#who go for help about documentation/benefits/anything

[iteratedextras]

Okay, facts are facts.

Fact 1:

I didn't say that Argumate was a "Democratic party loyalist," implying that he would always choose the side of Democrats in every dispute. That was your label. I said:

Yet Argumate believes that, because Democrats have adopted these positions, they are not negotiable.

Fact 2:

This was stated regarding the following three positions.

"Democrats could just not try to racially discriminate against the majority when that doesn't solve racial outcome gaps."

"Democrats could just not flood the country with foreigners when that doesn't solve global poverty."

"Democrats could just not try to censor anything when that censorship is not going to be effective anyway."

That post was not intended to be a highly literal, precisely-worded legal document.

Despite that, Argumate has been offered multiple opportunities to agree that attempts at institutionalized racial discrimination against white Americans, without evidence that they will close long-term racial outcome gaps, are immoral and bad politics.

He could even have used a fork, arguing that yes, anti-white American racial discrimination is morally wrong, but it was necessary in order to mobilize black voters, or something.

Instead, he blew it off like it was absurd to think that it happened, even though, according to mainstream sources, the attempts did happen, not only with vaccines, but also with other medical care (specifically anti white American), and with farm aid (balance of revenues through non-access to program).

There is an obvious logic that if America did not have ethnic minorities - say, if the country were to be partitioned on an ethnic basis - then the ethnic majority would not be discriminated against on behalf of ethnic minorities. Alternatively, if there were fewer members of minorities, then these minorities would have less political power, and thus be less able to push for ethnic or racial discrimination against the majority.

If voters are subjected to attempts at anti-majority racial discrimination, it is in their rational self-interest to oppose immigration so as not to be racially discriminated against.

You can argue that it's immoral for them to do so, but it's hardly illogical for them to do so.

The logic flows just fine.

Your position is that Argumate is acting principled by supporting open borders.

Okay, how does promoting ethnic conflict logic by discriminating against the majority help open borders?

If Argumate is choosing to prioritize open borders as his principle, then, logically speaking, he should be willing to sacrifice left-wing racism for the benefit of open borders.

So, either...

1 - Argumate is not a left-wing racist himself, and is supporting left-wing racism because it is the position of the U.S. Democratic Party and its associated constellation of aligned organizations and individuals.

That is, he would not have settled on the position himself, but is treating it as not negotiable because Democrats support it, as I said...

2 - Argumate is a left-wing racist, and is balancing his support for left-wing racism against his support for open borders. This seems unlikely, but it's not impossible.

For example, he may have demographic anxiety about European-majority countries due to the history of colonialism - though if that's the case, then he needs to learn to get over it.

3 - Argumate is prioritizing open borders over American race relations (this one is hypothetical), and is being an edgy bullet-biting utilitarian...

...of the most obnoxious kind: a short-termist inconsequentialist version who is willing to bite bullets about hurting the outgroup, but not willing to bite bullets about ingroup taboos.

4 - Argumate has trapped himself in a figurative box in which he is unable to acknowledge that the attempts at left-wing racial discrimination, or ideological support for left-wing racial discrimination, happened, or that they matter, and nothing will get through to him no matter how mainstream the source - so he's acting like an ideological idiot.

There are technically other options, but I can't think of one that's flattering to him.

So, which is it?

Personally, I think my suggestion that he's acting like a shill is the most kind (#1), followed by the theory that he's acting like a moron (#4).

Even taking open borders as an axiom - why would this prohibit taking the long way around of creating world peace and world prosperity, such that all the borders open naturally on their own?

[ @argumate ]

I just don't think that's a good description of reality? like if "Democrats" were more empathic they would do this and that to win; Trump is one of the least empathic people alive and he won, he's constantly failing to understand the most basic things and being surprised by it and still winning, a severe lack of cognitive empathy or cognitive ability in general doesn't mean you can't win, he's the perfect example of that!

...what.

a better question might be how the entire Republican party could be hijacked by Trump, a washed up property investor / cable TV personality with no background in politics or particular knowledge or interest in the subject, why were they so incapable of recognising what the median voter wanted and giving it to them? billionaires richer than Trump, sons of ex-presidents, party operatives, each of them got completely blindsided by this incompetent!

Argumate, have you read the Dao Dejing?

[bavarianmillionaire]

speaking of work and life, i think i kind of grasped the idea when i worked before, but even if my current job can get repetitive and boring sometimes (because i have to help with paperwork and all that kind of stuff), i realized i do like to work with people and helping them. i mean, retail jobs can be kind of tiring but at the end of the day i like assisting people, especially if i can help them in a signficant way

[prettieinpink]

NEW YEAR, NEW ME

( A collab with thee lovely lele @bloombabydoll )

If you want to reinvent and rebrand yourself, or just continue to make positive improvements in 2024, the first thing is to evaluate your current year. 

EVALUATION

Reflect on how things went for you. Was there continuous growth? Were there many difficult times? Did you discover anything major about yourself and so on. Try to summarise your year in (a) paragraph(s) at least. 

Oversee your goals. Which ones you didn’t, did achieve, difficult ones, easy ones and the impacts it had on your life. 

Compare your dream girl then and now. Is your visualisation of your life currently different to the one you have now and why? 

List any major losses or successes you’ve had in your life, and how they have helped you or why it matters to you. 

This evaluation can be as detailed or simple as you like, but as long as you have a decent outline of your year. 

PREPARING & PLANNING

To prepare for 2024, you want to know what you want life to be like in 2024. Something realistic to a point, but still is a growth journey. 

Think of something that you can associate with 2024. This can be a word, a symbol, art, a song, a book, a movie, a place, or even just all of these things. When you think about your goals and your journey, this is your theme. This is something that should relate to your goals or your dream girl somehow. 

For me, I chose a word and a song. My word is growth because, for me, 2023 was a year for just being able to shed my old self which I did achieve however I just felt there wasn’t much growth as an actual person and not just in my environment. 

For my song, it is Mayflowers by Proleters and Taskrok. This song is the epitome of what I would imagine, is the most polished mindset. I would say perfect, but having a perfect mindset is near impossible. I want to have a mindset glow up because I’ve just been hard on myself lately which has caused my confidence to plummet. 

Before we get into the fun part of the preparation stage, we have to do some organisation in our life. I want you to take a look at your daily lifestyle and your habits, and be completely unashamed about this. 

Then categorise these habits into two sections; Leave and Leap. Leave habits are habits that you are leaving behind in 2023, leap habits are habits that are leaping into 2024 with you. 

Any habits that are self-destructive, addictive or generally harmful are leave habits. Beneficial habits and self-building are leaping with you into the new year.

I want you to do the same for people in your life, all environments (school, work, online etc) and anything else you believe needs to be sorted out. 

This works better if you can reason with yourself why it is a leaping or leaving habit, but don’t try to convince yourself a bad habit is good or vice versa. 

Now, I want you to document an honest paragraph about who you are right now. List your bad and good habits, your strengths and weaknesses and your behaviours. This one requires a bit more detail. 

Then, write a paragraph about who you will be in 2024, your dream girl. List her habits, lifestyle, behaviours, mindset, strengths and anything else extra. I’ll explain later but do not include materialistic desires in this your dream girl. Once again, this one also requires details. 

Stemming from those paragraphs, I want you to create specific and achievable goals. SMART goals are best, but I want to introduce you to how I set goals. 

I divide my year into quarters. For each 3 months, I have 3-5 goals for those months. Usually, it’s one from each area of my life. Then, I break down these goals. 

Questions and How They Help 

Why do I want to do this goal - For motivation and commitment. 

How it’ll benefit me - For the sake of improvement. 

How can I involve myself in this goal - To achieve your goal.  

I prefer this method because it is a lot simpler for me, as I am just a young girl and my bigger goals are more in the future in which I’ll utilise SMART goals. 

To create good goals; Make sure they align with your current values and life principles first. Try to avoid creating goals that you have just taken from the internet. Those goals just aren’t it and you most likely won’t follow through with it. 

Be specific. Don’t say you want to eat more healthily, instead say you want to include (a certain group of veggies/fruits) in your diet and reduce the intake of ( food/drink). 

E.g using eating healthy example

I want to eat healthy -> I want to start including foods that boost my immunity system and support my skin while reducing those that have the opposite effect. 

Then break down those quarterly goals into monthly, weekly and daily goals. Make these habits that you can establish in your lifestyle and have a way in which you can refer back to your progress. 

EXAMPLE GOAL BREAKDOWN

Quarterly Goal - Read 6 books.  

Monthly Goal - Finish 2 books.

Weekly Goal - Be or near half way of one book.

Daily Goal - 20 minutes of reading per day. 

AREAS TO SET GOALS IN YOUR LIFE

Academics

Spiritual

Fitness/sport

Health and wellbeing

Mental health

Personal life

Relationships

Hobbies and recreation

Now for the best part- vision boards! Collect all of your favourite images that embody your quarters or the whole year, then put them in one place where you can see them regularly!

Some ideas are a scrapbook, Pinterest boards, mood boards, playlists etc. 

Choose your theme; It can be your healthy girl era, your academic come back or whatever you want. You can have more than two btw.

Use quotes! Then actually say them in your daily life as a way to shift your mindset to reflect said quote.

Include inspirational people. It doesn't even have to be a millionaire or a very well established person, it could be your friends or someone on the internet.

Be imaginative. Your vision board doesn't have to realistic in my opinion, as the whole point of it to me is that viewing it daily and considering it to be part of your life one day allows for you to open up to those opportunities.

Materialistic Wants

I feel obligated to make this a separate section. This section is practically tangible objects that you want.

However, when choosing this said object that you want, mindfully think about why you want that thing specifically.

It doesn’t have to be meaningful, but as long as each thing on that list has got a purpose to you, and will serve you, I think it’s all good!

Conclusion

If you want, you can definitely start implementing habits before January. However, I believe that as long as you go into 2024 at least knowing who you want to be and shedding away any limiting beliefs, you’ll be fine.

Make sure to incorporate some self care rituals into your daily life as well✨

To end this, I hope everyone has a very merry Christmas! And that 2024 they will achieve to close that gap with their current selves and their dream girl selves! 💖🙏

[woso-dreamzzz]

Different II

Katie McCabe x Teen!Reader

Summary: You get your diagnosis

There's a lot of hoops to jump through to finally work out what's wrong with you.

Mam doesn't like you using those words. She doesn't like referring to it as 'what's wrong with you'. She tells you that you're perfect. Nothing is wrong with you. You're perfect the way you are.

There's nothing wrong. You're jumping through these hoops so Katie can finally understand how to help you.

You meet with the paediatrician who makes follow-up appointments for you with a psychologist and an occupational therapist.

The psychologist rules out things like dyscalculia and dyslexia. She says you don't have anxiety and depression either.

You go to the occupational therapist. He runs you through a series of tests. At first, it's big things like jumping or using a skipping rope before he moves onto the smaller things like holding a paintbrush and placing weird pegs things into small holes.

You go back to the paediatrician.

"Dyspraxia," Katie says that evening as you both sit on her bed together," That's what it's called. Dyspraxia."

"I know," You say," I was in the room with you when we got told."

She's holding the pamphlet and folder that the doctor had given you, explaining all the ins and outs of the condition.

It's nothing that you haven't experienced first-hand. You imagine all of these documents were made for parents of little kids who got diagnosed. You imagine it's more for Katie's benefit than your own.

You know what it's like to live with this condition. You know what to expect and how to adapt.

