#just hit major setbacks

[motherofdogs1010]

A Jedi in Arrakis (Paul Atreides x Reader)

Summary: While on the run from Empire troops, Jedi padawan Y/N comes to find out that hyper-driving in a compromised craft can have some major setbacks when she discovers not only is on a new planet but a whole new galaxy as well...

Warnings: jedi!reader, eventual 18+, NSFW, angst, fluff, eventual smut/pinv!sex, oral sex, talks of questioning the Force and teachings, more to come as story progresses

A/N: Like Ahsoka, I left Reader to have white, which means they are neutral and I feel Anakin would have taught any other padawans to be neutral when it came to the Force. The type of lightsaber Reader has for any photo reference is the same type Darth Maul has!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics Banner by @vase-of-lilies

Part II

She had e/c eyes that looked at him softly as she laid beside him; the white silk she wore over her body showing the curves she possessed as she reached a hand out and caressed his cheek.

"Paul", she softly said, her skin tanned and soft.

Her hair fell around her and framed her face as she blinked.

"Paul..."

Her voice lulled him before he heard a humming, a buzz of electricity coming to light before a white light took over, shielding him from her...

🪐

In a galaxy far, far away...

Hands gripping the steering wheel of her craft, Y/N looked at the controls to see if hyperdrive was even possible and saw that it was not yet as she dodged another Imperial craft shooting at her.

"BB, you better hold onto your metal butt", she called out to her robotic companion.

BB-1 was a BB prototype similar to the R2-D2 design with the little robot being circular and having a teal color scheme; she heard the little robot let out a squeak as it rolled to secure itself to something.

Y/N hadn't thought of the Empire being on Dantooine but she thought wrong; she had been sent there by her Jedi Master, Anakin while Ahsoka (her fellow padawan/classmate) was sent to assist in the Clone Wars on the field. This intel was supposed to be useful to the Rebellion against the Clone War and Y/N knew if she was captured, that could only result in terrible things.

"BB", she said as she dodged a meteor in their path. "Connect to the database and upload what we got then delete everything."

BB let out a little beep followed by a whirling noise before getting to the task as she saw the Storm Troopers still on their path.

It was an agonizing five minutes of waiting for BB to upload the data, hearing an excited beep from BB as she had just winced as their craft was hit with another beam from the Storm Trooper craft just as she saw that hyperdrive was possible as the system alerted her of all the damage.

"Alright, BB!" she said, looking over her shoulder. "Now really hold on to your metal butt! It's going to be bumpy!"

BB let out a whirl of noises just as she hit the button for hyperdrive...

Her head was pounding as heard BB's concerned noises before she heard the beeping of the ship and opening her eyes with a gasp and looking around, it all rushing back to her of the system failure during hyperdrive, her trying to navigate as they were descending fast onto an unknown planet.

"Hold on, BB", she said, "let me... let me grab my-"

She grasped at her side where her lightsaber was clipped as she un-clipped herself from her seat, standing up as she winced from the headache; BB came towards her and beeped, Y/N patted its round little head as she went to the door of the ship, hitting the button to open it but saw wouldn't budge.

With a sigh, Y/N went to where her supplies pouch was and making sure she had plenty of water and food before activating her lightstaber, its white energy glowing as she stuck it into the metal of the door, doing her best of welding it open.

And with success she did as she managed to budge the door open to show a endless desert with hot air that hit her in the face; it reminded her of Tatooine with its similar landscape except she would say Tatooine had more rocky structures than this place.

"Where are we, BB?" she voiced as she stepped out.

The sun was hot against beige tunic and she frowned under the force of the heat, looking at BB before putting her hands on her hips.

"I guess let's do some exploring, huh?"

🪐

It was hard walking through all the sand, making sure she didn't stumble as she walked. And it was pretty boring considering there was just sand and oh, more damn sand; she wondered why it looked like the sand glittered at some points as her and BB continued their journey before her eyes widened at the sight of a large machine that reminded her of AT-AT Walkers except this one was larger in width and was... digging into the sand?

Either way, that had to mean that people were around as she began to jog towards there considering that it was so close.

BB rolled easily over the sand as they heard the sound of aircrafts and looking up, she saw two that resembled a bug, a dragonfly really. It hovered in the air as if it was looking over the machine and she squinted as she looked before beginning to feel the ground begin to shake violently to the point that she was knocked over.

Looking around, her first thought was a Nightwatcher worm and she looked at the machine as she begun to run with BB following closely; she held her lightstaber in her hand, her pouch bouncing as she ran with all her might to the machine.

Paul watched as the dust cloud grew as the sandworm quickly approached the Harvester, his father arguing that it was better to save the men on the Harvester than prioritize the Spice.

"Forget the Spice, we need those men", Leto argued and Paul's eyes squinted as he saw two figures running towards the Harvester.

"Look there", Paul pointed, his father leaned and looked.

"It's a girl and a... robot?" he said.

A.I. and anything of that nature had been banned in the Empire since the great war against A.I. so many centuries ago so it was curious as to who this was.

"How many men are on that?" his father asked.

"21", Shadout responded. "23 with the girl and the robot."

"We can only carry 6 on each ship", Paul mentioned.

"We'll make it work", his father confidently said.

🏜️

She was right that machine would draw in people as it was being evacuated as the sandworm was coming closer. BB was squealing as the sandworm was hot on their trail before she panted, "Go, BB! I'll hold it off!"

BB squealed and she said, "Go! I'll be there too!"

Turning around, she panted as she sucked in a breath and held her hand out, focusing her mind on the Force and its power as the creature closer. She felt vindicated as she saw the creature hit a invisible wall, panting and sweating as she held back the creature, the heat exhaustion getting to her as she tried her best to keep the creature back as black began to spot into her vision.

Suddenly, a hand gripped her shoulder and she looked to find two men: one around her age with handsome, pale features and dark curled hair, and an older man with greying hair.

"Come on, follow us", the older man said, she nodded.

With a final push of the Force, she ran behind the men onto one of the ships, stumbling but gleefully cheering once she saw BB there, who twirled in happiness and squealed.

"BB", she said, the robot rolling to her and she hugged it. "I told you I'd make it."

BB let out noises and she laughed.

"You understand that?" a man asked.

"Don't you?" she asked as she stood. "Where am I?"

"You're on Arrakis", a older man with thick dark hair and a facial beard said. "I'm Duke Leto of House Arrakis and this is my son, Paul. Do you mind telling me where you're from?"

"Arrakis? I've never heard of it", she mumbled, "I'm Y/N L/N from Naboo. What star system is this?"

"Canopus", Leto said and Y/N's eyes widened. "Where is this Naboo? I've never heard of such a planet in the Empire?"

Y/N now realized where she was as BB let out a concern noise. They weren't just in an entirely different solar system, they were in an entirely different galaxy...

[arienotari]

Drowning

Summary: When your worst fear becomes a reality and all you have on the other side is a brown eyed boy.

Pairing: Wally Clark x Reader

Warnings: Death, Drowning, Bullying

Edit: I am terrible at editing, and I tried my best so I'm sorry if you find any mistakes. This is my first full story I am releasing out into the world.

Word Count: 3330

I’ve never liked swimming.

People say it makes them feel free, but I felt anything but free. Every chance I got I avoided water at all costs. It's suffocating. Something about floating in a body of endless water and possibilities always made my skin crawl. One major problem that contributes to my fear is the fact that I can’t swim. I don’t blame anyone for this setback because I've never asked how to or showed interest. My inability to swim didn’t become a problem for me until my senior year of high school. I’ve gotten out of swimming class every year up until now and I had no choice but to take it. I tried to tell the swimming coach and counselors privately that I couldn’t take the class. All they said was I could stay in the shallow end. That I’ll be fine. I believed them. 

Word spread quickly throughout my class that I couldn’t swim once they started noticing I wouldn’t leave the 4ft mark. I didn’t really care, all I cared about was getting through the year. I was never really popular which didn’t matter much to me but being in this class never made it more obvious how much I hated it here. I felt eyes on me at all times which only made being in the water worse. 

It was March 12, 2015. Only a couple months left of school and then I’d be off to NYU living my dream of being a writer. First I had to get through 4th period swim class of course. I walked into the girls changing room preparing for the next 50 minutes of anxiety as I put my swimsuit on. I folded my dark blue jeans, my gray sweater, and a white tank top with lace on the trim that I wore under the sweater. Making my way to the pool I started putting my hair up in place of a hair cap I seem to have forgotten. Staring at the water I can see the bottom but it doesn’t stop the feeling of wanting to crawl up from my throat. Half the girls were already in the water preparing for a game of volleyball. Step by step down the ladder my hands begin to shake and my mouth becomes dry like I just ate pancakes. I make my way to the back to avoid any confrontation or any chance of being involved in the game. The one thing good about this class is it has a perfect view of the sky. I always get lost staring out at it wondering who’s also looking back. It makes me forget the situation I’m in and my environment. That's until a ball lands in front of me and about 15 girls are looking back at me waiting for my next move. I pick it up with my now calmer hands from before and spike it. Thankfully I made it over to the other side and the girls immediately turned back to the game. Not without some dirty looks but quite frankly I don’t really care. I watch as Mrs. Withers gets a call which seems to be serious as she tells us that she needs to step outside and when the bell rings to just go ahead. It’s only 10 minutes later when the shower bell rings and I feel the crushing weight lift off my shoulders. The other girls split based on which ladder they are closest to heading to the locker room and I help one of the girls get the volleyballs together. Making my way back to solid ground I rush to put the balls away not wanting to be one of the last to leave. I grab a towel on the rack near the other end of the pool as I make my way back seeing the last of everyone leaving. At least that’s what I thought until I heard someone behind me scream “Wait up” before running past me tripping me in the process. Losing my balance I watch as the one who screamed leaves the room leaving me alone. I hit the water with a loud splash waiting to hit the bottom to kick back up only to never feel my feet hit the concrete. I try to reach for the surface but everything I try seems to pull me down further. I panic, feeling my lungs on fire from filling with water. I tried to scream but no one could hear me and no one ever would. Everything was starting to go black and everything was becoming numb. All I could think about was how much I would miss out on. Finally, everything goes dark and I feel like I’m floating but I’m not, I’m being pulled up. I grab onto whoever’s pulling me up as if my life depended on it. Once I reach the surface my lungs fill with air as I begin to cough unbearably with my eyes screwed shut. I feel myself being hoisted up on the ground and out of the water. I’m pulled into the person who saved me as I am unable to move from exhaustion. When the person holds my face to center it I finally open my eyes as I am met with wide brown ones. 

