#like. okay. call centers: understandable. someone's making those calls

[janeway-lover]

as i get older the more i question if office jobs are actually real

[thebibliosphere]

Hello! I hope you don't mind me asking, but do you have any thoughts on Howard Schubiner's Unlearn Your Pain, Mind Body Syndrome, treating neuroplastic symptoms, etc.? I was just referred to a pain management group that centers around these concepts, and I'm having some Feelings about the whole thing.

Just wondering if you've had any experiences with this type of treatment, or thoughts about its effectiveness. Thanks!

Okay, so this is going to be long, and I'm going to need you to stick with me through the tangent. I promise it's relevant.

I haven't read Howard Schubiner's work directly, but his colleague Alan Gordon was a key speaker at the Migraine World Summit this year. I found his talk interesting enough to buy his book and do some more research on my own, and I found it worthwhile pursuing on my own.

I know enough from my mast cell disorder to know that the body develops 'bad habits' around pain.

In the case of anxiety, stress, or panic, mast cells become more reactive, and this can make pain worse. This is true for everyone*; it's just those of us with MCAS or some other type of mast cell disorder who have more alarming symptoms like idiopathic anaphylaxis.

So, unfortunately, if I, as someone with MCAS, experience an acute pain from an injury or illness, the inherent stress response of the pain and the out-of-balance response from my nervous system can make my mast cells degranulate. They're little fuckers like that.

Mast cells can also put your body on an inflammatory cycle that is counterproductive to healing. They can literally get trained to anticipate reactions and pre-emptively react, because again, they are little fuckers.

To give you an example of this for me: my major migraines, the ones that land me in the hospital, occur on the dot every ten days. There are no hormonal factors to this that can be found or other consistent triggers or stressors, but I was unknowingly being exposed to an MCAS trigger roughly every ten days for a while. When I realized, I removed the trigger, obviously. Problem solved, right? Unfortunatley no. By then, my mast cells had trained themselves into a new pattern, and the migraine now is both the response and the trigger. It's some bastard thing called Innate Immune Memory. But it's also, partly, my subconscious anticipating the event and priming my body for a reaction, which I am susceptible to because of my MCAS and dysautonomia, which is a type of nervous system disorder.

And this is where the neuroplasticity comes in.

I'm currently in the process of trying to unlearn this response and better regulate my nervous system, which unfortunately makes me sound like a TikTok girly with a link in bio to sell you cortisol healing tea, but I promise you the only thing I'm interesting in shilling is my smutty vampire books. (And this post will be how some people learn I write books)

Anyway, why am I bothering to explain mast cell dysfunction like this in relation to neuroplasticity?

Because, yeah, if a pain doctor handed me a leaflet about 'unlearning pain' and I didn't understand how my body is routinely sabotaging itself on a cellular level in response to acute and neuroplastic pain, I'd also be rolling my eyes and feeling like I've just been handed a bottle of snake oil in the market.

God knows I've been handed 'mindfullness' leaflets by enough shitty doctors who don't actually understand what it means when we say "stress affects the nervous system" and just assume the patient is inventing symptoms to be annoying.

Thankfully, that is not what this is. At least I am hoping the doctor sending you there doesn't think you are causing your own pain. What they are hopefully trying to do is introduce you to something that a lot of chronic pain patients are reporting helps them feel more in control of their lives after many years of feeling at the mercy of their pain.

I don't attend the sessions at my brain injury clinic (yet), but I do know they use neuroplasticity therapy to help amputees with the phantom pain they experience from missing limbs. My physical therapist spent an entire session singing its virtues to me while I was fighting for my life on a balance board. Which is also why I decided to look into it after I heard Gordon talking at the Migraine World Summit.

So, do I think Schubiner's methods are hokum?

No, I think there's a lot of merit to the things he talks about and explains, but I also know the only reason I think that is because of the insight I have into the brain-body bundle through the experiences of my mast cell disease that has taught me there is nothing the brain is incapable of fucking up.

Do I think targeting neuroplastic pain will work well for everyone?

No. I think you need to try it and see if it's a good fit for you.

Some people who attended the World Migraine Summit think it's snake oil/just another way for pain doctors to foist us off into the realm of mental health care. Conversely, other people won't shut up about how learning to break the cycle of fear and panic around their pain has been life-altering for them.

For me, it's been more subtle and is part of a broader spectrum of therapies and medical treatment I use to keep my nervous system in check. It certainly hasn't done me any harm. If anything, I found it quite validating to hear someone say, "Oh, the pain is in your head? Of course it is. Let's try to fix that," and then gave me actionable coping methods. They might not work profoundly in the long term. I'm still a sick bitch with multiple acute causes of my pain. But it's also not harming me the way mindfulness was (many chronic pain patients can find it traumatizing).

I will say, I am concerned that some doctors will use the treatment of neuroplastic pain to dismiss treating acute pain with physical causes.

Just like how mindfulness has been abused by an overworked, underfunded medical system not equipped to handle chronic patients, there's also the risk of neuroplastic therapy being tossed over the fence in a similar fashion as a last ditch Hail Mary to treat patients they don't have time for. But I don't think it's widespread enough yet for that to be the case.

I dunno. Give it a try. If it's not for you, it's not for you.

Personally, I hate anything that revolves around group therapy, but I did find the book "The Way Out" by Alan Gordon insightful in helping me figure some things out. Maybe see if your local library has it before you drop money on any sessions?

_ _ _

*There has also been more compelling evidence recently that suggests that chronic pain conditions like fibromyalgia are also affected by wonky mast cells. Also arthritis.

[confessedlyfannish]

Writing Prompt #11

It's an innocent ("please," Jason sneers, "there's nothing innocent about a plagiaristic propaganda machine encouraging minors to dance for sick ol' pervs while it spews misogynistic hate speech.'"

"okay, boomer,"

"the fuck did you just call me, replacement?") TikTok, one of those ones that kind of simmers in the background for a few weeks until someone with a decent enough following posts it on the Platform Formerly Known as Twitter and from there it seriously catches traction, blowing up until Tim knocks on Bruce's office door, phone in hand. Damian stands behind him, arms crossed and clearly simmering.

Bruce, fresh off a series of zoom conferences, raises an eyebrow.

"Okay, so you haven't seen it," Tim decides, striding forward.

Bruce's eyebrow jumps a smidge higher, on the edge of concern, as Tim thrusts his phone into his grasp.

"So," he begins, reaching over to refresh the mobile page "there's a video that's been making the rounds on Twitter and—well you should probably see it," He sighs over Damian's scoff as he clicks through the pop-up asking him to sign in or join TikTok, and presses "Watch Again", unmuting the video.

🎶 "Doo, badoo-badoo-badoo Badoo-badoo-badoo-badoo,"🎶 an upbeat background song hums as someone, presumably a student, films a school hallway with their phone. They walk past students talking near their lockers, some of whom flash peace signs and silly grins as the camera swings their way before continuing on.

But the main point Bruce gets stuck on is the all lowercase white text at the center of the screen that an automated woman's voice awkwardly narrates:

"when you go to school with bruce wayne's other long lost lovechild"

The student filming comes up behind a much taller student who faces away from him, in conversation with a black haired pale teenaged girl. She spots the cameraman and shoots him a confused, disgruntled look, saying something to the boy who then turns around.

Bruce quietly observes as the camera zooms in on a boy around Tim's page, possibly older. Tall and broad-shouldered, with a strong jaw, he raises an eyebrow at the one filming, looking beyond the camera, pitch black hair with blue undertones falling into his blue eyes. The camera momentarily zooms too far into those eyes then abruptly pulls back as he quirks a puzzled smile at the viewer, mouthing out an easily understandable "hi?".

The TikTok ends and seamlessly transitions to a person balancing their cat on an exercise ball with minimal success and this time Bruce presses the Watch Again button. The heart on the right side claims 750k likes.

Damian scoffs, louder, as it ends. "Clearly it is a hoax, but it has been popular among my classmates."

"The board hasn't made much noise about it—" Tim starts.

"And they won't," Bruce says, lifting his eyes from his phone. "Wayne Industries doesn't give statements on videos like these, no matter how viral they become. I've been getting lovechild claims since before I adopted Dick."

Which Tim knows, which is why his insistence on showing Bruce this one raises his hackles. He pins Tim down with a stare and despite Tim's perfected PR mask, he can see Tim is unsettled.

"B...he really, really looks like you." Tim admits. Damian scoffs for a third time and Tim shoots him a glare, "I get it, you don't see it, but you haven't seen the pictures of Bruce when he was younger."

"I don't need to!" Damian says angrily. "You're all being ridiculous!"

"All?" Bruce asks. Tim shifts awkwardly. "The family group chat has been talking," he says.

"I see," Bruce says. Because he does. Many claim Damian to be his doppelganger, but the boy actually favors Talia not just in skin tone but in the shape and color of his eyes, as well as the soft slope of her mouth and ears. Whether those features will sharpen once he goes through puberty is anyone's guess.

But this young man has Bruce's eyes. Martha's eyes.

That night they have a suspiciously full house for dinner, with even Jason dropping in, but no one says anything until Barbara wheels in for dessert, carrying a manila folder on her lap.

"What?" she says, when everyone stares. "Dick told me it was crème brûlée today!"

Bruce extends a hand wordlessly, and Barbara sheepishly hands the folder over.

"Bruce," she says, before he can open it, "I wouldn't have looked into this normally, but,"

"Just say it," Jason says, leaning back in his chair. "Take away the gray hairs, the receding hairline, and the wrinkles and the kid's a dead match."

"Take it back, Todd," Damian growls, "Father has a very full head of hair!"

"Not to mention a failed track record at keeping it in his pants, Exhibit A," Jason continues, pointing a fork at Damian, "oh wait," he says gleefully, "kid is definitely 18, so I guess that would make you Exhibit B!"

The table erupts, cutlery tinkling as Damian gets a knee up on the table to hurl himself at a cackling Todd, Dick jumping up to grab him as the others lean out of the way—

"Ahem!" Everyone stops cold as Alfred stands in the doorway, porcelain ramekins of crème brûlée stacked perfectly on a silver tray. Under his gaze, everyone sits back down, Damian and Jason both quietly uttering a "Sorry Alfie/Alfred," as they straighten up.

Bruce is oblivious to the chaos, Barbara biting her lip beside him as he stares blankly inside the folder at the printed copy of an adoption certificate.

Two days and several million likes later, another TikTok goes viral from the same user. Caught in the moment as whoever is filming runs up to the group, the same young man is chatting with a blonde in a red letterman jacket, a partially formed crowd around them. Even with one leg still in the cafeteria table, he towers over everyone.

"—sh. Look, we're all possibly Bruce Wayne's son!" the boy snarks. He has his hands out, palms up as if he's making a great point, and as he looks around he catches sight of the cameraman and his smirk drops.

"Ah Mac, c'mon dude not again—" and the TikTok ends.

[holylulusworld]

Ghosted

Summary: Dating. You’re not doing this anymore.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader, former Seth x fem!Reader (mentioned)

Warnings: mentions of past bad relationships, abandonment, being ghosted, unresolved breakup, angst, a hint of fluff, hopeful ending

Dating. Romance. Love. You’re not doing this anymore.

“Why not?” Your new colleague, a cocky and handsome guy, asks. He wanted you to have dinner with him, but like with every man before, you turned him down. “Did I say something wrong? I thought we were getting along very well, and there’s no company policy saying we can’t date.”

“I’m not doing this anymore,” you simply reply, with no sadness or pain in your voice. You became indifferent when it comes to dating, love, or even interacting with men. “I know people say this all the time, but it’s not you, it’s me, Bucky.” You give him a cracked smile and pat his upper arm. “You are an all-right guy, I guess, but dating is not for me. Not anymore…”

Bucky is stunned. He believed there was something great blooming between the two of you. You ate together during lunch break, shared jokes, and helped each other whenever one of you needed a hand.

“What was that?” He scratches his beard. “I thought she liked me too. Huh…did I lose my mojo?” Bucky dips his head to glance at Jake, another colleague from IT.

“It’s not you,” Jake says, knowing about your history with dating. “You didn’t hear this from me, but…”

…And then, Jake, ever the tattletale, tells Bucky how you became indifferent when it comes to love.

Three years ago, …

It was perfect. He was perfect.

Your last relationship left you heartbroken, and you believed there was never going to be a nice guy you’d fall in love with again. But there you were, spinning in your living room in a brand-new dress, waiting for him to pick you up.

After only six months, you and Seth were going steady.

It surprised you that Seth and you immediately got along so well. At first, he looked like one of those self-centered guys. Handsome but shallow.

Luckily, he was not a quitter. Seth talked you into giving him a chance to prove he’s a better man than your ex. He was charming and suggested going to the library to listen to a new author talking about their book.

Seth was sweet and shyly wrapped his arm around your shoulders when the author read a sad passage of their book.

You talked for hours after leaving the library. He liked the same music, reading, and long walks in the park. Not to forget, he wanted to start doing charity work, too, and he loved pets.

You haven’t talked about adopting a dog or cat with him yet, but you have had lots of time. At least you thought so at that point while spinning in your dress.

A funny moment turned into hours of waiting, desperate calls, messages, and so many questions. You didn’t get an answer. Not that night or any other night for two months.

One night, Seth invited you for dinner, and the next day, he just ghosted you. No call. No message. No apology.

You spent weeks questioning yourself, your appearance, hell, even the food you served Seth when you cooked for him.