Katie is the one that will be reading those pages front to back, well into the night even though she's got training the next day.

You're off school for the week.

One of the gas taps in the science laps has started leaking so the whole school was shut down as a precaution.

You're more than happy to tag along to training, stealing one of the muffins from the dining hall to eat by yourself out on the pitch.

"So," Kim says as she sits next to you," I heard from Katie that you finally got that diagnosis."

You shrug. "It's nice to have a name for it now. I think Mam's read that folder at least ten times now. I don't know if she even got any sleep last night."

"That sounds like Katie." Kim nudges you with her knee. "How are you feeling about it?"

"It is what it is," You reply, picking at your muffin," Mam said that she's still trying to take it all in. I don't know if that's good or bad."

Katie had been resistant at first. She hadn't wanted you to get tested for anything. You were perfect the way you were and she didn't want anyone to make you think otherwise.

She was all denial.

Deny, deny, deny.

You were brutal acceptance.

There was something that made you different to the other kids. There was something that made you different to most other people you had ever met.

You don't know now what Katie thinks of your diagnosis, this new label to stick on yourself.

You don't know if it'll change how she thinks of you. If she'll think you're less perfect now that you've got something official to say that you aren't.

"Katie loves you," Kim says," That won't ever change. You're her kid."

"I'm not a kid," You grumble and Kim laughs.

"You're her teenager then," She corrects," But she does love you and all she wants is to give you the best possible life."

"Yeah but-"

"It's not going to change anything," Kim insists," Okay? Katie loves you."

You don't doubt that. You've never doubted that.

You just hope Katie doesn't doubt it either.

She paces in front of you that evening and you hold your breath.

"I've talked to your school," She says," They're working on getting you a school-issued laptop but for the time being you're allowed to bring in one of ours from home. You'll get extra time for your exams and the teachers are going to start giving you more handouts rather than making you write everything up."

"Wait...what?"

"What do you mean what?"

You frown. "Mam...I...I don't get it."

"You're getting accommodations," katie says, sitting right next to you," Because you're different to the other kids and need a bit more support. You're a smart kid. You just need to do things a little differently. We're getting you help."

"Mam, I..." You don't quite know what to say. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me," Katie says," I love you. I'm just making sure you get what you deserve."

[ancientgoddessofegypt]

astro thoughts <3 short n sweet: all about the 3rd house

3rd house suns have this formidable presence and unlike any other planet in this house, they have the ability to absorb information and bring attention to that information at any given time. their talents go unnoticed for a short period, usually someone like a teacher, sibling, or colleague usually points out this gift and then they will become more free & open to the public with this talent. they have a niche for attention seeking, i mean this in the nicest way possible. they just have an aura to them that attracts attention from others due to their words, speech, intellect and talents.

3rd house mars have a controlled temper no often then not. They use their agility to build their mental strength in whatever hobbies they like to indulge in.

3rd house mercury has a tendency to have a know it all attitude. They also have a child-like nature to their auras as they are playful beings and can be quite popular in their environment.

3rd house moons are often liked due to their carry nature to be one with their community. Could be interested in volunteering in youth centers, farms or anything that helps benefit the people around them.

3rd house venus have to experience life in their own tune. They have a beautiful story to fulfill and they should document it in whatever way they choose. The memories is what counts, after all.

3rd house pluto can be very different from the other planets in this house. theres a darkness that oozes out of their words and the mystery awaits for those to unlock the codes in the prayers they've given us through their artwork that is their song.

3rd house saturns have a tendency to be the 'older sibling' to people they meet because they have an old soul to their auras. They show up with a naturally authoritive tone and cant help themselves sometimes.

3rd house jupiters HAVE IT ALLLLLL . There very soft spoken and have a niche for communication in multiple outlets. They can use their gifts to sore to new heights with the community and learn how to utilize the community to their advantage. This type of skill is good for entrepreneurs. 3rd house jups have a tendency to know more than what they let on but they won't tell you too much about themselves and what they know so easily.

3rd house uranus individuals have unique taste and love to go out of their way to find new information that is out of the box. There ideas are usually out of this world and they have a different perspective on their environment and the people around them.

3rd house neptunes are very sweet, compassionate individuals who can sense the energy of others very swiftly. They have an urge to travel short distances because they need this time to themselves to grow and formulate an opinion over there own needs & circumstances.

[likeumeanit9497]

ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ | ᴄ.ꜱ. |

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜰɪᴠᴇ

series masterlist here

summary: Eleanor moves through the world like a shadow searching for light, and Chris burns too brightly, as if trying to outshine a buried grief. When they collide on a night filled with a mutual self-loathing, something quiet but insistent begins to grow between them — a pull that they never dare speak of, yet orbit in harmony nonetheless. Their bond deepens quickly, shaped by vulnerability, near-misses, and the ache of things left unsaid. As their lives pull and blur at the edges, they learn that what they are for one another in the moment may matter more than how it ends. 

warnings (throughout the series): smut; angst; addiction; family trauma; depression; heavy drinking; mentions of death; mentions of abuse; 18+

It was strange, how someone could so quickly become part of the fabric of your life.

A few weeks had passed since that first dinner — since he had stood in her kitchen, zesting the lemon with careful precision and pretending not to notice that she had over salted the pasta. They hadn’t talked about the substance of that night again. About how she’d leaned into him half-asleep or how he had helped her to bed and quietly let himself out with a note on her kitchen counter the next morning. She hadn’t brought it up, couldn’t bring it up, and he hadn’t either — but nothing had grown awkward. If anything, things between them had exploded into excellence.

Somehow, through weeks of seeing him nearly every day, Chris had settled into her life like a forgotten puzzle piece clicking into place. And unlike everything in her life lately, she didn’t have to mull over him. They spent practically all of their free time together now. That first grocery store trip turning into book store visits, talks about her writing turned into binge watching his YouTube videos to make him cringe, study breaks that ended in one-sided philosophical rants about everything and nothing while he just smiled and let her.

She couldn’t believe how alive he made her feel — it was the type of alive that she tried desperately to achieve every weekend through drinks and sex, yet somehow it came so easily from just one person who was a stranger not long ago.

It was only the other parts of her life — the heavier ones — that made her feel like she was slowly being pulled under.

Her undergraduate thesis was due in just a few months. Every time she opened the draft, her chest tightened. It wasn’t that she had writer’s block, it was just the creeping suspicion that maybe she wasn’t talented enough to finish something meaningful. Her advisor was incredibly vague with his feedback, her fellows seemed ten steps ahead of her, and each time she stared at the blank pages in her document, she would give up and return to writing her melodramatic poetry that seemed to now spill from her like blood.

And then there were the calls from home.

Short, tense, and always ending with her pacing the apartment and scrubbing the kitchen counters like she could erase the displaced guilt from them. Her younger brother Reid had been the one to call her last night. Their mother wasn’t doing well — “emotional” was the term her brother had used to describe it, but Eleanor knew what that was code for.

Eleanor hadn’t asked for details. She never did anymore. Not because she didn’t care, but because caring had never once proven to benefit anyone. She had put her foot down about going back weeks ago, and she was proud of that boundary. Proud that she hadn’t fallen for her mother’s manipulation. Mostly. Still, sometimes the silence that came from staying on the other side of the country felt worse than the chaos of being in Vermont ever did.

And yet, in the middle of it all — in the quiet, fierce swirl of her angst — Chris was there. Dropping by with a coffee when he knew she had been up all night working on an assignment, or texting her pictures of dogs he sees on the sidewalk. It wasn’t romantic, but it pulsed beneath her skin all the same — as steady and consistent as her heartbeat. He hadn’t kissed her. Hadn’t touched her in any way that could be interpreted as desire. But he had seen her. Seen her in a way that felt more intimate than even her deepest sexual fantasies.

And when she remembered the moments that she had made a move — the way she’d reached for him, afraid and hungry to not be alone — and the way he had turned her down both times so gently, so kindly, it didn’t sting like she thought it would. In fact, she feels as though it had healed something.

It was the first time in her life that someone had said no to her in a way that didn’t feel like rejection — only reverence. Like he wasn’t pulling away because he didn’t want her — she could see the pained look in his eye, she knew that he did — but because he cared about her too much to risk hurting her. And somehow, that had made her feel more solid in herself. Like she was someone worth being careful with.

She was thinking about all of this at once as the sky outside her apartment began its descent into lavender while she shifted at her desk and sighed — the dull ache in her lower back pulsing in quiet protest. The poem she was working on was still just a tangle of honest lines she wasn’t sure yet how to soften, or even if she should.

She had been working on it for hours, nibbling on her lower lip and rereading the lines again and again. She felt it in her stomach, mostly — the familiar tension of trying to thread the needle. The poem was somehow written about no one in particular yet everyone all together: her mother’s slurred words through clenched teeth, the urgent deadline reminders sitting unanswered in her email, the gentle refusal from a man who looked at her like she mattered.

The knock at the door startled her. Claire, who had been curled on the couch scrolling on her phone, sat up lightly. “Want me to get it?”

“It’s probably Chris,” Eleanor muttered, dragging herself to her feet and shuffling into her slippers. Her sweatshirt sleeves dangled past her fingers as she padded to the door and opened it. He was there, hoodie unzipped over a worn black t-shirt, wavy hair tousled like he had been caught in a wind tunnel. He looked at her like she was sunrise. “Hey,” He smiled.

“Hey,” She echoed, stepping aside to let him into the small foyer.

As he entered, his eyes immediately flicked to Claire, who had propped herself up on one elbow. “Oh—hi. Claire right? Sorry I didn’t know you were gonna be here.” Claire raised an eyebrow, not unfriendly, “And you’re Chris.”

He shot Eleanor an amused look. “Word’s getting around, huh?”

“She talks about you all the time,” Claire said with a friendly yet taunting tone, stretching lazily like a cat. Eleanor shot a look at her roommate, rolling her eyes. “Okay okay. Yes, Chris, this is my evil roommate-slash-personal chef-slash-mortal enemy at the moment.”

“If I didn’t cook for you, I think you’d poison yourself,” Claire remarked pointedly. Eleanor sighed, rolling her eyes with a soft smile tugging at her lips. Chris chuckled, placing his keys on the countertop as though it were instinct. “It’s nice to meet you Claire. I’ve heard great things.”

“I’m sure you have,” Claire gave him a once-over, subtle but unmistakably curious, “I bet some of your friends have plenty of things to say about me.” Eleanor groaned, knowing from past conversations with Claire that she had made her rounds with some of the guys that Chris knew. Chris seemed to know that, too, because she watched as his cheeks grew flush and his eyes dropped shyly to the floor.

“Okay okay, leave him be Claire.” Eleanor laughed as she began leading Chris over to the living room. Her roommate raised her hands in mock-surrender. “I’m just being transparent here.” Chris laughed, but something flickered in his eyes. Some sort of awareness and curiosity that Eleanor could pick up on.

Just then, Claire stood up and grabbed her water bottle. “I’m gonna head out. I have a library date with a paper that’s due in like eighteen hours. You two behave.” Eleanor rolled her eyes one last time as she watched her bubbly friend stroll to the front door, releasing a breath she hadn’t realized that she was holding once the door clicked shut behind her.

Chris had already flopped onto the couch, seemingly unbothered by the conversation that she still felt in her cheeks, limbs spread with the ease of someone who was at home. He gestured toward her messy desk, where the document containing her poem was still open. “You writing something?” He asked.

