#it’s just that this week it was particularly worse

[ravencantwrite]

Young Charles Xavier with anxious! Reader

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, allusions to panic attacks, mentions of skin picking and nail-biting, overall tried to make it as fluffy as possible.

Talks to you telepathically when you're too overwhelmed to talk

The sound of people, the lights, the crowd, everything was too overwhelming tonight. But it wasn't even just that, suddenly, every problem you haven't managed to solve by the end of the week has now decided to demand an answer. Were you ever going to finish writing your papers? Are you doing a good enough job at your report? Why are you out, enjoying life when there's so much work to do? Too many questions were swirling around in your head that you couldn't answer. Too much doubt. Too much of everything.

But it wasn't just your thoughts, you were starting to react physically to all the stress and anxiety that you were feeling. It was difficult understanding if you were actually breathing, any effort at thinking was diverted to constantly remind yourself to manually breathe through your nose.

Charles knows that when this happens you're most likely not going to be able to give any coherent answers apart from single worded, 'yes' or 'no' answers. He lets you hold on to his arm, and regardless of how hard you hold on to him he doesn't let it show on his face. Instead, he uses his other hand to place his palm on your face, your hand gripping on to his wrist trying to ground yourself.

You can hear his voice trying to calm you down inside your head. "Listen to my voice love, tell me what's going on". And while your thoughts aren't any more coherent than your words he pieces everything together and somehow understands what you're trying to tell him.

Gets your lip balm and helps you avoid skin-picking and nail-biting

You're used to picking on the skin of your lips, or biting your nails whenever you're too nervous or preoccupied by your thoughts. By the end of it, you'd end up with blood running down your lips, and uneven nails and no matter how much you tried to avoid it you would unconsciously give in to these habits.

The first time Charles notices blood on your lips he's concerned. At first, he attributes it to the weather or maybe even dehydration, but when you open up to him about your skin-picking problem he becomes more observant. He keeps a lip balm with him at all times and offers it to you every time he realizes you're about to pick at your skin and tries to help you replace your urge to pick at something by either distracting you with random questions or getting you scratch cards.

As for your habit of nail biting, he decides to use a fun way for you to avoid it. He paints your nails for you with your favourite shade, taking his time with the paint brush, painting each stroke carefully so as to not paint your skin. And when you ask him if you could paint his nails too, he looks at you with the biggest smile on his face and happily lets you paint his nails.

"Now we've got matching nail colors too"

Helps you practice conversations

Talking to strangers was often uncomfortable. You got it most days but when you're very particularly anxious, or self-conscious where it's getting you to second guess everything and that's when you tend to avoid talking to people at all because of the amount of stress simply having a conversation could give you. But that's gotten you to miss out on things quite often, including even compromising on things you would have liked to do.

Charles is very careful when he approaches you about trying to practice conversations with him. He doesn't wish to make you feel any worse about it than you already do and tries his best to find the best ways to help you.

"Now, if you're anxious to talk to somebody I want you to take a deep breath, take a moment, and prepare a script on what you want to say. Can you try that with me, love?"

He's very encouraging, always giving you pointers on how you could improve. He makes sure that you know how glad he is that you're trying, and how glad he is that you were comfortable enough with him to try this.

[froggiewrites]

Hello! I was wondering if i could request a Zoro or a Law x gn! or m!reader with angst? They are in a fight and reader kinda ignores them and hides from them and Zoro or Law realize how in love they are with the reader? Can end however you want!

Sorry I've been so slow on requests, writer's block hit me pretty hard this week! I chose Zoro with a gn!reader for this one, it just seemed to fit him pretty well (man is not good with his emotions). I hope you enjoy it!

A Bridge Too Far

Pairing: Zoro x Reader

SFW

Summary: Zoro is terrible at handling his frustrations, and you're tired of being his punching bag. He doesn't realize what he's lost until it's gone. Warnings: Angst, Zoro being a bad boyfriend, not a happy but possibly a hopeful ending? Word Count: 2.3k

Like most of your arguments with Zoro, he started it.

He always starts it, even when he doesn’t want to. When his frustrations start to bubble, he can’t help but lash out at whoever’s closest, and that’s normally you. You’re always there, waiting for him, and you never hold it against him once he calms down. Frankly, they’re less arguments and more one-sided furious rants, as you never rise to the provocation. So he doesn’t think much of it when he snaps at you again after a particularly tough battle, one that left a buzzing under his skin and a strain in his muscles that he couldn’t shake. You wouldn’t mind. You never did.

A few minutes after you follow him to the training room, sitting quietly in the corner while he readies his swords, he finally snaps. “Will you just leave me alone for once? How am I supposed to relax with you trailing after me like this?”

You don’t just sit there and take it like you always do. You don’t just get up and leave, ready to come back when he’s calmer. You stare at him a moment, not radiating fury or indignation, simply…disappointment. Weariness. “Again?”

“What?” He snaps.

“We’re doing this again? Really?” You seem completely composed and calm. It infuriates him more than snapping ever could.

“What do you mean, doing this again? You following me around like a lovesick puppy? Yeah, I guess we are.” He hits the target in front of him harder, sending splintering wood everywhere. The sound of it pierces his brain, rattling around, making him feel even worse.

You sigh, sounding horribly burdened and beaten down. “You know what? Sure. Whatever. I’ll leave you alone, Zoro, if that’s what you want. But this is the last time. I’m not putting up with this anymore.”

He grits his teeth. “Won’t put up with this? Shouldn’t that be my line?”

Your eye twitches, finally a show of emotion, a show that he’s affecting you. “I’m not your punching bag, Zoro. I’m not here for you to use to work off your adrenaline instead of learning to deal with your emotions like an adult. I’m supposed to be someone you care about.” You finally stand, gathering your things and turning to leave. You don’t look back at him as you call, “You’re going to regret this, but I won’t.”

The door slamming echoes through the room, sounding horribly…final.

He ignores it.

It takes a few hours for him to finally wind down, for the buzzing to quiet and leave nothing but a blissful silence. He doesn’t bother cleaning up the wood all over the floor, or taking a shower to rid himself off all of the sweat. He has only one thought: his bed, warm and soft and welcoming. If he’s lucky, you’ll be in it, waiting for him to hold you close and kiss your face, the closest thing he’s ever given to an apology. He eagerly makes his way to the Sunny’s sleeping quarters, opening the door slowly to the cacophony of snores coming from Luffy and Franky, accompanied by Sanji, Chopper, and Usopp’s quiet breathing. Brook is still on deck, on watch for the night, so it makes sense his bunk is empty, but Zoro notices your bed is also suspiciously clear. Even your pillow and blanket are gone, the sheets not even wrinkled, as though no one had ever slept there at all.

