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dontcallmeeds · 2 years

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I saw a twitter thread that was giving reasons for Nancy Wheeler being a lesbian and I gotta say, I agree. At least that Nancy is NOT straight. The way she interacts with Barb….dude, do you know how many of the stairs conversations (from season one before Barb disappears) I’ve had with friends who were secretly seeing me??? The whole “this isn’t you” after Nancy lies about where she’s going and the way she reacts with her facial expressions…..bro, they’ve kissed before. This has been said a million times here and otherwise since season one.

But with the level of grief and guilt she goes through in season two, I’m seeing that right now in myself as someone who just had one of their best friends pass away suddenly who was also an ex. The whole “bullshit” Stancy Halloween fight could be chalked up to grief and liking Jonathan sure, but I think it’s way more than that. I think she’s calling everything bullshit including herself because she lost the one person who saw her, someone she loved more than just platonically.

Then season three is mostly just her fighting with Jonathan if you really think about it, because she wants to be more than just a sandwich girl at Hawkins Post. Someone Barb would be proud of. We only see her really happy with Jonathan in season three when they wake up late and she sneaks out and the soft moment they have at the end when he’s leaving. Other than that they’re either fighting with each other or fighting monsters. Robin calls her a “priss,” but before Steve she was just kind of a…nerd. Like Robin. Maybe they ran in the same circles? We know they don’t know each other in person, at least Nancy doesn’t know HER.

FOLLOW ME HERE: What if Robin knew Barb?? What if Barb confided in her that she had feelings for Nancy, but that Nancy was dating Steve and we know how hard Robin goes for her friends so she just made this assumption that Nancy is a priss????

Then season four of course, we see Nancy not going to California. She’s frustrated that Jonathan wouldn’t be coming and she stayed for the basketball game for her front page news right?? Why didn’t she take another flight hmmm??? And we think she’s jealous of Robin, but what if she was jealous of Steve??? Because we don’t really have indication that Steve and Nancy have spent much time around each other since summer ‘85…but Robin and Nancy go to school together. Robin is in band which means they’re in the same room *hypothetically* for the important games that Nancy needs to document. We don’t know how many games Steve went to besides the one, he could’ve been working on some of those games or on dates. So ipso facto, Robin and Nancy have (probably) been in the same room more than Steve and Nancy….why would she suddenly be jealous of ROBIN???

And you can see her genuinely enjoying being around Robin after her monologue at the psych ward when she was being “annoyed” and “on edge” with her before that. I don’t see that as “oh well she started considering her a friend” I think she had a crush, she was on edge because she had lost Barb and didn’t want to feel that way about another girl. But the monologue relaxes her because she realized Robin is just as unhinged as she is, but in a different way. Because Nancy Wheeler is IMPULSIVE. She’s smarter than hell, but she is so careless with her own safety.

Also every time the Bylers shippers contrast the Wheeler siblings really they’re just giving us Nancy Wheeler is gay proof too. Because look at their similar behaviors. They fight and bicker in a way that says “i know what you are, NO I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE”

NOT VERY STRAIGHT IF YOU ASK ME.

Also, while I now understand my attraction to men is because I was a queer trans dude the entire time, I used to think it was comphet. But everything I feel about men is different than the way Nancy feels about men. It feels forced, it feels like she thinks she HAS to have a boyfriend and HAS to force a real connection with them. COMP. MOTHERFUCKIN. HET.

In conclusion, for the love of god, let Nancy Wheeler kiss girls. Natalia wants it, the fans want it. Give us a SMOOCH.

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catkin-morgs-kookaburralover · 5 months

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a part of me just wants to go through with it because at least if i fail i'll probably end up in the psych ward again but also. i need to get worse. it isn't bad enough yet. people aren't really concerned and they have no need to be. i'm probably making it all up. and God help me but i want the medication again. i will not ask my doctor i will not get access to addictive anxiety medications. i swear i could get addicted so easily. sometimes it's hard to stop thinking about that kind of thing - sometimes my mind goes round and round and round and all it says is drugs, drugs, drugs. i swear i won't. i have enough vices already. but it seems so stupid to even suggest it. i'm a 'good kid'. the other week i wore shorts to the youth thing and sat next to a girl and i know she will have seen the scars. it was terrifying. but all i am is an attention seeker. that's literally what's going on here. people tell me i'm 'brave' and 'tough' and 'stubborn' and they don't realise how easily i fold at any kind of pressure anywhere anytime. a small setback comes up and my first reaction is to pull out my trusty coping mechanisms, otherwise known as 'cutting' and 'starving'. there is strength in resisting the urge to hurt oneself, and i don't have it. i don't resist it. nor do i particularly care. i flip between this is what i deserve and nothing matters so why shouldn't i do this anyway. i have so far managed to avoid, largely, trying to give myself a concussion. that was how the self harm started, actually; cutting is less injurious than beating out one's brains on the wall. my doctor is happy with my progress, medically. i suppose i should be glad. i feel like i'm dying, slowly or otherwise. and somehow i hate myself more for dying slowly than doing it quickly. but hey, i'm still here. that counts for something, right?

#personal #puddleglum hours #might delete later #tw sh #tw ed #tw suicide

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jaozendry · 1 year

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Robby Keene x M!Reader: Meeting

Pairing: Robby Keene x M!Reader

PART 2

Warnings: psych ward mentions, juvie mentions, bullying, suicide attempts mentions

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

Summary: After getting out of the psych ward, you meet Robby, who's also getting out of juvie. You decide to pick him up after a taxi runs late.

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"45 minutes late?!" a blond boy screams on his phone.

The both of you are in front a juvenile detention center. Your car was making weird sounds and wasn't working properly, so you decided to park in front of this very center. Unfortunately for you, that was the last straw for your vehicule: it decided now was a convenient time to stop working entirely. You spy this boy, who looks like he smashed his face into a wall on multiple occasions. He looks a little older than you, but not by much. That's all you know about him so far. Wondering if you should help him, you decide to wait and hear more of what he has to say on the phone.

"I'm not waiting 45 minutes and still paying you! You know what? Cancel it!" He angrily hangs up the phone and sighs his life out.

Your generosity gets the better of you and you decide to walk up to him. It should be fine, you're around the same age range. Maybe the two of you will connect, right?

You walk towards him, hands in your pockets and staring at the floor to avoid his seemingly harsh gaze.

"Hey, I just heard what you were saying on the phone and I... uh..."

