#so ironically some of the people who claim to be woke hate working class and disabled people who don't know the terms

[x--daughters-of-darkness--x]

Spiritbox’s Courtney LaPlante: "Men have been taught by society that they are superior to us"

Named after a paranormal device used to contact ghosts, Canadian post-metalcore trio Spiritbox have been hailed by fans and critics alike as one of the best new bands to watch in 2021. Arriving on the scene back in 2017, Spiritbox found themselves spiralling into greater success following the release of their 2020 single Holy Roller – its Midsommar-style music video has over 2 million views and counting.

Now signed to Rise Records, Spiritbox are in the midst of recording their highly-anticipated debut album, and vocalist Courtney LaPlante has started a brand new podcast Good For A Girl. The podcast is an inside look at the realities and challenges of being a woman in the music industry, with a sharp focus on the male-dominated world that is the metal scene. LaPlante was in metal band Iwrestledabearonce before starting Spiritbox, and on the podcast she speaks to other women who are claiming their space within the business, like musicians, Radio DJs, record executives and more.

In conversation with the Spiritbox leader, we learn about her industry life lessons, her experience with ultra-sexist record labels, and the state of the band's upcoming new record.

When and why did you come up with the idea for the Good For A Girl podcast?

“I came up with it because I was trying to figure out something to offer our patrons on our Patreon page. It’s also an excuse for me to hang out with other women, as I live on an island in Canada so I haven’t really come across many women in the industry, and I haven’t on my travels either. It was a way for me to learn from them and I got such a great reaction from our patrons too. Plus, every musician in the industry during the pandemic has made a podcast. I didn’t even think of doing it as I didn’t wanna clog up the radio waves, but then I thought about it more, and realised that one like this was missing.

“It’s an escapism thing, too. I thought that it would be important for other people, not just women, to listen to us and humanise us. I think people forget that women are 50 percent of the population of the world, so there’s not really an excuse to be so out of touch with us being actual, real, multi-faceted people.”

Is this why Good For A Girl is important to you?

“Yes because that’s all of us. It’s a thing [as women] we all hear. Like, ‘Yeah you’re good...for a girl.’ The only people that we put in a different class are children. Like, ‘He’s a really good guitar player for a 5 year old’.”

Working in the music industry, what would you say has been the most important thing you’ve learnt and what has been the biggest surprise?

“I’ve biggest thing I’ve learnt is to really advocate for yourself and to not be so caught up in being worried about pleasing people. Because honestly when it comes down to it, if it’s not an authentic thing and you’re just trying to make sure everyone’s getting along, it always bites you in the ass in the end. I’d much rather someone think I’m a bitch and not want to work with me, rather than me work with them under a condition that I’m not really doing what I want to do.

“And a big surprise for me has been the amount of amazing women behind the scenes. That there’s all these women working out there that are there for me, that I didn’t even know existed.”

In metal especially, there usually seems to be a community of individuals who tend to react negatively to anything they define as “woke”, like women-led, political, etc. What has been the reaction to the podcast so far, and have you experienced any of this backlash?

“A little bit, but that’s what is so interesting about it. Sometimes you get so worked up about people being negative towards what you’re doing, or being frustrated because they’re clearly not understanding what you’re saying. Then you look at it and it’s the same people that are the loudest, so it’s really not that many people. I’ll go through and think, ‘Look at these mean comments’, and then I’ll be like, wait a second, this the same three guys, commenting the same stuff over and over.

“And then the day before International Women’s Day, I wrote a piece for Kerrang!, and it’s so ironic if you read it, because the article is basically me just explaining some of my negative experiences. The article is not really speaking to men, it's speaking to other women, specifically white women about how we need to actually hold ourselves accountable to have all women to be a part of feminism, and not just post infographics on our Instagram to make us feel woke and superior. We have to actually protect each other and have some intersectionality in our feminism. But the comments are literally just guys saying that I’m making up my experiences. They are there to invalidate my experiences, and it’s so ironic because there are no women in there going, ‘Wait a second, don’t paint all women the same way, we aren’t all a bunch of performative-wokeness ladies!'"

Would you say it's similar to being classed as a “female-fronted” band, as opposed to being known for your genre?

“Yeah, it’s so bizarre. And also, there’s the other side to it, the swing of the pendulum is that guys will think they are complimenting you by saying, ‘I hate all female metal vocalists they are all horrible and they suck, but you’re good. All the other ones are all slutty whores, but I like that you wear a turtleneck.’ I’m literally butt naked in three of our music videos. Just because you chose not to sexualise me in that capacity, doesn’t mean that I’m not a sexual being.

“And it’s so interesting because if I am doing what I want, and maybe another time I dress more revealing because I think that’s fucking awesome, then those people are gonna feel betrayed in some way because through seeing you like a flat one-dimensional being, they think you can’t be both.

“But I think we can all be both professional and sexy. Just like a guy can be very responsible and non-sexual and then when he chooses to be objectified he can take his shirt off and choose whether to be objectified or not, where he feels comfortable.”

What are you aiming to change through your work on your podcast, if anything?

“I want to change the music industry and hold all these people accountable that have been gatekeeping it. Every success that a metal band has helps the rest of us. The women, or those who identify as women, or even non-binary people who are moving forward and succeeding helps all of us because it makes our voice bigger. I just want to keep growing and dominating so I can start to make a change from the inside.

“Like when we were going around to labels, there were so many labels that were so sexist, and they didn't even realise they were being sexist because they don’t understand it. So it feels so great to prove all those record labels wrong, and then actually get to revisit working with them and tell them why I chose not to work with them. Because worse case scenario it’ll make me feel I got to be like ‘fuck you’, and then best case scenario it helps change their behaviour."

What happened at those record labels?

“One time when we were shopping the band around two years ago, this label felt completely comfortable in saying, ‘Oh you know what, this band is cool but we already signed a girl metal band and it didn’t do very well.’ And I was like, ‘You also signed a 100 shitty guy metal bands that didn’t do very well, are you gonna not sign any more bands with men in them?’

“My manager said to me, ‘You know this is great, these people are making themselves loud and clear to us, and we know that we never need to entertain working with them. I’m happy they are being vocally misogynistic and sexist because we don’t have to waste our time.’”

In your first episode of the podcast you said men usually look at women in bands as “gimmicks”. What needs to change to get men to stop viewing women in this way?

“I think one of the things that need to change is that we just need metal to become a more diverse group of listeners. I was watching an old Metallica concert, and I looked out, it was during the Black album phase, and half the crowd was women. And if you look at heavy music, if you look at Black Sabbath or Led Zeppelin, half the crowd is women. And I feel like metal, if I’m just going off my own listenership, the 50 percent has really moved away from women and metal has become a very monolithic group of listeners. It’s straight white men. And there’s nothing wrong with those people listening to it, but I always feel that when a music genre has a very narrow scope of listeners, it usually has lasting problems on the genre for its staying power, because I don’t think you can really succeed in making lasting music if you’re not creating it for all different types of people.

“But I think it’s changing. I think metal is becoming more diverse and therefore the genre itself will become better and stronger, because I think that diversity creates better art. I really truly believe that, so I think that the pendulum is swinging back. Because that was the heyday of metal music; there were more people that listened to it. I feel now it's lost its way sometimes, but I think it's finding it again. I think metal really is becoming more powerful and good.

“That’s a long winded way of explaining why we’re looked at as a gimmick, but basically it’s because there's not a lot of us. And for some reason a lot of people only see the identity first when they see someone who looks different to them.”

You also mention that there’s a pattern of men or “haters” putting women down through belittling them or patronising them, etc. What do you think is the intention behind this?

“I think the reason why they do that is because men have been taught by society that they are superior to us, and they don’t really have a lot of evidence to dispute that because that's what most of us have been brought up thinking. And I think that as a musician, especially as a lead singer, you are like the ringleader, you are the commander in chief of the whole show, and that's generally a masculine trait, at least that’s what we’re taught.

“My experiences are just like everyone’s else's, and when people are like, ‘What's it like? [being a woman]’ and I’m like, ‘I don’t know, it’s the same as your job or any job, there’s a lot of stuff that's annoying and some stuff that's actually physically dangerous, and you’re actually in danger. And it frustrates me so much when people are surprised at that like, ‘Oh really? I didn’t know that you had been assaulted by a guy?’ and I’m like, ‘Have you ever met a human woman? Literally all of us have been.’ The math isn’t added up guys, all of us have had something bad happen to us but somehow none of you have done it.

“If I found that my whole demographic was doing some horrible thing, my first thought would not be, ‘Well, I don’t do it’, I’d be like, ‘Yeah, we gotta figure this shit out.’ I think it’s getting better though, I think not my generation but the next one, Gen Z, they are more humanist, I think they don’t see categories of people as much, they see you as human and then your sub category.”

So what can we expect in your later episodes of the podcast?

“Well in my first couple of episodes I’m talking to people that are more like myself,  frontwomen, such as Caity [Babbs from SiriusXM] who is an amazing radio host and like a leader. I talked to Booka [Nile] from Make Them Suffer, who’s very much in front of the scene. And soon I’ll be talking to my friend Chaney [Crabb] from the band Entheos.

“The last couple episodes of what I’ll be putting out from this season will feature the people behind the scenes who are actually running everything. Those are the people that I’m the most fascinated by because it’s not really my experience. I think of them as the faceless puppet masters controlling everything. I’m learning so much from these women who are so badass, they’re like who I want to be someday with the power that they have and the integrity. They trust their intuition so much because that's their job.”

And lastly, can you give any hints on what the new Spiritbox record sounds like, what state it’s in and what people should expect?

“We’ve done our album, we’re done physically tracking it. Now we’re about to get into the monotony of mixing it, but I can’t believe it. This is the first time I’ve said it out loud. I’ve only listened to it fully a couple times as of now, but at least till we have all the track placement, you can expect to get pummelled with full anger and sadness. Like over and over.

“I’ve got to figure out the tracklisting because it's too much, it's too intense, you need breathing room in an album. This is a product of something that we didn’t want to have two years to develop, but we got about a good year almost 2 years, so the songs feel very lived in. They feel very familiar because we’ve been working on them for so long. So Constance and Holy Roller are the two singles that we put out in 2020, which we consider the outliers of the album, and the rest is everything in between that. I told someone else it’ll be like you’re in the mosh pit but crying. Crying in the mosh pit.”

Spiritbox’s debut album is due for release this year via Rise Records. The first three episodes of the Good For A Girl podcast are available now.

#Courtney LaPlante #Spiritbox #2021 interviews

[anadvanceddegreeinquiet]

What, Me Pandemic? A Boho Crowd Stakes Its Claim (and Claims Its $48 Steaks)

Fricasse Dubois, 21, lamented the decision to pull her latest concrete poem from The Codswalloped Pisspot as she passed one of the whimsical “Maine-ducks-in-flight” mailboxes that serve as newspaper bins for the red-hot downtown rag. But her friend and intern, Banshee Fitzgerald, 33, had made a good point: The Pisspot had been flirting with questionable taste for months now. 

First there was the ironic opera libretto by Steve Bannon, which cast Leo “KIDS” Fitzpatrick as a Muslim refugee in a Copenhagen no-go zone. Then there was the edgy faux-memoir from Terry Richardson, modeled on O.J. Simpson’s unpublished “If I Did It,” and accompanied by a portfolio of Juergen Teller ass-Xeroxes.

But now, the Pisspot hype was growing, and Dubois realized that she might miss the proverbial boat. Interest in the nascent publishing venture was at fever pitch; a SPAC had been formed by laid-off Gagosian and Perrotin directors eager to stage a hostile takeover of the irregularly published ‘zine. 

And a dash of infamy certainly helped—the paper’s co-editor, Stizzy Fugger, had just launched a Tumblr in which she tallied the number of people she had inadvertently infected with Covid-19, updated in real-time (12,617 at press time, if you’re keeping score, more than the Sturgis Motorcycle Rally).

Anyone who has witnessed a “Pisspot drop” in the Dimes Square neighborhood of Manhattan knows to expect pandemonium. But nothing could have prepared this reporter for the foamy-mouthed jubilee and ecstatic violence of the occasion. 

It was 11am on a Tuesday, and the editors appeared at the corner of Seward Park, bearing several cardboard boxes of the paper. They were trailed by the usual suspects: Pimple-necked sadcore rappers, sex-positive Zoom therapists, former Artforum critic’s pickers who now run content for Chipotle, and middle-aged men who really shouldn’t skateboard.  

It’s a truism that an issue of Pisspot isn’t really read so much as it is imbibed, absorbed via the osmosis of social media’s orgiastic frenzy. In fact, the Times had a great deal of difficulty locating anyone who had physically held a copy of the paper in their smooth, unlined hands; many preferred to experience it as a series of fuzzy, thumbnail-sized images posted ironically on MySpace. 

“People used to say they read Playboy for the ads,” said Kit Murano, a fish-eyed, forty-something member of a downtown-based Adderall (™) street team. “Pisspot doesn’t have ads. And no one who knows anything would be caught, like, just sitting there and flipping through the thing. It’s an attitude. It’s an essence. It’s a lifestyle.”

Okay, sure—but what about the actual content actually published in each issue? Imagine an early iteration of Vice cross-pollinated with Tiger Beat, and then add a splash of sexual-harassment-era Paris Review. It’s a bit silly, and a bit loose. Bret Easton Ellis contributes a crossword puzzle in which every answer is just another reason why millennials suck. A party report—‘Reamed & Furred’—diligently transcribes the coke-addled bon mots of the same group of six people all eating at the same restaurant every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday evening. 

If there’s an ethos gluing all of this together, it’s a passing-of-the-torch from an older bohemian guard to a younger demographic, with their laissez-faire attitudes about sex, drugs, and global pandemics. “It’s, like, we can all still party together, and age isn’t really ‘a thing’,” explains Murano, leaning out the window of a Mini Cooper wrapped in shiny SunGen Pharma adverts.

The entire scene revolves around the lopsided triangle known as “Dimes Square,” which borrows its moniker from the culinary hotspot Dimes. (The name derives from Cockney rhyming slang for ‘elongated pinky nail.’). Every New York story is also, of course, a story about real estate. In this case, that means the Connecticut country houses that this cohort has Airbnbed out while remaining to weather the storm in lower Manhattan. 

Parts of this scene are “white, but probably ambisexual-adjacent; they’re members of the creative class, but they possess enough self-hatred to seem authentic,” says Dash Johnson, a Dimes Square hanger-on who many suspect of running the Steak-Umms social media accounts. “Most of them used to work for galleries, or websites, or Garage magazine, but when those jobs dried up, they woke up one morning and said: Fuck it. Let’s stop pretending. Let’s just tweet.”

One essential element of any good scene is a gossip column to keep track—and to keep score. ArtWet’s “Wet Ass Pigment” plays that role for the Dimes Square cognoscenti. It’s a bleeding-edge social diary written by an anonymous, Gossip Girl-style correspondent who communicates solely via Signal, using a vocal transformer. 

“I was sick of trying to break into this world,” they said. “I was sick of meeting Anthony Haden-Guest at a dinner, for the 387th time, and having him introduce himself all over again, like we hadn’t both thrown up in the same toilet less than three days before. Fuck gatekeepers. I built my own gate, and then I started keeping it.” 