A small part of him tells him he should check on you, make sure you’re alright. But a much larger, louder part is crying out for rest, and he cannot help but give in, falling face first onto his mattress without even changing clothes. He’s asleep within seconds.

He’s alone when he wakes up. He doesn’t typically sleep very long, instead napping in short bursts throughout the day, but he can see the light pouring in under the door and he realizes he must have slept at least until noon. He’s shivering, still on top of his blanket. Usually when he falls asleep like this, you throw one of the extras in your locker over him, tucking him in like a child. You must not have come back in at all last night.

He ignores the uncomfortable feeling nipping at him, something he will not name. You’re fine. You’re an adult, and one night away from your bed doesn’t mean anything.

But then you aren’t at lunch.

Sanji is giving him dirty looks, and Nami is giving him the most foul side-eye he’s ever had the displeasure of receiving. The rest of the crew are trying to act normal, but Franky is suspiciously absent and Usopp is so nervous he keeps dropping everything he tries to pick up, ending in him spilling water all over himself and taking the excuse to “take a second to go change” and never come back.

He finally breaks after Sanji brings Nami another drink, takes an obvious glance at him, and they start to whisper to each other. He makes out the words idiot, asshole, and loser (the first two from Nami and the latter from Sanji), before he slams his fork down. “What? What is it?”

Nami turns to him, filled with the sort of righteous fury she only saved for those who dare hurt her friends. “God, Zoro, you don’t even know? What’s wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you? You’re all acting weird as hell!”

Sanji jumps in. “Because you’re acting like a jerk and have the gall to pretend everything is normal, asshole! What the hell did you say to them yesterday?”

What he said to…oh. That feeling comes back again, and he furiously clamps down on it, replacing it with a significantly more comfortable and familiar indignance. “That’s none of your business, cook.”

“Oh, yeah? Well, I think I deserve to know why I had to find them sleeping in the goddamn kitchen this morning, actually.”

In the kitchen? Of course. It’s the one place you knew he would never find you. He never went there other than mealtimes, avoiding the possibility of another stupid fight with Sanji when he wasn’t up for it. “How the hell should I know?”

“Are you still pretending you don’t know it’s your fault? They were bawling their eyes out after leaving the training room.” Nami’s even angrier than Sanji is, and Zoro genuinely thinks she might hit him. The smaller, more tender part of himself, the one he’s ignoring, wouldn’t even blame her.

But that part isn’t in charge today. “My relationship isn’t your goddamn business.”

“Relationship? You seriously think you still have one of those?”

His blood runs cold, but he forces the feeling away, standing up from the table and stalking off. “I don’t have to take this.”

Nami calls after him, “I hope they dump you!”

Sanji cries out soon after. “I hope you fall into the sea, asshole!”

Zoro could go look for you. Should, even. But he instead makes the trek to the crow’s nest, cherishing the quiet, the solitude, the safety of it.

But as he sits in what is usually his sanctuary, he begins to feel that itch beneath his skin. Quiet turns to unbearable silence, solitude turns to loneliness, safety turns to suffocation. He tries to close his eyes, to center himself, take control as he loves to do, but the moment he does he can see nothing but your face. He can almost feel your hands on his back, rubbing soothing circles while your voice gently shushes him. You were so good at that, calming him down right when he needed you. Giving him a patience he simply didn’t deserve.

A patience he had been taking for granted.

What would he do, if another man had made you cry? If someone else had raised their voice at you as he had, time and again?

Part of him tried to justify it. But I don’t mean it, some petulant part of himself cried. They know I don’t mean it.

But do you? And would it matter, anyway? He’s still shouting. You’re still taking it. How long can you perform the same song and dance before it stops being a performance?

He needs to apologize.

He just needs to find you first. You aren’t in the kitchen, though Sanji is, and he doesn’t even speak with him this time, just giving him a mean glare that would send a lesser man running. Zoro hates to admit he deserves it. You aren’t in your bed, and your things are still missing. Not in Chopper’s office. Not in the library. Not in the bathroom, though Robin is, and he has to take a moment to furiously apologize for not knocking while she laughs at him.

He can only think of a few more places to check when he remembers who was missing this morning.

Franky’s workshop is quieter than he’s ever heard it, only filled with the quiet clanking of a small hammer against an even smaller piece of metal. Franky is using his second set of hands to put together some clockwork trinket, a significantly more delicate project that he usually takes on. Zoro is confused only for a moment, then he sees you, eyes intensely watching, and he realizes what’s going on. Franky has taken you in today, chosen something simple and small to distract you, to allow you to participate in some way. He’s always been great at small comforts like this, allowing someone the peace of his presence without worrying about being a burden.

Zoro could learn a lot from him.

Franky clearly knows he’s there, shoulders tensing slightly, but he doesn’t speak, waiting for one of you to take the first step. You don’t seem to notice either, too enraptured by the small metal bird in Franky’s hands, a look of wonder on your face that makes Zoro’s heart skip despite himself.

“Hi.” He cringes the moment he speaks, the peace shattering instantly. Franky doesn’t turn to acknowledge him, but he can practically feel the wince that must be on his face from the lame opener. Your head shoots up like a frightened rabbit, every part of you tense and ready to run. You pull in on yourself, making yourself smaller, like if you’re lucky he might miss you entirely, move on to the next prey. He puts up his hands, the first and only act of surrender he has ever performed, before continuing. “Can we talk? In private?”

You look to Franky, and Zoro doesn’t know what the look you two exchange means, but it makes you get up and approach. You give him a wide berth, not even coming within a foot of him, but you nod at him briefly to indicate he should follow. However small of a gesture it is, you’ve finally acknowledged him. That’s something.

You lead him back down to the training room, still covered in splintered wood and reeking of sweat. He can’t help but notice you didn’t pick a neutral location. You lead him somewhere he feels safe.

You turn to him. “Talk.”

