#there just aren't any houses available for us

[magnetothemagnificent]

The world is so hostile to tweens.....

Like we joke about how our schools growing up would ban the latest toy trends, but that reality genuinely horrific when you think about it. Like maybe 1% of the bans were based on safety, but the rest cited reasoning like

-"kids were bartering for collectibles" (kids learning about economics and product value)

-"kids were wearing them and the colors were too flashy" (kids experimenting with self expression and fashion)

-"kids were playing with them during lunch and recess instead of using our rusted safety hazard playground" (kids utilizing their free time to do what helps *them* unwind).

Play areas specifically geared towards children and especially towards teens are constantly being shut down. "Oh kids today are always on their phones!" Maybe because

-there are barely any arcades left and even less arcades that aren't adult-oriented,

-public pools and gyms are underfunded and shut down,

-"no loitering" laws prevent kids and teens from just hanging out,

-movie theatres only play the latest films and ticket prices are only rising,

-parks and playgrounds are either neglected or replaced with gear only directed at toddlers and unsuitable for anyone older

-genuine children's and young teen media is being phased out in favour of media directed only at very small children or older teens and adults.

-suburbs and even cities are becoming more and more hostile to pedestrians, it's just not safe for kids to walk to or ride their bikes to their friends' houses or other play destinations

Children's agency is hardly ever respected. Kids between the ages of 9-13 are either treated as babies or as full-grown adults, with no in-between. When they ask to be given more independence, they are either scoffed at or given more responsibilities than are reasonable for a child their age.

This is even evident in the fashion scene.

Clothing stores and brands like Justice and Gap are either closing or rebranding to either exclusively adult clothing or young children's clothes, with no middle ground for tweens. Tweens have to choose between clothes designed for adults that are too large and/or too mature for their age and bodies, or more clothes they feel are far too childish. For tween girls especially it's either a frilly pinafore dress with pigtails or a woman's size dress with cleavage. No wonder tween girls these days dress like they're older, it's because their other option is little girl clothes and they don't want to feel childish.

And then when tweens go to school, the books they want to read aren't available because they cover "mature" topics (read: oh no two people kissed and they weren't straight or oh no menstruation was mentioned or oh no a religion other than Christianity is depicted), so kids are left with books for way below their reading level. No wonder kids today are struggling with literacy, it's because they can't exercise and expand their reading skills with age-appropriate books. Readers need to be challenged with new words and concepts in order to grow in their skills, only letting tween read Dr. Seuss and nursery rhymes doesn't let them learn.

Discussions about substance use, reproduction, and sexuality aren't taught at an age-appropriate level in school or even by children's parents, so they either grow up ignorant and more vulnerable to abuse, or they seek out information elsewhere that is delivered in a less-than-age-appropriate manner. It shouldn't be a coin-toss between "I didn't know what sex was until I was 18 and in college" or "my first exposure to sex as a tween was through porn" or "I didn't know what sex was so I didn't know I was being sexually abused as a kid."

Tweenhood is already such a volatile and confusing time for kids, their bodies are changing and they're transitioning from elementary to middle to high school. It's hard enough for them in this stage, but it's made worse by how society devalues and fails them.

We talk about the disappearance of teenagehood, and maybe that's gonna happen in the future, but the erasure of tweenhood is happing in real time, and it's having and going to have major consequences for next generation's adults.

#leftie shit #i guess #ageism #social issues #tweenhood #the disappearance of tweenhood #current events #relevant issues

[katrafiy]

I think about this image a lot. This is an image from the Aurat March (Women's March) in Karachi, Pakistan, on International Women's Day 2018. The women in the picture are Pakistani trans women, aka khwaja siras or hijras; one is a friend of a close friend of mine.

In the eyes of the Pakistani government and anthropologists, they're a "third gender." They're denied access to many resources that are available to cis women. Trans women in Pakistan didn't decide to be third-gendered; cis people force it on them whether they like it or not.

Western anthropologists are keen on seeing non-Western trans women as culturally constructed third genders, "neither male nor female," and often contrast them (a "legitimate" third gender accepted in its culture) with Western trans women (horrific parodies of female stereotypes).

There's a lot of smoke and mirrors and jargon used to obscure the fact that while each culture's trans women are treated as a single culturally constructed identity separate from all other trans women, cis women are treated as a universal category that can just be called "women."

Even though Pakistani aurat and German Frauen and Guatemalan mujer will generally lead extraordinarily different lives due to the differences in culture, they are universally recognized as women.

The transmisogynist will say, "Yes, but we can't ignore the way gender is culturally constructed, and hijras aren't trans women, they're a third gender. Now let's worry less about trans people and more about the rights of women in Burkina Faso."

In other words, to the transmisogynist, all cis women are women, and all trans women are something else.

"But Kat, you're not Indian or Pakistani. You're not a hijra or khwaja sira, why is this so important to you?"

Have you ever heard of the Neapolitan third gender "femminiello"? It's the term my moniker "The Femme in Yellow" is derived from, and yes, I'm Neapolitan. Shut up.

I'm going to tell you a little bit about the femminielli, and I want you to see if any of this sounds familiar. Femminielli are a third gender in Neapolitan culture of people assigned male at birth who have a feminine gender expression.

They are lauded and respected in the local culture, considered to be good omens and bringers of good luck. At festivals you'd bring a femminiello with you to go gambling, and often they would be brought in to give blessings to newborns. Noticing anything familiar yet?

Oh and also they were largely relegated to begging and sex work and were not allowed to be educated and many were homeless and lived in the back alleys of Naples, but you know we don't really like to mention that part because it sounds a lot less romantic and mystical.

And if you're sitting there, asking yourself why a an accurate description of femminiello sounds almost note for note like the same way hijras get described and talked about, then you can start to understand why that picture at the start of this post has so much meaning for me.

And you can also start to understand why I get so frustrated when I see other queer people buy into this fool notion that for some reason the transes from different cultures must never mix.

That friend I mentioned earlier is a white American trans woman. She spent years living in India, and as I recal the story the family she was staying with saw her as a white, foreign hijra and she was asked to use her magic hijra powers to bless the house she was staying in.

So when it comes to various cultural trans identities there are two ways we can look at this. We can look at things from a standpoint of expressed identity, in which case we have to preferentially choose to translate one word for the local word, or to leave it untranslated.

If we translate it, people will say we're artificially imposing an outside category (so long as it's not cis people, that's fine). If we don't, what we're implying, is that this concept doesn't exist in the target language, which suggests that it's fundamentally a different thing

A concrete example is that Serena Nanda in her 1990 and 2000 books, bent over backwards to say that Hijras are categorically NOT trans women. Lots of them are!

And Don Kulick bent over backwards in his 1998 book to say that travesti are categorically NOT trans women, even though some of the ones he cited were then and are now trans women.

The other option, is to look at practice, and talk about a community of practice of people who are AMAB, who wear women's clothing, take women's names, fulfill women's social roles, use women's language and mannerisms, etc WITHIN THEIR OWN CULTURAL CONTEXT.

This community of practice, whatever we want to call it - trans woman, hijra, transfeminine, femminiello, fairy, queen, to name just a few - can then be seen to CLEARLY be trans-national and trans-cultural in a way that is not clearly evident in the other way of looking at things.

And this is important, in my mind, because it is this axis of similarity that is serving as the basis for a growing transnational transgender rights movement, particularly in South Asia. It's why you see pictures like this one taken at the 2018 Aurat March in Karachi, Pakistan.

And it also groups rather than splits, pointing out not only points of continuity in the practices of western trans women and fa'afafines, but also between trans women in South Asia outside the hijra community, and members of the hijra community both trans women and not.

To be blunt, I'm not all that interested in the word trans woman, or the word hijra. I'm not interested in the word femminiello or the word fa'afafine.

I'm interested in the fact that when I visit India, and I meet hijras (or trans women, self-expressed) and I say I'm a trans woman, we suddenly sit together, talk about life, they ask to see American hormones and compare them to Indian hormones.

There is a shared community of practice that creates a bond between us that cis people don't have. That's not to say that we all have the exact same internal sense of self, but for the most part, we belong to the same community of practice based on life histories and behavior.

I think that's something cis people have absolutely missed - largely in an effort to artificially isolate trans women. This practice of arguing about whether a particular "third gender" label = trans women or not, also tends to artificially homogenize trans women as a group.

You see this in Kulick and Nanda, where if you read them, you could be forgiven for thinking all American trans women are white, middle class, middle-aged, and college-educated, who all follow rigid codes of behavior and surgical schedules prescribed by male physicians.

There are trans women who think of themselves as separate from cis women, as literally another kind of thing, there are trans women who think of themselves as coterminous with cis women, there are trans women who think of themselves as anything under the sun you want to imagine.

The problem is that historically, cis people have gone to tremendous lengths to destroy points of continuity in the transgender community (see everything I've cited and more), and particularly this has been an exercise in transmisogyny of grotesque levels.

The question is do you want to talk about culturally different ways of being trans, or do you want to try to create as many neatly-boxed third genders as you can to prop up transphobic theoretical frameworks? To date, people have done the latter. I'm interested in the former.

I guess what I'm really trying to say with all of this is that we're all family y'all.