It was a Wet Ass Pigment column, in fact, which broke the season’s buzziest news: semi-disgraced first son Hunter Biden had bought an octoplex apartment directly above Dimes, where he’ll be staying as he prepares for a September solo exhibition that will open concurrently across Andrew Kreps, 56 Henry, Shoot the Lobster, and a pop-up space for Recess CBD seltzer. Unlike the gentle, “meditative” paintings that Biden had been making in recovery, the new work is brash and rudely vulgar—the product of an unexpected friendship Biden had struck up with Bjarne Melgaard and Jordan Wolfson. 

Meanwhile, the group’s literary face remains 29-year-old Katarina Klaus, whose razor-sharp prose skewers her surroundings with the acidic wit of a young Evelyn Waugh. “I’ll be honest, I fucking hate writing,” Klaus admitted, blowing her nose into a Telfar bag. “I’m both super motivated and super lazy. Sometimes I’ll just copy-paste random chunks of Speedboat into a column and no one will even notice.”

So what’s next for this ragtag crew? “Dimes Square will probably be over by the time this fucking article comes out,” Klaus laments. “You’re going to have, like, some TikTok influencer house on the corner of Canal and Essex, and all the coke will have fentanyl in it again because idiots from New Jersey just have no nose. You know what? I’m regretting this already. This is all off the record.”

Meanwhile, Klaus is already rethinking her involvement in Pisspot. With a current print run of 250 copies, the instantly iconic newspaper suddenly seems a bit too exposed. She’s in discussions with a new, unnamed venture that would distribute articles and essays in a serialized format, via fortunes randomly inserted into cookies at various Chinese restaurants within a three-block radius of the Square. “It’s all about ephemerality,” she says, sucking on a DMT vape she brought back from Mexico City. “It’s all about staying relevant.”

This article was lovingly rewritten from the original by Scott Indrisek.

CORRECTION: The above edition of this story mistakenly cites Kit Murano’s age as “forty-something,” based on our reporter’s visual guesstimation. She is actually 19.   

CORRECTION: ‘Dimes’ is in fact Cockney prison rhyming slang for the expression, “a bent knob is straight twice a day.”

CORRECTION: An earlier online version of this story mistakenly identified The Codswalloped Pisspot as The Duct-Taped Shitberg.

CORRECTION: An earlier, subscribers-only post of this story mislabeled the gossip blog Wet Ass Pigment as being a Spotify podcast called Wank ‘n Pose.

CORRECTION: Jordan Wolfson died in 2014. 

CORRECTION: An earlier Google Doc of this story referenced a non-existent ‘hardcore maternity diary’ by Chloe Sevigny, which most likely did not appear in issue 4 of the Codtaped Shitpot. 

CORRECTION: A version of this story that was sent to hapless print subscribers in Texas and Connecticut wrongly identified the geographic boundaries of “Dimes Square” as being East 45th Street, Central Park West, Freeman’s Alley, and Bedford Avenue.

[hoovii]

If You Only Knew, You'd Hate Me

Pairing: Bucky Buchanan x OMC (Zebediah Kaskitt)

Summary: Bucky and Zebediah had a fleeting interaction years ago and Zeb has been hung up on the boy ever since. Even with his arrogant and dismissive exterior, Zeb still tries to make a connection.

Warnings: swearing, shitty parenting, physical abuse, emotional abuse, biphobia, talk of abortion, angst, but not completely

Tagging some people I know wanted to read: @btrmuffins @lykenbcrn @diagnosed-crazy

Let me know if you want to be tagged

_

Bucky was exhausted. He had taken a beating when his mother found out about the B he had gotten on his calculus test. How did he manage to fuck up so badly? He had been doing so well. He was getting perfect grades. He kept the house clean and had been preparing meals. He hadn't earned a punishment in days.

Bucky came home from school in a good mood. He hadn't gotten into any confrontations. Everything had gone smoothly. His mother sat at the kitchen island, waiting for him. Bucky immediately tensed. He knew he had done something wrong. He could tell by the look on her face. Had he forgotten to do the dishes? Or bring in the mail? He'd brought the laundry downstairs, right?

"Have a seat."

Bucky quickly took a seat on one of the stools. He looked at his feet, eye contact was disrespectful. She took his hand in hers, setting them on the table. She was always so calm when she spoke to him, the opposite of his father.

"I saw your calculus test."

He hadn't even seen that test yet. Obviously he hadn't done well. Calculus was hard and he remembered struggling during that test.

"You got a B? That is unacceptable Bucky. You understand that you need to be taught a lesson right?"

Of course he did. He should've studied harder. He should have put more work in. He should've played closer attention in class. He needed this. He deserved this.

"Yes ma'am." He nodded.

She slammed his hand into the marble three times exactly. He held the tears in. He'd learned not to cry, it only made things worse.

"Now, do your chores and study."

He did the dishes first. There weren't many, only the ones his mother's breakfast this morning. He didn't let himself cry until he was in the basement. He pulled the clothes down that stuck to the bottom of the shoot. As he sorted the whites and brights the tears continued to race down his cheeks. His hand throbbed, he could still move it so it wasn't broken. It was a reminder to do better though. How could he be so stupid? He couldn't even do well on a simple math test. He wasn't good enough for anything.

Later that evening he was studying his calculus, running over and rerunning over the content he wasn't absolutely certain on. He heard his father and mother talking in the room next over. He knew it wouldn't be good. He knew he didn't want to hear it, but his curiosity got the better of him.

"Your son got a B on his Calculus test." His mother.

"A B! That boy. When will he learn?" His father's yelling and thundering footsteps.

"I already handled it, dear."

"God, that kid really can't do anything. 'I want a child' you said. How well that turn out? The kid's a fuck up."

"Yes, I know, but what were we supposed to do? Get rid of it? We would be the laughing stock of the town."

Bucky toned them out. He knew his father was right, but it still hurt to hear. He lied there for hours just staring at the ceiling. He passed out sometime in the early hours of the morning.

He woke up tired. Bucky got up at 5:59 am every morning, making sure to shut his alarm off before it could wake his parents. He didn't need to be taught that lesson, especially not today. Today was the first day of cheer. He couldn't afford not to be in good physical health. His parents did love him though. They just had a different way of showing it. They pushed him to be the best be could be. It could've been worse.

On cue he shut the alarm off on his phone and quietly made his way to the bathroom. He had a dull throbbing in his hand. It would have to be covered, along with the dark circles under his eyes. God why was he such a mess all the time?

He took the red lipstick, concealer, and powder that he bought and started to paint his skin back to perfection. That was an awkward trip to the store. Everybody knows him so of course, the cashier gave him the eye. He had claimed it was for his mother. What a good son he was. He shopped for his mother. Nobody could ever find out about what went on in his house. It would be the end of him.

Bucky had to make sure everything was perfect before leaving. Short curls styled, varsity jacket ironed and pressed, teeth sparkling white. He skipped breakfast, hurrying to his vehicle. It was flashy and loud, like him. He had to make it to the school by seven so he could meet Principal Lee and the Aceys for a student council meeting. He walked into the school and greeting the group with his million-dollar smile.

_

"Zebediah, it's time to get up kiddo!"

Zebediah rolled to check his phone. He groggily wiped the sleep from his eyes. 'CHEER TRYOUTS' shined directly in his face. Of course! Today was cheer tryouts. He hadn't made the cut last year, but he had worked his ass off over the summer to be able to make the squad this year. He quickly got dressed wearing one of his nicest outfits, which to be fair wasn't very nice, but it was what he had. He trotted down the stairs to a cauliflower breakfast.

"Hey, Zeb. You're looking snazzy today."

His dad said, falling into his chair at the table.

"It's cheer tryouts, remember honey? He's trying to impress that boy."

Zeb's pa took his seat beside his dad, handing him the days paper.

"Oh that's right, so we decided on boys now?"

Zebediah shrunk in on himself. He finished his breakfast as quickly as he could before heading outside. Why did they have to do that? Why couldn't they just accept that he liked boys and girls? Out of all people he thought they would understand. But they still loved him. It could've been worse.

Zeb paused in front of Zebina's door, waiting for her to come out. He bounced up and down on his toes, nervousness,, and excitement filling him. Zebina finally ran out the door, ponytail in her mouth as she tried to fix her hair up out of her face.

"Come on Diah, we're going to be late."

Zebina pushed him down the steps and down the street.

"No we're not Bena, it's 7:30."

"Yeah, Diah. We're supposed to be there at 7:30."

She grumbled something and they walked, well Zeb sort of skipped.

"Wanna study after school?"

"Sorry Bena, no can do. I've got cheer tryouts today." He gave a cheeky grin.

"You mean you have to go stare at Bucky today. You how big of an asshole he is right?"

But Zeb wasn't listening, already off in a daydream. Bucky wasn't as bad as everyone said. Okay, maybe he was kind of a dick, but he was pretty. Not that that was important, but it didn't hurt. he had redeeming qualities, and that's what Zeb liked to focus on. He had seen them before.

A couple of years ago Zeb was out after curfew. He had snuck out of Zombietown and into the nicer side of Seabrook. It was beautiful. The colors were stunning, even in the dark everything was so much brighter than Zombietown. Pastels peaked at him, shining brighter in every street light. Zeb could stare forever. Pinks, blues, yellows. They had grass and not just grass; they had flowers. Flowers that bloomed in even more colors than the houses. He could live here. He could find someone and he could be happy. They could buy a little pink house. They could have a dog, and kids. Yeah, he could definitely live here.

The sound of a trashcan hitting the pavement and a yelp drew his attention to a nearby alley and a figure laying on the ground in it. Zeb debated making a run for it but that stupid little angel on his shoulder made him check to see if the person was okay. He pulled his hood to cover more of his face before making his way over.

The person, who, now, clearly was a boy, sat on his knees, staring at the pavement. Zebediah held out his hand. The boy stared it before slowly taking it. He went to look Zeb in the eyes but Zeb hid his face. This, of course, didn't stop him from seeing the tears that stained his cheeks and the ones that still threatened to fall. A bruise was forming on his face, he assumed from the fall.

"Are you okay?"

"Please, don't tell anybody." 

Zeb could barely get out his sentence before the boy blurted it out. He sounded so desperate, a sob hidden in his sentence.

"As long as you don't tell anybody."

Again, his little chuckle was interrupted by the grief in his voice.

"Yes, yeah, of course. Anything."

The two stood in a long silence, neither moving to leave.

"I have to go," Zeb finally spoke. "But you should get yourself fixed up."

"Thank you."

Zebediah could not stop thinking about that night. He couldn't get the boy's face out of his head. And when he was finally allowed to go to school with people. He was elated. Maybe he'd see him again. He wasn't expecting to see his face plastered all over the school. Bucky. Bucky Buchanan. He liked it. He thought maybe Bucky would've been that quiet kid in the back of the class. Not the most popular kid in the school. And certainly not the one leading the raid against zombies.

It definitely was a blow that Bucky wouldn't give him the time of day, or that he didn't remember him. To be fair, he hadn't given him much to remember. Zeb still clung onto that exchange. He was a better person than he was acting like. If he would just show it. Oh, how he wished he could be the one to bring that out in him.

When he learned that zombies could be on the cheer squad last year he was elated. That was another chance to get close to Bucky. That split second when Bucky looked him in the eye as he ripped up his number card in half was heaven. Zebediah swears up and down that there was a soft in his face. Zebina calls bullshit. This year he was almost positive he was going to make the squad this year. He had been working hard over the summer and this year Addison was the cheer captain. Addison was way more lenient than Bucky.

"Hey jackass, are you listening to me?"

Zeb blinked back into his surroundings.

"What? Yeah."

"What did I say then?"

"You were stressing out for no reason over the psychology test that you are undoubtedly going to ace."

"Lucky guess." Bina gave him a look.

They were at school already. You know what they say. Time flies when you're daydreaming about a ten-minute interaction that happened years ago. It was fifteen till eight, which meant that Bucky and the Aceys would be going in to sit at their table soon.

"I want breakfast."

Zeb immediately beelined for the cafeteria, already forgetting his promise of eating. He found the table they always sat at. It had a perfect inconspicuous viewing spot. Bucky also had to walk by it on his way. God, what was taking Bina so long? She had to sit down before they walked by or else Bucky would think he was a loser with no friends.

Zebina sat down next to him starting to eat her food before Zebediah knocked the breakfast sandwich out of her hands.

"Hey Bucky. Hope your first day of cheer season goes well."

The four didn't acknowledge the comment and proceeded to sit at their table, engaged in their own conversation. 

"I think he smiled."

Zeb sighed, leaning his head into his hand. His eyes never wavered from their target.

"I think you're delusional."

Bina could say what she wanted but Zeb knew what he saw. Bucky smiled at him. Today was going to be a good day. He knew it.

Zebediah only had one class with Bucky: psychology, which he also shared with Zebina. Zebina and Bucky were all in the smart people classes. Of course, Zeb was doing terrible in that class, never actually paying attention to what was being said. He always tried but he just always got distracted. Today was no different. He set out his notebook and pencil, ready for a full forty minutes of learning. Then Bucky walked in and that idea went out the window. He was so smart, always had the answer. Everything he said was golden.

Zebediah wouldn't say he was obsessed. Zebina would, but Zebediah wouldn't. It's not like he was all he thought about every second of every day. He just couldn't help but think about him when he was in front of him. He just had a demanding presence. He drew eyes to him. He'd answer a question and he'd just speak with such confidence. He'd be able to recite it word for word from the textbook. Bucky always looked so relaxed yet so focused. Zebediah would just glance over for a second and then the bell was ringing.

Lunchtime couldn't come quickly enough. He found Zebina and they hurried to get whatever was being served today and not have to wait in line. That of course, was not the case, and they found themselves at the back of the line. Zebediah was rambling and couldn't help but notice that Zebina was even less engaged than usual. He followed her eye-line to the wolves sitting at a table in the cafeteria.

"So the werewolves huh?"

Zeb asked her as they were being served...food.

"What? No, I just uh..."

Her mouth mimicked a fish as she struggles to come up with an excuse.

"They're really cool. Let's sit by them."

"What? No!"

But Zeb was already walking toward their table, waving.

"Hey. I'm Zebediah. This is my friend Zebina. Can we sit here?"

Zebina was mortified, and completely awestruck at how he could just talk to them and be so normal about it. The wolves were so badass. They looked a little skeptical but eventually nodded. They introduced themselves and the group actually found conversation quickly. They were laughing and enjoying themselves. Zeb hadn't looked at Bucky once and Zebina hadn't taken out a single piece of homework. The bell rang and they were actually disappointed.

The rest of the day went by ridiculously slowly. Zeb was constantly checking the clock. He had to make cheer this year. It was his last chance to actually get close to Bucky. They'd graduate and he would go off to do great things while Zeb was stuck in Zombietown.

Zebediah wasn't exactly shining star material. He didn't have 100s in every class like Zebina. He wasn't a cheer rockstar like Bucky. He wasn't a football star like Zed Necrodopolis, or a computer whiz like Eliza Zambie, or an art prodigy like Bonzo whatever his last name was. He was just average. Nope. He was not going into that. The bell of his last class finally rang and you'd think that Zeb was practicing for track with how quick he raced out of the classroom. He was actually so fast he was the first one in the gym. He was going to get this. He had to get this.