She nodded, settling back into her desk chair to continue working; hoping that Chris’s presence would benefit her productivity. He was silent for a beat, and just as she began to read through the lines for the millionth time, he spoke up again. “Let me see?” He asked, a little too casually.

“You know I don’t—”

“I know,” He cut in gently, lifting himself from the couch and taking a step closer to her, “I just…want to see something that you wrote.”

The room felt smaller suddenly, or maybe quieter. Her stomach curled like a page held over the heat, ready to burn.

“It’s not even finished,” She muttered, releasing a strained laugh, “It’s nowhere near good yet.”

“I don’t care.”

For a long moment, she stayed silent — hand on her mouse, ready to exit the document and forget the screaming part of her that wanted him to see. Her breath was shallow. It wasn’t about the quality. It was about the vulnerability. She could sleep with someone and still feel miles away. But showing someone her words? That felt like stripping out of her clothes in the freezing cold.

But something about the way he was looking at her — patient, adoring — made her hand move from the mouse.

She ushered him towards her.

He closed the gap between them and leaned towards the screen. The poem wasn’t long — no more than fifteen lines — but it felt like he spent hours reading it. She didn’t watch him. Couldn’t watch him. Instead she watched her hands, fiddling in her lap, fingers folding and unfolding as she waited for him to speak.

-

I was born with a house in my chest

all the doors locked from the inside,

the wallpaper peels in the shape of apologies

for mistakes I haven’t made but have somehow inherited

the kitchen is always too loud

voices clattering like dropped silverware

mother’s love boiling over again

scalding and sweet in the same breath

I keep trying to write exit signs

above the windows but the ink runs

every time I get close to the attic

that’s where I store the parts of me

I don’t know how to set free

Sometimes I dream that someone knocks

at the front door and I almost answer

-

He finally finished, she could feel his eyes looking down at her. “Eleanor…”

She lifted her gaze tentatively, a question on her tongue. She wanted his approval, more than she had ever wanted something before. She needed him to tell her that it was amazing, but at the same time prayed that he wouldn’t — for the desire to hear that from someone who she cared about had grown so strong over the years that she was unsure how she could survive the relief.

“You’re allowed to be brilliant, you know,” He finally said, and somehow the compliment was exactly what she needed to hear. So she laughed, but it caught in her throat. She loved that he didn’t ask what it was about. Loved that he didn’t force her to dissect the words that she barely understood herself.

And most of all, she loved that once he recognized that she couldn’t find the words to reply, he simply let her be. He took the few short steps back to the couch and laid back down as though nothing had happened. Pulled out his phone and began scrolling in silence as if to wordlessly encourage her to keep going; keep working at the thing he knew she loved so much — more than anything.

And so she did. She worked long past the time that the sun fully set, past Claire’s flustered return from the library, past Chris’s failed attempt at making her something to eat, and past his smooth recovery of ordering a pizza. It wasn’t until her eyes began burning from staring, unblinking at her screen, until her fingers began to ache from furiously typing out her pain, that she called it a night.

And when she did, Chris offered her a pleased smile as she lifted herself from her chair and joined him on the couch; grabbing a slice of pizza and devouring it as if it was her last meal. He let her settle in, and grabbed the remote to begin finding a movie for them to watch. Only once she finished her first slice and reached for a second did he finally speak.

“You’re gonna do amazing things, El.”

His words, and the sincerity within them, filled her with a sense of pride so strong, so foreign, that she felt like she could cry. He didn’t say them the way that most people did — with detachment or pity or some vague encouragement meant to help her. He said it like he meant it with every fibre of his being.

Swallowing hard, she grabbed his soda can and brought it to her lips to keep her emotions at bay before finally turning to face him. When she did, she saw it in his eyes. They were soft, but there was something burning just beneath them. Not desire, not want, but need for something. For her. Her heart fluttered, terrified. Terrified because they weren’t meant to be looking at each other like that. Not since that night. And yet, she was sure she was looking at him in the exact same way.

He didn’t lean in, but he didn’t move away either. And for one strange, still moment, his eyes dropped to her lips and she was sure he was going to kiss them. She didn’t do anything — didn’t reach for him, didn’t even blink — but her breath caught in her throat like it knew something she didn’t yet.

Then, just as quickly as they had glazed over, his eyes sharpened and the sound of him clearing his throat broke the trance he had just put her in. His hand moved gently toward her face, and as her eyes fluttered shut in confusion, he used his thumb to wipe a smudge of pizza grease from her chin.

“Sorry,” He murmured softly, though she was unsure what exactly he was apologizing for. Still, her smile was a seam barely stitched. “It’s okay.”

They sat quietly after that, the television murmuring some mindless show that Chris had selected. He leaned back against the cushions, though she didn’t move. Her body vibrated from that close call, and the vision of the way he looked at her just moments before, as though she was the only thing he wanted, stayed clear in her mind. The absence of his gaze was tangible, though she couldn’t quite tell if she was relieved or disappointed.

She looked down at the half-empty pizza box in front of them, then back up at him — this strange, gentle man who somehow saw more of her than he was supposed to. Who didn’t flinch when she was complicated. Who left her feeling more like a person and less like a performance.

That was all it was. The way he looked at her, that was just him being impressed by seeing her poem. He wasn’t infatuated with her, he was simply proud of her talent. She just wasn’t used to seeing a person so unapologetically moved by something she created, that’s why she froze when he looked at her like that.

That’s what she told herself, at least, as she settled into the couch. She let her head fall against the cushion, let her feet rest on his lap. Her eyes grew heavy with exhaustion, but it was a satisfying exhaustion directly linked to her commitment to her studies. She let out a long breath, feeling the beginning of sleep as it overtook her.

“Stay as long as you want,” She muttered, her voice quiet. And through her drooping eyelids she watched as he nodded his head, as if he had already planned to.

͏𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 ❤︎ ͏

tags: @slvtf0rchr1s

a/n: love u guys 4 eva <33

[luvissues]

mm thinking about simon riley and the conflict of wanting to keep reminders of you with him but also wanting to make sure nobody knows about you!!

Simon is a man who- admittedly- can’t help the small trickle of pride that fills him whenever he looks down at the band around his finger.

He loves the damn thing. Not as much as he loves seeing the matching one on your own hand, but that’s different.

He loves it, really. He does. But he just can’t bring himself to wear it when he’s out on the field.

He won’t deny that part of the problem is paranoia. That paranoia has long since crept through the cracks of his skull, lingered in his brain. He knows nobody will see it, but there’s never a guarantee.

He’s seen what soldiers will do to break someone down. Hell, he’s seen what his own team has done- how easily someone he loves could be dragged into his work. That’s the very last thing he wants.

Out of his team, it’s blatantly clear that Simon has the most anonymity. But he’s not stupid. He knows how far technology can go, how deep people will dig. He knows exactly how someone could chip and chip away at the barriers he’s put up, only to send his whole operation crumbling down.

He’s torn. At night, when he peels his gloves off for just that moment. Just long enough to feel the metal that sits there, warmed by the heat of his skin. That’s the moment when he wants more than anything to keep it on.

But he won’t allow himself to be so careless. How many times has he seen the same brassy silver and gold on a hostage’s finger? How many lovers were dragged into the dirty work of the muppets they married, all because of a simple ring?

It’s the same thing with dog tags. I’d doubt Simon would have them in the first place- it’s too much information, too easily accessible- but if he did, he’d never let you wear them. Why don’t they just put a flashing target sign over your head if he’s going to be so obvious?

He’s made too many enemies for himself. Too many men who would be eager to see his name around your neck, to use you as leverage. He would never forgive himself.

And photos? Oh, how he wishes. He wants to be like Johnny, who pulls on the ragged corners tucked into his pocket whenever he gets homesick. Like Gaz, who only has to tug off his hat to be reminded of who he’s going back to when everything’s said and done. But he’s not stupid, he’s not careless. Those are the two things he’ll never allow himself to be.

The poor man has wiped every photo of himself off of every document that he could. Why would you be any different? Don’t you know how easy it would be for someone to track you down, if only they got a glimpse of your face?

How many times has he watched Laswell pull the same information? How often does Price look over her shoulder, thinking about how he could use it to their benefit?

No ring, no tags. No photos. The Sergeants call him delusional- they’ve seen how fiercely he will fight for his own team, and they know he would do the same for you, only in tenfold.

His Captain might understand. They both have years of experience, have both born witness to the horrors people are willing to commit; the horrors that they themselves have watched unfold at their own hands.

And God forbid Simon ever gets a tattoo that gives you away. I imagine he has some already, and while he might get one in reminder of you, it would be something only he would understand. It almost makes him angry at the men who do have such tattoos, the senselessness of it all. He damn near gives Johnny a concussion from now hard he smacks him across the back of the head when the Sergeant brings it up as a drunk suggestion.

It’s not to say Simon isn’t proud of you. There’s nothing in the world he adores more, is there? He’d chose the title of your husband over the title of Lieutenant any day… as long as it’s off the field.

Think of it as him protecting you. That’s what it boils down to, at the end of it all. His need to keep you safe, to keep you far away from his work, even if he is a little paranoid. Everything he does, it’s done for you. <3

“Yer’ Sergeant is a dumb bastard, Price.”

“You didn’t have to hit him so hard, ya’ muppet, the man can hardly walk straight.”

“Just tryna’ set him right. If he gets that tattoo, I’m gonna cut it off of ‘im myself.”

“Fine, but I’m sure as hell not writing the report on it.”

“The missus will thank me for it. You know she will.”

[biblical-chronicles]

Plastered

_________________________________________

where Liam needs some help to find the courage on Valentine's Day.

_________________________________________

Liam sat slumped on his couch, flicking through channels on the TV without really watching anything. His mind kept circling back to you, the thought of confessing, the pressure building with every tick of the clock. It wasn’t like he’d never felt this way before—he’d been through the motions with women before—but this... this felt different. And fuck, he wasn’t ready for that. What if she doesn't feel the same? What if I make a tit of meself?

He sighed heavily and glanced at the clock again. It was mid-afternoon, and you’d mentioned you were staying in tonight. That was his window. He had a plan, he just had to make sure it went well. Nothing too grand—just a simple, honest conversation. Yeah, right. Simple.

Just as he was stewing in his thoughts, the door buzzer rang.

Liam groaned, his fingers drumming on the arm of the couch. “What now?” he muttered to himself, dragging his feet over to the door.

When he opened it, Noel breezed in, cigarette already hanging from his lips. “Alright, dickhead,” Noel greeted with his usual smirk, not waiting for an invitation. “Got them papers for you. You know, the ones you’ve probably forgotten about 'cause you’ve been too busy pacing around this dump of a flat like a fucking madman.”

Liam rolled his eyes, stepping aside. “I’m not pacing around, I’m thinkin’.”

“Wrong, you're not capable of that.” Noel threw himself onto the couch, throwing the documents onto the little coffee table.

“I’ll get to 'em later. I’ve got stuff to deal with today.”

Noel raised an eyebrow, glancing over at Liam. “Stuff? Like what? You finally gonna man up and tell her you fancy her, or what?”

Liam shot him a glare, but Noel was already grinning like he knew something Liam didn’t. "Nah," Liam muttered, scratching his head. "Not like that. Just... yeah. You know. Think I’m gonna swing by hers later, innit."

“Swing by?” Noel chuckled, eyes narrowing. “So you’re just gonna turn up at her gaff, all confident, all ‘Hey, I fancy ya’, and expect it to go smoothly, yeah?”

Liam frowned. “What’s wrong with that?”