#transgender #third gender #hijras #femminielli #trans women are women #trans solidarity #trans rights #transmisogyny #transunity #transunitism #this is what trans unity looks like

[commodorez]

Strange question, but I'm curious. Do you have a least favourite computer?

Ohhhh, good one. I'm going to make some enemies for these, I'm sure.

Least favorite vintage computer:

Apple I

Not for any technical reasons, or anything about its history. I happen to like and respect Steve Wozniak, and everything he did in the service of computing in the 1970s. His ROM monitor known as WOZMON is only 256 bytes so it can fit into a first generation 1702A EPROM, which is damned impressive. I use the newer EWOZMON regular basis on other 6502 machines.

The Apple I exemplifies a computer that no longer exists as a computer. Rather, it's become the legendary trading card for the ultrawealthy techbro types who seek to commodify the history of the home computer revolution that they didn't bother to study. It's been reduced to no more than a static display piece, and a cornerstone of revisionist history, ignoring the larger picture.

An Apple I is considered too monetarily valuable to risk applying power to or fixing, "gotta leave it original!" with failed, leaky capacitors, doing nothing. Well if you can't use it, it ceases to be a computer because it isn't computing anything. They had almost a dozen of them at VCF West XIV, most of which were under plexiglass with a hired guard to keep an eye on them because the high price they fetch. Only one was powered up at a time under the watchful gaze of experts, handling things with museum gloves. Unlike other exhibits, these were not available to be touched or interacted with (which defeats the whole reason people enjoy vintage computer festivals).

Assuming you look beyond the hype, and get your hands on a working Apple I? It turns out to be quite underpowered and limited -- which makes sense, Woz was optimizing the shit outta his part count and budget! I wish I had his skills. It was a major technical achievement to get it to do that much with so little. It's a TV Typewriter (RIP Don Lancaster) bolted to a minimal 6502. If i had one at my disposal in the 1970s, I'd probably do like the contemporary hackers did and modify it as my budget and skills allowed. But it's 2024 and an Apple I -- you aren't allowed to do that. No, if I had an Apple I, I could sell it and buy a house with that money.

If it weren't for all that, I think I'd probably just be indifferent to it, or maybe even like it for what it is.

Least favorite general computer:

eMachines eTower 600is

What a piece of shit. I had one when it was new, running Windows ME and it was hot garbage. I could not stand this underpowered excuse for a computer after a few months when the new computer sheen wore off. Floppy drive died too soon. Didn't come with the advertised 64MB of RAM (who puts 33MB of RAM in a computer?). Hard drive was only 10GB, kept filling it up. It was filled with bloatware, the keyboard was cheap garbage. I don't begrudge my parents for buying it, they didn't know any better and I was too young to have any say in the matter. That said, it endured the shortest tenure of any computer in my house to date.

Never obsolete my ass.

#apple i #emachines #etower 600is #windows me

[structuredsucc]

So... what exactly are executive functioning supports...?

Planners, checklists, and reminders are definitely executive function supports, but they aren't the only things that are available. ...so, I've made a list of some examples. A thread (🧵)

Executive functioning includes so much, so executive function supports can be SO MANY things. Executive functions include decision making, working memory, task initiation, planning, prioritizing, many forms of self-regulation, and more.

So let's talk in broad categories

Category 1: Decisionmaking

Avoiding a decision altogether,

Choosing randomly,

Reducing the number of options to decide between,

Always doing the same decision (such as having a uniform for yourself),

Outsourcing decisions,

Having outside structure/expectations

Category 2: Working memory

Keeping things visible,

Reminders,

Collaborators who gently remind you of things,

Writing it down (i.e., notebooks, post-its, to-do lists, etc.),

External structure such as lunch hours,

Understanding why and how working memory fails

Category 3: Information processing

Avoiding weak processing areas (eg. reading for dyslexics like me)

Have information in multiple forms,

Make information processing context relevant,

Reduce incoming information or competing demands

Category 4: Task Management

Body doubling,

Transition time,

To-do lists,

Breaking tasks down (including people to help with that),

External structure for identify the next step,

clear, explicit instructions,

Schedules, planners, itineraries.

Category 5: Organization

Mind maps,

Labels, 

Notetaking templates,

Physical organizers,

Organizing methods (Kondo, Only 4 Things, etc.),

House cleaners, professional organizer, etc.

Clear bins,

An ability to toggle visibility

Category 6: Cognitive Flexibility

Transition time,

Pre-change warnings,

External support for identifying and reminding the new direction,

Context-based exemplars of similar change,

Visual schedules,

Reminders of when structure will start again

I've listed a lot of things here, but there are just so, so, so many more options.

Executive function supports can be ways that we think or approach situations (internal) or structures imposed on us by others (external). They can be physical tools that we can touch and interact with (tangible) or completely abstract ideas or approaches (intangible)

The big takeaways are that executive function supports can be any tool, structure, or communication that supports any of our executive functions.

Executive functioning struggles are core to the ADHD and autistic experiences (and secondary to other ND conditions). This means executive functioning takes a lot of energy for ADHD and/or autistic people, and the more support we have the more energy we can use for other things

So, yeah, planners, checklists, and reminders are definitely executive function supports, but so is a highschool bell schedule, hobby-related groups, professional services, and colleagues (consensually) harassing you to remember to send that email.

There are a lot of options!

#adhd #executive function #executive functioning #coping #coping strategies #autism #task initiation #decision paralysis #actually autistic #neurodivergent #mental health #executive dysfunction

[tyirsims]

'The Best Seat in the House' Sofa Suite

A sofa, loveseat and extra-wide armchair, plus a refurbished EA armchair

So I've looked in the game, and did you know that across the SIXTY FIVE packs currently available for The Sims™ 4, there are, in my opinion, only EIGHT* sofas that look both: moderately comfortable, and modest aesthetically. Of those eight, only two come with a matching loveseat and armchair. When I saw 'The Best Seat in the House' in EA's newest Basement Treasures kit, I was overcome with a sense of urgency. We can have a ninth comfy, modest-looking sofa set. And here it is! I've cleaned up the textures, and doubled and tripled that original armchair to present to you all, now, a sofa set. I'm a little emo because it looks pretty much identical to the sofa I am sat on right now, and I can confirm that I am VERY comfortable right now. Anyway more pics and D/L link below!!

Download: SFS (no adfly)

Base game compatible

30 swatches - including the 8 original scratched-up textures, 4 matching cleaned up textures and 18 EAxis colours that match the base game palette (pictures below)

4 items: 3-seat sofa, 2-seat loveseat and an extra-wide armchair (these have the 30 swatches noted above) plus the original armchair "refurbished" (with only the 22 new swatches)

The extra-wide armchair is a mesh edit of the original armchair to be a bit wider so it matches the sofa and loveseat a bit better (comparison picture below)

All LODs and Shadow LODs done as well

Also merged everything together if you just want click download once

ummmm do u guys wanna see pictures? cuz here are some pictures 😁

Here are the 30 swatches:

Front and back of sofa:

Front and back of loveseat:

Front and back, and comparison of, the refurbished armchair and the extra-wide armchair (the extra-wide one is the....... wider one..... on the right........ then on the left.......)

Oh also here's a comparison of my refurbished textures (on the left) next to the scratched textures (on the right) (this is the extra-wide armchair)

And here's the preview pic without any editing or anything:

(*List of sofas I'm talking about for the curious):

BG - Squarely There Modern Sofa (BG) (full set #1)

BG - The Hipster Hugger (unlockable)

C&D - Could Use More Pillows (only a few swatches aren't ugly tho)

CoL - Knock Around Couch

HSY - Perfectly Plush Couch

DHD - A Couch Evolved: A Sectional Sofa

PS - Violetta Von Victoria's Loyal Sofa

DLK - Prime Luxe Plush Sofa

#s4cc #s4mm #s4 basement treasures #maxis match #ts4cc #ts4 #sims 4 #download #i am once again asking what first 5 tags i should be using to get maximum exposure

[feelbokkie]

I am Anti-Romantic, but oh man those little efforts

☀️Feelbokkie M.list☀️

genre: non!idol au, fluff

pov: 2nd person

description: Another year, another Valentine's Day where you can't have a box of chocolate. Or, so you think.

pairing: best friend!minho x gn!reader

warnings: reader has a nut allergy, swearing, mention of food

word count: 2,074

a/n: happy valentine's day (it's still v-day somewhere)

©feelbokkie (2024) — all rights reserved. reposting/modification of any kind is not tolerated.

“If you’re hinting at me to buy that for you, just ask,” Minho says suddenly, walking up behind you.

In your hands is a heart-shaped box of chocolate. Like you do every Valentine’s Day, you scanned the ingredients list on the back, hoping to find a safe box to no avail. You let out a quiet groan as you put the box back.

“Or you can buy it yourself since you’re independent and all that.” He suggests.

You turn to your best friend, and roommate, giving him a frustrated look. You can’t help the pout that appears on your face as your lower lip juts out. You don’t even realize you don’t even realize you’re pouting until Minho boops your lower lip.

“You look pitiful right now. How do I make it stop? Do you want me to ask you to be my Valentine or something? Take you out on a date? Help you egg an exes’ house? What?” Minho makes sure to move into your line of sight.

