#i just found this in my drafts mid 2021

[annieqattheperipheral]

you have to read this in full!!

i gotchu from behind the $wall:

The day Luke Prokop shook the hockey world by coming out, he needed to get away.

And stop looking at his constantly buzzing phone.

It was July 21, 2021, and the right-shot defenseman had just become the first openly gay hockey player under an NHL contract. The Nashville Predators’ No. 73 pick in the 2020 draft was just 19 years old and hadn’t even turned pro yet. He didn’t know how it would impact his future. His nerves were fried.

But one text message was impossible to ignore. He didn’t recognize the number but certainly knew the name.

“Hey, it’s Auston Matthews. I wanted to congratulate you. I look forward to sharing the ice with you someday.”

Prokop was blown away. The Toronto Maple Leafs superstar wasn’t the most famous person to reach out — that honor goes to Elton John — but the fact that so many NHLers, including one of the league’s best and most powerful players, were offering support meant a lot.

Now 21, Prokop still hasn’t taken the NHL ice, but on Wednesday he took a step forward, being recalled by the Predators’ AHL affiliate in Milwaukee. He could become the first openly gay player to appear in an AHL game Friday night for the Admirals in Rockford.

As difficult as the decision to come out was, Prokop told The Athletic in an extended conversation recently that he’s been mentally and physically freed by it. He doesn’t have to hide. He can be himself, on and off the ice. Heck, he can even date.

“It’s been massive,” he said.

Teammates and fans have welcomed him in his journey toward the NHL so far, from Calgary, Edmonton and Seattle of the junior WHL to, most recently, Atlanta of the ECHL. They treated him like he was any other player.

Not that there’s not room to grow. Prokop figured more players would come out after he did. They haven’t, not that he would rush anyone’s decision on that. He’s also been disappointed by the developments over the past few years with the NHL’s inclusion efforts, including the Pride tape “debacle.”

He can only control his own actions, though, and doesn’t regret his decision.

“I’d like to think I’m a realistic person,” Prokop said. “I know hockey is not going to be forever. As much as (when I came out) I would have loved to keep playing, I was OK with not playing any more if it didn’t work out — just being able to live my life the way I wanted, to be myself.

“But now, I don’t want to stop playing. It was definitely nerve-wracking. You never know what the reaction is going to be inside hockey, outside hockey, because no one has done it before. We kind of went out on a limb and hoped for the best. It’s been way more positive than we thought it’d be. You’re going to have some keyboard warriors, which there were a few, but I was expecting more.

“I did not expect the amount of support I got from NHL players. That was really cool.”

- - - - - - -

The Matthews text and Elton John phone call the morning after were memorable, with the gay rock legend welcoming him to the community and offering his email address if Prokop ever needed anything.

Prokop found even more comfort in a moment that came a few days later — the first time he played hockey since his announcement. It was a four-on-four league in Edmonton at Meadows Rec Center, a place where pros and NHLers competed and kept in shape during the offseason.

Prokop was on a team with Colton and Kirby Dach. The other team had Philadelphia Flyers goalie Carter Hart and the Boston Bruins’ Jake DeBrusk. During warmups, Prokop found himself near mid-ice. The first guy to approach him was DeBrusk. The two had met previously through mutual friends. DeBrusk tapped Prokop’s shin pads with his stick.

“Congrats,” he told him. “I’m really happy for you. If you need anything, let me know.”

“I didn’t know what the reaction would be,” Prokop said. “So that meant a lot.”

Prokop was returning that year to the Calgary Hitmen (WHL), the junior team he had played for the previous four seasons. But there had been a lot of turnover on the roster and, of course, a lot had changed for Prokop. So he decided to address the team in its first meeting in training camp.

“Everyone knows what I did last summer,” he told his team. “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable. There might be a lot of media asking you for an interview. If you don’t feel comfortable, you don’t have to do them. If you have any questions for me, come ask me. I’m an open book. I just don’t want you guys to feel uncomfortable.”

In that dressing room, Prokop had heard plenty of the uncomfortable language that’s not uncommon for any locker room. He even admitted using it. He didn’t want to out himself. He wanted to act straight, be “one of the guys.”

“I heard it, but it wasn’t all the time,” he said. “I also took it from the perspective that these guys don’t know any better. It’s hockey language. It’s how guys talk. They don’t mean it in a harmful way. They use the word ‘gay’ as a filler at the end of a sentence to make something stupid. ‘Well, that’s so gay.’ I wasn’t comfortable with it, but I used it myself. I didn’t want to seem like I was out of the mix.

“Some guys texted me (after I came out), ‘F—, sorry if I said anything to offend you when we played.’ I’d just say, ‘Guys, you had no idea.’ The lesson is you don’t know what everyone is going through. The words you say do matter. Make sure you think before you speak. It’s a silly rule you learn in kindergarten. It applies to life when you’re 22 or 35 and never goes away.

“The way hockey is going with the language, guys are naturally changing their language. I’ve heard a change in language on every team I’ve been on.”

Prokop said that season was the best of his career, both from a production standpoint and a personal one. He was traded to the Edmonton Oil Kings early in the season and had 10 goals and 33 points in 55 games for them, helping them win the WHL’s Ed Chynoweth Cup and advance to the Memorial Cup.

Luke Prokop won the WHL’s Ed Chynoweth Cup with the Oil Kings in 2022. (Courtesy of Oilers Entertainment Group)

Luke Pierce, then an assistant coach for Edmonton and now the head coach, said the staff and management had discussions with the leadership group before acquiring Prokop — making sure they were comfortable with it, feeling out whether their room could handle the attention. Pierce said he asked one of the captains, Blues prospect Jake Neighbours, for his perspective. Neighbours had known Prokop since they were 10 or 11, growing up playing in spring tournaments together. He told Pierce and the staff there would be “zero issue” and he’d be a great addition.

Neighbours said nothing really changed, that Prokop “fit right in” to the team. Pierce at first wondered if players would have any issue with rooming assignments on the road, but nobody blinked. Pierce noted that Prokop would joke about situations and even opened up about his boyfriend coming to visit.

“He put everybody at ease,” Pierce said. “I often tell people, if the outside world could see how the group of men interacted, it would be just a tremendous inspiration on how we should treat everybody.”

Pierce and Prokop pointed out how this generation is more comfortable and equipped to handle LGBTQ+ inclusion issues. Everyone seems to know someone, be friends with someone, or be related to someone in the community.

“I just don’t think guys really care anymore,” Prokop said. “They might be nervous as they have this stereotype version of what a gay guy might look like, sound like, act like. Like me, coming to a team, they think I’ll act a certain way, look a certain way, but they’ll realize three minutes into talking to me that I’m not that.

“Hockey is part of me. It’s who I am. Guys totally forget (about me being gay) when I’m at the rink. They’re not afraid to ask questions. But other than that, it never really comes up. That’s how I wanted it to be. I wanted them to know, but we can all go out and play. I never wanted to be a distraction.”

- - - - - - -

The NHL’s decisions around Pride jerseys and stick tape weren’t a distraction, Prokop said, but he has gotten frustrated about it.

He understood the issue over wearing sweaters during warmups — “jerseys weren’t really their choice” — but lamented that the fact the focus was on the handful of players who refused to wear them and not all the others who did. The NHL’s initial banning of Pride stick tape, then its reversal, was a whole other topic.

“To take away choices from players was really confusing,” Prokop said. “Some of them don’t really care. For some, it was near and dear to their heart. To take it away was mind-boggling. From the players’ side, the support was there. Zach Hyman talked about it, Travis Dermott. I like what they did. They didn’t make a big deal about it before — they just did it. Let fans see the rest, and it’ll take care of itself. There’s a massive amount of support from players in the NHL.”

What do the Pride tape and sweaters mean for someone in the LGBTQ+ community?

Prokop didn’t recall noticing them growing up going to Oilers games. He never got to see someone who was gay using Pride tape on the TV screen. He had to deal with it himself — “jump over those barriers without any help.” But Prokop continued pursuing his hockey career whereas “a lot of people don’t feel comfortable pursuing their career without that exposure, without feeling like they’re being seen.”

“I think with the Pride tape stuff, they were trying to show support for their older fans,” Prokop said of the NHL. “The fans that have been watching hockey for 40-50 years. That’s not how you grow the game. You want to get the younger generation, put these guys in the best situation to promote the game. Sometimes I don’t think the NHL does that the correct way. The Pride tape is one example.”

Prokop has been part of two Pride nights since he came out, one with the Edmonton Oil Kings and another with Seattle. The Oil Kings staff approached him after not having that event on their promotional calendar. They planned it in two weeks and it was a big hit, with around 8,000 fans in attendance.

“Some guys told me it was the most impactful game they’d been in during their career,” Prokop said. “They said they didn’t realize how many Queer fans they had. I don’t think they realize how much my community watches hockey, plays hockey and cares about hockey.

The Seattle Pride night was fan-driven, which made it unique. Thunderbirds fans noticed that other rival teams had a special night for Pride and made a push for their own, making bracelets and T-shirts. Prokop told teammates they didn’t have to wear the stick tape — he knows how superstitious hockey players are. They all wore some, for him.

“I always look at the perspective, the other side of Pride nights — why do you have them if no one on the team is gay?” Prokop said. “The point is that it’s for the fans. For me, it means a lot to play in them to show my community and be a representative on the ice.”

While education is important, Prokop said any real change in the NHL when it comes to inclusion will start with other players coming out. He’s not putting any timeline or pressure on that. He didn’t have one. But that’s when players in the league will see a different perspective, get more comfortable with it.

“Otherwise, it’s always going to be a story,” Prokop said. “I also can see why guys don’t want to come out. Especially in the NHL. They’ve been very successful, so why change? I kind of saw that from the perspective when the whole Pride jersey story came out. My phone was blowing up. I don’t think guys want to have to deal with that. There was a responsibility for me to talk about these topics. I don’t think guys want to do that. I can see it from that side, why they don’t want to come out.

“I don’t think anything is going to change unless someone else does. Someone else will step up. It’s only a matter of time. I thought there’d maybe be two, three of us by now. But it hasn’t happened. But I know there’s going to be someone else soon. It’s math. There’s what, 700 players in the league? There’s definitely a few more.”

- - - - - - -

While there have been some derogatory comments coming from the stands on a few occasions, Prokop has been encouraged there have been none from opposing players.

“Zero,” he said.

Most of the feedback he’s received, even on social media, has been positive. And it’s not just the comments like Matthews’ that stick with him. Two high schoolers in Seattle, Kaitlin and Jo, reached out to him over Instagram. They are part of the LGBTQ+ community and were struggling.

“Like everyone, they just wanted someone to talk to,” Prokop said.

Part of Prokop’s pregame routine is usually to hang by the bench and listen to music. On many occasions, Kaitlin and Jo would come by and the three of them would just chat for 10, 12 minutes. They’re the fans that Prokop saw every game above the tunnel on his way to the dressing room. They’ve stayed in touch. Prokop even did a Zoom meeting with their high school class last month. “They have a special place in my heart,” he said.

When, and if, Prokop makes his NHL debut, he says he’ll have a special secret plan for them.

Whether Prokop lives his NHL dream remains to be seen. He’s praised the Predators for their support from the first time he did a group video call with the staff. Former NHLer Mark Borowiecki, now a development coach, has been someone Prokop has leaned on often, not only for on-ice advice but for help getting through things mentally.

Scott Nichol, the Predators’ assistant GM, likes Prokop’s potential.

“Big right-shot defensemen that can skate, move the puck. They don’t grow on trees,” he said. “He just needs to polish up his game in some areas in the defensive zone. He’s got the tools. He’s got the skating ability. It’s just patience and embrace the process.”

Prokop is grateful for his support group, from his parents, Al and Nicole, to his brother, Josh, and sister, Alanna. He’s kept in touch with Heather Lefebvre, who is a specialist in hockey engagement and alumni relations with the Oilers Entertainment Group. They talk almost every day. What sticks out to Lefebvre is how young Prokop was when he came out (19), and while he wears this “trailblazer” cap, he’s still standing alone.

“I think this generation is more ready for it than past generations, for sure,” Lefebvre said. “It says a lot to me that nobody else has come out in the year and a half since he has. He’s the only openly gay player under NHL contract, but he’s not the only gay player under NHL contract.

“That’s where I think we have work to do. Is it great that he’s been accepted and can do his thing? Yes. But he looks at the positives, which makes me really happy for him. But that doesn’t mean there’s no negative.”

Prokop takes the positives in his off-ice life, too. He lives with Alanna in the offseason back home in Edmonton. He’s found teammates to share in his hobbies, like golf (he plays 40 to 50 rounds a year). He loves to read, from biographies to sci-fi. He watches basketball more than hockey and has more than 25 jerseys. He cooks. He got into puzzles during the pandemic and is bullish about doing them on his own.

Prokop also feels comfortable getting out there on the dating scene and not having to hide it from teammates.

“Obviously, the lifestyle of a hockey player is tough for some people,” he said. “I’m trying to find the right person to connect with. I’m a softie, a romantic guy. I love love. I’m always on the lookout for that right person to spend the rest of my life with.”

Prokop doesn’t see the label of being the first openly gay player under NHL contract as a weight. It’s more of a responsibility. He has a platform and wants to use it. He’s realistic, “dreaming about winning the community service award more than the Norris Trophy.”

Making the AHL jump or someday the NHL jump won’t define him.

“One of my main goals when I came out is that if I could have an impact on one person outside of my family and friends in my lifetime, I’ve done my job,” he said. “I think I’ve done that and more. And I want to continue to do that.”

#luke prokop #auston matthews #jake debrusk #elton john #nashville predators #milwaukee admirals #atlanta gladiators #toronto maple leafs #boston bruins #jake neighbours #st louis blues #edmonton oil kings #calgary hitmen #lgbtq #pride jerseys #pride tape #nhl garbage league

[bekkathyst]

I just found this post in my drafts. I sadly don't have any of this inventory right now. It's from mid-2021, I think.

But I love how all of these look together, they're so pretty!

#original #crystals

[trishmishtree]

A list of things I sewed in 2022

Last year I compiled a list of the things I sewed in 2021, except for some reason, I made the list in November so it missed some of the stuff I made at the end of the year, like my reversible apron and the cottagecore/modernized chemise a la reine, among others.

So this year, I figured I’d actually do my year of sewing in review at the actual end of the year. (Btw I have no idea if these are actually in chronological order. This is just the order I found them in on my blog, which is the order in which I photographed them.)

First, a needle holder made from scraps of fabric from old projects, because I was just keeping all my needles in plastic cases and desperately needed a better way to organize them.

Then I made a short underbust c0rset I drafted myself by tweaking the fit issues I had from the previous c0rset I made and self-drafted in 2021. That previous c0rset was based on a dress pattern that I got by tracing one of my dresses that I then used to make the silk satin dress I wore to a friend’s wedding. (Yes, this c0rset was made with the same navy blue silk satin I used for the dress. No, the two projects have nothing to do with each other, as the dress was not made to be worn over a c0rset.) It has a zipper front and laces completely up in the back since it’s not meant for waist reduction. I use it as a back brace for days at work when I’m expecting to spend a lot of time standing.