_

Part Two

#if only you knew you'd hate me #chapter one #disney channel original movie #disneys zombies #disney #disney zombies #z o m b i e s #z-o-m-b-i-e-s #bucky buchanan #bucky zombies #tw: swearing #tw: abuse #tw: mention of abortion #tw: biphobia

[yandere-daydreams]

Can u please do somthin for yan momo?? Maybe some more fantasy au...💗

Petition for someone to give Momo a full suit of amour in a fantasy!au. I know it’s out-of-character, but my baby’s cold and needs an iron sweater.

The two of you had met on the front line, unfortunately.

The encounter had been brief, a fleeting moment of tranquility when she couldn’t think about anything besides whatever was right in front of her, down and in need of urgent care. The moment the enemy force surrendered, she’d collapsed, not remember whether she thought she’d die there or simply couldn’t stand to fight any longer. She didn’t notice someone was dragging to her the healer’s tent until she was already on the floor, dizzy and smiling deliriously as you pried a dagger from her side.

It’d been love at first sight... or first hear, rather. She couldn’t see you, eyes unfocused and covered in black spots, but your voice was better than any potion or ale she’d ever had, smoother and so, so beautiful. You distracted her with questions, talking about your family and letting her tell you about her friends, and by the time you were done, she was sure you were her soulmate.

The blood loss probably helped, too, but she liked to think you were just that sweet.

The bleary memories were blood-soaked and rose-tinted, but she could remember how you stitched her up, reassuring her second-in-command their leader would make a full recovery and helping Momo limp to a nearby cot, only laughing and telling her you had others to tend to when she clung to your arm and refused to let you leave. Still, you sat with her, brushing through her hair while she gave into her wounds. 

You were gone, by the time she woke up, nameless, faceless and on your way to another battle, probably. Momo hadn’t let herself linger on it, after that, relishing in the fact she hadn’t died and taking her new role as a castle-guard with as much grace as she could muster. It was a cushy job, the princes and princess in no need of a safeguard, but she was injured. ‘Cushy’ was what she needed, even if that meant hours of standing in front of empty rooms and tolerating the high-class nobles she’d become a soldier to escape.

No, she gritted her teeth and forced herself to bear it. The prince she was assigned to guard was nicer than she expected, the two becoming quick friends, but that didn’t stop her from jumping at the chance to break up a fight between two new recruits, one of which who didn’t hesitate to attack their superior, not if it meant getting to his opponent. The injuries were minor, more bruises and scrapes than anything life-threatening, but she was still sent to the infirmary after the more hostile of the two was restrained. She’d been less than excited… 

At least until she met the doctor.

Momo didn’t recognize you, not until your spoke, but instantly, she was hit with the same feelings she’d had the first time you’d cared for her. The blissful, warm familiarity, the kind that had her falling silent but itching to speak, to tell you that she was general you’d saved, the one who hadn’t wanted to let go to you, the one who’d never bothered thinking about someone else. She hadn’t realized how much you meant to her, not until you were leaning in front of her, your eyes sparkling, watching for reactions while pressing fingertips into her bruises. You were more gentle than she remembered, and so much closer than she thought you could be.

Momo cursed herself for not getting hurt sooner. How long had you been working here? Since the battle? All your life? So much time wasted, so much time she could’ve spent by your side, rather than protecting people who didn’t even need her. Her obsession grew naturally, swiftly, snaking its way into her mind and strangling the thoughts that fought against her temptation to see you again. It didn’t make sense, she knew it didn’t make sense, but that didn’t stop her from waiting outside your post every night, waiting for you to get off-duty and insisting on walking you to your chambers.

Of course, you were nothing but patient with her, smiling every time you saw the girl who went pale whenever she heard your voice and ignoring her more questionable habits whenever you could, making polite excuses when you couldn’t. It was only a matter of time before she requested a change in post, relinquishing her role as Shoto’s body-guard in order to better keep an eye on her lovely, helpless little saint. What if someone attacked you? What if one of your patients, in a fit of fever and craze, decided you were the one causing them pain?

No, she couldn’t have that. You saved her, so she could protect you. It was the least she could do.

Momo spent nine months with this mind-set, her fantasies becoming less innocent and more... mature. She wanted to kiss you, pull you closer and let everyone who dared think they were special know that you already had an owner, to tie you up until you stopped blushing and stuttering whenever she suggested something other than innocent conversations and the occasional friends hug. Even when you wanted your silly, childish ‘space’, her mind would stray to an alternate reality, one where you didn’t think you needed to hide from her, one where you knew you loved her. 

Momo hardly slept, those nights.

 You were her first priority, her only priority, after a while. The more time she spent around you, the more she seemed to hate anyone else who had the nerve to interact with two obvious soulmates. They were vile, disgusting, untrustworthy, treacherous. And you…

You were angelic.

And yet, then they had to go and ruin that, all the castle’s healers and medics soon coordinated to be sent to the site of a disaster, only a handful of knights and the king’s eldest child accompanying them. You were going, as well, because Momo wasn’t allowed to be happy. Not as child, not while fighting, not while the universe itself was determined to keep the two of you apart.

But, Momo was never one to complain, not without thinking of solutions. She couldn’t say she hadn’t been hoping for an excuse, waiting and biding her time until she had a good reason to claim what was rightfully hers. She’d purchased the cottage weeks ago, a cozy, unmemorable house on the edge of the capital, just close enough for her to live in while still serving the royal family. She could simply say the knights’ barracks had grown too crowded, or that she’d fallen ill, the excuse didn’t matter. Shoto was a friend, one who understood what it was like to be hopelessly in love.

And no one would notice the disappearance of one doctor, she was sure, especially one who was foolish enough to wander off while traveling, getting lost and never returning, most likely a victim to some wild animal or a local killer. It was a fate no one would question, much less blame Momo for.

You’d be happy with her, and she would be happy with you. And even if it did take some time for your adjust, she would be able to make sure you were safe. 

In the end, your protection was all she wanted. 

Until she thought you were ready for something more… intimate, anyway.

#yandere #Yandere love #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere prompt #yandere imagines #yandere scenerio #yandere oneshot #yandere drabble #boku no hero academia #yandere boku no hero academia imagines #boku no hero academia imagines #yandere boku no hero academia #bnha imagines #yandere bnha #yandere bnha imagines #momo x reader #yandere momo x reader #yandere momo #yaoyorozu x reader #fantasy au #yandere fantasy #yandere fairy tale #knight!momo #possessive #obsessive #obsesion #jealousy

[raisingsupergirl]

I Didn't Vote

Yep, you heard it right. On 11/3/20, I didn't go anywhere near the polls. I woke up, went to work, went home, and went to bed. Sure, I'd had a long day, but I certainly had a chance to swing by and punch my ticket. I thought about doing it. From the time I woke up I thought about it. But I just couldn't bring myself to do it, and I didn't really know why. Even the next day I couldn't figure it out. And I've been mulling it over since then. I still don't have a satisfying reason, but at least I have a reason. Actually, I have several.

Okay, let's get this out of the way. My first reason for not voting is ignorance. No, not on the part of the political candidates, or social media, or you. I didn't vote because I'm ignorant. I know so little about the two old guys (and there was a woman, too, right? That third-party so-and-so?) fighting to "rule" our country. Here's what I do know… First, Trump: He's filthy rich. He owns some companies (honestly couldn't tell you which ones). He had a TV show (can't remember the name) and a tower. He has been our president for the past four years, and he did some things that veterans and conservatives like (I can't tell you with certainty even one thing that he's responsible for changing). He's a republican, but I think he used to be a democrat. I also think his wife's name is Ivanka, he has a daughter, and his VP is Mike Pence. Lastly, people either love him or hate him, which has only further divided our nation. He comes off at different times as a megalomaniac, a bully, and an idiot (though he may not be any of those things. Who knows?). He has no filter, he has Twitter, and he claims that everyone else is out to lie, steal, and cheat to make him look bad, which is ironic, because his ridiculous hair does that all on its own. And now on to the other guy.

I actually forget Joe Biden's name a lot. I want to call him Pence or Kerry or even McCain. Seriously, though that's not saying much. I'm horrible with names. But I also forget what he looks like. When I think about him, all I see is Jim Carrey. Oh! That must be why I tend to call him Kerry in my head. Silly me. Now… what about him? He's a lifetime politician, he's democrat, and he's really old. I know that much. And his running mate is a woman, I think. Seems like he's probably going to be our next president based on the Electoral College, but I couldn't tell you with confidence what that means. And that's about it. Honestly, I don't know anymore than that.

But why don't I know more? Am I dumb? Well… I don't think so. I received a master's degree over a decade ago (with honors, no less), and I like to think I've only grown smarter and wiser since then. I love learning new things—ideas, talents, how things work. But one of those things just isn't politics. So, the second reason I didn't vote is disinterest (I'm racking up quite a compelling argument, I know). I've written about how I don't have a passion for BLM even though I think it's a worthy cause. And I think the main reason is because it falls under the "politics" umbrella in my mind. Too many people with too many emotions and not enough listening. I just don't have the stomach for it. I would rather spend my one life changing the world one person at a time. I'd rather show love to my neighbor (as a Christian), fix someone's knee pain (as a physical therapist), and help other people get their ideas across clearer (as an editor). And, if I'm being honest, all of the doom saying just doesn't scare me. I'm a country boy at heart, and I have simple needs. My family is small, and I have a cabin in the woods. I was sad when Y2K didn't happen. I love individual people, but I'm not a big fan of society. In large groups, people are mean and naïve. And so, fear just doesn't enter into the equation for me. Life is so much bigger than what the marketing campaigns claim.

If you haven't caught on yet, I'm a bit of a skeptic. I don't know if I was born that way, but I became aware of it in college. I didn't particularly like my research classes, but I loved learning how to read scientific articles. Specifically, I love learning how to recognize BS (Biased Science, that is…). I have a knack for seeing through it in any situation. I can generally tell when people are lying, and even though I don't know everything, I do understand concepts, theories, and ideas better than the average person. And like Aristotle (and Plato), I'm keenly aware of my own ignorance as well as that of others. I see how people embrace sensationalized "fake news" and assume causality just because of correlation. Everyone does it. I do it. But I'm aware of it. I'm aware of social media algorithms, of herd mentality, of confirmation bias. And so, the third reason I didn't vote is because I assume everyone is either lying or buying into lies (lying and bullying are my two biggest pet peeves, by the way). And we've already established that I don't have the time or the energy (or the mental capacity) to learn the truth of every political topic and use those truths to set everyone straight. But hey, at least I'm honest…

Remember when I said earlier that fear didn't factor into the equation for me? Yeah, obviously that’s not true. I mean, sure, I'm not afraid of societal collapse or the end of the world. But I'm obviously afraid of being wrong. We've established that I don't know much about Trump or Kerr—er… Biden. That I'm ignorant about politics, in general. And we know that I'm a skeptic—that I have to come to my own conclusions. And most of the time that looks like stubbornness. I hate being told what to do. I hate being micromanaged. I hate the virus on my computer that sets Bing as my default search engine instead of Google. I hate the alarm on my wife's van that makes me wear my seat belt. And I hate the Facebook banners that keep telling me it's my duty to vote. I'm a grown boy. I can make those decisions all on my own. And I will not blindly trust a random source with dubious intentions to make those decisions for me. And, as much as I love my friends, I don't buy their claims that it's my duty to vote, either. Countless brave men and women did not die for my DUTY to vote. They died for my freedom to do so. Same as my freedom to be a Christian. Which means I'm also free to NOT vote.

But why wouldn't I WANT to vote? Because I'm afraid of whom I would have voted for. I'm aware of where I live and what my local culture thinks. In short, I voted for Trump last time, and I probably would have voted for him this time. And I couldn't stomach that thought (side note: I do have one regret, and that’s not voting local. I do know people personally who were running for office--as well as local bills--but I missed the opportunity to vote on things that I DO know about because of my fear of voting for the “wrong” president). It’s not that I doubted that Trump would do positive things while in office (even though, as I said, I'm not sure what he actually did the past four years…), but I'm just so tired of everybody acting insane. There's a reason I don't have cable. There's a reason I only get on social media to post pictures and check my notifications. And while I don't buy into all the sensationalism claiming the president has ultimate power, I do believe that he has a microphone. And a Twitter account. And even though our government is based on checks and balances, our media definitely isn't. If Biden is, in fact, our president for the next four years, my only hope is that he'll keep his mouth shut.

Okay, everyone's mad at me now. And that's okay. I put myself out there. I was honest about my ignorance, my bias, and my fear, which is more than I can say about most other people (presidents included). And maybe my honesty will compel others (you?) to reevaluate the "truths" they (you?) assume are self-evident. It's taken me four years, but I finally understand what "Make America Great Again" means. What would it take for our country to be great? Accountability. That's it. If every man, woman, and child did everything possible to give back to our country, we WOULD be great. If we worked hard to repair crumbling buildings, if we painted breathtaking murals, if we learned classical philosophy and used it shape our thoughts, if we refused to blame someone else for our unhappiness, if we did everything in our INDIVIDUAL power to contribute to the greater whole, if we truly loved our neighbors and gave them the shirt off of our back regardless of their political leanings… THAT would make us great. Right now, we're all so divided. We're all so afraid and easily manipulated. I've chosen to put my time and energy into things "smaller" than politics, but that doesn't mean I don't care about the future of my country. Quite the opposite, in fact. And hopefully, when I'm dead and gone, my tombstone won't read, "The guy who didn't vote in the 2020 presidential election."

#voting #politics #trump vs biden #biden #trump #go vote #2020 presidential race

[bruciewayne]

unknown hex (love)

stevetony (surprised? lmao), hogwarts au, enemies to lovers, friends/enemies with benefits, fluff, humour, 2.3k

for ‘wizards and witches’ on @iron-man-bingo​

[[Hogwarts is exactly as it is in the UK except this one’s in upstate New York.]]

--

“Tony, you say his name one more time, I will, by no use of magic, make sure you can’t speak for the rest of the year,” Natasha growls out. It’s not that she even hates the guy that Tony’s complaining about, hell, she’s pretty good friends with Steve, but Merlin, both of them need to get their heads out of their asses and put something else in.

Natasha’s this close to taking their wands, shoving both of them into a closet, and only unlocking the door when they can prove that they can be civil for longer than five seconds. The only reason she hasn’t already is that both of them are too good at wandless magic (Tony kept accidentally lighting things on fire in Sixth Year (and ‘accidentally’ lighting Steve on fire)). 

And there’s a general ban on locking people in closets (Steve ‘accidentally’ locked Tony in a closet in Sixth Year in a potions class, so Tony locked him in a different closet and sunk it to the bottom of the lake, so Steve locked him in a closet and kept it levitating above Gryffindor tower until Tony woke up, and then, along with a general ban on locking people in closets, Steve and Tony aren’t allowed to be in any more closets - every single one in the castle and the neighbouring town are hexed to throw them out. Surprisingly, their… arguments have been far less physical after that, now just yelling and snarking at each other in the corridors. Natasha’s not quite sure what to make of that particular development.

