like some sort of floppy haired, athletic puppy. “Hey Eds, look who I found!” 

He’s dragging someone behind him by the wrist, and a very nonplussed Jeff waves hello. Mouth dropping open, Eddie raises one hand for a weak wave back. 

“I have to go back to the store,” Steve says, all but bouncing on the balls of his feet as he circles back to the door. “I kinda forgot about groceries for a minute there, so, still need to get those. But you two should catch up!”

“Uh, okay?” Eddie says, and Steve flashes him a grin and two thumbs up before disappearing again. 

“What,” Jeff starts, sounding shaken, “just happened?”

Eddie shrugs. “Steve Harrington.”

“He knows where you live? He calls you Eds?”

“If it helps, the nickname is new. And, uh . . . he kind of lives here too. Loooong story.”

Jeff shoots him an incredulous look. Then he asks where the PBR is, shaking his head when Eddie admits that he can’t drink on his meds so there's none in the house. (“I can have one beer,” Eddie has whined many times, but always gets a blunt no from Wayne or Steve in response. He’s given up on sulking about it.)

First, they sit on the couch with a can of Coke each and catch up. 

Jeff’s family did leave Hawkins, but only until it was declared safe again. They’re staying with his aunt on the outskirts of town—and Eddie doesn’t know her number, which is why his calls never went through. Jeff’s actual house is still undergoing repairs before they can move back in. He’s taking a year off before college to take some of the financial pressure off his parents.

Gareth and his mom are camped out in a hotel, taking advantage of the government’s emergency subsidies for families whose houses were totally leveled. They’ll probably stay in town and buy new. 

“Frank’s folks had to move, though,” Jeff admits. “He’s on the other side of Roane County now. The high school over there doesn’t even have a D&D club.” A pause. “Oh, and I wrote to Margaret, she’s coming to visit next month to, and I quote, ‘take in the ineffable shitshow that is Hawkins, Indiana.’ I think New York is getting to her, man.”

And shit, it’ll be good to see Margaret again, same way it’s good to see Jeff and it’ll be good to see Gareth. Frank too, whenever he can swing by. Because the thing about being suddenly folded into a new friend group of monster hunters is . . . Eddie still misses his old gang. One is silver and the other’s gold, and all that bullshit. 

Eddie, for his part, gives a perfunctory explanation of the house (“Government restitution for our old place and my criminal record going through the meat grinder”) and Steve’s presence (“We talked it out, the past few months he’s just been . . . paying rent in advance”). 

Silence creeps in. Eddie sips at his Coke, slurping it in little mouthfuls as if that might continue to delay the inevitable. 

It doesn’t.

“So . . . what the hell happened, man?” 

Eddie tries not to look directly at his friend. “You mean to Hawkins?” He’d signed a shit-ton of NDAs while high off his ass on painkillers, but that still feels like the easier question to answer. 

“Dude, everyone knows about the earthquake,” Jeff scoffs. “I mean with Harrington. If you talked it out with him, why is he playing the Alfred to your Bruce Wayne?”

Thinking back to the demobats, Eddie snorts. If only Jeff knew. 

He doesn’t tell him, though. Not because of the legalities—fuck that shit, this whole mess was the government’s fault to begin with, he’s pretty sure. It’s just that, Eddie wishes he didn’t have to know. He’s not going to inflict that on a friend. 

But he does explain about Steve, more or less. 

“Okay,” Jeff says finally. “So you’re telling me that gas leak a few years ago killed Barbara Holland actually in his backyard, and the government covered it up but he still felt guilty for some reason, so he started making up for it by being less of a douchebag.” Pausing for a moment, Jeff frowns as he goes over it in his head the same way he would a campaign, ticking unspoken points off on his fingers. “The timeline works, I guess. . . . I don’t remember him causing much trouble for anyone after that fall. Hagan got worse, and Hargrove was a fucking nightmare, but the worst Harrington did was not be quite popular enough anymore to keep them in check.” Jeff looks up at Eddie. “And then . . . he started babysitting nerds? Our freshman nerds.”

They’d literally seen Steve pick the kids up from Hellfire games all school year—from a distance at first, and then close up once the blackmail had been set in motion. But Eddie gets it, because he hadn’t understood it at first either. 

“Dustin’s got him wrapped around his little finger,” he confirms. “All the little shits do. Remember when he came to school with his face all rearranged by Hargrove? Asshole was gunning for Lucas.”