"It's nothing. Let's finish shopping, our frozen things are defrosting." You quietly sigh as you take the shopping cart and start pushing it away from all of the Valentine's candy.

Plop!

Screech!

You freeze as the chocolate box you just put away is sitting on top of the cart. You bite your lower lip as you slowly turn to Minho, quickly losing your patience.

"Minho--"

"What? Those aren't for you. I'm going to eat them while marathoning a new drama tonight. Maybe I'll give you one if you join me." He says nonchalantly, taking over the cart and pushing it towards the checkout.

"Number one, this is why you're single. You can't do cute, romantic things to save your life. At the very least, come back without me later and buy it." You huff, running to catch up to him. "Number two, read the back of the box,"

Minho slows the cart down and picks up the chocolate box, "What do you mean read--Oh,"

You watch as Minho's smile drops as he reads the ingredients of the chocolate box, littered with your allergies. It's the same disappointment you get every time you try to buy yourself a box of candy. If at least one piece of candy doesn't have nuts, it was made in a place that processes them, and that's too much of a risk to take for curiosity.

"No problem, I'll look for a different one." He walks back over the the wall of candy, searching through all of the boxes.

"It's no use, Min. They either have one that has a few chocolates that have nuts in them or they were made in a place that uses nuts. And all the safe ones are too small and taste like ass," You walk over to Minho to pull him away.

"You know what ass tastes like?" He smirks, still looking through the boxes.

"I will hit you in this supermarket in front of all these people," You threaten. "C'mon, let's go. The whole concept of Valentine's Day is a capitalist scam and way overrated anyway. The whole holiday is stupid. I was just curious. It's not that serious."

You tug on Minho's arm, trying to pull him away from the chocolate once again. He wiggles out of your grip and continues to look, waving you off.

"I know, I know you're all big and tough and think relationships are pointless. Now just wait a minute."

You roll your eyes, walking back to the cart and pushing it away from him. "Whatever, meet me at the checkout line when you're done doing the impossible."

About 10 minutes later, you're loading both yours and Minho's groceries on the counter when a defeated Minho walks up behind you. He silently helps you unload the cart, his face scrunched up.

I told you so. You think to yourself. You know better than to say that to his face, especially when he's deep in thought like that. The last time you let an "I told you so" slip he was insufferable for an hour purposely testing your patience and trying to dare you to say it again.

"That's so stupid," Minho mutters under his breath, his eyes trained on the road.

You look up from the receipt as you divide up the groceries so you can send him your half of the money. Your eyes scan the road, searching for whatever caused Minho to break his code of silence. Nothing. The road is quiet and everyone appears to following all of the traffic laws. For once.

"What...are you still on the chocolates? Minho, it doesn't matter, I don't care. I can get chocolate whenever I want. The fact that it's in a heart-shaped box doesn't change the flavor. And it'll be cheaper too."

"I think you do care. That's why you checked the box. Admit it, deep down behind your antiromantic exterior, you want to celebrate Valentine's Day like everyone else. That's why you were looking in the first place."

"S-shut up and take me home." You stutter, taken off guard by Minho's point.

While you have your own, valid hang-ups about Valentine's Day, he's a little bit correct. Growing up, you never got to eat most of the candy you'd bring home from class parties because of your allergies. And your exes would either get you a box of chocolate, disregarding your allergy or just get you flowers and a stuffed animal. Simple things, but you always read those situations as they didn't care enough to pay attention or they couldn't be bothered to even check. In the end, you were right, those relationships didn't last long. In a way, your allergy has become your test for relationships and so far, nobody's passed.

***

You let out a deep sigh as you flop down on the couch, exhausted more than usual after a shift at work. Not like your job doesn't drain you in general, but somehow it sucks more life out of you during the holidays. And Valentine's Day was no exception.

Too many of your coworkers spent the day bragging about what their partners got them or their plans after work. All the communal snacks in the breakroom were heart-shaped themed. Cute, but not worth the risk of possibly going into anaphylactic shock over it. You could have eaten one anyway and got to go home early. But you decided against it in the end.

"I'm going to order some food for dinner! Do you want anything?" You shout into your apartment. You know Minho's home. You saw his bag and keys by the door where he always leaves them when he's home.

You wait a few minutes, hoping to hear some sort of sign that he's awake. You've made the mistake a few times of waking him up from post-work naps, awakening his angry side. Not a fun day.

"I picked us up some dinner on my way home since I had some time to kill!" Minho finally calls out from the kitchen. "I got to go home early, there was a flood."

"Lucky bastard," You mutter under your breath, propping yourself up on your elbows. "Did you cause the flood?"

Minho walks into the living room, setting the takeout bags on the coffee table next to you.

"You couldn't prove it if I did." He smirks before disappearing back into the kitchen.

You sit up now, getting ready to eat. You pull the coffee table as close to the couch as you possibly can so that neither have to lean over too much to reach the food. You grab the remote for the TV, freezing when something catches your eye. A red heart chocolate box, a stuffed cat, and a single tulip.

When did those get there?

You're not sure if they were already there when you got home. They must have been, you just didn't register them when you walked in. You furrow your eyebrows as you try to think. You're almost certain that Minho isn't dating anyone. But still, you're not sure why any of that stuff is sitting in your apartment.

"Why do you always move the table so close to the couch?" Minho whines when he comes back with drinks.

"Did you get into a relationship in the last 24 hours?" You question, taking the drinks from Minho as he climbs over the table to the empty spot next to you.

"I'm not stupid enough to start a relationship the day before a couple holiday. That's something Hyunjin or Jisung would do." He chuckles, taking the remote from the table.

"Then what's this?" You point to the mysterious gift on the table.

"It's for you," He says casually, turning on the TV.

"Me?" You point to yourself in confusion. "From who? A secret admirer?"

"From me, dumbass. Secret admirer...your delusional ass has been spending too much time with Chan hyung." He pulls up the show that you two were watching together last night after dinner.

You stare at the surprise Valentine's gift for a moment, confused. And a little guilty. You did nothing but bring Minho a cup of coffee before you went to work. But you didn't do that because of Valentine's Day, you did that because you wanted to.

You pick up the box and gently flip it over, ready to read the ingredients. Only, the back of the red velvet box is blank.

"Where's the ingredient list?" You question opening the box to at least find the flavor guide only to find the box full of little round chocolates.

"There isn't one," He takes a sip of his drink before unpacking the food.

"Then how am I supposed to know--"

"Don't worry about that," He lays out your utensils in front of you. "I made them so I know they're fine."

You freeze, replaying Minho's words in your head. He made you chocolate? A heart-shaped box of chocolate? With his own two hands? He did? Lee Minho? Your best friend.

"What?" He laughs when he sees the awestruck look on your face, "Y/n, it's no big deal?"

"No big deal? Are you fucking Willy Wonka! What do you mean you made me a box of chocolates?" You ask quickly, slurring your words in excitement.

"Ah, calm down. It was nothing."

You stare at your best friend for a minute, really stare at him. He's wearing one of his old black shirts and a pair of dark grey sweatpants. Both are covered with various, small stains. His bangs are clipped to the top of his, out of his eyes. If you didn't know any better, you would think that he didn't even go to work. That he stayed home, working on the chocolates for you. You know for a fact that he downplays everything, making it seem like everything is easy for him, even if they were really difficult.

"Eat your food and stop gawking at m--Why are you crying?" Minho pauses, his eyes soften as he looks at you. You didn't even know you were crying until Minho pointed it out. Your emotions betraying you as usual.

"Because that's the nicest thing anyone's done for me." You sniffle, still holding onto the box of chocolates.

"Not my fault you date losers." He laughs to himself.

"I'm serious. You...you just...Minho, what the hell??"

"You're welcome, now eat."

Minho's face is as red as the chocolate box as you continue to quietly sniffle and cry. Nobody's made this much trouble for you ever. They treated your allergy as an inconvenience rather than trying to accommodate you. Including your parents.

You sniffle, putting the chocolate box back on the table before finally digging into your food. A smile as wide as the Grand Canyon spreads across your face.

"Don't smile like that, it's unsettling."

"I'm happy, Minho."

"I know, that's what's unsettling."

"Thank you," You say softly.

"You're welcome, now shut up and eat. Sitting here crying over a box of chocolates."

"Careful, Min. People are going to start thinking you're in love with me or something," You tease, taking a sip of your drink.

"So? What if I am?"

The soda goes down the wrong pipe, causing you to choke on it. You're sputtering for air as Minho slaps your back.

"Jesus, I was teasing you back. What is wrong with you?"

"D-don't do that!"

"Where's the fun in that?" He smirks, his hand resting on your back.

—

Buy me a coffee?

—

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[nicolesainz]

kiss kiss bang bang (SV5) - part 2 from “Tricks and champions”

Sebastian Vettel x f!reader

Author’s note: Thanks to the lovely comments I received from @maverick-mwah the seb one shot will have a second part. I dearly appreciate the love you showed for this fic!

Warnings: smut, minors dni, 18+, age gap, hints of fluff, major daddy issues, aftercare, taking her virginity, its pure porn!

Summary: After the wild ride you had with Seb, the visits at your house don't stop. Especially when your parents aren't home either. This leads Seb to control you since vulnerability has taken over.