The boy looks at you, tilting his head, wondering if you're insane. Your shyness fades away the moment you get to see how beautiful this guy is. You scratch your head and stand straight. You can see the confusion in his eyes, but that won't stop you: you'll ask him if he wants to get a ride. To anywhere he wants, even if it's at the end of the world, you'll get him there. That's a promise you made to yourself.

"I was just wondering if you needed a ride." you continue, cringing internally at your own words.

"Uh, sure, I guess. Thanks." he replies, still confused.

"My uh... my car's over there." you say nervously, pointing at the old pack of metal you call a car.

"But like, I don't know, there's a problem with it, it's not starting. I'm probably out of gaz. I can call us an actual taxi if you'd like-"

As you foolishly stumble over your words, the boy interrupts you.

"There's probably something wrong inside. Let me check." he says, opening to see the mecanism. You silently watch him work in admiration for a few seconds.

"There, it should work now." he adds, closing the cap and looking at you with a slight smile.

You enter your car and as soon as you put in your car keys, it starts running. The boy smiles and gets in the front seat.

"So, where to?" you ask in a friendly manner. The boy hesitates for a little while but finally comes up to a decision.

"Uh, Cobra Kai dojo." he replies.

Your mind goes off to an entire other dimension after hearing that word. It's the dojo you've been thinking about joining after being bullied for being gay, after all. You've been beat up and chased down. One day, you decided enough was enough. After recovering in the hospital, you thought about fighting back for once. That's when Cobra Kai popped up in your mind. You've seen all these badass clips of kids fighting like in the movies, you thought that, maybe if you knew how to fight back, you wouldn't be harassed anymore. You thought about it long and hard at the psych ward, but you came to a conclusion: you will join Cobra Kai.

"I- uh- alright. I live near the dojo anyway." you reply nervously.

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The silence during the ride is almost deafening. Your nervousness went wild, especially after hearing where he wanted to go. You want to know more about the man, what was he doing in juvie? Why does he want to go to Cobra Kai? Is he part of it? A million questions fill your mind. In all your glory, you decide to break the silence:

"So, uh, may I ask why you were in juvie?" you ask, stumbling over your words again. An awkward silence occurs and you're wondering if even talking was a good idea.

"I, uh, I don't want to talk about it. I'm not in the mood to talk." he replies coldly, crossing his arms. You nod in understanding, but inside you're screaming. Why would you bring up the subject? He sighs, still crossing his arms.

"I accidentally kicked a kid off the second floor during a fight." he admits with regret in his voice.

"And, uh, the black eye?" you ask out of curiosity.

"Juvie. Some guys were giving me a hard time." he replies, as cold as ever.

"Where did yours come from?" he asks out of spite.

"Got beat up on the street." you say, obviously telling a white lie.

______________________________________________________________

You finally arrive at the dojo, where he picks up his bag and leaves the car as soon as possible. He nearly forgets to thank you and rushes back before you leave.

"Oh, and, thanks. I'm Robby." he tells you with a subtle smile.

"Y/N. Nice to meet you."

You shake hands through the window and wave goodbye. Before you depart, you stare at the Cobra Kai sign and wonder if it's really a good idea to join it. You do need a way to defend yourself, right?

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glacierreblogs · 1 year

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I, Remus Coriander

Kind of a vent fic, a lot of this is how I was feeling before I was on meds. So I'm not gonna tag anyone in this, but I will be sharing it.

CWs: hallucinations, manic episodes mentioned, depressive episodes mentioned, sort of suicidal ideation(like it's not quite there yet, but not far off),

Words: 461

I’m going crazy, that’s the only explanation, I’m going crazy. I, Remus Coriander, am going crazy. There are people there and then there aren’t. There are shapes floating in the sky. Something’s crawling on me, but nothing is there. Where can those conversations even be happening! I, Remus Coriander, can’t tell fiction from reality sometimes. Most times now actually. Do dragons exist? I swear I heard one the other day. Can animals talk? That racoon was speaking just fine. Heard it actually say human words. Do fairies exist, I saw a few the other day, one was dead. It kind of looked like me. Should I ask for help? Maybe. But I’d rather die than be put in a psych ward. Plus, I know of no one else who goes through this. Some days the emotions are high, other days I’m depressed, and then come most days. Where I’m fucking normal, which makes me feel like I’m making this up. My family doesn’t see anything wrong with me. Sure, I haven’t told them a fucking thing, but if they don’t see my mood swings as these terrible, awful things, then surely everyone has them. How else do I explain what’s going on. I mean, Roman is hyper all the fucking time. Maybe he gets depressed just as often too. Maybe he’s just better at hiding it than I, Remus Coriander, am.

It’s been a fucking week. And I, Remus Coriander, have only gotten worse. What the fuck is going on. I know it’s not normal, I see the weird glances when I look at something that’s not there. The hallucinations, because apparently that’s what they’re called, seem real enough for me to touch. Like I can see the whiskers on that cat, that’s not even there. Because I’m inside the house and we don’t own a cat, do we? Do we? I’ll have to remember to ask again later. Actually maybe not, cause I don’t want to be sent away if we don’t own a cat. I can’t handle being alone with my mind right now. But also, my hallucinations are translucent enough for me to slightly see through them. Can I see through this cat? Yeah I can, and oh, it’s gone.

Y’know what I hate more than anything. It’s people who say stuff or do stuff and pretend that they didn’t. Or when they don’t say or do stuff and pretend that they did. I’m supposed to be in on the joke too apparently. Do you know how hard that is for someone who woke up that day thinking that zombies exist. Do you know how hard that is for someone who’s brain says that something’s there when there’s not. Do you know how hard it is to live…

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missmisdemeanor · 2 months

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i dont know much about scene at all!! infodump on us! what are the primary scene groups? what makes music "scene"? what's the fashion that correlates with it? do tell!!

i don't want to like scene-splain as someone who was too young to actually be on myspace or go to warped tour and all that but here goes,

scene music can generally be split into two categories- crunkcore and metalcore. crunkcore is a portmanteau of crunk and hardcore, which includes groups like brokeNCYDE, the millionaires, attack attack and, unfortunately blood on the dance floor. you'll see crunk beats combined with hardcore elements like scream vocals. metalcore is metal and hardcore, including bands like asking alexandria, avenged sevenfold, bring me the horizon, and falling in reverse. these aren't crisp and sepatate categories though, and you'll find elements of both in groups like 3OH!3. scene music isn't entirely limited to this categorization or time period, i'd consider the music 6arelyhuman is making today to be scene, and an argument could be made that a lot of "emo rap" follows in the footsteps of groups like brokeNCYDE.