“Are you okay”, he’s breathing heavily as I study him blocking out his yell to someone to bring his jacket. 

I feel a warm weight on my shoulders seeing its a blue and white letterman jacket out of the corner of my eye. 

“Thank you for saving me” I give him a weak smile but all I get in return is an expression filled with nothing but sorrow and guilt. 

Still seated on the floor I hear a horrified scream from beside me causing me to whip my head towards the chaos. Suddenly time stops and everything goes silent as I choked out a sob watching as a student and Mrs. Withers pull my body out of the water. The whole class comes to watch as they try to resuscitate me but nothing is happening. I feel the stranger push my head into his chest and I begin to cry harder than before. He repeats “I know’s” and “I’m sorry’s” as my world comes crashing down on me. 

Hours later we are still in the same position my hair and clothes dry now along with a tear-dried face. It’s dark outside with only the poolside fluorescent lights to illuminate our two figures. I begin to shiver more and more as the stranger who pulled me out of the water rubs my back and arms. 

“We need to get up, you're getting too cold” he whispers, pulling his body to get a better look at me. 

I lift myself up getting a better look at him as well as I memorize his long structured face, beauty marks, and brown eyes. After a minute I nod and try to stand up realizing that I’m still exhausted, the position not helping adding to the pain. He helps me steady myself and fully extend as he holds my hands making sure I’m okay. 

“You should take a shower and change into your regular clothes, I’ll probably do the same and I will explain everything once we're done. Okay?”, he says softly with an uneasy half-smile waiting for my response.

“Okay,” I whisper back at him not wanting to raise my voice feeling it’ll be too much to handle. 

His smile fills out more as he nods and begins to turn away to do the same tasks as me. I begin to turn away as well before I realize I never got the guy's name who pulled me out of the pool and stayed with me for hours. 

“What’s your name?,” I said, grabbing his arm to stop him from walking away. 

He looks down at my hand holding his arm which makes me see I’m still holding onto him causing me to let go. 

“Wally, Wally Clark”, he said with a wide smile that made me feel alive again for just a split second. 

After warming up from the shower I changed into my clothes from before that were neatly folded. As I begin to walk out of the locker room I get a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I look back at the girl staring at me feeling disconnected from who she was or what she could’ve been. I take a heavy breath before opening the door to leave and face the reality of my situation. Stepping into the hall, the school looked unnatural to me with the lights off. I look over and see a less wet and cold Wally approach me with the same smile as before. 

“How was the shower? Do you feel better?”, he asked one right after the other. 

“The shower was good and I’m doing the best I can with the fact that I am already dead,” I said, peering up at him only noticing now how tall he really is. 

“I know it's hard and I’m sorry it happened this way but I will try to explain everything the best I can.”, he said, extending his elbow out for me to take it as we began to walk further down the halls.

And Just like he said Wally kept his word and explained everything to me that he could. Like how we’ll never be able to leave school grounds unless we pass on. He also showed me all the other kids stuck here just like us and told me how some passed. As well as the weird support group that the kids attend in the gym. Even though he’d joke he never sugar-coated anything, which I couldn't help but appreciate. I won’t lie, the first couple of weeks were rough. I was plagued by the memory of what happened as well as the thoughts of the future I’ll never get. It definitely didn’t help that everyone at school was mentioning it and not in a sorrowful way. During those few weeks, Wally helped a lot with trying to be a distraction so I wouldn’t focus on others. I guess one of the perks of being dead is being able to duplicate belongings so I was able to get my phone and journal. I found the perfect spot on the football field to just listen to music and lie down. I’d close my eyes and imagine what life could’ve been but I knew I couldn’t do that forever, so I started to write more. It was easier to put my wishes and fantasies on pages without having to dwell on them. I usually kept my writing to myself so around 7:30 every day I’d go to my little bubble of solitude on the field and write. It was May now so the sun would start to set around 8 giving me enough light and a view. 

“What are you writing?'' I suddenly hear Wally's voice right next to my ear. 

“Jesus Christ Wally you scared me to death”, I said, jumping in reaction to the sudden deep voice, placing my hand on my heart and dropping my journal. 

“I mean it's a little too late for that someone must’ve beat me to it.”, he said smiling at me as he sat down next to me grabbing my journal to open it. 

I glare at him and snatch my journal back. 

“What too soon?”, he said with a stupid grin trying to get my journal back.

“Just a little,” I said, scrunching my nose. 

“No but seriously what are you writing? You come out here every day and write in that little journal.” He said leaning back on his arms a bit more to get my full face into view. 

I try to hide the blush that has crept up on my face when I realize that he’s been watching me come out here. After a moment I brush my hair out of my face and am met with those famous brown eyes. I take a deep breath before explaining to him my reasons. 

“I don’t want to stay stuck in the living because all it’ll do is bring harm. All I thought about for the past couple of months was what I’ll miss but I never stopped and processed my death. I’ve been hurting for all the things I couldn’t change and it caused me to push anything away, even you. So I thought why not write my wishes and wants down so they don’t stay on my mind. At least this way I can close the journal.” I said with a tiny smile looking up at him as he was staring back intently listening. 

“Before I died I wanted to be a writer and I had my whole life planned out, I was going to attend—“ 

“NYU, I know,” he said, finishing my sentence before I could. 

I watch as Wally sits up straighter and scooches closer to me before tilting his head. I can tell he’s trying to figure out what to say because he’s fidgeting with his necklace. I wait for him because there’s no point in rushing, I have all the time in the world. 

“I’ve been watching you for a long time,” he says with a breath held in waiting for my response. 

One of my eyebrows lifts as I tilt my head in response to the slightly weird statement. 

“Oh god, that came out creepier than I meant it to. What I meant to say was even when you were alive I knew who you were.” He said laying back fully down in the grass. 

I watched as he covered his eyes with his hands with a frustrated grunt like he was trying to revert into a hole. 

“What do you mean?”, I said moving towards his laid position to where I’m now bent over leaning towards him leaving my crisscross position to now on my knees. 

I grab his hands that are covering his eyes and pull them down to his chest as I hold them to keep him from covering his eyes again. How he’s looking at me I can tell he’s debating with himself. I wait and listen before I watch as he closes his eyes. 

“The first time I saw you was during your freshman year in the library. I was looking for something to watch for group movie night. I had Rhonda yelling at me in one ear and Charlie telling me something in the other. I was getting a little annoyed but then I looked between the bookshelves and there you were.” He takes a pause to look at me and I squeeze his hand in return to continue. 

“You were tucked into the corner where the bookshelves meet, where no one could see you. In your hands was The Devil’s Highway by Luis Alberto Urrea. I watched as you cried the further you got into the book. After that day I came back to the library every day to see you. I even started picking up some of the books you read, but I couldn't finish half of them though.” He said with a small smile on his face and in his voice.  

He sat up which caused him to become closer to me while he took my hands instead of me holding his. He was looking at the grass for a minute while rubbing his thumbs over my knuckles. When he looked up I could see that he was tearing up making my heart ache. 

“I knew you had anxiety when it came to swim class because you couldn’t swim so I’d go to try and help. Even though you couldn’t see or feel me, I was always there.” He said lifting his hand up to tuck a loose strand of my hair that fell. 

His hand stayed in place as he cupped my cheek and I went to ask why he was tearing up because of this before he spoke. 

“I watched you die. I was there and I couldn’t do anything until it was too late, that’s why I was there. I had to watch you struggle knowing I couldn’t grab you or even scream for help.” He said with his voice croaking with the struggle of what he’s had to go through. 

My eyebrows furrowed as I watched the walls I built up crumble down with one look at him. I never knew he’d been holding in something like this for so long. If I had known I would’ve never tried to shut him out. I was scared of what had happened and how my life had ended but I never thought about him. He was always there and whenever I needed help he was right by my side. I moved from my position pulling him into a soul-crushing hug. It took him a second to respond to the sudden gesture but after a couple seconds, I felt his arms wrap around me.

“Wally my death wasn’t your fault, I need you to know that.”, I softly spoke while hugging him harder, feeling him return it. 

We continued hugging for what felt like years but could never be enough for me to be satisfied. One of my arms is coming up from under his arm grappling his shoulder while the other is around his waist. His arms are wrapped around my waist and I can feel his hands rubbing small circles on my back. Looking up from being tucked away in his shoulder I notice the sun is beginning to set. I begin to pull away and when I make eye contact with him again he’s only a mere few inches away from my face. I raise my hand to brush his hair away from his face as it has flattened from the hug. My hand slips down as it trails from the side of his head to where it now rests on his neck. He’s staring at me the whole time while I do this and when I look up to meet his eyes my heart quickens. Well, I imagined it quickened. There’s something about those brown eyes I’ve grown fond of that makes me feel alive again. His eyes flash down to my lips and back up to my eyes like he’s silently pleading. I give into his wants that now become a need for me and all I can do is nod. His hand comes up to my face pulling me towards him as our lips meet. The kiss felt like everything in my little life led up to this moment. Nothing else seemed to matter to me but the boy in front of me right now who just confessed that he’d been watching me for years. Wally’s the one to pull away first. I slowly opened my eyes to look at him wanting to capture this moment forever. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear before cupping my cheek and giving me a quick peck. I can’t restrain my gleaming smile as he pulls away for the second time. 

“Well I’m glad we got that cleared up”, he laughed as he spoke. 

I glared at him while punching him in the arm causing him to fall back but not before dragging me down with him. I land on his chest relaxing in his touch like it’s something I've been craving but have been deprived of. We lay in comfortable silence as I felt Wally rub circles with his thumb on my hip. 

“I’m glad it was you who found me. I don't know what I would’ve done” I said, being the first one to disturb the still air. 

“I am too,” Wally said into my hair as he kissed the top of my head. 

We lay there all night even when the stadium lights came on we just talked about everything and anything. Maybe the afterlife won’t completely suck. 

[jewishconvertthings]

I can't remember if I've posted about this before, but tonight I was reminded by a class of a thing that I think may be helpful for some folks.