My parents decided to fly away to Spain for the week in order to celebrate their anniversary. It's very sweet that my father still deeply cares about mum after all these years of marriage. That's how all couples should be.

People my age, having an empty house like mine, would definitely use it in order to invite friends and party until very early the next morning. Or get fully wasted with a mix of drinks. Which was my original plan. And yet, I don't really regret how things turned out.

The first night being alone sled by lonely and boring. I ordered some food and had a marathon of The Office, followed by a small concert with all of Taylor Swift's songs. In an empty house, almost in the middle of nowhere in Germany, activities are limited. Or so I thought.

"You need to come to the party. Don't be a buzzkill now." My best friend said over the phone as I was cleaning the mess of a room I have. I usually am up for any available party but I just wasn't in the mood. I would rather drink my feelings away than dress up in uncomfortable heels.

"Sorry bae, not in the mood. Plus, I am feeling a bit unwell. Probably was the Chinese food I had last night." This was a lie, obviously. I was perfectly fine, plainly bored.

"Do you want me to come over? Do you need any help girl?" There's an apparent worry in her voice, which I am trying to dodge very quickly.

"Thank you lovely but I will be alright. Go have fun and text me if anything occurs." I reassure her genuinely touched with her worry.

"I will but if you need me for anything I will rush to you. Take care y/n." We exchange our goodbyes and hang up.

It's a very gloomy day and the house is very quiet. Going to this party was probably my only chance to hook up with someone just to remove Sebastian from my thoughts. Which has become impossible after the ride we had two weeks ago.

After the tricks in the circuit, wherever I look, he is there. Either in real life or in my imagination. I imagine him inside the shower with me, in between my thighs, on my bed.

Literally fucking everywhere.

Last week, at the annual Sunday dinner my family hosts with Sebastian, he was caressing my thigh under the table, as he was casually chatting with my father. It was probably a bad idea to wear that short skirt.

I decide to take matters into my own hands and fully clear out my bed, lay a towel, light up some vanilla scented candles and finish the job by myself so I can take off the thought of Sebastian from my mind.

I put on a complication of his 'dirtiest' team radios where he curses every time either in English or German, dropping sexual hints while he is frustrated.

I plug in my AirPods and put the video on replay until I manage to finish. I put some lube on my fingers and start rubbing it against my pussy. The moment Seb's voice echoes inside my ears, I feel a wave of pleasure taking over me, as slight groans come out of my mouth.

Along with Sebastian's voice, I moan some 'fuck'' and 'shit' as I slide and pump my fingers inside my wet self in a faster pace. My womanhood clenches around my fingers although the desperation in my voice shows how needy I am of Sebastian.

"Jesus Seb." I let out during the thought that my fingers are Sebastian's, pushing me to my limits.

I open my eyes slightly only to be met with a blurry figure of a blonde haired man. I was so obsessed with Sebastian that I was hallucinating.

And yet I wasn't.

He was indeed in the room.

Watching me masturbate with the help of his voice.

I panicked instantly and pulled the covers on top of my body, trying to hide from the feeling of embarrassment and Sebastian's gawking eyes that were scanning me from head to toe.

"So when the cats are away, the mice come out and play. Or in your case, simply come." He jokes around with a massive smirk plastered on his face.

"I-it's not what it looks like, I was, uh" I didn't know how to excuse my actions.

"And yet it so is what it looks like." He rolls his eyes but immediately looks back at me, licking his lips.

"Okay fine, you caught me in a vulnerable moment. I have needs but no boyfriend to satisfy me. I would've gone to a party just to release my frustration but better safe than sorry." I don't know why I said all those things to Sebastian but for some reason I open up to him more easily.

Literally and figuratively.

"So it was very difficult for you to think of me, right?" He exclaims but quickly silences himself as the audio from my phone hasn't paused and the cursing is loud and clear.

He looks around the room to see from where this sound is coming from and when he notices I am trying to mute my phone, he grabs it from my hands and takes a lot at the content amused.

"So you were thinking of me. Just not calling me but simply replacing me."

Sebastian kneeled down to my height and removed the covers from my legs. My panties were still wrapped around my thighs and small hints of wetness were apparent. No shame took over me. Which was oddly weird.

"You know I am here for you if you ever need me, baby. For anything." He positions my body right in front of his face, looking me deeply into my eyes with such innocence, yet I knew that none of his following actions were gonna be the same.

"It's not right Sebastian. You're twice my age and a friend of my father's. You are a person I admire, not someone I should be thinking of in that way." That was the moment where I felt truly ashamed of myself but with a few words, Sebastian made me feel like what was going to happen between us is the most right thing in the world.

"Admiring someone doesn't necessarily mean you can't love them or want them in any other way. I know the kind of girl you are, Y/n. You've literally confessed to me your entire love life, pleading for a man that will treat you right and be there for you."

I didn't know if I wanted to cry or smile at his words. I was right there in front of him, spread legs and needy of a mans touch. He barely looked down at my womanhood or removed his eyes from mine. I needed a man who could bring the best of both worlds.

He was right in front of me.

"I need you Seb. Madly. I can't get you out of my head. Help me." I cooed softly, my desperation is clearly showing more than it should.

"All I will ask is, are you willing to let me take care of your need 100% dear? Because there is no going back after that." The fact that he asked me for reassurance and didn't throw himself at me the moment I begged him, proved to me that no man can be like Sebastian.

"I trust you blindly." I put my forehead softly against his and he instantly captures my lips into a soft kiss, full of reassurance, trust and emotion. His hands are on the sides of my thighs, holding against them firmly and climbing on top of my body feeling more of his warmth.

Sebastian's piercing blue eyes focus on the rhythm of my breathing that is being patterned on the mannerism the way by breasts bounce up and down. I can feel myself blushing given that no matter how many men have looked this tensely at me, only he can cause butterflies to my stomach.

With one arm, he removes his t-shirt, revealing a very well fitted 36 year old on whose body I want to lay my hands on and worship like he is a greek god. I softly trace the V-line on top of his belt and the kiss becomes even more tense with a simple touch.

"You don't know what you're doing to me." He mumbles against my lips as he is trying to unbuckle his belt and get rid of the trousers that are hiding from my sight the hardened erection I caused.

"Then show me." I so easily say, yet I don't know the mix of pain and pleasure I am about to experience because of my actions. Sebastian grunts and with my help, his trousers are on the floor and I can feel against my wet unclothed pussy his erected cock.

Sebastian breaks the kiss and stands up, in the process of which he is picking me up as well. My breathing becomes harder as he takes my top off and now we are semi naked in front of each other. Only a few barriers which in a few seconds are gone. I strap off my bra slowly, revealing my breast to his sight.

"You are beautiful. Absolutely mesmerising. My god" he sighs and kneels in front of me. I am absolutely shocked by what he is doing. I feel his hands holding firmly my thighs and in matters of seconds his lips on my pussy, eating me up like a starved man. His tongue flicking against my clit, sending euphoric vibration at my entire body.

"Fuck, Seb" I moan uncontrollably as he keeps feasting on the juices that are covering my womanhood and his jaw. My fingers tangle on his blonde curls, pulling them slightly as I am trying with all my willpower not to crush his face with my trembling thighs.

My head falls back and my moans become louder and louder as Sebastian slowly removes his his mouth from my pussy and slams it against mine, while inserting his index and middle finger inside my wetness.

"So innocent and yet you're clenching around my fingers like a needy whore." His fingers are pumping inside me in quite a fast pace but just the perfect one to send me into fucking oblivion. My fingers are scratching his back like a wild animal.

"I need to cum, Seb, please." I have never begged anyone for anything in my life and yet, another first time of mine had just been ticked off the box with the help of Sebastian. He applies a bit more pressure to my very swollen pussy, by using his thumb to play along with my clit.

"Then do so baby. All over my fingers." The moment he says it, I release immediately along with a tense groan from both of us. God that felt amazing. Sebastian grabs me back, laying me on the bed, knees weaker than wooden sticks but surely needy for more.

"I need you to be fully sure of what is about to happen darling. Allow me?" My heart drops to my stomach with his words. A few minutes ago he was fucking me with his fingers with such ease and now he is asking for permission.

Best of both worlds.

"There is no man on this earth I trust more than you, Seb. Yes, I am fully aware." I reply with a kind smile on my face, reassuring him that he is the only man I need and want.

His lips connect with mine once more, although this time the kiss was more meaningful than anything. It was me showing Sebastian that I trust him with something so sacred and fragile but something I would only want him to have.

His fingers are toying with my nipples while his mouth is occupied with my neck, trying to leave as many hickies humanly possible. I do not mind at all, though I will need many formulas of makeup to hide his mess.

"Can I touch you?" I quietly ask him as he still was wearing his underwear that were trying to hold on his frustrated cock. I was so afraid of asking him such a thing even though it wouldn't be my first time touching a man.

"Your touch is what I am craving." He grabs my hand and places it on top of his edged bulge that wants to be taken care of. Having his confirmation, I remove the barrier, the boxers, in swift movements, with his cock springing out.