Then there were the first regency shift, short stays, and partially bodiced petticoat that I made and never got around to using for anything because the silhouette wasn’t right for the 1810-1815 era gown I want to make. I still have them hanging in my closet for when I finally get around to making something from the earlier 1790s-1805 era. The partially bodiced petticoat is absolutely necessary because I made the stays a little too long and they rise above the mid-bust level and make lines. The shift works fine for this set of stays, but it’s just a tad tight in the bust to work with later stays that lift the bustline much higher.

Because the regency short stays weren’t the right shape and height for the 1810s look I was aiming for, I made another set of regency stays after that. This I made and immediately hated because the silhouette was all wrong. I used the Bernhardt pattern but didn’t get the bust and hip gusset shapes right, and I used bias tape for binding, instead of straight grain binding, so the whole top edge stretched out and flattened my bust instead of lifting it. I also found out that the Bernhardt stays pattern just inherently doesn’t work if you have scoliosis at the level of your spine where you take the measurements needed for scaling this pattern. These stays are now in my scrap bag because I harvested the boning and lacing from them for the new and improved pair (discussed below but not pictured, for decency reasons).

After that came the historybounding Victwardian shirtwaist and skirt that I made this summer. The floral skirt is a calf-length full circle skirt with a pleated back and is my absolute favorite skirt in my wardrobe, if only for the sheer amount of work that went into making it. The only issue is that I miscalculated when I was cutting out the waistband, so it ended up about 1 inch too short. It’s still wearable though, and I don’t mind it too much because the slightly tighter waistband means that the weight of the back pleats won’t drag the back of the waistband down. Alas, I don’t wear it all that often because I spend all of my waking hours either in a hospital where I wear scrubs or in a doctor’s office where people cough on stuff. While the skirt is machine washable, it’s a nightmare to iron, and the sateen weave warps with every wash. The blouse I’m much less fond of because it’s too poofy for daily wear, and the lace collar is annoying to deal with because it somehow manages to gape and choke me at the same time.

Then I took apart my purple floral skirt from 2021 and remade it because I have control issues and perfectionism issues and there is a long list of problems I had with the original skirt and wanted to fix:

Because my first attempt at a Victwardian shirtwaist was only minimally successful, I took another attempt at a historybounding blouse, this time with a Peter Pan collar and tucks instead of lace. I did go back and reposition the sleeve gathers after taking this picture. Still not entirely happy with the sleeves because I prefer 3/4 length or elbow length sleeves, so I tend to roll these up when I wear them. Also not entirely happy with the positioning of the collar. I feel like it should be higher up on the neck and sloped, not flat against the collarbone area, so I kind of want to make a set of detachable Peter Pan collars that I can wear with different outfits.

Then in August-September, I made the Capetember cape while working inpatient for a month. I didn’t end up wearing this one as much as I thought I would, mostly because it’s too short to curl up and wrap myself up to lounge in. But it did keep me warm for the like 2 slightly chilly days of autumn we had this year. Next time I’m including arm slits for practicality.

My first attempt at Edwardian/late Victorian combinations took 2 solid weeks.  The combinations themselves didn’t take all that long to assemble or drape on myself, but what sucked up most of that time was the amount of hand embroidering I took upon myself to do because I couldn’t find the right kind of beading lace to go on the waistband and leg cuffs. The combinations are based on the extant from the Met. I think I ended up making the straps too short because it’s not blousing at the waist quite right. The waistband lace is pretty, but it’s too bulky to wear under c0rsets, and I cut the buttonholes too narrow for the ribbon to come through without puckering and folding on itself. The drawers overall are just not full enough and bunch too much in certain places, so if I ever make this again, I’m going to try the Laura Baldt Clothing for Women circular drawers pattern instead. I would also go for a thinner, drapey-er fabric next time.

Then I made another c0rset. This time it’s an Edwardian S-bend c0rset based on the Aranea Black Tulip pattern. It’s made from a heavy cotton canvas with an outer layer of silk shantung. It’s also the first c0rset I’ve made thus far that actually has a metal split busk, which makes getting in and out of it way faster. It still needs some hip padding to fit properly, so that’s going to have to be a project for next year.

The S-bend c0rset doesn’t actually fit without a bust improver, which I made from stash/scrap fabric based on the LACMA extant:

And then I finally circled back to the regency era to make a new set of stays to redeem myself. They’re definitely an improvement on the old pair, but I can’t post pictures because it’s an underbust design, and the historically inaccurate cotton voile shift I’m wearing under them is completely sheer. So you’re just going to have to enjoy this photo of the new fully bodiced petticoat that I also made around that time and am wearing over it for modesty. (You can also barely see how the shift is just ever so slightly compressing my bust down because the new stays lift it into a higher position than the shift has room for.)

And then, since I was in the business of doing everything twice when it comes to regency costuming, I made another regency shift. This one is made from 100% linen (but probably not as sturdy as 19th century linen). It makes for a really comfy nightgown too.

And then, I finally got started on the regency gown project that I keep referencing but never got off my butt to do this year. I managed to embroider and finish the bodice before the end of 2022, so I’m including it on this list even though the gown is still nowhere near finished.  (Using my hand as a censor bar because my new 1810s stays are really good at lifting the bust, and my new shift was being Opinionated today and didn’t want to help contain it.) The final gown will have a front bib panel that’s attached to the apron front skirt and will cover everything that’s currently threatening to spill out of the neckline of my shift.

Not included in photos because I didn’t think they were worth photographing:

a seam roll I made from scraps of the purple floral and black and white chair slipcover fabrics

a set of fabric face masks I made from the last scraps of the same two fabrics. I haven’t worn them all that much, though, since they tend to fog my glasses and I prefer the regular blue masks

a couple of polyester satin half-slips that I made to wear under my skirts so they don’t cling to my tights when I walk

a mousepad I made for a coworker’s birthday

a wine tote and matching coasters I made for another coworker’s birthday

a couple of floral embroidery pieces I made for two other coworkers’ birthdays

an apron I made as a going-away present for a former coworker’s graduation

a fleece blanket I made for my cat

a pocket I sewed into the inside of my whitecoat so I could have my iPad on my person while rounding in the hospital without worrying about accidentally leaving it in a patient room

a newer, bigger, studier tote bag to replace the one I made in 2021 (nothing happened to the old one, I just wanted a bigger bag for work)

an alteration I made to improve the fit of a dress I’ve owned since 2017 that had since shrunk in the wash and was too tight in the shoulder area

an Edwardian dip waist belt I made from the same floral fabric I used for the skirt above

Overall, this looks like a pretty good list for someone who sews exclusively by hand. With 33 projects/items made, and me working 12 weeks of inpatient shifts in the past year, I’m basically averaging about 1 project per week on the weeks that I have the energy for creative pursuits.

Looking back, it seems like about half the things I made this year were 1800s-1810s and 1900s underwear that no one is ever going to see. Hopefully I’ll get around to making actual clothes to go over these pieces in the coming new year.

#historical costuming #long post #sewing #hand sewing #tricia sews (kind of) #everything was entirely hand sewn because i don't own or know how to use a sewing machine #year in review #next year I have got to make some progress on the regency gown #and i also want to make an edwardian/historybounding summer skirt and petticoat #plus or minus on another shirtwaist/bodice

[thechroniclesofahotgirl]

The Chronicles of a Hot Girl pt 1. Mercury is in the microwave.

It was an unseasonably hot April night. Mercury was about to be in the microwave, and I was on one.

See, I had been on and off with the same emotionally unavailable person since mid-2021. He was initially just the rebound.

The trouble is I was really going through it in 2021. To the credit of this situationship, we had really great sex, and I know that the way he hurts people isn't intentional. The problem is the way he hurts people is addictive to someone like me.

These chronicles, though, are not about him and me. These here chronicles begin with a Friday night. It was a revenge dress, hold a roster draft, not give a fuck kinda Friday night in Ybor City.

"As it should be."

A few friends of mine got together to see where the night might take us. So through the back gate of the karaoke bar, we slipped in. I signed up for Fall Out Boy's 'Sugar We're going down." We all know I killed it because I am also a very talented girl in addition to being a Hot Girl.

It was like I blinked, and then somehow, the group had made it to the patio of the karaoke bar where the owner was sitting atop the bar, and the bartender was shirtless, pouring a mystery blue liquor down our throats.

With that, I made haste to return to the sanctuary that was my Boss's condo a few blocks over. On the way back, my girlfriend and I popped into an Irish Pub for a little break and a pee.

It was there that the beginning of our roster for this illustrious Hot Girl Summer took down its first name.

We will call him Young Short Orlando Bloom for the sake of this here practice. He had his dark curly hair in a half-up half-down man bun that looked like what the guy who cheated on me in 2021 thought his hair looked like. His shirt was a little oversized, the same way the costumes in the Pirates of the Caribbean did, but it looked more like a sweater.

He and I made eye contact a few times before he approached my friend and me. We took shots, and I got his number. We texted a few times, but mostly just on the weekend. Our paths have yet to cross again.

I had been working all day the following night and just wanted to blow off some steam. I made the mistake of messaging B again, having yet to learn my lesson from 2 nights before, 4 months before, or in the year and a half before that.

For the first time, he was adamantly not interested in seeing me that night.

"Smash cut."

His call rolled around at 3 am as the witching hour does. He only had 3 % battery and would be waiting for me outside the bar I worked at.

Not quite ready to let go, I acquiesced. Got out of bed, put on a cute crop top, and drove the 11 minutes through the vacant streets. When I found him, he was right where he said he would be. I tried not to literally run to him. Maybe it was just the alcohol, but how he scooped me up in his arms felt like he missed me too.

When we returned to his house (the one I have the code to get into, but whatever, I guess), I couldn't help but snuggle on his chest, half awake. I could feel him staring a hole into my face while fighting, and losing, the urge to put popcorn in my nose and ears.

We went to sleep like nothing wrong had ever happened between us.

I woke up the following day like we always did. The sunlight beamed through the windows around the room, illuminating a mess of clothes achieved only by someone experiencing burnout or depression. (I say this from personal experience.) But from the bed, I couldn't really see it. One of his kittens would join us to let us know the day was ready to begin. We cuddled some more. Had sex. Then I went home. That was the last time I talked to him. He is blocked again for now.

While I was there, though, there was one different thing. I woke up to a message from an unknown number. It was a gentleman caller who wanted to make me a passenger princess. In B's bed, though, I replied

"Those are some magical words you're putting together."

This brings us to our next name claimed by an already quickly fleeting roster. We can call him the Really Respectful Driver. When I had dubbed him as such, I didn't realize the irony of the name. He decided last minute before our pizza and sunset date on the beach (I am not kidding, 100% his idea) that he was too tired.

I forgave him but made plans with another guy friend because I'll be damned if I planned on getting dressed and was now wasting a perfectly cute outfit.

The really respectful driver had messaged me something about liking mystery, and I remember saying to my friend.

"Yes, the mystery of if I'll give you another shot after this."

Anyway, as I sat at a bar overlooking downtown and the river, I sipped Carmel Espresso Martinis with a guy friend of mine. We had worked together back in 2020 at the same bar in the combination college and million-dollar mansion area of town. He was cute but had made out with a friend of mine. Also, he is about 4 years younger than me, and it feels weird to think of him as anything other than a friend.

At that bar, though, while simultaneously wreaking havoc on a group of guys giving their friend a hard time for ordering a bud light (you know, because Bud Light had a partnership with a young up-and-coming internet personality known for her journey in the Trans community) I managed to catch the eye of a pretty blonde bartender who had accidentally cut her hand open on broken glass.

I wasn't sure then, but I figured she was probably gay and tried to shoot my shot. You, as the reader, need to understand that I am out of the closet to almost everyone but my family. I also haven't had nearly as much experience in that bracket either. All this to say that with women, It could be a 50/50 shot on how smoothly the words might come out of my mouth. Or better yet, my favorite move, run away after you ask them out without getting any of their contact information. 

I walked out of that bar with my friend that night, wondering if I had given her the same vaguely interested vibe she had given me.

A little phone notification was all it took to confirm that suspicion. The really pretty bartender found my Instagram account after I had posted the martinis my friend and I had gotten and tagged the bar. She led with something cute about liking girls to toast marshmallows. She nailed it, honestly.

So another name goes down on the roster.

That brought us to yet another weekend. A time when the city I love comes to life, and I take refuge in the karaoke scene.

This second weekend. Well, Mercury was defiantly in the fucking microwave. HOLY SHIT. Mercury retrograde is marked by a period in our lives where communication breaks down, technology takes a crap, and unresolved issues rise to the surface.

Being a Hot Girl comes with its own… special issues. I remember the first time I was pinned to a doorway in a back building during my freshman year of high school. I was 14, and a pattern was blossoming. Each year I grew more into my body and personality and seemed to attract a vile kind of human. One that would pin me down, drag around my limp and unconscious body, and quite literally have their way with me.

I am 26 now, and my most recent experience with this (depending on your feelings about coercion and how it applies to consent) was a year ago, almost to the day as I wrote these words here.

A man who works security at a bar I used to work at decided on a random April 27th, in the middle of the military bar, to grab my face from behind, forcing his gross non-consensual tongue down my throat. I looked to the friend I was out with for support, something to let me know that what had happened had actually happened. That my disgust and feelings of violation were valid.

Well, he happened to have his back turned, and with that information, I went crying to the patio of that bar. The bartenders of this particular establishment were no stagers to my ability to emote in public. They asked me if there was anything they could do, but knowing how my experiences in the past with reporting this sort of thing, I opted to drink the memory of him inside my mouth away as quickly as I could.

Looking back, I wish I had asked the manager for the security tape. They had since changed their camera systems and could no longer access that time.

If I have lost you a bit in this flashback, allow me to bring you back to real-time.

I spent the better part of the last year avoiding this person. I would cross the street to avoid walking where he could reach me from his post in front of the karaoke bar. So when I started visiting the karaoke bar again in early March, I asked one of the managers to just let me in through the back or walk in through the front with me, so I wouldn't have to interact with him.

That worked for about a month and a half. You see, the bar manager at this point also happened to be this person's girlfriend. After a hand full of visits, including the most recent one with the owner, the girlfriend was dying to ask me what the deal was. So she took her opportunity on this second Saturday of Mercury in the microwave.

I had been asked out onto the patio of this karaoke bar before. It felt like revisiting an old crime scene, a betrayal that this story need not concern itself.

I knew she was bringing me back to ask about the situation. I had decided a few nights before that I'd tell her the truth if she asked. My reputation had already been dragged through the mud once before, and I knew the truth no matter how she might take it.

After giving her my full recount of the details, she informed me that she would "do some digging of her own."

I returned to the main bar to grab my friend as I felt a panic attack swelling. I knew I had maybe 30 seconds before the air in my lungs would give, and my tear duct damns broke.

The wild thing about my specific brand of trauma is that, at the moment, I'm riding the adrenaline. As soon as that moment is over, I crumple up like a piece of paper and hyperventilate.

Between two dumpsters, my legs gave out, and I had a kind of panic attack that makes you nonverbal. I was trying to explain what happened to my friend in between sobs and gasps for air.

After some time, we walked to my car so I could clean myself up and explain my predicament to my friend. Once I had fixed my mascara and the foundation around my eyes, we made our way back to the bar where the rest of our friends had been waiting.

When we walked up, we were greeted by the same ugly Lorax-looking mother fucker telling us I was banned.

Funny.

So my friend went in and gathered up our group. We made a break for the only other bar that did karaoke on Saturday nights.

Where I had 2 more panic attacks.

The anger I felt put my whole body on pins and needles. Suddenly I was 14 again.