Because converting is *so* permanent and irreversible, and one should take it at least as seriously as entering a marriage (with the understanding that there is no divorce, only alienation), I think it's honestly a good idea to wait until you've had a major fight with your Judaism before you complete your conversion.

It's the same principle as wanting to wait until you've been sick with the flu together or had a major life setback or are lost at 2 a.m. on a road trip with your fiance before you actually get married. In that case, you want to know (1) what does this scenario bring out in them? (2) what does this scenario bring out in you? (3) how do those things interact with each other? and, most importantly: (4) how do you resolve it together?

With Judaism, it's easy to fall in love with Torah. It's easy to fall in love with an idealized version of your community. With the rituals and the liturgy and the music and the ruach.

It's harder to learn a point of halacha that hurts deeply and to be forced to reconcile what you know in your bones is right with the reality of the words of Torah and its interpretation by the rabbis. It's harder to meet your congregation in love and tochecha when they have fallen short of their vision and failed you in important ways. It's harder to force yourself to engage in mitzvot that you don't see the point in or that are boring or repetitious or do not spark joy.

And until you know how you will react when (not if) that happens, until you know how you will resolve it - or if you will even want to - you aren't ready to commit to something you can't just take off.

Sometimes it sucks to be a Jew. Sometimes Torah is more yoke than honey. Sometimes you're just not feeling it. And that's okay! That doesn't make you an imposter or a bad Jew; it makes you human. But you still need to address it, because that day will come.

I love being Jewish with all my heart, but there are parts of Torah that are like a knife in my soul. For me, the way I resolve it, is that those things in particular are the shards my neshama was sent to liberate the sparks from. We live in a broken, unredeemed world, and sometimes you should feel that, acutely. That is part of being a Jew, that you are sensitized to the world and its suffering. But it should still, in the end, lift you up. It should not break you, and you should not have to cut off major pieces of yourself to fit the role. Hitting that wall and feeling that pain before you immerse in the mikvah can really open your eyes to what kind of Jew you want to be - or if you actually want to carry this burden as well as taste its sweetness.

[anthurak]

Imagine how perfect it would be if it turns out that Salem is actually COUNTING ON the heroes killing Cinder out of revenge?

As in, Salem has a failsafe in place to ensure that if Cinder dies, she can still recover the Maiden powers from her. Perhaps Salem has a small grimm (similar to what Cinder used to extract the powers from Amber) imbedded deep inside Cinder, or some form of mental conditioning to ensure that if Cinder dies, the Maiden powers WILL go where Salem wants them to. Either to Salem herself or perhaps one of her other hybrids or perhaps even a specialized grimm Salem has modified to specifically serve as a storage-device for the Maiden powers until Salem can find a new holder for them*.

Meaning that when Cinder just can’t resist her raging hate-boner for not-actually-dead Ruby and sneaks/tears off to Vacuo against Salem’s orders to murderify her once and for all, Salem isn’t actually worried.

First Salem decides that Cinder has finally lost her ‘free will’ privileges and triggers the ‘assuming direct control’ protocols of Cinder’s grimm implants/prosthetics, causing Cinder to forcibly undergo a horrific and painful transformation into a full grimm hybrid just as she’s about to fight Team RWBY. Complete with Salem giving a terrified Cinder a classic ‘you have outlived your usefulness’ telepathic speech.

At this point, Salem can see only two possible outcomes to this charade: Either Grimm!Cinder is able to survive her rampage and make it back to her, now an entirely obedient slave. Or she’s killed by Team RWBY and co, in which case Salem can still get the Maiden powers back and find a new host, making this far more of an inconvenience than a true setback. And with any luck, perhaps Cinder’s rampage will manage to do some serious damage, maybe kill off a few of Salem’s more prominent enemies.

Even when Ruby is able to hit Grimm!Cinder with a full-power Silver Eye blast that manages to obliterate the vast majority of her grimm-attachments, even if she’s lost direct contact, Salem still isn’t worried.

After all, there’s no way the heroes will be able to resist killing the girl who has done so much to hurt them and take so many of their friends from them.

But then Ruby does the ONE thing Salem wasn’t counting on.

She shows Cinder MERCY.

Instead of simply being killed, Cinder is captured. And is therefore removed from Salem’s influence and given the opening to be shown genuine sympathy, positivity and kindness for what may be the first time in her life.

At the very least, from Ruby, Weiss, Blake and Yang, who have already seen first-hand the horrors of Salem’s grimm-experiments back in Atlas. And in Ruby’s and Yang’s case, are almost certainly grappling with the looming possibility that their mother was subjected to similar horrors.

And thus, through acts of mercy and kindness, Team RWBY is able to completely blindside Salem, removing one of her most vital agents from her control, and ultimately turning her AGAINST Salem.

Salem has always counted on her enemies showing cynicism, ‘pragmatism’ and cruelty.

But her enemies showing optimism, idealism and KINDNESS?

THOSE are the things Salem ISN’T expecting.

Not to mention it would play PERFECTLY into the themes of ‘Choice’ that have always surrounded Cinder: By chasing after Ruby to Vacuo, Cinder; the girl who has spent her entire life being denied a ‘choice’ by those in power above her, is finally MAKING a choice. And after spending the entire show dancing obediently on Salem’s strings, Cinder is defying Salem. And through this choice to defy, Cinder inadvertently puts herself in the position to be finally FREED of Salem’s control.

All because of Ruby.

Oh, and also the reactions of all of the people who have spent years now baying for Cinder’s blood would be fucking hilarious XD I mean just imagine the show pointing directly at everyone clamoring for Jaune or Ruby to ‘take revenge’ and how Cinder ‘totally deserves to die’ and effectively saying “Yeah, so the villain was actually counting on the heroes to do EXACTLY THAT.”

--

*And if anyone is going to say something like ‘grimm can’t use maiden powers’, let me reiterate that it is to STORE the powers. Let’s not forget that we have seen grimm being used as a conduit for Maiden powers when Cinder stole part of Amber power and later tried to steal power from Raven and Penny. So it stands to reason that grimm could also be used to store the power as well. Which all frankly makes perfect sense when we consider that both the grimm and the magic of the maidens ultimately come from the same source: The God of Darkness (remember when he called magic “My gift to them”?)

[killervelveteenrabbit]

This former “gifted kid” felt seen as hell during the “Make It, Don’t Break It” ep. I experienced so many things Lunella did:

Having everything come so easy, and then feeling blindsided when hit with a challenge or an assignment that you can’t manage, or even one that requires a little extra effort.

Difficulty accepting constructive criticism and being completely unable to deal with it when it’s mean-spirited or even comes out too harsh.

Internalizing someone’s intimation that you aren’t doing your best or could do better, playing it inside your head on repeat to the point it drowns out everything else.

Shutting out family, friends, hobbies—everything you enjoy—because whatever assignment you’re working on must be flawless. You have a reputation to uphold, after all.

Disdaining group projects because you think you work better alone. Besides, all those other lazy dum-dums in your class will only hold you back, or they’ll expect you to do all the work. Then you find out that the other kids got the job done and they had more fun doing it.

Experiencing a personal setback, like an unexpectedly bad grade on a test, or a public humiliation, like losing a major competition, and going fetal with negative self-talk and despair. If you’re not the smart kid—no, not just the smart kid, but the smartest kid—who are you and what good are you? Your family or the few friends you’ve allowed yourself to have might try talking you down from the ledge. But it might take you a while, if ever, for what they’re saying to register. And if you don’t have a supportive family, you don’t have any friends, or that monologue is complicated and amplified by underlying mental illness, you might crack up completely.

In the time and place where I grew up, taking care of your mental health wasn’t a thing. If you needed therapy, medication, or simply an extended break, there was something irrevocably wrong with you.

And guess what? The generation after me is doing just as bad or worse. Social media is exposing kids to an endlessly scrolling highlight reel of people smarter, richer, thinner, and more popular than them. So-called moral guardians are trying to dictate what books they can read, what subjects they can learn in school, what pronouns and bathrooms they’re allowed to use, and even how they’re allowed to wear their hair. Our very planet is one dry fart away from bursting into flames and the grownups aren’t taking any meaningful action to stop it—meanwhile, they’re made to feel like history’s greatest monsters for not using paper straws.

Now more than ever, we need stories and messaging like what this episode is putting down. That’s especially true for us “gifted kids”, to whom so much has been given but from whom so very much—maybe too much—is expected.

[falling-star-cygnus]

saw a comparison between Bennett and Aventurine and how they were both burdened by their luck and felt compelled to write them meeting -> note: im not really that far or that in to Star Rail. So if Aventurine's characterization is off, i do sincerely apologize

takes place after meeting Sparkle :D {and if it's obvious im bullshitting in some places, no it's not <3} pry Lichtenburg Bennett out of my bony dead hands

{An ornate chip sparkles in the dazzling lamplights as it's flipped high in the air}

{It lands in the palm of an irate blond, one that smiles as he strolls along the pathways of the deserted night. The chip repeats it's flight.}

"That crazed Fool..."

{Aventurine's nose scrunches despite his efforts to keep an elated face. It's not like anyone's around to see him, but- still. The first step to living a lie is to fool yourself first. The chip is weighing heavy in his palm, so he flicks it up again.}

{And again. And again. And again. Sparkle's words echo in his head.}

"- are you from Sigonia?" "I say you belong to the space under the manhole cover, not in a dream." "...the lapdogs of the IPC."

{Lapdog.}

{The next few moments feel wrapped in honey, sticky sugar thickening his mind to a snail's crawl. His fingers brush a blackened code on his neck, a sigh breezing out a clenched jaw}

{For the first time, the chip lands wrong in his hand. It's pinched between the junction of his pinkie and palm, rocketed to the side as Aventurine's fist clenches}

"Ack-!"

{...}

{Who was that?}

{Aventurine hadn't made that sound.}

{Slowly, like his head was moved by marionette strings, he turns his gaze to the side. The sight of a boy with ashy blond curls greets him.}

{He's clutching his nose in one hand, the chip Aventurine had accidentally shot at him [seriously- what are the odds?] nestled in the other.}

"Ow... where did that come from? I almost wish it was a rock."

{The older man shakes himself out of his daze, quickly but casually making his way over. This boy was young- or at least looked and sounded young- so... a gentler persona should be the ideal approach}

{Fuck if he knew how to approach kids though.}

"Hey there! So sorry about that, it slipped from my hand!"

