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#it's not more or less valuable that the other letters
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There's always a slight yearning in the back of my mind wishing I had been born in the right place, time, family situation, income level, etc. to have just lived in one single house for my entire life. Imagine being born in a place that still suits you, even through all of your personal evolutions and etc. The idea of deep familiarity with an area because you've lived and explored it for 40+ years, being encased in a web of memories and connections. Being able to clean out your old childhood bedroom and find personal artifacts, to dig in the yard and remember. I know those lives can still be plenty imperfect, but there's just something so seemingly solid and stable and Grounding about it that I sometimes wish I could have.. (At least from my outside perspective as someone who's moved around a bit geographically and even within the same area, never lives in the same house/ apartment /etc. for more than a few years usually.) Like... having a place that is printed upon, fully your own, rather than chronically a visitor, every thought of a space always tempered with the notion that one day soon you'll have to pack it all up again, etc. There's something peaceful about the permanence.
#I think also because I'm a very nostalgic person - THOUGH not in the way that somep poeple mean when they say nostalgia because I've realiz#ed that to some people apparently it means like.. more of a sad emotional thing? Or when I talk about being nostalgic they say 'me too' and#then describe how they're always depressed dwelling on the past wishing they could revisit it and replaying it and feeling sad and etc.#Whereas for me - it's not in a deep or emotional way at all. It's very detached - kind of like someone who is doing like a scientific#cataloguing of something? I don't feel any remorse or sadness or longing or sitting there sobbing for hours over people/pets I've lost or#etc. It's more like a fun contemplative excercise and extension of self analysis plus just documentation. Like I know your memory fades as#you get older OR even as stuff is actively ongoing humans have terrible recall - even the ones who are less emotional/more focused on#accuracy our minds still twist things or etc. SO I looove to have documentations of everything possible so that in the future I will have#as full and complete of a view of myself as I possibly can. sure the image will undoubtedly be a little distorted but having real evidence#of how something was at a time is very valuable. You look through old messages or letters or something and you always find other alternate#versions of yourself. Not in a worse way like inherently inferior Previous Models Of You who haven't yet been perfected but even just in a#neutral way like 'what they're saying is not a BAd thing but also is not how I would say that today.' etc. ANYWAY I find it really interest#ing to document and remember things and love revisiting the past - not in a sad way - but just like. curiosity. reminiscing and recalling#and filling in gaps. or trying to have the same feeling I felt at a previous time so I can remember what it was. Collecting information for#documentation purposes. Like for example - I would love to go back and tour all of my old childhood houses/apartments. Not to like#sit in the middleof them and cry and go 'ohhh my childhood waughhh' - but literally because I want to take detailed photographs so I#can remeber exatly what they looked like and recreate them in sims or some other digital way. Why? idk. just to gather the information. If#I ever live to like 80 years old and I'm still reflecting on my life curious about the dteails of it. I want to be able to fire up my#ancient windows 10 laptop I've kept all these years and open up the sims 4 and tour my old home with accuracy etc. ??#Not sure why really. Maybe an extension of how I generally care a lot about having an 'accurate' view of things? Like I would rather be#accurate than be happy. I don't understand 'ignorance is bliss' because I would always rather know. I always always in any situation am mor#focused on 'what is the well researched practical truth' than about 'how does this make me feel' or etc. Truth above ALL else even if it#were to make me miserable. Aka why I'm a 'boring' 'annoying' 'UM actually..' type of killjoy lol because it's very hard for me to understan#that some people can enjoy something or have a good time even not knowing the full facts of a situation or etc. BUT anyway. since that is#some core driver of my personality for whatever reason (just the plague of ennegram type 5 perhaps lol) maybe that also drives me to my#kind of minor obsession with like 'I must have a complete view and calatoguing of my life that is as accurate as possible within the means#i have' . Is it REALLY important for me to know the exact layout of on of my first childhood bedrooms? no. materially it does nothing for m#in life. BUT hey. it would make a great addition to the Accurate Life Story Catalogue lol. ANYWAY.. But I think a lot of wanting to live in#one place forever is not just the ease of documentation. but the sense of having a constant. Much of what i crave most in life is stability#& familiarity &routine bc of how my brain works. And it just would feel so good to be Settled. Never uproot again. One little place FOREVER
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Vedic Remedies & healing approach towards energies of planets.
🌙Monday - Ruled by Moon.
🤍Start a day with a spoon of curd.
🤍Meditate for 10 mins.
🤍Sing om Namah Shivaya .
🤍Wear white colored clothes .
🤍 Flow white flowers, white rice into water to balance your mind & get the benefits of moon.
🤍 Feel your feminine side and acknowledge it's beauty & sacredness. Honor your emotional needs , feel , flow & create .
🤍 Love and allow yourself to receive, to be loved in return too.
Tuesday - Ruled by Mars.
🔥Do some workout, exercise, gym , running or yoga .
🔥Wear red colored clothes to energise yourself of this energy.
🔥 Acknowledge your & others wrong doings and let it help you create healthy boundaries for yourself.
🔥 Stand up for the right causes , for your & others well being. Be courageous enough to have faith in yourself.
🔥Cut off unhealthy habits , thought processes & unhealthy relationships. And be brave enough to accept your mistakes too.
🔥Run , shake your body , write an angry letter ( do not send it ) & burn it. Maintain an healthy outlet for your anger . It has it's right & necessary own place. 🌸
🔥Donate red lentils , red flowers into a river or ocean .
☘️Wednesday - Ruled by Mercury.
💚Wear green colored clothes more . Write , read & knit.
💚Do some puzzles .
💚Connect with your sisters and siblings , friends. Laughter & light-heartedness. Sing.
💚Flow green coloured clothes , green dal into a river , ocean.
💚Spend some time with mother nature , greenery.
⚜️Thursday ruled by Jupiter.
💛Pray , connect with your higher self. Read spiritual texts.
💛Be kind to yourself and others.
💛Feel gratitude genuinely for even little things. Meditate , go to a temple or a high spiritual energy place.
💛Wear something new ;). Wear yellow colored clothes or accessories to increase its essence.
💛Respect yourself & everyone.
💛Remember your Guru in your heart.
💛Feel the golden energy totally engulfing you. Feel hope for yourself.
💛Flow yellow colored flowers , yellow dal into rivers , ocean etc.
🕊️Friday ruled by Venus.
🌸Deeply appreciate yourself, your inner heart , inner self , talents , physical appearance. Self care day. Sing , dance , create , paint , feel beautiful.
🌸Meditate, sit in silence, connect with your true self :). Pray to female deities.
🌸Spend quality time with your female friends. Dive into your intuition & feminine spirit.
🌸Wear a flower in your hair . Jasmine fragrance. White or pink clothes.
🌸Accept yourself, acknowledge your light & dark side and forgive yourself.
🌸Lighter & brighter.
🌸Flow white flowers , white colored clothes, ghee etc into an ocean or river to balance it's energy.
Saturday ruled by Saturn 🪐
💙Light a sesame oil diya / lamp 🪔 .
💙Give yourself a sesame oil massage.
💙Keep yourself accountable and be impartial. Follow the right path of karma.
💙 Embody more self discipline in life. Respect people who work below your designations , bosses .
💙Donate to orphanges & old age homes.
💙Have a healthy sense of responsibility towards yourself and others.
💙Believe in higher justice power of the universe.
💙Work hard and learn to be patient with yourself & others.
💙Maintain Persistence , acknowledge your & others hardships and also grow through them so that you get the true gift of maturity.
💙Value time , efforts . Face your fears , accept your shortcomings and smile because you are still valuable & beautiful with it :).
💙Small menial work is no less a job. Respect your servants . Follow your ethics.
💙Be true 🙂
💙Feed food to black dogs.
💙Flow , black dal into a river or ocean.
Sunday ruled by sun.
☀️Give Surya jal to early rising sun.
☀️Acknowledge your divinity & true essence.
☀️Feel gratitude for the energy of sun that gives everyone its light & love.
☀️Create something, laugh & have fun.
☀️Wear red . Feel gratitude for the masculine energies within you.
☀️Spend some quality time with your father or father like figures or our universal father - the sun god.
☀️Perform , theatre acting, center stage singer of your room , innovative and be an authority unto your own self. Choose a Nobel path.
☀️Eat jaggery .
☀️Flow wheat grains ,jaggery into ocean , rivers etc.
PS : whenever you flow these specific items into rivers or oceans , you are balancing off your negative energies.
Thus be grateful and pray to your source of faith or Deity Varun Dev ( god of water & much more ) for his help & love 💕
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thinemoonshine · 1 month
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𝒷𝓁𝑜𝑜𝓂𝒾𝓃𝑔 𓂃 ࣪˖ ཐིཋྀ
cha hyun su x female reader genre: romance, angst , fluff (because hyun su is a cutie) type: series (but can be read as a oneshot) word count: 1,791
part 1 of series ◄◄ ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ part 3 of series
౨ৎ ⋆。˚ synopsis: cha hyun su and (y/n) go on a mission together to find items requested by eunhyuk but then, meets an unexpected danger that threatens their life and death. monster hyun su makes a small appearance ౨ৎ ⋆。˚
"Hyun Su."
(y/n)'s call snaps the said other to whip his head to her- eyes widening and brows raise along with the makeshift spear in his hands. "Huh?"
"Let's check this room," she says and points to a door she then, swings open. Hyun Su follows her inside before taking the lead once they slip through the entrance.
They're now on a joint task to find a couple of things needed for the livelihood of the residents. Okay, well one of them was assigned on a mission and the other made the choice to tag along. Guess who's who?
Asking Eunhyuk wasn't option. Everybody knows how uptight and aloof he can be- for good reason of course but, that's exactly why (y/n) had to go behind his back. She went ahead and stalked Hyun Su like a tail the moment Eunhyuk left after giving him a rundown of his objectives for the day.
"You shouldn't have come," Hyun Su quietly expresses his disagreement to her decision but (y/n) just shrugs and scans the room for valuables.
Contrasting Eunhyuk's constant character however, Cha Hyun Su had changed little by little. He's more vocal regarding his feelings now compared to before and he's less solemn. He's also less hesitant to reach out to (y/n) when it comes to asking for comfort although, it rarely happens. Still, there a lot of things he keeps silent about such as when he was zoning out before; what thoughts were he thinking, he won't say. All those time (y/n) used to accompany him in the quarantine room bore fruit.
"Ooh! Batteries," she alerts with subtle excitement and points to a torn 4-pack battery set peeking out from under a shattered mirror. She reaches out to grab it but is intervened by Hyun Su who quickly picks it up.