Tony glares at her, flopping back on the grass, cushioned by the air with a flick of his hand, so he’s floating a little, “But S-- he’s so goddamn stupid--”

“Then stop talking to him!” Rhodey says, exasperatedly. They’ve been through this too many times to count, ever since the start of First Year, Steve and Tony hated each other and never made up, leading them to now, just over a month before they take their NEWTs and leave, and those two still can’t have a normal conversation.

“No,” Tony says, well used to the exchange, Rhodey will tell him to stop talking to him, and as much as Steve is an arrogant, stubborn, bastard, for some reason, he can’t stop talking to him. During one memorable argument last year that had resulted in the dining hall being blown up (only a little), the headmaster had forced them to go to medical to see if they had any hexes put on them. 

They didn’t. 

“Then don’t complain.”

“No.”

-

“What do you mean ‘no’ he’s the crux of all your problems, stop talking to him, pretend he doesn’t exist,” Sam says to Steve, tired of going through the same conversation and debate and argument again and again.

“Last time I tried that he blew up the hall,” Steve says.

“You also had a hand in blowing up, don’t think I’ve forgotten,” Bucky interrupts. He’s never gonna let Steve live that down, especially because after, they’d been forced to be checked for hexes. Even though the headmaster wasn’t aware of any hexes that could make them do… whatever they do.

“It was mostly him,” Steve insists, it was, he’s the one who started that particular argument.

“One day doesn’t count as ignoring,” Bucky adds. He’s pretty sure that he’s had this conversation in his sleep, the amount of times they’ve been over it.

Before Steve can say anything, Sam interrupts and says, “The longest you’ve gone without talking to him was that week you were in the infirmary, and even then you sent him howlers, and he sent them back!”

“God forbid if both of you end up working for the Magical Congress together,” Bucky mutters. 

He can’t imagine what it would be like for them in the working world, devoid of all the rules here. He fears the day they run MACUSA together. He’s not too sure that moving to different galaxies will stop them from talking to each other. Morons. He’s suggested to Steve to just fuck it out, but he’d just rolled his eyes, ignoring his incredibly helpful advice (it had worked for him and Sam, but they weren’t anywhere near as bad as Steve and Tony).

Going back to his charms homework, Steve replies amicably, “Fuck you.”

-

“Real original Stark,” Steve taunts back, repressing what he’d rather say, the corridor is full of people, everyone watching. Their drama a pretty big source of entertainment, for everyone who isn’t the headmaster and the ghosts he sometimes ropes in to referee them.

“What, you want me to fuck your mother instead?” Tony taunts back, without thinking.

The next thing he knows, he’s standing in his underwear in the middle of the quidditch field. 

In front of First Years.

Great.

When he gets back to Ravenclaw Tower, he finds out that Steve lost the Gryffindors a hundred points, and he, the Ravenclaws.

“He’s the one who used magic on me!” (Steve and Tony have a ban on using magic on each other (Third Year)) Tony complains, even though, admittedly, he went far too far, especially just for passing the hallways.

“Tony,” Bruce says.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

“Just st--”

“If you say stop talking to him--”

//

“Steve, that’s, barring actual death, and even then I’m not sure, is the only way to stop this, it was getting stupid five years ago,” Bucky interrupts. The worst thing is that he’s not even exaggerating. Those two have lost their respective houses so many points over the years that whenever points get deducted now because of them, they get put into different section (Idiotic Losses) and whichever Prefect wins the chess tournament at the end of the year between them, wins the points for their houses (Fourth Year).

“I can’t, Buck, if I do, then--”

“He wins, I know, I know,” Bucky sighs, “you okay?”

“Yeah, it was probably just a slip of the tongue or something,” Steve says, it’s common with them. More than it should be, really. He’s said his fair share of things that classify as ‘too far’, and got his due hexes from Rhodey - both Rhodey and Bucky stopped revenge-hexing about halfway into Third Year, claiming it lost them too many points too often. The headmaster also put a ban on revenge-hexing that had anything to do with Steven Grant Rogers and Anthony Edward Stark.

“Doesn’t make it acceptable.”

“I know, I know--”

-

“-- he’s a dick, stop talking to him, blah blah blah--”

“Have you maybe considered being nice to him?” Rhodey asks, pushing a pawn across the board. He’s trying to better his chess skills so maybe he’ll have a chance in the tournament at the end of the year - Hufflepuff have won every single time, and he’s determined not to let them in his last year.

Tony looks at him like he’s gone crazy, “Honeybear, have you already forgotten what he did--”

“Because of what you said!”

Tony concedes that, they took familial insults off the table halfway through First Year when Steve made a crack at his father and Tony, his. But he’s not going to be nice to him, he doesn’t deserve it. 

Maybe if he repeats it enough times he’ll believe it.

Rhodey sighs, so done, he’s practically burnt, “Do you know why little boys pull little girls’ pigtails?”

-

“Because boys are praised and rewarded for showing violence in place of affection?” Steve says, in place of admitting that Bucky might be right.

“Smartass,” Bucky grumbles, flicking ink at him.

“I don’t like him, he doesn’t like me, never will, never has.” 

-

“You physically can’t stop talking to him, what does that say about you?”

“Unknown hex,” Tony insists stubbornly. 

“Well what does that say about him?”

“It makes him a moron!”

-

“How am I the moron?”

“You’re clearly making them suspicious,” Tony says, glaring at Steve.

“Right, because this is so shameful?” Steve says, sarcastically, but there’s still hurt laced in the anger.

“Secret fucks? That’s pretty damn shameful,” Tony spits back. They’re at the top of Ravenclaw tower, alone, in the dark, save for the crescent moon and the stars. For better or for worse, they’re not yet banned from being in the same vicinity at the same time alone.

“Are you cheating on someone?” Tony wouldn’t, Steve knows that Tony wouldn’t and he isn’t.

“You know me better than that,” Tony scowls, indignant.

“Then why is it so shameful?”

“Because-- because neither of us can stand each other and that’s how it’s been for the past seven years and it’s staying that way!” Tony says, voice getting louder and louder. He doesn’t know who he’s trying to convince anymore.

“Why do you hate me?” Steve provokes. He’s tired of all of this, he’s tired of the constant fighting that, ultimately, doesn’t mean anything at all, he’s tired of keeping secrets from his friends and he’s tired of pretending to hate Tony. In all honesty, he hasn’t hated him for a while now.

“Because,” Tony says, stubbornly, “it’s how it’s been for the past forever.” Maybe if Tony tells himself that he despises every cell in his body, he’ll believe it one day. He doesn’t want to hate him, but he doesn’t want to love him. He doesn’t. He doesn’t love the way he laughs, he doesn’t love his hair, or his eyes, or his body, or the way he thinks or his determination, or his pigheadedness, or the way he knows Tony inside out, or the way he’ll go out of his way to help someone, or his stupid smile and the way it brightens up his face. He doesn’t love him.

Steve gives him a disbelieving look, all the anger and hurt dissipating, “We’re not eleven anymore.”

“Yeah, we’re not,” Tony agrees, instead of saying the insult on the tip of his tongue, Tony doesn’t have it in him to force it out, no-ones watching anyway. 

“I don’t hate you, you know,” Steve says, quietly. He might even like him. Love him. His eleven-year-old self would Wingardium Leviosa his ass out the stratosphere.

Tony does know. Steve told him, last year, after the closet debacle. Tony called him a liar, Steve ignored him, they broke the dining hall a little in trying to convince each other. (The hall was empty, it had been just gone 3 in the morning.) And he doesn’t think that he hates him, not anymore.

“I know.”

Steve sighs and looks up at the stars, eyes tracking over constellations. Tony gets an irrational urge to take him to Australia to show him even more stars.

“Tell me you hate me,” Steve challenges, after a beat of silence, turning to him, fire in his eyes.

“What?”

Steve comes closer, close enough that Tony could count his eyelashes (give or take 550 - he counted, one night, after Steve had fallen asleep) if it weren’t so dark, he’s close enough that he can smell him. He resists the urge to hug him, to bury himself in his arms, to apologise, to spill all his secrets.

“Tell me you hate me.”

It’s not even on the tip of his tongue. Tony’s reasonably sure that all the willpower he currently possesses couldn’t make him say ‘I hate you’ to Steve. It used to be so damn easy, scathing and venomous, and then he started sleeping with him, they lost their virginity to each other, rash, stupid and full of hate, and then they said it simply in passing, more lighthearted, and they meant it, every time. But now, he can’t. Even an Imperio Curse couldn’t make him say it.

Steve takes his non-answer as an answer and smiles, like Tony finally, finally got something. He really is beautiful when he smiles. Tony can’t be bothered to keep back those thoughts anymore. Steve is beautiful, gorgeous, even when he’s angry he’s ridiculously hot - which is how the hate (well, not anymore) fucking started in the first place.

“I love you,” Steve can’t stop himself from saying it, but that just makes it ore true. And maybe it’ll turn out to be a mistake, and he’ll lose one of the best people he knows, but Gryffindors are meant to be impulsive, right?

Tony looks, surprised, mostly, but also relieved. Not a mistake. So very much not a mistake, especially when Tony closes the gap between them and kisses him as he holds him tight.

“I love you too,” Tony whispers, breath ghosting over his lips.

“You do?” Steve teases, and just like that, the air is cleared, so much goes unsaid, but Tony has to confirm, stupidly soft.

“I do.”

-

“And do you, Steven Grant Rogers, take Anthony Edward Stark to be your husband?”

“I do,” Steve says, grinning brightly. Nowadays, Tony has absolutely no qualms calling him gorgeous, or beautiful, or handsome (or a dickhead, but they’ve found better ways to resolves their conflicts). He’d say that they’re maturing in their old age (they’ve just left university), but he’s planning to shove cake in Steve’s face, and he’s willing to be that Steve is thinking the same exact thing.

“You may kiss the groom.”

They kiss, soft and chaste, through their smiles.

-

“I can’t believe our courting was pranks,” Tony says, as they pull away. He’s feeling nostalgic tonight, but he’s allowed, it’s his wedding night.

“I can’t believe we didn’t get expelled,” Steve says, littering kisses down his neck.

Tony hums and guides Steve’s face so he can kiss him on the lips, slow and unhurriedly, “Wouldn’t regret it.”

Steve grins. “Neither would I.”

--

iron man bingo masterpost

tell me what you thought?

#steve rogers x tony stark #steve x tony #stevetony fic #stevetony #stony fic #stony #hogwarts au #ironmanbingo3000 #iron man bingo 2019 #imb

[purplesurveys]

740

‘Does your best friend bother you more than anyone else? This is so weird. Someone wouldn’t be my best friend if all they did was annoy me. If one of my best friends did start to bother me with anything they’re doing, we’re close enough for me to comfortably call them out on it. Who is your best friend? Angela and Gab. Do you like someone right now? A lot more than that at this point. Do you even think you stand a chance with this person? I’ve been with them a handful of years now, so yes. Do you consider yourself truly happy? Not truly. I can generally keep myself happy but I’ll sometimes have days where I’m anxious, angry, hurt, confused, lost, or all of the above. It’s a work in progress.

How often do you cry? I want to say at least once a week; that's pretty accurate. Are you emotional? Yes. What is the worst thing you would do for 10 million dollars? I find these questions so stressful to think about lol. Just give me scenarios to do for $10 million and I’ll tell you if I’m willing to do it. Have you ever had/do you have an eating disorder? [trigger warning] No. But when my depression was at its roughest a part of me wanted to try adding self-starvation to the other methods I was already using to harm myself at the time. Didn’t really work out. Have you ever cut/burned yourself intentionally? Cut, yes. Burned, technically yes, but I didn’t know it would hurt me. When I was 7 I thought I had some sort of invincibility so I placed a finger on a clothes iron that was plugged in at the time. So I kinda did it on purpose, but not because I wanted to burn myself lol? If that makes sense? What do you think of people that do? Hope that they have people around them who care for them and can help them pull themselves out of that hole. What's your opinion on drugs? Have you ever done any? Scary, especially the hard drugs. I’ve seen Breaking Bad, Trainspotting, and Requiem for a Dream to know not to try them lol. I’ve only had milder ones like caffeine, nicotine, and painkillers. Have you ever noticed the hidden adut jokes inside of kid shows/movies? When I encounter the episodes these days, yeah I would notice them. When I was a kid they used to be just sentences that didn’t make sense to me. Do you want to be famous? Why? I’m not opposed to it. I wanna be able to travel places, get freebies, and afford a lot of nice clothes, but I’m also not willing to do absolutely anything or lose who I am just to get famous.

Do you sin often? I don’t really think of that anymore. What are your views on God? Nope. What do you think happens after you die? I go to sleep permanently, which for me is the most peaceful way to think of death. Sometimes if I’m feeling a little alone or helpless, it’s just as comforting to also think of the possibility of reuniting with my lost loved ones when I die, like my lolo or the great-grandparents I never met. Are you afraid to die? I’m afraid of dying painfully, if anything. Like I don’t want to be stuck in a burning room or have a ceiling collapse on me, you know? If you had the chance, would you want to know the date of your death? Yes. Have you ever felt that you weren't good enough? Of course. Do you have any siblings? If so, are you jealous of them? Yes. I’m not jealous/envious of Nina, but I do sometimes wish I had a talent that was as tangible and recognizable as hers – she’s an artist and an editor, and very good ones. Do you have a good relationship with your parents? Why or why not? I mean we don’t hate each other, but I wouldn’t go running to their arms if I had a problem. We have a more buddy-type relationship.

Are you always wanting more? Yep, I’m quite materialistic. Do you make good first impressions? You’d have to ask the people I’ve ever met. I hope I do, though. Do you feel bad for obese people, or do you just laugh? I am so unimpressed with this question.  What would you do if you were obese? Idk, it would depend on the mindset I have once I’m at that point. Are you ashamed of your past? Not ashamed. I just wish it had a lot more happier days. Do you miss your past? No. Do you have a song lyric that describes where you are in life right now? Ain’t it fuuuuun living in the real wooooorld ain’t it goooood being all alooooone Who are you closest to in your family? In my immediate family, it’s probably my sister. But generally speaking, it’s my eldest first cousin on my mom’s side. Do you ever open up to people? Yes, but I’m also private. Like I wouldn’t just share my life story with anyone - you have to ask about it and know which questions to ask. Do you consider yourself guarded? Why or why not? Sure. I’ve had shitty people come in and go out of my life throughout the years. Are you an honest person? I guess. Do you like animals? Love them, except cockroaches and flying cockroaches.

Do you think doctors prescribe medicine too often? I...don’t really have an opinion lol and I don’t know if I should. I don’t know the first thing about medical ethics. Are you a control freak? In a group setting, mostly yep. Do you enjoy getting drunk, or do you feel like you're losing all control? I like getting drunk but only until a certain point, i.e. when I feel giddy enough to socialize with strangers or start dancing. I’ve had a couple of bad experiences from drinking too much and it’s always so embarrassing the day after. What do you think happens when you go into a coma? I’ve read accounts on Reddit from people who used to be in one and the stories vary. Some stayed passed out through the whole thing, others dreamt in a lot of vibrant colors, others had dreams that they considered metaphors for dying, others were a little aware of what was happening or being said around them. Do you think the internet is dangerous? I know it is, lmao.