compared to emo, scene fashion tends to be brighter, more colourful, and more extreme, as well as including motifs like diamonds and brass knuckles that aren't shared with emo. it also borrows a lot of style from the hip-hop culture at the time, you'll find slotted shades in pictures and mentions of grills in lyrics. (now is probably an important time to mention that scene wasn't a perfect community at all- it was pretty fatphobic and racist in many circles despite taking elements from black fashion and music, and ultimately reflected a lot of the popular attitudes of the time, late 2000s-early 2010s. for an unfortunate example, jeffree star first got famous in the 'scene.' exclusive scene groups were made on myspace and membership was policed largely by looks.)

the name "scene" itself comes from the music and party scene; and this is where i'm arguably "not real scene" either. seeing bands, partying hard, and meeting people from myspace is fundamentally what the scene WAS. there's crossover with raving here too, bands like S3RL were popular, a lot of scene kids made kandi (as do i), and of course there's the drug use.

aaand yeah, this is what i have off the top of the dome! scene today is a lot more inclusive than it used to be, and people who identify with the movement are very aware of its issues. (one of my faves is clawed_beauty, and it's parasocial as fuck to say she's really nice, but i do believe she's very positive) it does also bear mentioning that emo, scene, and myspace were places for many people to experiment with identity and sexuality, and this is where "kids are being bisexual because it's trendy" partially comes from. there's a lot and i'm not an organized person.

final note, i connected with scene personally in, try not to cringe, the darkest time of my life. my bipolar disorder was undiagnosed, i'd been in and out of psych wards for suicide attempts, and music that was simultaneously about having crazy fun and being in self-destructive pain and anger really clicked with me. the fashion seemed like a way to express myself outside of what other people wanted or expected of me. so...yeah

#lana's box #suicide mention #racism mention #i'm not gonna tag this with scene stuff because i don't need to drag discourse over here

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cat-eclipse-m · 5 months

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i'm explaining everything in detail. this is just a huge vent post. dont read if you dont want to.

first off, image below doesnt need much context. a lot of times i skip meals even though i am famished, and sometimes it feels like a conscious decision instead of an instinct of being hungry. Sometimes i also feel like i dont deserve to eat if i fail a test that day or if i didnt give something my all. it goes so far that people need to threaten to force-feed me to get me to ingest food. i dont really eat in front of people either, only sometimes and i try to avoid it. my parents make comments on how much i eat, "oh wow you're eating a lot" "are you sure you can finish that?" "wow, that much that quickly?".

it gets super annoying and causes me to choose how much i eat in front of people. not sure if this is severe enough to be considered an ED, since i do eat all 3 meals on most days.

Image below hints at my trust issues. if you do something that hurts me, unintentional or not, i find it really hard to forgive you. sometimes, actually, even when people do say that they're not using me, i feel like they secretly are.

this one. this is the one that best describes it. incase the words aren't clear;

PINK; "KILL ME" "GRAB IT" "MURDER" "DIE" "KILL" "STAB YOURSELF" "KNIFE"

GREEN; "KYS." "LAUGH MORE" "HYSTERIA" "MANIA" "PSYCH WARD WORTHY"

BLUE; "ASSHOLE" "DEATH" "ROPE" "HANG YOURSELF" "CRY ABOUT IT"

i find myself on the brink of insanity everytime i'm miserable. its pathetic, i know. i refer to myself as "psych ward worthy" because my behaviour is questionable and insanity is near. sometimes i snap at people and make rude remarks when i dont mean to. i dont think before saying or doing something. i am pathetic.

i am being medicated and seeing a therapist, before any of you ask.

#vent #dont read this #long text #m1k3 right'd!! xd

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cyberphuck · 5 months

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Doctor looked at my blood test results and said "you're fine fuck off." But since the clinic I go to provides a copy of the results, I've gotten into the habit of checking them myself, because one time a doc said there were no abnormal results in my urine test and he'd missed the line that said "THIS PATIENT HAS A BLADDER INFECTION."

Anyway I'd told her I was concerned about anemia or low RBC, since I had a long history of anemia and iron deficiency. She said "nope looks fine" and moved on.

Guess who just found a low red blood cell count in their lab results? There are other results regarding my platelets that I'm not as experienced with pointing angrily at but I feel like after I'd mentioned anemia she'd at least *mention* them.

(All the other results were normal except for bile production which pinged *just* under normal range. I'm not gonna say that def means something, I'm not a doctor, but I have suspicions. And since bile production is *also associated with red blood cells,* again, I feel like she could have mentioned it.)

I'm so fucking tired of doctors. How do I go back and say "hey! Pay attention!" without sounding like a hypochondriac or a Google Doctor? Doctors *do not* like being corrected or even doubted and they *absolutely* will retaliate by refusing to order test results or just straight kicking you out of their office for being "argumentative."

I had been scheduled for an EKG in August, but I didn't go. You know, August, when applying for disability and having to go through my psych ward stays triggered me so hard that I'm *still* having regular anxiety attacks about it? But I couldn't even get those words out of my mouth before Doc sighs irritably and says "you know, I can order all the tests you want but I can't help you unless you go to them." FUCK OFF.

I used to trust doctors. But I discovered, after a doctor who ignored my concerns about a antipsychotic he'd prescribed, resulting in a medical emergency that left neurological damage *that I still feel 20 years later,* that most doctors just do not give a shit about you, and even the ones that do will get tired of your "hypochondria," even when there are obvious red flags that point to ACTUAL ISSUES, like chronic lower belly pain and cramping (it was appendicitis), panic attacks, mood swings and self harm (it was PTSD from ongoing abuse), restlessness and shakiness that later increased to my muscles locking up, making me unable to move, and being painfully bent into an unnatural position (it was a severe, life threatening reaction to medication that required emergency intervention-- and I still get tremors to this day), joint and limb pain (psoriatic arthritis), forearm pain after falling down the stairs (they took x-rays and were like meh ice it or something but a different doctor called me to tell me I HAD FRACTURED MY WRIST??), chronic knee and hip pain beginning at a young age (ONE OF MY LEGS IS SHORTER THAN THE OTHER???!???)

The list goes on, and on, and on. And fuck, I am so tired.

Good morning.

#tw medical #tw medical abuse #tw doctors #tw abuse

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goodgriefnd · 1 year

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Physically Embodying Neurodivergence: Autism, ADHD & Auditory-Tactile Synaesthesia

an autoethnography of sensory subjectivities

I was recently at the It Takes All Kinds of Minds (ITAKOM) conference, and this is one of the posters I displayed!