He hesitates a moment, trying not to trip over himself and somehow make this work, but he can see that he’s finally reached the end of your apparently not-quite-infinite patience. “I’m…sorry.” He says the words through gritted teeth, feeling as though they burn his mouth as they leave. He doesn’t like to apologize in words, but in action. In gentle hands, in small acts he could deny later. He doesn’t know why it embarrasses him, to admit he was wrong. He is pretty often. But something about it makes him feel so small, so weak. But he can be small and weak for you, right now. No matter how much it hurts.

Your eyes widen, and you take the smallest step backwards. Shocked by him admitting for once he’s at fault. “You’re…sorry?”

“Yes. I’m sorry.”

You narrow your eyes at him, searching for some kind of trick, some hidden knife ready to plunge into your back. “For what?”

“For…for what? You know for what.” He winces at how defensive he sounds, at how you start to pull in on yourself again. “Sorry. Um. For yelling at you. For taking my anger out on you when you did nothing wrong. For how I always do that. I…I don’t know why I snap at you. And it’s wrong.”

“Yes, it is.” You close your eyes for a moment, taking a deep, shuddering breath. “It isn’t fair of you to keep doing this. I tried letting it slide, because I know you just don’t know how to handle your feelings, that you aren’t coming from a place of malice. But that doesn’t make it okay. And you never stopped.” You turn your back to him, approaching a nearby window, staring out at the sea.

“I’m going to stop now. I swear it.”

“I won’t be with someone who speaks to me like that. I deserve better. You know I deserve better.” You’re trying to play tough, but he can hear the shake in your voice, and he realizes that just like yesterday you’ve only turned around so he can’t see the tears on your lashes.

He wraps his arms around you, burying his face in your hair. “You do. I swear I’ll treat you like you deserve. If I ever talk to you like that again, I’ll fall on my own sword.”

“...Swords.”

“Huh?”

“Swords. All three.”

He chuckles despite himself. “Alright. I’ll fall on all three at the same time.”

“Good. …You deserve it.”

“I know.” A silence hangs in the air. “I love you.”

You don’t answer.

You don’t hug him back, and you’re still sniffling, but you let him hold you. That has to be enough for now.

Tag List: @pandora-writes-one-piece (if you saw I forgot the taglist when I first posted this no you didn't)

[vodika-vibes]

Vod’ika - my medic has been not seeing eye to eye with her Commanding Officer, Commander Baccara. She thinks the troopers are all over worked, under fed and it’s kriffing cold and wet. How about a bon fire?!?! (And maybe some hot snuggles afterwards, you know just to get nice and warm 😉)

Doctor's Orders

Summary: When Commander Bacara and his men are stuck on a planet far, far away from the comforts of Coruscant, you decide to help them relax.

Pairing: Commander Bacara x F!Reader

Word Count: 955

Prompt: Bonfire

A/N: Thank you for your request! I hope you like it!

Click HERE to be added to my taglist

It’s cold. Cold and wet and miserable.

Oh, it’s not raining, but the dampness in the air cuts through your uniform, leaving you miserable and irritable.

Even worse, you can’t even stay on the ship because there’s something wrong with the exhaust system, which means the warm and dry ship that has been your home these last six months, is now very off-limits while the engineering crew tries to keep the ship from killing everyone.

Fun times.

This means that everyone is living and working out of tents. Luckily, there haven’t been any injuries that require a bacta tank or emergency surgery.

You tug your jacket a little tighter around you and allow your gaze to drift across the camp. The men are hungry and tired, and it’s made them all short-tempered.

Bacara has had to break up more than one argument that devolved into a physical altercation since becoming stranded here.

Speaking of Bacara—

You sweep your gaze across the camp until you find your Commander. Even from where you’re sitting, you can see the exhaustion dragging him down. His shoulders are tense, and you know that if he removed his helmet, his jaw would be clenched.

General Mundi, sitting not far away from Commander Bacara, looks just as tense and unhappy. His unflappable Jedi calm finally crumbles under the stress of the situation. 

You shift slightly and rest your chin on the palm of your hand. This situation is…familiar. When you were a girl, your family had ended up stranded at your uncle’s cabin for a couple of weeks. But you don’t remember the mood at the cabin even getting so bad.

You purse your lips thoughtfully.

Thinking about it, dad had been careful to make sure that everyone was having fun. He set up games and told stories…and every night there was a bonfire to cut the chill.

You sit up suddenly as the idea wiggles into your brain like a particularly stubborn earworm, and you stand.

A bonfire.

It might not fix everything, but it might make the evenings more tolerable, right?

Not to mention, the middle of the camp has already been cleared of any fire hazards, so all you’ll have to do is make the pit, and gather some stones and some dry wood.

You won’t even need help, you’ve been making bonfires since you were a teenager.

The idea solidified, you move to the edge of the camp to pick up a solid stick, and then move to the middle of the camp to draw where you’re going to build your bonfire. 

As your firepit grows, more and more people stop what they’re working on to watch you. Though none of the clones came over to help you, some of the other natborns do though. You don’t mind, you doubt they’ve ever been to a bonfire before.

And, just before the sun sets, one of your coworkers lights the bonfire and it roars to life. A controlled roar, but a roar all the same. Another civilian, a member of the kitchen staff, supplies some music, and you watch as your coworkers and friends start to relax.

Even the clones are starting to relax, once someone explains to them what’s going on.

Well. Most of them.

You know you saw Bacara go back into the Command tent rather than staying out to relax, and you’ve decided that you’re not going to stand for it. Or sit for it, for that matter.

So you slip away from the gathering, which is slowly starting to have the feel of a massive party and push your way into the Command tent. You square your stance and set your hands on your hips, and you glare at your Commander.

“You need a break.”

“I’m busy.”

“The work will still be there in the morning.” You walk over to him and reach up to tug his helmet off his head, “One night to relax, Cara, you need it. You all need it.”

He frowns at you and shakes his head.

“Cara, General Mundi almost lost his shit this morning. I didn’t even know he could lose his shit.”

“I’m fine.”

“Alright, but I’m not.”

He pauses, and his gaze immediately snaps to your face. He stares at you for a moment, likely taking in your messy hair and the dark circles under your eyes, and then he sighs, “You won’t take a break unless I’m next to you.” It’s not a question.

You just grin up at him and hold out your hand for him to take.

You lead him out of the tent and over to the blanket that someone set on the ground for you earlier. It’s a bit further away from the bonfire than you would prefer, but it's what Bacara prefers, so you’re fine with it.