"We're sorry, but there were no cameras on that door in that hallway."

"No, a threatening voicemail is not enough proof."

14 years old, learning about the burden of proof because the burden is on the victim.

My only proof was the visceral reaction to being asked to recount that moment, and a screenshot of me telling my friend about the experience I had April 27th.

My whole friend group tried hard the rest of that night to get us "back on track with a great night."

I did too. I sang one of my favorite songs to sing. I tried drinking a beer. I tried talking to people about my big show on the horizon.

It was too late. The emotional hangover of 3 panic attacks in public was setting in, and I just wanted to stare at a wall in my enclosure.

The bar owner there visited me the next day at my job to get my side of things. She admitted that she had fired this particular employee once for being creepy. Too bad it hadn't stuck. It might have saved me a couple panic attacks.

Unresolved issues were coming to the surface. A staple of Mercury in retrograde.

As a Hot Girl trying to live her Hot Girl Life, I would have preferred an ex texting me at 3 am, but I guess I wouldn't have grown or learned from that.

That night I asked Mr. Respectful Driver if he was still open to going out again. He said he was. We made plans.

This brings us to now. Mr. Respectful Driver has, in fact, stood me up. Wasting yet another super cute outfit. Well, maybe not because I am going to another karaoke night. I'm new in a different part of town to sell tickets for my show.

He is not getting another chance. Another bites the dust.

Until next time, this has been week 1 in The Chronicles of a Hot Girl.

#thechroniclesofahotgirl #trauma #childhood trauma tw #dating #dating in 2023 #dating in your 20s #mercury retrograde #spiritual #spiritual growth #story time #tumblr stories #hot girl shit #sa recovery

[now-at-ex-radfem-notebook]

hjordisylva (2017, then in mid-2018 went off tumblr for a year after Oauth bought it and deleted all old posts when came back in mid-2019) > exdysf-feminist (August? September? 2021)* > dead-blog-blog-dead (early spring 2022, logged in just for one reblog and for the rename) > now-at-ex-radfem-notebook

Yeah. Meet me over at @ex-radfem-notebook.

I was debating if I should do this, but ultimately decided that yeah, I will — referencing this blog in various ways can come in handy. And:

I likely will be accused that I sprung out of nowhere, that the blog is a sockpuppet.

If I just say on the ex-radfem blog that this is my old blog, they might say I just found an abandoned radfem blog to point at.

I even had a thought that some might say at this post that I’ve hacked into an abandoned radfem blog….

But ok most probably it’ll be just accusations that I had never actually been a radfem. Yeah yeah yeah. I once too believed that ex-radfems never actually were radfems.

No, actually, I am ready to address your accusations directly if you want to make them, just do it there, I hope to log out of this acc and never log back in after I post this post.

Currently in active drafting for two big responses there, finally getting active. But still don’t expect systematicity.

*actually I wanted to make it exdysf-exrad, but at that time I had only just stopped identifying with the movement and didn’t want non-radfems think I made a complete 180° and radfems to completely disregard things I say.

[esperantoauthor]

Mid year book freak out tag:

Thank you to @gorgxoxus for tagging me! I wrote most of this a while ago and then saved it to my drafts. Finally circling back to actually finish it!

Best book you’ve read so far in 2022?

Impossible to choose so I'm going with the book I just finished: True Biz: A Novel by Sara Novic

I just finished this yesterday and I loved it so much!! The book explores Deaf culture from a variety of lenses (adults, teenagers, multi-generation Deaf families, brand new to Deaf culture youngsters, hearing parents of Deaf teenagers trying or failing to be supportive and more). More than any other piece of media, this book helped me understand the intense hatred toward cochlear implants that many Deaf people hold. The book weaves Deaf history and digestible bite-sized ASL lessons into a story about a teenage girl's transformative experience of entering a Deaf school after a failed attempt at mainstreaming. The author herself is Deaf and she interviewed many people within the Deaf community in order to due this story justice and it shows.

Best sequel you’ve read so far in 2022:

Probably The Split Worlds Series by Emma Newman. I got the first book for Chanukah 2021 and then immediately bought the next four books in rapid succession January 2022. Just a fantastic fantasy series with great feminist and political themes, morally gray characters, and unique worldbuilding. Each book took me deeper into the world and each book made me realize that previous attempts to solve societal problems had been too surface-level and change could only come from more systemic changes (and this happened in each successive book in a very satisfying way until things were finally solved with some very dramatic uprooting of long ingrained systems).

New release you haven’t read yet, but want to:

None? IDK someone tell me what to read.

Most anticipated release for the second half of the year:

Husband Material by Alexis Hall, which comes out August 2, 2022. I absolutely loved the first one and I can't wait for the sequel. I will probably buy this one since I'll be too impatient to wait to check it out through the library.

Biggest disappointment:

Meet Cute Diary by Emery Lee. I started reading this but ended up abandoning it because it was so focused on characters getting harassed online and I found that too stressful to read about.

Biggest surprise:

This is How You Lose the Time War by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone. I didn't know a lot about this book other than it came across my radar enough times that I got curious enough to finally read it. This novella about rival time travelling spies writing one another intricately encoded love notes was utterly captivating. Makes me want to co-write an epistolary (@blurglesmurfklaine 👀).

Favourite new author (debut or new to you):

Shaun David Hutchinson. I read one of his books last year but this year I have already two and they were both excellent! I've had the urge to read queer sci-fi lately and his books have definitely scratched that itch!

This year I read: At the Edge of the Universe and This is a Complicated Love Story Set in Space. Both highly recommended!

Newest fictional crush:

No one. 🤷🏻‍♀️

Newest favourite character:

Again, it's so hard to choose! I really enjoyed the main character in Man o' War by Cory McCarthy. They made some terrible and self-destructive decisions, but always for very understandable reasons. I loved seeing their growth over the course of the story.

Book that made you cry:

438 Days by Jonathan Franklin. This true survival story was riveting but the part that made me cry was in the endnotes. The author asked the subject of the book why he wanted to tell his story, even though it was so difficult to relate his harrowing experiences. He said something beautiful about how life is worth living and if his story could inspire even one person to hang in there and keep living life, then it was worth it. Having watched his boating partner struggle with suicidal thoughts and ultimately lose his will to live as well as struggling with them himself later made this very poignant.

Book that made you happy:

The Backstagers Volume 1 & 2. These graphic novels were full of imagination and adventure as the characters explore the fantastical world below the stage at their high school theater. Characters are diverse in a very casual way that I greatly enjoyed. A character got too warm up in the lighting booth and was hanging out in only his binder and shorts. A character was shown wearing hearing aids (or maybe a CI, I forget). Characters are boyfriends. None of this is made a big deal of and it brought me joy.

The most beautiful book cover you’ve bought this year:

Haven't bought any books this year! 100% library check-outs so far. But the most beautiful cover has got to be for Tarnished are the Stars! I just love the color scheme and it matches the clockwork-punk aesthetic of the story perfectly.

What books do you need to read by the end of the year?

I'd love to read The Broken Earth trilogy by EK Jemison. My cousin bought me a copy that has all three books in one (it's enormous!) and now that I'm reading ferociously again I should really get into it! The only problem is that my reading habits revolve around e-books right now.

Besides that, my library holds right now include: -I Kissed Shara Wheeler by Casey McQuiston -Radio Silence by Alice Osman -Solitaire by Alice Osman -The Data Detective by Tim Harford -The House in the Cerulean Sea by TJ Klune -The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo by Taylor Jenkins Reid (as of a few minutes ago, after reading your post Jas)

Tagging: @mytrashunicorn, @kurthummeldeservesbetter, @itstruthtime, @20xbetterthanu, @blangsty-days, @hkvoyage, @heartsmadeofbooks

#long post #esperanto reads #books #reading

[lyrsui]

currently working on a poetry manuscript,

and that's been true for the last four years. but around this time in 2019, i had a handful of poems, and i had some vague ideas of what i was writing about--at first i thought i was writing a satirical commentary on internet culture, but then as i wrote more and more, i had these other pieces that were like... sadder. in early versions of the book, i tried to tell a straightforward sort of "story" but the poems didn't work quite that way. so, i found other ways to sort them.

so, what have i accomplished since then?

in the fall of 2019, i probably had like 6-8 poems tops

then i signed up for a yearlong writing program at the start of 2020. it was costly, but it helped me a lot. it was a crash course in poetry. i read books. i wrote new poems. at the end of the program, mid-2021, i had something like 20-25 poems, but i was not yet at a full-length count.

i spent another year writing poems on my own. i joined a writing workshop or two but mostly i wrote in solitude. i finally got to about 35 poems by the summer of 2022. i felt hopeful.

in fall 2022, i submitted my manuscript to first book contests. i had done a lot of revising on my own. i asked a person or two to be my beta-readers. i felt good about most of my poems, as i had been diligently revising the 2019 drafts to their best, and i was nervous about the newer pieces but happy to have them included.

i received a lot of rejections. but i had two poems published online, and a third included in a horror poetry anthology. i was also named a semifinalist for one of the book contests i'd entered. these were all small wins.

i took a break from the poetry stuff to focus on school, then on job hunting. now things in my life have settled down and i am back to thinking about poetry.

i signed up for a poetry conference this weekend, where real live editors offer their genuine feedback and talk craft with us. i'm excited by the opportunity. i was given the first ten pages of notes and some of it was cutting, but goodness it's been so long since i really had sharp feedback on my work, and i am appreciative of it nonetheless. the conference runs till Monday morning. the notes are truly invaluable.

i plan to pursue an MFA in 2025, which would only be an extension of the $$$$ i am invested in my writing already. the yearlong workshop was several thousand, the conference a couple thousand as well. the manuscript consultations i plan to pay for will also run me a few hundred each, and the submission fees add up quick. truly, no one is lying when they say that writing is a pursuit mired in privilege. I am grateful to work a day job that makes a lot of all this easier, but it's cushioned work, isn't it? i recognize that more and more lately.

i am not mentioning the price tags to brag, but really just to highlight that money has felt so necessary in lieu of organic connections or inner networks. money isn't buying me placements in top tier lit mags but i feel like it is buying me the notes and feedback to guide my revision towards stronger poems that may one day be lit mag worthy.

i am excited by the work ahead. invigorated by the energy of knowing i have work worth launching into the world. i plan to use october to edit and refine, as there are many upcoming contests and i want to have better drafts to send along than i sent last year.

i plan to sign up for more paid workshops that will help me with drafting my fiction. i only have one short story under my belt, and i'd like to slowly round out that list too, eventually having three then five then ten, all in rotation to lit mags submissions too. i want my name to hold weight eventually. to become familiar.

it feels really good to have clear dreams and a clear plan for my writing career. my goal is to work on these poems and continue trying to place them. to partake in writing programs that may help me get exposure to other editors and mentors, etc. i hope that by the time i am ready to apply to MFA programs that I will be able to ask for a reference or two out of these workshops. by the time i apply for a poetry MFA, i hope to just use the published poems and an unpublished one or two as well, to feel confident about my abilities. then i'll generate a second book of poetry, who knows about what, and publish that too.

it's all fun to think about!

#writing #creative writing #poetry #poetry community #notes on craft

[unknowinglyfcked]

スウィートソウル。★

“Celebrating little success”

People see me as an intimidating person that is very hard to approach or hard to get along with, which is entirely wrong. Let’s say that person they are talking is me, I am Khesandra P. Bolongon, a 17 almost 18 year old girl, that is 5’1 feet tall, born in April 14th 2005. I am the type of girl that would be hyper-fixed on a certain thing once it matched my interests, I am also the type of girl that would get her personality and hobbies from people on the internet because I am not original even my ideas are not original even though I try to make it original as possible. I like drawing, because I get jealous of people with good art, that is not a lie but the reason why I started drawing is because I wanted to explore myself and try to see if I can also draw that is not a stick man. I like writing stories as well as reading stories, I am very passionate about my writing hobby but once I would try to write the full story, my ideas would immediately disappear like thin air and would lead in a very long state of writer’s block but after my long writer’s block I would quickly write back to my pending drafts with the idea I have written so that I won’t forget, of course I wouldn’t start writing my own stories if I wasn’t inspired by reading. I have different platforms where I would like to read which are: Ao3, Wattpad, Tumblr, Webtoon and etc. I also like watching people… in Youtube, I am not a stalker well sometimes, kidding aside I like watching my favorite youtubers and vtubers, as well as mukbangs, crime mysteries, slimes and clays and also some very questionable asmrs. If we are somehow talking about music I have a couple of music artists that I grow fond out thanks to their music such as Lady Gaga, Shakira, Taylor Swift, Katy Perry, a little bit of The Weeknd, Olivia Rodrigo and Melanie Martinez. If we are somehow talking about instruments, I can play two instruments or maybe three instruments which are the keyboard, ukulele and guitar. Playing the keyboard as a kid used to be my hobby but when it broke I was still a kid, then recently my parents surprised me a guitar they found on a facebook market place, and also bought my sister a ukulele which I also try to learn how to play whenever I have the time. And lastly, I am a kind of what you call gamer, I play genshin impact that saved me from boredom during 2022, roblox where I sometimes bully children, sims 4 and minecraft with friends.

Enough about me and my hobbies, let’s talk about how I’ve been. 3 years had passed after covid-19, I started to get easily irritated when things doesn’t go the way as I expect it to be. After that I also realized that I wasn’t a straight person, at first I though I was bisexual but I’m not I soon discovered that I like all gender including those trans people which turned out that I am a Pansexual person. I guess, I’m not the same person that I used to be, before the pandemic happened, the same person who used to be so nice and caring who is used to giving without getting anything in return. Now, I’m still caring and nice, but sometimes if something gets me pissed or anything like that I would immediately just turn people down and literally ignore them. So far I’ve only discovered

my strength in writing stories when I used to write at several platforms, also a strength in cooking when I used to be a cookery kid in my 9th and 10th grade, a strength in able to comprehend deep English words thanks to reading a lot back in mid 2020-2021, of course, if a person has a strength they would also have a weakness just like super heroes. I think the weaknesses that I’ve discovered was that whenever I try to write stories, there would be times that I will suddenly stop writing because of my immediate writer’s block or that I would get distracted which I hate so much because my passion for writing will die and just randomly come back when its late or when my ideas had already disappeared. I also have a weakness in terms of cooking, its when the oil would pop when you cook a fish or tuyo, it’s the fear of getting burned by oil that scares me, next is my English comprehension skills. I would say its not that good, I still try to read more whenever I get the chance to which is barely because of school and I’m trying to do my best not to fail my 11th grade as its my key to jumping forward to a next grade. These strengths and weakness will help me someday and I know that these are just a few of my strength and weakness as I still try to discover what are more I have as a person, these would also not just be my key to success but this would also allow me to be able to understand myself better in the near future. My realization of all these somehow made me able to understand myself as a person, if other people know who I am or how I’ve been, then discovering myself a bit more would probably answer the question “who is Khesandra?” that I have for myself, and who knows maybe someday I’ll be able to truly express my real self without any doubts or hesitations

You who don't have a name.

But you have something to aim

One day you will have no shame,

For you will have your own fame.