Out of the blue, the man you believed loved you, and you would spend the rest of your life with, was gone, without as much as an explanation.

It was two months later that you saw him at a restaurant with his ex—the woman he told you was in the past. He used you to make her jealous, so she left her boyfriend.

You laughed about your stupidity. How could you have been so blind and let a man walk all over you again? That day at the restaurant, you swore to yourself you’d never fall in love again… never…

Now, …

“Wow,” Bucky replies after Jake finally stops talking. He can’t believe someone did this to you. You are always kind and the nicest person he ever met. “Why would he do this to her?”

“I don’t know.” Jake shrugs. “Some people are assholes and ghost others. I’m not saying it’s okay, but shit like this happens all the damn time.”

“I understand now that she doesn’t want to date anyone. Fuck,” he curses himself for asking you out. “I should apologize. Right?” Bucky looks at Jake, who’s busy scrolling through his phone. “Jake, can you stop with that for once?”

“Do whatever you want with the information I gave you. Just keep me out of this. You didn’t hear a word from me.”

Bucky awkwardly watches you from afar. Things have been strained between the two of you since you turned him down a week ago.

He averts his gaze when you look his way, sighing deeply. For days, he has tried to find the right words to apologize to you. Whatever he believed was going on between you and him was non-existent, and he feels like a fool.

He walks toward your office, his now cold coffee in his hand. Bucky looks at it, sighing again. The last thing he wanted was to hurt you or make you feel uncomfortable.

“Come in,” you say as someone hesitantly knocks at your door. You’re surprised to see Bucky poke his head in. “Bucky, hey. Please come in.”

He steps inside, looking around your office as if he is trying to buy himself some time. “Hi,” Bucky shyly says. “Uh—I wanted to say I’m sorry for asking you out without a warning.” Bucky looks down at his shoes, nervously shuffling from one foot to the other.

You blink at his words. “It’s fine,” you hastily reply. “I’m sorry too. You’re a nice guy, and I like you, but… I’m not dating…anyone.”

He nods and looks away. “I never wanted to make things awkward between us or make you feel uncomfortable. I like you too much to do such a shitty thing. Please forget I ever said a thing.”

“It’s not your fault that most of the men are shitty,” you murmur and give him a cracked smile. “If things were different, I’d gladly go out with you.”

Bucky smiles for a second before he turns around and leaves your office without another word.

He wishes things were different, but you’re too heartbroken, and there’s no way he’ll ever convince you that he’d rather die than hurt you.

“Handsome, you’re back,” the waitress at his favorite restaurant greets Bucky. She makes an insider joke only he understands and subtly asks about his best friend, Steve. “Where is your shadow today?”

“He’s out of town.” Her face falls, and Bucky is quick to say, “For business. Next time, he’ll be around too.”

“I reserved the best table for you,” she says and winks at Bucky. He follows her without a word. The table he reserved was for the two of you; now he’ll eat alone as so often.

“Thank you,” Bucky says and sits down. The waitress hands him the menu, asking if he wants the usual. He nods, not in the mood to decide on anything but how to forget about you and his feelings.

She walks away to give his orders to the kitchen, a sly smile on her face. While Bucky tries to busy himself with his phone and scrolls through the pictures of his cat Alpine, she’s greeting the next guest.

“Maybe one of our regulars would be generous enough to share his table with you, miss,” she says, suddenly standing in front of Bucky’s table. “Mr. Barnes, would you help this lady out? She wants to eat here, but there’s no free table.

He gets up to leave the table to whoever the waitress brought to his table. “She can—” His eyes widen as you stand in front of his table. “I can eat at home…uh…she can have the table.”

“We could share.” You are as shocked as Bucky, but somehow, you don’t want him to go. “If that’s alright with you.”

“Oh, sure…” He pulls the chair for you. “My pleasure, Y/N.”

You glance at his phone, giggling because his gallery is full of pictures of a white furball. A cute white cat with the bluest eyes you ever saw. Well, except for the pair he owns.

“You like cats?”

“I like this one,” he replies, with a smile. “That’s Alpine, the queen of my castle. She’s picky and a drama queen when it comes to food, my attention, or…anything in between.” He shrugs. “Wouldn’t want it any other way.”

You nod and smile back. A warm feeling spreads through your chest when Bucky starts talking about his cat and how he found her at a shelter. He tells you that he didn’t go there to adopt a pet, only to accompany his friend Steve, who wanted to pick up his dog.

“I ended up taking her home,” Bucky explains and shows you another picture. “Shit…sorry. I didn’t want to talk about my cat all the time. Uh—I’ll be silent now so you can eat and go home.”

“Hey, uh—” You touch his hand, stopping Bucky from closing the gallery. “Why don’t you tell me more about your cat?”

Part 2

[criminalyapping]

mistaken identity

the pitt masterlist main masterlist

pairing: trinity santos x reader

warnings: none!

read the next part here!

You're about to walk out of your shared apartment - running early enough to stop for a coffee for once - when you notice the brown paper bag sitting on the kitchen counter, labeled with a quick scrawl of a sharpie on the side.

Whitaker.

Seeing the lunch bag sitting on the counter, you immediately know that your plans for a slow morning are dashed. Quickly checking your maps, you scoop up the lunch and head towards the hospital briskly. You're not jogging, but if you want to make it there and to work on time, a fast walk is called for.

Flushed and embarrasingly out of breath, you arrive at the emergency department; the pitt, as those close to you so lovingly call it. Even at 7:45 in the morning, the waiting room is packed and you patiently wait in line to speak to the person doing intake. As patiently as you can as the minutes tick higher and higher, closer and closer to you being late to work. The blonde woman in line in front of you turns her face into her sleeve and hacks up a lung. You take half a step back and hold your breath. You make a mental note to pick up some laundry sanitizer; you can't believe you hadn't thought about the germs that must have been brought home from this place.

Finally, you get called up to speak to the woman behind the glass. You hold up the lunch bag so she can see.

"Hi! Dennis forgot this at home, I was wondering if there was a way to get it to him?" you ask.

Her once detached and professional expression flickered as she glanced between the bag and your face. The corners of her mouth lift slightly.

"Oh, you can go on back, honey, ask anyone back there where you can find him," she grins.

"Oh- I just, I have to run, I thought maybe someone could-" you stammer.

"Sorry, we're swamped, you just go on back, okay?" she reassures, pushing a button on her desk and gesturing towards the doors to your right.

"Okay" you agree softly, mostly to yourself, and turn and walk through the set of double doors.

Immediately you are overwhelmed. The florescent lights beat down, the smell of antiseptiic fills your nose, and you hear what sounds like 30 overlapping voices all speaking with urgency.

You take a few steps forward, desperately searching for anyone who isn't looking busy.

"Excuse me," you start, catching the attention of a man walking by in scrubs and looking at the tablet in his hands. He pauses in his walk and looks at you.

"Yeah, what can I do for you?" he asks with a smile.

"Um, I have Dennis' lunch, he forgot it at home. I just," you stumble, "is there a fridge I can put it in for him?" you ask.

"Dennis? You mean Whitaker?" he asks, doing a double take.

"Yeah, yeah, sorry, I just-" you begin, only to be cut off.

The man, whose badge says Mateo Diaz, looks over his shoulder towards the center of the room.

"Hey, Dana!" he calls. A woman with short blonde hair looks up over the rim of her glasses.

"What?" she responds.

"We've got someone looking for Whitaker! Says that he left his lunch at home." he explains, his voice taking on a conspirational tone you don't quite understand.

"For Whitaker?" she calls, taking off her glasses and walking across the room towards you.

"This is for Whitaker?" she asks as she comes to a stop in front of you.

"Yes, yeah, he left it, and I thought I would bring it." you explain again.

Dana smiles with a glint in her eyes.

After a moment of silence, you begin again.

"I don't- I mean, I can't stay, I thought I could just drop it off?" you propose.

"Yeah, yeah, we'll get you out of here quickly, hun. Let's go get Whitaker so he can say thank you." she decides, grabbing you by the shoulder and steering you deeper into the pitt.

You pass various people in scrubs, and you wrack your brain for all of the names and characteristics of people who you have heard about, trying (and failing) to pair flashes of faces to names.

It seems like, for every person who glances at you, Dana explains, "For Whitaker," before urging you further in.

"Robby!" she calls as she stops you behind the big desk in the middle of the room.

A tall, bearded man in cargo pants looks up, right at you cowering behind a lunch bag.

Now, Robby is certianly a name that you're familiar with.

You've heard complaints about him, you've heard the singing of his praises, not to mention how intimidating he is.

"Yeah? Who's this?" he asks, putting his glasses into his pocket and coming closer.

A second later, you realize that Dana isn't answering for you and that Dr. Robby is looking right at you.

"Oh! I, um, this is Dennis' lunch. He forgot it. I just, I thought I would drop it off." you explain, yet again.

Dr. Robby looks behind you, most likely at Dana, and sighs, rubbing his hand over his face.

"Yeah, yeah, he's definitely around here somewhere. I'll go grab him." he agrees before turning and walking towards a room.

Dana once again grabs you by the shoulder, this time urging you into a chair while she stands in front of you.

"So you live with Whitaker, yeah?" she prompts, smiling.

"Oh, yeah, he um, he moved in a couple of months ago." you reveal.

"Yeah?" she asks with a smile, "is it going good?"

"Yeah,' you confirm, thinking the question is slightly odd, "he's been pretty easy to live with. No complaints," you joke, pulling a chuckle from Dana.

"Yeah, he's a peach, isn't he?" she asks.

"For sure, I'm- he's very nice." you reply lamely.

"Nice? That's all I'm getting? You're killing me, kid." Dana chuckles.

Before you can clarify, Dr. Robby is returning with a sheepish Dennis trailing behind him.

"Hey, thank you so much, you really didn't need to bring it all the way here," he thanks.

You stand up as he approaches, holding out the lunch for him to take.

"That's okay," you deny, "I was running early for once anyway," you chuckle.

"Well," he pauses, "I appreciate it," he smiles.

You return his smile, the stale air between you starting to feel awkward. With a quick glance around, you spy at least 4 other nurses or doctors watching the interaction intensely. Dana and Dr. Robby hadn't left, also watching you.

"Okay, well, I have to go before I'm late to work," you say, inching towards the door. "I'll, um, I'll see you later." you say as you turn away.

"Yeah, bye!" he says.

"You're not gonna walk her out?" Dana prompts, looking between the two of you.

"No, no that's okay, he's probably busy," you deny with a flush on your face. Why are all of these people staring at you?!

Feeling wigged out, you turn quickly around and walk towards the door, giving a slight wave to the group before you slip through the doors.

As soon as the doors click shut behind you, you let out a deep breath, shaking your head to clear it as you walk out into the cool morning air.

"Who was-" Dr. Santos asks, looking in the direction that all of the eyes in the room are staring, catching a quick glimpse of your profile before the doors close. "What's she doing here?" she asks, looking at Whitaker.

"She brought Dennis his lunch, isn't that sweet?" Dana coos.

Dr. Santos sighs, "You've got to stop forgetting that, man." she reprimands. "I'll tell her not to bring it again, this is way out of her way to get to work."

"Hey, I didn't even ask her to, I didn't even realize I forgot it!" he whines.

"Whatever, whatever," she waves him off, "but if you make her late to work and give her asshole boss an excuse to yell at her, I'll kill you, okay?" she threatens.

Whitaker nods stiffly.

"Stop stealing my girlfriends' precious time, you do enough of that at home when you hog her to talk about Star Wars." Dr. Santos scoffs before picking up her adandoned tablet and walking towards her next case.

"Wha- girlfriend?" Dana stutters, "hers?" she asks.

Dennis gives another short nod and walks away as well, happy to be out of the awkward situation.

Dana and Dr. Robby share surprised looks.

After a beat of silence, he asks.

"Did you know that Whitaker and Santos lived together?"

I looooooove trinity santos with my whole heart, kisses to every person on here who was written about her muah muah mauh

that being said she deserves so many more fics about her!!! justice for dr santos!!!

let me know if you like this, i would be more than happy to write more if you want!!

[flwrkid14]

hey, so for your “Love, in All its Impossible Forms” can you put Tim and Danny in a scenario where Danny has to either choose the world or Tim, and everyone and I mean everyone is telling Danny that he has to choose the world while Tim is staying quiet because he believes no he knows what Danny would choose. Danny, ever the hero would choose the world he so desperately fights to keep safe. Tim is okay with being the other option, he has only ever been the other option.

But what Tim doesn’t know is that Danny has never fought to keep the world safe. No, he fights to keep his loved ones safe, he fights so his family is safe, so Tim is safe.

Now that Tim is being threatened? Well Danny has never felt sentimental about this world, he’s sure Tim could adjust to a new world. After all, what’s the point in Danny being the ghost king if he can’t even do as he pleases?

And Tim? Tim would follow Danny no matter what he chooses, because that is love. Love isn’t conditional, not like how the batfam’s feel, not like how his parent’s felt.

(Take your time!)

anon, you saw into the softest and cruelest part of this story. the part where the world calls Danny a hero, demands he live up to the myth they made of him—and the part where Tim quietly prepares to be left behind.

because that’s what love is supposed to do, right? love chooses the world. love lets go.

but Danny’s never played by those rules. and this time… he doesn’t want to.

When the world begins to end, it’s quieter than anyone expects. No fire, no screaming sky—just cold calculations. A choice. A question with only one right answer.