You’re about to tell him to have a seat, but he beats you to it, sitting on the blanket and leaning back against the tree. So, gleefully, you sit between his legs and lean your head back against his shoulder.

“See, isn’t this relaxing, Cara?”

His arms slide securely around your shoulders, “Not in the slightest.”

“Liar.”

His arms tighten around you and you feel his lips brush against your temple for a moment, and you grin as you wrap your hands around his forearms, for Bacara, that was as good as an admission of love.

“Love you, Cara.” You say in a sing-song voice.

“Yeah, yeah.” One of his hands presses against your mouth, “I know.”

With Bacara wrapped around you, and a bonfire raging in front of you you finally feel warm again. 

So, you mentally call it a successful mission and immediately busy yourself with cuddling Bacara, since he deserves it.

@imabeautifulbutterfly

@n0vqni

@bad4amficideas

@justiceandwar98

@Mira-Loves-Star-Wars

@tiredbi-peach

@dukeoftheblackstar

@trixie2023

@kimiheartblade

@padawancat97

@falconfeather23435

@etod

@bb8-99

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@continous-mistakes

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@cc--2224

@adriennelenoir

[velandvithestarlightgullwings]

A conversation needs to be had regarding the democratic party

I've been particularly harsh when it comes to clout chasers regarding Palestine and the instant gratification the world seems to want without putting in the work.

But I want to talk to the Pro-palestinian supporters as well as the online leftist and liberal groups as a whole.

Now, up until Trump's first strike in july, I always thought they MAGA was deeply unified. It didn't matter how awful their leaders treated them, it didn't matter how much disdain their leaders showed them, they always fell in line to vote for Trump and lowkey, I respected it as they, for every single fault they have, loyalty was not lacking on their side.

Meanwhile, I was growing furious with my side of the fence because there was always fighting. I just wanted us all, for a single moment in time, when so much was at risk, to stop the infighting, unite against s common enemy, and defeat the dictator wanna-be once and for all.

Because I know that while MAGA have the cult-like ability to become a homogeneous being, we on the left are basically a bunch of ideologies mushed together under the blue umbrella.

Yesterday, I wrote a blog about how empathy was lacking and it's true. Palestine supporters are willing to throw America under the bus, where marginalized people like trans, minorities, disabled and elderly people will be the first to be hit if Trump wins, followed by white women.

But empathy is a two way street and a lot of people on the left are forgetting that Palestinian lives are being lost every day. The BIDEN administration is acting like an abused housewife to Netanyahu by refusing to even look him in the eye and pull support and while Harris believes in a ceasefire and a two-state solution, she still believes in the ally ship between Israel and America and believes they have a right to defend themselves.

And if we are real, America is the big sister to Israel. We basically taught them everything they needed to know in terms of being colonizers and unabashed murderers.

And keep in mind, im not talking about all Israeli people. I know plenty who are standing with Palestinians both in the states and outside of it.

I'm talking about the Zionist settlers that relish in Palestinian deaths, like Netanyahu, while also crying the victim because of what happened on October 7th (even though he was warned of Hamas attacking several times and still did nothing but that's a conversation for later)

As Americans and those on the left, we need to have a deep conversation with ourselves and ask two things.

Why are part of the left willing to overlook genocide?

And why the other part doesn't care about their own people and their plight?

Neither of these questions are easy to answer but I'm willing to give it a shot.

The first question is a simple one.

2016.

The year where everything went wrong. Hillary Clinton decided to run for president. The dems wanted this and they did everything they could to support it. They threw Bernie Sanders under the bus, this infuriating the youth, they propped Trump up to give her an easy win, and they were arrogant enough to ignore the blue wall. All of this, and the baggage she had from decades of slander, Russia's interference, and Comey's Benghazi investigation literally a week before the election took a flawless victory to a stunning defeat.

After that. Four years of fuckery that left the entire country shaken, where every day seemed like a new low. But what made it worse was the laws that were gutted, one of which made Covid so much worse, the 2 surpreme court judges being pushed by Turtle McConnell, leading to Roe V Wade being slain. among many other things.

It took a near decade but many people on the left are battered and fearful of another Trump win, especially now with Agenda 47/P2025 on the horizon.

Because of this fear, and the guilt that many feel by not holding their nose and voting for Hillary in the first place is causing an overwhelming overreaction by doing "blue no matter who." People claim that "Blue Maga" is real, and they are right. But it's not because of the same reasons as MAGA.

MAGA exists for people to be their worse selves. They can be ignorant, belligerent, racist. Sexist, homophobic, transphobic, xenophobic because Trump has allowed those bigots to come out of the shadows and be legitimized in the political world.

"Blue Maga" is created by fear, guilt and understanding of what is at risk by Trump winning again and further making things worse for all.

Because of the Israel-Palestine conflict getting mainstream, some people feel that they need to focus on their own situation before anyone else's, some people (sad to say) really don't care about something that isn't effecting them, some also have Zionist viewsx and a small amount can't forgive them for celebrating 9/11 the day it happened. Whatever the case, they want to stop Trump and MAGA by any means necessary, no matter who gets in their way.

Now, the second issue is also a combination of a lot of things. A lot of the protesters (correctly) feel like genocide is absolutely something that should be fought against, especially as its using our tax dollars to fund said genocide. It also doesn't help that thanks to the internet, a lot of them are scarred from the images and news reports they were bombarded with on various social media sites regarding Palestine.

Something like death and human sorrow is never easy to forget. I was a little girl living in Chicago. I've already saw a lot of death. And then after moving to Vegas, 9/11 happened and seeing/hearing the bodies splatter on the ground, the screams, the...everything was harrowing.

I don't blame anyone being emotionally disturbed by it all.

And as I've railed about many times, many social media people have hopped from supporting Ukraine to supporting Palestine for the social justice moral purity points to make themselves look good.

Also, you have the sleeper agents that are using Palestine as a way to help MAGA and Russia win the elections along with Pro-Hamas supporters (not Palestinian supporters. They get conflated often so I have to make the difference) using this to reveal their antisemitism.

But for a lot of young people, this is their first really big social movement so they are throwing everything into it because they are at the stage that they believe that they can make a movement that will sweep the world ala the civil rights movement, conveniently ignoring how much strategic planning, pragmatism, peaceful riots, and patience it took.

However, much like "Blue Maga" they've decided that Palestine is the end all be all and damn anyone or anything that gets in their way.