"...You'll get cut," is all he mumbles while stuffing the batteries into his backpack. A small smile stretches on (y/n)'s face at his attentiveness towards her. "These are my tasks."
Her smile widens at his proclamation that indirectly means for her to just do nothing. The search continues.
"So, duct tape's the last one. Where can we find that?" (y/n) wonders aloud after they found the rest of the items in the list. She's responded with a tug on her sleeve to which she reacts with letting Hyun Su drag her away gently to the upper level and in front of a door. "Janitor room?"
Hyun Su nods and quickly pulls his hand away from her shirt- afraid he'll get greedy for her hand if he were to hold longer. "I once saw the janitor tape the hinges of the electric box together before the electricians came. I think, he should have one. Hopefully."
The words he speaks sound incoherent to (y/n)- the letters blurred and jumbled in her head as his rapid action of pulling away causes a slight undesirable tug in her heart. But she manages to brush it off and reach for the doorknob.
Yet once again, being interrupted by her knight in shining armor who sneakily slips to the front and opens the door. He walks in to search for the tape and lets (y/n) to just stand and watch. He mimics a cat when his face snaps towards the tape with large eyes sparkling with quiet glee.
"Here's the ta—" His sentence is cut after he takes the object and turn to (y/n) whose hair gently flutters to the side from a breeze. His brows furrow and (y/n) shares the same reaction.
She turns her face to the direction of the source and lips part in shock at the sight of a broken window. "Hyun Su, that window's broken. Something must've got in."
"What?" Hyun Su blurts and throws the tape in his bag before rushing out to shield her. His eyes then darts to the camera before belatedly realizing that the CCTV on the floor had broken down. This meant that whatever it is that happened here, Eunhyuk would be unaware of. No one will know if anything is to happen to them here. If anything happens to (y/n).
Dread fills him as panic ensues like a sprout rapidly growing its stems and roots to every end of his figure- a siren blaring in his head and heart pounding faster than ever. "(y/n), we have to go."
A faint whimper follows.
He frowns, confused by her lack of response despite feeling her standing behind him. So he turns- and the sight is enough to shatter him whole.
A monster with what seems like the deformed head of a spider and a twisted figure of a sea creature with debris and broken glass sticking out of its back had coiled its tentacles around (y/n) who's frozen with fright. Her eyes are wide with horror as she stays still- trying her best not to agitate the monster who only captured her soundlessly yet have done nothing after.
In fact, it's now staring at Hyun Su with its 8 black protruding eyes that look like they'll pop any second- all blinking in different times which rises goosebumps in their skin.
But Hyun Su's much too terrified at the possibility of losing (y/n) that he sees nothing but a target to kill.
SLOSH!
He stabs his spear into one of its eye, causing it to explode and inadvertently loosen its grip on (y/n) who quickly limps to the ground.
"(Y/N)!" Hyun Su shouts and pulls her up before dashing through the halls with her almost floating behind him. "In here!"
He slips into a room and shuts the door before falling to his knees to be eye-level with her who's desperately trying to catch her breath. The monster's tentacle had suffocated her, turning her skin and lips a shade of blue. Her head's spinning from the lack of air.
"(y/n)! (y/n), are you okay?" Hyun Su asks frantically as he constantly brushes her hair away from her face as she holds her head in his hands. His gaze heavy with concern scans her but is interrupted by a large growl, followed by a slam near their door. "...It's going to find us."
(y/n) sees nothing but colours and shapes and suddenly finds herself in an enclosed space before seeing Hyun Su's face near hers.
His lips form words. He's saying something. But (y/n) can't hear them. She's having trouble keeping her eyes open as her chest heaves for air. Seeing her dazed state, Hyun Su then forms a small smile, a smile that doesn't reach his eyes but for some reason, it reaches so deep into her chest. It... stings.
His shadow then swallows her when he bends down slightly- letting their foreheads touch for just a few seconds long before he hesitantly pulls away.
The light then disappears around her as the closet doors are closed by Hyun Su who leaves a gap big enough for air but not enough to replenish hers completely.
And so, she faints.
She awakes with a gasp and she quickly shoves the doors open- tumbling forward as a result but feels something minimally soft cushioning her.
Hyun Su's backpack.
Panic overtakes as she recalls the mangled monster and the life threatening situation she experienced. And yet, it's now strangely quiet and... Hyun Su is nowhere to be seen.
"Hyun Su," she mutters and rushes out the room with the bag only to gasp at the large volume of blood smeared on the floors and walls- but what scared her the most is the bloody handprints scattered around the windows which eventually increased on the layers of duct tape used to cover the crack they saw before. "He covered this. He's alive! Hyun Su!"
It's as if she's a madman- running around the hallways in search of him and completely disregarding the fact that there could be another monster. It's unlikely, anyways, or else they would've came out before.
"Hyun Su! CHA HYUN SU!" She shrieks and drifts to a stop in front of the janitor room where the door is open by ajar. She's scared to swing it open wider. What if what she sees is worse than a 'missing' Hyun Su? What if... he's not just gone?
But relief settles in the moment she sees him collapsed on the ground, breathing and alive- although, battered and bruised.
"Cha Hyun Su," (y/n) sobs and pulls him into her arms. He stirs.
He pants onto her back as she lays his head on her shoulder. "...(y/n)? Why are you h-here?"
"For you," she answers without pause and she feels him flinch.
"I told you to not come for me... If I don't come back, don't search for me," he strains his voice and (y/n) pushes him up- tightly holding his cheeks against her palms with a glare.
"Stop being sappy and just rest up, will you?" She scolds and Hyun Su's eyes flicker between her angry ones- feeling a thump in his chest and question marks seem to appear on his head. "Now, shush."
She pulls him back down to her shoulder and hugs him tightly in hopes to hide the tremble of her arms and the tears that brim her eyes. Acting tough seems to work, thankfully.
No, it doesn't. Not at all.
And yet, as selfish as it sounds and as much as he wants to hit himself for it, Hyun Su feels... grateful that she's so deeply affected by him. That she's moved by him. His lips stretch to a grin as he nuzzles further into her shoulder- shuffling to the crook of her neck to feel the warmth of her skin.
"...If you try to sacrifice yourself for me again, you better stay alive," she suddenly says.
"Alri—"
"So I can kill you personally."
"Oh..."
Despite her death threat, the joyful miens they each wear show their heartfelt feelings for one another.
'I'd like to see her try,' a voice that's eerily similar to Hyun Su's chuckles in his head and his smile drops- eyes turning completely black before they fade just as quickly.
'Shut up,' Hyun Su snaps back in his head and wraps his arms around (y/n)'s waist- unintentionally leaning towards her for security and comfort which causes a blush to creep on her cheeks.
note: this was so long but i hope you guys like it although i don't feel very satisfied with it yet (i want more romance and more FLUFFFF) but anyways, this is part 2 of the series if you guys wish to read it as one but it's yet just another oneshot if you guys want it to be <3 i'm like, so fired up in writing these hyun su fanfictions because i just finished watching the series on netflix and now i'm hyperfixating :0 do leave a like and reblog if you like them because they will totally help in motivating me!! thanks for reading ઇ♡ଓ
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the-guilty-writer · 10 months
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We Need You That Way
Request from anon: Hey Gill, love your work bestie anyway I have a request for Spence being with BAU reader but she's dyslexic and idk there on a case and she's insecure because some of the cops/agents don't think reader could be an fbi agent yk and Spencer just consoles her super fluff stuff anyway feel free to ignore me 
Spencer Reid x gn!BAU!reader
Summary: Spencer reminds dyslexic reader that they’re a valuable part of the team.
A/N: While doing research on dyslexia I learned a lot about how it can affect more than reading and writing, but that it also presents differently in everyone. I remember reading a Spencer fic a long time ago with a dyslexic reader, but I couldn’t find it. (I will keep searching for it, though anon!)
I DID NOT HAVE A CONSULT on this fic, so if anyone with dyslexia has an issue with it, please let me know how I can improve. I do my research, but there is only so much a search engine can tell me. My messages are always open and I’m always happy to learn about how I can make a fic better when it features a reader with specific traits I’m unfamiliar with.
CW: reader is dyslexic (this shouldn’t be a warning?), the deputy makes a rude comment to reader, small southern town slander (I live in a small southern town and can confirm that the stereotypes are true. Someone save me from this hell please.)
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“Why does every small town we go to have a bunch of roads named after a bunch of people from the same family?” you huffed slightly.
You had just gotten back from visiting a crime scene; something that should have taken about an hour and ended up being far longer. The GPS had died and there was no cell phone service, leaving you to navigate via old-fashioned map, which wasn’t exactly your strongest suit. Mixing up left and right, finding out that you were holding the map upside down, and old road names made the journey less than ideal and exceedingly frustrating.
Most people thought dyslexia only went as far as mixing up words and struggling to read, but it got in the way of other things as well; today’s backroad adventure was just one example. It wasn’t often that you let those things get you down, but today you couldn’t help it.
After seeing you come back to the station so defeated, Spencer took you to grab a much-needed cup of coffee from the small kitchenette. It wasn’t a real break, but it was enough for you to cool off from your frustrations.
“Looking back at the town records, the Baskin family owned about one fourth of the town land for three generations and the Silvan family owned a third of the town for two generations before holding prominent government positions. Given the regional tradition it makes sense that so many roads are named after them,” Spencer sprouted a fact. It made you grin.
“My great grandpappy held onto the land as long as he could,” one of the old deputies said, though you could barely understand through his thick southern-drawl. “Broke his heart when he had to let it go. It’s devastating the first murder occured on the road named in his honor.”
It’s more devastating that someone is… you know… dead, You thought, but kept yourself from speaking. “And which road was that?” you asked politely, opening up your case file, but knowing it would be faster just to ask.
“Harper,” the deputy said. “There’s only one Harper road in this whole town.”
“Are you right?” you looked down at your file again, taking your time as much as you could, but still in a rush.
“What is it?” Spencer asked.
“I thought I just came back from the scene at Harper,” you told him.
“I’m right,” the deputy replied defiantly.
“I wasn’t-” you wanted to explain that sometimes you would reach for a word like “sure” but a word with similar meaning, like “right” would come out instead. Dyslexia didn’t just make you mix up letters and sounds, but words sometimes too, especially since you were distracted by your files.
But the deputy didn’t give you a chance to speak any further. “I know I’m right! What kind of FBI agent can’t keep track of where crime scenes are?”