Danny is called to the center of it. Not as a boy. Not even as a ghost. But as a king. As the King. The one being with enough power to fix it. To rewrite entropy itself if he just agrees to the terms.

All he has to do is choose the world. The millions of people who’ve never known his name, who would never thank him. The strangers who will live because of his sacrifice.

Or—

“Or,” they never say. Because there isn’t supposed to be an “or.”

But Danny feels it.

He feels it in the silence where Tim should be begging. He feels it in the way Tim stands just behind the gathered voices, distant, steady, waiting. Not asking for anything. Not even hoping.

Because Tim’s not the kind of person who gets chosen.

He’s always been the fallback, the extra, the strategic loss. Even in his own family. Even in love. And Danny—Danny is the kind of person who saves the world.

So Tim prepares himself to be left behind. Quietly. Without resentment. Because he understands. And he’s not surprised.

But Danny is.

Because Tim doesn’t know. Doesn’t know that the only reason Danny’s ever fought at all was to protect the people he loves. He’s never been sentimental about the world. He’s never even liked it all that much.

He fought to keep his family safe. His home. His people.

And now—

Danny looks at Tim. At the boy who never asks. Who loves so deeply and quietly he assumes that love means sacrifice. Who isn’t trying to make Danny choose. Because he already thinks he’s the thing that gets left behind.

And Danny can’t. He just can’t do it.

Because what’s the point of saving the world if it means losing the reason you were saving it in the first place?

What kind of king protects an empire and lets his heart die on the battlefield?

So Danny says no.

He turns to the council of ancients, to the army of heroes, to the crying civilians and the trembling ambassadors. And he chooses Tim.

And it’s not fair.

It’s not heroic.

It’s cruel in the way all real love is cruel—because it draws a line between “everyone” and “someone,” and then crosses it without apology.

The backlash is immediate. Gasps. Rage. Horror. They call him selfish. A monster. A failure.

And maybe he is.

But he looks at Tim, and for the first time in his life, he isn’t afraid of being selfish.

Tim stares back, disbelieving. He hadn’t prepared for this part. He hadn’t prepared to be wanted more than the world.

“I don’t understand,” he breathes.

And Danny says, “You don’t have to.”

Because Tim would follow Danny anywhere. To a world that will hate them both. To a universe where no one knows their names. To an entirely new timeline where there’s no pressure, no expectation, no family holding him back. And that's exactly what Danny asks him, to follow him to a future they make themselves. One the world may never forgive them for.

Tim nods.

And that’s love, too.

Not the conditional kind. Not the kind that’s earned or tested or weighed. But the impossible kind. The cruel, human kind.

The kind that lets the world burn because one person mattered more.

[hellspawnmotel]

haha okay okay, I'll share my thoughts (this got long whoops. lots to cover)

first of all, just to clear I'm not saying that I think toby is trying to make the fanbase assume wholesomeness in EVERY relationship he writes, or even every lesbian relationship. I don't think he did that for alphyne, I think that is just a genuinely wholesome relationship for the most part. they have some stuff to work out (mostly based around alphys' lying and insecurities) but what couple doesnt? I did theorize that toby might have kept that in mind while writing suselle specifically though, given the surface-level similarities to alphyne (which essentially just boil down to 'tough girl x shy girl'). considering that toby's been developing noelle and susie since at least 2015 I doubt that's where he started out with the two of them, but I think it's plausible it influenced how he chose to frame their scenes in the final product.

I haven't seen whatever post you're talking about discussing alphyne vs RG01/RG02, and to be frank I don't remember seeing a lot of art of the knights that was overly sexual as opposed to just cute. I do believe that there's some level of it that I just haven't encountered but I don't know if it was the best example to illustrate this point. it IS true though that when it comes to shipping, there's a trend of viewing relationships between two men as inherently more sexual than relationships between two women, because misogyny and I can't get into why that happens in more specificity without going on a massive tangent and I trust you guys already know all that.

so let's just assume that we all understand these basic societal ideals, and the fact they get subconsciously drilled into our heads whether we like it or not: the default way to be a woman is to be a domestic caretaker. gentle, kind, pure, level-headed, someone who does all she can to avoid emotional conflict. or any conflict for that matter- a well-adjusted woman hates conflict, to avoid it she'll become submissive or run away or try to mediate or just faint into the arms of a man about it. men are the ones who initiate or confront conflict, who "make things happen".

then what happens when there are no men around? if a relationship is just two women in love, and the relationship is healthy, then there must be no conflict. all you're left with is sweet and pure domestic bliss. that's when it's "wholesome". therefore, if a relationship between two women DOES involve conflict, it must be unhealthy because it means something is "wrong" with one or both of them. so to that end I think it's much easier to conclude that a ship between two women is "toxic" than a ship between two men. or a ship between a man and a woman, for that matter. picture your average romcom centered around a heterosexual relationship, and ask yourself, if everything was exactly the same but it was two women instead, would it get called "toxic yuri"?

FTR, I understand that the phrase "toxic yuri" rose in popularity and prominence as backlash against this exact kind of thinking- we want lesbian relationships that involve conflict, and calling it "toxic" affectionately is in direct response to those who argue that any relationship between two women that isnt all sunshine and daisies is unhealthy and abusive. and there are PLENTY of girl/girl pairings that I would actually describe as "toxic" in sincerity and that's the appeal and what makes them interesting. but I think the (over)use of the word has gotten to a point where you gotta look at yourself and ask if that's what your ship really is, or if you just want to use a popular phrase- and more importantly, if mislabeling these relationships as "toxic" when conflict gets involved is just looping around and perpetuating the problem in a different way.

(remembering this was supposed to be about suselle) UMM. in conclusion I think if more people start to acknowledge the conflict or potential for conflict in susie and noelle's romantic storyline then we're gonna see it called "toxic yuri" even though nothing about it has changed. and I think that on the other side of that, those who exclusively want cute and lovey-dovey suselle are prone to ignoring any conflict or even denying it's there. not all the time! but it happens.

[limeade-l3sbian]

So many cultures are terrified to just parent with love. I know for a lot of them, it comes from trauma and is a way to steel the kid(s) for the real world and to let them know that life will be hard but in too many cases, the base of it is entirely too centered from either not wanting their kids to have an easier childhood than them or refusing to be seen as anything other than their child's god - unquestioned and always obeyed.

Why is the idea of your child wanting to understand why you've said 'no' such an offense to you? Why is the idea of this new person (bc that's what a child is) doing something wrong for the first time make you feel the need to call them stupid? Why are you only allowed to get it wrong? Why are you inflicting adult philosophies that can only be fully comprehended by a fully developed brain onto your child in the name of having a "valid" reason to hate them?

I don't know if I mentioned this but there was a clip of a little black boy in his class and he was cussing at the teacher. But the way he was talking, how he was turned away and curled up into himself was like, "Dude, this kid is obviously fucking hurting and the way he's cussing sounds recited. Like he's heard it a million times." But the comments, ever disappointing, are either laughing or talking about how much they'd love to give him an ass whooping so bad he can't sit.

Then you'll have those clips where these little black kids get put in some extracurricular activity and have their teacher or mentor show them basic kindness, and they just break down into full sobs. The kid isn't a piece of shit and they're not little demons or whatever the fuck. It's a fucking kid who just wants someone to be nice to them. Basic ass kindness and love. To hear, "I just want to make sure you're okay" instead of being cussed at or called out their name.

I've said that you can't outlove socialization, and I do stand by that. But I think it is possible to outlove a lot of the cruelty they can expect in the world.

[clxja16]

Enough

Charles Leclerc X Wolff!Reader

Genre: betrayal (?)

Warnings: I think there's some swearing, angst

Word Count: 5K+

Author's Note: Okay you guys voted for this one, and honestly I thought that the fake dating trope was going to win but I guess not. also I kind of need help with the genre, because its not really forbidden lovers. Like is there a genre of your parents betraying your trust in the name of protecting you??? but anyway lmk what you guys think. Actually please tell me what you think, because I'm scared I made this too dramatic. enjoy though <3

-----------------------

You lingered in one of the back halls before the start of qualifying.  It was the Austrian Grand Prix.  You looked around making sure that no one was in sight.  Charles started to giggle at your antics of keeping this under wraps.  You pulled at him, trying to push him right out the door. 

“Go back to your garage,” you say gently pushing Charles further out the back entry of the Mercedes garage. 

“After I get a good luck kiss?” Charles asks, as he holds his hands up in surrender.  

You shake your head at him, before saying, “quickly, before someone sees us,” pulling Charles into a kiss, by his race suit.  Charles grabs your face with both hands, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss further.  You pull away first, worried about who might catch you sneaking about the garage halls, “okay now go, I’ll see you tonight.” 

Charles doesn’t let go of your face, pulling you back in for a quick peck on the lips, “okay I’m going.”  Charles finally lets you go, and shoots you a quick wink before walking off.  

You turn back around to take your place in the garage next to your father, when you hear him calling out for you.  You look back to see Charles has walked just far enough away to be out of sight, as your father turns the corner to come face to face with you.  You let out a breath of relief that they missed each other.  “y/n,” your father calls to your attention, “let’s get settled, qualifying is about to start.” 

“Yes, daddy,” you answer, following after your father, to watch qualifying.  

You have just finished your degree, a Masters in Business Administration from HBS and a Masters of Science from Harvard John A. Paulson SEAS.  It took you nearly 5 and a half years to complete, but you did it regardless.  Now, you attend the races to better learn how to apply the knowledge learnt in school to running a formula one team.  This is all so that one day you will take over the formula one team from your father. 

As you watched George and Lewis set out to do their first few qualifying laps of the session, you longed for it to be you in those cars.  You really didn't dream of being behind the scenes, you dream of being up front and center, in the limelight, in the car.  You wanted to set the fastest lap, you wanted to be getting grand prix victories, you wanted to win championships.  However, you didn’t get a seat in formula 2, so your parents did the ‘reasonable’ thing and sent you off to school, instead of waiting around for the chance of a seat opening up.  

“Look here,” your father spoke to you, as he pointed at some data on one of the many monitors in front of him.  

“George is a tenth too early,” you say, trying your best to understand the data in front of you.  

“Yes, exactly, good,” your father praises, before speaking with a couple of the race engineers.  “Now we don’t want George to overly focus on what is going wrong, so we praise, advice and praise again.” You listen to the radio as the engineer, compliments George on his turn 3 and 4, critiques his turn 7, and compliments his turn 10 and 11.  “When you take over, you have to remember that you are going to have to manage the drivers' psyche as well as their driving.” 

“Father, I won’t be taking over for a long time, you’re gonna need to find someone in between you and me, to manage the team.” 

“No,” your father declares, like his decision is final, “I will retire late, and you will start early.” 

“Yes Father,” you say, no reason to start an argument now. 

-

“Congratulations on another podium,” you spoke sweetly to Charles at the end of the Austrian grand prix weekend. You and him were hiding out in his hotel room, trying your best to stay away from the cameras, from fans and most importantly from your father. 

“It’s only the second podium of the season,” Charles said as he dried his hair with the towel while walking out of the bathroom.  “We’re so far behind this season, it’s laughable.” 

“You could always make the move to Mercedes, Daddy would love to have you racing for him,” you say, as you wrap your arms around Charles, after he takes a seat on the edge of the bed.  

You can hear Charles chuckle a little, before turning around to face you. “Never,” he says with a smile, pushing you back down on the bed, kissing you deeply.  You can’t contain the laughter that spills from your lips.  

“We would make sure you win championships,” you argue, teasing Charles once again. 

“And who’s giving up a seat for me?” Charles asks, as he moves from your lips down your neck, spreading his kisses all around.  

“Lewis isn’t going to stay much longer,” you reveal.  

“What?” Charles asked, as he pulled away to look at you.  The seriousness setting in. 

“Don’t say anything to anyone,” you start off, as you sit up in the bed, looking at Charles deeply, “Daddy offered Lewis another four years, Lewis said he only wanted to sign on for two more right now.”  

“Why?” 

“I don’t know,” you say honestly, “believe it or not, Lewis does not reveal his intentions to me like you do.”  

Charles cracks a smile hearing you tease, “well, maybe I could do Mercedes silver,” he says as he goes back to kissing you. 

You and Charles spend the night together, as the two of you have done many times before.  The next morning, you try to sneak out early enough where no one notices your empty hotel room.  Charles makes your heart feel full, being around him makes you feel at peace, he wears your worries like his own.  He’s everything you ever wanted and needed, and more.  You know that there was no plausible way you could keep this a secret any longer.  You love him too much to pretend nothing is going on.  Although, you also know that your father would not be the happiest, he always said drivers weren’t the type of people you bring home.  However Charles is different, you know he’s what you need, you know that you can bring him home. 

When you did make it back to your own hotel room, you don’t think anyone checked in on the empty room.  You made quick work of packing up your belongings, your father was flying out of Vienna this afternoon, to get a jumpstart on Silverstone.  It being a home grand prix for both of your drivers, the entire week was packed with events.  All events in which you had to attend.  

-

After arriving in Silverstone, did you finally take a breather.  George and Lewis both went to visit their families for the first day.  This allowed you and your father to spend some time away from the race track.  Father instead just went to the factory, and spent some time in the office.  You on the other hand went out with Mamma, before she had to head down to Monza for the F1 Academy race.  

“Mamma,” you called out to Susie,  “do you think Daddy is serious about me taking over the team one day?” 