Name all the social networking sites you use: Twitter, Tumblr, Facebook, YouTube, Linkedin. I re-installed Snapchat recently but I don’t use it for social media. Do you think anyone truly knows who you really are? My best friends do, in different ways. Have you ever given anyone the chance to really get to know you? Yes. Do you block people out of your life when they start to get too close? No. It’s very rare that that gets to happen so when it does, I keep them around. Who do you think has the most pressure to be good-looking; guys or girls? I think both experience a lot of pressure in very different ways. It’s not a contest. Do you care what impression you make on people? Kinda, especially if they make the wrong one lmao. Do you think TV is too much of an influence on today’s youth? If anything today’s TV has a lot of responsible representation from sexual consent and coming out and mental health to POCs, which gives off a suuuuper positive influence to kids and young teens these days who now feel like they can see themselves in the characters they meet and scenarios they see. Racism, sexism, homophobia, and all the other -isms and -phobias never get to fly by in this age anymore and that’s a great thing too. Just look at Brooklyn Nine-Nine, Sex Education, Itaewon Class, and I wanna say The Good Place? but I’ve never seen it. What do you think people would do if all the computers crashed? I honestly think that would be the last straw that would break the camel’s back for people to start chaotically freaking out lol. There’s too much happening as it is. Honestly, do you say racist things? Filipinos in general are resentful towards mainland Chinese but that’s because they have bullied us for so long, they’ve literally shit on our historical parks, they keep buying our lands, they claim our seas, and they belittle and mistreat Filipinos, especially the ones who work as OFWs in China. We wouldn’t be as racist if most of them didn’t act like such assholes to begin with. Personally, I don’t verbally say racist stuff but I will judge mainland Chinese in my head if I come across them or hear another incident of them misbehaving. Do your parents put way too much pressure on you? No, which I’m quite grateful for. They just let me do my thing, they ask me what jobs I want without hinting what they want for me, they let me fantasize about my dream purchases once I have a salary without guilt-tripping me over letting them have a share of my money, that kind of stuff. Has anyone you loved ever died? Two big people in my life. Do you think people overreact when their pets die? Not at all. Pets are family, and everyone’s reactions are valid. I remember when Lorde’s dog died and people were either 1) making fun of her and called her overreacting when she said she was gonna be unable to release new music for the meantime, or 2) stoked that her new music is probably gonna be sad and emotional because of her dog’s death, and I thought both were terrible. Do you know who you are, or what you want to become? I’m getting there, don’t pressure me lmfao. Do you have your future mapped out? Or are you just taking it day by day? Day by day. I have a good big picture planned out, but I also like living in the now. What are you going to do now? I dunno if I want to take another survey or watch YouTube videos now. But directly after hitting post on this I’ll definitely take another sip of my coffee and give my dog cuddles for a few minutes since he just woke up from his nap.

#survey #surveys

[alindakb]

Dear Harry / Forever yours, Draco - 18 November 1992 - by Alinda

18 November 1992

Dear Harry,

You scare me with this Chamber of Secrets business. It’s really freaking me out. Please tell me you have nothing to do with it. Tell me everyone is wrong. And please tell me I also have nothing to do with it. Because I can’t remember what I did on the night of Halloween. Or when the last attack took place. I have no memory of what I did before the Quidditch match. Madam Pomfrey says it’s because of the hit to the head I received during the match, only I’m not sure if that is it.

I’m sure you were at the Quidditch match to witness the fiasco that took place there. I’m glad we did win in the end. It all started out so great. Did you see how easy it was for me to score and put Slytherin in the lead? It felt amazing. Until the Bludger happened. It just kept coming for me. You will never believe who did that. It’s that silly house elf I’ve told you about before. Do you remember? His name is Dobby. He thinks that we are both in danger. He showed up in the hospital wing when I was there overnight to regrow my bones. Yes, I had to regrow my bones. My arm was broken and then Professor Lockhart tried to mend them with a spell. However, he fucked it up. Like he fucks up everything. He’s so incompetent that I’m even using swear words now. I can’t help it, he’s a lousy teacher and I don’t understand why Dumbledore hired him.

However, that spell he tried on me was awful. It started as a strange and unpleasant sensation in my shoulder that spread all the way down to my fingertips. After that, it felt like my arm was being deflated. I was scared to look at it, especially when Pansy started screaming at Professor Lockhart. She was so angry and scary. Please remind me to never piss her off, she’s really freighting when she’s like that. I don’t know if you know what happened, so I’ll tell you. Professor Lockhart had not mended my bones; he had made them disappear completely.

Madam Pomfrey wasn’t happy about it. She raged that I should have come straight to her. She can mend bones in seconds, but growing them back. Well, it took all night. I had to take Skele-Gro. That stuff is disgusting. I’m sure that even you wouldn’t like it. It burns in your mouth and throat and when the bones grow back it hurts.

The afternoon in the hospital wing wasn’t pleasant. Pansy, Gregory, Theo, Daphne and Vincent all wouldn’t leave. Maybe they were afraid you would stop by? I hoped you would, I miss you. I talked a little with Gregory, he was the only one that was interested in my injury and wished me well. Before he had to go he whispered in my ear that he would try to let you know that I was okay. The others just talked among themselves, about how great a game it had been and how funny it was that you, Harry, had been sitting alone in the stands. That even Hermione has left you alone. I wanted to make them stop. It is not funny that you are all alone most of the time. I’m sorry, I feel like it is my fault somehow. I wish I could be there for you, only I can’t, not with Theo and Pansy keeping an eye on me all the time.

I must say I was relieved when Hermione did sit down next to you in class on Monday. For a short while, I was afraid my so-called friends were right and that she had also stopped being your friend. I hate how everyone is ignoring you, or treating you like you are a dangerous animal that needs to be kept at a distance. I know you are not. You are the kindest person I know and you would never be able to hurt people like this, right? Please tell me I’m right in my view of you, that you are still the kind soul you have always been.

That afternoon in the hospital wing, they stayed for a long time before Madam Pomfrey made them leave. I was happy she did. After that, I tried to sleep, without much success. Growing bones is painful and my mind kept wondering towards you. I wondered how lonely you must be now. And I feel like it’s my entire fault. Did I do this to you, Harry? I’m crying now, I don’t know how to do this. I’m scared you will never be able to forgive me for this year. Will you be able to? Please tell me that everything is going to work out for us.

I did fall asleep sometime that night. And when I woke up again it was the middle of the night. At that moment my arm felt like it was full of large splinters, and for a second I thought that had been what had woken me up. Only I was wrong. Dobby was sponging my forehead in the dark. He said that you had come back to school even against all his warnings. He asked me why you hadn’t heeded his warnings. I tried to make him tell me what kind of warning he had given you, only Dobby wouldn’t tell me. I hope he didn’t cause you too many problems. Dobby again asked me why you hadn’t listened to him and I told him that I didn’t know. I explained to him that I wasn’t allowed to talk to you, so there would be no way for me to know.

After some more back and forth, Dobby confessed that he had made you miss the train to Hogwarts. That he had been sure you would have gone home after that, that you were safe. He had blocked the barrier for you; he ironed his hands to punish himself after the fact. The stupid elf. He made me extremely angry at that moment. Didn’t he know how scared I had been when you weren’t on the train? That I had been afraid you wouldn’t be at school this year? That on that day on the train my mind was racing through all the horrible things that could have happened to you, all the unthinkable reasons you won’t be able to come back. I had been extremely happy when I saw you asleep in your bed the next morning, safe and sound and just out of reach.

I threatened to strangle Dobby, however, that didn’t really frighten him. He’s too used to getting death threats from my father. I think Dobby gets them like five times a day.

Dobby believes I should go home since you won’t go. Dobby had thought that his Bludger would be enough to make me go home. He made the thing attack me during the game. I asked Dobby if he was trying to kill me. However, he responded that he would never kill me, not young master Malfoy. No, he just wants to save our lives, yours and mine. According to him, it would be better if I would be sent home, grievously injured, than remain here at Hogwarts. It frustrates me that he will not tell me why. He just said, if I only knew, when I asked him about it.

When Dobby realized that I also wouldn’t go home he told me that I then at least should stop writing in this diary. He claims it’s dangerous and that I’m endangering you by doing so. Like always, Dobby has no idea what he’s talking about, he doesn’t know how much Tom helps me to stay strong, to hang in there until I can clear up this mess and tell you what has been going on. Until I can tell you how much I love you. I’m sure that Theo and Pansy will get sick of watching me all the time at some point this year. When they do, you are the first person I’ll find to explain everything.

I can’t remember if I told you about Tom before. He is a memory stuck in this diary. He has been comforting me and giving me advice when I feel down and scared. I don’t think I can do this without his help. And I’m sure you would like him.

That doesn’t mean I’m not a bit worried now. The last thing Dobby told me before he disapparated keeps running circles in my mind. ‘Doesn’t young master Malfoy not care about Harry Potter’s welfare?’ His big green eyes looked so worried. I’ve never seen them that worried before. I think he really thinks we are in danger. And what if he’s right? What if I’m responsible for the attacks? As I said, I have gaps in my memory. I can’t remember what I did around the times the attacks took place. At first, it was just that stupid cat, only now a young boy lays in the hospital wing, petrified. He looked so horrible, Harry. It was like he had become a statue. What if I have something to do with it? I wish I could talk to you, or even Hermione, one of you would be able to help me remember what I did. I’m sure the two of you would help me, make sure that this is not my fault. Please don’t let this all be my fault.

And where were you when the attack happened? I’ve never seen Vincent so scared of anyone as he is of you right now. They say you were missing from the dormitory that night. I’m worried about you, you disappear for hours some days after class, only to shop up just before curfew to go to bed. I know you are not in the great hall or the library. I’ve looked for you. So, where do you go? What do you do? I don’t think it’s what Vincent thinks you’re doing, plotting your revenge on them. You are too kind for revenge. Please be safe and try to stay out of all this crazy business with the Chamber of Secrets.

I love you,

Forever yours,

Draco Malfoy

#letters to my parents #Draco Malfoy #Harry Potter #drarry #letters #chamber of secrets #dobby #confused draco #AlindasStories

[neverwatchedonepiece]

526-528: "Undersea Volcanic Eruption! Drifting to the Fish-Man Island!", "Landing at the Fish-Man Island! Beautiful Mermaids!" and "Excitement Blow-out! Sanji's Life Under Threat!"

HOORAY! :D:D:D

Will this be one of those arcs that’s filled with sympathetic villains? The kind of characters who... well, you get where they’re coming from because they have a cast-iron reason for their villainy and you feel conflicted about cheering for the heroes? Or will it be more complicated than that? 

I hope I like this arc. Ever since Arlong Park, since I learned about the Sun Pirates from Hachi and the racism Fishmen experience I’ve been hoping Oda might dig deeper into the theme. It’s early days yet, but from what I’ve seen in this episode, I’m quietly confident he’ll deliver.

Cthulhu Is... Friendly?

Must admit the Flying Dutchman action was a bit of a let-down. I thought Captain Vander Decken would be the next villain (or at least the henchman of the next villain). It was built up so well. The creepy “Dead men tell no tales” speech, Brook confirming he was the Real Deal, that the legend told of how the captain lost his mind, killed his crew and cursed the gods (who got their revenge by cursing him to drift forever).

I thought that might make a good plot line (that was before Hammond appeared and the Real Plot kicked in).

The Kraken coming back and sucker punching the Sea Bonze was so worth it. I laughed like a drain and could not believe I was cheering a Kraken like it was Hell in a Cell. Top it all off, Luffy, Zoro and Sanji came paddling back in a single bubble. And Luffy had made the Kraken his pet and named it Surume! Only Luffy can get separated from his crew and return with a pet Kraken. And laugh about the fact that he almost died.

The volcanic eruption action scene was fun. The Flying Dutchman crew and the Kraken would not mess with nature. The water glowed an ominous red and before Luffy gave any orders, Surume the Kraken was already checking out. Nami made the call for them to leap into the deep trench ahead to avoid the pyroclastic flow (is that even possible underwater? I have no idea.)

Usopp got to show off some of his skills by shooting a net-like plant weapon that stopped the debris from the eruption from smashing Sunny to pieces. (Could be good in combat for subduing bad guys.) I liked how Luffy was a good captain and praised Usopp and his cute Kraken pet for doing a good job. There’s that leadership shining through.

This was just before a stray rock bonked Surume on the head and the Strawhats woke up... ten thousand meters under the sea?

But... how? I thought. 

It was bright. There was natural light and vivid colours. How? 

Because it was Fishman Island! :D

Cannot lie. I was excited to finally see it. I wonder how it was for manga readers then to see that place brought to life after so long. I mean, how many chapters was it since it was first mentioned in Arlong Park until now when it was animated. I mean, it was huge! And there were entire massive trees inside the bubble. I still have no idea where the natural light was coming from, but pffft, did I care? It was FISHMAN ISLAND! :D

Then the Border Patrol Arrived?

At least, that’s who I thought they were at first.

And they brought Plot, which, let’s face it, is always good.

Three shady-looking Fishmen rode up on massive Sea Kings. They were so tough, they spoke to Surume the Kraken like it was a disobedient pet. Or... more accurately, as if it was a race traitor. “Why are you obeying such fools as humans, Kraken?” Surume fled the scene (obviously scared of these guys).

They recognised the Straw Hats too. I love how Luffy said, “Who are you? How do you know about us?” Um, Luffy... everyone knows about you now. xD

But these guys went way back. Much further than Alabasta, Enies Lobby, Impel Down or Marineford.

“You are the ones who foiled the Arlong Pirates’ plan. You stood up for Hachi and knocked out a hateful Celestial Dragon, just like Fisher Tiger, the hero of Fishman Island.”

They claimed they were the New Fishman Pirates and demanded the Strawhats enlist under their banner or be sunk.

Hammod did most of the talking but two others tagged along (Hyouzo and Kasagon). 

Nami and Franky knew Luffy would say no (and possibly put them in danger because they couldn’t fight back). They took a huge gamble and spent the last of Sunny’s air crashing through Fishman Island’s protective bubbles.

The dramatic tension when the coating shrank, pinning all the Strawhats to the deck was great. But it really ramped up when the first bubble ripped off the coating and the second one turned out to be full of water. I didn’t expect that twist.

Was that the closest the Strawhats have been yet to almost dying? 

Camie to the Rescue!

Luckily, they have a friend who was sort of expecting them. Luffy, Usopp, Chopper and Sanji woke up at none other than Camie’s place! (The others were separated. Franky, Nami and Robin are together. I have no idea where Brook is and Zoro is on his own.)

Turns out she works at a Mermaid Cafe on the sea floor of Mermaid Cove. The dorms are more affordable on the sea floor, as opposed to the ones higher up with more natural light. I liked that Oda has imagined an entire class system here. Mermaid Cove seems an okay place. Pappagu the starfish is in the fanciest district: Fishverly Hills (lol!) and is a famous designer. Hachi lives in Fishman District, which Camie said was a ‘rough place’. Luffy still thinks Pappagu is Camie’s pet. I don’t think Luffy completely gets how Fishman Island works yet, but Camie was nice and didn’t say anything. Hammond also hinted at another Fishman Island faction: Neptune’s Army, who were introduced later but I don’t know which side they’re on yet, so they seem like a neutral third party so far. 10/10 world building from Oda there.