I wrap my hands around his erection, feeling the hints of pre cum on the tip, I spread the minimum liquid all over, pumping him slowly and teasingly sliding him through my wet folds, causing him to moan on the crook of my neck.

"Jesus baby. I need you." He blurts out and my excitement reaches extremely high levels. When I feel Seb's body lowering on me, I remove my hands from his cock and hold on against his butt. In very slow movements, Sebastian slides himself inside me, as softly as he can, whilst I am trying to adjust to his size.

Sebastian has filled me up entirely and my pussy has been stretched to its limits. He tried to play safe at first with slow trusts that would help him find my sweet spot. Tears of exhaustion and pleasure were covering my eyes.

Suddenly, he picks up the pace, thrusting harder into me, pushing my limits to the maximum and earning multiple moans of his name along the way. The room smells sex. The air smells sex. He and I smell like sex.

"Oh my Seb." I moan as if there is no tomorrow, shamelessly, giving him the satisfaction of achieving to make the first time of a woman better than half of the female's population. Not even better. Heavenly good.

"This is for you. All for you my good girl."

#sebastian vettel smut #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel fanfic #sebastian vettel #sebastian vettel x you

[notlhecxzsa]

Accidents II - S.J

Hiii, this is a very very sensitive fic and everything is not a real happenstance. Hope you enjoy!

WARNING ⚠️: Forced sex, super mean drunk Scarlett, physical abused, mental abused, hurt reader.

~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~

3rd Person's POV:

Scarlett woke up groggily, her head pounding with the ache of a hungover. Memories of last night seems to have ran away from her mind, all she could think of is how to wash away the alcohol in her system, externally and internally.

Blinking away the brightness that continuesly seeping through the thick curtains, she thought about how she would take a shower first and then having a very much needed hot coffee along with some painkillers.

Her body still felt slightly high because of the substances she took from last night, but then again, last night was completely forgotten.

Curiosity filled her when she realized that she slept in the guest room.

What the hell happened last night? She thought. Wishing, that she didn't slept in the guest room last night because you told her so, a possible result from one of her stupid doings when she's drunk.

Speaking of which, where are you right now? Maybe still sleeping, as far as she remembered you did took a shot or two before she demanded for you to drink only some of the fruit cocktails so you wouldn't be that drunk, because she fully knows well how light you are.

Taking some minutes for herself to take in everything, before sitting up, without looking back, she was quick to make her way towards the bedroom you shared, expecting for you to be still in your dream land, but she was met by a neat bed, without any signs of being used.

The 2 black cards she forgot yesterday was still laying on where she had left it.

Frowning, she continue to move around thinking that maybe, you did slept her and just cleaned everything up immediately, like you usually do and maybe, you just slept on the side of your bed peacefully without moving her side.

After she took a very much needed shower, thinking of everything she have and want to do today with her work and with you. So far, she wasn't busy, so she took it as a chance to spend the whole day with you.

She went downstairs expecting to see you there, to hear the music that you would play in the morning as you dance around the kitchen while cooking the most delicious breakfast, but, instead, she was met by silence.

"Y/n? Baby? Darling?" She called and called as she wandered around the house, in every corner where she thinks she could possible find you.

But, same things happened. You were nowhere to be found, which makes her frown.

Seeing that she couldn't find you and will not be able to know where you are, she decided to call you. So, she went in the sala, hoping to find her cellphone so she could call you.

But, to no avail, even her cellphone wasn't there, so she walked towards the kitchen and there she saw her phone on the floor, with Y/n's bag and the things inside it scattered around the floor.

Worry rush through her veins, and before she could even make a move, someone called her name.

"Scarlett, did you not heard me? Gosh, I was almost already screaming outside." There goes her manager, Lucy.

"Hey, do you know where's Y/n?" Lucy stopped in her tracks, the greeting is not what she expected. A hi or hello would be enough.

"No...? Why? Aren't you with her?- Oh,  and by the way, how was she? Last night was a complete fucked up mess." Scarlett could only throw a very confused face to Lucy as her manager rummage through her fridge.

"What?" Scarlett asked.

"I saw how she was so shaken up- oh, and you!..." Lucy stood up from her crouching position and turned to point a finger on Scarlett, now completely forgetting what she was trying to find. "Why did you dragged her like that? God, I saw how you almost ripped her arm. I hope you know by now that, that man was harassing her." Lucy once again, started rummaging through the fridge.