Spencer interrupted before it could go any further. “Let’s go note the difference on the profile board, okay?”
“Yeah,” you replied to him quietly and the two of you quickly made your way to the other room.
Spencer shut the door behind you and tears threatened to spill from your eyes. People questioned your ability to do things at times, but never so loud and direct; most of it was whispered behind your back. You’d spend time pretending that you didn’t hear the insults, pretending that they didn’t get to you until you were alone and could cry silently to yourself. This time you had no time, no room, to ignore the interaction that occurred. Your vulnerability was on complete display.
You threw your files down on the table and sunk into a chair, feeling crushed. “He’s got a point,” you muttered.
“He doesn’t,” Spencer said, sitting next to you.
“It took me two hours to figure out how to get to the crime scene today, Spencer.” You should have felt bad about using such a bitter tone with him, but you couldn’t help it. “It wouldn’t have taken Morgan that long. Or you, or anyone else on the team.”
“Well when Morgan drives it makes all of us carsick,” Spencer said. “And no one lets me drive.”
“Spencer, you hate driving,” you pointed out. “You get all squirrelly.”
“I did technically fail the offensive driving course at the academy.” Spencer smiled sheepishly. “But that doesn't make me any less important to the team.”
“Of course it doesn't. You're a literal genius. I'm… just me.” Your voice quieted at the end, what was frustration showing as what it really was— insecurity.
“I think just you is great,” Spencer replied. “And you help me slow down when thinking through cases.”
“Wow, I slow you down… thanks, Spence. That makes me feel so much better.” Your voice dripped with sarcasm.
“It’s a good thing,” Spencer said sincerely. “I jump to conclusions sometimes. You make me slow down and catch the things I missed. My consultation profiles have been far more accurate since you joined the team, and when we’re out on cases we have to revise the profile less often.”
“Really?” You tried not to show how baffled you truly were. You knew that occasionally you helped slow down Spencer’s million-mile an hour brain, but you didn’t think it was helpful for anyone but yourself.
“Do you know why Hotch brings you to court the most?” Spencer asked.
You bypassed telling Spencer that his sentence could be taken in two very different connotations. “Because it would be a waste of time to have me review files when I can’t read them?”
“Because you can tell the story of the case as an experience instead of just a list of evidence. It makes it easier for the jury to understand what’s going on and more dangerous people get put away because of it,” Spencer explained.
“And Garcia always asks you to help review initial video footage for a reason. It’s like you can see the crime scene without being there, so when we get there in-person we have a better idea of where to start. Your spacial awareness is better than the rest of ours. We can build the profile faster.”
“Do I really help that much?”
“Yeah, you do.” Spencer looked at you softly.
He reached for you, pulling you into a tight embrace. You let yourself fall into his arms. The comfort and reassurance of his words cradled you, building your confidence back up. “Keep being ‘just you.’ We need you that way.”
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izvmimi · 4 months
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malevolent enterprise ch. 4
cw: ceo!au. in which you, the reader, meet ceo itadori for the first time. reader wears a dress and heels. header by @/cafekitsune! masterlist
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“A pleasure to meet you finally.”
Yuuji’s smile is wide and friendly as he rises out of his seat upon his interviewee’s entry. You, having just been led into his office by a rather flustered appearing secretary, the type that is doing her best but her best is at best subpar, are still trying to control your expression when you  meet face to face with him. You do your best to offer him a smile, taking advantage of your disarming features, and in a few measured steps, stride across the room to your seat, taking his hand in a gentle handshake before having a seat.
“Thank you for having me, sir.”
You smooth out the back of your skirt as you sit, thanking the heavens that you haven’t had some mishap with your pantyhose, as is the tendency. You usually prefer a pantsuit, but you’ve been told that Itadori Enterprises is on the conservative side, so you’re clad in the only suit-skirt combo you own paired with sensible pumps instead of loafers, hoping that you make it through the day without mishap. The young man in front of you does not appear very conservative, you think, and in fact something about his relatively cheerful expression and pink hair gives him an air of childishness. Keeping your own countenance just shy of neutral yet warm, you focus your eyes on him. 
“I’m happy you were willing to interview me this early. I was very excited to see that you reached out for an interview in less than 48 hours of my application, and I would like you to know that I’d be honored to be considered for such a coveted position.” You begin.
Yuuji nods, but says nothing else. He appears to be studying you, which is surprising but preferred to the outright ogle that you’ve had in your past couple of interviews this week, so rather than dwell on it, you consider an opportunity to continue speaking. 
“As mentioned in my cover letter and resume, I’ve had years of experience at Gojo Corp., and while I’ve left amicably in search of other opportunities, I am very capable of transferring valuable skills learned there to your organization,” you finish. He’s let you speak for long enough, and asked you very few questions, and you decide you  might as well end your monologue strong and hope for the best. 
Amicable is somewhat of a stretch, but you continue to say it without hesitation. What really happened is you’d slapped a resignation letter on your desk after weeks of responsibilities being heaped onto you at increasing intervals, in the midst of increasingly long vacations from your womanizing boss and more and more casually disrespectful speech. Satoru, for some reason, had decided that you were the one to play games with somewhere in the last three to six months of your tenure, and you frankly had run out of the coins to continue. When you’d finally quit, Satoru had nothing to say but finally, and before you could really take your time and lay into him, threatening a workplace harassment lawsuit, he’d clapped his hands together, thanked you for your time, and told you he was hoping you’d finally know your worth. 
Leave, he asked, a glint in his eye. You genuinely deserve better than to be here, working with a peon like me. 
The sarcasm stung until you realized he wasn’t being sarcastic in the way you expected. Gojo offered you enough severance pay to last you practically a year, knowing it was far from enough for what you've done for him. 
I think you undervalue yourself, he said, an unsolicited piece of advice included with the hefty sum of money stuffed into a neat envelope. You never asked for a promotion, and took more and more work, to the point that you might as well have been running this place on your own, doing the job of ten people.
Angrily, you reminded him that he could have just treated you like a human being and you’d never have resorted to resignation, but he laughed, swinging his legs on the desk and leaning back into his chair, head resting on his palms.
You wouldn’t have been forced to know your worth, he’d said.
You didn’t like this type of support, but here you were, being considered for an executive position, something you would have never considered a year ago.
And this wasn’t the only one. 
“From what I’ve seen of your application, you are absolutely impressive. I’m surprised Mr. Gojo had you doing middle management for so long.”
You resist the urge to make the joke, “you and me both,” but Yuuji seems to pause to expect it as though he is reading your thoughts. Instead you smile, and look down at your open portfolio. Then you look up and see that his mouth seems to have opened slightly in a small ‘o’ as though he’s surprised in anticipation of what you’ll say before you say it. 
“I absolutely have the skills to be an executive at this company. I understand if you’d prefer someone internal and appreciate the opportunity to be considered. If I must be so bold, I would like to share that I already have been offered a similar position at another company, but I’m very particular to your company’s mission, and would much prefer to be here.”
Yuuji perks up in a way that makes you practically imagine dog ears on his person. He’s far too… cute, wet around the ears appearing to be in this sort of position, you think for a moment. Too easy to read. Too sincere.
“Where?” he asks, eyebrow raised. His light brown eyes seem to betray a premonition of the answer. You wonder if the brothers talk - you had spent enough time searching for any backstory to supplant what you’ve heard through the grapevine about the corporation’s split, but often financial matters and family matters do not completely align. You have heard that the two are not fond of each other, and that simple knowledge encourages you to move things in your favor.
“Ryomen Industries.”
Yuuji frowns. He pauses and mulls over this information and for a moment you wonder if you’ve overstepped, shifting in your chair and masking your discomfort with a quick cross of the legs, and folding your hands in your lap to prevent yourself from looking seductive. Yuuji however is not looking at you, his chin pressed to his fist suddenly as he thinks, staring at a fixed point at the wall, slightly off from you.
Then his eyes snap back towards you.
“Whatever they’ve offered you, I can offer you double or triple.”
Your eyes grow wide.
Unable to help it, the first thought that crosses your mind is No way he knows what he’s doing.
To quell your disbelief, you let your lips curl into a smile.
“Forgive my candor, but are you simply that impressed by me or do you simply refuse to lose?”
Yuuji blinks, taken aback by your speech, but you’ve realized by now that Yuuji has already hired you in your mind. You are not at any risk. 
“Don’t mind that.” Yuuji smiles, this time the corners not reaching his eyes to the same extent, and he takes your portfolio. 
“Are you willing to start tomorrow?” he asks. He clears his throat, and you know it to mean that the current subject has been tabled for later.
“Yes.”
Yuuji rises, and you rise as well. He rounds the desk to meet you, and now that he’s closer, you take a better, more focused look at him. Sweet-faced but quite handsome, you admit, with broad shoulders, and you spot a wrinkle in his suit that you’d consider smoothing out if you weren’t a stranger. His walk is more confident than it should be for a man you feel like you just conned. Something about all of this is far too easy, you think. You are suspicious.
Yuuji leads you out, walking a bit too quickly ahead of you, and while you keep up for the most part, you find yourself staring at the back of his head, then your eyes travel further to his backside, admiring the cut of his suit, the shine in his shoes. He’s tall, and he speaks softly to the confused secretary, reminding her to do her job and make sure to send you an email of your formal contract. He takes you on a very brief tour of the building, talking animatedly as you take the elevator with him. He smiles far too easily, too much, and the middle managers speak to him casually. You’re not sure if you like that. 
He introduces you by your new title and you bow. They will not speak to you casually, is your first thought. At least, not at first.
You make a circle with him, and he shows you your supposed office. It’s a 2 minute walk from his, and appears similar, just slightly smaller, with one armchair placed in the corner, instead of a small sofa. It’s bare, and does not have your name on the plate on the door or on the desk. Somehow that is reassuring.
“Please let me know if the specifications are alright,” he asks.
That’s not his job, that’s his secretary or assistant’s job, you say in your head, but offer him a polite nod. He offers you another handshake.
“Glad to have you on our team.”
You haven’t signed the contract yet but he’s so earnest, you find yourself saying,
“Thank you for having me. I’m excited to work with you, Mr. Itadori.”