— Khesandra

[traumadragon]

feels dumb to post about adhd and autism here but I don't really have anywhere to scream (gently) about it

we literally cannot be diagnosed with autism because of how much neglect and abuse we went through, and the way i was tossed around my family constantly makes it impossible for anyone to have known me at critical times long enough to know if I have the childhood history of it other than my acting out + not getting attached to people.

we were finally diagnosed with ADHD recently through our psychiatrist letting us get on ritalin again last fall after we hadn't taken it since we were 7. our family that raised us after we were 8 found out i had been given it before they got me months after. the mother figure was very angry about it. they spent literal years teaching me how to manage my ADHD and I was severely hyperactive until on the autism side of things I developed an extremely strong interest in computer programming, which combined with the hyperfixation aspect of adhd with bouncing between different languages and different things to make with code.

now we are so burnt out, even when our burnout was decreasing, that it doesn't *look* like we have adhd. but in our brain? when the Ritalin wears off? it's like thinking with heavy fog and loud static getting in the way. our system doesn't communicate as well because our thoughts just cut off or jump suddenly and we can't locate where the original thought was. we started working on an essay for grad school on last Thursday, but our brain, even though we'd taken ritalin, used the Ritalin to focus on literally anything else super intensely. we couldn't get the focus, when it was there, to go on the paper. the day before we needed the draft turned in, we were up from 8 am to 11 pm working on the paper, and it was barely enough done to be enough of a draft for the professor to give feedback.

but we've started having meltdowns more easily again. when we manage the autism related stress well enough, people around us DO notice that we are *different*, that we don't communicate the same way they do, but it isn't an outright "you have a developmental disability". but when meltdowns get triggered more easily for us, it's the start of a huge spiral. if we don't do something to decrease the demands on us socially, sensory wise, etc, it will get worse. it's part of our burnout symptoms. we just recovered from the last burnout from the autism side of things in mid 2021.

but our body had already been warning us. we've been spending at least half of the day several times a week, and at least 6-8 hours the other days, nonverbal, brain refuses to communicate vocal cords and mouth movements and trying to think through it causes panic because we don't understand why. we accidentally started turning our work tasks into ways to use our interest in programming. we spent 3 days super intensely focused on that for the whole day, researching what was needed and trying to work with the limitations of the work computer. that made us get super far behind on the general tasks of our job on top of what we were already behind on. we aren't able to keep up with tracking social cues and the body language we've memorised very well. the only time recently we've be able to identify body language that registered as not neutral was in a meeting with two coworkers. i still can't tell what it means. I'm hoping it was just the look between two people just being annoyed with the conversation and one of the co-workers just telling me it was a yes or no question was the whole thing it was part of. anytime one of our interests comes up we don't remember to keep quiet and only give responses instead of talking about it more.

it feels stupid to be upset about it because I'm literally capable of living on my own, though I really can't keep up with hygiene and its always a problem, though I struggle to eat because ARFID+trauma fucks up what food i can cope with eating, but other than that, I'm able to exist with generally no difficulty, I'm in a field that is accommodating for the autism symptoms i have, its tolerant of my adhd. but I've gotten people accustomed to me being able to put a huge amount of effort constantly into just communicating in a way they understand.

it feels wrong that i wish i had been allowed to exist in a way that is comfortable to me. I'm too scared to use AAC instead of talking. I'm too scared of allowing myself to chew on things around people because I've been yelled at for it. I'm scared of talking about things I actually care about because people get frustrated with it. I'm scared of not doing a ton of math and observing tons of tiny things during a conversation just so people won't get mad that I can't figure out what they mean when they talk about things outside of visual context. I'm too scared to use ear plugs or ear defenders even though they would really help. I'm scared of anyone see a meltdown so I'm scared to let it happen if I can interrupt it at all, and I can generally interrupt it from starting by dissociating, but then when others are gone, I'm too scared to not just interrupt it and try to dissociate again because I almost break things i care a lot about a lot of the times with the trigger for them. So it just piles up over and over and eventually turns into a shutdown that confuses the people around me, that i am not so scared of, but it only delays an actual meltdown. I live in fear of when I won't be able to stop it anymore.

And I'm lucky I'm able to stop it. Even though it's because of abuse.

but no one sees the full picture of how bad it is.

I'm able to keep my autism symptoms being noticeable to me at a very low level instead of obvious. but every time burnout starts becoming obvious, it's harder and harder to not notice it.

and I don't know how to fix it because of how terrified I am of anyone noticing anything different than what they know of me.

and my therapist has literally said to me that I can't be diagnosed because of the way Aspergers was merged with ASD in the DSM5. Which is basically the therapist way to say that I don't suffer or struggle very obviously or in a way they notice so therefore it doesn't count. I know I manage it really well. But every person I know, online or offline, that knows me on a regular basis, if there's any concept of me being autistic in the conversation, the reaction everyone seems to have is "oh wait is that why you -" with a ton of random things like social cues and stuff I say regularly.

If people know what autism looks like outside of autistics that are nonverbal 100% of the time or struggle with gross/fine motor moments or other things that just aren't seen in autistics that get to live independently, they always register me as autistic. I can often tell if they do because they change how they talk to me even after just talking to someone else in their normal way, and I've read so many people with the form of autism that's similar to me getting upset about it... but I actually prefer it because they are clear, direct, and don't try to say so much at once.

If I stopped being so terrified of how people would react and let myself gradually just stop trying so hard, I don't know how my therapist or other people that know me would label me. It's so ingrained in me to do so many things socially as automatic responses, even though it's pretty common for a response to be incorrect, but people don't care if you correct yourself or apologise. but I don't know if anyone knows the real me, even online. i dont think i even know the real me. I just know the ways to interact and communicate and do things that I've been taught.

#autism stuff #actually adhd #don't feel like my issues count as real autism because of how much i blend in

[quinntik]

Reflections on Season 12 of League of Legends

In early Season 11, I made my debut in the amateur League space. Not as a player - I was far too insecure for that - but as a coach and analyst for my friend's team. I had previously made Diamond in Season 9 and failed to return for Season 10, discovering a complete and utter lack of fundamental knowledge. In response, I pledged myself to studying the game, limiting my actual play time so I could develop a deeper understanding of strategy and theory. During Season 11, I believed this had worked wonders; despite barely playing the game outside of 4fun games with friends, I felt that I had learned more in that season than during my entire history with the game.

Fast forward to mid-season 12. I had just finished a major project outlining in my own words the fundamental purpose of every champion in the game. I had experienced a lot of success on my Day 1 guides, proving to myself that I can break down, analyze, and understand new concepts very quickly as they come at me. My understanding of draft strategy was at an all-time high. And despite that, the performance of the teams I coached was declining while I consistently found myself making draft mistakes and panicking on my decisions in the moment.

The entire time, I was struggling with my cripplingly low self-esteem. Despite having spent more than a year trying to understand the game, I always felt I hadn't made enough progress. I always second-guessed my own decisions, and I regularly put my players into very poor positions. Upon making those mistakes, I would beat myself up for the entire game, failing to properly take notes during the game so I'd have nothing meaningful to tell my players mid-set. When I reviewed our VODs, I'd come out with immensely detailed notes about what went wrong and why (sometimes writing 8-page documents on a single 2-game set), and then immediately doubt the value of those notes. I had absolutely no confidence to speak of because at the end of the day, surely nothing I said had value. I hadn't even hit Diamond within three years (ignoring the fact that I was practically no longer playing the game). And if I hadn't even gotten near Masters, why should anyone listen to my opinions?

I recognized at a certain point that my matchup knowledge was too poor and that my creativity was lacking. My notes were in fact not helpful to my players, because they just overloaded them with information, obfuscating the actual learning goals. Furthermore, all of the time I spent learning draft theory stunted my development on actual in-game decision making. There was no doubt - I needed to develop the perspective of a player.

In Fall 2022, my team experienced a shake-up that required me to step in and actually play alongside my players. The team needed an in-game leader and I knew that somewhere within me I had the skills to be that leader, but I didn't trust myself. To supplement my experience, I also signed up for another league - the Victoris Rival Draft - allowing me to sign up as an individual and granting me access to new teammates with a fresh perspective. This wasn't my first run through the VRD; I had previously attempted to play in Fall 2021 and made my legendarily bad amateur debut with a 1-17 game record. With that in mind, my expectation was not to win - it was just to learn from the people around me.

At the same time, I had received an opportunity to sit on the analyst desk for the VTS - Victoris' Masters-capped League. Putting my self-doubt aside, I took the opportunity, which later turned out to be one of the best decisions I ever made.

Throughout that competitive split, playing on two teams while maintaining my content and getting some semi-professional analyst experience (a role in which I must gather and communicate my thoughts quickly), I experienced more positives than I could have imagined. I gained the respect of my fellow analysts, my Day 1 K'Sante guide was recognized by one of K'Sante's actual designers, and most incredibly, my VRD team actually won the entire league. I owe a lot to my ADC, Dallas, touted as the best player in the league who critically spent much of his time building up the confidence of the entire team and encouraging them to share their thoughts. I learned a lot from working with him.

While playing in the VRD as well as its sister League, the VRS, with my main team, I finally learned a fundamental truth. The strategic depth I had studied wasn't meaningless, but it did not apply at our level of play. I vastly overestimated the abilities of both myself and my peers, and underestimated the sheer amount of practice time needed to execute compositions with even a simple alternate premise. I'm fundamentally a Control player, but most League players are not! And solo queue does not teach players how to play Control - it teaches almost exclusively Teamfight and some Aggro strategies. Winning the VRD felt a lot more brainless than I thought it should, but it's because I was actually overcomplicating the game. While it's true that at the top level a Bait and Punish composition should beat a Dive composition 100% of the time, if the Bait and Punish comp is played by Platinum players with limited experience on that style, they're actually likely to collapse in lane and lose an "unlosable" matchup. The skills I was studying were irrelevant at my level of play, because we're not good enough at executing on the foundations that they were built on. And even if we were good enough, amateur players have lives beyond the game and cannot commit the time needed to learn how these alternate compositions work via practice.

Meanwhile on the VTS analyst desk, I was shocked at the level of play I saw from Masters players. Mistakes that I thought surely should have been stamped out at this level of play (jungle pathing errors, spontaneous solo deaths, etc.) were still being made frequently. The games were sloppy and imprecise. I knew that I would not have been able to recognize these mistakes before committing them if I were in their shoes, but if I could break the mistake down in such detail using my limited experience as a player, surely the more experienced, stronger players I was watching should have already thought about the things I realized in the moment, right?

Fast forward to Worlds 2022. It had been ages since I was able to get my friends together in person but Worlds in NA presented the perfect excuse to invite everyone over, throwing a pseudo-super bowl party. At that party, I finally got the in-person social interaction I was lacking. I spoke with my friends about everything going on in the game, breaking down some draft concepts, trying to understand certain decisions, and getting caught up in the excitement of T1 vs. DRX. In that moment, everything finally clicked for me.

I should be confident because I am a smart player. I have some baseline competence in my gameplay, as demonstrated by the VRD. Gaining the respect of my fellow analysts wasn't a fluke - I actually knew what I was talking about. My insight is my greatest strength - as demonstrated in my Day 1 videos and on the VTS, I can catch on to new concepts quickly and develop them into sophisticated models, and integrate them into my knowledge easily. The Masters players I watched weren't perfect at all - so I didn't have to be either. No longer was my self-worth tied to what I did and didn't know. I'm allowed to not know things because I learn so quickly. After years of hoping, the day had finally come; my confidence was restored.

The final piece of the puzzle came from an unlikely source - an Anthony Padilla interview with Hostage Negotiators in which I heard words that I've never heard before: "there's a difference between knowing something and having the skills to actually do it - and sometimes it takes practice." This blew me away - it validated further that I'm not always wrong, just that I had severely underdeveloped methods for practicing what I'd learned. When combining that with Coach Curtis' concept of Analytical vs. Intuitive players, I realized that I had over-indexed in my analytical skills. Why when doing draft practice would I give myself 300s per decision point when in a real scenario, I only have 30s? Why am I only developing my ability to think deeply rather than quickly? Why do I have no ability to "feel" things out without overthinking? I relied on spending an abundance of time due to my crippling fear of failure developed over the last few years, but I had been causing more failure by sticking to that. Failure can't hurt me anymore, because I have faith in myself to grow from it.

I have a general sense of how to develop practice methods after asking myself what more I can do for my teams after discovering that info-dumping isn't effective. What I can't believe is that it took me all of these other sources to truly appreciate what I had thought I learned from my favourite book from the past year - Peak: Secrets from the New Science of Expertise by K. Anders Ericsson and Robert Pool. Deliberate practice means properly working with the information - not just studying one concept and immediately jumping to the next. Intellectually I knew that, but I hadn't properly felt out or absorbed the concept.

I'm therefore going to play more games and practice more drills, hoping to internalize the feeling that I need to practice as well as research. My expectation is that I will spend one more season languishing in Diamond as I develop the intuitive skills needed to go further. I'll need those skills if I want to pursue my dream of being an analytical content creator, because my natural insight and analytical brain combined with increased intuition should make me unstoppable when it comes to researching for videos. But since I know how to learn and I'm learning how to practice, and since I'm finally starting to overcome my debilitating mental health issues, I know that one day Grandmaster or even Challenger will be mine.

If you'd like to support my content, you can subscribe to my YouTube channel or follow me on Twitch.

If you'd like to, you can also support me on Ko-Fi. I offer video editing commissions here!

#league of legends #essay #reflections #improvement #practice #esports #Youtube

[fanishjuli]

Parental Spirk fic rec list!

The Trouble With Vulcan-Human Hybrids by quantumgirl - 53k w., 16 Ch., Rated T, AOS.

A story in which Spock and Kirk meet their future children when accidental time travel happens. Future Spock and Kirk have twin children, a son and daughter, who each take after their parents in unique ways. After a bit of an accident, the two children are thrown into an Enterprise where Dad and Father are still only coworkers, learning how to get along with each other.

So Wise We Grow by Deastar - 81k w., 2 Ch., Rated M, content Warnings: major character death. AOS.

"Commander Spock, we have located your son," the Vulcan lady on the screen says, which would be great, except Jim can tell by the look on Spock's face that he's never heard of this kid before in his life. "If it is expedient, the child will be sent to join you on the Enterprise within the week."

a sequence that you never learned by annataylor - 64k w., 14 Ch., Rated E, AOS.

When Jim gets it in his head to adopt an eight year old Vulcan, Spock presents a logical solution to the issue of Jim's humanity: marriage to a Vulcan citizen.

Spring Blossom and it's sequel Baby's First Diplomatic Treaty (and other firsts for the books) by orphan_account - 26k w., 8 Ch, Rated E and 5k w., 1 Ch., Rated G. AOS.

Jim and Spock are also parents now, for however long. Oh my god. Jim and Spock are also parents now. He looks down at the baby and thinks quietly to himself, what have we done?

and

Jim and Spock's adventures in child-rearing aboard the Starship Enterprise.

That One Time When Jim and Spock Met Their Daughter From the Future by pristineungift - 7k w., 1 Ch., Rated M, AOS.

You know your day is going to be weird when some kid you’ve never seen before calls you ‘Papa.’

Smile by yeaka - 1k w., 1 Ch., Rated T, AOS and/or TOS.

Taurik wakes his dads up on their anniversary.

All In by little-smartass, spicyshimmy and summerofspock - 87k w., 17 Ch., Rated T, AOS.

Jim opens his eyes. Spock’s face is calm. It’s like they’re not talking about what they’re talking about at all - a living, breathing entity that’s made up of parts from both of them. She’s her own individual, sure, but they’re the ones who made her.