Noel laughed harder now. “Oh, you poor bastard. You’ve never been able to ask the bird out to lunch without getting all twitchy, let alone doin’ some grand confession on bloody Valentine’s Day.”

Liam bit his lip, already feeling the nerves creeping in. “I can do it, alright?”

Noel grinned, clearly loving how worked up Liam was getting. “You’re sure she’s even stayin’ in? She could be off out, mate. You’ve not even checked, have ya?”

Liam stared at him blankly. “I don’t—” he stammered, caught off guard. He hadn’t thought about that. “I mean… She said she was stayin’ in. Why would she suddenly change her plans?”

Noel’s smirk only grew wider. “Oh, who knows? Maybe someone actually asked her out. You ever think of that, Liam? She's not reserved for ya so plesse stop just stewin’ in here like a prat.”

Liam let out a grunt, clearly starting to get a bit frustrated. “I don’t need you to make me feel worse, alright?”

Noel laughed again, shaking his head as he stood up to leave. “Nah, mate. I’m just tellin’ ya how it is. But listen,” he added, turning back toward the door, “You really have to do this, she won't wait around forever for your nervous arse.”

Liam glared at him, his jaw clenching. “I’m not nervous.”

“Yeah, right,” Noel shot back, the playful glint still in his eyes. “You look like you'd benefit from a shot"

Liam blinked, his brain slowly processing what Noel had just said.

Noel grinned, mischief still dancing in his eyes. “Anyway, you better sort yourself out, yeah? You’ve got a date to ruin.” With that, he strolled out of the flat.

Liam stood there, processing it all for a second before returning to looking at the telly again, procrastinating any further planning.

Yet, as the evening crept closer, Liam’s nerves ramped up like mad. He had been fine, totally fine, but now, with the sun dipping below the horizon, the weight of what he was about to do hit him like a fucking train. His knee bounced restlessly as he sat on the couch, staring at the clock.

6:12 PM.

Shit. Less than an hour until he was meant to head over.

He rubbed a hand over his face, exhaling sharply. His palms were clammy, his heart was hammering. He needed to get his shit together. What had Noel said? Right—have a shot. Just a little something to take the edge off. Sounded like solid advice.

So he did.

And then, because his stomach was still flipping and his brain was still screaming, he had another.

And then another.

And then… well, after the fourth one, things were starting to feel much easier.

By the time he glanced back at the clock, it was 6:54 PM.

His stomach dropped. “Oh, fuck.”

Scrambling to his feet, he nearly tripped over the coffee table as he grabbed his coat. He had no gift, no grand gesture, nothing. He had spent so much time spiraling over how to tell you that he’d forgotten to actually prepare anything. In a last-minute stroke of genius, he dashed outside, spotting a small patch of flowers behind someone's fence but close enough to reach.

“Ah, perfect.” he mumbled to himself, crouching down. They weren’t exactly the finest bouquet in the world, but they’d do. He yanked a few out of the ground, dirt and all, and—after wiping his hands sort of clean on his jeans—set off towards your place, swaying slightly as he walked.

When you opened the door, the sight that greeted you was nothing short of chaotic.

Liam stood there, swaying slightly, looking like he’d just been through something. His hair was sticking up in odd directions, his pupils were blown wide, and he smelled of booze. In his grip—barely—was a small, pathetic bundle of flowers, some of them missing petals, others still clinging to their roots.

You just stared at him for a second. “Liam?”

He opened his mouth, as if he had some grand declaration prepared, something sweeping and romantic, but all that came out was a strangled, “Oh, fuck, love, I’m so sorry.”

Your brows lifted. “For what?”

“For—” He gestured wildly at himself, the flowers, the whole tragic state of affairs he’d brought to your doorstep. “This! This whole—this whole fucking disaster! This is not how this was supposed to go, at all.”

Your lips twitched, but you managed to keep a straight face. “And how was it supposed to go?”

Liam let out a long, weary sigh, like he was personally disappointed in himself. “Well, not like this, obviously.” He rubbed a hand down his face before leveling you with a surprisingly serious look. “I had a plan, y’know.”

You just barely bit back a smile. “Did you now?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, swaying slightly with the movement. “I was gonna knock on your door all cool, say summat dead smooth, summat that’d make ya weak in the knees—‘cause let’s be real, I make ya weak in the knees, yeah?”

You let out a snort, and he pointed at you like he’d caught you in some kind of admission.

“Exactly,” he said. “But then—” He suddenly looked deeply betrayed. “Then Noel—”

He flung his arms out dramatically, like the mere mention of his brother’s name was enough to conjure bad luck. “He’s sittin’ in me flat, takin’ the piss, right? And I’m tellin’ him about tonight, proper serious, and he’s just laughin’ at me! Like I’m some kind of—I dunno—some kinda mug! And then he’s like, ‘Oh, just have a shot, mate,’ and I thought—yeah, alright, good shout.”

Your amusement only grew as he barreled forward with his confession.

“But then I kept havin’ ‘em,” Liam went on, his voice increasing in volume like he’d just realized the depth of his own mistake. “And then suddenly it’s, like, ten to seven, and I’m leggin’ it down the road, tryna find ya some flowers, and now—now—I’m here, stood in front of ya, absolutely fuckin’ wrecked, makin’ a right fool of meself.”

You couldn’t help it anymore—you laughed. Loudly.

Liam immediately froze, his face falling like you’d just punched him in the gut.

“Oh, fuck,” he muttered, looking properly crushed. His eyes darted everywhere but you, like he was already planning his escape.

Before he could spiral any further, you reached out, grabbing the front of his coat and tugging him closer.

“Oh, Liam,” you murmured, still grinning. “C’mere.”

His eyes flickered to yours, completely dazed, and then, just as quickly, he stumbled forward, colliding into you. His nose brushed against yours as you pressed your lips to his, and for a second, he didn’t react—almost like his brain couldn’t process what was happening. But then, all at once, his hands gripped onto your waist, pulling you closer, like he had to make sure this was real. He kissed you back with everything he had, and somewhere in the midst of it, the sad little bouquet in his hands slipped from his fingers, landing on the doorstep with a soft thud.

When you finally pulled away, he blinked at you, still swaying slightly.

“… Does that mean you’ll be me Valentine?” he asked, his voice soft, full of hesitant hope.

You tucked a stray strand of hair behind his ear, smiling. “Of course, Liam.”

His face lit up, but then his brows furrowed, like something important had just dawned on him. “Wait—not just today, yeah? I mean it. I wanna be with ya—properly. Not just for Valentine’s, not just for now. Like… forever, or summat.”

You let out a snort. “Yeah, Liam, I’m not stupid. I know.”

That was all he needed. His lips crashed onto yours again, more urgent this time, like he was making up for all the time he’d wasted. His hands roamed—your waist, your back, anywhere he could get a grip—until finally, he pulled away with a sharp inhale.

You pressed your forehead against his, smiling as he blinked at you, still swaying slightly. His breath warm against your lips, and he looked just so pleased with himself.

You huffed a small laugh, brushing your fingers over his cheek. “Come on, let’s get you inside, yeah? Get you some water before you fall over.”

Liam’s brows furrowed like he was debating whether he should be offended or grateful. Eventually, he settled on grinning, throwing an arm around you as you guided him inside. “Yeah, alright, but only ‘cause ya asked so nicely.”

_________________________________________

happy valentines day to all you lot, hope you liked it !!

noel valentine's story here x

[maxiemumdamage]

Although far from the most heinous of villains, there’s one Avatar: the Last Airbender character whom I still harbor a very generous amount of hatred for:

King Kuei, aka the ruler of Ba Sing Se, aka the Earth King who somehow managed not to know his kingdom had been under siege by a foreign power for over a century.

And I know most people, the narrative included, forgive him for his ignorance due to the fact it was Long Feng’s conspiracy that made it so. But for a man in King Kuei’s position, I think the ignorance is a cruelty and abuse of power, even if not at the same level as Long Feng, the Dai Li and their conspiracy.

Because in order for Kuei not to know about the war, he had to not knos about anything that was happening in his kingdom. To not know about the war, he also had to not know about the refugees pouring into his kingdom. He had to therefore be clueless about things like housing, food, water, citizenship/immigration, foreign policy, and trade. He had to not know anything about the general standard of living of his people, in addition to their safety — and we see that in action when Team Avatar takes him outside the palace!

And MAYBE Kuei was just tricked by faked documents, if you really wanna give him the benefit of the doubt — maybe he just read the summary reports saying all was well and believed them, or made whatever allocations his advisors suggested without looking at the data personally or confirming through a secondary source. But Long Feng made it sound more like the king just runs museums and cultural preservation programs and delegates all the rest. Which just circles back to him not looking closely enough at what’s happening to actually see it! That is not good leadership.

And if you wanna talk about what Kuei does after he learns the truth about his loyal advisor and tries to take charge himself…uh.

He immediately spills the invasion plan and all its details to Azula, which led to the eclipse invasion failing. (Yes, she was disguised as an allied warrior, but she was still a total stranger and a random teenager from an arguably foreign island. A good leader wouldn’t have told her everything he did, even with good reason to think her trustworthy. And sure, Azula might’ve learned of the invasion regardless, but Kuei definitely made the situation worse.)

Kuei does nothing to help with the modified solar eclipse invasion, either — he tells Team Avatar to do what they want and fucks off to travel the world with his pet for a few months. Maybe acceptable behavior from an influencer, but not from a king whose country has been invaded and colonized by a hostile, genocidal nation. Kuei completely abandoned his people during their worst hour, which he helped bring about! Instead of trying to make up for his failure, he shrugs it off and moves on, then comes back and retakes his throne once someone else has done all the work of getting rid of those pesky invaders.

Kuei doesn’t show up when the White Lotus retakes Ba Sing Se — he doesn’t even know it’s happening, which speaks to his apathy towards the well-being of his people. The invaders are finally being kicked out, the war is about to end, and King Kuei has no idea. If word hadn’t reached him after the war ended, would someone else have been installed as king? Frankly, I think it might’ve been for the best, had they not needed to make it seem like the Earth Kingdom was going back to normal.

Like, at the end of the day, Jeong-Jeong, Piandao, and Iroh — all three Fire Nation deserters, and one a former enemy general who once pillaged the city and a BROTHER OF THE CURRENT FIRE LORD — did more to help Ba Sing Se than its king. And you can’t even blame the White Lotus for not making an effort to find and include Kuei, because he would’ve just been dead weight for them. He wouldn’t actually know enough about the infrastructure to be an asset, and it’s not like his face is known by the people enough for him to grant morale to local earthbenders. For all its tragic Kuei had no clue his city was being reclaimed, he would’ve been unable to do anything if he knew. Because Iroh knew more about Kuei’s city than he did!

And then in the comics, once he’s back on the throne he immediately almost restarts the war. The HUNDRED YEAR WAR that ended like a MONTH ago. Because Zuko says “hey actually these Fire Nation colonies existed for almost a century, it’ll be hard to tear them apart without hurting a ton of people and splitting up families. let them stay while we sort things out.” Kuei then goes to war (he mobilized his army and everything) because Zuko the teenage Firelord does one (1) mean and slightly concerning thing that.

(I will freely admit: Zuko was also at fault, he did not handle that situation well by any means. And even if his conclusions were reasonable, he sure expressed them in a way that would made the nation they just stopped targeting the Earth Kingdom in war very tetchy. But Kuei doesn’t know enough about the war or Zuko or his own kingdom to actually know why this is bad! It’s not a trauma response nor fear for the well-being of his people, but a desire to prove his own worth that motivates Kuei to send armed forces to remove the Fire Nation colonies. He’s certainly not absolved for how fast he pulled the trigger and wanted to resume war, just to feel like he was doing something.)