{Bright emeralds snap to attention. It actually gives Aventurine pause, how bright they are. Pure. He would almost believe them unburdened if it wasn't for the snarled scar speared through his bicep and Lichtenburg figures peeking out around his neck}

"No, no- it's ok! I probably shouldn't have been walking so close anyway.. It's just- I'm kind of lost?"

{Aventurine blinks.}

{He wasn't lying of course, for once the chip quite literally slipped from his hand. Which- almost never happens, he'll admit. An unlucky incident that... was kind of thrilling. To be unlucky- not to hit a scar riddled kid in the face.}

{But still, was this new blondie really going to take him at face value? Not even a suspicious side eye? Talk about naivete...}

{And- lost? How do you get lost in a dream. That takes some serious skill...}

{Unless he was lying. Penacony was full of those after all.}

"Sir...?" "I was wondering why I hadn't seen someone like you around here before!"

{The sudden switch from quiet introspection to enthusiasm startles the kid back a step. Minor setback, that was fine. He could still salvage this encounter.}

{He offers his hand to innocent emeralds}

"Lost, huh? That's unfortunate, kid. What's your name?" "Oh- I'm Bennett!"

{Bennett fumbles for a second, going to shake Aventurine's hand with the one still holding the poker chip before switching to the one over his nose.}

{Poor kid pulls that one away too when he sees the speckles of blood on it. Shit, did he really hit him that hard? He knew the chip was heavy but he didn't think it was that heavy.}

{There was already a bandage pressed over his nose too...}

{Aventurine shakes his bloodied hand when he notices the boy growing increasingly distressed. They were both wearing gloves anyway, so it's not like it was a major issue.}

"Well, nice to meet you, Bennett. Even if it's under... unlucky circumstances."

{The older man was hardly ever unlucky. There was a reason he was called Aventurine, damnit. He never lost a game of chance. And he never made a losing bet. Something else was afoot here, he was sure of it.}

{The once white bandages over Bennett's nose slowly gets swallowed by red as the kid gives a weak little laugh}

"I'm pretty notorious for unlucky circumstances, actually. No matter where I go, my bad luck always seems to cause problems for other people..."

{...}

{Aeons, he looked so sad. Aventurine's chest actually hurts a little just looking at the boy. After all, he wasn't the one with a bloody nose. Fake as it was in this dream world.}

"Nonsense, friend. You've hardly caused me any problems. If anything, I owe you an apology for nailing you in the nose."

{Unintentionally.}

{The older man wraps an arm around the kid's shoulder's to steer him towards one of the many shops in Dreamville. They didn't actually have any vendors in them at this time, but they had to at least have one bandage somewhere. Right?}

{Although with Bennett's luck, maybe not.}

"Let's get you a new bandage, yeah?" "Oh-! I have one right here!"

{And lo and behold, he produces a near identical bandage from one of the pouches hanging from his belt. The only difference was the rounded corners.}

{Aventurine plucks the bandage from between Bennett's fingers to apply before the kid can insist on doing it himself}

"You must get hurt a lot to just have this on you, huh?" "Ah, heh. I guess? But that just comes with the territory of being an adventurer! And- with being unlucky too..."

{An adventurer, huh? That explained the scars, at least a little}

{He slowly peels the ruined bandage off Bennett's nose and flicks it off to the side. To his surprise, it doesn't cleanly make it into a trash can. No, the wadded up thing bounces off the side and, for a second, Aventurine resigns himself to having to walk over and pick it up}

{But it does go in- having bounced straight up instead of back at the blond duo- so he won't actually have to pause in treating his new friend's injury. That feeling of anticipation that fluttered in his throat though... was that how normal people felt? Unsure that something would go there way but hoping it would?}

"Woah... that was so cool!" "...It was, wasn't it?"

{For once, Aventurine felt genuine. Like he earned this bout of boasting. He felt... normal around this kid. ...Huh.}

{The older man smooths the new bandage over Bennett's nose, careful with the pressure he applies. The waxy paper slips between his fingers before he can throw the backside away}

{The boy catches it, innocent emeralds widening when it lands secure in atop the poker chip still in his palm}

"Maybe our lucks are rubbing off on each other, Benny." "Ah-! No, I'm sor-"

{Aventurine ruffles Bennett's hair before he can finish}

"Don't apologize, it's a good thing. I happen to have spectacular luck, I'll have you know. It really takes the fun out of winning." "It does?" "Completely."

{Bennett looks thoughtful at that, glancing down at chip in his glove. Innocent emeralds widen again as he shakes the backside of the bandage into his other glove to hold the disc out to Aventurine}

"I never gave you your chip back!"

{The older man reaches for it, but- he doesn't know if he'll ever see this kid again. Hm...}

{He plucks the waxy film out of his other hand, completely ignoring the chip}

"Please, I have hundreds of those. Keep it."

{Bennett sputters, but Aventurine can't see him as he walks to throw the film away}

"I can't take this-! It looks expensive!"

{It certainly can be exchanged for a lot of credits.}

"Think of it as... a memento of our friendship." "But- I didn't give you anything."

{The older man laughs, startling even himself.}

"Give me something next time we meet then, Bennett."

{It isn't until Aventurine is almost out of sight that he realizes he never gave the kid his name.}

{Well. There was always next time.}

[escapedaudios]

I'm thinking of bringing my Patreon back. I want to keep using professional sound effects but those cost money, and I've been hit with some financial setbacks. Nothing too major, but enough to hamper the money I have on hand for my little protects.

I never wanted to run this channel for profit, it was always about creating art and pushing the medium of Audio Roleplay (an art form that I adore) to the next level. I've always worried about financial incentives "corrupting" my work once I get a little too used to them, that and I didn't like the feeling of obligation when I had my Patreon.

What I'm saying is I need some ideas. The only real value I provided was early access before, but I didn't always get that done in time. So many audios were finished last minute that the only way to make early access "valuable" would be to artificially extend the release date for everyone else.

My work is so collaborative and story-based that I'm afraid putting plot behind a paywall would ruin the experience of listening to my audios (that are designed to blend together into one movie-like experience). I'd also hate to have other VAs on and give them minimal exposure by pay walling something where only like 1% of my usual audience will actually hear it.

I won't do patreon shout outs because they disrupt the seamless flow of the playlists. Maybe I can do text-based ones? But that's usually not enough to motivate people.

A lot of VAs with profitable patreons do NSFW or borderline-NSFW "spicy" boyfriend roleplays on their Patrons and I absofuckinglutely will not do that regardless of how much money it makes. I literally just am so out of ideas, I'm almost ready to just set it up as a tip jar and leave it at that.

What should I do? I'm so stumped.

[mr-styles]

Harry Styles' Sonic Evolution: How He Grew From Teen Pop Idol To Ever-Evolving Superstar

Harry's House' not only gives Harry Styles his most GRAMMY recognition yet — it serves as a testament to how much he's expanded his sound over his already storied career.

GABRIEL AIKINS | GRAMMYS/JAN 25, 2023 - 12:02 PM

Watching 16 year-old Harry Styles walk onto the stage for his "The X Factor" audition in 2010, it's remarkable how little some things have changed in the following 13 years. Though his rendition of Stevie Wonder's "Isn't She Lovely" was rather unpolished — even receiving a "no" from judge Louis Walsh — his magnetic charisma and natural talent were more than evident. And at just 16, Styles clearly knew he was on the right path.

"Singing is what I want to do," Styles said in an interview before his audition. "And if the people who can make that happen for me don't think that I should be doing that, then it's a major setback in my plans."

Of course, so much else has changed in the ensuing decade. Styles was tabbed alongside other contestants Liam Payne, Louis Tomlinson, Niall Horan and Zayn Malik to form the group One Direction. As the band stormed the charts and captured the love of fans globally, Styles grew into his abilities — and now, he's achieved a rarified level of fame. 

Even after being part of one of the most successful boy bands of all time, Styles has reached new heights of superstardom in his own right. In addition to selling millions of albums and selling out arenas around the world, he's starred in four feature films and became the first male cover star of Vogue magazine. The depth of Styles' charisma and drive he's shown from that first audition have made him an all-encompassing star like few before him.

While Styles was a solo star as soon as he emerged in 2017 — selling out his first-ever solo tour and debuting his self-titled first album atop the Billboard 200 — he has dominated the 2020s. His second album, 2019's Fine Line, spawned his first No. 1 hit in the U.S. in 2020 with "Watermelon Sugar," which also earned him his first GRAMMY in 2021 for Best Pop Solo Performance. But 2022 was the year he took his stardom to the next level — and it all began with an invitation to Harry's House. 

The lead single of Styles' third album, "As It Was," became undeniable, debuting atop the Billboard Hot 100 and spending 15 weeks there — the most in history for a British act. And when Harry's House arrived less than two months after "As It Was," it was clear that 2022 was the year of Harry. 

The album, featuring smooth electronic beats and funky bass riffs, went platinum in the UK and US, put four songs into the Billboard Top 10 at the same time, and earned Styles the most GRAMMY nominations of his career. His six nominations for the 2023 GRAMMYs include his first in the coveted Album Of The Year, Song Of The Year and Record Of The Year categories; Harry's House also earned a nod for Best Pop Vocal Album and "As It Was" is up for Best Pop Solo Performance and Best Music Video.

If you ask Tyler Johnson — who has co-written and co-produced the majority of Styles' three solo albums — the GRAMMY nominations may just be Styles' biggest validation yet. "It's really the music community recognizing him as Harry Styles — [his time in the band] is just another part of his resume, it no longer defines him. And that's really exciting."

In reality, Styles hardly ever let his past define him. Even Johnson sensed Styles' star power upon meeting the singer in 2015. "When I first met him, I knew a lot about him from the band, but it was obvious he was a star," he recalls. "Especially how he performed in the vocal booth, it was very brave. I was like, 'Wow, this person has no barriers.'"

With no barriers comes a willingness to always try something new — which is why the Harry Styles of Harry's House sounds much different than Harry Styles of One Direction. The change was heard immediately back in 2017 on his first solo single "Sign of the Times," released ahead of his self-titled debut LP later that year. It's a rock track to its core, starting with hearty piano chords and building to a crescendo of wailing electric guitar and crashing drums. This initial offering was a sign of what was to come, as Harry Styles is built on these rock sounds from beginning to end. 