And Bones. Bones had something to do with it.

Jim’s red blood and Spock’s green blood and this steady, soothing heartbeat.

My Beautiful Human by LadyTauriel - 12k w., 1 Ch., Rated M, content Warnings: graphic descriptions of violence and underage. AOS.

Jim is an extraordinary human. He exceeds expectations constantly set for him in all areas of his life. His leadership abilities, his quick thinking, and his intellect are contributing factors to his potential for becoming a great starship captain. His fair colouring and symmetrical features are striking, making him stand out in a crowd of even the most aesthetically pleasing individuals. His mind is like a beaming sun, a warmth that Spock has missed on this cooler planet, pulling him in with all of its promising radiance.

When Jim smiles at Stalek, however, it is his heart and his love that make Jim the most beautiful human whom Spock has ever encountered.

David by WanderingAlice - 58k w., 21 Ch., Incomplete, Rated G, AOS.

When Spock met Lieutenant James T. Kirk and his son, David, he did not expect them to become a permanent fixture in his life. He was wrong.

What Makes A Family by GenericUsername01 - 81k w., 34 Ch., Rated M, content Warnings: graphic description of violence and major character death. AOS.

An AOS take on Saavik's backstory. One day, the Enterprise crosses into the Neutral Zone on a top secret mission to rescue some half-Vulcan, half-Romulan kids. Jim decides to adopt one of them. Only problem is, he's not a Vulcan citizen. Cue green card marriage.

Star Trek: Baby Blue by IBegToDreamAndDiffer - 21k w., 8 Ch., Incomplete, Rated G, AOS.

Their son has Jim's eyes.

What They Could Have Had (And Now It's Ours) by Froggyflan - 28k w., 6 Ch., Incomplete, Rated E, AOS.

“Stel, Spock and I aren’t like the ambassador and his Jim. We aren’t romantically involved.”

“But you will be.”

Spock leaves Starfleet to assist in rebuilding New Vulcan. Jim chases him.

The House of Kirk by Gyptian - 6k w., 1 Ch., Rated T, AOS.

Carol Marcus, possessed of a young son and an engineering degree, was asked to help in reverse-engineering parts of the drill Nero had dropped into San Francisco Bay. In the summer of 2262, she died. Five weeks later, Captain James T. Kirk received an urgent message. The first thing he did was call Spock.

Sorry Is Not Enough by foreverandeveralone - 15k w., 7 Ch., Incomplete, Rated M, AOS.

Spock was put on light duty following an injury. Jim, missing his boyfriend, came to one of his labs and seduced him, which, of course, ended in hot sex.

What Jim didn't know was that Spock was working on creating an environment that allowed the sperm of 2 males to combine into an embryo.

And Spock, distracted by Jim, forgot to close the lid to his completed experiment.

Build Me Up Buttercup by Spiderlass - 176k w., 13 Ch., Rated E, AOS.

Jim had always sort of known that karma would catch up with him one day. After all the shit he’d pulled, he’d have been more surprised if someone up there didn’t eventually go “welp, that’s long enough” and end his streak of good luck.

He’d expected to make it a little longer than twenty, though.

He also hadn’t expected karma to catch up with him in the form of a three-week-old baby girl with pointy ears.

A Little Lady Called T'Val by iknewaman - 108k w., 31 Ch., Rated E, TOS and/or AOS.

Jim doesn’t usually start fights with strange Vulcans at the tram stop, but sometimes you just gotta.

like blood, the stars by startrex - 25k w., 1 Ch., Rated G, AOS.

'You feel nothing! It must not even compute for you! You never loved her!'

He regrets the words the moment they come out of his mouth. But that other, older Spock said that he needed to get command of the ship, and to do so, must get his younger counterpart to acknowledge his emotions. Spock is not the first Vulcan Jim has had dealings with, and he can think of few things that would get T’pri as riled up as quickly as insinuating that she doesn’t love him.

He gambles that Spock is the same about his mother, and it pays off.

(Or, the one where Jim has a Vulcan daughter, and it leads to all sorts of emotions.)

And Betazoid Makes Three by tronjolras - 38k w., 9 Ch., Rated T, TOS. Part 1/3 of the series The Leona K. Yarro Adventures.

While investigating a distress call from an abandoned research satellite, Kirk recovers an unconscious child and unknowingly forges a telepathic connection with her.

#star trek #tos #aos #spirk #k/s #fic #spirk fic #star trek fic #parental spirk #kid fic #st tos #st aos #kirk #spock #jim kirk #james t. kirk #s'chn t'gai spock #fic rec list #mine #i just found this in my drafts mid 2021 #i dont remember when this is from lol #im gonna queue this and forget abt it #spirk fic rec #fic rec #the premise #star trek fic rec

[andreisvechnikov]

Ethan Bear is rising above and thinking big: ‘I wanted to make a difference’

Ethan Bear had heard hateful, racist words before. As early as when he was 5 years old, he had been targeted because of his ethnicity and culture while playing hockey for the first time outside of Ochapowace First Nation.

But this time was different. It evoked a new feeling. In the past, he had felt powerless to take a stand and spark change. Not anymore.

Keyboard warriors took to social media after the then-Oilers defenceman turned the puck over against the Jets in Game 4 of the first round of the 2021 Stanley Cup playoffs on May 24. The turnover led to a game-tying goal, and the Oilers went on to lose in triple overtime. But for some of those posting, the criticism wasn’t aimed at the on-ice mistake and its consequence. Instead, they mocked and slandered Bear to his very core.

To them, Bear wasn’t an Oilers player who had made an error. He was an Indigenous person who had ruined their team’s season — a season that was hanging on by a thread to begin with.

“It was very hard to go through it,” says Bear, who was dealt to Carolina in the offseason and is scheduled to play his first game back in Edmonton on Saturday. “It really felt like I was left on an island, and there was no way off it.

“Sometimes you have to have those hard conversations. I was always afraid of confrontation. But what I’ve learned is: You’ve got to hold people accountable, and you’ve got to look after yourself.”

It was his family members — particularly his then-girlfriend and now-fiancée, Lenasia Ned — who first noticed the vitriol directed at Bear. It kept coming a day later.

So they decided to do something about it. Ned denounced the comments with a Facebook post of her own, which quickly gained traction.

That led to Bear and Ned creating a two-minute video, which was then posted on the Oilers’ website. They received calls of support from the likes of Avalanche centre Nazem Kadri and Jordin Tootoo, the latter a close friend of Bear’s and the first Inuk to play in the NHL.

Tootoo’s message to Bear was: “We’re not just pigeons. We’re here to make our mark and make a statement.”

Bear has taken that message to heart.

Supporting Indigenous youth athletes is something he’s thought about for a long time. Bear, with the help of his family, Ned, and his agent Jason Davidson, has been pushing forward with a project tentatively called the Ethan Bear Foundation. It aims to help First Nation kids and families pay for elite hockey and elite sports. The financial component is only part of the foundation. There will be a platform where Bear can send videos of encouragement to young athletes and have them reply to him.

What happened after his last game as an Oilers player pushed Bear to take action.

“That was the start of all of it,” he says.

Bear needed to get away for a while after the season. He had felt his love and passion for hockey waning after the playoffs, and that feeling was only exacerbated when 215 buried Indigenous children were found in unmarked graves at the Kamloops residential school just days later. Ned’s paternal grandparents (and her grandmother’s parents) went to that exact school.

He and Ned rented a cabin 30 minutes west of Edmonton to take some time off from it all.

When he came back to Edmonton in June to train, he was determined to put everything behind him.

Then Adam Larsson signed with Seattle before the expansion draft in mid-July, and the belief from the outside was that Bear might become a focal point of the defence again. He never got that impression. It seemed likely to him that he’d be dealt as the free-agent period began on July 28.

That day, Oilers general manager Ken Holland called Bear into his office to deliver the news. He’d been traded to Carolina for winger Warren Foegele. Bear appreciated how it was handled. He didn’t want to leave Edmonton — “asking for a trade is not my thing; I’d rather work my way out of a situation” — but he’s pleased with how everything has turned out.

“Going to Carolina was the best thing for me,” he says. “It gave me that spark again, to want to prove to people that I am a good player.

“Once it happened, it was a relief for me. Going into the season, I don’t know how I would have survived going through all that again.”

Bear certainly isn’t looking back wistfully and thinking about what could have been in Northern Alberta.

After an excellent rookie campaign in 2019-20, when he played almost exclusively on the top pair alongside Darnell Nurse, last season didn’t go according to plan. He was a restricted free agent and trained in Kelowna, B.C., rather than under the watch of the Oilers training staff in Edmonton. He signed just before training camp started.

“I didn’t expect for it to wait that long,” Bear says. “Details and my routine are so important to me. Having that be late and trying to train, it was really hard on me mentally. It felt like I wasn’t important.

“I didn’t understand that’s how contract negotiations are for a restricted free agent. That really educated me on the way things go.”

From there, it was a case of two steps forward and one back — if he was lucky.

Bear started slowly and sat for a game as a healthy scratch early on. He had played in all of Edmonton’s 71 games the previous season. Then, while sitting on the bench in a late January game against the Maple Leafs, Bear was struck in the head by an errant puck. He wanted to get back in the lineup as soon as possible to help his team, probably rushing back sooner than he should have. He didn’t want anyone thinking he wasn’t doing whatever he could to return.

He missed 11 games and eventually found his footing. Though his underlying numbers were quite good, he never felt his game was as good as it was when he was a rookie.

Then came the playoffs.

In the third period of Game 4, Bear attempted a pass up the middle from the right corner of the defensive zone, which was intercepted by Jets captain Blake Wheeler. Within a few seconds, Mark Scheifele scored to tie the game.

Bear put his head down and whacked his stick on the ice in disappointment. He didn’t see the ice again until the third overtime period, when he got one shift just before Kyle Connor ended the Oilers’ season.

By that time, the commenters were already out in full force.

“If you watch that series again, I had a really good series,” Bear says. “I had one mistake on a game-tying goal, and it was like I gave up the whole four-game series. That’s what I’ve never understood. It was the one thing that people wanted to point their fingers at.”

The Oilers returned to Edmonton. With end-of-season meetings and players ready to go their separate ways for the summer, team camaraderie wasn’t running high.

“The one thing that sucked is I didn’t feel like I had much support when it happened,” he says. “It was such a weird thing to go through, and it just felt like I was alone.”

To start this season, Bear was often playing on the top pair with Jaccob Slavin before a six-game COVID-19 absence in late November. He has a goal and six points and is plus-8 in 18 games with the Hurricanes.

Stuck in a San Jose hotel while in COVID-19 protocol, Bear dealt with a cold and the chills during the first half of his 10-day quarantine. He’s played two games since coming out of isolation and feels as though his legs and lungs aren’t quite feeling the same as they were before. He didn’t play in the Hurricanes’ most recent contest, Thursday in Calgary, due to a non-COVID illness, according to head coach Rod Brind’Amour. A few more games, Bear believes, and he’ll be up to full strength.

Aside from dealing with symptoms, Bear had a lot of time to prioritize what’s important in his life while in his hotel room. He spent much of his time talking to family and reconnecting with old friends.

“It was something I kind of needed, in a sense,” he says. “It helped me reflect on a lot of things I never really got to think about and slow down. Ever since the trade, I’ve just been trying to work hard and go, go, go — and just try to have a good season.”

The experience had him willing to share the details of his pending foundation, even though the project isn’t ready to launch.

Bear has been more introspective since his time in San Jose, and it’s hard to blame him, given all that’s happened in the past year.

If he plays, Saturday would mark Bear’s first game in Edmonton since he was traded. Ned will be there, as will Bear’s entire immediate family — his mother, Geraldine; his father, Lloyd; his brother, Everett; and his sisters, Tara and Torie. He has a huge extended family and has no clue how many people will ultimately attend.

His No. 74 jersey with the nameplate in English or Cree syllabics remains one of the most popular choices for fans attending games. There will be even more of them Saturday.

“It’s going to be a really hard game for me, emotionally,” Bear says. “When I first got drafted to Edmonton when I was 18, that’s all I ever knew. That was my life and my home.

“I wouldn’t change it for the world. Honestly, like the way everything happened — the way it started; the way it ended — everything happens for a reason.

“I’m very thankful for the opportunity I had with Edmonton.”

That said, he’s happy to be in Raleigh, N.C., with Lenasia in a more laid-back environment. Away from the microscope, as he puts it. His new hockey home is “perfect,” he says.

Bear had hoped to have his foundation launched in the summer, but getting traded for the first time and trying to get settled in a new place slowed down those plans.

Then, midway through training camp, Bear tied an engagement ring around the harness of the couple’s miniature wiener dog, Flower, and let her run around. He waited until Ned noticed it before he dropped to one knee and popped the question.

He and Ned met more than six years ago when he was playing junior hockey in Seattle. She has helped him grow as a person and learn about his culture. She’s Okanagan from Westbank First Nation in West Kelowna, B.C. As part of her university degree, she has a minor in Indigenous Studies and has taught Bear some of her Native league, Syilx.

Ned has been a driving force behind trying to get the foundation off the ground.

Thinking back to his childhood has provided Bear with all the inspiration he needs.

His parents gave everything they had to allow him to play competitive hockey. They own the only gas station in Ochapowace and sometimes almost had to bankrupt themselves to get the money required to get him — and others — to a tournament. They bought a 15-seat van so they could drive players to the rink who would otherwise be stranded.

“Growing up on the reserve, there’s a lot of poverty,” Bear says. “My parents would literally drive house to house, knocking on doors, because (other) parents wouldn’t bring them (to the rink) because they didn’t have the time or the money. My parents would go take the kids from their house — with gear that they had to fundraise to get them — and we would all go to practice. I remember going house to house for an hour and a half and then getting there 20 minutes before practice. That was the only way we’d be able to practice.”

Bear doesn’t want Indigenous families to incur similar financial hardships the way some of his teammates did. Nor does he want young hockey players or other athletes to quit their sports because they’re the subject of racist intolerance of abuse.

He says he was never close to hanging up his skates despite being targeted numerous times as a child, but he knows of countless kids who’ve stopped playing the games they love.

He wants to be there for them in any way possible.

“You want to inspire kids to give it their all,” Bear says. “Opportunity is the biggest thing this world can give.

“If I can create a foundation where people can donate and help others and give them the opportunity and the motivation, that for me would mean a lot.”

Ned is working diligently on material for the website. Bear has had conversations with the NHLPA and companies looking to support his cause about the best way for a rollout. He’ll soon have a conversation with his cousin, Courage, a respected minor hockey coach in Saskatchewan who also runs an Indigenous hockey academy, to get his thoughts. He’s looking for someone to run the foundation, too.

Bear has been thinking about this for years. But the aftermath of his last game with the Oilers forever changed how much of a priority he views it as.

The goal is to have a reach across Canada. Bear has saved funds from signing sessions, his summer hockey school and appearance fees to put toward the foundation. He believes it will be launched within a year — perhaps as early as the summer.

“I’ve put a lot of money into it,” Bear says. “I want to do it right. We’ve put a lot of work and thought into it.”

It’ll become a reality soon enough.

“I remember how terrifying it was when I first left the reserve,” he says. “I think about all these scary things in life when you don’t think you belong, or you don’t think you deserve to be there, and how easy it is to just give up and go home.

“The reason I continued is I wanted to make a difference for other kids because I know how hard it was for me. I want to try to be there for them as much as I can.