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constellations-muse · 2 years
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🧞ASTRO OBSERVATIONS ###0NE🩸
3rd house synastry is severely underrated—particularly when the personal planets are involved. It often gets cast off as shallow or less intense, but communication is one of the most vital dimensions of sustaining relationships, whether they be romantic or platonic. Here, no topic of conversation is off limits, and is embraced to be revisited and refined throughout the connection. There is a strong desire to pick each other’s brains apart and share learning experiences—discerning values and seeking to understand opinions, life experiences, interests, micro-obsessions, quirks, family relationships, thought processes, and overall inner landscapes/monologues. No minute detail is too small or mundane, which keeps relationships endlessly interesting and encourages growth on many scales. In my experience, it can create a therapeutic dynamic between two people + an interest in each other’s psychology, but can be tipped out of balance if venting has no boundaries. Lots of playful banter/wordplay, love letters, frequent texting, and sometimes mind reading (mental sync) or secret spilling. I’ve found that this type of relationship can be especially healing, albeit challenging, for people with harsh aspects to mercury or a debilitated 3rd house in the natal chart (coming from a natal 3rd house lilith and chiron). If you don’t feel heard or understood in your day to day, this type of relationship is a sweet remedy.
If you have a scorpio mercury/Mars or heavy 8th/12th house placements, I highly recommend seeing the movie “Scanners (1981)”💥 (TW graphic violence/horror)
People are really intimidated by square aspects in synastry, but I think they provide strong and much needed medicine for each other. For example, Leo and Scorpio energies seem like day and night on the surface, but they provide the space for much needed light work and shadow work for each other. They supply something that is not individually generated and have a line of sight to point out each other’s blind spots, making each other stronger when handled with care. They often share similar interests and passions, but pursue them in different ways. Squares provide areas of tension/discomfort which leads to movement, which leads to growth. I love these types of relationships because they push us out of stagnancy, out of what is comfortable—yet there is a recognition or familiarity because of a shared modality (which seems so simple that it’s often overlooked). There are overlapping life themes and driving forces and tactics. There are similar security needs and styles of existing with shared modalities, which can be comforting in a relationship dynamic. Despite any conflict that comes up there is an inherent feeling of safety and understanding (though in a more broad and raw, bigger picture sort of way). I think we often forget or don’t appreciate the valuable experience of conflict, that pushes us outside of ourselves to gain a larger collective worldview and exercise our empathetic muscles.
Neptune is the planet of horror that we make Saturn and Pluto out to be (not to say that any planet should be feared in its totality—we must work with all of them to feel integrated). I will probably elaborate on this in later posts.
A reflection I recently had on chiron in the 3rd house is the notion of never being presented with probing or intriguing questions at a young age by those in your daily life. In order to dive deeper into your reflections on the world and self, you need to have people in your life who care enough to not only hear you but push you to hone your inner landscape, as well as challenge and encourage your inner monologue + beliefs. We need people in our lives to catalyze us by asking important and thought provoking questions. The lack of attention and social reflection to one’s mental world from those on the outside leaves chiron in the 3rd feeling stunted in the realm of thoughtfulness, and alone in their own narrative of painful experience
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likecanyoujustnot · 1 month
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Cardan’s letters pov
Part 3: games
A/n: I wrote it pretty quickly. This is so much easier than the feysand one. Hm. Shouldn’t take me long to do the others
Part 2. Part 4
I was positively miserable. Another week had passed, making it 25 days she’d been gone for. I had never cared this much about time before now.
The court had noticed I wasn’t the same. Many rumours I’d been injured, or fallen ill. I supposed I was ill. Heartbreak or as close to it as I could get at the moment.
Never thought I’d feel something like this. Ever. Never thought I’d care so much about someone I’d yearn for their presence so much. To hear their voice, see their face and smile. Care so much that they could come so close to breaking my heart.
I’d come so close to just asking Taryn for help, but after all she’d done to Jude, I wasn’t inclined to speak to her.
But I knew who I would be.
“I know you’ve been seeing Jude.”
The roach looked up at me from where he sat looking at spy reports.
“What makes you say that?” The fact he didn’t deny it told me all I needed to know.
“You’re not the only one with sources.” It was a guess, but I knew him well enough to know he cared for Jude. He wasn’t likely to just ignore her.
“I am your sources.”
“That’s beside the point.” I sat at the small table across from him.
“Remind me again of the point since you already know I’ve seen her.”
Is she safe? Angry? Does she use her every breath to declare how much she hates me? I go for a less desperate question. “How is she?”
“She’s fine.” He went back to his report.
“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”
He sighed and set down the pen. “She’s mentioned you maybe twice.”
My stomach dropped. Maybe she didn’t even see me as important enough to return to. “Is she angry?”
“As angry as someone who’s been exiled by one they trusted can be.”
“So very angry?”
“Not quite. She seems to be more… distant. Cold. She’s been using her time as a mercenary for the folk living in her area, getting paid just enough to help her sister, killing and dealing with their issues.”
She was queen now. Anything I owned now belonged to the both of us. And vice versa. She now had access to the entire royal coffers, all the gold and valuables Mab and my father collected.
Now hers.
“That news disturbs you.” He was very observant, I’d give him that.
I didn’t answer him for a while. Keeping quiet in thought.
“Does she want to come back?”
“I’m not sure, she hasn’t mentioned it.” His gaze hardened. “Besides, you exiled her, said that if she came back she’d be killed. Jude is many things, foolish is not one of them, she wouldn’t come back to a death trap.”
He didn’t know about the loophole, so I couldn’t have him relay the message.
“I spoke to Vivienne once while she was out.”
Vivi and I had been friendly. Her closeness to Rhyia caused us to interact on occasion.
“What’d she say?”
“Not much, she’s distrustful of the fae. Said Jude barely spoke to her, that she was jittery, would spend a couple minutes every day just staring at space, playing with the ring on her finger.”
The wedding ring. The one I’d used my lessons of slight hand to take as she’d worn it. Given back to her as we exchanged vows. The far didn’t do wedding rings. But I’d thought Jude would appreciate it.
She’d probably told Vivi we were married. I doubt either would’ve told the roach.
My heart ached. I’d been an idiot. Marry her and exile her in the space of a couple hours. What could go wrong?
Clearly everything.
I put my head in my hands and rested my elbows on the table. “I just want her back.”
“Maybe you should tell her that.”
“I can’t.” My voice cracked.
“Well then, not much I can do I’m afraid.”
I looked up at the roach. “Can you tell her?”
“No.”
I glared at him. “I am your king-”
He stared back at me with just as much will. “Yes, but you are also my friend, Cardan. And I will not fix your mistakes for you. I will not be your go between in this weird relationship you two have going on. You want her back you tell her that, you fight for her back.”
“I’m not a fighter.” Balekin had felt the need to remind me of that every time I failed.
“Not all fighting is done with a sword.”
The roach stood up and left.
I grabbed a piece of blank paper from where he had been working and grabbed the quill.
The words came much easier to me today that they had the past times I’d tried writing to her.
Jude,
You are in no mood for games. Very well. I am in no mood for them either.
Let me write it outright. You are pardoned. I revoke your banishment. I rescind my words. Come home.
Come home and shout at me. Come home and fight with me. Come home and break my heart, if you must.
Just come home.
Cardan
I stared at the words on the page. No room for misinterpretation. I told her she wouldn’t be killed, that she would be safe, that I wanted her to come home. To me.
I needed her to come home.
My wife,
My queen,
My Jude.
Tags:
@magicstrengthandcourage
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So I’ve been thinking about my female Caranthir agenda, specifically in relation to the thing about lembas being the queen’s purview and the only thing the elves seem to have rigid gender roles over. Lembas is indicated to be pretty important but the Noldor in Beleriand didn’t have a queen so who would be in charge of the distribution of it?
If Caranthir was a woman and Lalwen and Findis did not exist (like in the Silm version of canon) I think there’s a real case to be made that the position would go to her because, as the Feanorians (mainly Celegorm and Curufin because they’re petty as fuck) insist, Maedhros abdicated the position of High King; nothing was ever said about their other titles and as the eldest grandaughter of Finwë Caranthir is the highest ranking nís of the Noldor and in the absence of Fingolfin’s wife the essential roles of a queen are her right.
It’s not as if there are too many other candidates either, I can’t see Aredhel or Galadriel, since she’d be off in Doriath and very much not looking to be involved further in Noldorin politics, fighting for the position (again, how are there so few women in this family? How does that even happen? There are fourteen grandchildren of Finwë. I’d need to make all the Arafinweans and Nolofinweans women just to make it equal.) so Fingolfin doesn’t really have any alternatives to suggest.
So they end up in a situation where the High King of the Noldor is a Nolofinwean but there is now a precedent for the position of Massánië (the Quenya for the queen’s role as breadgiver) of the Noldor to stay in the eldest line of Finwë’s sons when the High King doesn’t have a wife, meaning that suddenly female descendants of Feanor are technically higher ranking than any of the male ones. No Feanorian High Queen can inherit the crown of the Noldor because that would be counted as the same as the Kingship covered in the abdication but the position of Massánië has become isolated from that of the queen and in a technical sense ranks just below a Crown Prince or Princess.
This isn’t of particular importance to Caranthir but you know she is exploiting the complete fucking life out of having all her kin dependent on her for yet another valuable resource, as if all the trade routes weren’t enough. The taxes on lembas going to Dorothion are extortionate. In his letters to his cousins Maedhros responds that he cannot interfere with his sister’s independent role and it is entire her own initiative to do what she wishes in this particular area.
In his letters to Caranthir he is giving her very useful advice on how to use this tactically to best strengthen their factions’ economy based on his knowledge of political situations and sometimes when someone (often Celegorm) pisses him off. This makes the top three of schemes Maedhros and Caranthir are running through their encrypted letters to each other that though unbeknownst to the rest of Beleriand have ridiculously wide reaching effects on the entire economic and geopolitical landscape. They make a scarily good (if slightly less malicious than C and C’s) team.
(Also down the line this could be another title for a genderqueer Elrond to be playing hot potato with because they can’t even use being adopted by the Feanorians that abdicated as an excuse here and it in fact only bolsters their pre-existing claim as Idril’s descendant. If they end up accepting it they and Gil Galad would seize the opportunity to be more ambiguous about their relationship than they already are as half their own court doesn’t even know if Elrond has accepted the position based on lineage or whether they’re now Gil Galad’s consort. The foreign diplomats and future historians have no idea what was going on. Gil Galad does not help matters by using every opportunity to refer to Elrond, maybe teasingly, maybe not, as his queen.)
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theresattrpgforthat · 7 months
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Hey there! What kind of games do you know of that have trade systems in them? The only real example I'm thinking of is from Ryuutama - there's the economy for buying/selling but items have qualities which certain towns may specialize in and impact journey routes etc.