Your question was enough to stop Susie in her tracks, “yes, I do think he’s serious about it.”  She gave you a perplexed look.  Your father has been talking about you taking over the team since you went off to college.  He is determined that with his recommendation the board will approve for the team principal position. 

“I don’t know if that’s what I want to do though,” you say truthfully.  “I don’t know if I can handle being so close, but not being able to race.” As much as your mind was focused on being a team principal, your heart wanted to drive. 

Susie came up to you, pushing your hair behind your ear, holding your face. She had a gentle smile on her face, but there was a sadness behind her eyes that you couldn’t place.  “You are racing, if you take over the team, you are still a part of the race, but if you walk away, you will only be a spectator.” 

You sigh, you know she’s right, “you’re right, like you always are.” 

Susie laughs at your joke, “tell your Father because he never seems convinced that I’m always right.”  

You laugh, as you and Susie enter the restaurant for lunch.  “Mamma, can I ask you another question?” 

“Of course sweetheart,” Susie answers worryingly, you are not normally this ominous.  

“Would you be upset if I started seeing a driver?”  

Susie doesn’t hide the shock on her face, after your question, “who is it?”  She smirks at you, you weren’t the best at hiding your feelings from Susie.  She was the first to know about your first boyfriend in High school.  She was the first to know about the guy who cheated on you.  She was the first to know about the college boy you wanted to bring home.  And she was the first to know that none of them were enough to match you.  

“It’s no one, it's just a hypothetical, Mamma.” 

“Who, sweetheart?” 

You debate for a second about how to answer, but you know you can’t lie.  You gave away too much, and Susie knows you only use ‘hypothetical’ when it's real.  “Charles.” 

“Leclerc?”  Susie doesn’t mask her shock for a single second.  

“Mamma,” you whine at her reaction.  

“Sweetheart, your father is gonna have an aneurysm when he hears this.” 

“Mamma,” you whine again, this time more seriously, as you feel the water works coming on.  

“Sweetheart?” Susie questions, her face going from shock to stone cold serious as she sees how upset you are.  “This is serious.” 

You sigh, “I really like him, Mamma.  He makes me very happy.”  You look at Susie, and you don’t like the look she has even more.  

She looks very seriously at you, while also having the ‘its not good’ look.  “Your father is not going to like this,” she says honestly, “but,” you watch Susie as she begins to smile, “if you’re happy, that is what's important.” 

You begin to smile as well, “Daddy will get over it right?” 

“I hope so,” Susie says truthfully.  You were Toto’s oldest, nothing would ever be good enough for you.  You were his pride and joy, you were the first, and as the first, you are everything to your father.  Susie knows this, and she knows that no matter how much Charles tries, Toto still won’t think he’s good enough for you.  

-

Susie reminds you that the best way to handle this, is to inform your father sooner rather than later. You agree, but you want to make sure that you and Charles are on the same page as well.  Thursday night, once again you are hiding out in Charles' hotel room, instead of staying in your own room.  The two of you cuddle together on the bed as a movie plays on the TV. 

“Charles,” you start off softly, afraid to disturb the delicate peace that’s settled across the room, “where do you see this going?” 

“What do you mean by that?” Charles asked, as he glanced at you.  

“Us, our relationship, where do you see it going?”  You stared at Charles, while listening to his steady heartbeat. 

“I don’t know,” Charles answers, his answer holds a brutal truth that you don’t like, you sit up to look at Charles, “but, I hope it goes far and long.”  Charles continues to lay in bed while you stare at him, “ I hope that it gets out of hotel rooms, and garage halls, and private phone calls.  I hope it gets you into some red Ferrari gear,” you smile at Charles’ preposterous hope, “I hope that it gets further than this. I love you y/n.”

“I love you too,” you reassure.   

“Why do you ask me that ma chère?” 

“I’m going to tell my father about us,” you say, “and your plans to move to Mercedes.”  You just have to tease him a little bit.  

Charles laughs at you, “you mean your plans to be a Ferrari fan from now on.”  And he always knew how to handle your teasing. 

You laugh going to kiss Charles, “that’s so much work,” you say with another kiss, “you should just switch teams.” 

Charles laughs sarcastically, he loves the banter.  “y/n,” he calls.  It stops you, he never uses your name, “I really do love you.”  He’s probably told you this same sentiment over a thousand times, but each time, it still feels like the first time.  

Your cheeks hurt from how hard you’re smiling, “I love you too.”  Somehow these ‘I love you's' are different, they’re more significant, more meaningful, more genuine, more heartfelt, more profound.  They’re more serious, because they’re not just ‘I love you,’ they’re a promise, a commitment, a lifetime, together.  

-

“Daddy, please can you be rational about this?” You ask as you follow your father about the Monaco home.  Trying to get him to stop complaining about your choices in men.  

“Why couldn’t you date George, at least you would still be supporting Mercedes,” your Father says as the two of you make your way into the kitchen to see Mamma and Jack. 

“Mamma do you hear him?” You ask, indicating your father as ‘him.’ “George is very much in a relationship, Father” 

“And what’s wrong with Lewis?” Your father clearly is not thinking about the age difference between you and Lewis.  

You looked to Mamma to see if your father was serious, and even she was shocked with the suggestion, “you would be okay with me dating someone that is 14 years my senior?” you ask with a brow raised to your father, “you’ve convinced me Daddy, I will stop seeing Charles and start seeing Lewis.” 

Your father sighs, “that is not what I…” 

“Daddy, I invited Charles over for dinner, tomorrow night, that way you can properly meet him as my partner, instead of as a driver.” You tell your father, hoping that you're just imagining the steaming coming out of his ears, “one dinner, Daddy, that’s all.  He makes me really happy.” 

“Okay,” your Father says.  You don’t miss the slight eye roll he gives though.  

“Thank you Daddy,” you say, giving him a hug, before running off to your room like a teenage girl to call Charles and let him know about dinner tomorrow night.  

After your father hears your bedroom door shut, does he turn to his wife.  “Susie,” he calls out, still listening for you, to see if you were coming back out. “A word, privately.” 

“Okay,” Susie answers a bit confused about the request, she turns to Jack, “why don’t you go play for right now.”  Jack nods along excitedly, before running out the room.  “Toto, what is it?” 

“She can’t date Charles.” Toto says, turning his full attention to his wife. 

“What?” 

“Susie, I have seen the drivers in relationships.  They have their girlfriend one weekend, then they have a club girl the next weekend, and then some lucky fan the following weekend.  Charles is no different.” Toto doesn’t hold back in his recounting of the drivers stepping out on their partners, “y/n is gonna get hurt, and her entire image will be tainted by being cheated on by Charles.” 

“Toto don’t you think you’re being a little unfair.” Susie tries her best to defend Charles, but she knows Toto is telling the truth.  She’s seen it too, from a number of drivers amongst the ranks throughout the years.  

“Charles is a hell of a driver, but I'm not gonna allow him to ruin my daughter.”  Toto declares as final, “we need to find a way to stop them from seeing each other before the public catches wind of their relationship.” 

“Toto,” Susie takes a breath, if they do this, they would have to tread very carefully, or they could end more than just your relationship with Charles.  “If she ever finds out that we are interfering in her life like this, she won’t forgive us, she's not a kid anymore.” 

“She wasn’t a kid when we pulled her from racing,” Toto drags up a long forgotten and regretted moment, “we do what we have to, to protect our children, regardless of how it may look.” 

“We’ll need to play this close to the vest.” 

-

To say the evening was filled with tension and awkwardness would be an understatement.  Your father continuously gave Charles dirty looks throughout the night, and you wanted to slap him for being so childish.  Susie was pleasant throughout the evening.  Jack was just being Jack.  He probably talked the most, asking Charles about what it was like to be a real race car driver. 

“This is a very lovely meal,” Charles says to Susie.  You appreciate him trying his best to not ruffle your father’s feathers. 

“Thank you Charles,” Susie appreciates the compliments.  She doesn’t know what is best, because Toto is determined to stop you and Charles from seeing each other.  

“Charles, did you ever pee in the car?” Jack asks, as he shovels another pile of food in his mother.  

“Jack,” you say in a scolding manner, while Charles just laughs at the question.  

Charles has to take a sip of water before answering, “I try my best to make sure I use the bathroom before I get into the car.”  

“Enough questions Jack,” you say to your little brother, getting irritated with how much he was talking.  

“I just wanted to ask the racecar driver,” Jack pouts.  He makes that face with an exaggerated frown, that almost makes you feel guilty.  

“Jack, we’re all race car drivers.  Me, Mamma and Daddy have all raced cars before and you never ask us.” you argue back, you almost feel stupid that you have to argue with a five year old.  

“But you didn’t make it to formula 1,” Jack points out, and now you don’t feel guilty, you just feel sad that Jack had to point out one of your biggest regrets in life.  

“Jack,” Susie says, scolding your brother.  

“I didn’t know you raced,” Charles says, turning to look at you.  

You smile, thinking back to the time, “Yeah, I did karting for years, then I did formula renault, F4 and F3.” 

“Why did you stop?” Charles asks, wondering how you could give it up. 

“I didn’t get a seat in Formula two, and the agreement was if I could get a seat I could race, but I wouldn’t pass up opportunities to race. I got into college, so I gave up racing and went back to school.”  You reveal to Charles, he can hear the regret in your voice, but he chooses not to point it out.  You don’t see that look Susie and Toto exchange when they hear your retelling of events. 

“I see,” Charles says, “It’s a shame, I think you would’ve been a hell of a driver.” 

You chuckle at Charles, “I would definitely have more wins than you by now,” you tease.  

“Oh?” Charles smirks at you, “you would?” 

“Of course I would, because I would be driving for Mercedes, for sure.” You chuckle at your own joke.  

Charles shakes his head at you, his smile spreading far and wide.  Susie watches you and Charles, she's been watching you throughout the night and she knows Charles is enough for you.  She knows that this is your person, that they will never be another that will be able to compete with Charles.  It's him or nothing.  

-

You skip the Hungarian grand prix, especially as the media releases pictures of you and Charles, going back to the Monaco Grand Prix.  Your father thought it best that you stay home, he wasn’t sure how people would react to the relationship news.  You spent a few days before your father left for Hungary, arguing with him that it was unfair to bench you, because of the possibility that fans won’t like the news. 

Clearly, your father won that argument as you sat at home in Monaco, watching the sessions through the TV, instead of being there in person.  What Toto doesn’t tell you, is that he wants you home, so that he can meet with Fred without you getting suspicious. 

After the qualifying session, Toto asked Fred, the team principal of Ferrari, to join him for dinner.  As the two men met away from the paddock, away from the cameras, from the drivers, from the team.  They sat in a private dining room, in an elite restaurant.  Only here did Toto feel comfortable asking what he was about to ask.  

“What are we doing here Toto?” Fred asks, as he sips the beer he ordered.  Fred wouldn’t say it, betraying his French roots, but he always preferred a bottle of beer over a glass of wine.  

“Fred, I have a favor to ask,” Toto requests, he ignores his gut feeling telling him that this is wrong, and continues on, “I want you to delay Charles' contract signing.” 

“Why would I do that?” Fred asks, delaying a contract signing seems like it’s not a big deal, but there's many implications to what that could mean.  

“You would do it, because then I will be in debt to you,” Toto says, he's thought about this, he knows his way through a negotiation. 

“Okay,” Fred says, he has a reason to do so, but what is Toto’s reason for asking? “Now why do you need me to do this?”  

Toto sighs, “y/n.” 

“Your daughter, I saw the news about her Charles,” Fred pauses, taking another sip of the beer, “well actually Charles told me about the relationship back in Miami.” 

“Miami?” Toto questions, “she didn’t tell me until after silverstone.” 

“Charles said he wanted me to know before the public knew, would like to know what else he said?” 

“What?” Toto sighs, once more. 

“Charles said he wants to do this right, that he is serious about her,” Fred offers. 

“We’ve both heard drivers say one thing and do another,” Toto fixes his posture, sitting up in the chair, “I won’t allow my daughter’s image to be run through by Charles.” 

“So you want me to delay a contract signing, to do what?  So you can scare Charles into picking a seat over your daughter? And what happens when he picks your daughter over his seat?”  Fred sits up in his chair as well, looking Toto square in the eyes.  

“If he picks my daughter over his seat, then I know he’s serious about her,” Toto stands upm buttoning his jacket, “but we both know he won’t do that.”  Toto sticks out his hand for Fred to shake.  

Fred stands to shake Toto’s hand, “this doesn’t mean I agreed to anything.”  

“You will agree,” Toto smiles, a little amused at the situation, “we both know me in debt to you is too valuable to pass up.” 

-

Since the news of your relationship has been made public, you and Charles are seen together around the paddock during the Belgian Grand Prix a lot more.  Although you guys did try to keep it as professional as possible, there weren't any public displays of affection between the two of you.  However, that went straight out the window after the race podium celebration.  

Instead of watching the podium you stayed in the garage with your father, since there wasn’t a Mercedes on the podium.  As soon as Charles was done with the podium celebration, he ran straight into the Mercedes garage to collect a celebratory kiss from you.  His, sweaty, champagne-covered, sticky self, pulling you into a tight hug with a deep kiss.   He had one arm wrapped around your waist, while his other hand held onto his trophy.  You were taken aback by the initial kiss, but soon you cupped his cheek and held him close.  

Charles would’ve kissed you longer, but he could feel the cameras on the two of you.  When he finally did pull away, you were a giggling mess that you didn’t even notice the cameras at first.  “Let’s go,” Charles whispers to you, “let’s get out of here.” 