This leaves them blind of the suffering of their own communities. They don't rage over homelessness, the cost of living, the stagnant wages, the rampant discrimination, disenfranchisement and disinformation that is going on. And they sure don't see how women are being made second class citizens right in front of their eyes.

They either don't see it, believe that all these things are "first world problems," outright think they another Trump presidency wouldn't be so bad and that people were exaggerating, even though it took until the 20s to see how Trump's presidency really tore apart this country, they think its karma, or the worse case is that they don't care about what Trump will do because they think they are in a privileged position to not be hit with the worse that can happen.

So this is where we stand.

Now we have to ask what to do about it?

Truth is, what can be done?

The democratic party is in a state of flux. Many conservatives have come out to support Harris in an "the enemy of my enemy is my temporary friend" deal including resident devil Dick Cheney, Biden continues to bow to Israel due to the alliance they have, and third party candidates have been revealed to be MAGA in disguise.

One side believes that teaming with a demon to slay a devil is a necessary evil while the other side fears this is the proof that Democrats are going further right.

But if half of the democratic party refuses to vote due to Palestine, the people who are fearful of what they can lose will go to desperate measures to survive.

My verdict? We really need ranked voting.

[kiwisandpearls]

Ay this vomiting stuff sounds pretty serious how long this been going on?

The puking has been in on and off thing for the majority of my life, never really caused me any issue other than me just not being able to hold my food down on occasion (this isn’t regular dw, I don’t usually have a hard time keeping my food down). It’s just that it’s gotten worse over the second half of this week. I should be feeling ok from now on but I don’t 100% trust my body to cooperate with me so.

tldr: it’s been on and off most of my life, but doesn’t cause me much of an issue, and thankfully I am feeling much better than i did a few days ago

[antianakin]

I've decided the only valid answer to the question of "Could another Master have trained Anakin better/saved Anakin from Falling" is Jon Antilles.

This has absolutely nothing to do with any sort of personality differences between Jon Antilles and Obi-Wan or any belief that Jon Antilles would be a better teacher or has anything in particular in common with Anakin, and everything to do with the pure rage-fueled aneurysm that being Jon Antilles's Padawan would give to Palpatine as he tries to contact Anakin and is told for the 7th time now that Anakin and his Master were just declared dead again and no one's sure if it's stuck this time.

[avirael]

The Frozen Lake

It was the third day since he had stopped feeling like dying.

About a week ago he had woken up from his far too lifelike fever dream and a few days later the last spikes of the fever itself had been gone too just like the hallucinations it had brought in his sleep.

He still had been sick though and welcomed Rael telling him to stay in bed until he was perfectly healthy again all too eagerly.

While he still sneezed every now and then, it was at least tolerable now, still annoying but he didn’t feel incredibly uncomfortable anymore.

That day, just like the last and also the ones before that, he had awoken late. Against Rael’s order to stay in bed he had found the courage to get up and take a look out of the window. It was a sunny day, which in Coerthas still meant that it was bitterly cold though. But the sun was shining brightly and already high in the sky too which meant it had to be almost midday. He had slept way too long again, way to many hours for a surprisingly dreamless sleep. Or maybe it was exactly the lack of dreams that allowed him to finally rest, after all in the past there rarely had been good ones…

For a moment he considered to go downstairs and ask for a late breakfast if that wasn’t too insolent given the late hour but then a knock sounded from the door.

Quickly he hurried back to bed, just in case it was Rael, but the person who carefully peeked into the room a few seconds later wasn’t a viera.

“Ah, you are awake! That’s good!”, Haurchefant exclaimed happily and brought a small tray with hot soup and also something warm to drink. “It is so late already, you must be horribly hungry. Alphinaud checked in on you earlier but you were still fast asleep and he didn’t have the heart to wake you.”

A little uncertain on how to answer to that, A’viloh just nodded. Haurchefant grinned, put down a mug on the bedside table and handed A‘viloh a comfortingly warm bowl filled with some rather delicious smelling stew.

Instead of fetching the chair from the small desk by the window, Haurchefant sat down at the lower end of the bed balancing the tray with his own lunch on his knees. Rael once told him that ishgardian society had an absurd amount of strict and antiquated rules and so A’viloh couldn’t help but wonder, that although it seemed like a very appropriate distance to him, in Haurchefant’s hometown the fact alone that he dared to sit on someone else’s bed was probably scandalous.

“I hope you don’t mind me having lunch with you.”, the Elezen asked as he noticed A‘viloh staring.

Quickly the Miqo’te lowered his gaze to his bowl of soup. “Not at all.”, he muttered and tried a spoonful of the food just to change the topic. “Mhh, this is very good!”, he mumbled, still chewing, surprised by how good this really was compared to the bland food and bitter teas Rael had usually brought him these last few days. It must have been the Viera’s way of punishing him for running away.

Haurchefant laughed and then for a while they ate in silence.

“You look a lot healthier already.”, the Elezen stated after a while with an amiable smile on his face before taking a sip from his mug.

A‘viloh shrugged a little embarrassed, since it had been his own fault that he hadn’t been well in the first place. “Only because all of you took so good care of me.”

Haurchefant nodded. “You know, you had us all horribly worried right?”

“Sorry about that.”, he said and guitily looked into his mug.

Curiously Haurchefant eyed him for a moment. “Why did you do that anyway? Run out into the storm.”

A bit surprised A’viloh looked up. Had they all thought he had done this on purpose? “There wasn’t a storm when I left! What do I know about weather? I didn’t expect it to start snowing, let alone that much!”

That made the Elezen chuckle again but he still looked at him expecting an answer.

“Still… why did you leave?”

“I assumed Rael told you…”, A’viloh replied not sure what Haurchefant wanted to hear exactly. He nodded. “Rael did. But maybe I want to hear it from you…”

A’viloh sighed. His plan hadn’t been very smart and he felt a little uncomfortable having to explain his reasons to someone else, when in retrospect it didn’t make much sense even to his own ears.

“You know the… circumstances under which we fled Ul’dah… I couldn’t… um… the fact that we didn’t even know what happened to our friends… I wanted to find out, because it doesn’t seem fair to me that we escaped while all of them didn’t…”

“Mhh…”, Haurchefant nodded thoughtfully but let go off the topic for now. Instead he asked, „And how are you feeling today?”