That makes Jeff’s eyebrows twitch together and his mouth set in a grim line that Eddie doesn’t often see. Eddie can practically see his opinion on Steve going up based on Jeff’s own run-ins with Hargrove. “Christ.”

“Yeah.” Eddie plays with his now empty Coke can, pushing the aluminum sides in and then popping them back out again. “And then I fucking blackmailed him.”

“Not very successfully, though,” Jeff points out, scratching at the side of his jaw. “Not if his real motivation for giving you money was wanting to help out and work off some of his guilt about Barbara. Actually, he’s the one who led you on, and nobody was being intimidated by anybody. Which—I’m not going to say I told you so, but I definitely called it.”

Sputtering, Eddie tugs the tab off his can and flicks it at him. “Dick!”

“And are you still crushing on him hard?”

This time, he throws the whole can, but Jeff ducks it. 

“That’s a yes.”

“We’re friends now,” Eddie hisses, pulling hair across his face to hide his embarrassed flush. “He saved my life, and based on his cooking alone I think he’s slowly becoming Wayne’s favorite son. I can’t—”

“You said Steve was the one who brought up living with in the first place,” Jeff points out. “He knows you were both at that club for the same reason, maybe he’s . . . you know, interested. Did you ever think of that?”

“No,” Eddie grumbles, lying. “Look, Steve didn’t want to live under his asshole parents’ roof anymore. That’s it.”

He refuses to read anything else into it. That way madness lies, and too much seeing what he wants to see rather than what’s actually there. 

[azimachra]

You know what’s annoying? The fact that people are right about exercise. For years and years I told myself that I wasn’t an athlete. I’d tried more sports than I could count on my fingers and I was bad or disliked all of them. I’m slow so track didn’t work. Ice skating was fun but everyone started so much younger than I did and I felt like I would never catch up. My hand eye coordination and reaction time are actually terrible so tennis was a disaster. The list goes on.

Eventually I convinced myself that sports just weren’t for me. Everyone told me that being active in some way or another would improve my mood and help me get better sleep. I knew from experience that sports and being active would do nothing but make me (more) miserable. I relegated myself to the position of the eternal nerd. I didn’t need *sports* to live a fulfilled life or to feel good in my body.

Cut to a year and a half ago. I had some childhood experience with martial arts (I stopped in middle school because it wasn’t feminine enough or something like that) and decided after some of the quarantine restrictions lifted that I wanted to try again. the place I trained when I was younger went under during the height of covid and that sport was pretty rare so there was nowhere else to train. I chose a martial art I’d heard about at random - Brazilian Jiu Jitsu - and tried it.

I’d like to say that I was a prodigy, that I understood the sport instinctually, that I was praised by my coaches for my natural talent. That, unfortunately, would be a lie. I was downright terrible when I started. Everything was so difficult. Other people understood the principles and applications in a way that I couldn’t. It seemed like everyone was either way more advanced than me or twice my size. The first few months, I was learning techniques and training but I still didn’t get it. My coach told me that the instinct would come with time. I was worried that this would just be another piece of proof that I’m not athletic, that I don’t have the body or mental fortitude. I was scared of failing, but I loved the sport. Since then, I’ve massively improved. Some things that I struggled with before have fallen into place and I’ve found new things to struggle with. I’m competent for my level and I even competed in a tournament. Has it been easy? No. Do I always feel confident in my ability? Absolutely not. But BJJ has undeniably changed my life for the better. I feel more comfortable in my body, I’ve gotten stronger and more resilient, found a new community, and yes it totally has helped with my sleep schedule and emotional wellbeing.

While I love BJJ I am not promising that you will too (although it is amazing for self defense, a skill everyone benefits from but is extra useful to women and femme presenting folks in our current society). What I’m trying to say is that despite my years of disbelief it turns out that everyone was in fact correct about physical activity/sports being good for you. It also turns out that I was wrong about my belief that I was inherently un-athletic. I also want to say that you can do this on your terms. There are so many more ways to move your body than just hitting a ball with a stick or running in circles. Don’t let yourself stay trapped in a cage with fictional bars; in an 80’s movie trope where you can only be a jock or a nerd; in a mindset that limits you from being happy and healthy. Find something that makes you excited to do because I promise, it is out there.