Even if reviews weren't outright surprised by this sound, they noted the seemingly brand new, well, direction. "Few people probably predicted the 23-year-old ex-One Direction superstar to drop the kind of album that makes your uncle or your mom perk up," read Variety's review. Pitchfork mused, "If you only know one thing about Harry Styles, it's probably that the album bucks the established trends governing bids for young male solo pop stardom." Styles becoming a rock star was something new, but looking back at the totality of his work, it's not quite as surprising as it might be at first glance.

When assessing the music of One Direction, the singles will of course stand out. Tracks like "What Makes You Beautiful," "Live While We're Young," and "Best Song Ever" are big and boisterous, with infectiously fun hooks. And while each of the group's five albums had rock influences — queue the Clash-like electric guitar opening of "Live While We're Young" — they're all pop projects at their core. And the writers and producers behind them were pop masterminds, too, including Rami Yacoub, Steve Mac, Ed Sheeran, and Ryan Tedder.

By nature of an essentially constant touring schedule and working with so many other people — especially the four other members of the group — there was simply less opportunity to write. Across the 86 songs in the band's discography, Styles has writing credits on only 21 of them, whereas he serves as lead writer on every track on each of his three solo albums. 

"I think it was tough to really delve in and find out who you are as a writer when you're just kind of dipping your toe each time," Styles told Rolling Stonein 2017, recalling some of the struggles of being in a band. "We didn't get the six months to see what kind of s— you can work with."

Listening to the songs Styles did have a hand in writing for One Direction, though, the throughline of his career becomes clearer. Even the earliest tracks he co-wrote include key elements to his later songs.

The chorus of Up All Night's "Same Mistakes" takes his penchant for lyrical repetition, creating a folksy call-and-response feeling and pairing it with powerful guitar chords; he uses a similar pattern on Harry Styles' opening track "Meet Me in the Hallway." Made In The A.M. ballad "If I Could Fly" is strikingly vulnerable lyrically and melodically minimalistic; this combination is seen on Styles' solo ballads, like Fine Line's "Falling" or Harry's House's "Matilda."

Styles' solo success also stems from his versatility. Alongside folksy ballads, he has an ear for rock songs to fill a stadium (and after completely selling out his 2021 and 2022 Love On Tour stretches, stadiums may be where he's headed next). "Where Do Broken Hearts Go?" is one of One Direction's most anthemic tracks, tailor made for karaoke or shouting alongside a crowd. It's no surprise Styles is the sole One Direction member on the writing credits for it, and you can hear that same exuberance on his solo rock anthems, from Fine Line’s ultra cool smash "Watermelon Sugar" to the funk rock-infused "Late Night Talking" on Harry's House. 

In a 2017 New York Times interview, Styles explained his rock influence — and really, his musicality as a whole — stems from his own musical tastes. "I really wanted to make an album that I wanted to listen to," he said of Harry Styles. "That was the only way I knew I wouldn't look back on it and regret it. It was more, 'What do I want to sit and listen to?' rather than, 'How do I shake up compared to what's on radio right now?'"

Judging by the elevated sounds on Harry's House, Styles' musical interests have grown as he has evolved as an artist. While there are hints of his previous writing and growth on the album, Styles incorporated so many new elements, and that's what makes Harry's House so interesting and so refreshing. 

Funk pervades the record, with synths and stylized loops fleshing out tracks like "Music For A Sushi Restaurant" and "Keep Driving." There's a constant sense of playfulness throughout all 13 tracks — something that was apparent to Styles' collaborators long before the world got to hear it. 

"Harry just said that he's never been more proud of anything, and Tom [Hull, better known as producer Kid Harpoon] and I are just there for the ride," Johnson says. "We didn't feel too caught up in the kind of reality of who he is and having to put out an album very specific to the commerce side of it. It was a lot of having fun and just kind of burying our heads in the sand and enjoying doing it. That was very different from Fine Line."

Styles can seemingly feel his evolution himself, too. In a wide-ranging interview with Zane Lowe upon the album's release in May 2022, Styles revealed that he tried not to take direct sonic influences on this record like he had in the past. "I kinda felt like you can reference things by the emotions that they evoke," he said.

The same interview points out how much more comfortable Styles has become with being flexible and fluid, both in his own writing and his collaborators. And now that he's found his right-hand men in Johnson and Hull, he finds it easier to bring his ideas to life. This has allowed Styles to continue to expand his writing, and that resulted in an album that launched his superstardom to even greater heights — and showcased Harry Styles simply having fun.

Now 28 (almost 29!), Styles has been a beloved star for nearly half of his life. In that time, fans have watched his musical abilities mature, morph and expand; he has shown a willingness to always have an eye on what comes next — and that forward thinking paid off in a big way in 2022. However he evolves next, it seems Styles will never lose the drive and endearing charm the world first saw on the "X Factor" stage over a decade ago.

"He's a very similar person. He's a very consistent, loyal, kind person, very focused. That is all the same," Johnson insists. "He's just doing what people do when they do it more and more — he's focusing in on who he is more, he's gaining confidence, and he's becoming more and more himself — which is a very potent thing."

via Grammy.com

[luke-hughes43]

Luke Asks Stella to Go to Jersey with Him | Luke and stella

(this is the beginning of the whole plot of Stella transferring. takes place in march of 2023)

Stella’s POV

So, Big Ten’s are approaching and I know that means that Luke and I will have to talk soon about next year. I know he has plans to sign to the Devils but we haven’t talked about it. Meanwhile, we are a month into softball season and I’m not cleared for practice yet. I've had a tough recovery to say the least. 

I just hit setback after setback. There was some concern that he would have to go back in because I didn’t progress for 2 months. Luke has been nothing but supportive, same with my teammates and friends, but it’s still frustrating. 

Tonight, Luke and I both have an off night together for the first time since softball started. I’m going over for pizza and our show at the sophomore house.

I knock on the door and then go in, “Babe, I’m here!”

“Upstairs!” I hear Luke faintly yell.

I let the door close behind me before going upstairs to see Luke. I knock on his bedroom door and go in. I smile seeing him laying in his bed. I put my bag down and crawl onto to his bed and cuddle with him. He pulls me close to him and rubs my back softly, “How was practice?”

“I’m still not cleared. Trainer thinks at least another month. This is killing me Luke. I don’t know what I’m gonna do. At this point, I should red shirt. Keep the eligibility if they don’t think I’ll play for another month. That’s what the coaches are talking about anyways. I don’t know, I just hate this.”

He sighs and says softly, “I know stel. I know this is tough on you. I’ve tried to help the best I can but I don’t know what more I can really do.”

“There isn’t much anyone can do. My knee just needs to heal and it’s taking it’s fucking time to do that.” 

“I know baby, I know. But you’re putting the work so it will heal, I promise.” He says and kisses my forehead. I let out a sigh and mumble against his chest, “I know but I just wanna play again.”

“I know sweet girl. Do you wanna talk about something else?”

“Yes please. Anything.”

“Should we talk about jersey?”

“Yea. Probably.” I say softly. I really don’t wanna talk about him leaving but I know that we should and I’m traveling next weekend and then he has games and there just might not be time. He says quietly, “Jersey wants me to sign.”

“I figured. They wanted you last year.”

“And I said no for a reason. I don’t really have a reason to say no anymore. This was always my plan once I got drafted anyways. Two years in college then go to the show.”

“I know. We had this talk the night of your draft. I don’t like it but I’m not gonna hold you back either. I mean, we did long distance for the first year of our relationship so we’d be able to make it work.”

“Would you hate me if I asked you if you wanted to come with me?”

“No. I don’t know if I could though with school and softball. I just don’t know if it would work.”

“I looked into it a little bit, I know that Rutgers has a good business school, and you could keep your double major if you wanted too, plus the New Brunswick campus is Big Ten so if they have an open roster spot, you could play there and it’s only like 35 minutes without traffic to Newark so I’d be able to come down and see you all the time. You don’t have to come Stella, if you don’t want to uproot your whole life and move to Jersey with me then that’s ok and I’d never be mad at you for it.”

“Are you going to sign at the end of this year? Like have you fully decided on it?”

“Yea. That’s my plan whenever our season ends.”

“Then, can I think about it? I have to wait until the end of the year to enter the portal anyways.”

“Of course. I just wanted you to know that it is an option.”

“I know and I appreciate you bringing up the conversation instead of just assuming. I’m just not in a place that I can commit to the decision yet.”

“That’s ok. Now, no more serious conversations. Let’s order pizza and watch our show and just have our alone time before we have to get back to our responsibilities tomorrow.” He says and kisses my head. I giggle and nod. He pulls out his phone and orders pizza for us before turning on netflix. We’re currently bingeing how to get away with murder. I smile, and cuddle into him. 

We lay comfortably until our food arrives in which Luke gets up. I whine, “No. Don’t go. You’re so warm.”

“Stel, our food is here.”

“So make one of the boys get it.”

He chuckles and shakes his head, “I’ll be quick. Just sit tight pretty girl.” He walks away but I blush. He’s never called me pretty girl before but I like it. To be fair I like most of the nicknames he calls me. He comes back with our food and smiles. I sit up and give him the room to climb into bed and then he puts the pizza on our lap. 

I grab a slice and start eating because I’m so hungry. I ate at like 11 for lunch between classes but haven’t eaten yet and it’s like 6. I say in between, “Oh my god this is so good. I haven’t eaten since 11 so I’m starving.”

“Why haven’t you eaten since 11?”

“I had lunch at 11 but I had back to back classes and then practice and rehab. I came straight here from rehab and this is the first chance I’ve had to eat.”

“Stella, we talked about this. You gotta take care of yourself baby.”

“I know. I forgot restock my granola bars to eat on the way to practice. It’s just been a day. Can you not lecture me right now?”

“Ok, ok. I won’t. I just worry about you babe.”

“I know and I’m grateful for it.” I say finishing my pizza. I wipe my hands on the napkin and wait for Luke to finish. Once he finishes, I move closer to him and kiss him softly. We both smile and I just cuddle into him. We stay like that for the rest of night and just enjoy each others company.

[boliv-jenta]

Sex worker!Max Lord x f!reader

WC:1.9k

Warnings: A little angst. Idiots in something that comes before love. Allusions to smutty times.