You wanted desperately to leave right then and there with Charles, “I can’t,” you say.  You watch his smile drop just a little, “I have work to finish,” you say while giving the side eye to where your father sat in the Mercedes garage, watching you and Charles.  “And you have a press conference.” 

“Okay, after that then.” Charles says, kissing you on the cheek this time.  

“After that.” 

-

That night, while you and Charles celebrated his podium finish, the picture of you and him making out in the Mercedes garage after his podium celebrations, hit social media. That photo is more talked about than Max’s 8th grand prix win in a row.  That photo is in all the group chats around the paddock.  That photo makes it to the official formula 1 social media pages.  And the biggest take away is your father’s face in the background of the photo.  Everytime you look at it, you laugh knowing that your father most likely made that face subconsciously.  

Since summer break has begun, you spend more time with Charles than at home with your family.  Today, you just so happen to need a few things from your closet, that you stopped in the Monaco home.  That is when you could overhear your parents talking in your father’s office.  

“We need to be more discreet about this now,” your father says to Mamma. 

“Toto, I don’t think this is right.  It’s not fair to y/n or Charles,” Susie says.  Normally you wouldn’t eavesdrop on your parents, but the mention of you and Charles caught your attention.  

“I am trying to protect our daughter,” Toto says, and you can’t help but think. What is your father trying to protect you from? 

“This isn’t protecting her, this is your fear about what could happen,” Susie says.  You can hear in your mamma voice, she’s getting defensive.  

“Like how your fear pulled her from racing,” Toto says in a raised voice.  You’re completely confused as to what your father could mean with that statement.  

There’s a pause.  It goes silent for a second, and you listen closer.  “I was saving her life, we weren’t sure what the FIA would do after Jules.”  There’s a pain in Susie’s voice.  

“Safety measures were put in place,” Toto argues.  

“After you pushed back on them.” 

“I have changed my position on the halo, you know that,” Toto says.  Even though the wood doors separate you from seeing your parents, you can clearly imagine what this fight is looking like. 

“After Lewis almost dies!”  Mamma never shouts, is your singular thought after hearing that statement.  “What if you had gotten your way and the halo was never placed?  What if it was our daughter in that car?  I pulled her from racing to save her life, because you sure as hell wasn’t going to do it.”  Susie pulls open the office door to see you standing on the other side.  You watch her face drop from anger to sadness quickly.  “Sweetheart…” 

“Mamma… you pulled me from racing?” You question as the tears begin to well in your eyes. 

“Sweetheart…” Susie repeats, shes at a complete loss for words.  

“You told me that I wasn’t picked up for a seat.” you take a breath before you start crying, “was that the truth?” 

“Darling,” Toto calls out to you.  

“Was it the truth?” You ask again, this time you make the hurt evident in your voice, “you told me a team didn’t want to pick me for F2, was that the truth?” 

“You weren’t anybody’s first choice,” Susie pauses, “but you were on the list.”  You feel your break, as you start to cry.  “We worked a few negotiations to ensure that you didn’t get picked.  We worked to pull you from racing.”  

You were a hyperventilating mess, you couldn’t stop the tears, the sobs, the heartbreak from happening. “You told me…You told me, if I earned my seat without you or daddy interfering I could keep racing.  You promised that you would let me race.” 

“We wanted to protect you, we didn’t want what happened to Jules.” 

“Don’t you dare,” you snap at Susie, “don’t use what happened to Jules as an excuse.”  You walked away, racing up the stairs.  Towards your bedroom, you could hear your parents rushed footsteps as they followed after you.  You began to shove clothes into a bag, as you tried to violently wipe away the tears.  

“Where are you going?” Your father asks in a calm voice.  

“I’m gonna stay with Charles for a while.”  When you mention Charles, you remembered the beginning of the conversation.  You stopped packing your clothes.  Slowly you turned to face your parents.  “What did you do?” 

“Excuse me?” your father questions. 

“What did you do to Charles?  Mamma said it wasn’t right, it wasn’t fair, whatever you were doing.  What did you do to Charles daddy?” You’re out of breath, you fear whatever your father has to say.   

You watch as your father sighs, he hangs his head.  “I asked Fred to delay his contract signing.  Ferrari wants to keep Charles, they’re going to give him whatever he wants.  I asked for Fred to just hold off on signing the contract.” 

You scoff at the revelation.  “Just long enough to scare Charles into picking a seat over me.  This is rich from the both of you.”  

“Sweetheart…” Susie calls out to you as she reaches to hold you.  

“Don’t touch me,” you snap once again.  You couldn’t tell if you were really angry or sad or shocked, but you did know you were just hurt.  Your parents had taken away your dreams, and they were trying to take away your love.  “You took away racing,” you take a breath, you strip away all the excess, you let them hear the hurt in your voice, “I won’t let you take Charles away too.”  

When you do make it Charles’ place.  When he opens the door for you, he sees you silently crying and shaking.  Your voice is hoarse already, that it’s only a whisper when you ask, “can I stay with you for a few days?” 

“Of course,” Charles says as he welcomes you inside.  When he finally closes the door, you drop your bag to the floor, and just hold onto Charles tightly.  He wraps his arms around you, providing you with the comfort you longed for.

-----------------------------

Part II

[yourcupbearer]

‧₊ 𐔌 Transplural Tips & Ideas <3 ˚｡⋆୨୧

You heard me, I'm gonna do what nobody's done before... and by that I mean plenty of people have done it before. But that's besides the point! <3 This post is a buuunch of tips about furthering your progression into plurality from start to finish, from a cisplural + cisDID! These are all just ideas though, and none of it is mandatory; you're still just as plural even if you don't do any of these things! <33

Note that this is a very, VERY long read, framed to help you further understand and form your system. It can also be used by cisplurals / severity-plurals! This post includes: general tips to encourage progress, how to recognize and help alters form, inspiration for fleshing out fragments, tips for creating your headspace, and more!

I. General Tips!

⊹˖ ⤑ Affirmations, affirmations, affirmations. It might not seem like it, but your mind can do a lot of things just with the power of suggestion, and the language you use affects you deeply!! No saying things like "I want to be a system" -- be more specific; "I want my headspace to be more fleshed out", "I want my sysmates to be more distinct", etc. This not only helps you get clear goals set that you can actually work towards, but it also helps to convince your brain that you're a system.

⊹˖ ⤑ Avoid negative language and fakeclaiming. Similarly to the above, you need to use affirmations that help convince your brain. Negative language tells your brain those negative thoughts; I go into a little detail about this more here, but essentially, don't use negative language when discussing your transition! Even if you're feeling like your transition is going too slowly, using sarcasm with positive language will still trick your brain that you're being positive. Think of every time you fakeclaim yourself or call yourself a singlet or whatnot as five steps back; in order to make up for doing it once, you have to do a whole lot more of affirming to make up for it! This is to say that it isn't impossible to transition if you're very negative, but you will see more progress faster if you try to avoid it.

⊹˖ ⤑ Find a plural community to help affirm you. There are plenty of discord servers and tumblr communities centered around plurality. Find one and introduce yourself as a system -- not a "questioning system", not a "transitioning system", but as a system. This will help you affirm your identity more, as people will see and treat you as a system, and you can still ask for tips regarding helping your system form!

⊹˖ ⤑ Do research into different forms of plurality, how they manifest, and how they form! Do research into various -genic types, and see which one feels right to you. And if multiple feel right, you can always have multiple, or have different ones for different alters! You can find plenty of resources into helping you understand and mimic various ways of system creation if you know what to search for; try looking into endogenic systems, western tulpamancy, median systems, and seeing what you think might work for you! However remember that your system is your own -- It’s okay if you don’t have clear switches, distinct voices, or a headspace that’s easy to visualize. Many systems are subtle, blurry, or co-conscious, and none of that makes you any less of a system!!

II. Headmate Formation!

⊹˖ ⤑ When you first start off, it might be easier to notice different alters based on when your headspace changes (your actual mood and behavior -- not the inner world!). Don't force them, but notice them. Start by paying attention: any thoughts that might seem out of the blue, sudden shifts in your emotion, any habits that feel unfamiliar... Try to ask yourself if this is you or someone else! This is true for all systems, not just transplurals; I do this a lot when fronting to check if I'm alone in front.

⊹˖ ⤑ Give these changes names! It doesn't have to be a permanent name, but recognize them as a different person (or at least a different facet of you, if you believe in the "parts of a whole" formation). Over time, try to flesh them out; triggers can be things that put you into that mindset, interests can be things that you often engage with during that mindset, things like that! These are fragments, but they can form into full alters over time.

⊹˖ ⤑ When you recognize that this is happening, log it! Personally I use SimplyPlural ("SP"), but you can also use Octo-con (although SP is far more common, octo is mostly used by antis). You can also track this in any notes apps, journals, etc, communicate with alters, keep track of alters, organize alters, and more! Both are compatible with the discord app PluralKit ("PK") too. Some systems use Tupperbox, but I prefer PluralKit personally since it can easily be synced with SimplyPlural. You can use SimplyPlural on both mobile and desktop! I'll also be making a different post full of my SimplyPlural organization for those who want to get extra fancy with it, however this is just up to personal preference

⊹˖ ⤑ Try to communicate with your sysmate. At first you might need to put on a "mask" of sorts to do so, to try to give them a voice, but over time this will come easier as they settle in and find their own identity. You can do this also by letting them communicate with others; let them sign off on posts or messages they send with a specific "proxy" (either their name or an emoji), let them create a separate sideblog on Tumblr, let them use their own PluralKit or Tupper bot -- all of these are fantastic ways to help find what makes them them!

III. Fleshing out Fragments!

⊹˖ ⤑ The next step, once you've started to recognize fragments / facets, is to look into different types of alters. There are some common alter types that pop up frequently (please note that most of these descriptions are based in what they do for your system, but this may not be true of all alters of these types; along with this, there are plenty more not listed):

A) "Littles", which are children, usually needing cared for. These alters usually have the job of holding feelings of childhood, be it good or bad, and seeking out care and attention. Some systems have many of these; some have very few, if any at all.

B) Nonhumans, which can be animals or monsters. They usually hold feelings of being dehumanized, be it by reclaiming it or holding those negative feelings associated with it.

C) Religious alters are very common as well, be it an introject with a religious source, or an alter who believes they are a deity, angel, priest, demon, etc. These usually form to either help guide the system with religious endeavors, hold opinions and trauma about religion, or express some other facet caused by religion.

D) Introjects, which you've probably heard of if you're reading this. They can be from fictional media, internet personalities, friends, family, history, or anything else you can possibly think of. These are incredibly common, and often overlap with the above types, too! It is common for systems to have multiple introjects with the same source or source character, and it is also common for alters to form with the appearance of a character or person without actually being associated with their source.

⊹˖ ⤑ Some roles are more common in systems than others; the most basic are protectors, persecutors, gatekeepers, hosts, and littles. You can find a whole host of potential roles for alters on Pluralpedia, if you're looking for inspiration. There's a lot here; if you're trying to see if a term has already been made, then you can also join the Pluralpedia Discord Server, which has channels exclusively dedicated towards helping you find the system terms you're looking for!

⊹˖ ⤑ So, more on introjects -- the most common types are those which are sourced from a fictional character, content creator, or someone you know. But that's not actually all! Introjects can be sourced from ANYTHING that you get inspiration from. Locations, mythology, colors, songs, artwork -- anything you can think of! If you want specific words for every kind of introject, Pluralpedia has you covered for that, too; however the most common ones that I see are "fictive" (from a fictional media), "factive" (from a factional source), "godtive" (an introject of a god, also sometimes just labelled as an introject), and "songtive" (an introject from a song). Alters can also have multiple sources, so go absolutely ham!

⊹˖ ⤑ You need more inspiration for fleshing out alters? Go to Pinterest and look for artwork or characters that you like, and use those as inspiration and faceclaims for your sysmates. What shows or games do you like? Make your favorite characters that you relate to. You have OCs? Make them! I would also highly recommend searching through "Build-A-Headmate" (BAH) blogs, and seeing what fits your fragments! Picrew, Gacha, or other avatar apps can also be a great way to visualize your sysmates.

⊹˖ ⤑ Let your sysmates do things without your opinions or preferences seeping in as much as possible. This might be a sideblog full of only things they like, or maybe a Pinterest board exclusively for them, or their own playlist! A little can go a long way.

⊹˖ ⤑ Filling out their SP profiles, if you did that, can also help differentiate them as individuals! You can search for SimplyPlural templates for custom fields and folders, go to the SimplyPlural discord and view what people have shared in it, look at "OC templates" or "About Me" templates and see what people add to theirs, or anything else for inspiration! Like I said above, I'll be making my own post or doc of how I organize mine for those who want it.

IV. Headspace Creation!

⊹˖ ⤑ This one is a bit tricky, because it takes a lot of work. When you're first starting out, it might be best to make your headspace a place you know very well; maybe that's your house, your home base in a video game, or a fictional world that you have memorized very well. This can be changed and edited later, but it will help with visualizing it while you're getting started! Alternatively, it can be a small space that is incredibly simple; the important part is that you can try to imagine this space. I would highly recommend doing some form of mindfulness and meditation practices, as these will help you focus more and clear your head!