[Image ID: a poster on the sensory aspects of autism, ADHD, and auditory-tactile synesthesia. Full transcript under the cut]

From top to bottom, starting with the title, it reads:

Physically Embodying Neurodivergence: Autism, ADHD & Auditory-Tactile Synaesthesia - an autoethnography of sensory subjectivities

CONTEXT

Ally is a neurodivergent PhD student in Clinical Psychology researching autism and grief. She writes here about the everyday sensory overwhelm she feels: the tactile nature of her synaesthesia, the acute sensory sensitivity of her autism, the unfilterability of everything around her from her ADHD, that odd bodily awareness of her hypermobile joints. The poster follows her experience of one class on a good day: a day when she manages, a day when she copes. The class follows four writing prompts and Ally documents her experiences of not being able to leave the moment to follow the prompts: all the sights and sounds which hold her in place. Ultimately, the aim of this poster is to give an insight to a lived experience of sensory processing differences.

WRITE ABOUT A MOMENT… The lecturer set a timer and she sat utterly and completely bemused at the front of a classroom with the fan buzzing, projecting colour and sound above her, needles of visible light instructing her to, “write about an experience [she] had today” … well, this is it. The fan growing louder and louder, creeping like soft watery ice down her arms; the flickering up and down and up and down of fingers hammering away at keys writing worlds of their own, every letter a hurricane beating away at her eardrums. She feels so lost there, sat between squeaky chairs, hitting her ears and travelling down her spine, the sounds seem afire and aglow in the room. The border between her senses knows no impermeability. She is lost there, in the room where the air feels as alive as it is meant to, yet she does not… how? how can she follow instructions in this chaotic calmness of everyday overwhelm? The alarm from the timer finally goes off and it slaps across the back of her neck.

WRITE ABOUT WHAT YOU LEFT OUT… She could have written about anything and everything that happened and didn’t happen that day. She could have written about how she didn’t fall asleep last night , the glorious and godly sunrise across the kitchen table which stopped time for just that moment, how she forgot to eat breakfast again: muesli and blueberries would have been a good start to the day, the sunrise and cereal to her writing… but, no, she writes about now, all the everyday overwhelm of her senses, of sounds and smells and people, decentred into their own worlds, she is caught like a moon in their gravity and motion. She could have written about any other moment, about popping joints and pain which greet her body as though she were a poorly made watch, or about the delightful shape and feel of the sound of piano scales she plays religiously as though they were hymns. She could have written about any other moment, but the wiring in her brain stops her dead, stuck in the moment she writes about. The alarm hits her again, she can’t escape.

WRITE ABOUT THE POWER WHICH (RE)SHAPES THIS MOMENT… She could be anywhere, but she is here. She fought so tirelessly for this quiet moment filled with so much sound and chaos. She remembers reading of how 4 out of 5 of her kind won’t finish an undergraduate degree, and that is only the small handful that make it there. And (t)here she is, doing a PhD no less, her undergraduate degree only took an extra year, the battle wasn’t as hard as it is for others like her, those who also cannot leave their own moments and minds. And, between psych wards and suicidality, she was somehow a lucky one. She is lucky to be here. And she loves it. Even though she will crash into nothingness tonight, burnt out from a most mundane sensory onslaught. She will still feel the echoes of tapping keys and the flash from the smoke detector crawling across her skin for hours after, as she lays under weighted blankets which make her feel a little lighter for every minute she let’s herself heal. The alarm smacks her neck and vibrates down her spine once more.

WHO IS THIS “I” THAT IS WRITING THIS… She goes back in, trying to decentre her mind out of the moment, to even attempt to answer what “I” she is that is writing, that promiscuous pronoun which is never quite a product of one’s self, rather all the other selves which surround her: that patchworked legacy of all the other “I”s she has ever known, caught up in their gravity and motion, somehow more and somehow less than every interaction she has ever had which (re)constitutes her being in this moment which leaves her skin buzzing across fragile joints and a proud heart. She is reminded of that Neil deGrasse Tyson lecture, Onward to the Edge, that when we look beyond the Hubble Deep Field, reaching beyond the horizon of the observable universe, reaching for answers we can’t quite grasp yet, that in these times we ought to simply be content with the questions themselves… who is this “I” that is writing this, the “I” that she is? What a fantastic question, and she has no idea how to answer it! She has written beyond the final alarm now.

#neurodivergence #neurodiversity #actually autistic #actually audhd #heds #synesthesia #adhd #autism #sensory #disability #autoethnography #writing #phd

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delusion-of-negation · 1 year

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Please tell the story 🙏

edit: decided to put the story under the cut, sorry I'm drunk, tw

so basically I set myself on fire and that meant I was no longer, in the eyes of the state, allowed to make any decisions, and so I was locked up in a secure psych ward for about half a year, and toward the end this lady came in, she was several times my size, several times my age, and she had a tendency to attack, stab, bite, and otherwise harm people, particularly the anorexics or elderly people who could not fight back. but what she didn't know was I look a lot weaker than I am, I used to do martial arts, so one day I'd smuggled in 2L of vodka and I'd overdosed on lorazepam before drinking it - those familiar with drugs will know that what I just said is I roofied myself. lorazepam is basically a short step below roofies, which are also a benzo, and an overdose of them mixed with that much vodka is hell on earth. so I'm sat in the main room trying really hard not to go into the light, there's a nurse beside me because, as mentioned before on this blog, I had to have one within arm's reach so I couldn't hurt myself, and then another patient starts screaming in the hall, and this woman sees my nurse get momentarily distracted and charges me, out of nowhere just guns blazing, and everything goes black. next thing I know I'm in another room being yelled at by a horrified nurse about how I nearly killed the lady - apparently before anyone had even registered what was going on, I'd dodged her attack and grabbed her throat, and staff pulled the alarms and it took six professionally trained nurses and security to pull me off the person, who was slowly turning blue. and the main reason I didn't get in trouble (from what I could tell) is that the hospital decided it was in their best interests to keep it in house, given what I'd successfully smuggled in and stolen without the staff member, who was literally at arm's reach, noticing, and what they'd allowed the other woman to get away with doing to other patients for weeks on end. on the plus side, she would not attack anyone while I was in the same room after that. the hospital locked me in extra secure solitary rooms for a little while (not the time I was locked in solitary without food, cleaning products, etc, and barely any water for a week, that was just for intrusive thoughts) and threatened me with electrocution, but eventually it all chilled out, y'know?