Summary: Hot on the heels of his first proposal Max hits you with another.

Series Masterlist

The Proposals

The yellow piece of paper that Max wrote on was unceremoniously stuffed into your purse as you headed to the office. The underground car park was a wash with flashes of red and blue. There was a queue of four or five cars waiting to get in. None of them moved an inch. Huffing you abandoned your car completely, your heels clicked purposefully on the ground as you strode towards the source of the lights. Three black SUVs sectioned off the elevator. Men in FBI windbreakers milled around talking on radios.

Something too garbled for you to hear got their attention. "We're on the move." One guy calls. They scattered, getting into two of the cars until only one guy was left by the third. He opened the back door before climbing into the driver's seat. The elevator pinged and the doors opened, revealing two board men escorting a third. The third you realised was your very red faced boss. He rants indignantly as they walk him to the SUV to load him in.

By now some of your other co-workers have arrived.

"Do you think they'll shut us down?" A voice asks over your left shoulder you open your mouth to speak but get cut off by a voice from the right. "Hardly, it's just a little embezzlement."

It was not in fact 'just a little embezzlement." After the company shut down. A long list of charges came to light. By some miracle you'd made it out with a very substantial severance pay check thanks to your excellent skills in negotiating a contract. It would give you some breathing room. Quite a lot in fact but this was still a major setback in your career. Things with Max were put on pause while you sorted through your options. It wasn't until a week later that you saw that Max had sent back your last payment. Max didn't have a cell phone so you had to leave a message at his apartment. When he didn't return in after a couple of days you got worried.

The florists wasn't hard to find. During one of your dinners, Max had spoken about how grateful he was for your help in getting it. He told you about his job, the area he worked and how the lovely old lady would cook for him. A warm smile was on his plump lips. 

Standing at his door you second guess yourself. Your hand hovering over his buzzer until a woman pops her head out of the store. "So you're Max's secret lady!" Her English was heavily accented, Eastern European maybe? Wherever she was from she uses her language to hush the man inside the shop that had clearly had made a disapproving comments.

"Come, come." She waved you in. "Don't mind Viktor. He doesn't have a romantic bone in his body."

"I'm Zofia." She held out her hand. Shaking it, you give her your name. "The last few weeks Max has spoken about you every day. About how pretty and lovely you are. He thinks I haven't noticed. He still calls you a 'work friend'. You work at the bar that Max works at." If it was a question she doesn't wait for an answer. Her hands moved as fast as her mouth as she gathers a bunch of flowers and wraps them. "It's not good for him. Those unsociable hours. Sometimes I get up in the night and he's rolling home at 2am looking exhausted. At least he always has a smile on his face! Here!" She hands you the bouquet she had made. It was simple and elegant. Wildflowers and baby's breath in a hessian cloth. "I've told Max to take you these many times. A declaration of affection doesn't have to be fancy. Just good and honest. Right, Viktor?" Viktor seemed to be used to not being able to  answer as he just nods his head before she continued. "Well off you go. He's been off work all week. He'll be pleased to see you." You barely get a thank you out for the flowers before she ushers you out of the door and presses Max's buzzer. 

"Coming." You hear Max's voice before his footsteps descending the stairs. The door swings open to reveal him there. He looks different. Good. But different. His hair is wavy. There is no suit or shirt. He wears jeans and a sweatshirt. It takes you a moment to process it all. 

"Hi." He looks happy to see you but the moment is fleeting as a voice calls from inside. "Dad?!" 

The word hangs in the air before he turns to answer "Just one minute. There's someone at the door."

How did you not know he was a father? Was there just the one kid up there or more? "I..erm. I called you but didn't return it. I thought I'd check on you. You're fine so…" Every part of your body was screaming to leave.

"Yeah. I'm sorry. I was busy. It's my first visitation weekend in…too long."

"That's why you needed the money."

"Yeah." He shifts uncomfortably. "I see you met Zofia." He gestures to the flowers. 

"Yeah. Lovely woman. Very chatty."

The lines around his eyes deepen as he laughs. "She is. Alistair, my son. Is here until Sunday night. I could come over then? Give you time to read my proposal?"

"That would be good. Enjoy your time with your son." Your feet move of their own accord as you exchange goodbyes. Getting into your car you feel yourself physically deflate. That was a lot. All you wanted to know was that he was okay. Now you know he talks about you enough to need a cover story. And that he has a kid. It's all a bit much as you drive home and bury yourself in looking for ways to save your career. 

Sunday nights rolls around. Your mom and dad chat on different phone in the house. You filled them in on the situation with work. Assuring them that you are fine the whole time. Confirming to your mom several times that you are not going to jail. After your dad finishes telling you how his boat is coming along and hangs up, your mom stays on the line. "Are you sure you're okay, Sweetpea?"

No, I want to give up this stupid idea I had that I could run my own company and come home with my tail between my legs. I want to crawl into bed in my childhood room, just regress and live a simple life. Maybe with a sweet, brown eyed man.

"I'm fine, Mom. I'm upset, obviously, but I'll survive. I love you."

"I love you, too." You could hear the smile in her voice.

Max arrives about half an hour after you said goodbye to your mom. It was odd for him to be late.

"Sorry, I'm late. My car broke down on the way home from dropping Alastair off."

"You should have called. You didn't need to come over after that stress."

"What better way to relieve some stress than to see you?" You can't help but smile. 

All week, every free second you had you thought about how you would have loved to be in his arms. Not jostling for power or control. Just being with each other. Caring for each other. It had been so long since you had that. A man in your life that wasn't seen as competition or the enemy. 

"Sorry, I didn't get to read your proposal. I've been snowed under with work stuff."

"That's okay. I may have rambled a little. I can write you a shorter version. It all boils down to one sentence." Max snaps up a pen and post it note from your paper stewn table and scribbles something. "Here."

The note he handed you was simple.

I want to remove rule number two.

"Max…" All the words stuck in your throat. "I can't…"

"Can't remove it from the contract? Fine, I quit." His hands thread with yours to pull you in.

Slowly, you allow him to move you closer. "Max, you need this job. You have a son."

"I couldn't have gotten a home without your money but I can manage now. I can't take your money for something I'd willingly give you for free anymore. I shouldn't have taken it for this long."

"You'd be given up on the money for what? Me? I'm not sure I can give you a relationship. I have to focus on finding a new job…"

"About that I have a business idea…."

The small motel looks like any other from the outside. Maybe a little bit nicer than some you would pass on the highway. It's set back from the world hidden in the woods. It's advertised as a hidden hideaway for lovers but if anyone calls the number on the sign it's always fully booked. Each room has the softest cotton sheets, some have mirrored ceilings, others have restraints built into the wall, some have poles to dance around. One room, an old windowless supply room, has a full rack that people can be tied to, right behind the sex swing.

The advertising is half right. Except it's more like a hotel for people looking for lovers. There is a special number connected as well as the commercial one. A number that only a few knew by word of mouth but it soon spread. You call the number to leave your details. A contact number and what fantasy you want to live. 

You want a handsome cowboy to flirty his way into your heart and between your legs? He's stabled in room twelve. 

You need a daring pilot to take you higher? Room five. 

A little romance, TLC and gentle hands? You're in luck. Rooms eight, ten and fourteen are happy to help. 

Fourteen also provides a rougher hand. The duality of him is as much a mystery as his face that he covers with a simple black mask. 

Seven comes with additional warnings. Even with those, the women who stumble out of there are never really ready for him. There's just something about him that makes them feral. 

Six is the same. The theory is that it's his ability to be so dark and brooding but hold so much gentleness in those big brown, soulful eyes. It's simply magnetic.

When they both have company you worry for the wall separating them as the beds slam into it. 

Two was given a fitting room number as he is more than happy to take two at a time or more. He still manages to satisfy everyone. And still go looking for more company in the night. Speaking of…

Twenty five had to be given a room at the other end of the motel as people in nearby rooms were getting high off of his supply. Six makes sure that a little weed is the only drug that he has. 

Nine mans the phone line. His way with words eased the jitters of anyone calling up. He occasionally indulges those who ask for him specially. His voice entices them. The loss of his arm is still so recent that he's having trouble adjusting to being physically intimate without it, yet not one complaint has been made about his performance.

Room one is saved for the boss. He doesn't work as much as the others. He's far too busy with his family. Any requests for him have to be negotiated with his fiancé, she knows exactly what he is worth.

[raceweek]

Alex Albon: Williams driver says ‘you need to be a fighter to be a driver’

BBC SPORT: Andrew Benson

Alex Albon knows what it's like to think he's at the end of the road.

"You're right on that mental edge of panic and worry," he says. "I sat on that worry for so long that you start to not care. You can't panic forever. You can't worry about it forever.

"And I think: 'Well, l've only got to give it my all. I've only got to put everything on the table.'

His story is one of resilience - of numerous knocks through his life from which he has drawn on remarkable reserves of self-belief to bounce back each time.

On his respiratory failure and being dropped from red bull:

"In terms of setbacks, it's a small one really," he says. "I've had very good doctors around me, who were in Italy, to get me back into a good place. I feel very fortunate."

Two years ago, it looked as though Albon's career was coming to an end before it had really got going.

The decision was tough to take.

"I would be lying if I told you I didn't expect it," Albon says. "I felt like I didn't perform that season. I knew there was a strong chance of it happening.

"I had dreamed of being in F1 since I was four years old, almost completely obsessed with it. You inevitably hit this heartbreak where it is like, almost: 'OK, is this the end? And you've only spent two years in it.'

"It's a brutal business - and how quickly everything came about. It was a true fast-track from Toro Rosso into one of the very top teams in the sport and then out. And it was like: 'Wow, OK. It did hit me hard, as it would anyone."

Albon's voice falters as he talks, and his eyes well up a little.

"I remember the meeting," he says. "I remember everything as clear as day. And I have to say, first, I have a very strong network of people. My family. My friends. And people around me that you see today.

"Very quickly, I was back to work. I was in the simulator very early in January. 'OK, what's my job, how am I going to get back into F1?' And I kind of had a goal and a plan to do that.

"I would say I want F1 more than any other driver. Everyone will say that. But I genuinely believe it. And I knew I had to really do what it takes, in a way that was quite strange because I can't actually prove myself. It was almost like, what can you do without driving the car?"