Zuko’s bad choices were rooted in concern for his people and having visited the colonies himself and seen how difficult the situation was. Kuei just wanted to appease his ego by feeling strong and decisive even when it meant making an uninformed decision. “Well I was useless before so I gotta make sure I take swift actions now, even if that means being uninformed and using liberal violence. Soldiers move out!”

WHY DID HE HAVE TO GO BACK ON THE THRONE. CAN’T BUMI OR TOPH TAKE OVER RULING BA SING SE???

The fact most of Kuei’s sins are born of ignorance doesn’t absolve him, because a person in his position should never be ignorant to that extent. And Kuei knows it — that’s why he’s defensive, but also ashamed, when Team Avatar proves the existence of the war to him. Kuei has all the resources and tools to educate himself. He just…chooses not to.

The fact he makes one good decision when he trusts team Avatar over Long Feng ALSO falls short when you remember how long it took them to get there and how little that actually achieved. He goes right back to ignoring them after the war once they stop telling him what he wants to hear, anyway!

(Plus, if they’d NOT gone to him for help, the Invasion on the Day of Black Sun might have succeeded. The water tribe soldiers, mechanists, and earthbenders not from Ba Sing Se were the forces they actually ended up with — they didn’t need Kuei’s armies to get as far as the palace! — and they could’ve won if they’d had the element of surprise.)

Anyway. Kuei was useless and given his position, had no right to be. What happened to even noblesse oblige? All those privileges he earned from the labor of his people, and he couldn’t actually be bothered to know a damn thing about their lives. Much less protect them.

So yeah. King Kuei hate mail time.

For some reason extra incompetent people inserting themselves into political offices and then ignoring the well-being of their country makes me extra mad lately.

[mindfulstudyquest]

❥﹒♡﹒☕﹒ 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝗲𝘅𝗽𝗲𝗰𝘁 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝗲𝗿𝗮𝘀𝗺𝘂𝘀 pros and cons

a girl asked me to talk about my erasmus experience in the questions box and she inspired me to make this post. if you have posts to request don't be shy! unfortunately i don't have all the time i would like to uptade but i will try to keep up.

erasmus is a student mobility program of the european union that allows a european student to attend a school in another EU country for a period of time legally recognized by their home institution.

it is a temporary experience with many benefits, enabling students to engage with different cultures and customs. due to its non-permanent nature, i believe it is one of the most beautiful opportunities for a student to feel completely free to explore and understand themselves, to figure out what they want and do not want from their life and educational path.

but let’s start by discussing its downsides. unfortunately, not everything is perfect.

𝟭. paperwork ( 📄 )

hey, i know, guys, i'm not the first or the only one to say this, but the paperwork for erasmus is a pain in the ass. it's not only extremely complicated, but universities (mine for sure, but i know it's a common experience) provide zero help in filling out the documentation. especially if you're not familiar with bureaucracy (and at 20 it’s normal not to be familiar with these things), it can seem like an insurmountable mountain. but if i, someone who doesn’t understand anything about this stuff, managed to get through it, you can do it too. typically, the documentation includes:

various information like ID, health card, and the IBAN of an account in your name (or joint name) where they will deposit the scholarship.

learning agreement, another plague sent from hell because you usually have to deal with two professors, one from your university and one from the host university, who clearly would prefer to mop the sea than help you fill out your learning agreement.

financial agreement for the scholarship, which has specific deadlines by which you need to submit documents (usually IBAN, learning agreement, and acceptance letter from the host university). fun fact: i almost missed this and didn’t receive the scholarship because these deadlines were buried deep in my university’s website (don’t be like me, make sure to be informed well about the financial agreement or you risk being left without money).

the best advice i can give you is to find someone from your university who has already done the erasmus where you’re supposed to go and ask them for some information. they, having gone through it, know what mistakes to avoid and what’s best to do. the offices often assume too many things and give you insufficient and hasty information.

𝟮. finding an accomodation ( 🏡 )

this too, another pain in the ass. it depends on the city, but here in madrid, finding a place to live has been a nightmare (and indeed, i've significantly overshot the budget i had set for rent). you have various options for accommodation:

student dormitories these solutions may seem the best at first glance, but they aren’t always. here in madrid, the fees for the dormitories at my campus cost more than my current rent, plus having only one kitchen for an entire floor is not exactly optimal comfort, especially if, like me, you cook a lot.

apartment studio/flat this is definitely the most comfortable option, but also the most expensive. a studio outside the center in big cities can cost up to €1000 a month. however, if you can afford it and prefer privacy, then go for it. at first, living alone might not be easy, especially if it’s your first time away from family, but you’ll get through it quickly.

room in an apartment this can be the best or the worst option depending on your luck because having flatmates means cohabitation, which is not always pleasant. if you're going in erasmus with someone you know, it might be optimal to share an apartment or take two rooms in a larger flat. personally, i rented a room in an apartment with three other people (two bathrooms and a kitchen), and i couldn’t be happier; i love my flatmates, and we quickly became friends. we cook together, go out together, spend entire evenings chatting and joking and they helped me a lot overcoming the first crisis. i realize, though, that i am an exception, so choose your accommodation carefully.

in short, consider your choice based on 3 factors:

proximity to the university/public transport links i study outside of madrid, almost an hour by bus from my place, but i live practically across from the bus stop, so it’s not a problem at all.

centrality/connection to the city center you're in erasmus to experience the city!

comfort of the place such as private bathroom (very hard to find but not impossible), utensils, AC, appliances (we have a dishwasher at home, and i assure you it saves our lives everytime).

𝟯. homesickness ( 🤧 )

yes, everyone feels homesick, even the most stoic. but guarantee you, you'll get through it. first of all erasmus, fortunately or unfortunately, isn’t forever. it’s a 6 month/1 year experience that is incredibly valuable for your personal growth, at the end of this period of time, you'll be back home. secondly, you can always stay in touch with friends and family in the age of technology. those who truly love you will support you in this project and do everything they can to make you feel less lonely. lastly, during erasmus, you’ll make many amazing friendships and connections that you otherwise would never have the chance to make.

𝟰. language barrier ( 🦜 )

i can’t say much about this, i've never studied spanish in my life, but, since i'm italian, i have no trouble following the lessons and understanding people when they speak, even though i'm still not able to express myself well in this new language. however, by living in another country, you’ll learn the language much faster and more effectively than with any academic course. in just a month, i already feel much more comfortable with spanish, and everyday i learn new things.

and of course, i could talk for hours about the benefits of erasmus, but i might save my praises for a post i'll write later, towards the end of this experience.

i can tell you that in just a month here, a whole new world has opened up for me. not only is the thrill of being in another city, in another country, an electrifying flow of continuous energy, but i’ve also realized things about myself that i might have ignored before.

i have much more confidence in myself; i feel freer, less afraid of making mistakes. it’s true, i’m far from my family and friends, but this also means i’m far from all those eyes under which i always try to appear perfect.

i crave to see and learn, i'm eager to discover new things, and this drives me to do things i probably wouldn’t do in my home country, to appreciate their flavor and indulge in the uncertainty of "maybe i’ll like this".

for the first time, i’m experiencing a new country without the rose-tinted filter of a short vacation. i’ve never felt as rich and full of gratitude as i do now, and i hope this is a feeling every student can experience.

so, erasmus, yes or no? absolutely yes.

i’d love to keep updating you on my experience abroad. what do you think? would you like that? let me know in the comments! star kisses ⭐

[frostbitemutt]

May I interest you in a writing request? Yandere Kaz and Ocelot fighting over the same darling. :)

That's all. No pressure or anything.

Yandere! Kazuhira Miller VS Yandere! Revolver Ocelot (MGSV)

Warnings: Gender neutral darling, spoilers for mgsv, Obsession, stalking, murder, military propaganda/cult, cult tactics and behaviors, abuse of power, power imbalance, brainwashing, sadism, torture, stealing, perverted behavior, mature themes, manipulation, non-consensual photo and video taking, boundary pushing, unwanted touching and advances

❆ Oh boy. Anyone in this franchise is a handful. These two pitted each other? You're not in for a fun time buddy. Better hope you can deflect before things come to ahead in the final chapter.

❆ I mean the obvious way to go here is that you're more than likely a diamond dog. Hell ya could be a higher up/leaders like them if ya been around long enough. Say if you knew the big man since the 60s or back during peacewalker with Kaz. Although for now to keep things simple we'll say you're a lower ranking dog. Easier for them to prey on.

❆ Ocelot the Tactical instructor, Kaz the Co-Exectuive of diamond dogs. Despite Kaz's seemingly higher position, only one of them is let in on the phony big boss. Ocelot. Ocelots a big ol yes men and boot-licker to John. Kaz isn't too much different, but he'll say no and disagree. So he's not not let into the plan at first.. until Ocelot tells him. He knows Kaz would figure out the quickest something was wrong.

❆ They have a mutual respect for one another. If not a love-hate situation-ship in their little evil polycule. They'll agree on some things about the dearest soilder. Not wanting to deflect, escape, get maimed, or die. Otherwise they're clawing at each like cats n dogs on who gets to be on your metaphorical (or literal) lap.

❆ The try to sway you to either of their sides. Ocelot tries to convince Venom to put you in his Unit that he commands. Kaz insists you'd be more helpful on the support or base development units that he is heavily involved in. Especially depending on your stats. Despite where you may end up at, the other constantly attempting to pull you away from the other via orders.

❆ Ocelot hovers around you. Monitoring, watching, stalking like the very cat he's named himself after. He invades your space just enough to be uncomfortable.. but able to be excused. Correcting the way you hold a gun, coming up behind you to ask you something, or just needing to reach over to you grab something while getting awfully close. He likes seeing you jump. Not to mention trying to test how receptive you are to his presence. If he's gonna be your lover you should get used to him touching you right?

❆ Kaz on the otherhand is a bit more respectful about your space. He's mellowed out from being the manwhore he was during Peacwalker to say the least. He'll try to lean on you a lot, just slightly, or akwardly put his leg up against yours. It's just his vision. It's bright out. He promises. A hand on your shoulder or arm if he can. If you look uncomfortable he'll lay off. He believes that'll be an advantage against Ocelot.

❆ Camreas are no doubt planted in your room. Sorry. Along with photos being taken. No they don't cut out when you're changing. Ocelot and Kaz are both gonna keep that footage for their own.. "reasons" although Ocelot is a bit less inclined to do so than Kaz. Ocelot dosen't mind having such resources incase the rare blue moon when he feels like it though.

❆ Ocelot is more for discipline and control. Kaz is more for swaying you with bonding and a nice appearance. Although in reality neither is really a good option. Ocelot collects every bit of information he can, likes, dislikes, reactions, mindset. Kaz collects more of the same, although he may get access to medical documents. For the most part they will share this information if they believe if will benefit your health. Yet they're still selfish. Keeping some bits to themselves.

❆ Ocelot also likes to watch you as you snooze. It's not invasive if you don't know right? It is. He may even be bold enough to cuddle up against you if you're heavy enough sleeper or if he sedated you beforehand. Kaz might peek his head into your room while you sleep and rummage through your things, but he ain't gonna sit there and watch. Much as he may adore you he has other things to do.