Somehow that question confused A’viloh even more.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s a simple question, isn’t it?”, he said still smiling politely.

Of course it was a simple question. Just the answer felt unreasonable complicated to him. To make things even more difficult people who asked such a question usually wanted to hear “I‘m fine, and you?” or “Very good, thank you.” for an answer and rarely the truth. They certainly didn’t want to hear “A few days ago I was convinced I was going to die and honestly it wasn’t that bad, so now I‘m still not sure wether I am happy to still be alive or not”.

“Alright… I guess.”, he mumbled instead. He had never been a good liar and could only hope that this fact wasn’t too obvious for the Elezen.

“You know what?”, Haurchefant proclaimed after watching him thoughtfully for a second. “Today is a wonderful day. We should go for a walk.”

“A walk?!”, A’viloh exclaimed wide-eyed, as if he had just asked something unreasonable of him.

“Why not?”

A’viloh couldn’t think of a good reason why not, other than that he was supposed to stay in bed, so he shrugged.

“Where’s Rael?”, he asked instead.

Haurchefant smirked. “Do you need Rael’s permission to go outside?”

“Of course not.”, the Miqo’te protested. “But Rael will be mad if I run off again, especially against their orders to stay in bed.”

“Rael and Alphinaud went to the observatory earlier.”, Haurchefant explained. “We’ll be back before they are, I promise.”

What was A’viloh supposed to say against that and also against the expectant look on the Elezen’s face. He took another glimpse towards the window and decided that it looked nice enough to go outside.

“Fine.”

“Good!”, Haurchefant exclaimed happily and collected their empty bowls and mugs. “There should be warm clothes for you in the wardrobe. If you need anything else just ask someone. I’ll wait for you by the northern gate.”

After Haurchefant had left, A’viloh remained sitting in his bed for a moment longer contemplating on the Elezen’s question. Yes, he felt better again. But better in what comparison? Better than a few days ago when he had felt and also been half-dead? Though he didn’t feel sick anymore now, there still was a weigh on his heart. From his plan that had failed so spectacularly and even more so from the dreams he wouldn’t have minded to keep on dreaming forever.

Vehemently he shook his head and decided not to think about that now or he would just crawl back under the blanket of his comfortably warm bed again. Instead he got up and took a look into the wardrobe. Almost none of these were his own clothes of course since all he possessed were the ones he had worn on his body that day they fled Ul’dah. Very unsuitable for this climate. But neither did he see the borrowed clothes he had worn that night when he had tried to run away. Everything in here looked even softer and warmer like someone had wanted to make sure he was feeling comfortable. To his surprise the things didn’t look that much too big for him either, unlike his last set of clothes. Besides a few Hyur most people here at Camp Dragonhead were grown up Elezen but these clothes looked like they belonged to neither. Maybe it were clothes for Elezen children, he wondered and also thought that in that case someone must have brought them here just for him.

Grateful for so much effort he picked a few pieces and got dressed. Lazily he ran his fingers through his hair to get rid of the worst knots but the look into the small mirror at the washbasin, where his tired face stared back at him reproachfully, just made him sigh. Once he was ready he took the warm coat out of the wardrobe too and went out to look for Haurchefant. Just as he had said, the Elezen was standing by the gate that led to the north-east, towards the ruins of the Steel Vigil.

From afar Haurchefant already recognised the Miqo’te, his bright red hair a singularity among all the people living here. Pleasantly smiling as always he waved at him and A’viloh couldn’t help but smile a little too and wave back as he hurriedly walked towards him.

“There you are! I see the clothes fit you nicely.”

A’viloh nodded.

“They do. Thank you very much for these.”

Haurchefant dismissively waved with one hand. “It’s the least I could do…”

But he had done a lot more than that, A’viloh thought. “I think there’s more I need to thank you for. Rael told me it was you who saved my life.”

“Mhhh…”, Haurchefant tilted his head as if he wasn’t sure if this statement was entirely the truth. “Rael is too humble. They played a bit of a role in that too. After all it was Rael who noticed you were gone. And it was also Rael who didn’t leave your bedside and tried their best to heal you.”

A’viloh remembered waking up and finding the usually quite touch-averse viera cuddled up to him with a look on their face so horribly sad like he had never seen on them before. Rael had pretended it was nothing but it had been a very unconvincing performance. Asked about it Alphinaud had only offered a few sentences about how worried Rael had looked and how they had used all kinds of spells he himself had never seen or heard of before, all of it to try and save him. It had made him feel even more guilty for his stupidity.

So maybe Haurchefant was right. But still it had been him who had risked going out into the storm to find him.

“Anyway. I still want to thank you! Honestly.”, he insisted. But how honestly was it really?

Sure, he was glad to still be alive. After all his plan hadn’t been to run out into a blizzard and freeze to death, although some of them seemed to think that was the case. But once he found himself in this situation he had to admit that he had welcomed his fate rather willingly. A fact that shocked even himself a little looking back at it now.

“You’re welcome. After all you wouldn’t be any help to your friends frozen to death out there.”, Haurchefant joked with a wry smile on his lips.

“I guess not...”, A’viloh muttered, the topic of his friends making his mood visibly sink again.

Of course the Elezen noticed and his smile turned into a playful grin. “But I acted a little selfish too, you know? I think Camp Dragonhead is a lot friendlier with your company and I would like to have you and your pretty smile around a little longer.”

For a moment A’viloh’s eyes shot up to look at the others face before he quickly pretended that something somewhere a little bit to his left was a lot more interesting. Sometimes Haurchefant randomly said things, A’viloh hadn’t had the slightest idea how to react to. Not because he was that oblivious but simply because it puzzled him. Nonetheless the air suddenly didn’t feel that cold anymore on his face.

Haurchefant was always very kind to him. Well, he mostly was kind to everybody but sometimes he seemed to admire him especially. Him of all people, although there was nothing special about him. Haurchefant sometimes spoke of him like he was one of the greatest heroes of all time and it felt so ridiculous to him. He was just silly, cowardly A‘viloh! What had he ever achieved in his miserable life to justify such admiration? The people called him a Warrior of Light but wasn’t that some grand overstatement? Some days he thought all of this had been a horrible mistake. A great misunderstanding! Then he wondered how he had ever gotten entangled in this madness in the first place and also if he ever would get out of it again. But what else should he do with his life anyway...