On 2012:

This was far from the first setback of Albon's career. For many years, he had struggled to keep things on track.

Born to a British father - former racing driver Nigel Albon - and a Thai mother, he'd been a Red Bull-backed driver early in his career, but lost their support after an indifferent season in Formula Renault in 2012, caused by a major personal upheaval.

His mum Kankamol - with whom he is particularly close - was jailed for fraud, leaving a 15-year-old Albon to look after his younger brother and three sisters.

He still doesn't like to talk about it. But in the first series of Netflix's Drive to Survive series, he admitted it was "by far the hardest year l've had in my life", recalling how he "saw her get locked up and taken away".

Albon says now the difficult road "helped" when it came to rebuilding his career. "It's just because l've gone through it," he says.

"I've had it before, personal stuff, as well as I had it in Formula Renault, where I wasn't going to race the year after and we scrambled along and pretty much got a budget together within, like, two weeks of the first race.

On his personality and determination:

In person, Albon is modest and unassuming. It's hard to square such an apparently gentle character with the steel he must have required to get where he has.

"The general public get me wrong," he says. "They think I'm this happy-go-lucky kid constantly, and that I'm not hungry; maybe too nice.

"They will never see the fiery side because they don't have a headset. They don't listen to me when I'm driving. I am naturally quite happy. I do love what I do. It's the reason why I wanted to be in F1 so much. And I felt like I've learnt to enjoy and relax about it. But you definitely need a fiery side if you want to be in F1."

I tell him that what got him to this point seems more like steel than fire, and he says: "It's both. It's the resilience and at the same time it's determination.

"As a driver, you almost need to be a fighter. When you have a helmet on, you're fighting other drivers. And I am fired up. I really am not a nice person when I have my helmet on. Speak to the engineers here and they'll tell you that."

On fighting for his return to the grid:

Albon's answer was to throw himself into work behind the scenes with Red Bull. There were weeks, he says, when he would spend six days out of seven in their simulator.

He prepared a data sheet that proved, he said, his results at Red Bull were better than the general perception and "well in line with the people who I took over from or replaced me".

Albon said they showed the 2020 car "wasn't that easy".

At the Austrian Grand Prix in July 2021, he met Williams chief executive officer Jost Capito and gave him the data as he made a pitch for the drive. The sheet, he told Capito, "showed not just what I can bring but also on a pure performance side, I'm a good driver and you should take me".

Williams knew they would need a replacement for Russell, who was being promoted to Mercedes for 2022. In the background, Russell was making Albon's case to the team.

"He played a part for sure," Albon says of his close friend. "He got my name on the map.

"I've raced against George for a lot of my career and I'm in a very thankful position where he does respect or believe in my ability. He did mention my name a few times to Jost and the board; I joked about it but it is true, almost a bit too much, to the point where they said they wouldn't listen to him!"

Marko and Red Bull team principal Christian Horner also weighed in for Albon. "I know that they both also convinced Jost to take me," he says. "I'm sure - I know - that they also told Jost the job that I was doing.

On his support system and marketing:

Outside the car, Albon has revamped his support structure, taking on a manager, and forming a new relationship with a performance coach.

With them, he says he can "talk about offloading marketing stuff as much as I can".

Williams have turned Albon's distaste for marketing activities into a bit of a running joke on their social media channels. He smiles and agrees, but adds: "It's a genuine thing. There is a lot of noise in F1 and I think I most probably got caught up in it a bit too much in 2020. There was a lot of firing going on and I was trying to avoid all the bullets.

"Red Bull were very good to me and were trying to help me and support me, but having that circle around me has allowed me to really focus on the driving side - the thing that I really like.

"I'm much more of a quy who is comfortable with the engineers than in front of a TV camera and that kind of thing.

"With stuff like Daniel and Oscar, to be able to drive with so much talk going around, it's not an easy thing to do," he says. "I think as a rookie, even in 2020, I wish I could tell myself the stuff I know now. But you can't, so hindsight is a wonderful thing."

On 2022:

His performances have been so good it's almost as if Williams have lost Russell and replaced him with the same driver. Albon's advantage over team-mate Nicholas Latifi is almost identical to the one Russell had.

Albon says his focus right from the start at Williams was getting himself back to being the driver he always believed he could be.

"I had a vision of the areas I wanted to work on from back in 2020," he says. "I was like, 'OK, I want to fix my areas almost first and really understand. I've got to get comfortable with the team and all that kind of thing.'

"That's almost slightly separate to the performance of the car and where it was at. I've got to look at myself and really... I wouldn't even call it shake off the rust, but really focus on my development."

In the end, all this introspection and hard work has paid off.

"I can only say that I feel comfortable," Albon says. "I feel confident in the car. I feel confident with myself in the team and I know for a fact that I'm driving better than I did in 2020.

"If I look at it almost selfishly, independently, I feel like the year has gone as good as I could have hoped for."

He hopes, he says, he has proved a point.

[itsclydebitches]

I think the only way to make sense of the new episode is that the conflict about the paper pleasers is how all the characters would react about Penny's death if they knew what Jaune did. WBY comforting Jaune that they and Penny would've wanted this (they're less than human after all). Ruby lashing out at everyone else despite both things (the villager's deaths and Penny's) being her fault. Jaune blaming Ruby but he was the one who forced the villagers to suicide and assisted Penny's.

You know, I've been so distracted by all the other Big Events of this Volume - the bees are confirmed, a whole village happily dies, Ruby is having a meltdown - that I kinda forgot about the whole Penny issue? It only hit me again in the middle of Jaune's grief when he was talking (paraphrased) about how he was the only one who could 'do it.' As you say, there are ways of trying to make sense of this episode "if they knew what Jaune did".... but they presumably don't? I say "presumably" because RWBY drives me up the wall with how often very important information is conveyed to characters off screen, leaving us in the dark about how much was explained and in what way - especially in a show where people keeping secrets/manipulating information is a recurring theme. We've now had two major time skips where Penny's death presumably could have come up: when WBY were catching up after Ruby's faint, and while the girls were filling Jaune in after he rescues them from the first Jabberwalker attack. I don't think Ruby, Yang, and Blake know the full story about Penny yet because HOW could Ruby possibly have a go at Jaune without bringing that up... but I can't be sure.

Which puts the whole episode in an even weirder light for me. Again, is the moral of this that Jaune needs to learn to let people die when they ask that of him? Regardless of the writer's thematic perspective, the characters should have wildly different opinions on that and it's weird that they were allowed to remain ignorant when that all came to a head. It's weirder still that one of our characters isn't ignorant (Weiss) and yet that's had no bearing on her actions this episode.

Weiss, the one person who knows Jaune killed Penny to keep the Maiden powers safe, watching him desperately try to protect innocent, non-human people that are clearly a stand-in for her after decades of isolation from his world: 'He's gone off the deep end, huh?'

I can forgive Ruby, Yang, and Blake ignoring Jaune's cryptic comment/not following up with a, 'Wait, what did you do?' because at that point the fight was starting in earnest and everyone was too wrapped up in themselves. But that just implies that this will have to come out before the end of the Volume which is in... three episodes? The meat of this Volume really only started when Jaune arrived (because of course it did), which means we essentially only have half of an already short season to cover a LOT of stuff: learn the secrets of Alyx and Lewis, figure out the Jabberwalker, defeat it, defeat Neo, fix Jaune (presumably), reconcile the team, semi-conclude Ruby's grief arc, finish things with the Cat, with Little, discover something to help with Salem so this isn't complete filler, get to the tree, establish if they can use the tree, get home. Even if we take into account RWBY's tendency to speed-run through an insane amount of plot in a single scene (here's the introduction of the Staff, how it works, its limitations, and your brilliant loophole all in one go), that's too much to juggle, on top of this, "So... when are they going to learn the truth about Penny and grapple with that?" question. Remember how after Volume 8 the fandom (quite rightly) was going, "Wow! It's going to be a lot for Ruby to deal with Penny's death and the knowledge that Jaune caused it" but seven episodes in she still only has half the information and is only just reaching her breaking point in regards to that. Learning it was Jaune should be another huge setback in a story that hasn't even had her grapple with the first one yet. It honestly makes me wonder if RT is planning to stretch Ever After into a two Volume affair...

[blowflyfag]

WORLD WRESTLING FEDERATION MAGAZINE : DECEMBER 1999

1999 The Year of Chyna

By Kevin Kelly

Chyna has achieved what no woman was ever expected to in the World Wrestling Federation and it’s not necessarily just because of her athletic skills. Not underestimating a physique reminiscent of a leather-clad sculpture–perhaps it is because the Ninth Wonder of the World refused to listen when others said, “No.”

Chyna knew she could compete against the men, but the purists needed to be enlightened. Beginning with the Royal Rumble, 1999 has been a series of ground-breaking triumphs countered only by miniscule setbacks.

While the role of women in society continues to evolve, albeit rather slowly, the former bodyguard has seized the means of production and created her own revolution. How did this once stoic, solitary revolutionary become the tombstone by which all women in the next century will be measured and compared? It all began with a painful childhood. 

In an interview in the October 1998 issue of the World Wrestling Federation Magazine Chyna described her early family life as “dysfunctional.” After leaving home at the age of 15 the future athlete excelled in high school, regularly making the Dean’s list, and later graduated from the University of Tampa (Florida) with a double major in Spanish and Literature in just two and a half years. Prospective employers like the United Nations and the U.S. Secret Service would have to wait, however.

During her college years, Chyna had discovered a talent for weight training. Combined with a lifelong desire to perform the groundwork was set, almost as though destiny had a hand in molding the sculpture that is the Ninth Wonder of the World. 

Questioned many times about the prospect of competing against other women in the ring, Chyna has consistently stated that it would not be challenging enough. Trained by Killer Kowalski in a class of all-male wrestlers, even the World Wrestling Federation Hall of Famer knew that the skills of his prized pupil were far from common. Even before entering the Federation in 1997, Chyna was aware that to make an impact she would have to compete against the men. 

First as bodyguard for Triple H and then the unifying glue of DX, Chyna preyed upon the weaknesses of men. Her notorious low blow proved that any man of any size could be felled like a tranquilized elephant with one upward thrust of her powerful arm. If retribution was due for the sins she had committed, Chyna knew that generally men would not want to strike out at her because of the childhood rule: Don’t hit girls. To this day, many of her victims blindly look at gender and wind up temporarily paralyzed because they are not “allowed” to hit a woman. 