"Wait, wait, wait..." Scarlett stood up and ran towards Lucy and almost forcefully turned the older woman towards her. "What the fuck happened last night?"

~~~~~~~~~~

"Fuck, Lucy, I need to find her, right now. Can you please go around the house and help me find her? I'll just try to call her." Scarlett said before she began to wander around the house, checking the guest room on the first floor, while Lucy began to check the 2nd.

To no avail, Scarlett didn't saw Y/n, even a silhouette, as soon as she stopped in the middle of the living room, phone in her hand, typing away so many text for Y/n, a bloodcurdling scream was leashed out throughout her house.

Snapping her head up upstairs, her legs moved quickly until she was brought in front of the guest room she woke up this morning, a worried frown formed in her face when she saw Lucy standing over the end of the bed, looking down at something.

"What the fuck, Scarlett? Did you do this?" Lucy made a quick work to kneel down infront of the shaking black and white bruised body of Y/n, who is whimpering quietly as she put all her weight in between of the bed and the bedside table, naked with the comforter around her body that provides enough privacy, but not warmth.

Everything became muffled to Scarlett, the sweet comforting nothing that is coming out of Lucy's mouth was blocked out as Scarlett's blurred by tears in her eyes widened at the sight in front of her.

She saw how Y/n forced herself to be smaller in between of the furnitures, she saw the bruises littered all over her wife's black and blue body, as Y/n continuesly shaking her head that is bowed down side to side, afriad to be touched, scared to be seen, so sensitive to even move her mouth to talk.

Very traumatized.

It was a horrific sight that Scarlett felt her knees getting week, a muffled sob coming out of her mouth.

"No! Please..."

"Scarlett, please!"

"It hurts... I'm sorry... Please..."

"No, no, no- AHHH!"

"S-Scar-... Scarlett..."

Everything seemes to hit her like a massive truck, as she finally got everything settle inside her.

"No!" Y/n's shaking voice boomed weakly throughout the room, and Lucy looked back up at Scarlett with tears in her eyes threatening to spill.

Everybody loves the girlfriend of the actress, god, she was a ball of sunshine, has a smile that could light up the room. She was everything that everyone could ask for. She was so loveable, a fragile thing that no one would ever attempt to hurt her even verbally.

God, it broke Lucy's heart to see one of her dear friend like this. Y/n's like a little sister to her.

"Did you do this?" Lucy already knew, deep inside, she already knew, with how drunk Scarlett was last night, how she held Y/n around like she was weightless.

Scarlett came forward crouching down in front of her girl carefully, hands shaking as she ignored the question.

"I-..." Her own sob choked her up, her own words crumbles down on her throat as she took in your sight.

"Bab-..." She whimpered, as if she was feeling how hurt you are right now. "I'm-... I'm so-... I'm sorry." She stumbled speaking.

They heard you whispering, which broke their heart even more.

"No..."

"Please..."

"I can't anymore..."

"It hurts..."

"Stop..."

"Help..."

"Fuck, Scarlett." Lucy whispered, holding back a huge sob.

She can't believe it.

She can't believe anything that's in front of her.

Scarlett hurting Y/n would be a fever dream, she knew the actress could never ever, ever do that. Not in a million or billion of years.

Scarlett doesn't even let anyone touch her girl in such way.

God, even just looking at Y/n in a wrong way could build up so much anger inside of Scarlett, and a war would appear.

But...

This?...

It can't be true, does it?

"Fuck, Scarlett." Her voice is much more louder this time, tears started spilling out as she looked at Scarlett with so much hatred and disappointment, Scarlett only looked down at Y/n as if her whole world is crumbling down.

But, that seems to snap something out of Scarlett, everything was too much. So so much. God, she hurt the one best thing that has ever happened to her.

She hurt you.

"I know! God. Fuck, I know, Lucy." With that, broken sobs came out.

With that, Y/n's body moved, her voice became louder as she started to plead.

"No! Please. No, I can't anymore. Please, stop! I'll- I'll be good, I promise, please, d-don't." In each and every words that came out of Y/n's mouth, was like a sharpened knife slowly digging its way inside of Scarlett's heart.

"Hey, I'm sorry, I- I won't- I won't hurt you-" Scarlett started to reach out, and Y/n saw it that made her eyes wide, automatically, she forced herself to stand up out of fear, making both of the older woman in front of her to stand up too.

Wrong move, because as soon as Y/n stood up, her throat tightened, even though she was gripping the comforter in her hands to continue to cover up her body she now felt more showed off.

Her weakened knees started buckling, her vision blurring as she started to feel so light headed while words of pleas continuesly coming out of her mouth without any stop.

Her breathing became much more ragged, and they can see her situation.

But, she leaned towards Lucy, holding onto the woman with her dear life, as the woman hold her the same, as Scarlett took steps forward to also hold her girl, but Y/n only started to pushed herself more towards Lucy as if it was even possible.

"Y/n, angel..."

"Oh, sweet girl."

"D-don't touch me, please..." It was faint. "Get-... Out of here... Want out... Away... Please..." Now, it was only a mumble.

Both of their heart stopped when Y/n fell down, thankfully both of the woman caught her just in time.

They were still in shock, doesn't know what to do, or what to say.

But, they know that Y/n need them more than anything.

I can't say the same thing to Scarlett.

And, she knew that Y/n would need everyone but her.

And, that just broke her heart even more.

#lhecxzsa #natasha marvel #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x little!reader #natasha romanoff x reader #scarlett johansson x you #scarlett johansson imagine #scarlett johansson fanfic #scarlett johansson smut #scarlett johansson x reader

[konekoling]

Hi hello since the states are gonna get blasted with cold soon I figured I'd shave some Helpful Cold Survival Advice I've absorbed as someone who lives in an area that hits -50C/-58F temperatures periodically

-Starting with a somewhat obvious one, but HOLY SHIT DO NOT BRING BARBECUES, GENERATORS, OR ANY OTHER FORM OF OUTDOOR HEAT SOURCE INSIDE FOR WARMTH. CO poisoning WILL kill you if you don't accidentally start a fire in the process.

-If you wanna stay in your car and turn the heat up for warmth DO NOT do it in the garage. Again. CO poisoning.

-You can turn up your stove/ oven and crack the oven door open in an emergency if you have zero other heat sources available, but only if its electric (Gas stoves will generate carbon mono...yeah you get it already), and even then its going to be much less energy efficient than a normal space heater, and you're gonna want to stay nearby while it's on to make sure you don't start a fire.

-Don't plug a space heater into a power bar or extention cord unless you're 100% sure it has a high quality cord. They need an absurd amount of power to run, and most extention cords in particular aren't insulated enough to handle those levels of power without becoming a fire hazard. And for the love of God, don't run multiple heaters on one power bar.

-Candles don't actually do much to generate heat unless you're ina very small area, but they ARE an excellent light source should power go out

- tragically, the best way to keep warm in the absence of home heating is through boring ol layering, especially on your feet and head. Avoid jeans, as they're somehow terrible at heat retention despite how thick they are, and throw on a pair of long underwear/leggings if you have some. Also feel free to pile as many blankets as you own on top of yourself, you deserve it.

-Youre gonna want to stay well fed, too. Keeping your body temperature up in the cold is pretty calorically demanding, AND the digestive process tends to heat your body up as well. Its a win/win.

-Also unfortunate: another excellent way to stay warm is through your enemy and mine, physical activity. Every half hour or so, pace around your living space to get the ol blood pumping a bit.

-If you get wet outside while it's substantially cold out, get inside as soon as possible bc that WILL suck the heat from your body. This goes for sweat too, so layer responsibly if you're out shoveling

-Electric blankets are a scam, don't buy them.

-heating pads and heated mattress covers are less of a scam, but don't fall asleep with them on bc once again, fire hazard.

-If you have any faucets in your house that don't see a lot of use/you live somewhere that doesn't usually see cold weather, keep all your faucets on just a bit so your pipes don't freeze and/or explode. This WILL cost thousands of dollars to fix.

-Likewise, if you're traveling for the holidays see if you can have someone come by to turn the faucets on every day or two so you don't come home to find your house sunk into the ground

-ALSO if you're traveling and think "hm, I think I'll turn off the heat while I'm out to save some money that is the devil speaking, do NOT listen. (Heating helps keep the pipes warm and unfrozen)

-Fill your bathtub up with water and/or stock up on bottled water if you're gonna be getting unusually cold temperatures in case your pipes DO freeze, since you're probably not gonna want to hit up the store should this occur

-Stay off the roads if you can help it. Turbocold weather makes cars periodically fail to start, and also the second snow touches the ground people somehow forget how to drive.

-IMO If it's below -38C before windchill, you have a substantial commute, and you have any PTO/can afford to miss a shift at work, don't bother going in. Just lie and say your car wouldn't start.

-If you absolutely need to go to work/go out for whatever reason, take public transit if possible. If thats not possible, keep some blankets, food, candles, and a lighter in your car in case the battery dies on the road so you can stay toasty and Alive until help arrives.

Probably gonna add more as I remember it, but thems the basics! Stay warm!

[definitelynotshouting]

Idk if this is Hunger AU canon or my own personal fanon but

one of the "calling cards" that the Watchers used in Evo was bedrock

bedrock is unbreakable by a player

perfect for trapping the player you're using as a Watcher incubator

and the texture looks rough af

when you get desperate you often try to do stuff to escape even if it's impossible, right

so what I'm saying is

probably one of the last things player!Grian did was tearing his hands to shreds trying to break bedrock out of sheer desperation

which makes all the passages in your fic where he's staring at his hands even more *gestures vaguely*

(idk why I typed this out in this format but it felt right so I'm going with it)

MAN OKAY THIS IS SUPER COOL i especially adore how youve connected it with the way i keep having Grian stare at his own hands???? which ftr is smth ive only just now realized i do all the time AKDBWKDJKSSJ this is JUST like the scarian jaw kisses thing HELPPPP 💥💥💥💥💥💥💥😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 but thats such a cool thought!!! And utterly angsty i love it >:]

Its also made me realize i dont think ive ever actually told yall what did happen during that interim where Grian was captive as a Player before he died and became a Watcher, so buckle in i guess as i try to explain this one to yall (obligatory cws for captivity, parasitism, violated autonomy, body horror, and major character death discussion)

Yknow the world borders the life series has?? It was like that, but tiny. Maybe a couple chunks' worth of space to move around in. He spawned into a savannah biome and the Watchers specifically in charge of keeping an eye on him (pun intended) penned him in with the borders, implanted the specially-coded larva, and then retreated back just outside the server's barrier code to, well. To Watch.

So post Evo dragon fight the Watchers convinced Grian to join them without telling him what that entailed. They then proceeded to whisk him away to the server cluster's dev crystal, which is where the remnants of this Watcher colony made their semi-permanent home. There, held together basically only by the Watchers' ability to manipulate code, they had Grian make a brand new server.... and immediately trapped him in it.