re my tags on these posts, the excessive self-defence, there's a time an abuser tried to shoot me to cover up abuse but I think it probably wouldn't be good to drunkenly tell all my weird stories:

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pinksatinsoul · 2 years

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8th house profection year ⚰️

i’ve decided to document some of my experiences in the 8th house profection year. i’m about halfway through and oh boy, it’s a doozy. buckle up!

before i get into it, here’s the rundown on the 8th house profection year. essentially, this year has themes around taxes, inheritance, death, transformation, sex, and others’ finances. it’s ruled by scorpio, and i happen to have my scorpio mars as my chart ruler, which also happens to be in my eighth house. god save me.

month 1: december 2021 - started off... low. i was extremely depressed and constantly on the verge of ending up in the psych ward. i went on psychiatric medication, which made me feel better for about a week before it made me sick and i had to stop.

month 2: january 2022 - absolutely horrible, one of the worst phases i’ve been through in an extremely long time. i started the year with a fight with my partner, then on the 5th, a friend of theirs attempted to sabotage our relationship after they got into a fight. this left me with betrayal trauma over something that never occurred, and threw me into a state of paranoia. on the 6th, i admitted myself to a psychiatric unit, where i was diagnosed with bpd after several days of evaluation. i got out on the 11th, when mars in sagittarius squared neptune in pisces. the aspect spread gossip and manipulation, which hit me hard. mercury went retrograde a few days later on the 14th, while i was trying to pick myself up. these events started my attempt at getting my shit together.

month 3: february 2022 - much less chaotic than january, february was relatively passive. there were some bumps in the road and i was still paranoid, anxious, hypersensitive, and irritable. my partner and i got into a few fights, and worked on finding better ways to resolve them. i began paying more attention to my profection year, and realized that my relationship got a lot more serious when i went into it. suddenly, fights were a bigger deal, things were more intense, and i was overwhelmed.

month 4: march 2022 - i was still depressed, but since january, i was making a lot of progress as far as self work goes. i got over my horrendous social anxiety, which had been a problem for years, and was regularly taking my medication and going to therapy. it was a relatively docile month besides some petty drama.

month 5: april 2022 - horrendous for the first half. things with my partner were really bad, we nearly broke up. i was depressed, angry, and stopped leaving the house as much. i was extremely irritable for the first half. in the middle, i reconnected with some old friends, began socializing again, getting out, and having fun. i began unfolding my intensity that had been building up for 7 months at that point, and started letting myself feel joy again.

month 6: may 2022 - the beginning was great. my relationship was doing well, my friends were amazing, and everything seemed like it was falling into place. i felt less intense, more at peace, and more happy. i got sick in the middle, and that set me back a little bit. mercury went into retrograde in gemini on the 10th, and i didn’t really feel it for the first week. things felt fine, i was doing okay, but then i became more restless, began having problems sleeping, and got depressed and irritable. it was like i fell off of cloud nine.

these are my observations so far, and i’m going to make another post in 6 months. as someone with a scorpio moon and mars in the 8th house, this year has just felt like a more intense cycle that i’ve dealt with many times. i can definitely see this being more difficult for people lacking in scorpio placements, as things can be chaotic and transformative, but you have to hang on and stick to it. i know that the universe has my back and this year was meant to happen and meant to make me stronger. to anyone else dealing with their 8th house profection year, you’re gonna be okay. you got this. :)

#8th house profection year #profection year #8th house #scorpio #astrology

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lahotelbellamuerte · 2 years

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𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗧 𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗘𝗡𝗦 𝗜𝗡 𝟭𝟵𝟲𝟯 - issue #6. more exciting family events

series masterlist ! current: more exciting family events ! next: a little blood

pairing; five x eight warning: language, blood, killing, cliche moments word count: 3.2k notes; don't sue me i like moment.

NOT LONG UNDER ELEANOR’S BOOT, LILA BEGAN TO FIDGET. But the blonde wasn't keen on letting her go just yet.

"My father taught me well, I wouldn't struggle," Eleanor taunted as the girl continued to grunt.

"You got a good nose," She complimented Five as he figured out she was behind all this.

"You know planting her in the psych ward, taking advantage of my simpleton brother, that was smart," he compliments her back.

"Well, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree," she said with a small laugh.

Eleanor looked up at the, "She's your—"

"—daughter. Yes, and she's my only one, so I'd appreciate it if you didn't crush her windpipe," the woman said giving Eleanor a smile.

Reluctantly the girl removed her foot off her, with a nod from Five.

"Also cute outfit, the whole white on white," The Handler responded making motions at her little outfit, "The whole school girl thing must be his thing huh?"

Eleanor huffed but didn't answer, rather she stood by Five. Something that made him sigh inwardly, the Eight he knew wouldn't let the woman talk all over like this.

Lila stood from the ground and got close to the duo, "I will enjoy killing you both someday," she threatened.

"Lila, darling, would you give us a minute, please?" The Handler interrupted.

"Yes the grown-ups need to talk," Five commented watching the woman walk away far enough to where she couldn't hear them.

"Do you like Jazz Five, Eight?" she asked the two.

Five lifted his hand before Eleanor could answer, "I'd rather lick a cheese grater," he commented.

The Handler gave the boy an obnoxious smile, "Jazz is like a beautiful woman," she began reaching to touch Eleanor's blonde hair, "Complex, emotional, hard to please," she comments running her gloved hand over her soft face, "She doesn't just give it to you...she makes you work for it." she says now standing behind Eleanor putting her hands on her shoulders.

Five shifted uncomfortably as the woman used Eleanor as a way to talk about nonsense, "I'm really hoping you're going somewhere with this."

Her hands still on the blonde's shoulders, "Under my leadership, the Commission would sound more like....jazz." she comments lifting the blonde stands and letting them fall on her shoulders.

Five looked at the woman, "And what about the board of directors?" he mentioned to the woman.

"Well, that's where you and darling jazz over here come in," she said putting her head on the blonde's shoulder.

"Nope," he said, answering for the both of them, "No, it isn't."

Moving her head she wrapped an arm around Eleanor's shoulders, "In exchange for the assassination of the board, I'm willing to get you and your family out of this timeline and back to 2019 where you belong."

"What about world war III that's about to kick off in a few days?" asked Eleanor, looking at the woman next to her.

The Handler turned and poked her nose, "Well once you and your siblings are gone, that goes away."

"And the Apocalypse in 2019?" he asked.

"That too," she replied with a smile.

"I distinctly remember you telling me that that apocalypse had to happen, that it was supposed to happen." Five said bringing back the words he told her.