Camie showed them around. They took a cute turtle elevator up to the “surface”, where there were clouds, blue sky, trees and rainbows. Luffy mentioned reuniting with Jimbei because “when Ace died two years ago, I didn’t lose heart thanks to him” (yes, Luffy. I’m glad you realise just how much Jimbei did for you!)

But Jimbei was not on the island. Camie seemed to hint the War in Marineford caused a bit of trouble in Fishman Island. She didn’t go into it, damn it.

Then, the royal family’s Fish Boat swam into view, heading straight for them, carrying the Neptune Princes (Fukaboshi, Ryuboshi and Sanboshi). The mermaids hid the Straw Hats, in case they were arrested for illegally entering Fishman Island. One mermaid made the mistake of holding Sanji... let’s just say a little close to her chest.

And Lots of Beautiful Mermaids

You know what, I didn’t want to say but over the past couple of episodes, Sanji’s weakness had been annoying me. Not really badly. Just that the joke was getting a bit thin because it’d been played so many times for laughs.

Now I know why.

Does Oda do nothing without a purpose?

He had to set up all the blood loss stuff because blood transfusions are a central tenet in the hatred a lot of Fishmen have over humans.

When Sanji had his Vesuvius Moment, Dr Chopper bravely came to the rescue. Just as the Princes seemed about to take the Strawhats (though they didn’t want to arrest them. Still not sure what their deal is), Chopper placed himself in harm’s way and shouted, “Stop! I’m a Doctor! Can anyone donate S RH negative blood? If Fishman blood is the same, would anyone be willing to donate?”

Chopper unwittingly referenced an Old, Highly Politicised Grudge.

Fisher Tiger: The Hero of Fishman Island

Hammond, who had been lurking, waiting for an opportune moment to catch the Strawhats, couldn’t stay quiet at that point.

“No one on this island would give blood to lowly humans,” he scoffed. “If anyone did, they’d risk punishment from the Dark Night, from human haters. The Old Law in the kingdom states that donating blood to humans is prohibited.”

When the Strawhats protested, Hammond fired back with some Context.

“You humans set that rule first! You people have a long history of fearing us. Didn’t want your blood mixed up with ours. That’s how the hero, Fisher Tiger, died. He risked his own life to free slaves of all races. But after a bloody war, he died. He could have lived if he had a transfusion. The heartless humans refused to give their blood to him.”

I was gobsmacked by that. Honestly. What a great twist, in terms of both plot and morality! How are the Strawhats going to fight against years of racism, abuse, toxic politics and the veneration of a martyr-like figure who means so much to the people of Fishman Island? 

This is going to be a wild ride.

Usopp dismissed the old law. He begged someone, anyone, to help Sanji. Hammod tried to take Luffy by force but severely underestimated how much stronger he’d become (that Haki, honestly... it is so badass).

Camie hijacked the Royal Fish Boat (the royals here seem pretty laid back because if that was real life, you’d be in your local Impel Down faster than you can say, “But I need a blood transfusion!”)

And it seems something is rotten in the state of Fishman Island. Not only are the Strawhats the first human visitors in a while, the Princes were unable to deliver a message to Jimbei.

I wonder if it’s anything to do with this shady character?

This is the guy who wants to see Luffy. The one Hammond calls “Boss.” Hordy Jones, I think his name was? And here we have a shady face, not entirely revealed, sharp teeth and a good voice actor? This has happened before with Moria and Crocodile. Could this be the villain? Is this Hordy Jones, or is he higher up the chain?

I hope so. Was blue-balled with the Flying Dutchman stuff. Don’t want it happening again, haha.

Also, who or what is Noah? Was confused as to whether it was a location or a person.

*insert Rocky Theme tune*

#one piece #neverwatchedonepiece #nwop #never watched one piece #monkey d. luffy #roronoa zoro #sanji #usopp #nami #tony tony chopper #nico robin #franky #brook #fishman island #camie #jimbei #hordy jones #hammond #hachi #fisher tiger #hyouzou #kasagon #surume #fukaboshi #ryuboshi #senboshi #pappagu #Pappug

[maiden-of-wolves]

OC’s as Inquisition Companions

Name: Ariel Grace

Race / Class / Specialization: Human / Archer, then must switch to daggers or sword/shield when her glasses break/are broken / Tempest (or Ranger, if we’re allowed to use other game’s specializations…)

Gender Identity: Female; she/her

Varric’s Nickname for them: Pixie

Short Bio: Having grown up with fantasy stories and playing games to escape her ever-mediocre life back home, she was very familiar with Dragon Age. Impressively so, by some people’s measure. Now, she’s here and she has no idea what to do about it. She finds that she has to relearn how to read and becomes ill often because she has not encountered the diseases of Thedas. Another curiosity is that she appears to either reflect or absorb magic, essentially making her immune to both offensive and defensive/restorative magic. She is able to expel it as well, but it often comes out as a different element than was used on her and is hard for her to control in the beginning.

What would their companion card look like?

<<Death Tarot>>

Recruitment Mission: It is an optional war table mission. It’s next to Haven on the map and is simply a notification from Solas about having gotten notice from scouts of an unusual rift. And that he needs to see them as soon as possible. If you choose to “Go to” you will go outside and towards the dungeons and Solas will come up dragging a bound Ariel with him.

Basically, she appears near Haven and is found by a scouting party before you decide to look for help from either the Mages or Templars. She’s taken to Haven’s dungeons and interrogated by Cassandra and Solas. Mostly Solas. He brings her to the Inquisitor to have them decide what to do with her, citing that she seems to have foreknowledge of the world, but he cannot place how she came there or even what she is. You will have the option to allow her to join the Inquisition or to kill her. If you don’t choose the mission, she will simply starve/freeze in the Haven dungeons.

Where would they be in Skyhold / Haven?

In Haven, she would be near the mines area you fall in while escaping or in the clinic, being treated.

In Skyhold she’d be in the library, with Varric in the hall, by the stables talking with the horses or with Dagna (if you recruit her) in the Underforge.

Quest 1: <<TBD>>

Quest 2: <<TBD>>

Quest 3: <<TBD>>

How to get their approval:

Help “the little guy” (aka people that are down on their luck and need help, beggars, slaves seeking freedom, etc.); Be curious, since she very much wants to know everything she can (if she doesn’t already know about it from the codex entries); Be snarky to nobles or those that are snarky with you; help/be nice to your fellow companions.

How to get their disapproval:

Protect nobility at the expense of those beneath them; turning a blind eye in exchange for gold; flirting with others if you are in a relationship (with her or anyone else); being abrasive when you could have saved people by being diplomatic/clever.

Are they romanceable?

Yes! By men and women, (race gated against dwarves and qunari - Sorry! T_T) but you will need to go VERY easy on the flirting for a while if you’re a lady. She’s not had a physical relationship with a woman before, but is open to the idea.

Can you have sex with them?

Only if you’re on friendly terms; none of this ‘rivalmance’ nonsense. If you’re on her blacklist, she’d rather stick some acid on your lips than kiss them.

Are they open to polyamoury?

Only if it’s talked through and everything is out in the open. She will be very upset for quite a while if you just randomly decide to add another person. And she will be VERY hesitant to join an already established relationship because she needs reassurance that she’s worthwhile.

If they can be romanced and are not will they begin a relationship / relationships with other characters? If so, who?

If Cullen isn’t being romanced, she’d probably start one with him. She’d be there for him during his lyrium withdrawal episodes and sing him back to sleep when he woke.

If Zevran was there and not romanced with the Warden, she’d go for him; same with Fenris not romanced by Hawke.

Who are they friendly with?

Varric is her best friend (except the Inquisitor, if they’re good to her).

The Iron Bull and she get along well; he’s curious about her and likes teasing her.

She likes reading those smutty novels with Cassandra and encourages her so she can “practice reading” ;P.

She and Cullen will be all but kindred spirits in temperament and will get along well; she invents a potion that tastes like lyrium to help his withdrawal (like a kind of placebo). She will also question him about his views on mages and remind him of how he used to talk about them. She wants him to really grow as a person, not just be forgiven for who is was and no follow-up made.

Dorian and Ariel have a kind of love-hate relationship, since he loves to tease her/play flirt and enjoys her easy-to-blush nature far too much. Still, she respects him for trying to change Tevinter and since she spends a lot of time in the library they’re near each other a lot. They often have discussions he has a hard time stomaching about his homeland (usually regarding slavery).

She respects Josephine but the Antivan is very confused by Ariel’s venomous reaction to nobility considering her background.

She also respects Leliana’s abilities but they argue over the Chantry and faith when either topic comes up.

She both likes and hates Cole. She appreciates that he helps people and often asks him to help her help people, but she hates when he reads her.

She likes Blackwall and they often discuss his past (after she reveals she knows) and she encourages him to just atone as Blackwall. She affectionately calls him “Dad” because he reminds her of her father and often gives her fatherly advice, especially about combat.

Who do they dislike?

She knows what Solas wants to do and she hates him for it. They often argue about it, as she’s trying desperately to change his mind. Still, he helps her manage her odd abilities and helps her deal with her odd relationship to the Fade.

Though in goal/opinion they are very similar, she dislikes Sera. She sees her as little more than a snotty brat with a vicious temper and a deplorable liking for “pranks”.

She dislikes Vivienne on principle, as she’s a noble in every aspect and enjoys that life. Eventually, she comes to respect her and it is somewhat mutual.

Cole’s reading:

“Thoughts… so much. Home. It’s not a game anymore. I can’t say it. What’s the point of knowing… if you can’t change it?”

Companion card changes

Loyalty:

<<Temperance Tarot>>

Romance:

<<TBD>>

Side Mission:

<<TBD>>

When nearing a hidden item:

“Looks like things have been disturbed here...”

When seeing a high dragon:

“Well, great! There’s death coming from every possible direction now.”

Or, if The Iron Bull is in the party:

“...No, Bull. I’m not dying today.”

Side quest reaction(s):

<<TBD>>

Low health:

“Some help would be nice!”

“I wonder...where I’ll go…”

The Inquisitor falls:

(If friendly/romanced) “NO! I won’t let you go!”

(If neutral) “Our Inquisitor needs us!”

(If low approval) “You can’t give up!”

Greeting(s) / Goodbye(s)

Low approval:

“What do you want now?”

“Yeah, you go have fun elsewhere. I’ve got actual work to do.”

Neutral approval:

“Do you need something?”

“Okay. Bye then.”

Friendly:

“Oh, hey! What’s up?”

“Let me know if you need anything else. I’ll be around.”

Romanced:

“O-oh. Uhm… hi!” o///o

“Hope you can spare some time for me later. I’ve… really missed you.” >////>

Opinions on mages / templars / how the world is going to shit?

She’s very much against mages murdering people to retain their freedom, but she is equally against all the abuses that templars had heaped upon them to bring them to this point.

She thinks the rebel mages could be brought to heel and likes the idea of them creating the College of Enchanters, outside the Chantry’s influence, and wants all mages to be free but to be taught how to control their magic and punished appropriately when they do not.

She knows the Templars are useful, but doesn’t like them as an order controlled by the Chantry. She wants them to be disbanded and made into a separate type of guardsman everywhere so mages could live as normal people but still be brought to heel if they went all abomination or killed someone/manipulated them with magic.

She knows what created the breach so she has to keep her mouth shut about it and thus doesn’t like talking about it.

Something guaranteed to make them leave the party?

If you help slavers, take a bribe to turn a blind eye or kill innocents.

                                          Imprisoned at Redcliffe

How is your OC holding up in Redcliffe, being slowly infected with red lyrium over the course of a year?

She heaves this incredibly dramatic sigh when she sees the Inquisitor. Basically just says, “FUCKING FINALLY, GET ME OUT OF THIS CELL.” She’s not infected but it’s been trying for so long that she’s weak as all hell from it stealing her energy.

                                                      The Fade

How they react:

Awe and nervousness. She dreams of this place but the interactions are all different. She is normally protected by spirits, who found her first as she slowly mastered her ‘gift/curse’ and became visible to the other denizens. She may have several whisps following her about as you wander, as they recognized and found her, but they are scared and weakened in the Nightmare’s territory.

Their tombstone:

Being Nothing but a Burden

What fears look like:

Goliath Tigerfish

“Okay, this is fucked up. I know this is the Fade and the laws of normal existence don’t apply, but still! You need water to swim, not air!” ~points accusingly at an approaching nightmare~ “Stop snappin’ your jaws at me you assholes!”

What the Nightmare says:

“And here is the talk of the Fade. The anomaly. The stranger in a strange land.” ~deep, booming laughter~ “Your spirits cannot save you here, child. I have long wondered what kind of creature you would become were I to claim you…”

OR, if romanced:

“Ah, the anomaly. Do you truly know what will happen here? I will tell you, since you crave knowledge. Your beloved will die and I will throw you back to suffer. Wilt away in your guilt and despair. You will feed me and my brethren for years to come, wallowing in it until it is all you know… just like your father.”

Hawke or Warden:

She understand the reasons for both

There will be a minor approval drop for choosing the Warden (large if it is a romanced Alistair)

If Hawke romanced Fenris, there will be a major approval drop

If Hawke romanced anyone else or remained alone, there will be a minor approval drop

The Wardens - Exile or Allies?

Again, she understand the reasons for both. Only a minor approval drop for exile and minor approval boost for making them allies.

                                                     Halamshiral

Where they linger:

If she’s not romanced she’ll probably be near Cullen, engaging him in conversation in order to help keep the “suitors” at bay.

If she or Cullen is romanced she’ll be seeking shelter with Varric and tells you to hurry up so she can get the hell out of this viper’s nest.

Are they good at the Game?

She could be, if she wanted to be. She knows how she just hates using the skills she was brought up with as a child of an upper-middle class family back home.

What people say about them:

(if neither she nor Cullen were romanced)

“Why must that homely girl take up the Commander’s time? Doesn’t she realize her betters need to speak with him?”

(if the Inquisitor romanced her)

“The Inquisitor keeps such homely company… I can’t see why there are rumors about them. She is unremarkable and abrasive.”

“Who is that mouse beside Master Tethras? A fan of his work?”

Gaspard, Briala or Celene?

Briala and Celene together! Always. OTP. Major approval boost for this option.

She’ll give a minor approval boost for Briala blackmailling Gaspard or Celene ruling alone.

Will have a major approval drop for allowing Gaspard to rule alone.

                                                Temple of Mythal

Rituals or Hole?

Ritual. This is their place and you must respect it. Plus, she knows that you’ll get there before it’s too late even if you take the time and knows how to do the puzzle.

Agree with the Elves’ bargain?

YES. She hates having to kill anyone if there’s another way… unless they’re assholes. Abelas kind of is, but not enough to justify being killed. Plus, it’s easier to get where you’re going if you accept and she will be taking photos of the murals and stuff you find along the way for safekeeping/inspection later.

Morrigan or the Inquisitor for the Well?

She leaves it up to the Inquisitor if they’re not involved.

If romanced or if they are friends, she will tell the Inquisitor that they really don’t want to take it in and to let Morrigan do it. “It will be helpful… you just don’t want the burden. Trust me.”

                                                    Trespasser:

Depending on who she’s with, she’ll have done different things.