THEME: Markets and Trade
Hello friend! I have a few different ideas of how one could replicate an economy, although I haven't found anything similar to Ryuutama. Some of these games are solely about trading, while others have a prominent trade system that informs the larger story. I hope you find something here helpful!
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Red Markets: A Game of Economic Horror, by Hebanon Games.
In Red Markets, characters risk their lives trading between the massive quarantine zones containing a zombie outbreak and the remains of civilization. They are Takers: mercenary entrepreneurs unwilling to accept their abandonment. Bound together into competing crews, each seeks to profit from mankind’s near-extinction before it claims them. They must hustle, scheme, and scam as hard as they fight if they hope to survive the competing factions and undead hordes the GM throws at them.
This is a game that forces you to make hard choices in the struggle to keep yourself ahead as the world crumbles around you. The dice system is a d10 system with two different coloured dice - one for you, and one for the Market. You’ll be able to sacrifice precious resources to increase your chances of success, and much of your jobs will probably revolve around picking up resources that you can sell for Sustenance, Maintenance and Incidental costs. If you want a game of brutal economics and Zombie horror, this is the game for you. If you want to check the game out before you pay for it, you can always take a look at the Quickstart. If you want even more game options for Red Markets, I’d recommend checking out The Carrion Economy supplement.
Reclaim the Wild, by Eldritch Knight.
The Legend of Zelda: Reclaim the Wild is a freely-distributed tabletop roleplaying system made by fans, for fans, of both tabletop games and of The Legend of Zelda. It was designed from the ground up to enable players to create all new adventures in the world of Zelda, and specifically the hit game Breath of the Wild.
This game is a love letter to Breath of the Wild with very detailed systems for scavenging, crafting, and trade. If what you are interested in is haggling over prices and finding the right resources to be able to make the equipment you want or need, and if you love the Legend of Zelda games, this game might be for you! If you visit the website you’ll also find character spreadsheets, a bestiary, and a crafting supplement, full of systems and ideas to put into your campaign.
Antiverse Trader, by Majcher Arcana.
You are a space trader in the Antiverse! Your goal is to travel around and make as many credits as you can by buying and selling cargo in systems throughout the sector. Make it snappy, though! As soon as three resources are tapped out, the game ends, and you get what you got.
This is a solo game that gives you a few resources to start with, and uses dice to track the value and availability of different goods. You can choose to save your goods for specific trades, or you can use them to activate Special Abilities. Once you have tapped out all of your resources, the game is over. If you like a small game that takes less than half an hour to play and comes with a neat little set of charts to help you keep track of all of your goods, this is a great little game to check out!
Midnight Market, by Ben K. Rosenbloom.
Has THIS ever happened to YOU? {a man stumbles dazed into a market stall, knocking over priceless, beautiful, valuable merchandise]. Fear no longer - your days of navigating confusing and unhelpful stores looking for the perfect ephemera are OVER. That's right - MIDNIGHT MARKET solves all your shopping needs, absolutely FREE! 
A fantasy infomercial generator/game of hustling and hawking weird wares. Midnight Market is a quick little game all about trying to convince a Hapless Rube to trade their item for whatever you happen to be selling. This is a GM-full game, in which most of the group will be playing Unsavoury Merchants, while only one player will the the Hapless Rube. This game is short, sweet, and great for roleplaying the haggling part of getting a “good” deal.
Merchants and Monsters, by AndieSanade.
In a world of magic, monsters, and brave intrepid adventurers, you are a merchant! An ordinary honest, as far as everyone knows, merchant. Life’s hard out there for the Non-Perilous Crowd, but you live in this world just as much as any sellsword or sorcerer. So grab your wares, straighten your clothes, and open up shop because you’re gonna make it big or die trying!
This game is all about pleasing customers, from regular bystanders, to difficult customers, to sworn enemies. You will compete with other merchants in the market to out-sell your competition - and possibly even sabotage them in the dark of night! If what you are interested in is the petty politics of the competitive market, this game might be worth checking out.
Games I’ve Recommended in the Past
The Wildsea, by Felix Isaacs.
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judethejudas · 1 year
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How they would react to you being trans— MW2 Headcanons
This includes all types of trans— so trans women, men, non binary (which would require much more explaining to the boys). Also it’s okay to not want to take hormones or do surgeries, it does not make you less of who you are. It’s just for the headcanons, my loves.
Ghost:
- He’s silent the whole time you’re coming out to him
- He just stares at you, with so many thoughts in his mind.
- Of course he knew trans people existed but he never figured you’d be one of them.
- You were already on hormones but not the surgeries, which made sense to him now because you always avoided the showers with everybody and preferred covering up.
- Ghost covered up quite a bit too so he felt closer to you in that way. That you both valued your privacy.
- He realized now it was because you didn’t have much of a choice. Even though he couldn’t have known, he felt guilty for it.
- He caught onto the pain in your eyes as you explained that your transition wasn’t easy. You lost friends, family, people you really cared about.
- “All because you were trans?” He couldn’t believe it honestly. That someone would break a bond because you wanted to be yourself.
- He put a hand on your shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. “This doesn’t change anything between us and if anyone has a problem with it, you come to me. Is that clear?”
- You brushed the tears off your cheeks and nodded, before Ghost sent you off to do something productive.
Soap:
- He’s quite shocked when you tell him and he doesn’t make much of an effort to hide it.
- You’re transgender? How? How does that work? Do you mean you’re going to transition into the opposite gender?
- He’s not stupid but he’s confused. Our confused ally.
- You had to explain to him that you already did years ago but didn’t have the surgeries, which is why you covered up a lot.
- “I thought you and ghost were just starting a little club getting all cozied up like that.” He’s so puzzled and asking a lot of questions, like how your voice sounds like that and how this happened.
- The only letters this man knew of the lgbtq2s+ community is gay and lesbian.
- You explained hormones to him and he was just blown away.
- Then you started talking about how unsupportive people have been to you and he felt terrible.
- “I’m not like that, am I?” You reassured him immediately that he was not and he was relieved. He had grown to like you on his team, how you two bickered and joked with each other on missions— especially when you two ganged up on Ghost.
- “You’re definitely gonna have to run it by me a few times but I got your back, (y/n).”
Captain Price:
- I ain’t gonna lie to you, this man?? Is all kinds of phobic. He’s old, he can’t help it.
- He had taken a liking to you as time went on and you proved yourself to be a valuable member of the team.
- So when you came out to him, it was just pure shock. He didn’t know what to do or say. Suddenly everything had changed. About you.
- He was taught not to respect members of the lgbtq2s+ by his family and grew up with that mindset. He knew every slur in the book.
- But you being one of them? He couldn’t fathom it. But he also couldn’t bring himself to hate you.
- You explained to him how you were alienated and hated ever since you came out, so you found a family when you joined task 141.
- He felt horrible now.
- To anyone else, he could be bitter about it and he wouldn’t feel one ounce of guilt. But not to you. This was you.
- “Alright look, I can’t say I understand.. this. I’ll need time to process it since I was raised differently, but I’m not gonna throw ya out..”
- You were happy he was willing to put aside his prejudice for you, but you did need to correct him on a few terms that weren’t horrifically transphobic or homophobic.
- You, Ghost, and Soap end up giving him the nickname of Captain Pride, absolutely bombarding this old man until he’s had enough and making you all scrub toilets.
_______
I seriously doubt Ghost and Soap would be assholes about reader being trans. I just don’t see them caring that much other than asking a few questions, but Price? 😭
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trashmoutth · 2 months
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When I see you again (Fred Weasley x Reader)
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PART 1. 2.
female!reader, Gryffindor!reader
Summary: It takes place during the Second Wizarding War, months after Bill and Fleur's wedding. Reader is on the run after her family has been caught by the Snatchers. Loosely following cannon.
Pairing: Fred Weasley x reader (mentioned)
Characters: Dean Thomas, Fred Weasley (mentioned),George Weasley (mentioned), Ted Tonks (mentioned)
Warnings: war, mentions of death, angst, english is not my first language so there might be grammatical mistakes, capital letters, etc.
It was the break of dawn. You did not dare to travel during the day in case any Snatchers might be creeping around. However, travelling at night seemed even more terrifying considering that’s when dementors, inferi and other dark creatures were most active. You were on your own for months, travelling from place to place, never staying anywhere more than just a few days. You did not think it was wise to come back to the Godric’s Hollow, and all the safe houses provided by the Order seemed to be heavily protected by charms and spells, so you could not find any of them. You spent most of your time travelling through the countryside. Camping in the woods or hiding in abandoned muggle houses. The latter was a lot riskier since the streets were often infested with dementors. Muggles didn’t know what was going on since they couldn’t see them, but the terror they felt by their presence was enough to chase most of them away from their homes.
You were intentionally avoiding all magical places you could think of. You knew there was no place you could go to be completely safe, but there was no way you would not run into a Death Eater in the middle of the Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade. You didn’t even dare to try to go back to the Burrow. To be honest, you feared what you might find there if you did.
Your hiding tactic was going quite well, in fact, you had gotten quite skilled at protective spells and charms and were even getting better at transfiguring objects into something edible. However, being cut off from the rest of the wizarding world had its downgrades. There was no way for you to hear any news of your friends and family. You occasionally turned on this muggle invention called television, but since muggles weren’t really aware of what was actually going on, they weren’t broadcasting much useful information. A part of you was glad, at least you heard no familiar names amongst the ones of missing muggles. But sitting there, completely cut off from everything and everyone, was getting more and more exhausting, and quite frankly, you believed it would be a lot less terrifying to actually get caught by a Snatcher.  
After careful consideration, you decided to go back to your family’s vacation home. The last time you were there, the village was crawling with trolls and acromantulas, but that was months ago! Surely, it must have been cleared out by now! And if not… well you would cross that bridge when you get to it.
So, at the break of dawn, you gathered all of your most valuable things, your wand, a cloak and a couple of tin cans you found in one of the houses you were hiding in, and disapparated.
Two seconds later you felt yourself landing face down onto something sharp and cold. A painful groan escaped your lips as you felt your nose had just been hit by something that felt like a brick. You then realised you didn’t land face down, but instead, bumped right into a tall stone wall you assumed used to be a part of someone’s home. You lifted your wand and quietly whispered:
“Episkey!”
The pain stopped almost instantly only to be replaced by a shocking realisation the moment you turned around to see where you were.
You were exactly in the place you wanted to be, only the place looked nothing like it was supposed to. You were thankful for the absence of trolls and acromantulas, but the reason for their absence was that there was absolutely nothing around that they could possibly prey upon. There were no people, no roads, houses or plants… it was a wasteland. As you turned around trying to find any shape of something that used to be your old vacation home, a terrifying thought had crossed your mind. A thought you were trying so hard to push away for months.