He spent a year there slowly dying, eaten from the inside out by a parasite that was collecting his memories, copying over his stats and personality, with very limited space and resources to get by with. I know he built a tiny house out of acacia, but it never got any bigger than a starter base. He lived off of mostly bread and the meat from a few animals that spawned in with him; he primarily used stone tools, because those were what was most readily available. It was a very terrifying and lonely year, where all access to the outside world was cut off, and he was meticulously watched over to keep from dying while the larva inside him continued to grow and destroy him.

The Watchers were mostly hands-off in terms of interaction, but they did do regular check-ins to ensure the larva was alive and that there was no danger present to its host. Hostile mobs were carefully warded off, and Grian spent most of his time alternating between begging them to let him go (they never responded), trying to figure out ways to escape (it never worked), and tending to baseless chores just to keep from going out of his mind as his body grew weaker and weaker and more unstable around him.

I have a lot of feelings about this tbh, bc its just such a bleak scenario to think about-- trapped in a tiny cage with something killing you from the inside out, and your captors wont even talk to you about it properly. Being left otherwise to your own devices, with the terrible, lingering knowledge that, even if it was under duress, you still agreed to this. The fact that, after a certain point, after your questions and pleas are summarily ignored and brushed aside, you finally realize: you aren't meant to survive this. You are going to die.

A juvenile Watcher's first meal are the emotions during their host's last few moments. Grian was no exception; he cracked his way out of his own ribcage, and, without meaning to, amplified and feasted on Player!Grian's agony and terror as he died. With their memory codes finally disconnected, Grian had to watch himself through the eyes of a stranger as his terrified consciousness dissolved and his body fell apart into nothing more than loose strings of code.

Only then, still weak and flailing and helpless, was he was brought into the colony proper, in order to teach him how to be a Watcher. It wouldnt be for another few years before Grian gained the strength, control, and insight required to make his desperate escape. In total, i wanna say he spent somewhere between.... 4-6 years??? with the colony against his will. It would take another 4 for him to finally scrape together the courage to contact Mumbo and finally ask him for an invite into the Hermitcraft proper

One of these days i do plan to write that reunion, actually, which i'll add to the series as another prequel just like all the words that i forgot to say, which takes place roughly 6-8 months after Grian finally joins Hermitcraft. And if yall want to read an absolutely fantastic fic that deals with the moment Watcher!Grian was born and Player!Grian died, you should absolutely check out my friend @raichett 's fic Divergency, which ive pretty much canonized bc it REALLY hits the nail on the head for that situation.

Okay this got a lot longer than i meant it to sidhskdjej also those timeframes are a little squiggly bc i havent fully settled on where they fall on the general timeline. I wanna say Grian had been a Watcher for abt a decade by the time Mumbo got him onto Hermitcraft, though, so thats the loose timeline im working off of when i talk abt this :] anyway thanks for giving me an excuse to write this all out!!! while your idea about the bedrock isnt necessarily canon, i absolutely ADORE it and can totally see Grian just tearing up his hands while scrabbling against the world border.... utterly heartbreaking we fucking LOVE to see it. Thanks for sending in your ask!!! I always love seeing what you have to say about hunger au!!! :DDD

#shouting speaks #asks #hunger au #grian #watcher grian #evo watchers #UHM. LORE AHOY???? ITS A DARK ONE THO GUYS IM NGL #txt

[randomshyperson]

Wanda Maximoff x Reader - Pure Heroine Series Part Four - 400 lux

Summary: You and Wanda have been friends for years, but now, you're grown up. Nothing stays as it was. | Album Inspired series "Pure Heroine" by Lorde.

Warnings: Mutual Pining, friends to lovers, fluff, some typical trope angst, high school to college, making out, drinking, substance abuse, fighting, implied compulsory heterosexuality | Words: 1.950k

General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad | Pure Heroine Collection |

-&-

She's doing it again.

Wanda hates everything about it. The loud music, the sweaty, clinging bodies that prevent her from moving around calmly, the smell of alcohol and sex, and most of all, the lack of you.

She knew that her new choices would cost her your presence, but your absence also came with the numbing of all those unwanted feelings, and it was easier not to think about them with the help of beers or any other substance they offered her.

It was stupid and dangerous, and Wanda hated it. But again, the hangover didn't hurt as much as knowing that she had ruined everything with the person who mattered most to her.

This time, at least, it was a Saturday. It was the fifth party in the last three weeks that she had attended, and Wanda was almost surprised at how far she had gone this time. Her body trembled and broke out in a cold sweat, the taste of the colored pills that the third-year boys shared with her for free with the intention of getting her into bed still fresh on her tongue. Maybe Wanda would go with them this time; there were few times when casual sex, especially with some drunken young adult, really satisfied her, but it was better than no sex at all and nights and nights staring at the empty bed of her roommate with whom she wouldn't exchange more than four sentences for weeks. And counting.

Whatever she used, she had to admit that this time she had gone a little too far. And Pietro wasn't at the party, the so responsible athlete and future Olympic medalist, nor were her new friends, who had already found beds to sleep in for the night.

Her head spinning, she tried Monica's number, but to no avail. Then Natasha answered on the third ring, but it wasn't good news.

"I'm spending the weekend with my parents, Wanda. I told you that."

Well, fuck that, she probably did. Wanda doesn't remember, not now anyway, her head spinning like her stomach.

"Oh, yeah, shit, it's true." She mutters, her own intoxication showing in her voice. "Thanks anyway, Nat."

But the redhead spoke before she could hang up. "Why don't you call her? I'm sure she'd help-"

"I can't." Wanda cuts off, because now her eyes are full of tears, and the substances don't help to take the feeling out of focus. "I just can't. Good night, Nat."

"But, Wanda-"

She hangs up the phone and bends over to throw up in the bushes at the entrance to the frat house. The party continues uninterrupted, indifferent to her condition.

Wanda doesn't know how much time has passed before she hears chuckles behind her.

"Hey, baby, do you need any help in there?" The male voice sends a chill down her spine. She wipes her mouth, trying to balance herself against the wall. The man approaches, and his hands help her around the waist. 

"Don't touch me." She protests, pushing his hands away, and although he moves aside, he does so grinning.

She can't quite focus on his face, but she thinks she recognizes him from the team. "Relax, girl. Hey, I know you... You're Wanda, aren't you? I'm on your brother's team, I can take you to him."

It's the trap, clearly evident in the intentions hidden in his eyes. But Wanda is too drunk and nods. The boy smiles as if he's won something, and when he offers his arm for her to lean on, Wanda accepts it as a courtesy.

"My car's around the corner, let's go this way." He leads the way, and Wanda's feet move on their own.

They turn the corner, and she loses her balance again, the nausea returning. 

Something is screaming danger in the back of her mind. "The dormitory... is on the other side." She struggles, scratching at her eyes. The boy squeezes harder.

"Yeah, but I'm just going to get something from the car, it's quick, come on."

He starts pulling her by the waist again. Wanda doesn't even have time to be startled before he's the one who gets yanked off her this time.

It's too fast for her drunken brain to keep up: Your sudden appearance, dressed in pajamas covered by the leather jacket she bought you for your 17th birthday, the brutality with which you knock the boy to the ground and threaten him with a baseball bat with Bucky Barnes' signature on the end.

"Get out of here, asshole." You warn between teeth. The boy is so surprised and frightened that he crawls across the floor to stand up.

"What the fuck, are you insane?" He snaps in defense. "We're just talking."

But you adjust the bat in your hand as if you were going to attack him. "If you don't get out of here in the next two seconds, I’ll break your fucking arm."

He snorts angrily but takes two steps back. " Screw that, she's not even that hot."

He runs away, and when you turn to her again, Wanda wants to throw up for another reason.

"Hey, are you okay?" Wanda doesn't deserve the kindness and concern in your gaze. She doesn't deserve to be helped to her feet, to have her hair brushed out of her face or her cheeks caressed. "Wanda?"

Then she sobs, because it's been almost three months since she ruined everything and no amount of partying, drugs or casual sex has taken the feeling out of her chest.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry-" She cries and you sigh, hugging her for a moment. Wanda tries to control her tears, but you're stroking her hair and holding her, and she hates how much she doesn't deserve any of this. 

"Breathe, Wanda, it's okay." You try to calm her down, the baseball bat slack at your side, so that your other hand strokes the back of the girl clinging to you. "I'm taking you home, come on."

There's no resistance from her, and Wanda doesn't know it, but it's you who's nauseous with worry about her condition. Anyone could have dragged her into a corner, without any resistance, and the thought makes you grip the steering wheel tighter.

Despite the short journey from the Fraternity House to your dormitory, Wanda falls asleep on the seat. It's a bit of a struggle to wake her up and get her inside, but with some time and insistence, you manage to put her to bed.

Your room has hardly changed at all since you last looked for books here. Almost 14 weeks ago, when you argued with Wanda and she chose to pretend that your friendship was over the next day. How all attempts at conversation were ignored or aggressively denied, and how she started disappearing from classes while showing up at parties.

Darcy didn't mind sharing the apartment with you until the next room's swap application date, so that's who you're living with while Wanda pretends you were never friends.

You let her fall asleep on the bed, mumbling in her sleep, while you take your cell phone out of your pocket to reply to Natasha that you had found Wanda and that everything was fine.

There's a gentle tug on the hem of your jacket as you make a move to get out of bed.

"Don't go." Wanda asks in a hoarse sigh, and you swallow dry, hesitant. She doesn't loosen her grip. "Please. I don't wanna... be alone."

With a sigh, you nod, gently pulling your hand away just so you can take off your jacket and then your shoes. Wanda wastes no time in making room on the bed for you.

Even though you tense up immediately, she clings to you, hugging your body as if no time had passed, no quarrel had put an end to such an old friendship. She falls asleep on your chest, and you draw your initials with your fingertips on her skin until you finally falls asleep too.

When Wanda wakes up, the bed is empty. But the smell of your shampoo is everywhere on her pillow, and she gasps softly. She forces her face against it and inhales deeply, and the next sound that escapes her is less innocent.

Then the door opens, and Wanda jumps on the bed as if she had been caught.

You don't notice anything strange, distracted by the items in your hands.

"Oh, you're awake, good." You say with a small smile, approaching her bed to leave one of the cups on the nightstand. Now with a free hand, you take a carton of pills out of your pocket. "Aspirin, for the headache. And orange juice, for the hangover."

You clarify quickly and make a toast sign with your own cup, which from your habits that Wanda knows like the palm of her hand, is not too hard to deduce to be iced coffee. 

She can't even thank you - she's way too shocked that you're not a hallucination. You hesitate and understand her silence in the worst possible way. 

"Don't worry, I'm on my way. I won't get involved in your hangover or any of your business." The sad smile almost makes her choke with guilt.

You turn around, but Wanda calls out to you. "How did you find me yesterday?"

With a sigh, you retort: "Natasha called me."

"It was two in the morning."

You hesitate, shrugging. "I was awake."

But Wanda glares at you: " You were wearing pajamas." She insists, and you sigh in defeat.