While A’viloh’s brain still screeched in desperate search for a proper response, Haurchefant seemed to realise he had flustered him and glossed it over by gesturing to the gate.

“How about we walk a few yalms? There’s something you need to see!”

Still too dumbstruck to speak or to even wonder what the Elezen was talking about, A’viloh nodded and then proceeded to follow him out into the snowy landscape.

After a few minutes Haurchefant paused and took a deep breath. “Isn’t the air wonderful today?”

A’viloh followed his example, breathed deeply and let his gaze wander over the snow covered landscape with a few pines here and there and the mountains and ruins of the Steel Vigil in the distance. The air was cool and fresh, still cold enough that the warm sun couldn’t melt the snow. Instead the rays of sunshine made the scenery shine and sparkle as if everything was covered not in ice but in millions over millions of tiny diamonds.

“It is.”, he answered and smiled, surprised how beautiful this inhospitable landscape could be, before with a sudden spark of curiosity he finally asked. “Where are we going?”

“It’s not far anymore.”, Haurchefant said with a grin on his face and pointed into another direction. Shortly after and only a bit further ahead they reached a small lake.

As they got closer A‘viloh noticed that it not only was covered in a layer of snow and ice but also that quite a few off-duty soldiers, given the proximity to the camp he assumed they had to be, were standing right on top of the frozen lake. No, they were not quite standing. It looked more like they were dancing or flying maybe. More or less gracefully they moved over the lake‘s surface in fluid swift strides, some just moving in wide circles and other swirling around this way or that. A’viloh had never seen something like this and it looked strange and impossible but at the same time very beautiful to him.

The two of them had almost reached the lake by then, A’viloh a few steps ahead to get a better look at the wondrous people on the ice and he already wanted to ask how they did that, when his attention was drawn elsewhere by a curious squawking sound.

“Oh! Look at them!”, the Miqo’te exclaimed, his fascinated smile still turning a little brighter, as he gestured to a small flock of wild geese resting at the shore of the lake. With ruffled feathers they sat closely huddled together at the edge of the ice and suddenly A‘viloh couldn’t help but worry about them. They looked so unbothered by his presence, sleeping through the day and all the hubbub around them, looking all exhausted and frozen with their puffed up feathers. Like anything could happen to them and they wouldn’t even mind.

Strangely he wondered what he himself had looked like when Haurchefant had found him unconscious in the snow. He must have been a pitiful sight. Had the Elezen thought him beyond saving too, just like he himself had. What if he had found him a little later or not at all? Maybe that would have been better, a voice murmured to him just like it had so many times before and for a moment, tempted by the grief heavy on his heart once again, he almost believed it.

But no, he would be dead then and while he would have liked to imagine that this would mean he could be with his loved ones again, it was not exactly what either of the tribes he had lived with believed.

Vaguely he remembered his father working for hours, digging a grave at what used to be Wellwick Wood. An elderly woman too exhausted by their long journey, his grandmother if he remembered correctly, had died shortly after they had arrived there. With a sad smile on his face his father had explained to his children, who had stared down into the hole in the ground with confusion in their eyes, how by returning her body to the earth there could still grow new life from this death.

Or the drake tribe of the Sagolii Desert, who always burned their dead and left the ashes to be carried away by the desert wind, believing that it would make it easier for the deceased‘s aether to return to the Aetheric Sea and create something new elsewhere.

With a sudden sharp pain in his heart A’viloh realised that neither of the people he loved had gotten the burial they would have wanted for themselves. And neither had A‘viloh himself wanted to die in the coldness of Coerthas and be forever forgotten under a thick layer of snow and ice. He had thought about dying before but never had he been this close to it. For a second he wondered if this was something worth speaking to Rael about, but he wasn’t sure they wouldn’t misunderstand and get mad at him again.

“Why do you make such a sad face now?”, Haurchefant asked having noticed the smile slip from the Miqo’te’s face. But A’viloh just vehemently shook his head and focused on the geese again.

“They must be horribly cold.”, he wondered in a voice that suggested he already planned to take all of them to the safety of his comfortably warm room.

Haurchefant chuckled. “Don’t worry, they survived the storm out here after all. They keep each other warm, that’s why you‘ll rarely see one of them alone. A bit like you and your friends.”

“Maybe…”, A’viloh answered thinking about this comparison for a moment. “I just wish it wouldn’t always be me who needs to be taken care of. But as proven in Ul’dah and now once again I am simply too weak and useless to keep myself alive, not to mention anyone else.”

The Elezen’s face got a little stern as he folded his arms in front of his chest. “Don’t say that, I am sure it’s not true! This was just bad luck! You are neither weak nor useless!”

A’viloh shrugged. “But that’s how I feel right now...”

Slowly Haurchefant nodded before speaking again with a silent but determined voice. “Listen. I‘ll never forget how bravely you fought for Francel although you barely knew him. You could have gotten yourself in trouble with that and you helped him anyway.”

“It’s not like I did that on my own -”, A’viloh tried to protest but was immediately interrupted. “But you still helped! And I’m sure even without Rael you would have done so!”

Another shrug was all Haurchefant got in response, so the Elezen thought for a second before making an offer. “You want to make yourself useful, right? Get stronger? I could teach you how to fight like a real ishgardian knight, with sword and shield. Or we have some dragoons at Camp Dragonhead too! I’m sure there’s a lot you could learn from them.”

A‘viloh‘s face turned to disbelief. “I really don’t think I could fight with armor and weapons this heavy…”

“You can’t say so if you don’t try! And I have you know that dragoon armors are surprisingly light. How do you think they could still be this agile otherwise? Promise me to at least try training with them a little!”

He didn’t really want to agree to that. He knew he would make a fool of himself. But how could he say no with Haurchefant trying everything in his power to cheer him up. Weakly he shook his head and muttered: “Fine…”

“Perfect!”, Haurchefant exclaimed with a bright smile on his face. “I think an early reward for your efforts is appropriate then!”

Confused A’viloh watched him take a small bag off of his shoulders, which he hadn’t even noticed until now. For a moment the Elezen was busy undoing a knot before he opened the bag and presented to A‘viloh a set of two weirdly shaped blades attached to pieces of wood with leather straps. He had no idea what these constructs were meant to do and that was plainly visible on his face. “What’s that?”

“Ice skates of course!”, Haurchefant said as if that would explain it all but the Miqo’te‘s face remained clueless, so Haurchefant gestured to the lake behind them. “You attach them to your boots so you can walk on the ice like this!”