“I think we can do a lot of good with it and help others.”

#ethan bear #carolina hurricanes #important read #really good article!

[daddyjackfrost]

hey there babe 👉👈 dropping by to request a bokuto oneshot (because bokuto brainrot go brrrr) with him being the simpleton idiot that he is, showing off his s/o to his teammates (because that makes me weAK)

babe!!! my love!! you’re so right bestie

bokuto is just 🥰🥰🥰🥰

one bokuto oneshot coming right up for my wifie 😏

bokuto x f!reader

warnings: none :) himbo bokuto, fluff, aged up! time skip spoilers!!!!!

a/n: ASTER I AM SO SORRY PLEASE THIS HAS BEEN IN MY DRAFTS FOR LIKE A WEEK AND I FORGOT AND THEN I FOUND IT AND THEN I WAS LIKE ‘how to write cute’ AND YEAH. IM SORRY IT WAS SO LATE! I HOPE YOU LIKE IT

You pulled down your blouse, anxious as you drove. 

The smell of the bento boxes in your truck made your stomach rumble, and you let out a small nervous smile. You had made bento boxes for Bokuto’s team, hoping that the food would help your first impression. Though you had been dating the outside hitter for almost a year, you had yet to meet his team. 

For the first couple of months, you both decided it was best if your relationship was kept lowkey, especially since Bokuto was a famous volleyball player and the last thing you wanted, was his image tainted. You knew your boyfriend was loved by many, men and women alike, and you were fine with keeping this quiet. 

You and Bokuto, and your families both knew you were dating, and for you, that was enough. For Bokuto, however, he wanted everyone to know. He wanted to flaunt you, show everyone that you were his and he was yours. He wanted to love you everywhere, he wanted to make sure you knew that he was proud of you and that he loved you outside the comfort of your home. 

You knew he did. There was no way he didn’t. Bokuto was the easiest man to read, and you loved that about him. 

The only thing that changed your mind was the conversation you had with Bokuto last night as he laid on top of you, his head resting on your chest. 

“ ‘m just sayin’ babe. My team will love you! I think you should meet them! They’ve heard so much about you, only fair there’s a face to the name.”

You choked on your water, staring down at Bokuto. Your eyes widened as he looked up at you with soft eyes. 

“Kotaro, what do you mean they’ve heard so much about me? You told them?”

Bokuto laughed and pressed kisses to your collarbone. 

“Of course, love! You’re my s/o, why wouldn’t I talk about you? Even my barber knows about you!”

You stared at the man with so much love in your eyes. Bokuto loved you, and he didn’t hide it from anyone. 

Why did you?

You pulled into the gym that Bokuto practiced in. It’s not that you were scared to meet his team, you were nervous as to what would happen after his team found out. You went to every game Bokuto played and you always sat in a seat he could see you in, and every time he made a nice hit, he would look towards you and smile. 

The media had tried to find this ‘mystery person’ but they gave up. Now, once the team found out, so would everyone else. 

And that scared you. 

You parked your car and slipped out, walking to your trunk. You grabbed the two bags that had the bento boxes and you quietly made your way to the gym. 

Bokuto had no idea you were coming, and you hoped that everything played out as you hoped. 

You walked down the dark hallways, walking straight to the gym that had your boyfriend in it. 

You turned a corner and immediately froze, stepping back into the shadows. 

“You seem awfully happy today, Bokuto.”

You didn’t recognize the deep voice that spoke, but you know it belonged to Sakusa Kiyoomi. Bokuto often talked highly of him, and you often watched his during matches, entranced with the way he moved. 

You leaned against the wall, hoping that Bokuto wouldn’t see you. 

“I am! Y/n said she had a surprise for me and I’m so excited to see it!”

Your lips pulled into a wide smile at the sound of Bokuto’s voice. He sounded so excited, and you hoped that this fulfilled his excitement. 

“You seem to really love this y/n.”

Your heart stopped, waiting for Bokuto’s answer.

“I do, Omi-Omi. She’s everything I’ve wanted and more! You know, I still get those butterflies in my stomach when she smiles.”

Your breath hitched and you tighten your grip on the bags, your fingers going numb at his words. Bokuto told you he loved you every day, but there was something endearing about hearing it behind your back, and so openly too.

Bokuto and Sakusa walked by you, walking right into the gym. You checked your watch. Their practice would end in ten minutes, and you wanted to show yourself before everyone left. With a deep breath, you quietly walked into the gym. You stayed against the wall and then walked up the bleachers, sitting down.

You put the bags down and kept your head down for a moment. You purse your lips, trying to see if your lip gloss was still on. You could hear volleyballs flying and slamming into the floor and the walls, and you could hear the loud chatter of the team.

With a deep breath, you lifted your head and laced your fingers together. You looked at the court and your eyes instantly met Hinata’s familiar ones. Hinata often came over with others Bokuto had gone to school with to play games or hang out. The orange-haired boy stared at you, blinked, looked away, and then looked back at you. His eyes widened and lightened up and he smiled, waving at you.

“Y/n-san!”

Your eyes widened as eleven heads turned to face you. Your face flushed and you lifted a limp hand, waving at Hinata. Your eyes shifted and met Bokuto’s wide surprised ones. You could see the way they shine and your heart squeezed in your chest when you realized that you did that.

You made Bokuto’s eyes shine.

“Baby!”

Bokuto threw the ball, running towards you. You didn’t even have time to blink before Bokuto was at the bleachers, leaning over to be closer to you.

Even though Bokuto was sweating, he still looked as breathtaking as ever. His hair was still up, some of it falling, his arms bulging in the tight shirt he was wearing, and his chest slowly heaved up and down. Bokuto smiled up at you, and you slightly leaned forward and smiled at him.

“Y/n? What are you doing here? Wait, actually, don’t answer that. You’re here!” You couldn’t help but laugh at your boyfriend. Beautiful and loving as he may be, but simpleton he would always be, and you would always love that about him.

You nodded as you used a napkin to dab away at the sweat on his face. “I’m here, ‘Taro.”

“What made you change your mind?”

Before you could say anything, Coach Foster blew his whistle. “Bokuto! Practice isn’t over yet!”

Bokuto smiled sheepishly at you and you tapped his cheek twice, smiling at him. “Go, finish practice and then change. You still have to introduce me to your team.”

Your words seemed to ignite something in Bokuto, because he blew a kiss your way, and then ran back. Your cheeks grew warm as you heard Atsumu Miya and Shion Inunaki tease Bokuto.

You made eye contact with black eyes, and when Sakusa gave you a very small smile before looking away, you relaxed. 

As soon as the manager blew his whistle, Bokuto was the first one in the changing room. This caused Atsumu to yell a loud “Slow down, loverboy!” which made you laugh.

You silently stood up and grabbed the two bags, walking towards the coach and the manager. You bowed and introduced yourself, handing them each a bento box.

When Bokuto flew out of the change room, his eyes landed on you laughing at something his coach said. Bokuto’s heart warmed at the sight. If his coach liked you, everyone in the world would like you, not that he had any doubt.

Bokuto skipped to you, throwing an arm over your shoulder. You paused mid-sentence, smiling at him, and then continued. Their manager laughed as she picked up a few papers.

“Your girlfriend is quite the storyteller, Bokuto.”

Bokuto's smile dropped as he heard his coach say those words. Horrified, Bokuto turned to your sheepish expression. “Please tell me you didn’t tell them that story, my love.”

Instantly, you put up your hands and shook your head. “NO! Never, ‘Taro, I would never.”

“What’s this secret story?”

You and Bokuto slowly turned and face face-to-face with Shugo Meian, Bokuto’s captain. You and Bokuto both hastily shook your heads, hands up as you spoke at the same time.

“Nothing!”

Hinata and Atsumu both grinned as their eyes met yours and you gulped.

Bokuto cleared his throat and pulled you close. 

“Team, this is my s/o, Y/n!” You smiled and bowed. The team all smiled at you, bowing their heads.

You saw Hinata eye the bags by your feet and you gasped. “I forgot! I, uh, made some food for all of you! I didn’t know what everyone liked so I made a bit of everything.”

The team all thanked you as you handed each one of them a bento box. You smiled and laughed and conversed with everyone with ease, and Bokuto watched you with adoring eyes. 

He stood a few steps away from you, giving you space as you got to know his teammates. He stood with his arms crossed, a soft smile on his face. 

He loved you so much.

taglist: @h-grangerstudies @elektrosonix @snoozless @howcanyoubreathewithnozaire @oracleofdin @iwasumi @qualitygiantshoepsychic @rinrinniesstuff @asterroidd @ackerpotato

since i feel bad, here’s a cute pic of bokuto

cutie

daddyjackfrost © 2021 | all content belongs to me, do not modify

#requests! #requests are open!! #haikyuu #haikyuu!! #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x reader #bokuto #haikyuu bokuto #bokuto fluff #bokuto x reader

[daydreaming-in-letters]

Assumptions

10/01/2021

Pairing: Manuel Neuer x fem!reader (3rd person)

Word Count: 6,018

Warnings: rpf, mentions of age gap (not between reader and Manu and nothing illegal) and strong opinions on that, banter, jealousy, infuriation, fluff and cuteness

Summary: The reader finally catches her long time crush Manuel Neuer alone on her uncle's birthday. Things are quickly starting to get heated—sadly it's not the kind of heated she would have liked it to be.

A/N: Most of you probably don't know Manuel Neuer. He is the goalkeeper and captain of Bayern Munich as well as the German National Football Team and every once in a while I find my thoughts drifting towards that adorable and amazingly talented manchild. This story has been sitting in my drafts for far too long and I wasn't sure whether I felt comfortable with publishing it in case it ever got finished. But I found that there is an intolerable lack of Manuel Neuer x reader fics on here, so here it is. I tagged everyone from my general tag list, but I understand if this is not what you signed up for. So sorry in advance and please feel free to ignore this story at your leisure.

Picture found on Pinterest

If you like my story, you are very welcome to like, comment or reblog. Please don’t copy, repost or share my work on other platforms.

It was only a few minutes to midnight and still the dance floor was as filled as ever, an enchanting mixture of young and old people alike. The bass rolled deep in his stomach, making him even queasier than he already was, and the lights, flickering across the mass of moving bodies in sync to the rhythm of the music, didn’t help either.

Suddenly a figure broke through the outer wall of bodies and made her way over to his table. A small smile crawled over her lips, a little shy but genuine, yet he didn’t feel like returning it. He had hoped that she would change her mind upon the disgruntled look on his face, but much to his dismay, she did nothing of the sort and sat down right next to him, just as a waitress passed the table with a tray of colourful shots. The woman next to him stopped her, before she turned to him.

“Care for a drink?”

Did he care for a drink? He yearned for one.

“No, thanks. I’m not really fond of drinking.”

“Shame,” she shrugged, her smile growing a bit wider when she took two shots from the tray anyway. For a second he thought she might actually force him to drink with her, but then she placed down the two glasses in front of herself. Raising her first glass to him, she gulped it down in one swig, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand afterwards.

“Do you care for a dance then?” She nodded over to the dance floor, her eyes and body inviting him to take the offer.

He found that he somehow couldn’t hold her gaze when he answered, “I’m afraid I’m also not very fond of dancing.”

Her forearms resting on the table, she leaned closer, obviously not taking the hint that he just wanted to be left in peace and quiet.

“Then what are you fond of?”

“I think you know pretty well what I’m fond of.” To his own surprise he sounded even harsher than he had attempted to, but the last thing he needed right now was an eager fan trying to engage him in a conversation.

“I do,” she retorted undeterred, “but that’s not what I wanted to know. See, you might not have noticed through all your sulking, but I was actually interested in you as a person, not as a footballer.”

He huffed, although he wasn’t sure she had heard him above the music.

“And you might have noticed that I am not interested in talking about private stuff to complete strangers.”

Sure, he was being massively impolite, but at least he hoped that this would do the trick now. But instead of finally leaving him alone, she shot him an amused look.

“Ooooh, grumpy, aren’t we?”

Now it was him who leaned in closer, making sure she could hear him properly. “Look, it’s nothing personal, okay? I just...it wasn’t such a great evening for me.”

Unintentionally his eyes wandered over to the dance floor for a split second, where a very young, very blonde girl was dancing happily among his teammates and their wives and girlfriends. Cursing himself, he looked over to the woman by his side carefully, hoping she hadn’t noticed. But of course she had, her eyes still fixed on the girl.

“Ah, I see.” She turned to him and the glint in her eyes made his stomach turn. “Puberty is a bitch, eh?”

“Excuse me?” he spat, equal parts bewildered and stunned.

“You heard me alright.”

Who did she think she was? Impertinent woman.

“I don’t think that’s any of your business.” The volume of his voice must have slipped his control a little, as he noticed a group of elderly men standing nearby turn into his direction. Still the woman’s smile never left her face, appeasing the men who turned away again.

“Really? After all I have to sit here with a pissed thirty something man who refuses to acknowledge he let his hormones get the best of him.”

“Whoa! Okay, first of all, it was you who decided to come and sit at this table and second, again, none of your goddamn business.”

Her answer was a simple grin, still not fazed by his anger in the slightest. It almost felt as if she was enjoying to get him riled up.

“You’re right.”

“And?”

“What do you mean ‘and’?”

He rolled his eyes heavily. Why couldn’t she just leave?

“You know, that phrase usually goes with an apology. Like ‘You’re right. Sorry I assumed you’re having a mid-life crisis and bang a chick that is 15 years your junior to boost your fragile ego.’”

“Do you?”

Inhaling deeply, he tried to calm himself a little. After all, he couldn’t afford to yell at her again, not that he didn’t want to, but causing even more unwanted attention was not in his plans for tonight.

“I didn't say that.”

“Well actually,” she looked at him triumphantly, “you kind of did. I never said you were having a midlife crisis or that you need her to boost your ego. Those were your words. And seeing that my assumptions caused a reaction like that, I’m afraid I can’t really say I’m sorry either.”

All right, that was it. Enough was enough.

“Look, I think I have an assumption for you too, lady. I’m starting to assume that you only came over here to rile me up further. And guess what, mission completed. So why don’t you do us both a favour and head off to pester someone else now?”

She was quiet for a moment and for the first time, the cheeky smile left her beautiful, burgundy lips. He had expected her to be a bit shaken at least, maybe even as pissed as himself, and yet the next words were spoken with such dignity that he couldn’t help but admire her a little for it.

“Oh, I would love to say you’re right again, but I’m afraid I can’t this time. And since we seem to have warmed up to each other quite a bit by now, I feel it’s okay to be completely honest with you.” She paused a second, simply for the effect, he guessed and her warm eyes never left his. “I came to sit with you because you looked miserable. Still do, by the way. And I thought you might need an actual grown up to talk to. But it seems I was wrong. You’re just a pouty manchild, like the rest of them.”

She waved her arm, pointing over at the dancing crowd of his friends and their spouses. His eyes followed her gesture and when he laid eyes on the heart of the matter, a hot flush of rage began to swirl through his veins, making his hands clench into fists. Fully set on giving her a piece of his mind, not caring who might hear him at this point, he turned to her again. But the familiar figure that had somehow entered the picture without his notice made him stop in his tracks.

“Here you are, sweetie.” The man cooed, laying his large hand on her shoulder in a protective gesture. “I almost got the feeling you were hiding from me since I made you promise to dance with me tonight.”