"Back then I was toeing the company line, but once I'm in charge, we can riff," she said her hands on Eleanor again.

"Jazz," he said, his eyes flickering to Eleanor, now he was mad that it was the image of jazz.

Five paced looking over at the blonde wishing she could help him, but with her state, all she was, was a blank piece of a paper with feelings.

"What about the board of directors? I mean no one knows who they are," Five told them.

"Correct," The Handler answered walking away from the Blonde, "But once every fiscal quarter, they get together for a board meeting."

"Where?" he asked curiously.

"The question is when. They meet somewhere in the timeline but never in the same place twice. The exact location and date of these board meetings are the most closely-guarded secret in the Commission." The Handler explained.

"But you know where it's gonna be, don't you?" he asked her, knowing all too well.

"Would I be any good at what I do, if I didn't?" she said looking at the two.

"Eight, lets' go, I need to think about it," he said, pulling Eleanor as he walked away.

"You know it's so sad seeing Little Eight not being able to think for herself, I wonder what she would say," she said loudly, "And remember doomsday is just around the corner. I'm your only option," she finished.

"Not yet you aren't," he replied, jumping with Eleanor.

The two began heading back to Morty's but stopped when they were delivered a card.

"Magnolia? Interesting," Eleanor hummed as she saw the street name.

And so the two set off to walk to their destination, side by side.

"Who was the woman?" Eleanor asked suddenly as they were walking off to their destination.

"A woman we called The Handler, you hated her," Five said as he had his hands in his pockets.

"Why did I hate her?" she asked curiously.

"While we worked for her, she tended to hit on me a lot, and you as my wife, then, didn't like that," He replied, not thinking too much about it.

"I don't think anyone would like that if you were together," she said with a smile.

Five didn't say anything for a while, but from the corner of his eyes looked at her, "You know, you're different," he said.

Eleanor hummed, "A bad difference?" she asked.

"I don't know yet," he confirmed.

And so the rest of the way they were silent, not speaking. Or looking at each other. Finally, the two arrived at Southland Life, where the card had taken them. The two then walked in, and up the stairs to the elevator. Eleanor leaned forward and pressed the button waiting as it came to their floor. Not too long after the elevator dinged and the two stepped in, pressing the appropriate button, then the doors began to close. But before they could fully close a hand reaches the door open.

"Wait up," came the voice of Diego as he stepped in going around the two. Then the heels clicking was heard.

"Hold it," called the voice of Allison as she stepped in and Eleanor and Five moved to make way for Klaus and Vanya who walked in. As they thought everyone was gone.

Luther squeezed in, "Excuse me."

"Good. We're all here," he said giving Eleanor a small smile as he was squished closer to her because of Luther's ginormous body.

The elevator dinged and the doors closed, the blonde looked at Five who was face to face with her and she smiled back.

Luther then grunted as he watched the number go up, from behind him, Allison sniffs and makes a grossed-out face. Klaus followed, and then everyone in the elevator made a face. Eleanor and Five reached their faces in an attempt to block out the smell.

"God Luther," Eleanor wheezed out.

"Sorry, I'm nervous," He shrugged.

As the elevator dinged again the siblings rushed out the elevator not standing for the smell anymore.

The group suddenly walked towards the table, "When dad gets here I'll do the talking," Five said as he pulled out a chair for Eleanor who was right beside him.

"I have a few questions myself," Diego said.

"Hey you don't want to scare Reggie now," Eleanor scoffed as she crossed her legs on the chair watching the siblings take their seats, "He could be our ticket home, as Five says," she told him.

"No, we need to figure out why he's planning to kill the president," he said to the blonde as he walked over and plopped next to her.

"This is a matter of life and death, you imbecile," Five insulted his brother, but stopped when the blonde gave him a look.

"Okay, yeah, maybe we should take turns talking. Yeah?" Vanya said, reaching to another table, "Here, whoever has got this conch shell gets to talk," she said as she lifted the large shell.

"Vanya, we don't have time for a debate, okay?" Five started but were cut off by Allison who grabbed the shell out of Vanya's hands.

"Maybe I should lead. We all know I'm a better public speaker than the rest," she said.

"Or you know me? I'm literally the one that knows this man," Eleanor spoke up looking at the siblings.

"Ugh, of course, Daddy's girl," Diego scoffed, “You shouldn’t even be here with your memory issues.”

Eleanor stood from her chair and cocked her head, "Oh what Jealous? Based on what all you guys say about me, I've been a favorite even when I was part of this Academy." she told Diego mockingly.

"I regret sleeping with you!" Diego seethed taking a step forward towards the girl.

But the blonde didn't back down, "Honey the only reason we slept together was because of me. I clearly have the bigger dick between you and me," She laughed taunting him.

"I won't have a problem punching a girl—"

He didn't get to finish as a first flew straight at him, causing him to stumble, "Oh what was that? I didn't hear over my fist," she spat at him, “Try me Diego, I eat boys like you breakfast,” she finished in a hiss.

Before any more could be said the doors burst open, and in came a quiet Reginald. The siblings watched as he set his stuff down, and sat, the other siblings following in suit.

His eyes traveled to the table and landed on a familiar blonde, but said nothing to her.

"Not only have you burglarized my lab, set my chimp loose, conned your way into the Mexican consulate, repeatedly stalked and attacked me, but you have, on numerous occasions, called me...."

Before he could finish Klaus pulled the chair next to him, "Hey, pop. How's it hangin'."

"...Dad..." he finished, "My reconnaissance tells me you're not CIA, not KGB, certainly not MI5, so who are they, Eleanor?" The man continued as he now formally addressed the blonde he knew. Fitting the one they didn’t want talking, was addressed first.

"They including me apparently are your children, from the future," she told the man before her, "You adopted all seven of us and trained us to be an elite family to stop the end of the world. Called them—us The Umbrella Academy." she finished based on all the information she gathered.

"Why on earth would I adopt Seven—"

"Eight," Allison corrected, "One of us isn't here."

"Dead," Diego confirmed.

Seems Eleanor forgot the other sibling.

"Yeah, ba ba ba ba, enough of that now," said Klaus, turning around to what seemed to be Ben's ghost. He turned around and signaled to continue.

"Regardless, what would possess me to adopt seven—"

"Eight—" Allison again corrected.

"I counted out Eleanor," the man stated.

"We all have special abilities," Five replied looking at the old man.

"Special? In what sense?" He asked, a bit more curious.

"In the superpower sense," Luther answered.