“Oh!”, A’viloh exclaimed as he understood what Haurchefant was planning. “I don’t think-… I mean I‘ve never-… You don’t really want me to step on that lake do you?” The idea somehow scared him.

“Why not?”, Haurchefant asked for the second time today with this smile that made the question sound like a challenge.

“It’s just a bit of ice!”, A‘vi objected. “What if it breaks?”

The Elezen shook his head and proceeded to fasten the metal blades beneath his boots. “Ah, don’t worry. The ice is thick enough, it will take at least a few more days to melt.”

“I don’t know…”, was all A’viloh replied as Haurchefant pressed another pair of skates into his hands. But the Elezen remained determined and took a few wobbly steps through the snow and onto the ice. “See! I can stand on it and it doesn’t break! You are a lot lighter than me, so why wouldn’t you be able to?”

Oh, you don’t know my bad luck!, A‘viloh thought but Haurchefant didn’t look like he would take that for an excuse. Instead he stretched out a hand towards the Miqo’te. “Come one! Believe me, this is going to be funny!”

For a second A‘viloh pondered his options. The idea of nothing but a little bit of ice between him and the water still terrified him but Haurchefant seemed so excited about this and the other people actually seemed to have fun too. Maybe he should at least pretend to try... Reluctantly he sat down on a rock and tried to put on the skates just like Haurchefant had done a moment ago.

“The clasp on the back too. Make sure none of them are loose… Yes, that looks fine!”, Haurchefant helpfully explained. As A’viloh got up, he almost flopped right back down into the snow. It was a weird feeling to balance his whole weight on only two thin pieces of metal. As he carefully took the first few steps towards the lake Haurchefant reached out for him once more. “Here! Take my hand! I don’t want you to fall…”

Hesitantly A‘vi stepped onto the ice and immediately felt like the ground was being pulled away beneath his feet. He struggled for balance, feeling himself falling backwards, so Haurchefants arm was a very welcome thing to hold on to.

With a chuckle the Elezen tried to loosen A‘vi‘s desperate grip on his arm and instead took each of his hand in one of his own before carefully making slow steps backwards pulling A‘viloh over the ice, which A’vi could swear was making suspicious crackling sounds below them. There was no way to tell the blades beneath his feet not to move, so all A’viloh could do was try not to fall and plead to Haurchefant with ears flat on his head and panic in his eyes, as he slowly was pulled further onto the lake. “No, no, no. Take me back, that’s a horrible idea!”

“Calm down. There’s nothing to be afraid of. I promise.”, Haurchefant said soothingly and continued to explain to him how to move on the ice skates. And in fact the Elezen’s calm voice slowly made A’viloh feel less anxious. His hands, frantically clasping at Haurchefant’s, relaxed along with his legs. It was still a weird feeling to be standing on the ice but now it felt a lot easier to remain balanced. He glanced at the people around them while remaining as still as possible, studied their movements for a moment and then tentatively tried to mimic the way they slowly pushed their feet above the slippery surface. To his surprise he really moved forward without much effort and also without feeling the sensation of falling again, closer to Haurchefant who had steadied him with his outstretched arms so far.

“See! It’s not that difficult.”, he said while making another step backwards so A’viloh had to follow with another step forward. The Miqo’te, strangely excited about the fact that he was actually moving on these weird ice-blades, laughed happily. “You are even going backwards!”

Haurchefants laughed. “One step after the other. Let’s teach you how to go forward first, hm? I‘ll let go off one of your hands but don’t worry, I still got you. One feet after the other just like you did before…”

In fact it almost felt easier now that he could use one of his arms to balance himself. Very slowly at first they floated above the icy surface of the lake but soon A‘viloh got braver. Once he almost lost his balance but for a comparably tall and strong person like Haurchefant it seemed like a very easy task to keep a small Miqo’te on his feet. Almost falling had felt like a shock for a second but only moments later they were laughing about it and in the end A’viloh was surprised and also a little proud how quickly he had learned and how much fun this was.

He wasn’t sure how much time they spent there on the frozen lake but at some point a bell sounded from the nearby Camp. Startled A’viloh looked up (and almost lost his balance again). “How late is it? I’m sure you have more important things to do than this! I’m sorry if I’m keeping you from doing your work.”

But Haurchefant just laughed and teased, “What could be more important than prove to you that not all of Coerthas is a deadly wasteland trying to kill you? But I think we really should return soon. I don’t want you to get cold again and after all we also don’t want Rael to find out about this little excursion, do we?”

For a second A’viloh wished the viera could see him now and wondered what their reaction would be like. The thought made him chuckle.

And as they floated, one last circle around the lake, A’viloh couldn’t help but wonder that maybe it was happy moments like this. The reason he was still here. Moments that made his life worth living.

---

inspired by the poem The Reversal by Leila Chatti

[starbuck]

the best is when you watch a film for the billionth time and can STILL notice something new

[nikothebookdragon]

google how do I turn off my mind

[mejomonster]

I hate panic attacks

[cowboyshit]

in case you guys don’t see me around much these next few weeks, I am most likely going to be putting myself on a sort of hiatus. I’m struggling to enjoy my time in the online wrestling community lately, and I think a large part of it just has to do with some general irritability I’m dealing with that’s making it harder to brush off things that I’m normally good at ignoring. well, that and my computer going so downhill that even making the smallest of gifsets is taking way too much time these days, which always bums me out a bit. I may only be away for a week or two, but I’m actually hoping to step away for a solid month. we’ll see. 💗

[widevibratobitch]

7 minutes of a phonecall with my mother is enough for me to start being a bitch lol

[sleepinglionhearts]

I can just see it now, I'll get asked by my manager what I mean by saying my period started "unexpectedly" when I come in tomorrow and she'll probably also say, again, that many people just deal with it when it hurts, you know, why not just push through it??

Ma'am they stOPPED REFILLING MY BIRTH CONTROL PRESCRIPTION THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE CONSISTENTLY TAKEN UNTIL SOME TIME NEXT SUMMER, IT WAS UNE X PEC TE D

[danielnelsen]

always fun to remind myself of the side effects of my thyroid meds

[softgrungeprophet]

may as well put this here—moving across the state, but moving is expensive, etc. and some family made a fundraiser for us.

[vimbry]

drains collapsed. under house