Where… are they?
Tears began to fill your eyes and before you could stop you let out a desperate, heart aching sob. It felt like a punch to the gut. Your legs were no longer listening to you, and you collapsed to the ground.
“Please… please…! Where are they? Someone… anyone…?” you sobbed.
A part of you hoped that someone or something would show up and help you. A Patronus, a house elf, a bird…  at this point you would even greet a troll with open arms
But no one was coming to save you. There you were, all by yourself, in the middle of the rubble that used to be your family’s backyard. During the months of running and hiding you had not once felt as alone and hopeless as you did in that moment. You crumbled completely, thinking of all the people that meant anything to you. You parents, younger cousins still being forced to attend Hogwarts, friends you last saw during Bill and Fleur Weasley’s wedding. Oh, what you would give for just one familiar face showing up, picking you up the ground and embracing you, telling you everything was going to be okay. Telling you all of them were alive and well. That your parents escaped the Snatchers’ grip and were somewhere in a safe location. That your cousins were able to escape this now dreadful place that used to bring you so much joy during your school years. That your friends were somewhere out there, searching for you and wishing you were with them. But no one was coming, and by the looks of it, no one was going to.
You considered just staying there, in the middle of a wasteland. Crying yourself to sleep and hoping to die before you must wake to this dreadful reality.
However, after the tears have dried out, you managed to pluck up all the remaining strength and bravery that was left in your malnourished, sleep deprived body, and somehow, stand back up on your trembling feet. You took a deep breath and forced yourself to take a step forward. Then another one. By the third one you were on the verge of collapsing yet again, but then, something unexplainable happened. You blinked in confusion.
You realised you no longer knew where you were. You knew you were travelling somewhere, that there was a reason for you to be standing here, in the middle of nowhere, but you couldn’t for the life of you remember what it was. You looked around, hoping to gain some clarity, but it was useless. It was as if someone had just gone inside your head and altered your memories. A surge of panic went through your body. You turned back around and returned to the place you were standing two seconds ago. And then you remembered. You remembered everything you knew a moment ago. This was your vacation home. You came here to find someone. Anyone. How could you possibly forget that?
You took two steps forward again, and your mind went blank. Once again, you blinked in confusion and frustration.
What is happening?
You took two steps back again and remembered.
Two steps forward, forgot.
Two steps backward, remembered.  
Through the cloud of bewildering uncertainty caused by this development, another thought hit you like a train wreck. A thought that caused you to feel a spark of something you hadn’t felt in a really long time. A spark of something you never thought you’d feel again. Hope.
A shocked giggle escaped your lips.
It was a spell!
A cloaking spell! Someone was hiding right there in front of you, in your own house! That’s why you couldn’t remember anything when you walked forward. Someone was there, perhaps watching you at this very moment. Someone who didn’t want to be found. Which could only mean…
“Mum?”, you called out.
“Dad?”
No one answered.
“Please, if anyone’s there, it’s me, Y/N! Your cloaking spell is very strong, I can’t see anything!”
You waited patiently for someone to answer, but no one did. You thought to yourself that perhaps it wasn’t such a great idea to be standing here screaming. What if it wasn’t one of your own? What if it was a trap? But you pushed those thoughts away. You were way too tired and desperate to be questioning this miracle that has presented itself.
So what if it was a trap? Nothing can be worse than this uncertainty! You sat down in the rubble and stared at the seemingly blank space in front of you, your eyes scanning every detail of it in hopes of seeing someone appear.
“Maybe they didn’t hear me?”, you thought to yourself.
But before you could do or say anything else, a muffled, but somehow familiar voice yells out something in your direction. You tried to stand up, but before you could do that, the same voice exclaimed,
“Petrificus Totalus!”
Your entire body stiffened up. You couldn’t move. Your eyes widened in terror as you heard footsteps approaching. Then, a figure appeared in front of you. You could see his face clearly.
It was the last person you expected to see there, and yet, despite the fact he had just petrified you, you were never so happy to see anyone in your entire life.
It was Dean Thomas.
...
Dean was just being careful; you couldn’t blame him for that. However, lying there petrified, without the ability to speak, was getting really frustrating. You thanked your lucky stars that it was a classmate and not a Death Eater standing in front of you, because now that you’ve thought of it, that could’ve easily been the case. You should’ve been more careful.
Dean circled around you like a vulture, his wand still up and pointed at you. He examined your face, the clothes you were wearing and your wand. He took the little bag you were carrying and emptied it. When he realised there was nothing in it except two portions of canned beans, he finally sighed in relief and whispered,
“Finite Incantatem!”
Your body relaxed.
“Dean!”
Your mouth was dry and the words that came out of it sounded like a squeak, but you did not let that bother you. Not in this moment.
“Dean, it’s so good to see you…”
“Not so fast!”, he whispered and pointed his wand back at you, “First tell me who you are!”
“You don’t know who I am?”, you asked in confusion.
That was highly unlikely. Dean and you weren’t exactly the closest of friends, but you did know each other. You spent five years in the same common room, often chatting about muggle movies and music, not the mention all the times you spent helping him and Seamus Finnigan with their homework. Two years ago, you even attended the same secret club at Hogwarts called Dumbledore’s Army.
“No, I know who you are”, he said heavily, “I just want to see if you know it”.
You blinked.
He wants to be sure it’s not a trick.
“Oh… okay…”, you started, “My name is Y/N Y/LN. I was in the Gryffindor house at Hogwarts, two years above you. I… I used to watch you argue with Oliver Wood about soccer! Yes, you were saying it’s a more exciting sport than Quidditch… until he accidentally knocked over a candle and almost burnt down the entire Gryffindor tower”.
The memory of that made you chuckle. It felt like centuries ago! Even the corners of Dean’s lips flickered like he was holding back a smile.
“Yeah… do you remember what happened next?”, he asked, still not entirely convinced.  
“Yes… McGonagall rushed in and put out the fire… nobody wanted to tell her who did it and Fred and George blamed it on Peeves…”.
You cleared your throat. The mention of Fred and George Weasley felt like a stab in the heart. You rubbed your eyes before tears could come out, trying to make it seem like a nonchalant action, but Dean wasn’t fooled. However, this subtle burst of emotion at the mention of your two best friends seemed to convince him it was really you, and he finally lowered his wand.
He put his hand on your shoulder, and you threw yourself at him, pulling him into a hug. He was a bit startled by this action, but in the next moment he wrapped his arms around you and returned the embrace.
“Dean… what are you doing here?”, you asked after finally letting him go.
“I’m in hiding, of course”, he said.
“Yes… but what are you doing here?”, you pointed at the wasteland around you.
“Oh, right…”, he smiled apologetically and whispered, “The Unseen Village 32”.
For a moment you were standing there in confusion. Then, two very long seconds later, a large yellow building appeared right in front of you. Before you could stop yourself, you cried out in amazement. It was your family house, a bit rugged and damaged, but it was definitely still standing!
You were lost for words. Dean took you by the hand and led you through the front door. The inside of the house was almost completely preserved.
“It’s a Fidelius charm”, he explained, “I’m the secret keeper of this house, nobody can find it unless I tell them the location”.
“Fidelius?”, you raised your eyebrows, “Isn’t that like, really advanced magic?”
“Well, yes…”, he scratched the back of his head, looking almost embarrassed, “But I had some time to practice it. Ted Tonks taught me how to do it before he… you know”, a flicker of pain appeared in his eyes.
“Ted… Tonks? Nymphadora Tonks’ father?”.
You knew Nymphadora Tonks was a member of the Order of the Phoenix. Her family home was one of the safe houses the Order was using during the night Harry Potter was moved from Little Whinging.
Your home in the Godric’s Hollow was one of the safe locations as well. In fact, it was the house in which Arthur and Fred Weasley showed up. You could see their faces as clear as day. Arthur was bewildered, shaking, and rushing through your house, trying to get to the Potrkey as soon as possible. Fred was on the verge of tears.
 “What happened? What’s wrong?”, you kept asking.
The words that followed your question still haunted you to this very day,
“Someone’s been hit. We think it’s George”.
Dean’s voice pulled you back to the current moment.
“Anyway, this was the only house that was still standing after the acromantulas have cleared up… or so it seemed. You never know, there might be others out here, using protective spells and what not…”
“Right…”, you shook your head, trying to focus on his words, “Well, it’s a very powerful spell. Thank Merlin you came out, I would’ve driven myself insane trying to figure out why my mind is suddenly going blank”.
“Sorry for petrifying you, I had to be sure it wasn’t a trick”.
You nodded,
“I would’ve been offended if you hadn’t”, you said teasingly.
Dean chuckled.
“Well, I knew you were out there, they mentioned you the other day in the PotterWatch”.
You shook your head in confusion.
“In the what?”
Dean seemed just as confused as you.
“In the… PotterWatch. You have been listening to PotterWatch, right?”
“Dean, I have no idea what you’re talking about”, you said sincerely, “You’re the first person I’ve talked to since I ran away”.
“What… you’ve been on your own this entire time?”
“Yes”
“Well how did you… how did you make it?”, he was baffled.
You shrugged.
“Honestly… I don’t know. I’ve been avoiding crowded spaces and scavenging for food… I’ve gotten pretty good at protective charms as well”.
Dean looked almost impressed. You blushed.
“Blimey! That’s… I wouldn’t have lasted three days on my own”, he said.
“Aren’t you on your own now?”, you asked.
He smiled sadly.
“I was with Ted until recently…  Oh!”, he jumped up, startling you, “That reminds me!”
He looked around the room and rushed towards something that was sitting at the small coffee table next to the dusty red sofa on your right. It looked like a small, dirty box. He took the box in his hands and started tapping on it with his wand while mumbling something.
“Oh, I’m sure it was… Padfoot? No… Fawkes! No, hang on…”
After a few minutes of tapping and mumbling, he yelled out in excitement,
“Ah, there it is!”
You heard a couple of muffled voices coming from the box.
It’s a radio, you realised.
The voices were getting louder and clearer, until finally, you recognised who they belonged to.
“…to introduce our new correspondent, "Rodent"!
“I'm not being Rodent! I told you, I want to be "Rapier"!”
“Fred!”, you cried out and grabbed the radio from Dean’s hand.
You couldn’t believe it. It was Fred. And George! They were alive! They were fine! Oh, it felt so good to hear their voices! You felt a warm, excited feeling spreading through you, as if your heart finally started beating properly again.