⊹˖ ⤑ Once you have that down, and you can easily and quickly imagine this space, you can start "editing" it. Don't rush this! While it may be very easy for some, it can take a long time for others, and rushing it will make you feel disheartened if it goes wrong. It's better to underestimate your abilities in this regard than to overestimate yourself! Try to add small details. For example, if your headspace is your house, try to imagine an object that you don't own in real life, and add it within your headspace. An example might be a lamp, a rug, or a stuffed animal; start small and simple. The next time you visualize or enter your headspace, see if that item is there. Try your best to visualize it as being there, until it becomes permanent.

⊹˖ ⤑ Once you can easily make edits such as this, you can start expanding the areas inside your headspace and make more major changes. This is where the fun part comes in! Your headspace can be anything you want, as long as you ease yourself into it. You can start the planning stage whenever you want, as long as you don't try to rush yourself with the process of fulfilling those plans.

V. Planning and Visualizing your Headspace!

⊹˖ ⤑ Okay, not that snappy of a title, but this is the fun part. Planning your headspace! I think Mindly is a great app for this if you're in the beginning aspects of planning -- finding out what areas you need, before actually linking them together or fleshing them out. Consider it a skeleton of sorts! You can also do this with common note-taking apps like Milanote or Obsidian too. Regular notes with a sort of "checklist" can be helpful, too.

⊹˖ ⤑ So, what areas does your headspace "need"? This is obviously up to you, but the basics include a "front room", individual houses or rooms for each alter, and a general lounging area. From here, you can go anywhere! A hotel, a campsite, a liminal space, a fantasy world, a college campus, a suburb -- all of it is entirely up to your system, and can be personalized (and changed)!

⊹˖ ⤑ Now that you know what areas you're trying to create, you can start visualizing it properly (or if you're not very fond of rough drafts, you can just skip to this step too, lol). The most common ways to make your headspace are with image dumps such as Pinterest boards, which are easily sorted and can have notes attached, or with proper building games, such as Animal Crossing, the Sims, Minecraft, etcetera depending on what kind of headspace you are looking for. Really, any worldbuilding simulator can work, so go crazy! If you're looking for fantasy maps, I can recommend Inkarnate; and if you can't find anything, you can always make a map from scratch on paper or with a drawing app.

VI. Other Useful Tips and Links!

⊹˖ ⤑ Transtrauma tips by @.neelacstraw

⊹˖ ⤑ Headspace / Wonderland tips by @.sophieinwonderland

⊹˖ ⤑ Transplural/DID/OSDD/etc Subs (Youtube)

[thebellearchives]

𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐘

~ solomon ; obey me

✧˚ · . S Y N O P S I S : staring at Solomon you realise how lucky you are to be by his side and how much more time you’d like to spend with him

‧₊˚ c o n t e n t s : gn!reader, fluff, second part to blessed although you don’t need to read it to understand this one

‧₊˚ a / n : i was having a hopeless romantic moment and remembered that sol shot i wrote for @nnnneeev (‘: blessed was centered around solomon’s thoughts so i thought it would be nice to write mc’s thoughts this time! enjoy!

You look up from the book you’re holding. Across the table, Solomon squints a little as he studies the amount of liquid in the vial before pouring it in a small cauldron. The sight of him makes you instantly forget all of the words printed in the old book he lent you. You forget your surroundings, the question you were about to ask, the experiment you had been helping him with. Your eyes glide all over him, his long fingers reach for a flower and pick out three petals. His silver eyes flicker towards the book on his right side, double checking he’s using the right amount, and his pearly hair almost hides those beautiful irises from you.

Every little thing about him captures your attention, the way his long white lashes frame his eyes as he goes back to the cauldron, the ways he slightly licks his lower lip unconsciously. If it weren’t for those little movements you’d think he’s a figment of your imagination, but it’s the way his pupils dilate slightly when he uses a little bit of fire to burn the petals that makes you think that yes, he’s real. He’s alive, he breathes the same air as you and my god, it feels like a dream. He looks like a dream.

It’s not like you’d usually forget all that you’ve been through in the devildom, but when you have the chance to admire him you do. You don’t remember how you ended up helping him with this new experiment, how you ended up being his apprentice. One day you were living your life up in the human world and the next you were staring at the immortal sorcerer who had showed you more than you would’ve ever believed real. It’s a privilege, really, to have in front of you someone as knowledgeable and passionate as him. You could hardly believe he was who he was, or the position you had found yourself in.

You hadn’t lived as much as he had, that was for sure, but it was moments like this that made it all worth it. And maybe, just maybe, he thought the same way? Maybe he was finally content with the life his immortality had brought him to? It had been a long time since he said something negative about it, you had noticed.

He calls your name then, and you jolt a little, blinking repeatedly as he snaps you out of your thoughts.

“Are you okay?” he chuckles, his bright smile has you swooning in your head “are you having trouble with the book?”

“No” you shake your head and smile back “sorry, i just kinda zoned out”

“Yeah? What were you thinking about?” he raises his brows curiously, a little teasing smile curves the corners of his lips.

You remain silent for a second, trying to decide if you want to be honest or just play it off. Until you remember some words he told you weeks ago, and you smile a little too.

“Just that you’re the best thing to have ever happened to me.”

You know you caught him off guard when his hands stop mid-air. His eyes widen a bit, and you notice the way his cheeks slowly start turning red little by little. He clears his throat, flustered, resuming the potion process.

“I’m… honoured you think that way, angel”

A warm feeling sits on your chest at his tender tone, and the blush in his cheeks makes you feel a little proud. You know he’s not as good at receiving compliments as he thinks he is, and you finally understand why he finds it so amusing to fluster you too. You knew it then: you’d never regret eternity if you could spend it by his side.

[dramas-vs-novels]

Love in the Air Special Novel Excerpt: Prapai vs Drunk Sky

** Context: After Payu stumbled home drunk one night and Rain got to see his boyfriend being cute and whiny, he became obsessed with seeing what those around him looked like drunk. So Rain conspired with their other friends in their major to get Sky to drink. However, Sky proved to just be a sleepy drunk, so Rain called Prapai to come pick him up.

After Rain made the call, it wasn’t long before Prapai walked into the pub behind the university.

But when the playful person saw his beloved boyfriend hunched over beside Rain, his sharp eyes that always sparkled in a good mood became noticeably darker. 

A large hand slipped to tighten around Sky’s shoulder, as he asked in a deep voice, “Why did he drink so much?”

Fip!

Of course, the whole table was pointing at Rain all at once. 

"Hey, are you guys selling me out like this?"

"Well, you said if we can get Sky drunk, tomorrow you'll buy us pork ribs."

When meeting the dark eyes of a dark skinned and handsome man, everyone sold their younger nong out in unison as Rain glared at them, then hurriedly returned with a flattering smile to his friend’s boyfriend.

"Just drinking alcohol, P’Pai, you don't mind, don't you?" Rain tried to make a pleading face.

Prapai looked at him for a moment before his dark expression returned to his usual good-natured smile.

"I didn't say anything. Anyway Rain, you were the one who called me." 

So, if I didn't call, would I be killed?

Rain just spoke to himself but didn't dare to ask aloud. He looked at P’Pai who lightly shook the drunk man's arm.

"Are you okay, Sky?"

The shaking caused the drunk man to slowly open his eyes, his face was flushed red, and Sky shook his head vigorously.

"No more, I want to go home." Sky mumbled then fell asleep. 

"Alright, let's go home now."

"Um."

The big man was so indulgent, he moved his hand from Sky’s shoulder to caress his hair lovingly, sharp eyes twinkling as he looked down.

Of course, it was an image that the entire table looked curiously at.

The image of a white friend slumped on the table next to them with a handsome, mature man stroking his hair on his shoulders was indeed attractive.

He is attractive in the same way as P’Phayu. They see him often, but Sky rarely brings his boyfriend to college. Most of the time Prapai parked the car and waited and then Sky would just walk to the car. He didn’t come to mingle with the classmates. Seeing Sky with his boyfriend, the prying eyes came straight from every direction, and believe me

tomorrow in the club, there will be teasing messages from seniors and guys in their class year.

He has a boyfriend who loves him so much. 

"Rain."

"Yes, P’Pai!" The person hastily answered.

Prapai took his hand away from his lover, pulled his wallet out of his trousers, then took out all the thousands of baht in banknotes that he had in it and handed it over to his boyfriend's friend. As Rain took the almost ten thousand (~$300) in cash and held it in a daze, his sharp eyes flashed, and he couldn't understand why P’Pai would give him the money.

"Today I am footing the bill. If it's not enough, call me, and I'll transfer the money to you."

"Really?"

"Why would I be joking? I am paying."

The whole table cheered in unison. 

"Oh my, Sky's boyfriend is so fucking caring." 

"We are going to another pub, that guy just paid."

"Damn, I'm jealous of Sky, I want someone like this."

"May Phi prosper, paying for us like this guarantees that in your next life you will be more handsome."

Amid the cheers of the free drinkers, Prapai just smiled, his face bright and clear, the kind of good-tempered adult that children wanted to approach even if he was a stranger.

"In exchange for that, no one can tease Sky about me picking him up."

He knew well that his boyfriend didn't like chaos, and didn't like to be the center of attention, so he gave the condition and his sharp eyes turned to make eye contact with Sig.

Giving him a smile that was as threatening as a zip-your-mouth gesture. It was a nice way to threaten his boyfriend’s classmates.

"Good, everyone agrees. I'll take Sky home now."

"Alright Phi, we'll keep our mouths shut." 

"That also includes no texting."

"Oh, P’Pai, you're really good at cornering us. Okay, trust us." Sig laughed loudly, looking at his friend's boyfriend, whom he had met so many times that he now knew Prapai’s personality.

After all the game bosses had been dealt with, Prapai turned to the sleeping man, looking like he wanted to carry him away. But rather than create a scene for his little boy, his big hand pulled Sky's arm around his neck. With some force, Sky staggered to his feet and leaned against him.

"Let's go home." 

"Um, I'm sleepy."

"You can sleep at home."

"Ugh, no, I'm going back to my dorm, so sleepy." Sky looked dumb, raising his free hand to rub his eyes to say that he's really sleepy.

"Yessir, let's go back to the dormitory." Prapai said politely, waving goodbye to the children around the table and leading his lover to walk out of the shop.

TN: After the assault on Sky in episode 13, Prapai sells his condo and buys a new and much larger one in a high-security building (Rain and Sky are hanging out at the condo's pool in the LITA special episode). This becomes his and Sky's home throughout the Special Novel (which covers around 10 years). However, when he is a student, Sky still keeps his dorm, since it's close to campus.

"When he's with his boyfriend, Sky is cute too." Behind his back, the female senior says jokingly.

Smack!

"Oh, why did you hit me?"

Sig himself smacked the senior's hands loudly and made a gesture of zipping his mouth in an annoyed manner. "Sis, don't you want free alcohol? Or are you deaf? Huh, what did P’Pai say just now? Bitch, have you forgotten? Do you have a short memory?"

"Damn it, Sig!!!"

That's all it took, and the story of a handsome boyfriend coming to pick up Sky instead turned into a war of saliva and cursing across the tables of seniors and juniors.

--------

"Sky, Sky... wake up, we're at the dorm."

Although the distance from the pub to the young boyfriend's dormitory was not that far, Sky did as he said and slept in the car. He leaned his head against the window and fell asleep immediately, not waking up even when Prapai repeated his call and shook his arm.

The sight looked so cute that Prapai smiled, and his big hand unbuckled Sky’s seatbelt and leaned over his boyfriend's seat. His face was sharp, sweeping away from the soft, fluffy hair that was unshaped, the skin of the cheeks smooth and clear like that of a baby's skin, and the long eyelashes laid on those cheeks.

No matter where he looks, Prapai finds Sky adorable.

Why, why do you always think that you look ordinary, even though you are so cute?

"Here, if you were awake, you would call me a psychopath who kept staring at you, Sky."

Mwaah!

He really couldn't help giving a big kiss to the soft cheeks before letting go of the soft skinned person.

Now, no one was around to see them, Sky wouldn't mind if he carried him up to the tower in his arms. Prapai shrugged and proceeded to carry the drunk man up to his room.

When Sky was propping himself up and sitting on the bed, Prapai had just changed from a slacks shirt to comfortable pajamas that he had left in his boyfriend's room. Sky’s white face looked sleepy, his eyes glistening from the effects of alcohol, but he didn't look as drunk as he did in the pub.

"Oh, why did you wake up? Get ready for bed, I’ll help change your clothes.”

"I'm not drunk, Phi Pai."

"Hmm." Prapai hummed in surprise, moved to stand beside the bed, and looked at the state of the drunk boy who said he was not drunk.

"Just now, I acted as if I was drunk so that Rain and the others wouldn't give me more alcohol." Sky replied with a slight slur, but Prapai could still understand him.

"I didn’t fall asleep in the pub, but I probably fell asleep in the car. P’Pai, did you carry me up upstairs?" the person said, looking up. The person who was listening couldn't help feeling that this angle was nice. Whether it's a flushed face or a view down the wide collar of the shirt, revealing beautiful and erect nipples.

"So, you mean that you pretended to be drunk."

"Well, back in high school, I drank even more than this."

"Whose boyfriend is this? So evil too, I fell for your acting completely."

"If I didn't make him believe it was real, Rain would do it again." the person who was speaking said, knowing his good friend well.

Prapai has to admit that he likes this angle… but even if Sky isn't as drunk as he pretended to be in the bar, it's still better to let the little boy rest.

"Sleepy, right? If you're sleepy, just go to sleep." 