She twisted her slender neck to look up at his gentle face, her attention making him smile sweetly at her.

“You know I’d never do that to you, Uncle Hans, especially not on your birthday. I just thought your no. 1 goalkeeper here was in need of some mature company, but clearly he is perfectly happy with the way things are.”

Bewilderment flickered behind the coach’s gaze as he looked between his niece and one of his best players and Manuel was sure that this might not be the last time they would speak about this matter.

“So then, may I have that dance now, sweetheart?”

“With pleasure.” Manuel watched almost transfixed as she gracefully took her uncle’s hand and stood up. It was only now that he noticed how perfectly her dress showed off her voluptuous curves. He was almost certain that she would leave without another word when once again she proved him wrong. Turning on her heels, she grabbed the remaining shot and gulped it down in one large swig before she looked down at him, almost as regal as a queen.

“Have a pleasant evening, Mister Neuer. I’m sorry I can’t say I enjoyed our conversation more. Oh, and just in case you should ever feel in need to talk to a grown up, don’t call.”

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

She could still feel his piercing look on her back as Hansi led her through the crowd and away from him. They had just begun to dance when the song changed and a much slower tune echoed through the large room. With a smug grin, her uncle pulled her closer, bringing his hand to the small of her back. Cheek to cheek he swayed her to the beat and she could feel that her mind was almost beginning to slow down, when he decided to pick up a conversation.

“Will you tell me what that was all about?”

She bit her lip like a little girl that was about to be scolded. “Do I have to?”

He chuckled deeply, the vibration rumbling against her chest and she could easily imagine the self-satisfied grin on his face.

“I’m certainly not going to force you. It’s just, you know, I always thought you kind of liked him.”

Instantly, she could feel her face heat up. How could he possibly know that?

“True. Liked, as in past tense. And besides, it’s not that I actually know him, personally, I mean. You could perhaps say I admire his talent, at most. And he also may be kind of easy on the eyes.”

She had become more and more quiet while she spoke, merely mumbling the last sentence. But he had heard her nonetheless, her silliness making his lips twitch in amusement.

“Hm. I clearly remember your aunt begging me to invite him over for a barbecue party last summer, telling me that you wouldn’t shut up about his quiet reserve, his amazing performance on the field and his stunning smile. Sadly he didn’t have time.”

She gulped audibly, tensing up a little in his arms, which made him enjoy their little talk even more. “So, what changed your mind?”

“He did,” she said a little too quickly, before she sighed so heavily that her uncle almost regretted bringing this topic up after all. “It’s just, I don’t understand his choice in women. I mean, he could choose literally anyone, so why her? I mean, she clearly doesn’t make him happy.”

“And how do you know that? You have spoken to him for what? Like five minutes?” He turned them around, making her face the gloomy goalie once more, before he went on. “I might be wrong, sweetheart, but I think you’re just jealous.”

Over his shoulder her gaze met Manuel’s for a split second before his eyes shot to his right, where the blonde teenager stepped into the picture, blocking him from view. She sat down on his lap, her arms dragging around his neck possessively, as her lips met his in a feverish kiss. Averting her gaze immediately, her eyes darkened and her heart clenched heavily in her chest.

“If by jealous you mean disenchanted, you’re right.”

Her bitter words made him loosen his grip on her so that he could see her face, and the hurt in her eyes pained him more than he cared for.

“I know you probably won’t believe me, but he really is a good person.”

She scoffed while her incredulous eyes landed on her uncle’s soft, blue orbs. “Well, he certainly hid that pretty well.”

He gave her a tight lipped smile. “I think he’s just lost his way a little at the moment.”

“So you think I’m right then?”

The excited sparkle in her eyes made him regret his honest words a little.

“I didn’t say that.” He protested strongly. In the end it was not for him to judge his players’ private lives. “After all he is a grown man and he can decide for himself.” He could see her face fall again and so he was quick to add, “Nevertheless, I don’t think you’re completely wrong either.”

He was very pleased to see that his words had caused a small smile to crawl back to her pretty lips. He almost felt like a proud father and when she finally leaned back in a bit closer, her forgiving gesture almost made him a bit bold.

“So, uhm, one more question, sweetheart. In the unlikely event that he should after all need a grown woman to talk to, can I give him your number?”

“Certainly not,” she insisted with a steady voice, but when she looked at him, the adorable grin on her face left no doubt that this was the biggest lie she had ever told.

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

Manuel was furious as he watched her leave towards the dance floor with the coach. How could she dare call him out like that and then leave without giving him the chance to set her straight? His eyes fixed on her, he watched as Flick pulled her closer, his eyes following her uncle’s hand to the small of her back. Being the gentleman he was, his hand had found the only spot on her back that was actually covered by the dark red fabric of her dress. And for a second he imagined what it might actually feel like to let his hand wander upwards until it covered her bare skin. Or maybe he could let it slip down a few inches, until his fingers would grasp the soft flesh of her behind. He had just been able to fully picture the exact feeling of her body pressed up to his when he could feel the man who actually held her in his arms catch his indecent look on his niece’s back. Immediately he sat up straight, averting his gaze, completely missing the amused smile on the other man’s face, and when he turned back to face him, he almost lost it when he found her sparkling eyes instead.

He was still trying to figure out what had happened, when he heard a familiar voice calling him.

“Hey, babe.” The high pitched noise made him flinch and instinctively his eyes shot to his right, just in time to pull his arms away before she slumped down onto his lap clumsily. She laid it on thickly as her arms wrapped around his neck.

“I missed you on the dance floor, honey bun. Why don’t you come dance with me?”

And before he even had the chance to answer, her lips crashed down on his mouth almost painfully, her tongue forcing his lips to open. The stench of alcohol filled his mouth and he pushed her drunken form off of him determinedly. Before she even had the chance to protest, he lifted her up and placed her in his chair.

“I don’t think dancing is a good idea in your condition.” She glared at him, but then she seemed to have forgotten what for and her lips turned up into a sheepish smile.

“Whatever you say, babe.”

“Look, why don’t you just stay here and I get you a nice, big glass of water to sober you up a little?”

She began to nod, but then her eyes lost focus und she stared past him at god knows what.

“All right, I’ll be back in a sec. Don’t go anywhere.”

Quickly he made his way over to the counter and ordered a whole bottle of water, when he felt the slap of a hand on his left shoulder.

“Wow, you look even more frustrated than after our knock out at the World Cup in 2018. What happened?”

“Don’t ask.” He sighed as he turned around to face his friend. Manuel hoped that he would accept his wish, but when he saw the apologetic look on Thomas’ face, he instantly knew that he wouldn’t drop the topic.

“Too late. I just did.”

With a dramatic roll of his eyes, the next words were spoken more to himself than to his teammate.

“Great, just what I need. Another pain in my ass.”

“Another? Who was the first then?” Obviously Thomas had taken no offence and sounded a bit too cheerful for Manuel’s liking.

“She.”

He looked over at the dance floor, where the impertinent woman was just sending her uncle the most beautiful, cheeky grin he had ever seen.

“Who? Y/N?” his friend asked incredulously.

Y/N. So that was her name.

“You know that annoying woman?”

“I do, although I can’t really say she’s annoying. Met her at the coach’s home once. She seemed rather sweet and intelligent to me.”

“She certainly hid that pretty well,” Manuel growled under his breath, earning him a surprised frown from Thomas.

“Are you gonna stand here and stare daggers at her or are you gonna tell me what she did to make you throw a fit?”

“She approached me out of nowhere to tell me that I’m dating a teenager to compensate my inability to commit to a partner on eye level.”

Thomas let his words sink in for a while.

“That doesn’t really sound like her. I mean, what reason would she have to come at you like that? She doesn’t even know you.”

Manuel sighed, thinking about the way she had somehow coaxed the statements from him instead of making them herself.

“Well, she might have phrased it differently,” he admitted meekly. That seemed to spark Thomas’ interest even further and he could feel his expectant look on him, pressing him to finally tell the whole truth.

“Actually she didn’t say it like that. She only made an allusion and made me somehow say those things myself.”

“Mhm. And exactly what allusion did she make?”

Manuel rolled his eyes again, his ego still fighting to repeat her words out loud.

”She said puberty was a bitch, clearly hinting at the fact that she thought my girlfriend was too young for me.”

He hadn’t even finished his sentence when Thomas’ roaring laughter filled the air.

“Now that does sound more like her.”

He needed a bit to contain himself when he suddenly looked up at Manuel with an unusually serious expression on his face.

“And I have to admit, Manu, she kind of has a fair point there.”

“What?”

Manuel could not believe his ears.

“Come on, man. It’s what everyone thinks. She just said it out loud.”

“Fuck you.”

But instead of rising to his expletive, Thomas just looked at him sympathetically. Pushing himself off of the counter, he pat his shoulder in an attempt to encourage him a little, ready to leave him to his self-denial.

But then he stopped. “You know, I personally didn’t have a problem with it. You’re an adult, you can make your own choices. As long as you’re happy, right? But the truth is, Manu, I don’t think you are. Not anymore.”

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

“See, I told you he wouldn’t be here. No need for all the panic beforehand.”

She narrowed her eyes at her cousin, shooting her a dirty look.

“Yeah, and I hope it’ll stay that way. Oh, and for the record: I wasn’t panicking at all, it was just you and your sister’s sudden eagerness to lure me here that got me suspicious and nervous in the first place.”

“We didn’t lure you here,” her other cousin piped up a little offendedly. “We simply wanted to spend some time with you. Come on, it’s been what, like 4 months now? Since you moved to Munich three years ago, we hardly get to see you anymore.”

“You and our father,” her sister added quickly. “So it seemed the best option to kill two birds with one stone and bring you along. After all it’s called a family day, right?”

Y/N sighed, not fully convinced, but finally ready to let the topic go.

“Right. Let’s just hope for your sakes that there will be no surprises today that might prove your guilt after all.”

“How are my girls doing?” she heard a familiar voice from behind her back, turning towards her favourite uncle with a beaming smile. What she didn’t see, however, was the brief look that was exchanged between her cousins as soon as she had turned her back, proving exactly what she had suspected all along.

“We’re good, dad. Actually, we’re more than good, we’re excellent,” the older cousin chirped.

“Great.” He paused a moment, but it was clear that he had more to say. Rocking back and forth on his feet, he looked from one woman to the other. “So,” he began carefully, before a huge Cheshire grin spread across his face. “I hope you all reserved a dance for me tonight.”

“Oh, no, daddy, not again.”

“Please, don’t make us do this.”

“There will be dancing here? If you had told me that beforehand, I certainly wouldn’t have come.”

“Of course there will be dancing. I thought that was obvious.” He had to try very hard to look a little slighted, while he actually drew a horrendous amount of amusement from their antics. “Remember, girls, we have a tradition to uphold. Whenever there is some dancing at a party, you have to reserve at least one dance for me. That’s the rule.”

And with that he turned and left them on their own again.

“Ugh, why does he always have to do that to us?” her younger cousin whined.

“Oh stop it, silly. You’re the one who likes it the most and everyone knows.”

⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️⚽️

She had been the first to pay tribute to the family tradition and after a very exhausting Discofox dance session, luckily one of her cousins had taken over from her. Kicking off her heels, she welcomed the feel of the cool grass underneath the soles of her feet. Walking over to one of the empty tables, she slumped down heavily into one of the comfortable looking chairs. With a contented smile she let herself fall back against the backrest, closing her eyes and breathing in the mild air of the warm summer night.

“Care for a drink?”

His voice made her jump, sitting up straight immediately, eyes shooting wide open. And there he was, two shot glasses in his large hands and grinning down at her, obviously very satisfied with the slight scare he had just given her. He looked amazing, the smug bastard, in his casual jeans and white shirt, two buttons undone, topped with a sporty black jacket. She highly doubted that she had ever seen a finer man in her entire life. Luckily that didn’t make her lose her sharp tongue.

“And here I am thinking that you weren’t fond of alcohol. What happened?”

He smiled sheepishly, only one corner of his mouth tugged up, when he handed her her drink. He took his time, grabbing a chair and positioning it opposite hers, then sitting down carefully, not wanting to spill the shot all over his chest. She had already come to think that he was trying to avoid her question after all, when he locked eyes with her and finally began to speak.

“Hm. It’s been a while since I last saw you. A lot of things happened, you know. Maybe it was finally time for me to grow up.”

“Hear, hear.” With a mischievous smile she raised her glass. “To your coming of age, then.”

He rolled his eyes playfully. “If you insist.”

His magnificent blue eyes never left hers while they chinked glasses, and a second later she could feel the more than welcome liquid moisturising her suddenly very dry mouth.

With a thud, their glasses landed on the table, both of them chuckling like giddy children when their eyes found each other again and then, for a moment, there was nothing but silence. The world seemed to have zoned out, leaving behind nothing but his aquamarine orbs and the wild smile on his face.

Just gradually, the world seemed to set back in again. There was the monotonous clitter of the crickets, overlaid by the muffled sound of the music that was carried over by a soft breeze, and loudest of all she could hear the beating of her own heart against her chest.

“What else has changed now that you are a proper adult?” she heard herself ask, not having the faintest idea where those words came from and how the hell she managed to deliver them so smoothly when her whole body seemed to have gotten out of control.

He took a quick look over his shoulder, his thumb pointing in the same direction.

“If you mean the dancing, I’m still not very fond of that.” Her face must have fallen a little because he was quick to add, “Except...”

“Except what?”

His eyes landed back on hers and she almost choked on her hitching breath.

“Except I think I could make an exception for the right partner.”

From the corner of her eye she registered a movement between their bodies, but she was hesitant to let her view stray from his captivating appearance. At last it was something in his eyes that looked at her expectantly which finally made her snap out of her trance.

Looking down at his hand sheepishly, it took her a while to fathom that he was actually asking her to dance with him.

Slowly her eyes wandered up to his again, asking a silent question, which he answered with an almost imperceptible rise of his eyebrows. And before she knew what she was doing, she laid her hand in his and let him pull her to her feet.

He had just turned towards the source of the music, when she suddenly held him back.

“No, wait.”

With a puzzled look he did what she asked of him and let her twist him back around.

“Why don’t we just stay here? The music is loud enough anyway.”

A gentle smile curved his lips. “Sure, if that’s what you want.”

She nodded softly, her teeth biting down on her lip in excitement.

And before she knew what was happening, she found herself secured against his chest by his firm grip. It felt like being pressed up to a hot furnace which she would usually have appreciated any other time, but on a sweltry night like this and in a place she had wanted to be in for so long, it was pure torture. And as if this wasn’t bad enough already, his strong fingers pressed down on her lower back, threatening to scorch her even through the fabric of her blouse as he pulled her an impossible inch further into him. He was so close now that she could sense the heat radiating off his cheek as well, bringing along a whiff of his enticing scent and she couldn’t help but close her eyes as she inhaled deeply and her head began to spin. It was odd, but her mind was completely blank by now, blank except for one thought and her lips spread into a blissful smile as she repeated it in her head again and again, relishing in the feeling that if either of them moved just the tiniest bit, their cheeks would inevitably touch.

Slowly they moved and despite the unhurried shift of their bodies her heart was beating so violently that she thought it pondered jumping out of her chest to meet his. There was no chance he wouldn’t be able to tell from the way he held her, and when he finally drew away a tad to look at her, she fully expected him to call her out for it.