“Oh alright, "Rapier"! Could you tell our listeners the various stories you've heard about the Chief Death Eater?”
“Yes I can. As our listeners will know, unless they've taken refuge at the bottom of a garden pond…”
This made you chuckle loudly, as tears were filling your eyes yet again. However, this time you didn’t try to stop them, and instead, you just let them silently slide down your cheeks.
“…You-Know-Who's strategy of remaining in the shadows is creating a nice climate of panic! Mind you, if all alleged sightings of him are genuine, there must be nineteen You-Know-Whos running around!”
You didn’t even pay attention to the words he was saying. They weren’t important. Who cares about You-Know-Who? Who cares about Death Eaters? Nothing was as important as the fact that you could hear Fred Weasley’s cheerful voice coming from this small, dusty box. You savoured every sound it made, clenching it firmly in your grip, like you were afraid the voice would disappear if you didn’t.
After a few minutes the broadcast had ended. You raised your eyes to meet Dean’s, almost as if you were silently begging him to bring the voice back. Dean was leaning on the doorway, clearly a bit uncomfortable, but wanting to let you have your moment with the radio. You felt a bit embarrassed. Finally, he cleared his throat and spoke gently,
“This was from a few weeks ago… I actually wanted to show you another one…”
He carefully took the radio from your hands and started tapping on it again, mumbling words that you realised were passwords to access the radio line.
“Ah, yes… this one”, he handed you the radio again.
You sat down at the red sofa and placed the little box near your right ear with the nervous excitement.
“Well, dear listeners, we have a very special announcement today that might lift up your spirits”, you heard George’s voice say.
“It has certainly lifted ours!”, Fred continued.
“We are very happy to inform you that a group of our favourite “Undesirables” and muggleborns has just been rescued from the Ministry and is currently transferred to a safe location”.
“The freed are alive and well and mostly unharmed”.
“Mostly unharmed? What does that mean, mostly unharmed, Rodent?”.
“Well, “Tentacula” …”
“Tentacula!?”
“It means that all off them have managed to keep all of the limbs they had before they were captured!”
“So, if someone was missing a leg before…?
“They didn’t grow it back, but they did most likely keep the other one!”
“What are the names of the freed, Rodent?”
“I told you, it’s “Rapier”!”
“Sorry, Rapier!”
“Well…”
You were clinging onto the radio for dear life while listening to the names Fred was listing. Your heart was racing. You heard lots of familiar names, some of them were your friends, your acquaintances, people you’ve only met once, people you studied with at the library at Hogwarts…
“And of course, last but not least…”
You clenched your jaw in anticipation. When Fred said the names of your parents, a quiet sob escaped your lips.
They are fine! They are fine! They are alive and they are safe! Everything is alright!
Fred’s voice suddenly deepened in uncharacteristic seriousness.
“However, even though Mrs. and Mr. Y/LN are safe and sound, their daughter Y/N is still presumed to be missing”.
“What would you say to Y/N if you knew she was listening?”, George’s voice asked.
“I’d tell her that her family is alive and well and desperate for news of her whereabouts. As are quite frankly, all of us here at the PotterWatch”.
“Well, there you have it, dear listeners! On that note we are ending this very special episode of PotterWatch!”
“Protect yourselves”.
“And each other!”
“And as always…”
“Support Harry Potter!”
You were still holding onto the radio a few minutes after the episode ended. Dean didn’t say anything, and you were grateful for that. You were still savouring the words you just heard. Fred and George’s voices. The names of your friends that were confirmed to be freed from the Ministry. The names of your family. You didn’t even realise you were shaking until Dean gently put his hand on your shoulder. You looked up at him in a surprise, as if you had completely forgotten that he was still there. He smiled at you softly as you put your hand onto his and squeezed it. There was only one thought on your mind. You looked straight into Dean’s eyes in a sudden burst of determination and said, in a quiet but clear voice,
“Dean… We have to find them”.
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acknowledgetheabsurd · 2 months
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I received your letter from Monday and Tuesday. I can feel that you are sad and a little discouraged, my dear child, and I would like to help you. But I am far from you and this great surge of love and tenderness that is throwing me towards you at the moment, you cannot feel its warmth. I love you and I understand you. If my heart, close to you, has never stopped being a little sad, even in our greatest joys (no, I forgot, sometimes, when happiness made me drunk, literally) it is because I have never stopped thinking about what I was frustrating you with. But I have always had, and this is my excuse, the blind hope that one day I will fulfill your expectations.
Yes, I am far from you and there are others in my life. But it seems to me that this life is so little a life that you do not lose much. I pass through the days and the presences, in a kind of dream - giving nothing and receiving nothing, not as unhappy as I should be, except by crises, never happy however, except in the reverie. It remains, however, that these days are lost to true happiness. But I am determined to make you lie when you predict that we will waste other days. Don't be sad, my dearest love. We still lack many things, but we have conquered many more. What we already have cannot be measured. And this is what makes us predict that we will overcome everything.
Too old! Are you crazy? You are just starting to live. And life still has all its joys and fruitfulness to give you. Its pains too, of course. But a great and faithful love is the crucible where joys and sorrows melt to become greatness and goodness. At least that is the hope I have for you. I could say that I am old, with much more reason. I have lived through many things, I have grown up very quickly, and my body itself... And yet I still feel strong enough to rebuild everything around me. You are my strength, it is true.  And if today you did not exist, life would be an unbearable desert for me, in the state I am in.
Patience, my dear, and courage. If the most lucid and passionate love can do anything in this world, I will see your deep face of happiness again. Love me at least and be confident. The day is gray. I went down to Grasse this morning to take my X-ray. The doctor thinks I am on the right track, as always. It's true that I have a terrible suspicion of him. This makes his opinion less valuable. We'll know more in March. But in any case I will not return to the mountains and I will remain in Paris. I will live in slow motion, but I will live near you.
The letter you sent me made me dream. The talent of the public! Let's talk about it. We write, we play, we create for a few, that's the truth - and it's hard to say for someone who would like to create for all. Tell me how our modest Torrens is doing. My love, my beautiful and great love, I would like you to finish this letter with a sweet warmth in your heart - with the certainty of love, with my lips on your neck and my arms around you. I love you and I am waiting for you. Goodbye, my darling, my beach, my sweet. I kiss you very tenderly, to begin with...
Albert Camus to Maria Casarès, Correspondance, February 8, 1950 [#178]
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tigersullivan01 · 10 months
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Mother figure Alma Peregrine x Teen Reader - little trouble pt1
Having the capability to transform into a Fox as a peculiarly isn’t ideal, people don’t take the time before judging you. Being labeled a thief the moment they know is quite harsh to go through every time you enter a new loop with a new ymbryne, it makes you throw hope out the window and become what they label you as. 
So being sent off to another loop isn’t surprising, although having Miss Avocet transport you is. I never liked the old woman, she is full of herself. Everything she says has to be right because she said so. 
Sitting on the train in complete boredom with my small torn up bag with an extra shirt and my green frog stuffy, maybe i could nick some wallets? 
“I’m going to the loo” I mutter before standing up and weaving through the crowd of passengers, slipping my hands into pockets and slipping out wallets, watches, jewelry and notebooks. 
What? Notebooks contain interesting stuff, like gossip or interesting facts, or a look into the life of person I stole from. Setting back down in my seat beside Miss Avocet, sliding my goods into my torn bag. The old hag grabs my wrist and pulls me out of the train towards the docks, the sky’s sending down drizzling rain making the streets muddy and filled with water. Looking at the people we pass and snagging a few more valuables before we get to the ticket booth. 
“Two tickets please…….there you go……thank you”
 Grabbing my wrist again after buying the tickets and pulling me on the ferry. 
“OKAY! No need to drag me around like a stray dog!” I say irritated and getting slapped across the face from Miss Avocet as a response. 
“Do not speak like that young child! Show respect for your elders and you may have a home one day, ungrateful child. I’m sending you to Miss Peregrine, she’ll put you straight. She’s my best student and a strong woman, she’ll crack you in a few days. If not then you’ll be on your own”
Good can a woman spit less when talking through her anger? I’m practically soaked in her saliva! Grumbling as I sit down on the wet beach as un-proper as possible, spreading my legs widely and sitting on the edge, leaning back with my arms crossed over my chest. 
“Sit properly child! Straighten that back and knees together!” 
As the ferry docks the dock on the small island Miss Avocet grabs my wrist AGAIN and dragging me through the small town and muddy streets, through the brush and towards the loop entrance, out of the cave on the other side and up the front steps of the gigantic brick house. Almost slamming my head against the door from the abrupt stop, the doors open sharply. Revealing a tall raven/ blue haired woman in her mid twenties? A feminine suit and a pipe, sharp eyes and a commanding look. 
“Esmeralda! Glad to see that you’ve made it safely. Is this my new ward?”
“Alma dearest! It’s a pleasure to se you again, although I wish it was under better circumstances, yes this rascal is your new ward. I warn you they live up to their namesake, they have light fingers. Now I must be of, goodbye dear and you child” she puts a finger against my chest. 
“I suggest you behave, or you’ll become an orphan without an orphanage to take you in” with that she leaves. 
“Please come in dear, I’m Miss Peregrine delighted to meet you” she introduced herself and walks inside, I follow after her fast pace. 
“Y/n…..Y/n Fox” she smiles and puts a cup of tea in my hands and pulls me to the back garden. 
“The twins and Clare, Hugh with the bees and Millard the invisible one, the girl with big shoes is Emma and the redhead is Olive. Enoch is in the window on the second floor to the right, Fiona is the girl in the garden and Bronwyn is the girl that’s helping her, the boy reading in the grass is Horace” she points everyone out and turning to me. 
“I understand that you’re not the easy child to look after. Your previous ymbryne sent me a long letter about your….capabilities. I’d like to make my own observations before I jump to conclusions, how about take you to your room?” 
“Yea”  She walks inside putting the cups on the kitchen counter before walking upstairs and opens the door furthest down the corridor to the left. The room is small, a bed in the corner, dresser against the wall and a window beside it and a small rug on the floor. 
“Make yourself comfortable, supper is at five” she smiles before leaving, I push the door shut and pull out the notebooks, wallets and my frog stuffy and sit down on the bed, making myself comfortable and starts going through the wallets, counting the money and looking at the different bruises cards and notes, throwing the wallets in a pile in the corner of the room for later and moving onto the notebooks. Reading through them, and severely judging people on a few points in their notes, I hear a clock wringing. I guess it’s already super then. Walking downstairs and towards the chatter from other children I find the dining room and an empty seat beside Emma? I think that was the blonde’s name and Miss Peregrine. Sitting down and looking over my pre filled plate in front of me. 