"P’Pai."

"Yes sir?" A deep voice accepts the words, preparing to leave to find some clothes to change into.

Swipe!

"Just now, P’Pai, what were you looking at?" 

"Ugh!"

Suddenly, Sky used his hand to grab the big man's wrist and pull the big man back. And how could Prapai not gulp hard when his boyfriend deliberately fluttered his shirt around? From the first moment he stole a glance of Sky’s nipples, Sky saw him.

"Come on." The young man groaned in a low voice, wanting to cover his face with his hands and resist the temptation.

But Sky smiled. "P’Pai, you looked right? Do you want to touch them?"

He didn’t just say the words, Sky also grabbed his boyfriend's hand and moved it to hold his collarbone as he raised his head to make way for Prapai's big hand to reach into the wide collar. The power of alcohol made him force Prapai’s hand through the collar and touch his hot body.

Fip!

"Ugh." As soon as the fingertips passed the nipple, Sky let out a low moan.

That's all, Prapai now knows what it looks like when his little boyfriend drinks alcohol… he becomes a provocative cat that would almost drive him insane. 

When Prapai clearly teased him in a way that he normally wouldn’t, Sky held his breath. "Please rub, P’Pai." Sky whispered.

Prapai rubbed his hard knuckles in a circle around the base and listened to the sweet moan of his lover, then gently pinched with his fingertips. The person sitting on the bed writhed slightly. Sky’s body seemed more sensitive to touch than usual, and Prapai couldn't help but pinch and pull.

"Oh, good, good." The drunk person looks up and meets Prapai’s eyes, "Harder."

And damn it, his little one was licking his lips as their eyes met, the look in his eyes said that Sky wanted more.

Swipe!

"Phi Pai, your cock is hard." 

Sky is drunk, very drunk!

At first, Pai believed it when his boyfriend said he was pretending to be drunk. But as soon as a soft touch pressed against his pants, touched the hardened part through the fabric, and Sky laughed heartily, he understood that Sky had drunk more than he thought.

He should put Sky to bed and lull him to sleep. 

"P’Pai."

"Yes?"

"...Wanna do some licking?" 

Tum!

The evil side stomps the side of the dharma side, the evil side punches the good side in the face, and the righteous consciousness is scattered.

"Of course."

Prapai pulled his hand from the soft skin and made a move to unbutton his pants.

Pia!

"No, I want to do it." The drunk man smacked his hands hard and commanded in a stern voice before tucking his face into the crotch of his big boyfriend’s pants and rubs his hands along the part slowly.

Then, Sky pulled out his boyfriend’s son from inside his trousers. His eyes fixed on the red veined cock that had pierced his body countless times. The thin hand grasped the length, it was hot like a fire.

Mwaah!

Soft lips touch the tip before Sky swept his lips sideways from tip to root. Then the bright-colored tongue licked it, hungrily savoring the familiar taste. At the same time, the white hand stroked while the mouth was licking at the juicy tip.

"Mwaah...Mwaah...Phi Pai...Hmm."

The sight of his lover sucking on his cock just made Prapai even harder. However, Prapai only stood still with his big hand touching my head, stroking gently. Despite his heavy breathing, a low moan escaped from his throat.

But then, the white man broke away. "Hot."

Sky moaned a single word, then straightened up to take off his shirt and throw it by the bed, followed by pants and underwear. Everything was pulled all out at once, then dropped to the side and Sky was left naked. Sky returned to sit in a kneeling position facing the big cock.

The sight... is very provocative.

The white hand came back and he eagerly shoved Prapai’s cock into his mouth.

Sky's soft tongue licked around with a satisfying taste, then opened his mouth to receive most of the length. With both hands, Sky took Prapai's hand and made him grip his head, telling his lover that he could move his head back and forth as he wanted.

However, Prapai still didn’t slam his cock into Sky’s warm mouth, he almost couldn't resist. The young man just slowly brushed Sky’s messy hair and was in no hurry to release into his hot mouth cavity, which seemed to be hotter than usual.

Crack!

Sky didn't care about the sound of the bedside drawer opening, he only cared about the veined cock moving in and out of his mouth, wishing P’Pai could do more but…

"Ugh!!!" 

At that moment the clear gel ran down his buttocks until the drunk Sky groaned deep in his throat, sending a tremor that caused Prapai to moan low.

Not only did the lubricating gel run through the butt crack, but Prapai's big hand moved from Sky’s forearm to the other softly, squeezing both sides so hard that there would be faint red marks. The boy who was giving it to him groaned in his throat, his soft buttocks accidentally twitching toward him.

Fup!

Prapai himself did not let go, for a long finger was inserted deep into the sweet colored channel that only he could feel. Prapai felt the force of his thrust make Sky twitch with joy until Prapai sent his finger in all the way.

And damn it, the finger wriggled inside, Sky was insanely hot! 

"Arrgh."

Then, like a kitten turned cat would want to provoke him to the extreme, Sky swayed as if wanting more fingering until Prapai pulled his finger out and slammed it in again. Prapai felt the trembling of the boy who was still sucking on his cock for him.

The picture now is Sky crawling on the edge of the bed kneeling and watching Prapai stand beside the bed with a large hand skillfully inserting deep into the white body, making the person on the bed moan loudly; that's why it sent a trembling force into Prapai’s cock, still in Sky’s mouth until neither of the parties thought to endure anymore, their eyes glistening.

"Ah, ah, Sky? Can I enter you?" Prapai spoke in a heavy voice, his sharp eyes staring at the white hips that also thrust against his fingers.

"Mmm." A request that Sky himself sucked hard on caused a low moan from the big man.

Sky, whose face was so sweaty that his damp hair clung to it, lifted his head and gave him a sweet smile, "Yes, Pai." 

Fip!

The drunk man moved to lie on his back, immediately spread out in the middle of the bed. Two legs spread wide, revealing a naked body flushed with red all over, and a cramped and wet channel, twitching as if demanding something big to fill it.

 And it's like Sky thought he wasn’t provoking Prapai enough, because his white hands had already moved to grab his soft ass and pull the white cheeks further apart. 

"Phi Pai, hurry." 

Ping!

Prapai heard the sound of something torn apart, and that was probably his own consciousness.

He immediately rushed toward Sky, and a large hand pulled the two provocative hands above his head. Then he pinned them with one hand until they sank into the thick blanket, sending his other hand to the hole below and... inserting three fingers at once.

"Ah, ah, Phi Pai, ah!"

Prapai looked at Sky with his sweaty face shaking, wriggling beneath him, as he fumbled for something with his fingers; And it didn't take long for Sky to startle as if he had been electrocuted.

"Right there...argh."

The big one managed to pull his fingers out, and sent his big son in his place, at the moment Sky looked down.

"Ugh!" Prapai bent down and pressed a provocative kiss on the lips until they were close, almost at the same moment that he plunged into the hot tenderness... So hot that he almost came immediately.

As the person below cried out in full volume, a trembling sensation was felt along with a slight stabbing pain inside. But when Prapai first entered him, he stilled because he knew that something long would follow, and it didn’t take Prapai long to push all the way in.

Sky’s two legs split open even more.

Sky didn't know if he should be interested in the insanely hot kiss, or the stick moving in and out of his body.

It's good, it's so good that he doesn't want to stop at all.

"Phi Pai, uh... fuck me like that again, do it again... [huff] [huff] good, it’s so good."

As soon as his lips were freed from the kissing, Sky let out a loud moan, his small hip pushing up against the slamming force. His newly freed hands grasped the sheets beside his head, and clear tears welled up in his eyes, looking like they could fall at any moment.

"Do you like it?"

"Love it, but I like... P’Pai, more."

The piercing moment made Sky sway and his back channel tightened more and more, his body twitching as if waves of happiness would come crashing in at any moment.

Suddenly!

Prapai slowed down the pace, wishing to prolong this moment a little longer.

He would always give Sky anything he wanted, today the drunk one took charge. "Hey, wait Sky." Did the alcohol made the child braver than usual? Because Sky pushed the giant Prapai onto the bed, and then, the drunk man straddled him. His soft hand felt the heat of Prapai’s cock, but he wouldn't let Prapai cum.

He felt that Phi Pai should only cum inside him.

With these thoughts, Sky pushed his legs wide apart, his tantalizing face tilted up and his hips pressed down to take the hot stick into his body… to the deepest part.

"Arrgh."

Sky bit his lip vigorously, as he pulled his body up and pressed it all the way down again, again and again until the heat gathered in his lower abdomen, his heart pounding, his ears soft. His legs began to shake.

Prapai’s cock was twitching in a pulsating beat that drove them both crazy to death. 

"Mmmhpf, I can't endure anymore."

"And who...ask Phi to endure...it." Sky’s panting voice answered in a rhythm that was broken.

And that…

Swipe!

"Assume that I have already warned you." 

Phew!

"Ah! [huff] Phi Pai, Phi Pai, harder and harder."

Prapai moved forward vigorously and looked at the beautiful view of his ruddy lover, his two hands reaching behind him to grab Prapai’s knees to support himself. Sky's two legs spread wide enough for him to see the connection point where his cock was moving in and out with force. Sky’s own  beautiful piece of flesh bounced in front of him until Prapai couldn’t resist reaching out to stroke it.

"I am going to cum ...it’s coming out."

Even if Sky didn’t tell him, Prapai himself was going crazy from the twitching inside, and he knew that his lover would cum in one minute or another by the way he spead up. 

Prapai's sharp eyes looked at the sweet love hole that devoured him with even hungrier eyes, a bright tongue licking around his lips.

Pfuuush! 

Not long after, Sky’s body began to spasm and released every drop of cum he had, smearing Prapai’s his strong stomach.

As the pressure from Sky reaching the dreamland itself gripped Prapai like crazy, after just one blow, hot cum sprayed into the provocateur's body. Sky trembled, and moaned softly, eyes tightly closed, as he felt the fluid that filled his inner depths.

But don't think that everything will end there.

Prapai once again pushed the exhausted drunk onto the soft mattress, holding his white legs wide apart.

"Mmmhpf! Phi Pai, wait, ah, fuck!" Sky cried out at the top of his voice.

He felt a flash of tenderness rushing in. At the same moment, a hot tongue was licking his abused love hole, drawing out the cum that was flowing backward from his twisted waist. Clear tears streamed down the corners of his eyes, both hands gripping Prapai's thick hair tightly.

Who would have thought that P’Pai would put his tongue in that same place his own cum flowed out of?

"Ugh, huh, good."

"Lewd." 

Prapai raised his head mockingly, and that made Sky turn red. "Who exactly is lewd?"

The young man gave him a smile, a low voice whispering in a raspy voice. "So, we're both lewd to each other."

After he finished saying that, the sharp face tucked into its original position right into that still twitching hole, Prapai knew very well that the shy Sky liked when he licked his love hole right after fucking it rudely. So, having provoked him, Sky had to accept his fate tonight.

"Phi Pai, ah, it tingles."

In the silence of the night, in the dormitory of a young man named Sky. The groans echoed with the moving sound of the soft mattress, time after time, and it didn't seem to end so easily.

[goodbyeyellowbrickcloset]

Call It What You Want: The T Chain, Taylor’s Castle, and the Art of Hiding in Plain Sight

A necklace is just a necklace… unless you're Taylor Swift.

When Taylor stepped out at the Grammys, the internet zeroed in on her "T" initial leg chain, instantly taking it as a sweet, romantic nod to Travis Kelce. Then, seven days later, she wore it again—this time at the Super Bowl, the single most-watched event in the world. Same chain, different body placement, different setting, even more eyes on her.

For many, this was confirmation: The T is for Travis. Case closed. But for those who have followed Taylor’s patterns—her Easter eggs, her use of symbols, and her tendency to weave multiple truths into a single image—this was an invitation to look deeper.

And that’s exactly what I'm going to do.

Jewelry as Symbolism in Taylor’s Work

Taylor has consistently used jewelry as a storytelling device, embedding meaning into her accessories. A few of many examples: the locket in Begin Again, Paper Rings, and the evolution of friendship bracelets on the Eras Tour. In Taylor’s world, jewelry is rarely just decoration—it’s a symbol, a message, a clue. And now, with the "T" necklace, one song in particular stands out:

"I want to wear his initial on a chain 'round my neck… Not because he owns me, but 'cause he really knows me." — Call It What You Want (2017)

This lyric, taken from Reputation, was written during Taylor’s most private, hidden relationship—one she spent years shielding from public view. A relationship that was misunderstood by outsiders. A relationship she had to protect.

Sound familiar?

At face value, Call It What You Want was widely assumed to be about Joe Alwyn. But does that assumption actually hold up? Because Joe wasn’t someone Taylor needed to hide—if anything, he was an active participant in maintaining her privacy. More than that, the song itself plays like a closeting anthem—someone deeply in love but forced to frame it differently for the public.

And then there’s the phrasing: "Not because he owns me, but 'cause he really knows me."

This line implies a kind of understanding that goes beyond conventional romance. To "know" someone in this context suggests trust, protection, and shared secrecy rather than possession. It aligns with the idea of someone who understands the truth of her identity, the reality of her situation, and supports her in keeping it guarded—which would fit a long-term bearding arrangement far more than a standard love song about a boyfriend.

That distinction makes more sense when we look at this through the lens of secrecy and protection. In a public-facing relationship where one person’s identity (or truth) needs shielding, "knowing" is the ultimate form of trust. He doesn’t claim her, he guards her secret. He’s not a romantic "owner," but rather a protector of her true self.