But he didn’t. Instead his sinfully soft lips curled into a reassuring smile before he spoke.

“You were right.”

“I beg your pardon?”

A cute chuckle escaped his mouth, leaving the corners of his eyes crinkled in the most beautiful display of amusement.

“About what you said at your uncle’s birthday party.”

“Oh.” She had said a lot that evening, words that she had come to regret later and remembering them now set her cheeks on fire. “About what exactly?”

“About everything,” he admitted without hesitation, yet he couldn’t hide the spark of misery that flitted across his sea blue orbs. “Didn’t take me very long after that night to finally see things clearly.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” It was true. Although she knew that she probably sounded like a madwoman after everything she had confronted him with back then, at least the frown on his forehead seemed to confirm that. “I truly am. I really would have liked to see you happy.” Even if it was with that girl.

She was glad she had managed to keep that last bit to herself. She had no idea why she had said that she was sorry in the first place, but judging by the wild smile on his face it must have been the right words after all.

“Well, I certainly am happier now than I was that night.” He shrugged. “So, thank you, I guess.”

She huffed. “For what? Making absolutely inappropriate remarks on your relationship? I shouldn’t have done that. I know that now. So it should be me who is sorry here, don’t you think?”

She could feel his fingertips press into the soft flesh of her back.

“Don’t be. I guess you were exactly what I needed.” It took him a second before he realised what he had just said. “I mean it. It was exactly what I needed.”

His eyes snapped to the left and she was thankful that he couldn’t see the grin that decorated her lips as she watched the treacherous colour creep into his cheeks, spreading all the way to his ears. For a while he didn’t say another word, probably still trying feverishly to figure out a way to take back his slip of the tongue. And when he finally spoke, she wished he hadn’t.

“There is one thing though that I have gone over and over in my mind. But no matter how long I think about it, it just won’t make sense.”

She already knew that she wouldn’t like where this conversation was heading now, but she found herself asking nonetheless.

“And what is that?”

His head turned without a warning as his eyes searched her gaze and for the blink of an eye his lips came so close that she couldn’t say if they had actually brushed along hers or if her needy heart had just imagined their brief touch. He didn’t answer her question right away, his breath blending with her own in the narrow space between their faces and suddenly she wasn’t so sure anymore if she had really only dreamed up their fleeting foretaste of a kiss.

“Why did you do it?” Panic rose in her chest. She hadn’t done anything. After all it had been him who had turned his head. But as he went on, she realised that he wasn’t referring to that at all and the suffocating distress eased away bit by bit. “I mean, we didn’t even know each other when you decided to come at me like that.”

Now it was her who had to avert her gaze.

“I think I don’t really want to answer that question.”

“Why not?” His voice was so soft and gentle, making it even harder to answer him.

“Because the truth might be kind of ugly.”

“But the outcome wasn’t, so I think I’ll take that risk.”

Her feet stopped their mechanical movements as a violent shiver ran down her spine. So this would be it then. It would be over before it had really begun. Pity. But at least she would have the memory of these few minutes, of his genuine smile and the way he had held her tight against his chest. With a deep sigh she bid their daydream of a dance goodbye.

“I could tell you now that it was for some noble reason, but at the bottom of it all I think it was nothing more than jealousy that drew me to your table that night. I had been unable to ignore you all evening — ignore her. The way she behaved like a spoiled brat, drinking and losing control, not caring in the least that she not only made a fool out of herself but of you as well. God, I hated her in that moment, for having everything I ever wanted and riding roughshod over it. And when I saw you sitting there, looking so utterly crestfallen, somehow I couldn’t help it.”

An undefinable silence settled between them and the only sound that remained was the beat of the music wafting over from the party that went on behind his back. The faint whisper of the melody seemed to push itself up between them and tear them further apart, exactly as she had expected. And just like the bass, her heartbeat slowed until it died away completely.

It was over and everything she wanted to do was let go of his hand so she could do him the favour of leaving, but to her astonishment he refused to set her free. And rather then releasing her from his grip, he squeezed her hand, briefly and just once, but it was enough for her to find the courage and face him. But instead of finding a frown or a scornful pair of eyes, his blinding smile made her forget to breathe for a moment.

“I had hoped you might say that.” And with that he pulled her into his arms again and continued swaying her to the music as if she had not just revealed her repulsive self to him. Her brain still a step behind, she couldn’t do anything but stare up at him stupidly.

“What? Why?”

“Isn’t that obvious?” And when she shook her head like a petrified imbecile, an amused chuckle rumbled through his chest. “Because even though your behaviour was extremely infuriating, I have to admit that I like you. And asking you out on a date will be so much easier now that I know you like me too.”

With a violent jolt, the useless muscle inside her chest started to beat again, its heavy pounding filling her ears with white noise as the world around her started to spin. Unable to stop the motion, she felt herself leaning in, her nails digging into the undoubtedly expensive fabric of his jacket as she desperately tried to gain control over her unruly body.

“So, will you go out with me?”

It seemed like an eternity until she finally mustered the strength for a mechanical nod. Neither had she noticed in her struggle that he had stopped dancing, nor that the priceless look on her face had made his eyes and heart go soft for her.

“Great. That’s settled then. When are you free?”

It was only when he took a step back, taking his warmth with him as his hand slipped out of hers, that she snapped out of her trance.

“Now.”

“Now? Like right now?”

More like now as in before she could screw everything up again.

“Yes, why not? I know you have a busy schedule, so finding a date when we are both free might be tough. And above that, it is a beautiful summer evening.”

Had all those words really fallen from her mouth right now? Embarrassed about her lack of composure, her hand flew up to her mouth, making him smile again.

“I guess you have a fair point there.” And just like that, his hand was there again, fingers entwining slowly with hers like they had never been meant for anyone else. “All right then, let’s get out of here.”

***

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[fanficwritersinterviewed]

ITWW, shey

<<This post is a part of a longer conversation about fanfic writers, how they view fanfic, and their writing process. All views are the fanfic writer’s own, and whatever fanfic they choose to write is entirely their own decision. No judgment value will be placed on fic content. These conversations are meant to provide insight for other fanfic writers in whatever stage they are at in their writing life>>

In the Weeds Wednesday (with Shey, @shey-elizabeth​ )

So let’s talk process. When you start a fic what happens first for you? It depends on the type of fic. Short things (which tends to be anything less than 10k for me) just kind of happen. I usually have a vague outline in my head, but otherwise they do what they do. Long fic usually starts with a lot of brainstorming, followed by a vague outline that gets added to as I go. I typically have a list of scenes and plot points that gets fleshed out as I start writing and figure out who the characters are going to be and what their backstory is in this fic. I usually have a pretty solid plan by the time I finish the first scene or two, but other things definitely sneak in as I go.

You said before that you write about 2k and then edit for a long time after that. What's the typical rhythm of all that for you? Do you keep to a schedule? I try not to have a schedule since I've found that makes things less enjoyable. I do have an idea in my head of when I'd like to post the next chapter of my WIPs, but that's as far as I get. I'm also not someone who needs to post as soon as I finish. I'm much more likely to sit on a fic for a month or more and post it when I feel good about it.

I've been told my writing process is a lot like drafting? I get words on the page, and then I rewrite them until they do what I want them to. I might write an entire scene and change the dialogue four times (including the meaning of the conversation) until I get to something that sounds right. I also go back and add layers. I'll fill in emotion, inner monologue, and movement with each pass through until it feels complete. There's a lot of rearranging and adding. Not usually much subtracting. My goal is usually to get the scene down so I don't forget where I want to go, and then fix it so it actually works the way I intended.

This last pass through is usually adjusting word choice, making sure I'm not repeating phrases, and checking that the dialogue flows.

What part of the writing process brings you pleasure? Writing? Sculpting it in edits? Honestly, the actual writing is the hardest part and the part I have to gear myself up for. Writing will probably always be hard for me, but the finished product makes it worth it. I really enjoy the sculpting of it (LOVE that term! I'm totally stealing it, thank you!) and of course, the “having written” (I write most of my fic so I can read it, after all!). I do adore the comments from readers, too. They make the stress so worth it! My favorite part though, is getting the doc back from my beta and finding out if what I wrote actually worked. I love that feedback and seeing how the suggested edits make everything come together. It's like magic and so satisfying.

What's the hardest thing you've ever attempted with your writing and why was it challenging? Honestly, the hardest thing has been finishing my first fic. It was supposed to be a mid-length, self-indulgent, smutty little getting-together fic. And it's all of that, except the mid-length part! I started it before I really learned anything about the writing process, and I've grown so much as a writer in the two and a half years since then that the first few chapters feel almost unrecognizable to me. I've gone back and edited them (there were some grammar errors that I just couldn't ignore!) but I know the second half is a lot stronger than the first. That made it difficult to keep working on, and it sort of became this looming monster in my head. I started to feel like it was never going to be done. I actually stepped away from it for most of 2021, even though I only had a chapter left, and I knew it wasn't actually a difficult chapter to write. Every time I opened the doc, I would just stare at it and it felt completely impossible. 

What I ended up doing was focusing on my other long fic– “Sugarcoated”– and getting that story done. I convinced myself that if I could finish it I could undo this block I had about finishing the other long fic. It seems like it worked, because I finally finished “Sugarcoated” in October, and that took so much pressure off. Now that I can look at it and go "finishing long fics is possible! It's a thing that I've done!" it's given me confidence to actually sit down and get my first fic done. 

What's the best piece of writing advice you ever got and how have you applied it to your own writing? Oh man, I’ve gotten so much fantastic advice! Everything from technical (try not to start sentences with “ing” words) to process advice like what to do if you get stuck (go back seven sentences, or skip to the next scene). Probably my favorite piece of writing advice was about how to avoid “puppet syndrome” in my smut scenes. That’s the thing where the whole scene is just action without the emotions attached. You aren’t getting inside the character’s heads enough and the sex becomes “insert tab A into slot B”. It ends up feeling flat, or disconnected, and you aren’t sure why. Making sure the characters’ emotions and reactions are present in the scene is a big focus for me. 

I wrote a super smutty one-shot recently that had the working title “Stetopher Filth” and I got a comment asking how I was able to write filthy things that were also so sweet. That made my day. That fic has some heavy kinks in it, so it was extra important to me that the readers saw how much the characters cared for each other. I wanted the emotions front and center every step of the way. That comment told me I was successful!

Haha, that’s great! “Puppet Syndrome.” I usually say it feels like having two dolls and mashing them together, but now I’ll think of muppets, thank you for that horrifically wonderful thought!

Alright, lastly: say something nice about your own writing. Something nice about my own writing… I actually like most of my fics a lot. There's some great advice out there that says "write for yourself." I've always written things because I wanted to read them, and I think that that makes it easier to feel good about the results!

#fanfic writers interviewed #in the weeds wednesday #shey #fanfic #writing

[brockachu]

hm hm fucked around and got emo about pate laine so i wrote out the whole narrative for bucky to explain why i’m so invested in his success + wouldn’t shut up about seeing him score. under the cut, of course

ok so like — patrik/pate/patty laine. everyone knows him as the sharpshooter with the funky personal style, right? despite that, he’s actually a soft-spoken, kinda shy kid who mostly keeps to himself. he just Really likes clothes/fashion & personal style.

he’s this big, tall weedy dude. he started his hockey career as a goalie (that tracks so much with the personality), but his dad convinced him to switch to forward in middle school. he debuted in finland’s top league at only age 16. he was ranked really high in draft projections & played super well at the 2015 WJC, and ultimately got drafted 2nd overall in 2016 by the jets.

while the finnish Liiga is a really high level pro league, his lack of north american experience drew quick scrutiny in such a small but high pressure market as winnipeg. add his reclusiveness, awkwardness in english, & the very different outward appearance ‘for a hockey player’. plus some partially founded streakiness with scoring that earned him a reputation for a ‘difficult personality’ (i for one think pinning a player for streakiness says you have a lack of depth scoring that makes you over-depend on certain talents which then also creates a tougher environment to work in, but hey, i’m biased).

point is — the jets market was hard on him year in & year out and he was Always on trade rumor lists (boy why are so many of my favs treated like this), until finally last season, they traded him to columbus.

just prior to that, he had been recovering from a wrist injury that contributed to a severely hole-ridden jets roster in the 2020 playoff bubble. he played the first game of the 2021 half-season with the jets then was traded while on ir for another injury (speculation was that he also had never quite gotten 100% on the wrist).

when pate arrived in cbj, torts was still the head coach. torts & his coaching team are of course known for being ‘tough love’, which as you can imagine is not pate’s jam, especially when he finally got out from under the winnipeg microscope. most notably at one point he got in a recorded argument with an assistant coach on the bench mid-game & was sat the rest of the game. he gets a little quieter after that game but ultimately still plays his game & does moderately ok (it was a slump season for him, but a lot of commentary has since given him some grace between the trade, the coaching staff, the tumult of the cbj roster overall, & the fact we never really cleared up when he was 100% back from injury). at the end of the season, torts finally gets fired, cbj make a bunch of moves that essentially blows up the roster to emphasize the babies, & pate signs a one year extension to remain a cbj. the presumption is that he’s giving the team another year to prove he fits here & to pay him handily. otherwise, he’ll be a ufa for the first time in summer 2022. (he is for the record still only 23 years old)

to open this season (21-22), he seemed to be doing really well — he came in healthy, started with 10pts in 9 games. and then he had a muscle strain that put him out for 6 weeks. and while recovering from that, it was reported that a family emergency occurred that would require him to go back to finland — turns out his father had died suddenly & unexpectedly.

this goes back to pate actually being a shy dude who keeps to himself — he’s really close with his family & he used to say his best friends were his dad & sasha barkov (florida panther who pate grew up playing with in finland). pate has requested minimal media coverage about his father’s death & only really addressed it in one press conference when he returned from injury at the end of december.

while i’ve seen him express emotion before in interviews, mostly frustration or impatience or dry amusement with the press, this was the first time i’ve seen him just holding back tears, voice rough, hood up, exhausted. in a fucked up way, it’s also the kindest i’ve ever seen him treated by the press corps. i cannot state enough how often he has been called a diva, a flop, a bust, stand-offish, inconsistent, & just any number of things to imply his personality is ‘bad’ and the core problem of any team ‘failures’ around him.

we later found out from pate’s own admission that his father was in hospital and missed his last game before going on ir — that was the only of his games pate’s dad never watched.

in the time since, he’s scored 31pts in 26 games, including a recent 11-game point streak in late january through february. in that time he had 3 consecutive games with 2 goals (2 of those games were back to backs) and one hattrick. and he is now on a 5-game point streak.

so yeah that’s pate and at least lightly why i’d commit minor crimes for him.

((caveats: this skims over his stuff w/ finnish press bc i kinda forgot at the time i drafted the rant + that was part was in the winnipeg part of the timeline. i am aware he has been contentious to outright petty in finnish about the jets org. any long-time followers also know i love a bitch, so you’re not gonna see me pressed bout a less than graceful 21-year-old foreign pro athlete who was heavily scrutinized by a well-known harsh canadian hockey market. i also laugh when petey snipes van media or millsy snidely references fanbase controversies. 🤷🏻‍♀️ yes, i also know about the irresponsible driving. it sucks & i don’t condone it.))

#aily talks #patrik laine #sorry y’all but my first ever fav was ryan miller. mr ‘i just wanna say what a pos lucic is’ #if you don’t think i will fully adopt a mean lil man you do not know me #narratives