“Go ahead and eat before it gets cold” 
Miss Peregrine announces and the children starts eating, I only push the food around and nibble on some meat. 
“What’s your peculiarity?” The boy with bees asks. 
“I can transform into a fox” I mumble uninterested. 
“So you’re a thief?” The boy that smells like death asks. A hole minute and around forty seconds before I’m one’s again labeled a thief because of my peculiarity. Called it!  
“Enoch! We do not greet our guests like that, apologize!” Miss Peregrines practically growled at the death boy. Receiving a glare from the boy as the dinner continued uneventful. 
“Go and get ready for bed so we can watch the movie” the children goes upstairs quickly but i don’t bother, i don’t even own pjs. I simply walk away and transforms into a Fox and follow the first child to the movie room when they come downstairs. I lay down underneath one of the sofa’s as the rest of the children filter into the room, Miss Peregrine standing in the doorway. 
“Where is our newcomer?” She asks confused and i wag my tail from side to side so she’ll se me. 
“Oh there you are, come here” To my surprise she pulls me out from underneath the sofa and picks me up in her arms before returning to her spot in the doorway and turning the lights off. Staying in stunned silence in the woman’s arms, this has definitely never happened, not even my own mother touched me, specially not in this form.
Horace’s dream is about clothes, suits and ties and that fancy stuff I’ll never afford. After that I’m carried outside and put down in the slightly damp grass as the others prepare for reset. A few smaller fighter planes flights over us followed by a larger aircraft that drops the bomb, after the day is rewinded again we all head inside. I quickly run upstairs to my room and curl up in a ball wrapped inside my frog stuffy and the covers, I hear the clicking of heals and feel the smell of Miss Peregrine as she enters the room. 
“Good night Y/n” she says before leaving again. I lay there for a few minutes, another first, my first time someone wished me a good night. Odd 
Hello I give you this as an apology for the latest one i posted, it wasn’t good. I’ll do the second part as soon as possible, I’m myself not patient when it comes to waiting for upcoming parts. - Tiger
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taddymason · 6 months
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One question (in fact there are several, sorry for the inconvenience): Does the Administration give Jay field work and vehicle repair and things just because they can't understand Jay's writing?
And I'm not saying this because Jay has unintelligible handwriting, I'm saying this because Ninjago has its own alphabet. So Jay does his mission reports or general paperwork but when he presents it all the others see is just a bunch of lines and symbols that barely resemble letters or simplified Japanese kanji.
If that's the case, does Jay teach Kaida some of the Ninjago language or writing to make it like his "secret language"? It could also be a way for Jay to remember where he came from and/or his parents, with the bonus of being able to write in a report "I hate this job." and no one will know what it means besides Jay.
Along with this, there is also the question: Does Jay have any Ninjago customs that seem strange to The Administration? Not only that he grew up in the desert and from there he develops certain habits, I mean as a custom or a common behavior in Ninjago.
How to bow to ask for forgiveness, thank you, good morning (asking for forgiveness they may have to force you to do it and that is why you bow respectfully); taking off your shoes when you get to your apartment, considering that Ninjago is loosely based on Asian culture, also what would be New Year's Day and All Souls' Day. I imagine Jay not wanting to celebrate All Souls' Day because he doesn't believe his parents are dead or anything, but there is still some respect for the day.
AAA I love these asks sm!!
Does the Administration give Jay field work and vehicle repair and things just because they can't understand Jay's writing?
Mainly it's because Jay's skills and powers are too valuable not to have him as a field agent, but just that is also an important factor. I imagine that eventually the more technologically advanced kingdoms would build translators for the other inhabitants' different alphabets and languages after a few years. Although of course, Jay eventually learns the alphabet so he can make reports and read his missions when they enlist him to do that.
If that's the case, does Jay teach Kaida some of the Ninjago language or writing to make it like his "secret language"?
I don't know how you guessed it but in fact in chapter 3 Kaida sees Jay working on a blueprint for an invention and actually asks him to teach her the ninjago alphabet so they can use it to communicate. Also the idea of Jay writing messages that no one understands like "I hate my job" or "Sharon is useless" is perfect imao. And yes, Sharon also exists here (thanks @finn-m-corvex)
Does Jay have any Ninjago customs that seem strange to The Administration? Not only that he grew up in the desert and from there he develops certain habits, I mean as a custom or a common behavior in Ninjago
Yes, a lot actually, especially expressions and phrases that they don't understand. Not only because Jay grew up in the desert and the Administration is basically a big city, but because both kingdoms have a huge time gap. While Ninjago has a more primitive technology and people behave in a less strict way, in the Administration they have more advances but people behave in a much more structured way.
Also Jay and Kaida use the Administration calendar so they don't really know what date it is in Ninjago but they still celebrate the holidays every year.
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geneeste · 3 months
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I’ve been ranting about this in the group chat, but the more I think about it, the angrier I get.
So J, our 10yo, took state testing before the break and apparently scored high on one of the reading sections. Now I put almost zero weight on testing like this, but this was a win for J in particular because she’s always struggled mightily with reading. But she did well on the test, and it was a confidence boost for her, but I’m fully aware she managed that because of reading interventions, and not because of “gifted” instruction.
Anyway, we got this email before the winter break:
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So this is…weird. Especially this part:
Your child's performance on the CogAT indicates a need to gather more information in order to support the school team in making instructional decisions. Student scores in the 95th percentile or above initiate the Gifted Identification Referral Process, which includes gathering additional achievement, performance, and behavioral data for a comprehensive body of evidence.
All of the other kids save our youngest have been in gifted programs at some point, and in all of the seven school districts we’ve been in so far, I’ve never been asked to justify their selection for the program. Add to that, a 30-minute questionnaire seemed excessive, but I thought, hey, maybe this is just a standard I haven’t run into yet. (Also, neither linked letter elaborated on this; one was related to testing, and the second was this email in PDF form).
And then we got into the survey, y’all. Y’ALL.
I ran into the image limit for this post, so I can’t post the whole questionnaire, so I tried to pick the most egregious parts:
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So. We start going through this thing and to say I was (am) livid is an understatement. Just. What the fuck.
Asking me to justify my kid’s specialness
Basing giftedness on totally irrelevant and also classist, ableist bullshit things like vocabulary, how quickly they learn something, attention span I COULD GO ON AND ON
Asking my kid to design instruction?? She’s ten fucking years old?
Asking my struggling reader, whom you’ve already identified as both needing reading intervention and having demonstrated huge growth, to give a fucking reading list to justify access to services?
I’m seriously so mad about the last part because talking about that question made J feel ashamed about how she dreads reading so she doesn’t actually read much, so when she does it’s short books and graphic novels, and we lost a lot of ground we’d gained about how she should be proud of her ability and progress. Fuckers.
So. We were not pleased. Here’s what I wrote back, which was almost certainly not as mean as I should have been:
My husband and I started this survey and although we completed it, I found it frustrating and prejudiced and genuinely insulting.
It is not at all clear what relevance many of the questions have to J’s academic ability and frankly with 4 neurodivergent children, 3 of whom (including J) having been in gifted programs previously, some of these questions were worded in ways that implied that a child had to think in a certain way in order to be gifted. For instance, why would a child needing some repetition to learn something mean that they can't be gifted? It's insulting and neuro-normative, to say the least.
I have never been asked to fill out a survey justifying my child's intellectual ability in order for my child to get access to educational services. I mean, what parent would answer otherwise? And what child wouldn't flourish when given engaging content?
I understand that district resources might be limited, but surely there is a less prejudiced and discriminatory way to screen for access to additional educational resources.
Here’s what the coordinator responded with:
Thank you for filling the survey out and for the feedback. The purpose of the survey is to gain valuable insight from parents about their child's strengths, interests and abilities that may not be evident in a school setting. We are looking to build a comprehensive portfolio of information to be used in the Gifted Identification Process to inform our programming and align it with student needs. The responses on the Gifted ID Referral form are not "weighted" or assigned points or used in any way that might preclude a child from Gifted Identification. They are used for informational purposes to gain a deeper understanding of a child.
Which is, frankly, total bullshit. Remember up there where the initial email where it said the survey was for instructional decisions and gathering a body of evidence? And the survey itself says:
Once this form is complete and submitted, your school's Gifted Education Facilitator will be notified. They will then gather additional necessary evidence/data to complete the process.
The coordinator has been so persistent since this reply - 4 emails asking us to talk about J’a participation when we’ve already made it clear that if the qualification process is any indication of how the gifted program is run, J’s much better off staying in class with her peers.
Anyway. Phew. I’ve been stewing about this and just writing it down has been very cathartic.
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About Love,
On the 10th of November 1958, John Steinbeck wrote this paper to his son Thomas, after he confessed that he was in love.
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Dear Thom:
We had your letter this morning. I will answer it from my point of view and of course Elaine will from hers.
First—if you are in love—that’s a good thing—that’s about the best thing that can happen to anyone. Don’t let anyone make it small or light to you.
Second—There are several kinds of love. One is a selfish, mean, grasping, egotistical thing which uses love for self-importance. This is the ugly and crippling kind. The other is an outpouring of everything good in you—of kindness and consideration and respect—not only the social respect of manners but the greater respect which is recognition of another person as unique and valuable. The first kind can make you sick and small and weak but the second can release in you strength, and courage and goodness and even wisdom you didn’t know you had.
You say this is not puppy love. If you feel so deeply—of course it isn’t puppy love.
But I don’t think you were asking me what you feel. You know better than anyone. What you wanted me to help you with is what to do about it—and that I can tell you.
Glory in it for one thing and be very glad and grateful for it.
The object of love is the best and most beautiful. Try to live up to it.
If you love someone—there is no possible harm in saying so—only you must remember that some people are very shy and sometimes the saying must take that shyness into consideration.
Girls have a way of knowing or feeling what you feel, but they usually like to hear it also.
It sometimes happens that what you feel is not returned for one reason or another—but that does not make your feeling less valuable and good.
Lastly, I know your feeling because I have it and I’m glad you have it.
We will be glad to meet Susan. She will be very welcome. But Elaine will make all such arrangements because that is her province and she will be very glad to. She knows about love too and maybe she can give you more help than I can.
And don’t worry about losing. If it is right, it happens—The main thing is not to hurry. Nothing good gets away.
Love,
Fa
John Steinbeck
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