And because I can’t keep my mouth shut about it—the song basically says Karlie like a hundred times. Karlie What You Want To... The double entendre queen just let that one totally slip by on accident with no meaning at all? (Okay, moving on. Haha.)

Any who, now, in 2025, she’s suddenly bringing this lyric back into the conversation.

A Castle of Secrets: What’s Taylor Protecting?

Taylor’s use of castle imagery has been a long-standing metaphor for power, isolation, and protection.

“I could build a castle out of all the bricks they threw at me.” (New Romantics, 2014)

"The castle crumbled overnight." (Call It What You Want, 2017)

"Castles crumbling down." (Castles Crumbling, 2023)

The Bejeweled music video: Leaving the prince, keeping the castle.

If Taylor's castle is her empire, the thing she has worked tirelessly to construct, then what is she protecting? Her privacy? Her secrets? Her true self?

By wearing the T necklace at the most public event of the year, she’s putting the symbol front and center, just like she did in Reputation—an era built on hiding, reinvention, and carefully controlling what the world sees.

She isn’t just wearing a chain, especially to two subsequent events. She’s challenging us to question what the chain actually means.

The Castle Motif & The Public vs. Private Struggle

If we accept that she’s been building a castle out of the bricks thrown at her, does wearing the “T” necklace in public symbolize that she’s still guarding something behind castle walls?

This theme isn’t new.

She’s alluded to it in New Romantics ("we built a castle out of all the bricks they threw at me")—a song with explicit queer-coded themes. She visualized it in Bejeweled, where she ghosts the prince but keeps the castle (and now, two of her Bejeweled costars were with her at the Super Bowl). And let’s not forget Castles Crumbling, released in 2023, which is explicitly about watching an empire she built slowly fall apart.

Now, with Call It What You Want re-entering the conversation, we’re once again seeing Taylor reference the struggle of maintaining privacy, perception, and protection.

The Super Bowl: The Biggest Stage, The Loudest Message

The Super Bowl was not just a moment. It was the moment. A place where she knew every move, every detail, would be dissected under the world's microscope.

So why wear the necklace here?

If she truly wanted to keep things private, she could have left it at home. But instead, she chose to re-wear it in a setting where it would be analyzed and assigned meaning.

She is telling the world exactly what she wants them to see.

To Hetlors, it’s a clear confirmation of her love for Travis. To Gaylors, it’s a calculated nod to a song about secrecy and protection. To both, it’s an invitation: Call it what you want. ;)

Is Taylor Still Telling the Same Story?

Here’s where things get interesting.

If Call It What You Want was originally about hiding a relationship, and she’s now bringing that lyric back into the public eye, does that mean she’s still navigating secrecy in her love life?

And if Travis is her endgame, why would she need to lean into lyrics about secrecy, protection, and misunderstood love?

Could it be that the real love story—the one that truly "knows" her—is still hidden behind castle walls?

Final Thoughts: Call It What You Want, But Don’t Call It Coincidence

Taylor does not do things by accident.

She knew exactly what she was doing by wearing that necklace again at the Super Bowl—just like she knew exactly what she was doing when she wrote Call It What You Want in 2017.

A necklace is never just a necklace. An initial is never just an initial. And a Taylor Swift lyric is never just about one thing.

So, go ahead. Call it what you want.

But don’t say she didn’t tell us.

[hg-aneh]

will you ever come back, or is this an indefinite hiatus/straight up dipping?

i don't know

all the i miss yous are making me want to come back but ik i would just be terrified and motionless as soon as i do

Vent-ish Rant downstairs

CW: Pedophilia, Antisemitism, Suicide, Ableism, Harassment, Bullying, all the important words except for murder basically

i want to fix things in private with the people who hurt me so things can be okay and I don't out them for being wieners

but i also want everyone to know who hurt me, yet I'm aware it's not the right choice to make. social media outrage barely leads to anything, specially where minors are concerned

hell,now that i think about it, considering the fact that they genuinely don't believe people older than them are allowed to have feelings, I don't even think talking would be the right move

it's scary, its fucking scary

fuck. the whole thing started with a person mocking the way i spoke about crowley telling me to stop babying him because i was a legal adult and shouldn't be speaking like that

i had just turned 18 and the person was only a year younger than me

like when it's gone to that point and shit is that fucked up, what can one person even do

i remember i laughed about it back then but truth be told, every single little thing I've been told and that I've listened to coming from the people who hurt me has fucking destroyed me as a person

I looked at my older Discord messages, from before this whole mess started. I was so fucking happy and shameless with my joy, now look at my sorry ass

i just.

it's crazy that i have to go around masking in social media of all places because there are people that take such offense to me being cringe that they legitimately turn into high school mean girls

it's crazy that there are people who claim I'm something i am not because they want to make me look bad in the eyes of their little circlejerking friend groups so they can feel like the hero of the story

it's crazy that empathy goes completely out of the window when an account is big, that people don't see human beings as human beings when they're behind a screen

"just log off lol" i am a lonely shut in motherfucker due to my autism (that, surprise surprise, hinders my ability to socialize), you do not understand what you're asking of me, specially while being in this country and at this point in time where I'm actively craving to kick the metaphorical bucket, at daily risk of doing so, and what basically is house arrest for my own safety and well being

(aka, avoiding to physically yeet myself into upcoming traffic or buying something to actually seal the deal)

thus far I've been accused of antisemitism, pedophilia, being too self-centered (which. bro, the reason why i talk about myself is because it's the one thing i can comment on without being scared of some random person coming to tell me "NuH uH" about it out of nowhere or worse, having their feelings hurt because I don't agree with them 100%), proshipper (which, to those people, the word implies wonderful labels such as "incest apologist" "pedophile" (again) "abuse endorser" among other things) ((sidenote, I'm on neither side on that particular discourse. my friends from both sides know this. I would elaborate on my stance if this wasn't already long enough, but it is, so I'm leaving it at an "I don't care, you do you, but please leave me out of it")), being... mean... because i blocked someone...? (this one is just. that's how the second wave of hate started btw. yeah, because i blocked someone. holy fuck), and there's probably a handful of other things I haven't seen yet. fuck it, there's probably someone out there calling me a zoophile because of my catboy au

My friends who I will not name because I don't want the high school mean girls crusade to get to them, have helped me stash out evidence for all of the accusations and bullying.

fuck, they were the ones who let me know about it on the first place, both actions for which i am eternally thankful for because it means I can defend myself properly should the occasion arise (dios no quiera)

I've already had to make a post on Xitter responding to the antisemitism and pedophilia claims, in which, for the latter, i had to reveal extremely personal information for the people who started this to give me respite if only for a while

and. ugh

What I'm trying to get at with all of this is. it's. coming back is scary. i want to but at the same time I don't think I can take this shit anymore

I wish I had people defending me like this when the harassment started because I'm a spineless little bitch who'd rather talk things out and at least be neutral with people than clap back and tell them to stop being stinky

but what's done is done and now i just gotta figure out how to fix my head before i do something stupid

this is not the full story obviously, I'm cutting off certain details as well as more personal depression stuff to not make this bible longer than it already is

fuck

TLDR: I need a hug, idk if I'm coming back, I probably will cuz I can't say no to people, and some teenagers are horrible

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

an impolite use of magic

I was rereading Malleus’s Dorm Uniform vignettes to gather information for another post! Something that stuck out to me upon the reread was how magic can be used in an insulting or disrespectful way. We often hear about how both NRC and Twisted Wonderland itself has many rules and regulations which govern magic and its uses—but it seems there is a social component too.

A quick summary of the aforementioned vignettes; they center around Malleus trying to make it to a dorm leaders meeting. After his peers fail to successfully remind him of their appointed time and day, Malleus decides it would be easier the other dorm leaders come to him rather than him going to them. He then casts a spell which transfers those he wishes to meet with (the headmaster and dorm leaders), bringing them directly to him. This is where it gets interesting, because it is Malleus using this spell on his peers that offends them.

Azul indicates that he had never been treated with such disrespect and that Malleus’s act is an insult. Vil and Leona express upset that Malleus seems to think of them as nothing more than objects, luggage, a pen, or a book. Malleus says he does not understand why everyone is mad because the same spell he used on them, they use all the time to summon their magical pens to them. Riddle clarifies: “PENS ARE OBJECTS AND WE ARE HUMAN BEINGS!!” Lastly, Idia likens the situation to being treated like a familiar that Malleus sees fit to summon at his beck and call, which is also just as irritating.

Judging by the other dorm leaders’ reactions, we can infer that most mages find it extremely impolite to have a spell which is typically used on objects cast on them/living beings. Riddle implies you must obtain consent before doing so, otherwise it violates decorum. (This aligns with the idea that magic is usually formally regulated; for example, medical mages must still get their patients’ consent to operate on them or to heal them.)

Reviewing the other lore we know of, this piece of magical manners (?) makes sense. It seems to be okay to cast object-oriented magic so long as permission is granted. For example, in Floyd’s Labwear vignettes, Adeuce are shown practicing color changing magic on an apple. Vil would use similar color changing magic to alter his and his father’s clothes when they were being hounded by the paparazzi. A similar situation would occur in Lilia’s Suitor Suit vignettes, in which Malleus uses his magic to create a suit on Lilia that perfectly matches his image. I’m sure there are many other examples you could think of; these are just the most obvious ones that come to my mind.

Where does that leave us? Well, with a bunch more questions!! Firstly, what else is considered rude use of magic? Secondly, are spells which violate control over one’s mind and body also considered transgressions of social norms??? They must be, right?? Then why was everyone so chill when discussing how Ruggie and Jamil used their UMs in the main story compared to Malleus casting his transference spell? Isn’t having someone else’s will overwrite your own equally as, if not more, degrading and dehumanizing??? (We do see the the other students upset about the magic being casted on them after the fact, but talking about the possibility of it isn’t done with horror; maybe because it was already established that doing these things is a no-no.) In which case, Ruggie and Jamil, who have UMs meant to be used on living beings anyway, is also “impolite” because their spells still violate other people’s autonomy. Why isn’t this banned by law or at least regulated?? Because it’s too hard to control through legislation alone? (That actually makes sense 💦)

What about when Deuce cast a floating spell on Ace to launch him at the chandelier in the prologue? Or the time NRC students made rude Halloween goers (Magicam Monsters) leave campus by floating them over the school gates?? Were those instances considered impolite too???? And is it more impolite to use magic against a non-mage (since they cannot defend themselves) than against a mage? They mention in Terror is Trending that there are laws against using (attack) magic on non-mages, but what about non-attacking spells and with consent like color changing magic???

What are the rules around casting magic on sentient objects like the Mirror of Darkness, is that considered rude as well since the object is “living”? Do ghosts count as “living” enough to be offended by having an object-oriented spell cast on them? Where do blessings and curses fall in this, since those can be cast without consent (Lilia on baby Silver in book 7) and can also be cast on objects (Vil with the gifted cake and pie in book 5).

I must.. know… 🤡

[necroangelz]

RARE EDITBLR SHOCKING HOT TAKES THAT WILL SHOCKINGLY SHOCK YOU!!!!!

following trends and doing what's popular is okay because it allows people to gain interactions and a bigger following by doing what's popular!! and it's also okay because trends are usually what people like, so it makes sense if someone genuinely enjoys following a trend!! people can branch out, do their own thing, and find their own style later!

actively expressing positivity, and helping or encouraging each other is what will help a community. making big rant posts, or rant accounts centered around negativity, without offering even a simple solution to fix the problems you're calling out, is not helping!!

(the other ones are under the cut. also feel free to reblog with editblr hot takes that will shockingly shock you!!)

sometimes things just... aren't a big deal. sometimes it genuinely does not matter

another person's personal business, creative decisions, etc. is not your business!

if you see someone who's not really educated on a certain topic or issue (and i mean, genuinely not educated. i don't mean people who are ignorant), the best move to take is to: patiently and kindly educate them! the worst move to take is to: yell at them and cancel them for not being as informed as you are.

people need to be careful with the words they throw around. it's not good to overuse words that have a very big weight on them, because those are important and sensitive words that shouldnt lose their meaning because people kept using them lightly. (what i mean is: people who throw around the words racist, ableist, etc. all the time even when what they're complaining about is not really either of those things.)

on the topic of words: it's important to be careful of the words you use online, and it's also important to be patient with people who worded their statements badly on accident.

don't treat every person like they're your friend. be aware of their boundaries and don't be overly comfortable with them if you don't actually know them. you are not automatically entitled to someone (or their personal business, or anything else) just because you're mutuals.

don't treat every person like they're your enemy. maybe you don't really need to be doubtful and passive aggressive towards a random person you see online.

gatekeeping kinda sucks tbh

god sometimes i find editblr so stupid like how do you create so much drama from a community that edits anime characters. how just HOW. and why.

please don't forget the other people behind the screen. the network of other people behind their screens. please.

sometimes people take the littlest problems and turn them into something HUGE even if it could all just be solved by a couple of civil conversations in dms. sometimes people take the littlest things and slap the "PROBLEMATIC!!!!!!!" label on it without even trying to understand what it is they're labeling as "PROBLEMATIC!!!"

people get followers then their ego becomes so high and they treat other people like dirt and think that their word is fucking scripture or something

oh yeah another hot take: i don't really like low contrast cluttered maximalist edits but if it's actually someone's style then I'll let it pass especially if it's good /silly