❆ They're constantly using their power to pull you one way or another. To push the envelope. They're your higher-ups. You should listen to your higher ups should you? What are you, a dissenter? A spy? Is your faith wavering? Or will you heel to their calls like a good diamond dog? Ocelot espically likes to use this card. Not to mention the wavering threat that comes with it. He'd hate to put you in the brig. But he won't have to do that, right?

❆ Ocelot will not doubt relish if he gets a reason to torture or interagate you. He's a sadist. He'll be oh so sickening nice too. Gently prodding you with the needle of truth serum. Talking quietly just for you to hear just how much he cares about you. He dosen't want to do this to you! His ass is lying he does. If you give in now it'll be easier for both of you. Then he won't have to play bad cop anymore, yeah? All while his hand lightly wanders over your body. Caresses that feel almost like a ghost.

❆ Kaz is there to scoop you up as soon as Ocelot is done. Cooing sweet words. Prying for the same information as him. Just with a nice tone. Despite this his nails still dig into you just a bit too tight. His voice a certain seething tone to it. Even if you were being defiant.. Ocelot was simply too cruel. If you were defying Ocelot specifically and not them as a whole.. he encourages it in a way.

❆ Kaz in the case of defiance will use guilt tripping. He's just asking you to do this little thing. He's met eye to eye on you with so many things when he dosen't need to. Would you prefer Ocelots company? Do you want him to turn you over to Ocelot to punish you as he sees fit? He's your higher up. You should still listen to him to an extent. Yet he still tries to play it as if you two are equal all the other times.

❆ He also dosen't like others tending to you medically absolutely needed. If you're sick mildly Injured he'll throw a fit if someone besides him or venom cares for you. He's the one with the most medical experience! What if the others messed it up? Trying to use your state of vulnerability to "bond". To instill trust. You better so much quicker when he takes care of you don't you? Not to mention giving you food he cooked up especially for you.

❆ Now, if another soilder tries to shoot their shot with you. The two will stop bickering, shake hands, and get their ass. They hate the idea of some random soilder having your heart rather than one of them. Even if they don't want it to be the other.

❆ Kaz is snapping at them for any slight infraction. Citing any reason he can for the brig. If not betrayal. Ocelot will happily drag that said soilder while they're kicking and screaming to one of his integration rooms. Far from others. Kaz joining soon after. Bones are broken, cuts are given, and a point is made loud and clear. A brain entirely altered. If that dosen't work and the soilder persists or tries to snitch. Well.. that soilder was "sent out on a mission" they never came back from.

❆ When things come to ahead and things start going to shit. You're now stuck in the middle of a very rickety and unstable bridge. Kaz or Ocelot. Do you stay Ocelot and Outer Heaven? Or do you leave with Kaz. Each beckoning to you desperately. Whispering dirty lies and truths about the other.

❆ Isn't Kaz pushy? He's just using you as a replacement for John. Don't you know his history of sleeping around? You think he'll stay loyal to you? What about his yucky temper? You want to deal with that?.. But Ocelot has hurt you hasn't he? Bossed you around? Threatened you with the brig? He just wants power.

❆ Ultimately its up to you to pick your poison soilder.

[derangedanomaly]

hi! Could I have some Bad Sanses headcannons with a new member (crush or future s/o) who has the power to control time but doesn't think that power is a big deal?

Like, he thinks it's not a big deal because he only knows how to see the future and that's it (because the power isn't trained yet)

(please make reader male or gender neutral)

Sorry if it's confusing, english is not my first language :(

Nah, you don't have to worry. Your English is fine! I understood you very well ^^

I'll do male reader, since there's not many for my guys out there! But as I know myself, I think that it won't be mentioned much, so I guess that you can still take it as gender neutral?

Enjoy!

Masterlist

Bad Sanses with a time manipulator reader (male)

(Nightmare, Killer, Dust, Horror, Error)

Nightmare:

The only thing he's thinking right now, is; This dude can benefit me so much!!

Yeah... You just got yourself in a trap 😀

He doesn't listen to you when you tell him how you think your power is useless. He's literally ordering the others to train you while you're yapping.. wants to see your powers immediately.

He's kinda- disappointed when he finds out that you can only see the future. (Mf should've listened when you were telling him that 🙄)

These thoughts immediately disappear when he figures out that you can literally tell them the exact time the Star Sanses attack them.

Overall.. really manipulative.. constantly manipulates you into doing so many things for them- and they're not for the greater good either. 💀

Killer:

Mf does NOT believe you. (At first I mean)

You get bored of him asking you to prove your powers so fast 💀

"If you can read the future, then tell me what I'm going to do next!!" Immediately followed by your answer: "You're gonna call me a liar." "I KNEW IT!! YOU LIAR!!" "......" "You just had luck.." mhm. Yeah, sure. Luck.

His mouth literally dropped when he finds out that you in fact wasn't lying..

Now that he knows your powers are legit... Oh boy... He's gonna abuse the shit out of that..

And I don't mean it in the same way as the way Nightmare's using you, no! More like a.... Goofy way??

Bro's gonna be asking you about the next time he falls down the stairs, so he'll be prepared for that and not fall down. (He still will fall down.)

He will feel sympathy for you after Nightmare starts using you.. but he can do nothing with that. So... He cuddles you! (As a way of comfort) Only if you want to of course.

Dust:

Oh this nerd... He'll absolutely believe you! Like- the first time you tell them, he believes you. Wants to know more, actually.

He's probably the one you get close to the first, because he talks to you so often. I mean- they never really met anyone like you before!

He wants to document every single thing about you. Huh? Why are you asking him why your favorite food is important for this? That's only for him to know! (The dude is just a *closeted* hopeless romantic)

Wants to help you with the fact you can only see the future.

Visibly rolls his eyes whenever Nightmare is ordering you around.

Literally cannot stand the fact Nightmare is just using you, but he can't do anything about it... I mean, who in their right mind would argue with NIGHTMARE? Not him. That's for sure. But he will offer you comfort.

Horror:

Doesn't really care about your powers, but he does find it interesting.

Doesn't ask you as much questions as Dust does, but he does ask a bit about it.

He's probably the second one you get close to, and that's mainly because he sticks to Dust a lot, so he's basically a part of y'all's conversations. (Except he doesn't say anything 💀)

He doesn't want to use you for your powers, simply because it doesn't benefit him. (And he also doesn't think it's right.)

He WILL be pretty mad that Nightmare's using you. Will try to fight with Nightmare over this, but Dust stops him. (We all know that that wouldn't end good.)

From now on, Horror will always stick by your side, ready to defend you or help you out whenever! (Congratulations)

Error:

He actually thinks that your powers are dope.

He also wants to see your powers in action, similar to Nightmare, but he doesn't want to use you.

You might be asking, why? Well, his ego is bigger than the fucking sky, so he comes to the conclusion that he doesn't need for you to tell him the future, because he.."can predict Ink's move", he's also technically not part of Nightmare's team, it's basically just a part-time for him. (Whenever he's needed, or he's bored🤷‍♀️).

He's probably the last one, (not counting Nightmare), you get closer to. It's mainly because you don't see him often though.

He still lives in the anti-void, and spends a lot of time there, that's why. But you're not on bad terms either. (Don't have any reason to.. yet.)

Not much to say, really. You two don't interact much. But you can change that 😏

[tojiscumdumpster]

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN - TOJI

⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀✧ summary page

Zen’in Chiaki. Sixty-three. Location is in Okinawa, Japan… Reason for kill–tampering of legal documents within the company…

  The more I read this shit, it doesn’t make sense to me. A Zen’in being targeted for fucking with documents? I have no fear when it comes to those fuckers, but I don’t think anyone would be reckless enough to get themselves involved with that family. 

 My time there had me witnessing the most gruesome shit whenever someone tried to interfere with their affairs, so anyone without guts would even try to take them out. Now I’m reading a contract with a sixty-three-year-old woman that’s on their shitlist for tampering? 

 Something’s not adding up, especially when the woman appears to be from that family.

 Zen’in Chiaki? That name doesn’t ring a bell.  Don’t remember my old man having any aunts, and all his siblings are men. Could she be a cousin? A wife? I have no fucking clue. But I need a more detailed reason why she’s being targeted to kill because I just don’t go around sniping old ladies for the hell of it. 

  Is this why Kong was up my ass about taking this contract? Because the person is a Zen’in? Does he think I want to take revenge on those fuckers who abused me and the ones who witnessed it? Maybe if I didn’t have Megumi, I’d find pleasure in this. However, I can’t take that risk and do anything that could possibly fall back on my kid. 

 Just when I was about to close the folder and call Kong to reject this contract, something in her file grabs my attention. 

 Target had relations with several members of the Zen'in Family. 

 “What the fuck…” That’s what this is? They want to kill some broad they all slept with? So she’s definitely someone’s mistress. My guess is she’s not actually from the family and was married into, and probably slept around for money.

 Maybe now they’re not giving her what she wants, she went into tampering, they found out, and now they want to wipe her out.

 That’s the only thing that makes sense. Some shit Kong got me into, but still–why does he want me to take this?  

 Pulling out my burner phone from my locked desk draw, I speed dial Kong to get a clear answer. Because at this point, I’m tired of the vague crap.

 “Fucking pick up. I know you’re not asleep…” I mutter to myself. Most likely the fucker is up and smoking cigarettes yet the line is still ringing. “You got to me kidd–”

 “Oh, fuck yes.” Did this… motherfucker really answer the phone while he’s balls deep in some woman? “Fushiguro–calling so late. Did you miss me?”

 “You couldn’t get your dick together before answering the phone?”

 He deeply sighs followed with a chuckle. “Can’t have my lover waiting for me.”

 “Cut the crap. It’s about the file. Get the girl out the room or go somewhere private you can talk,” I say firmly. 

 “Ah, so you’ve finally read it. You’re going to take it. Yeah?” 

 “Why’d you give me this shit? Who’s Chiaki Zen’in?” 

 I hear him light a cigarette and take a puff. “That’s not my family, Fushiguro. How the hell am I supposed to know?”

 “Because you gave this to me! Now I definitely feel like you’re trying to set me up.” 

 “Fushiguro, get your fucking head out your ass and use your brain for once. What benefit do I get for setting you up?”

 I shrug. “Money.”

 “Like I don’t have plenty. It actually hurts that you don’t trust me as Megumi’s godfather.” Again with the banter because I know Kong loves messing with me. 

 “Fuck off.”

 “And plus, I value my life. You’re a crazy son of a bitch. I know my place.”

 At least he knows. 

 He continues, “Look—I think you should take the contract. It might help you get the answers you’re looking for. You don’t have to kill the lady, but maybe she knows something about what actually happened to your wife.”

 I arched my brow. “And how would she know?”  

 “That’s why you fucking ask, genius. If Naoya overheard them talk, there’s a possibility she could’ve as well,” he says. “If she was a mistress, then they might’ve talked around her without realizing she’s listening. Take the contract, go find her, and get answers.”

 Kong does have a point. 

 Since that Zen’in fuck insinuated my old man had something to do with my late wife’s death, I’ve been losing sleep to do further digging, and have Kong do the same. 

 Asking my father or uncle directly won’t do anything because I know they’ll just lie. And quite frankly, if I ever see them again, I’d probably just beat them both to a pulp. So maybe seeing who this Chiaki Zen’in woman is would help me get the answers I need.

  The convenience of this contract is that it’s due in three months—around the time I’m flying to Tokyo. What an interesting fucking trip this will be.

 “Alright. I’ll take it.”

three weeks later…

 “Y/N, where… are… we?”