"Call me old-fashioned, but I'm a stickler for pesky little things called evidence," He started looking at his siblings, "show me."

"Everybody wants to see powers all of sudden," Allison scoffs, taking a sip of her drink. Of course getting bothered by a man who does’t even know them.

"We're not circus animals okay?" Luther told the man seriously, "We're not gonna bounce balls on our noses and clap our hands like a seal for your entertainment." he continued as he made the actions with his hands.

But Diego was quick to whip out a knife that went around, Reginald's head.

The man said nothing and he began writing notes in his book.

Everyone leaned forward as he did so, "What are you writing?" Diego asked the man.

"You are zero for two young man," Reginald said and caused Diego to lunge forward but Five jumped in front of him to stop him. "Stop!" Five whispered harshly at him.

"Now that is interesting," Reginald commented to Five who had appeared by Diego.

"All right, uh, quick rundown," Five began, "Luther: super strength," he began as he pointed at the large man, "Klaus: can commune with the dead," he said pointing the man on the left of Reginald, "Allison: can rumor anyone to do anything," He explains as he sits down.

"Except she never used it," Diego scoffed feeling his sister’s ability was a joke,

Allison gave him a face, "I heard a rumor you punched yourself in the face," she said and watched as Diego's eyes went white and socked himself hard on the nose, the second time today his nose being hurt.

"And you?" Reginald asked, looking at the girl next to him.

"Uh, maybe we don't take Vanya for a test run," Luther chuckled.

"Oh yeah, that's probably not a good idea," Klaus agreed

"It's fine," Vanya finally spoke up, "I can handle it."

"Handle it?" Allison asked a little afraid, "Last time you handled it, you blew up the moon."

They all became afraid as she began concentrating as she tapped her cup with a fork resonating a large high pitched noise. And she used to explode the fruit on everyone.

"Impressive," said Eleanor smiling at the girl who returned the smile.

Reginald whipped the fruit off himself and looked over at Eleanor who was picking pineapple off her blazer.

"And you Eleanor? You said you too are from the future," he asked now looking at her.

Five-spoke up for since she didn't really know much about anything, "She was your darling child," he began looking over at Eleanor, "Telekinesis, telepath, she could open portals to almost wherever and whenever she wants, and something we call The Force."

"The Force?" He asked curiously.

"If you thought Vanya was strong, she began to glow all sorts of colors, she was the one who had the power to shut Vanya's powers off. But it seems when she arrived here her memory was wiped and she couldn't use or remember them." Five answered.

The man looked over at Eleanor and somehow he had no problem believing that. Something about the way she carried herself. He always thought there was something blocking her but now he knew why. She was a powerful being. He feared someone would take them sooner or later.

"Look, we know that you're involved in a plot to assassinate the president," Diego suddenly spoke up.

Eleanor stood from her seat, "Diego," she hissed but stopped when Reginald motioned her to sit.

"You were recently hospitalized, isn't that correct? You still appear to be suffering from delusions of grandeur and acute paranoia," he stated towards the man.

"Am I?" He asked, reaching in his pocket, and taking out a photo and handing it to him, "That's you. That's two days from now on the grassy knoll at the exact spot the president's gonna get shot.

"Well, I suppose you've solved it. You single-handedly unearthed my nefarious plot. Is that what you want to hear?" Reginald spoke towards Diego who looked proud to solve his crime.

"You fancy yourself a do-gooder? The last good man who will save us from our descent into corruption and conspiracy? This is a fantastic delusion. The sad reality is that you're a desperate man, tragically unaware of his own insignificance, desperately clinging to his own ineffectual reasoning. More succinctly a man in over his head." Regionals spoke his words, each sharper than the next. Breaking down Diego with every word, to the point he was backing sitting on his chair with tears in his eyes.

"You're wr....wrong...." Diego stuttered as a tear fell cleanly from his eyes.

"Told you not to," Eleanor said leaning back on her chair with arms crossed.

"Look, forget about the president, we have a catastrophic war coming in five days. We need to figure out how to stop it," Five-spoke up moving their attention from Diego.

"War? Men will always be at war with each other," Reginald figured, and in a way he's right.

"No, this isn't just some war. I'm talking about a doomsday. The end of the world." Five responded to the man seriously.

"Well, you're the special ones, aren't you? Why don't you band together and do something about it?" He said to the group.

When suddenly Klaus' body went shaky and his arms in the air, catching everyone's attention.

"Is he having a seizure?" Allison asked suddenly.

"Overdose probably," Diego replied, not worried, trying to get himself together after Reginald’s words.

He was shaking and he turned to the man, "I'm..."

Impatient he looked at him, "Out with it boy,"

"...Ben...." he gasped and dropped to the floor.

"Well, I have seen enough," said Reginald picking up his things and getting up.

Luther spoke up, "I–" but the man was leaving, he slammed his fists on the table, tearing open his shirt, "Look what you did to me!"

Eleanor snorted and slapped her hand over her mouth, at the moment. What a way to make a statement that didn’t need to be heard.

Reginald turned to the man but didn't answer, rather he turned to the girl and Five.

"Eleanor, care to bring the one in shorts, for a word?" he said and turned around walking off. The two got up and followed the older man to the bar.

"Reggie, this is Five," she introduced stepping away as she took the time to grab her drink and move off the counter leaving them to talk. Not really caring, the young girl drank happily from her cup, that was when she felt a tap on her shoulder, she turned to see Reginald.

"Hi Reggie," she smiled.

"Now you listen to me, Eleanor," he stated, "He and this family of yours are going to need you."

"If you're talking about powers," she paused looking down at her feet, "I don't even remember my past," she finished looking at him sadly.

The man smiled, putting his hand on her shoulder, "Something tells me you will soon. I bid my farewell, my child," He told her seriously.

Eleanor nodded and pulled the man in for a hug, "Thank you for everything," she whispered as the man hugged her back.

With that, the man left the blonde and Five alone, as the two knew they had to accept whatever deal this was.

"You don't have to go with me," he told her, not knowing how well she would react to this.

"You're stuck with me now, old man," she smirked, grabbing his hand.

He looked down at their hands and nodded, "You know you're technically older than me now," he mentioned as he jumped out of the location.

Soon enough they were knocking on bright green doors, and they opened to reveal a very shiny woman.

"Ah, just in time for a nightcap," she said happily staring at the two, as she offered them drinks.

"To be clear, we take out the board, you get me and my family home. No more doomsday, no more apocalypse. Is that correct?" Five said to the woman who put down the drinks and began walking to her bed as she lay on it.