At the 1999 Royal Rumble, Chyna made history as the first woman ever to compete for the privilege. Having thwarted the other D-Generates, Vince McMahon stood triumphantly while Chyna made her way to the ring as the final DX member in the Rumble qualifier. No one expected her and that element of surprise has been a persistent weapon against Chyna’s opponents. 

In time, however, that element of surprise began to dissipate. Chyna needed to show that she was more than just a Mexican uppercut. She did that in her attempt to win King of the Ring. With Triple H at ringside providing guidance, Chyna proved to the world–and more important, to herself–that she could do it. 

As the old saying goes, “Good talent can make anyone look good in the ring.” The Ninth Wonder was in there with the best of the best, and despite not coming away with the victory in the perennial June tournament, Chyna put herself on the roster as a competitor. She was credible, believable. It appeared to be more like rediscovering the talent she had been born with than something she had learned. Chyna had evolved once again and the sculpture was almost complete. 

“SummerSlam was supposed to be my time!” Triple H bellowed at Chyna after the Ninth Wonder of the World became the number one contender. Chyna would not wilt under the intense heat of the spotlight. No one doubled her spot now because she had earned all our respect. 

In that same ‘98 interview, the Ninth Wonder said, “There is a lot of mystery to Chyna and she hasn’t been unleashed yet. We can do so much with my character…”

The stories that can be told about the Ninth Wonder of the World are as limitless as the imagination. Her “character,” as in integrity, is unparalleled. Chyna and Triple H are the quintessential professionals. That being said, will Chyna remain a part of Triple H’s career? There have been rumors that their partnership may be nearing an end. 

When Triple H became the Federation Champion the night following SummerSlam, it wasn’t without assistance. Chyna has been a steadfast, reliable accomplice for Triple H for nearly three years. Critics of Triple H argue that the network of assistants has hindered his credibility. Would Chyna remove herself from that role in Triple H’s life in response to the critics? 

Whatever future career decisions Chyna makes will not be in response to outside detractors. Throughout her life, Chyna has fought when most would have packed up and moved on. With minimal parental guidance as a young woman, Chyna completed high school and graduated from college with honors.

After stumbling onto weight training and a desire to compete in the fitness field, Chyna heard the naysayers and went on to make history on a televised event. Although the wrestling business wanted no part of her, the Ninth Wonder refused to be ignored and simply kicked the door in. Now, Chyna is approaching legendary status in the renaissance of sports-entertainment and the World Wrestling Federation–a history maker, a trendsetter, a one of a kind. 

This has been the year of Chyna. Her improvement and development will continue into the next century as well. One thing is certain–Chyna will constantly stay one step ahead and keep everybody guessing what is next for the Ninth Wonder of the World.

[anti-workshop]

SHAKY HANDS STICKER CLUB

Hey friends! I alluded to a big thing coming and THIS IS IT!

Patreon sucks ass but it's sort of the name of the game for fundraising things, and we need to raise funds, so here we are!

Do you like stickers? Do you like buttons? Do you like queer leftist shit as well as unique pieces of art you can adhere to the world or wear on your person? Please join our sticker club! You get stickers every month and maybe button/s if you want!

Check it out here -> STICKER CLUB

Also! More short designs will be coming soon! So stay tuned!

Read more below if you wanna know why we're doing this. Warning, it's long and sort of sad.

We started screen printing from one of our basements in 2020. It was, needless to say, the worst possible time to try and start a business. We barely survived and were able to move into the basement of the Milwaukee IWW's new union hall so we could all split the rent and make it affordable.

That was back in 2021. We were still struggling, but through word of mouth we got jobs and kept the lights on. We weren't really able to pay ourselves, but we all had second or third jobs so it was (mostly) fine.

We printed from that basement for about a year (and I hit my head on the ceiling and doorways hundreds of times) when a fellow wobbly and co-op enthusiast invited us to join his co-op as a DBA (doing business as). He sold us on the idea by offering to subsidize our workers' comp, general liability and book keeping expenses so we could try and grow sustainably. After some meetings we agreed to join as a DBA and we put our faith in this fellow worker whose intentions seemed pure and generous. We'll call him G.

Throughout the co-op's history some of our worker-owners' personal lives have been pretty chaotic. Working multiple jobs is stressful enough as a lot of you know, and so is navigating the continued stress of covid, having kids who are dealing with being bullied for being trans, all of us having major depression, adhd, etc. etc. We relied on each other, kept the lights on and just forged ahead, but there were some jobs that we delivered late or very late because of the chaos. G was understandably frustrated by these setbacks, as was I.

Because of the chaos, for about 5 months I was literally the only person working at the shop, performing literally every task from emails to quotes and mockups to invoices to pre-press, press, post-press and fulfillment. The Goncahrov shirts y'all purchased literally paid our rent, and I cannot thank you enough for that.

Then a fellow worker we'll call Z joined the co-op and saved my life. Z is amazing and I love him and owe him so much. He and I just kept at it and did what we could to care for our fellow workers who were struggling while away from the shop.

For about a year we've been trying to get an equipment loan to improve our processes because our little 4-color press and our flash and conveyor dryers suck ass. They're functional, extremely difficult to use, and they make our final product inconsistent and screen printing is a nightmare on them. It was all we could afford so we made the best of it and pursued a loan from a really cool cooperative lender that lends to other co-ops.

After a year of paperwork, making reports of our revenue and costs, analyzing our processes to improve them and show we were a viable business, they finally granted us the loan! We got a new press, better dryer, more screens and an incredible water-based digital printer/plotter combo that allows us to do stickers and decals and banners and buttons and other cool shit like that.

While we were applying for the loan, we were also pursuing a Collective Bargaining Agreement with the PPPWU (formerly the GCC) because we would be the only worker-owned co-op in our region (and maybe the US) to have the allied label, the most coveted union bug for printing. The local president was amazing to work with and we finally got awarded our union label and started paying dues.

It was around the time we began seeking the loan that G was doing and saying things we were a little confused by. He unilaterally fired two worker-owners in his co-op after months of mediation on my part to try and address interpersonal conflict. It's my fault for not seeing the writing on the wall then, but because he had done so much to help us, we justified his actions to look past our concerns.

Then, when those workers were gone he started to get abusive in text threads towards me and the other print folks, and we still looked past it because he had a lot going on in his life and that kind of stress can bring out the worst in anyone.

Well, a few weeks ago it came to our attention that we don't own our print co-op anymore, and we functionally stopped owning it once we signed on as a DBA. We thought we were all worker owners, but it turns out only I am, because I paid in at the time when I had the money. The abuse has escalated to the point that Z has quit, leaving only me the original creator the our co-op who we'll call M.

We're sort of trapped now. We're on the hook for rent at the shop until 2025, as well as the payments for our $30k loan, in a business that's been swept out from under us by someone we trusted who has become toxic and plainly cruel in his treatment of us.

Despite the stress and never really paying ourselves, I've enjoyed learning water-based screen printing and making garments people actually wear! It's been amazing! As the anti-workshop, we've been able to fund programs for our local IWW, the local tenants union and the local pro-palestine, anti-war committee. That has felt so good.

We've made our space an extremely queer, worker-focused spot for folks to learn the ins and outs of design and printing, which I am so proud of.

We're still here. We're still printing. We need to raise the funds to buy our equipment back by paying off this loan, so we can stop being a DBA of G's co-op and be our own entity again.

Failing that, we'll see what happens.

[onyxedskies]

whumptober 2023 - masterpost

total words: 62,932

day 1 - "how many fingers am I holding up?" - alfred & celine no warnings, 1k

day 2 - "they don't care about you" - marth no warnings, 1k

day 3 - aftermath of failure (alt prompt) - camilla & selena & beruka attempted suicide/death wish, 1.2k

day 4 - shock - sylvain & felix violence & major character death, 1.1k

day 5 - debris - inigo & olivia violence & major character death, 1k

day 6 - made to watch/"it should have been me" - severa & morgan & gerome & laurent violence & major character death, 1.3k

day 7 - "can you hear me?" - selena & odin & laslow & peri no warnings, 1.2k

day 8 - outnumbered/"it's all for nothing" - inigo & lucina violence & major character death, 1.1k

day 9 - mistaken identity - leo/niles no warnings, 1k

day 10 - stranded - inigo no warnings, 1.1k

day 11 - see day 18

day 12 - lab rat (alt prompt) - lysithea no warnings, 1k

day 13 - cold compress/infection/"i don't feel so good" - noire & severa no warnings, 1k

day 14 - flare/"just hold on" - inigo & henry violence & major character death, 1k

day 15 - "i'm fine" - laslow violence & major character death, 1.1k

day 16 - “don’t go where i can’t follow” - severa & cordelia/robin/chrom no warnings, 1k

day 17 - touch aversion/“leave me alone” - christophe & ashe no warnings, 1k

day 18 - captivity/“no one will find you”/blindfold/tortured for information/“hit them harder” - lucina/inigo, niles/leo/odin, niles & inigo graphic depictions of violence, 30.1k

day 19 - floral bouquet - leo & camilla major character death, 1.1k

day 20 - blanket/found family/“you will regret touching them” - kagetsu & zelkov & ivy no warnings, 1k

day 21 - restraints/“don’t move” - robin & validar child abuse, 1k

day 22 - glass shards/“watch out!” - cynthia & inigo & laurent major character death, 2k

day 23 - shadows - leo/odin/niles no warnings, 1.2k

day 24 - “i thought they were with you” - severa & lucina, implied chrom/robin/cordelia violence, 1k

day 25 - “they’re not breathing” - felix/ashe violence, major character death, 1k

day 26 - seeing double/working to exhaustion/“you look awful” - morgan & lucina no warnings, 1.1k

day 27 - scars - selena & odin & laslow no warnings, 1k

day 28 - bloody knife/sacrifice/“you’ll have to go through me” - lucina & m!morgan & f!morgan violence, 1k

day 29 - scented candle/troubled past - yuri/byleth no warnings, 1k

day 30 - borrowed clothing/bridal carry/“not much longer…” - diamant & alcryst no warnings, 1k

day 31 - emptiness/setbacks - severa & laurent & gerome no warnings, 1k