  Alright—when Y/N said to take the day off because we’re going on a date, never did I expect for her to take us to a Formula One track race. Especially to a race that I thought was fucking sold out. 

 And the craziness thing is—I never mentioned wanting to go, so how did she know? 

 Is this the fluffy shit they talk about in relationships? Remembering what your partner enjoys to make them happy? Because when it comes to Y/N, I’ll do whatever just to see that pretty smile on her face. 

 Just don’t expect that to happen to me, though. Simply ‘cuz I’ve never experienced it. But since I made Y/N mine a little over a month ago, she’s gotten me used to certain shit. 

 Dates. Skin to skin contact in bed. Fucking self care routine that involves this retinol concoction I still don’t understand but visibly see the difference it does to my face. 

 And to top it off, making videos together where we dress up in coordinating outfits before we go out. All of this shit is foreign to me, yet…it feels damn good. 

 For the first time in a while, life isn’t too bad. Me and Megs are pretty decent, and now my relationship with Y/N. . . I have nothing to complain about. 

 “We’re at a Formula One—” Before she got the chance to respond, I crashed my lips against her to show my fucking appreciation. Her stiff nature shows she’s shocked at my sudden kiss, but she immediately relaxes in my embrace and the moment I grip her ass. 

 Those soft moans always taste the sweetest when we’re out in public, and Y/N must’ve forgot I have a exhibitionism kink. 

 “I know where we’re at, Y/N.” I look into her eyes, hoping my own conveys how I feel at this moment. With how she’s smiling at me, I’m sure it does. 

 She’s so fucking pretty. Don’t think I’ll ever get over that. 

 “Easy, big guy. I see the look in your eyes,” she teases. “We have the whole day together.”

 I kiss her cheek before grabbing her hand to walk toward the stadium. “You’re wearing that tiny ass skirt around me and expect me to behave?”

 “Toji—I could be wearing a cheese suit and you’d still want to fuck me.”

 I throw my head back and chuckle. “Glad you know me, sweets.” 

 She nods with a smile. “I do.”

 “How’d you get these tickets anyways? Tried to get them myself and they fucking sold out in a minute.”

 “Your girl has some connections. Meaning, I know a guy.”

 I raise a brown in concern. “Hope it’s not any exes.”

 “No, baby,” she says through a giggle. “One of my students' older brothers, who I happened to be acquainted with, gave me his tickets.”

 “Willingly?”

 “You should know how charming I could be, Mr. Fushiguro.”

 I shake my head. “Trust me. I know.”

 She wraps her arms around mine and leans against me. “I’m excited, TJ. I’ve never been to a Formula One race before.”

 “They’re pretty cool. Just here to bet some money, though.”

 “Should I be surprised?”

 “Nope,” I responded with an exaggerated pop sound. 

 “Well, I’ll just be the pretty girlfriend who asks a thousand questions.”

 Being with Y/N is starting to feel like second nature to me. Her presence is so damn addicting and I know I’ll never grow tired of it. 

 Almost like if I keep spending time with her, these memories I’ve been having lately will start making sense. The shit is weird, and I don’t believe in anything… but I do believe in Y/N. I believe she’s it for me. And say if we don’t work out. . . Well, I’ll keep trying until we do. 

  Please, don’t leave me. That voice keeps echoing in my head, and I can’t help but think it’s Y/N. 

 I won’t, I respond internally. 

 “. . . Baby, you’re okay?” A soft, concerned voice overlaps my thoughts, reminding me I’m with Y/N.

 “Y-Yeah, my bad, sweets.”

 “You’ve been doing a lot of zoning out lately,” she says, brows slightly dipping. “You sure everything’s okay?”

 “Positive,” I lied, not wanting her to worry. 

 She looks like she doesn’t believe me, but decides to drop it, which I’m grateful for. “Okay,” she replies with a soft smile. 

 Eventually we found our seats just before the race and I find myself itching to place bets with the fuckers around me. Never can pass up an opportunity to make extra cash. 

 “. . . it’s round one of the Formula One season of . . .” The commentator blares throughout the stadium with intros of each racer and all the other shit they say before the race begins. 

 Courtesy of whoever this person gave Y/N the tickets, our seats are pretty damn good. But, of course, the best view of the stadium is my girl sitting next to me. 

 The best view of the stadium is my girl sitting next to me. Wow, how fucking corny did that sound? I’ve been turning into an all time sap ever since I’ve seen Y/N for the first time. It’s not like I give a damn. 

 Told myself I want to be better for her because quite frankly, a fucker like me doesn’t deserve a girl like Y/N. And it’s not like I’m trying to convince myself of it either, but I’m known to be the Zen’in fuck up. The unlovable child. The accident. . . 

 Why don’t you understand that I love you?

 Every time I even think for a second about all the fucked up shit my old man said to me, that familiar voice pops up in my mind. 

 However, I didn’t get a chance to think about it any longer. 

 Y/N’s plush lips were on mine, rewarding me with a kiss that brought me back to reality and rushed arousal to my cock. But still…it managed to be soft…longing…reassuring. . . The kiss put words in my mouth that felt weird for me to say. 

 It’s like she knew I was thinking about some shit that had me internally spiraling, though, rather than asking, she gave me a kiss that dispel any negative thoughts lingering inside of me. 

 “Hi, big guy.” Her voice is filled with tenderness, barely above a whisper when she looks at me with those eyes that say it’s okay. 

 Something I probably need to hear. 

 “So, how much do you usually bet on these games?” she asked, changing the topic from where my mind was. 

 “Depends, but Formula One races are usually filled with rich fuckers, so I bid higher.” 

 “. . . And this is the track we’re racing on today—fifty-eight laps. Three point two-eight miles per lap. . .”

 Thirty minutes later, and the race starts. But honestly, I barely gave a damn about the race or betting since I was more invested in listening to Y/N’s commentary. 

 If it wasn’t her being concerned about the drivers crashing into the mountain of tires, it was her telling me how hot I’d look in the driver’s gear. 

 Her words. Not mine. 

 Whenever I was into the race, yelling at the track like a maniac because I eventually placed bets, she was right there with me—shouting like she placed bets. 

 Where I was serious, she took it as race shit talking. 

 Couldn’t believe this, but I was actually having… fun. 

 Fun. 

 Fuck, that’s another word that feels weird to say. 

 It’s the truth, though. And it’s all because of Y/N. 

 Kind of wish the kid was here with us, but I haven’t grown balls big enough to tell him I’m with his reading teacher. Seeing how my mood is with  her, if I had him here, too, I knew I would be the cheesiest motherfucker in the world. 

 “Toji, be honest,” she starts, dragging me from my thoughts. “Do you actually ever win your bets?”

 “Fuck no.” And something about my answer had Y/N bursting into a fit of laughter. “Damn, didn’t know me losing money was that funny to you.” I acted like I was offended, but she knows I wasn’t. 

 “Because the driver we're rooting for is losing, baby.” 

 I shrugged. “Nothing wrong with an underdog.”

 “It is when you’re not profiting off the underdog in question,” she argues.

 “Fair point.”

 She sighs before standing up. “All this yelling has me needing the restroom, and I’m hungry. I’ll be right back.” She gets up, purposely stopping to where her ass levels with my face, and I know the exact shit she’s trying to pull. 

 “Okay, Y/N,” I simply say. 

 She giggles. “You want anything, babe?”

 I shook my head, but pulled out cash to give to Y/N before slapping her ass, earning a yelp and pervert, from her while watching her walk away. 

 Definitely fucking her when we get back home. 

 This day couldn’t get any better. From the bullshit at work to this contract Kong finally got me to sign weeks ago, I didn’t realize how much I needed a day of me and Y/N. 

 Seeing how our conversations have been lately, she probably knew something was up with me, which technically, there is. 

 Just haven’t had the chance to tell her. 

 Don’t know if I will.  

 I mean, how exactly do I fucking bring up my family possibly had something to do with my wife’s death, and I’m taking a contract to find out more? Not happening. 

 Can’t have her thinking I’m full of shit and been lying to her the entire time. Can’t risk Y/N freaking out and potentially calling the cops. Can’t risk…

 Losing her. 

 It’ll be a cold day in hell before I let that happen. Yeah, I talk down on myself and say how much I don’t deserve Y/N. But I’m a selfish son of a bitch. 

 Even when I know I shouldn’t have something (or in this case, someone) I’ll take it anyway. That’s just who I am. 

 A buzzing sound in my pocket gets on my fucking nerves and several missed calls and text messages from Kong. 

 

And besides, I didn’t feel the damn vibration until now. 

“What the…”  

 Here’s here. Here’s here. 

 Here’s here. Here’s here.

 Here’s here. Here’s here.

 I waste no time speed dialing Kong and maneuvering out the crowd to somewhere I can what the fuck is he talking about. 

 “Finally—”

 “Speak,” I cut him off after he answered the phone. “Now.” 

 “I’m at the bar near the condo I’m renting and some geezer comes up to me and tells me to give you his regards,” Kong explains. “I’m wondering who the fuck is he. Then, I realized he reminds me of someone. You, Fushiguro.”

 This has to  be some kind of sick twisted joke. 

 The kind I don’t find fucking funny. 

 Twenty years. I have seen that bastard in over twenty years, and somehow he reappears in the city I came to start a new life in. Of all places. 

 The first person that comes to mind is that Zen’in brat that was adamant about having to do shit when that family, and now all of a sudden my old man is fucking here. That little shit is his eyes. I knew I couldn’t trust that motherfucker for a reason. 

 Pissed isn’t even the word to describe how I feel. I’m furious. My blood burns with rage and at this moment, if anyone even looks at me wrong, I’ll bash their face in picturing my old man. 

 You unlovable child. 

 Your mother should’ve aborted you. 

 Go in the street and die. Like I care. 

 You’re useless. You’re useless. You’re useless. You’re useless. You’re useless. You’re useless. You’re useless. You’re useless. You’re useless. You’re useless. You’re— 

 “Fushiguro!” Kong yells. “Are you fucking listening?”

 No. 

 And it’s not like I can right now. 

 “Text me what you said. I have to go.” I hang up and throw my phone back in my pocket. I need to go. Now. I need to find—

 “Y/N.” 

 Shit, my head was so far up my ass, I forgot she went to the bathroom and concession stand. 

 I peek over to find our empty seats, leaving me to believe Y/N hasn’t come back yet. So my next move was to rush near the restrooms, asking different women who’s coming out did they see a beautiful, dark skin woman with the additional description I gave them.

 Some answered no, and others were too busy ogling like I would a fuck about their attention. 

 The concession stands were next, and it’s not helping that there’s damn near hundreds of them on this floor alone. 

 I know Y/N is fine. Probably just waiting in line to buy food. It’s just… I can’t be here right now. My lungs have grown tighter and it’s been harder to breathe since Kong told me about my old man being here. 

 I’m forty-two. It’s been a little over two decades. Shouldn’t be triggered by this shit anymore. I’ve forgotten. I don’t care. But that little weak boy inside of me is dripping out and reminding me that I’m still… not okay. 

 Maybe ‘cuz I’m worried about everything going good in my life now turning to complete shit the minute a Zen’in shows up around me. Specifically those two drunk fucks—my old man and his brother. 

 Y/N, where are you? 

 I’ve passed at least six concession stands already and still haven’t found her. Dammit, she probably got lost. I know this is her first time at a Formula One race, so she—

 Don’t fuck with me. 

 Don’t fuck with me. 

 Anger blurs my vision when I look across to see Y/N and my fucking old man—talking. Talking like they’re old friends. 