If she was romanced by the Inquisitor she’d be busy helping with the Inquisition. Creating new tools/helping advance medicine for non-mages as well as mages/trying to recreate basics from home like running water that anyone can install on their houses. She’d go with them to the Exalted Council if asked and will be able to tell them about what’s going on if they asked/wanted to know. She could also be told to stay behind and use her knowledge of the attending nobles to help Josephine.

If she wasn’t romanced by the Inquisitor and Cullen wasn’t romanced, she would be assisting him. She would have expanded her making of the placebo to give to all the Templars that wanted to be off of lyrium. She will likely have also worked with advancing medicine and providing basic improvements to people’s lives. Again, if asked, she would attend the Exalted Council. If not, Cullen will likely ask her to come just to help him retain his sanity. He will ask her to marry him there, as he would have the Inquisitor. She would happily find the Inquisitor to let them know and tell them they need to survive so they can all meet up again for a proper party and feast for the wedding when they get back to Ferelden.

If Zevran was around she’d help him in dealing with the Crows and set up a library where she takes in and “homeschools” recruits that he liberates from the Crows. She’s soon surrounded by children and is unable to attend the Exalted Council. Before she left the Inquisition she acquired a pair of sending crystals so that no matter where she was the Inquisitor could get a hold of her if necessary. She will advise them on what to do if they ask.

If Fenris was around, they’d travel about tracking down slavers and eventually attempt to lead a slave uprising in Tevinter. Since, by the end of her tale she’d be a powerful proper mage she could do reconnaissance in full view and not be thought much of. She would have given the Inquisitor one of a pair of sending crystals to keep in contact and would offer her knowledge if asked during the Exalted Council. In Tevinter, she tips off the right people and kills those that won’t help and then Fenris inspires slaves to rise. She’d meet Dorian on his way back and chuckle, saying, “time to put out the fires and start again. I did the easy part. The rest is up to you.” She’ll probably get hit for that.

I’ll probably add more at some point. Still can’t decide about her side quests... so that’ll have to wait.

#OC: Ariel Grace #Ariel #Ariel Grace #OC's as Inquisition companions #companion info #companion #DA:I companion #DA:I recruitable #MGIT

[lemonela]

This Is How It Gets Better

This is a story of how it gets better. This is about overcoming years of manipulation and emotional abuse. This is about breaking free from a persona I've created of myself. This is about being myself, embracing myself, and knowing my self-worth. This is my story of self-love.

Chapter 1: This Isn't Even Me For the most part, I didn't really like high school. The two years I regret the most are Grade 8 and 9, because there hadn't been a more significant time where I was not myself. It was a typical 'new kid trying to fit in' situation, and I surprisingly managed to feel like I did blend in with everyone else. It was also the first time I felt popular and I'm almost 100% sure that was the only motivation that kept me going with this outward masked identity for two years. I was everything I knew I wasn't. I followed trends, I managed to get a boyfriend (which literally surprised everyone including myself), I must've been outgoing (considering all the people I met), I woke up earlier than I do for most of my classes now just to straighten (though I like to use the word 'damage') my precious curly hair that I love so much... *sigh* the list goes on. Everything just felt so wrong and at some point, I just wanted to drop the role and be myself. Chapter 2: Unloved, Mistrusted, Broken The thing is that there were so many other things going on as well. This drastic change from being this quiet, shy, and innocent girl I was known to be in elementary school to who I became once I entered high school (whom I don't even know how to describe) had shook everyone, and suddenly, my world had flipped. So many questions raised from myself and others. From 'Who am I? Why am I doing this again?' to 'Where are you going anyway? What are you doing?' What hurts the most is that the biggest assumptions came from loved ones, and eventually, I started believing that I was no more than labels. Labels such as 'slut', 'no future', 'wasted life', 'stupid', 'dumb', 'disgrace of a daughter,' etc. I was not trusted, I felt extremely unloved, and after two years of emotional abuse, it broke me to the point where I became suicidal. The monster in this story was everyone against me. It took me and ate up all of the love and respect I ever had for myself. Chapter 3: Existential Crisis Along with external battles, the most significant ones happen within ourselves. Not only was I having to deal with the environment around me, I was already breaking beforehand on the inside. I never realized that I didn't like what I was doing, yet I did it anyway. It became a battle between my mind and my heart. My mind was telling me that I needed to fit it, and my heart was telling me to drop the act. Looking back, I never thought I'd get my first existential crisis (that I was aware of) at 14/15-years-old.  I was going through so much stuff all at once. First off, I kept questioning why exactly I was receiving harsh treatment from my loved ones, as well as why I wasn't being myself at school. 'Have I not always been a good person? What have I done to receive this kind of treatment? What will it take for this nightmare to end? Am I really what they think I am?' -- Lindsey, of course not. Chapter 4: Solitude & Healing At the end of Grade 9, I had an epiphany as I was watching other performers at a dance competition. I decided that I have had enough of mistreatment that I did not deserve and I was exhausted of not being my true self to those around me and myself. I threw away the idea of 'fitting in' and replaced it with a new project. Another great change within was going to happen, but this time, it was only for me.  In Grade 10, I spent a lot of time by myself, because I was figuring stuff out, as well as keeping quiet out of fear for worse situations. Physically speaking, I had stopped damaging my hair with heat and I started dressing the way I wanted to dress. Inside, I was still broken, sad, and angry, as I was recovering from trauma that had not fully stopped, but had calmed down. It's hard to recover from people who hurt you when you live with them, and even harder when there isn't accountability from the perpetrator(s). Despite the bad experiences, I lived with hope in my heart that I would one day heal and my life would get better. Chapter 5: Take Back What You Said Now that I think more about it, 16-year-old Lindsey was my 'angst-teen' era. Despite becoming very attached to the Catholic faith at the time, I was ironically judgemental towards those who did not have faith in God, or who claimed they did, but still continued doing bad things. I wanted to prove to my family that they got it all wrong, almost that I had adapted their own judgements, but it was obviously done in a very unhealthy way. Bashing others and their life choices didn't make me look or feel any better. I was being negative towards others and myself, when what I needed was optimism, hope, and love. After a year of hateful attitude towards basically my whole grade, I took a step back and decided that I should stop this unhealthy 'I'm better than you' comparison habit that I had developed in order to cope with the trauma of misconstrued labels placed upon me. The journey of self-love doesn't develop when you're comparing yourself to others. It starts when you start taking responsibility for your actions and start making better decisions on how you want to live your life. Chapter 6: Be What You Believe In After having my second existential crisis, most things went uphill from there on out. I discovered role models that I could look up to, drowned myself in positivity and self-help books, and most importantly, I started to regain love and respect for myself. The depressing feelings that I had were slowly, but surely making their way out. More than three years after the start of my trauma, 2015 was a whirlwind of obstacles (read This Is My Story for more details) and I wasn't fully stable from what I've been through from the past. Aside from it being a difficult year, it was also very empowering. My trip to France that year was a huge highlight. I fell in love with the country because of the feelings it gave me. It had given me new perspectives -- the notion that there are so many places to explore in the world, that there are so many people out there to meet, and that life can be so beautiful and worth living if you choose to make it that way. It was also the year I created Livin'Lin which was a project I've been wanting to do for years, and look where its brought me. Look where I've brought myself! Chapter 7: Hi, I'm Lindsey, aka Livin'Lin, aka That Girl In The Yellow Jacket You know how everyone has a story to tell? That one story that has shaped them into being who they are now? What you've just read is that story for me. For that reason alone, despite my past self going through the lowest of times, it's for those experiences that I overcame which remind me of how strong I really am. Most days, I am proud of who I am and I am so thankful to be here. If I hadn't decided to be myself, I wouldn't have found some of the best and closest friends I have now. If I hadn't decided to kill myself, I wouldn't be able to be my little brother's role model. If I hadn't decided to take a stand against false labels and home bullies, I would not have been the outspoken, shameless, and badass woman I am now.

If you've made it this far, thank you. This story means so much to me. MENTAL HEALTH NOTE:

If you're wondering why I've decided to share this story, it's because it empowers me to open up about experiences I could not talk about before. With such traumatic experiences, it's no doubt that the healing process will be lengthy and full of surprises. In fact, I didn't even realize I was being emotionally abused until I saw a Buzzfeed video last year on the subject that still brings me to tears whenever I watch it. I used to think about abuse as physical abuse, but later on, I found out that abuse can also destroy you mentally. I also didn't realize I was being manipulated by someone until a few weeks ago when I was having another introspective moment at night, wondering more of the why in my creation of false self-image in my early teens.  This story still causes me to break down when I talk about it (oh man, I bawled my eyes out when I was writing the first three chapters that I had to take a walk), but I've gotten a lot better at controlling myself. The summer of 2015, I went to my family doctor and told her that I may be depressed because of what I had been through. At the time, I was very scared of labels like that, fearing that despite my hard work in becoming better, I was actually a mess. I started telling her My Story and burst into tears; resulting in me not being able to finish it. My diagnosis was social anxiety, PTSD, and situational depression. For a long time, I've been quiet about what has happened to me, because it brings back (mostly) terrible memories. I endured being severely anxious to speak to loved ones, out of fear that what ever I was going to say was going to be misconstrued and turned against me. I was scared for a long time, so what ever growth I was going through, I kept to myself.  From the birth of Livin'Lin to now, I've opened up so much towards myself, my friends, my classmates, my family, and whoever reads my words online. If I could go back in time, I would tell my younger self that what ever she is experiencing, she will get through it, because she is so much stronger than what others think of her. She is a warrior and she can get through anything life throws at her. I want her to know that even though she didn't receive the love she needed, she found it within herself. And when she discovered that love, she would share it with the world to inspire others, bring happiness into their lives, and hope that they also discover their full potential. To my readers, to the countless strangers who have sent me long messages that weren't necessary, not a day goes by that I'm head-over-heels thankful that I made all of the decisions I've made so far in my life. I dreamed of having my voice heard for a long time and because of me creating this blog, my voice was heard, and now, I only want to create an even bigger impact. Remember that you're the one in control of your own life and you have all of this power inside of you to do some good in this world. Even if you haven't found it, believe that you will. -- You are loved, you are so important, and you are so special -- the world is just waiting for you to share your soul with them. Love, always Lindsey xoxo

#mental health #self-love #empowerment #personal

[deathbytitanium]

Something More? - A Nessian Fic (Chapter 3)

Chapter 3 is here! Hope you like it! (AO3 if you prefer!)

“What are you doing on my couch?”

Those were the words that woke him. He felt confused. Why was he on some girls couch? What time was it?

“Cassian, what are you doing here?” This time he was more awake when the voice spoke to him again, so he recognized the voice this time. Feyre. He groaned as he remembered exactly where he was. And why he had stayed there.

“Good morning to you too, Feyre.” he said, sounding petulant even to his own ears, while he opened his eyes and stared up at her. Then he looked around, realizing it was past the time that he normally woke.

“Look, Cass, sorry to burst whatever bubble you’ve got going on, but everyone is coming over to tease Nesta about her drinking yesterday. And they’re bringing food and stuff. So… yeah. They’ll be here in like five minutes.”

“Ah crap.” he said when he realized what it looked like, him being here, same clothes as last night. Having been slightly intoxicated the night before and in charge of a very intoxicated Nesta.

Feyre nodded somberly, “I’m pretty sure nothing happened between the two of you, given that you’re in front of her door like a guard dog.”

Cassian sighed, “Look, Feyre, she was really drunk-”

“Yeah, I know, I saw her drinking.”

“Well, she was drunker than what you think.” He saw her lift a brow , “Seriously Feyre, we-” he sighed a curse under his breath, “We came up here, she asked me to fool around with her then she practically assaulted me.”

Her eyes widened, then she smirked, “I knew it! You guys have been fooling around. How many times has that happened?”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Seriously Feyre, that was what you took from what I said?” she looked at him pointedly, he knew that look, there was no way around it, “Not many,” he sighed, “Point is, we talked, she tried, multiple times , to get me to agree with her, so I was super worried and slept here, as you so kindly said, like a guard dog.”

“She assaulted you?” she asked.

Cassian shook his head, “Not really, but she was convinced that she wanted me. She tried to get me to agree that we should at least make out and she was handsy for a moment there, but nothing I couldn’t handle.”

“Oh.” Feyre said, scrunching her nose up in displeasure at the thought, “She’s going to hate herself when she remembers what happened.”

He thought about it, then he felt his lips twitch, “It was actually kinda cute, in a tragic/funny way.” He looked back at Nesta’s bedroom door, smiling at the beautiful girl inside.

Feyre had lifted her brow when he looked back at her, “When are you going to make a move, Cass?” she said quietly.

He just shook his head, “You say ‘make a move’ like anything with Nesta would be that easy.”

The doorbell rings and next thing he knows the entire gang spills in through the door.

Her head was literally exploding. Right this moment she knew exactly what a bomb felt like right before it exploded into oblivion. She was never going to drink again. Never going to drink again. Never again. Never again.

She opened the door of her bedroom, “Why is everything so loud?” she moaned.

There was a chorus of “Good morning, Nesta!”

“Why is everybody here, Fey?” she moaned again, walking to the kitchen and hugging her little sister.

“They brought food.” Feyre says.

“And Aspirin?”

“Yep,” Rhys said, putting down the bottle in front of me.

“You are a god, Rhysand. Fey, your boyfriend is a god.”

Feyre laughed, “Yeah, I know Nez.”

Cassian placed a plate of assorted foods in front of her: what each member of the circle claimed were sure hangover cures . “Eat up, sweetheart, you have things to do, I'm sure.”

Nesta groaned, “Yes, but can't I just stay in bed?”

Cassian nodded with mock seriousness, “Yes, you can. But then who would be the biggest overachiever in the bunch?”

Mor chimed in, “He has a point Nez, if you skip today,” she shook her head, “Cassian will hold the title.”

She sighed, “Literally any other argument wouldn't have convinced me. Mor, you are an evil genius and I hate you for it.”

She gave an airy laugh, “Don't hate, we need the girls to stay in power for that category. They have so many already. Woman power!”

Nesta lifted her mug of coffee in a salute. Then she frowned as her head gave a particularly painful pulse of pain, “What if my head hurts really bad?” she whined, sounding childish.

Feyre chimed in, “That’s what the Aspirin is for. You get to take the bottle with you once you leave for your class in an hour.”

Nesta groaned, “I bet I look horrible too.” Everyone said “No!” in unison, confirming, beyond reasonable doubt, that she did indeed look horrible. She looked around at her friends and her eyes lingered on Cassian, “Hey, why are you wearing yesterday’s clothes?” she asked, pointing to him.

All the eyes in the room turned to him, he gave them all a smug smile, “Wanna guess, sweetheart?”

For a few seconds her mind dwelt to the most obvious answer to that . Had she gotten drunk enough that she thought that sleeping with Cassian had sounded like a good idea? But that made no sense. As she thought back to the night before, she remembered distinctly him calling her “Naughty Nesta”… “Oh God.” she said out loud before she could stop herself.

The entire room erupted into cheers, everyone but her, Feyre and Cassian. She cradled her throbbing head in her hands whimpering pathetically. “Why is everybody shouting?”

Cassian chuckled, “They are misinterpreting our previous statements as a declaration that we had sex last night. We didn’t, by the way, guys. She just embarrassed herself badly enough that I was worried to leave her alone. I crashed on the couch.”