"That's the deal," she confirmed.

"Then we're in," he said as Eleanor nodded next to him.

The woman reached and handed them a piece of paper, The Lonely Lodge Inn. Oshkosh, Wisconsin, 1982.

#five hargreeves x oc #five hargreaves x reader #five hargreeves #aidan gallagher #the umbrella academy #season two #eight hargreeves

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sincerelyveronica · 1 year

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White Trash Warlock Review:

Let me begin with saying that I LOVED everything in this book! There was so much beauty and world-building that it took me on such an imaginative ride. Ok, so let me give you the synopsis.

Plot:

Guthrie was a good place to be from, but it wasn’t a great place to live, not when you were like Adam, in all the ways Adam was like Adam.

Adam Binder hasn’t spoken to his brother in years, not since Bobby had him committed to a psych ward for hearing voices. When a murderous spirit possesses Bobby’s wife and disrupts the perfect life he’s built away from Oklahoma, he’s forced to ask for his little brother’s help. Adam is happy to escape the trailer park and get the chance to say I told you so, but he arrives in Denver to find the local magicians dead.

It isn’t long before Adam is the spirit’s next target. To survive the confrontation, he’ll have to risk bargaining with powers he’d rather avoid, including his first love, the elf who broke his heart.

The Binder brothers don’t realize that they’re unwitting pawns in a game played by immortals. Death herself wants the spirit’s head, and she’s willing to destroy their family to reap it.

5/5 STARS

I only have positive things to say about this book! Firstly, I absolutely love Adam Binder and all his wonderfulness. He's a magician trying to make a living in this hard world. He comes from a magical family that lives in a trailer park. What more can I say?! This book had a great way of fleshing out characters and giving them such personal and relatable depth. Also, the world building in this book was on point! Much of the imagery and fantasy lore reminded me of many books within this genre. I love that I already knew about the Fae, Glamour, Warlocks, Witches, etc. It helps because you truly understand how certain parts of that lore fit in the storyline. Don't get me wrong, the author does a wonderful job of explaining much the magic and fantastical lore within that universe. It's soooo good! Another thing I enjoyed was the dynamic between Adam, his mother and his brother. The tension and unspoken pain was palpable. The book goes between Adam's perspective and his brother, Bobby. Each chapter reveals the actions of the brothers and how they got to this point emotionally. Both of them wanting to talk to each other about the past, but couldn't get past their pain. This broken family story weaved so beautifully with the story. Especially when you go on the journey with Adam. In the very first part of the book, we find out Adam Binder is gay. Throughout the book, I heard how hard it was for him to feel comfortable around his family and potential love interest. Man, don't even get me started on Vic and Adam! Forever shipping those two!

Like many of my books, I listened to the audiobook and loved listening to it! I was able to fully immerse myself in the story emotionally. What a great book! I'm so ready to hear the next one.

Be back soon!

XOXO

Sincerely,

Veronica

#sincerelyveronica #booksbooksbooks #lgbtq books #queer books #White Trash Warlock #bookworm #book review #book blog #booklr #audiobooks #audible #booklover #books and reading #bookish #booknerd

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quirkwizard · 2 years

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If Toga had been captured before she could kidnap and impersonate Camie, how do you think this would have affected the Overhaul Arc and beyond?

This just gives me the mental image of Camie taking her out. Like she goes in for the stab only for it to be an illusion as Camie appears behind her.

Obviously, none of the shenanigans during the License Exam happen. While these would have minor changes, like whether or not Camie passes, nothing that would drastically alter the story. I also don't think that anything with the League would change right away. Even at this point, I doubt that Toga would betray them. The first big change occurred during the Overhaul Arc. Since Toga played such a huge role in it, that would warrant a lot of changes. I've already talked about what that would entail, like her not taunting Mimic and not being around to redirect the fight with Rikiya. However, what's interesting is who would replace her. Since Tomura refused to give up Kurogiri, he would send Twice and either Mr. Compress, Dabi, or Spinner. Most likely Spinner as he's one of the least valuable assets. No matter which one is picked, I could see some notable changes in the story, both during and after the arc. These three members played a big part in attacking the convoy holding Overhaul. So, through the positioning of certain players, the League might never be able to properly attack Overhaul, nor take the Quirk Destroying Bullets.

Then there comes the MLA Arc. Without Toga around, there wouldn't be anyone to fight Curious, meaning that she's still alive and no one for Jin to look after. This is really bad because, without Toga's near-death experience prompting Double's mental breakthrough, he can't use the Sadman's Parade, a major component in the LOV's victory. You could argue that he might be able to have a breakthrough thanks to Skeptic's interference, but I think Toga had a much bigger part in that. So without that, it's pretty likely that the League may just lose outright, overwhelmed by the sheer number of fighters. There wouldn't be a lot changed during the PLF War. It's just now that Toga doesn't kill all those random heroes, have that confrontation with Uraraka, or get a sample of Twice's blood. Now, she could potentially be one of the people freed during the grand prison escape, but I think it's more likely that she'd be sent to a psych ward given her age and condition. Finally, she wouldn't be around to pull Izuku off track during the confrontation with All For One, meaning that he'd still be around to fight Tomura. Now, since this part of the story is still on-going, we don't know how this will play out in canon, so I'm just going to end it here.

As for anything character-focused, it's hard to say. While her character is tied into Izuku and Uraraka's stories, the full ramifications of their interactions are yet to be seen. Maybe what she does will work as a wake-up call for some other parts of society, but that is yet to be seen. I do know that the League would be in pretty dire straits. Their last big move of collecting hero blood was a complete flop, resulting in one of them being captured, and Magne's murder not too long after. I could see the rest of the gang questioning his leadership or even threatening to leave because of how poorly he's been handling things. Twice especially is going to be in a really bad spot. Losing Magne was already a huge blow to him. I can only imagine how bad it would be for Twice if he lost Toga on top of it. I also feel like it would be really hard for him to develop. Toga did a lot to anchor him and help push him along. So without that, I could see him spiraling even worse then he was before. As for Toga, it's hard to say. While she could get the help she needs if she was captured, it all depends on how the law handles a case like here. Even if real help was offered, I don't see it sticking that well given Toga's stalwart beliefs about herself, her obsessions, and the world around her.

#My Hero Academia #Not Quirks #Toga Himiko #Jin Bubaigawara #Twice #Tomura Shigaraki #Midoriya Izuku #Deku #Ochako Uraraka #Uraravity #MHA Meta #MHA Theory

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