 My strides are long and hard while pushing through the crowd, not caring about the glares, scoffs, or complaints from the people I’m pushing out my way. All I care about is getting to Y/N and getting her the hell away from my old man. 

 As I close in on them, I’m able to hear their conversation. 

 “Are you single by chance? I have a son that you would be fantastic with,” he says. 

 She nervously giggles, but not in the way she usually does… she’s uncomfortable. “Oh, uhm, no. I have a boyfriend—”

 “Y/N!” I shout, causing her to turn around and look at me. The moment we lock eyes, relief floods her expression, confirming my observation of her being uncomfortable. 

 “Toji—” I pull her behind me to level with my father and grab him by his suit collar.

 Of course he’s the same coward as before because the moment I snatched him up, three fuckers dressed in black ran toward us to protect him, but he held his hand up to stop them in their tracks. 

 “What the fuck are you doing here?” I asked through gritted teeth. I’m itching to kill him, and had it not been for us being in public or Y/N, no questions would’ve been asked.

 “My dear son. Is this how you greet your father after twenty years?” The mockery and condescending tone is his voice makes me want to rip out his fucking throat. “Also, I see you lack manners as usual. Did you not see me talking to this beautiful young woman?”

 “You have shit to talk about with her.”

 His brows raised in realization. “Overprotective over a woman? Is this your significant partner?”

 “Y–”

 “No,” I answered, cutting her off and instantly regretting it. I don’t need to look at Y/N to know confusion fills her face. “Answer my fucking question.”

 “Just making friendly conversation, is all. Am I not allowed to do that?”

 “I-”

 “Fushiguro,” Y/N interrupts. She catches me off guard by using my last name, but I guess it’s only fair since I denied she was my girlfriend. “Let’s go.”

 The silent plea in her eyes makes me wish I never allowed this piece shit to pull a reaction out of me. ‘Cuz by the looks of it, Y/N is scared… and it’s all because of me. 

 You’re worthless. Don’t ever come near this estate again. 

 These damn thoughts in my head will do everything in their power to skin me alive. I’ll just ignore them… like I always do. 

 Last thing I want, which she probably already does now, is to regret being mine. So I took her hand, ignored that fucker and his condescending voice, and rushed through the crowd again to get the hell out of here. 

 “Toji,” Y/N calls me, sounding worried. “Toji, wait. Was that your—”

 “Old man.” 

 My fucking old man. 

PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

[seagulltheseawing]

Oh boy, where do I even start...?

I don't know if you'll believe me, but I understand a lot of what you're feeling right now. Sure, we may have had different struggles, but there was a point in my life where I also felt like nobody would care if I just... stopped existing. Life was so painful and I felt like all my existence caused was more pain and turmoil. I didn't think I was going to get anywhere, nor did I think I'd ever add benefit to anyone's life... but time has proven me so very wrong. I've come to see just how much of an impact I've been able to have on the lives around me, with little things I didn't even realize I was doing or saying. And I hope you'll see in time too just how much your art alone soothes and inspires people. And that's not to mention anyone else who might be dealing with similar struggles as you, whether it be dealing with NPD, abuse in the home, making an impactful mistake, or anything else. Because I can promise you right now that you are not the only one who struggles with these things. And I can also promise that you sharing your story has so much more impact than you could ever imagine! Please, don't let pain and shame take away the impact you have. Living, while painful, can be surprisingly worth it. I know it may not seem that way right now, but I promise, knowing from experience, that things will change in time. There will be a silver lining after the storm. I can't tell you how long the storm will last, but I can promise that there are people out there who will be eager to help you through it, myself included. So please, don't give up.

And if you're able to access therapy, I very highly recommend it! Especially once you find that one therapist who you're able to make a good connection with... it makes a whole world of difference!

I will say, I too still struggle with occasional PTSD nightmares, so I'm not going to promise that those will go away completely... although I have been told there is medication that can help with that. And I know surrounding yourself with the right people also helps a lot.

I hope this brings you some hope and maybe even a little peace.

My mind is starting to blank on what to say, so I'll finish this ask off by offering some comfort images...

You are loved and cared for, more than you'll ever know. God bless you.

I never really believed anyone who said my life could get better, especially after that wof drama

i carry far too much guilt and shame it’s comprehensible. Everything i’ve done will never leave me. I get stuck in this cycle of wishing i could go back and stop my self, but then i freak out and think i need to do something terribly wrong to make people hate me again, and then id have a reason to end my self. I don’t want to make anything personal anymore. But it’s just apart of me to hate people it seems, to look at the world as some sort of “being the best” that causes me to easily snap at people i don’t like, because i think that it will make me worthless and nobody would love anybody like me. I want people to know how fucking sorry i am but i have too much fear and guilt to want to talk about it. Everything went to shit, that night everything went down, i panicked and got drunk to the point i couldn’t even walk. I had people telling me to kill my self, i had people saying that i didn’t deserve to be alive, that my parents should have prevented me from ever existing. I had no senses, so all i did was just threaten to kill my self and reply incomprehensibly to the people in my comment section. and when i could, i tried to tell the truth but nobody believed me. Nobody believed me when i tried to say i never made that document, i never harassed that fucking dogloverlikesdoge person or whatever her name is, i never sent my friends out to go attack anyone, instead i was harassed, all i was and all i ever will be is just the fucked up asshole who quote ‘deserve to stay in a mental hospital’. Now people say i just send gore to people, that im a threat, that im too violent to be in spaces. I’ve given up on relationships friendship or partner wise. I either can’t be loved or i can’t love. I will never live a happy life, i’ll never be a good person. I’ll never be happy.

i recognised my mistake with her, the main person involved. I don’t want to say the name, because i don’t want people to make misconceptions either. But i will never ever forgive dogloverlikesdoge / moon for telling people i lied about my issues, allowed her mods to be actively ableist, and to tell that shit to the internet like she had the right to be involved. i don’t care if she sees this or whatever. I don’t have a problem name dropping her if she’s happy to go telling hundreds if not thousands of people about how much i just love to abuse my partners and that i was a liar

[qwertyprophecy]

hi !! i recently played storyseeker and really loved it !! i was curious about how you went about designing the story for it ?? was it hard to keep track of all the moving narrative parts ?? how did you decide where to reveal what info ?? hope you dont mind me asking -- i really love your art !! have a great day !!

I'm glad you enjoyed Storyseeker! Old as it may be, out of everything I've made it's still the game I'd most like to make a spiritual successor to.

Answers to narrative design questions after the cut:

It's funny, Storyseeker's design process was so organic that realistically it should've turned into a right mess. But just as organically it lead into design principles that made organising the story a breeze, honestly.

What I mean by organic: As touched upon in this reply regarding worldbuilding, the story kept writing itself as long as I kept asking it questions, so I just let it do its thing. The player is meant to experience the narrative in much the same way, with me imposing as little control over them as possible while they travel as they please and narrate to themselves the story of what they see.

It sounds freeform and terribly unstructured, but I established a principle of design that aims to help the player connect the dots instead of feeling lost in a cacophony of random details. While making the game I called them "paths": routes the player is likely to take or subtly guided to take, that connect together related parts of the narrative. Visually some are literal paths or roads, but they could be anything that the player might follow. Footprints, streams of bubbles, the line of sight of an NPC, the sight of something irregular peeking at the edge of the screen...

A path presents both a question and a direction to go look for the answer. Oftentimes, the exact questions I was asking myself when building the world piece by piece. Where does this road lead? Where are these weasels swimming to (or, approaching from the opposite direction, where did they come from)? What dislodged itself from this hole in the ice and where did it go? What kind of a body are these giant toes connected to? Ie., to answer your question of when to reveal information: when the player asks for the information by moving towards where it's revealed, whether on purpose or unknowingly.

If the player follows the direction they must end up on another path because good answers beget more questions. The single most important design document I had was a piece of scrap paper with a rough sketch of the map and a whole lot of coloured lines flowing across it to mark the paths I was prepping for the player. (Lines, not arrows, since I couldn't predict which direction they'd be traveled in.) By visualising them I tried to make sure none of them stopped abruptly or looped in a circle, and that all the places of interest were covered.

(The biggest exception to this design is of course the dead end of a room that is the game's final area: the temple interior that can only be found by completionists. That's why it "completes" the game by being a narrative dead end, too.)

I genuinely didn't even plan it this way on purpose, but it turns out that it really helps keep track of a narrative when you make a game where webs of cause and consequence are all visually illustrated on a literal map. :D If you're the type of person who benefits from visually organising things, I don't see why you couldn't draw abstracted maps of your narrative even if it's not so visual in nature.

I know I definitely need to do more of that! Just last week I rescued my current project's dialogue rewrite with visualisation and arrow doodles. It had grown into an overwhelming mess of unplanned splitting and rejoining branches and microreactivity, so to have any chance of looking at it without inviting a migraine, I closed the document and instead mapped the whole script into a single page outline of what each conversation is supposed to convey to the player. It's so much easier for me to think about the shape of the story when I can see it in one glance!

[thatmittengirl2009]

I can’t, I have to vent about this because fuck capitalism!!! And fuck companies that take advantage of the disabled community.

There a company called Lug. Not sure if anyone’s heard of them but they make bags.

Now these bags are supposed to be amazing for organization, travel, you name it. They’ve expanded into different accessories. Prices range from $10 to over $180.

While it’s not a luxury brand like Gucci or that selling it for $1000s, it’s still pricey to the everyday consumer. In fact, when you look up their stuff, they sell on QVC a lot and many complain why the price keeps going up.

Well, I just had to clear one of their shipments today. It was for these totes that are created and produced in none other than China. And I was shocked when they claimed a tariff of 9817.00.60. Why? Because this is a special provision chapter for duty free goods meaning they do not pay on these tariffs. Further this specific tariff is for items that assist with disabilities and are made for adaptive care. Think braille books, walking sticks - anything exclusively designed to help someone with a disability.

So I did digging and because Lug has partnered up with this 3rd party, non-profit called KultureCity, they are saying their products are now for the adaptive community.

KultureCity in their own right is a great non-profit that focuses on SENSORY needs. For those who are not familiar with sensory disorders, they’re commonly linked to autism and ADHD, though they can be diagnosed on their own.

I’m not sure how these bags that have been around for years and sold millions of units before KultureCity came along are now suddenly a disabled item. They do not advertise this as so either. But because a 3rd party high fives them and says 1 in 4 people with a sensory disorder somehow benefit from this bag, now they are claiming to the US government that they exclusively make bags for the disabled community. I get that the tariffs hurt companies and everyone wants a workaround but this is morally wrong using a non-profit to benefit their asses to sell their overpriced bags.

So they’re using the community to import their bags from China duty free. We have imported a ton of stuff for this company and not once did they ever claim this tariff on their products. It’s only ok now because of the trade war. I told my boss I wasn’t ok with this and is there a way we can require more documents. I was told unfortunately at this stage no and it’s up to DC to make the decision if they want to see more.

But just as they’ve been increasing their prices all along, watch them jump the price and say it’s due to the tariffs even though they’re paying nothing. And now that they have this extra stamp of approval for sensory issues, they’ll increase it again and say it’s because of the materials they must use to keep it adaptive even though it’s the same fucking bag and nothing has changed once.

And now they’re partnering with Disney and attending the upcoming D23 event to show their new Disney bags which will be marked up even further because it’s using their license.

And the kicker? This particular bag they imported only cost $7.80 to make per bag according to their claim. But they’ll sell it for $140.