There was a collective sigh of disappointment from her friends. “Jesus Christ, people, what is this fascination you have with that?” Nesta growled, “Mind your own relationships, how about that?” She started eating her breakfast of hangover remedies. They were yummy. See her friends weren’t all bad, though they had a tendency to become annoying at a moment's notice.

Cassian nodded, “I’m going to have to agree with her on that one guys. Mind your own business and, believe it or not, we can mind ours.”

Azriel took Mor’s waist and tucked her into him, “They’re right you know. Fun as it is to tease them, we shouldn’t push.”

Mor pouted but her boyfriend whispered something in her ear that made her giggle.

She was able to finish her breakfast surrounded by easy quiet conversations. She got up and decided she should give herself a look in the mirror and try to tame the situation that was her face. She still had like twenty minutes, she could put her hair in a bun and throw a little makeup on.

It took her all the time she had, but she looked much less hungover when she went back out. Cassian gave her a once over, nodded, then said, “Ready to go?” She gave him one of her looks and he just lifted his eyebrow, “I’m still worried that you may spontaneously combust from all the alcohol.” He gave her a look that said they needed to talk about yesterday. Oh God, what did she do yesterday?

She just rolled her eyes, got her bag and pulled her coat on. Cassian opened the door and they both stepped out.

They were already half way down the block when Cassian started, “Look, Nez, about yesterday.” Nesta felt herself shrink into the walls carefully constructed for herself. He looked at her and frowned, “Come on, don’t do that.”

“Do what?” she said flatly, “I was out of my mind drunk yesterday, you probably just misunderstood me.”

He stopped and cornered her into one of the buildings, “I hate doing this Nesta, but for fuck’s sake. First you try your hardest to get me to kiss you, then you talk about some ex-fiance that got really mad at you when you broke up with him - that’s what you said by the way. Now what I want to know is what exactly happened, because when you talked you looked scared. And my mind jumped to the worst possible scenario.” His look was almost mean, it was so unwavering, “Tell me I’m wrong.”

She felt like she was going to hyperventilate, “I’m going to be late for class.”

He smiled ironically, “Well, I don’t have class, so right after I go to work I’m either going to pick you up here or show up at your place. Either way, you aren’t getting rid of me until you explain. Because right now I feel like killing the little fucker and I don’t even know who he is .”

He stopped caging her into the wall and she walked away to her class that she probably wouldn’t even pay attention to, at this point.

Class was shit. All of them. The whole thing with Cassian was exactly why she hadn’t told anyone about what Tomas had done. She wasn’t stupid, she had started going to a psychiatrist after Feyre had settled a little better. She was okay, really. It just really sucked to talk about.

She was walking out of the building when she heard someone call her name. She looked around and saw her professor. Russian lit professor. This shitty day had just taken a turn for the worst.

“Nesta Archeron, I was hoping to bump into you.” He was smiling. She hated him. So much. Him and his handsome face. Why the hell did he have to be hot and a total jerk? “Can you come with me to my office? I want to discuss your paper."

Nesta looked around hoping that she'd find an excuse not to go. Seeing none, she walked with her professor as they made small talk. When they finally entered the office her heart had made it’s way down to her stomach.

They sat down and Mr. Czerny cleared his throat, “Look, Nesta, you are an amazing student. I’ve seen your grades and I’ve read some of your essays for other classes and with that much information I can’t, in good conscience, give you an A on the ones you have turned in for my class. You’re just not doing your best.”

She blinked at him, “So what you’re saying, basically is that you’re holding me to a higher standard because you assume that I am somehow capable of more?” she shook her head, “Forgive me if I sound insolent, but you are simply telling me that you don’t have a standard for giving grades. You are telling me that all your grades are arbitrary. And that, sir, is simply unfair.”

“While I understand where you are coming from I don’t agree. I…”

“Sir, the standards that you hold your students to has to be the same, regardless of your opinion on us. Will you look at one student and deem them unfit to get an A by my standard so you give them an A even if they hand in a C worthy essay because that is all they are capable of? I find it very demeaning, Mr. Czerny. And very unfair. It also means your grades mean virtually nothing, because you don’t grade by content and achievement, you grade by what you think about the person.”

He started to open his mouth to counter her but she stopped him, “So, really, it doesn’t matter if I understand the subtleties of Russian governmental protest in their literature. Or the fact that Anna Karenina is actually a dissection of Russian high society. You are just going to give me whatever grade you want, whether you say that it’s because you somehow deem I could do better or because you simply don’t like me.”

She lifted herself with her chair with all the grace she had been taught by her mother to possess and walked out of the office. Goddamnit she was furious. She wished she had magic so she could just burn that sad man alive. Didn’t he understand that this was all she had? If she didn’t have this, her grades, school, she didn’t have anything. Her family life was shit, she hadn’t talked to her father since the day she left for college, one of her two sisters lived miles away at a different college and the only reason Feyre lived with her was because of what that asshat Tamlin did to her. She only had friends because of Feyre. The last time she had had a relationship it had ended in an attempted rape. She cringed at the thought.

What had her life become?

How had she let herself get to this point? She had gone under after all that happened, right now she was half drowned in her own problems and insecurities. Why else would she have this mental block with Cassian? She needed to sort this shit out.

She was about to have the breakdown she had predicted when she heard a familiar voice say “Hey, sweetheart.”

And the only thing that came to mind at that moment was fuck this. Fuck all this shit. So she turned to see Cassian standing with a smirk on his stupid face. She grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him down. Then she kissed him.

#nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #modern au #fanfic #acotar #acomaf #acowar #fanfiction #college au

[anthonybialy]

Left from a Left Turn

We are calmly headed toward the joyous people's republic socialist ideal that embodies if only voters are wise enough to embrace communal decency. This will be the time it works.

Liberal maniacs ensure they'll have enough rage fuel for another term by helping Donald damn Trump get reelected. All the rather boastful president will have to do is belittle his opponents' drive to copy the most optimistic goals of the Sandinistas. Thanks to those who help him in his lifelong goal to avoid listing accomplishments.

Pushing Democrats to embrace daft semi-communism causes a chain reaction which will keep their enemy in place so they can keep condemning him. To be fair, whining is way more fun than governing. Hmmm, it's almost psychological.

Please don't demean pinkos by comparing them to the Democratic field. Statist presidential hopefuls don't want to completely replicate East Germany, as they hate walls. And said enmity is not even for the right reasons, as keeping people from leaving is kind of the opposite of keeping people out. Stripping America's wealth in order to fuel class warfare fantasies is one way to keep illegal immigration low.

The alliance between reparations fans and Electoral College enemies is not electable, but at least it’s for sinister reasons. Awful ideas are the only way to lose to an awful candidate.

The biggest chance for Democrats to take over in awhile is being provided by a reality show buffoon who compensates for his lack of sales by bragging that he's the best at sales. But wholly calm dissenters can only shriek how they hate the president more than Hitler, which they justify by claiming he's the ruder modern incarnation. Such a histrionic strategy is as bad as their platform, so at least they can manage consistency.

Seeing Trump as an opportunity to offer contrast is wise. Inflicting Medicare on everyone is just a bit too much. Disregard how often an ostensible Republican spends as government fans wish.

Preposterous debt used to be something the alleged pro-business party pretended to fight. But better management of an unwieldy federal government isn't thrilling. Instead, the opposition guarantees they'll give us an economy to make Venezuela proud. Now, there's a country that cares about fighting childhood obesity and large carbon footprints.

Every issue is on steroids. The Democratic lust for gun confiscation is almost as fervent as trusting a Godzilla-style government with your health. The real problem is you’re allowed to keep money that belongs to all of us. Stop being greedy and hand over what you earned to everyone else. The contempt for success may seem un-American, but that's the price of strangling the economy until everyone can't breathe equally.

The ceaseless freakout is helping the man they hate most stay in office. Hillary already did her part, which is one of the only amusing things about enduring a Trump presidency. It's important to avoid lessons if you're certain you are never incorrect. Present politics don't inspire any feeling greater than relief someone even worse fails to access power. I remain a crazy dreamer who hopes someday to have a leader so competent that we forget the person exists from day to day.

Let's not use a pompous buffoon's reign to learn to limit power. Trump's enemies promise to use the same government they say gives him too much authority to make life pleasant. It's different when they are granted authority because they're responsible about believing a president can micromanage nationally. They don't want to use their worst enemy abusing power like it's his mandate to prove liberalism's perils.

Change the names if you want the other side cheering. Tariffs will be cool again if, say, someone as wise and decent as Woke Joe Biden gets the chair. Those who shriek about how the incumbent does everything as crudely as he does foolishly may have a point, but they don’t have to govern.

Yelling that you're doing it wrong is easier, which is why most people enjoy watching sports. Trump wishes he didn't have to quarterback anymore, which may be the same reason he sunk the USFL. Building a vertical surface on the southern border when the congressional majority was ostensibly from the same party would've meant so much work.

Emboldened Trump-loathing Democrats are unabashed in their demands to keep you from doing anything you want, especially if that involves a bigger paycheck. Like Fox turning into a hardcore sex channel so gradually that viewers don't even notice, Democrats lust to seize authority in little steps. The incremental assault was either so the shift was imperceptibly gradual or because those bits were all they could grab at once. Voters can decide which invasion strategy is better.

You notice if all your cash is gone in a way you won't if one bill disappears at a time. Confiscating more of what's yours before you even noticed what's missing was the only thing Democrats did well. Sneakily taking small steps got the government sort-of in everything like they wanted. But now they lurch for the rest. Have they gone insane or are they just more honest about it?

The government will care for you, according to those who hate the head of state more than cancer. The opposition party is as good at reading the electorate as they are human nature. Sure, it's possible to win some votes and even many elections by promising that unlimited free junk is obtainable if we just believe hard enough. But mathematics does not succumb to peer pressure.

The only thing funnier than thinking government is good at anything is figuring the most successful will continue to toil to keep the federal furnace stoked with currency. Our only consolation is the hope that shrieking socialism is unpalatable to enough voters even if appeals to a disturbing sliver of ironically greedy voters.

The self-styled resistance is so emotional about Trump's presidency that they forget to pretend they don't want to control every aspect of our lives. They're just letting him win again, which is sure to make them happier.

[duaneodavila]

The “Unsexy” New Rules For Federal Judges

The oddity, that was only lost on the people doing the preaching, was that none of the @ClerksForChange who spoke at the hearing on changes to the rules of conduct for federal judges suffered a scintilla of harassment, sexism, misogyny, any of the evils about which they complained. Each proclaimed their judge to have been wonderful, a paradigm of propriety.

But they had stories. Other people’s stories. Where these other people were, what they were complaining about was unclear. There were the Koz clerks, who only managed to shift from their adoration and appreciation of judge Alex Kozinski to their ripping him to shreds after they served out their clerkship and enjoyed the huge benefits of having been a Koz clerk. Ironically, the only example given was of one senior judge from flyover land whose one twit was proof of the particular speaker’s being sexually harassed. By a twit. One twit. Not to her.

The new rules have now been formulated and were announced by judge Merrick Garland.

The changes to the disciplinary system were adopted following sexual misconduct claims against a once prominent appeals court judge in California, Alex Kozinski.

Kozinski stepped down from the bench after The Washington Post reported that 15 women had accused him of a range of misconduct.

The Koz scandal raised two issues, the first being what he did, but the second was the outrage over the end of the investigation upon his resignation. That Koz was bad was ended with his tenure, but that wasn’t nearly enough for those who wanted his conduct put on display for all to hate.

The thrust of their complaint was that Judge Kozinski’s sexual harassment and assault wouldn’t be available in disgusting detail to point to as proof that female clerks who never personally endured an iota of impropriety were nonetheless survivors by proxy. The end of the investigation into Koz denied them of their moment of glory. They were mad and demanded changes.

At a press briefing Tuesday at the Supreme Court, Merrick Garland, the chief judge of the federal appeals court in Washington, announced the adoption of the new system for handling workplace harassment complaints. Under the new rules, judges and court employees are required to report likely misconduct, and retaliation against individuals who disclose bad behavior also constitutes misconduct.

The reporting misconduct is not precluded by chambers confidentiality and protected from retaliation is both appropriate and uncontroversial, even though it was the excuse for why clerks whose stories were told long after the fact never resulted in complaints at the time. But what constitutes “likely misconduct,” or as the new rules characterize it, “cognizable misconduct,” is the question.

(2) Abusive or Harassing Behavior. Cognizable misconduct includes:

(A) engaging in unwanted, offensive, or abusive sexual conduct, including sexual harassment or assault; (B) treating litigants, attorneys, judicial employees, or others in a demonstrably egregious and hostile manner; or (C) creating a hostile work environment for judicial employees.

There is no further definition of what constitutes sexual harassment or hostile work environment, though as as subsection (B) states, harassing behavior of “judicial employees, or others in a demonstrably egregious and hostile manner” seems directed to the concerns that federal judges will be the target of newly-minted law clerks roaming the back hallways of the courthouse in search of a judge uttering a word or idea they were taught in their “Gender and the Law” class is traumatic, triggering and conclusive proof of misogyny.

So what is “harassment”? What is a “hostile work environment”? The Codes of Conduct fail to offer any cognizable definition. Presumably, it’s the same as set forth for employment discrimination under Title VII, that it must be severe and pervasive, but it’s peculiar that these changes were made and yet there is no attempt to define the word “harassment,” as meaningless a word as exists in the law. Is harassment an objective thing, or whatever the “survivor” of words or ideas chooses it to be, as has become the popular definition among the deeply sensitive?

Still, the new rules were sufficient to soothe the savage clerks, who could take comfort in there being new rules at all even if they didn’t quite achieve the public inquisition and flaying at the whim of the most passionate transitory employee in the courthouse.

Jaime Santos, an appellate attorney who helped found Law Clerks for Workplace Accountability, said she is pleased that judges who become aware of misconduct are now obligated to report it.

Santos, whose organization has worked with the judiciary to combat workplace harassment, said the judiciary should hire independent investigators to handle complaints and that any allegations made against judges should be automatically be referred to a different circuit. “These measures would better ensure actual neutrality and increase employee confidence that they will receive a fair and impartial investigation and adjudication if they are brave enough to come forward and report harassment if they experience or witness it,” she said.

To the extent the new rules clarify that misconduct in chambers isn’t subject to confidentiality, that there should be no retaliation against anyone complaining and that clerks should not be subject to some of bizarre and egregious conduct that apparently occurred in Judge Kozinski’s chambers, they are appropriate and a positive step forward.

To the extent they blunt the demand that every Article III judge be subject to whatever the latest fashion trend in social justice purity by the most woke law clerk in the courthouse, then subject to scrutiny by outside inquisitors, the new rules are appropriate as well. Judges shouldn’t engage in sexual misconduct, and the fact that this needs to be said is, frankly, shocking. But going beyond misconduct into the realm of the most sensitive clerk’s feelings about political correctness was a step too far.

There should be confidence that federal judges, given the enormity of their authority, behave properly and in accordance with law. There should also be confidence that they aren’t cowed by the fear that any new clerk in the courthouse can dictate the words they use or the ideas they express. The rules seem to do a fairly good job of maintaining this balance, even if the word “harassment” remains as much of a mystery as ever.

The “Unsexy” New Rules For Federal Judges republished via Simple Justice