" I had just got home, Wanda." You retort and look uncomfortable. You sigh and finally finish breaking her heart. "I had a date."

"Oh." And it's the only thing Wanda is able to say without crying. She clears her throat, to push the emotions away, and moves to reach for the pill and the orange juice. You stand there, shifting your feet and staring at the coffee in your hands. "Thanks for yesterday, and the juice is a kind gesture, but... I don't really need any of this. I can take care of myself."

Your sad smile returns, Wanda wants to slap herself. Maybe your stupid pretty face too.

"Right." It's your reply, laden with sarcasm, and instead of annoyance, Wanda gets angry.

" Is there anything you wanna say to me?"

You chuckle, incredulous. "Why? So you can explode at me again for no reason? Hard pass." You retort, and she clenches her jaw, watching you turn your ankles and walk away. "See you around, Maximoff."

But Wanda has replayed this scene a million times in her head. All the other times you've argued, and she's let you walk away in anger.

Nothing good came of it.

"Stay."

You hesitated on the doorknob, your trembling fingers covered by your body, not allowing her to see how affected you were.

Wanda's eyes blurred with her tears, and she sniffled softly. "Please." She insisted. "Just stay."

"Why?" And this time, you turn to her again, your gaze so confused and hurt that Wanda has to look away. "Wanda, answer me."

She sniffles. "I like it when you're around."

But you sigh impatiently. "That's not good enough, Wanda. Not after everything you've done." You retort more determinedly. "What do you want from me?"

She swallows dryly but raises her eyes again. "I want to make things right. Please. I just need a second chance to... fix it."

You sigh again, this time in defeat. You nod and touch the doorknob again.

"I'll buy our breakfast." And you offer her a small smile. "Go take a shower, you need it."

Wanda throws her pillow at you but misses it. Your giggle on your way out wakes all the butterflies in her stomach at once.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda maximoff #marvel imagines #pure heroine series

[lushlovers]

hi my love! would you possibly be interested in writing a joe blurb/one shot (whichever fits best) where the reader is alone/at home or something and gets injured and we see some fluffy, lovable panicked joe when he finds out? thank you!!

Who's Cutting Onions, J Burrow

summary; you really wanted to make him something nice but you aren't the most steady-handed...

warnings; mentions of injury with a knife, knives in general, blood, anxious and protective joe, domestic fluff!

word count; 330

note; if anything mentioned in the warnings sounds remotely triggering for you please sit this fic out, i have plenty of others coming out and already available for you to read. that aside, thank you nonnie for the request, i had loads of fun writing it for you:)

Cooking never has been your specialty, but when it comes to impression Joe in any way possible, you're quick to jump to do so, even if it meant preparing something in the kitchen. The counters were covered with the various ingredients needed to make your mom's spaghetti recipe.

Whilst your olive oil was heating in the pan, you chose to start slicing your vegetables for the sauce. Everything was going relatively smoothly until somehow your index finger got in the way. The cut was small but big enough to bleed a significant amount.

"Fuckin' shit," you instinctively shake your hand around manically, trying to soothe the stinging feeling shooting through your finger as you run in the direction of the guest bathroom. The spaghetti is long forgotten now, as your next mission is to search the cabinets for Neosporin and a band-aid.

Once located you turn the sink on and let the warm water wash away any remnants of blood on the wound and quickly follow up with some soap. As you're doing so, Joe's making his way into the house, when he passes the kitchen he sees the oil boiling on the stove and rushes to turn the burner off.

When he notices the knife and blood on the cutting board next to it, his heart skips a beat, "Baby?" he shouts, frantically looking around for you. He hears the water in the guest room running and how you yell back that you're in there, he lets out an exhale that he hadn't realized was trapped in his lungs.

"Are you okay?" He questions, obviously worried, and you want to just kiss him all over his flustered face simply for being him. He's always so protective, especially when it concerns you. "I'm alright, Joey, it was tiny," you smile, stepping up on your toes to kiss his cheek, and using your bandaged finger to pull his lower lip from between his teeth to prevent his nervous gnawing at it.

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow x you #joe burrow fic #joe burrow smut #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow blurb #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow fluff #nfl #nfl fan fic

[ackermanslov4r]

the 5 love languages

how dazai would express each of the love language

WORDS OF AFFIRMATION

If Dazai is gifted at one thing,it’s at using his mouth (take this info however you want). He knows exactly when you need to be cheered up,and he always knows exactly what to say to make you feel better. He doesn't even say words of affirmations consciously , it's just in his nature to whisper sweet words into your ears, to compliment you,to make you feel seen and loved. It's difficult for him to talk about his own feelings and how you make him feel ; but when it comes to talking about you suddenly no one can get him to shut up. If you ever need reassurance on anything, he'll always give it to you without any problem,going on a full rant about how wonderful he finds you.

PHYSICAL TOUCH

Physical touch is most likely Dazai's n1 love language. He's like a starving man when it comes to your touch,he just can never get enough of it. If you're in the same room,he'll always make sure that he's touching you in one way or another, whether it'll be a subtle and gentle touch or just straight up him clinging to you,trying to get as much of his body in touch with yours. he loves to hold your hand,love to hold an hug,love to give small kisses on whatever part of your skin is available : he just loves to touch you. He cant' even really explain why, it's simply as if his soul yearned for yours and the only way to satisfy this yearning was to become one with your body.

ACTS OF SERVICES

I feel like Dazai would be more subtle with this one. He doesn't specifically do big helpful gestures,but he does try to help you as best as he can in your day to day life. If he knows you always take a specific breakfast,he'll make sure to bring it to you from time to time, or if you two go on a mission together than he'll do the biggest part of it.His acts of services aren't clearly noticeable ones, especially since he brushes them off as "oh it's nothing" whenever you do notice what he did (but later on if he needs something he'll bring them up and go "don't you remember what i did this morning??" to convince you to help him), but they're still nice attentions.I also feel like he'll learn how to take care of himself by trying to help you on things , because if he brings you some breakfast, well he just have to get himself some too because he knows you won't let him simply watch you eat.

.GIFT GIVING

Dazai is TERRIBLE at gifts. Not because he doesn't know what to get,in fact he ALWAYS have the perfect gift idea ; he simply finds it funnier to get you something completely stupid,completely useless, completely dazai. You could tell him clearly what you want and he would still only get you some silly objects from a drug store, like a plastic duck or a book filled with dad jokes. He always cracks himself up when he buy these gifts,and in the end he's the only one who ends up using them.

QUALITY TIME

With his job, free time is usually rare for him, so choosing to spend it with you is truly a sign of his affection. He loves to just stay inside with you,talking with each other or just watching something while being in this little bubble where it feels like you're the only person in the world. I don't think he specifically enjoy going out once he gets serious with someone, preferring one on one moments at each other's houses rather than being at a restaurant or even a park where it'll be crowded with other people. But, if you're someone who prefers to go out then he'll make sure to find new places to visit every week, because even if he has his preferences, deep down if he gets to be with you then he doesn't care where you two are.

#dazai x you #dazai x reader #dazai bsd #bsd dazai #dazai osamu #bungou stray dogs dazai #bungo stray dogs

[onmyyan]

Hi I have cowboy brain rot permanently 👐✨ I'm so full of ideas abt him. You move into town and Spring is beautiful in the country, and the community seems tight-knit. So close in fact that dinner parties or potlucks are common- usually it would be church potlucks but who cares honestly. The real kicker is he called in a favor to host and then begs you for help, only for it to get weirdly domestic while you're helping get ready. He directs all compliments to you and is schmoozing so much that you're not surprised that people seem to think you're his girlfriend - by the end of the night, you are, anyway.

And then summer rolls around and you're sun tanning and getting a visit from Ash- you explain you might as well since you can't get cool in the house, the ac got busted somehow (there's an Ash's boot-shaped dent that he's a little ashamed of, but your grandmother is out of town, and he's with you, so there's no real danger- and now he gets to install a better one later.) He offers to take you to a swimming hole on his land, just the two of you. It's the perfect place to confess (some) of his love for you.

Eventually in the fall, your grandma starts hinting you should move in with him, and then outright demanding it of you, and you wonder when she got so progressive. But it becomes clear that it's just because shes getting older and is convinced that you're already married, and it's upsetting her that you're leaving him lonely. So it feels a little early, but you move in for her wishes, reassuring yourself you're still close by if she needs you. She is a little confused in her older age, but it's at least partially because Ash has been telling her y'all were married and he missed you.

And finally, it's Christmas- you've been living with him for a while, and none of your prospects outside of town panned out- jobs you applied for didn't get back to you, certification programs didn't reply, and your connections with friends back home seem to have dried up. Your last living relation in town passes, and it's up in the air (at least in your mind) if you'll be leaving - there's nothing holding you here by familial obligation, but now you have nowhere else to go. Ashley convinces you to stay with him- you couldn't keep your grandmother's house due to debt, and with no back up available outside of town, you really don't have any other choice but to stay right where you are. You aren't aware of how many favors he's called in to make things go the way they have for you, how many messages and job offers he's intercepted, just to keep you.

Me @ you because You've fed us all with this ask my lawd you are so talented I LOVE THIS Ashley subtle but absolutely diabolical manipulation, his smoothness with his yandere actions, how you'd have no idea what hit you by the time he got a ring on your pretty finger

#yananswers #anon submission #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #ashley hunt #ashley x reader #Ashley hunt x reader

[tommarvoloriddlesdiary]

Share your lastest WIP! If you want 👀

which one 🥲😂😭💀 i have a few - will this do?

~

“They’re quite odd, aren’t they?” 

Abraxas is snickering when he says it. He’s just loud enough to grate - nothing new - but in what should be the quiet sanctity of the library, his tone sufficiently pulls Tom from his reading. 

His eyes lock on Abraxas across from him and flick to the ‘they’ in question. 

And, of course, it’s the Grangers. 

Since entering the magical community, Tom has learned a thing or two about their societal norms. An interesting component being that it is surprisingly challenging to be seen as ‘odd’ here. A wixen can be any number of things: lazy, stupid, poor, muggle - the list goes on, but ‘odd’ is a category used sparingly when directed towards each other. Much unlike the muggles Tom has known and grown his whole life around. 

He was always seen as odd by them - freakish - and continues to be whenever he returns to the orphanage for summer. So he doesn’t much care for the word. 

Besides, if anything, the Grangers aren't even worth gawking over and snickering about. Their worst can be summed up to anti-socialistic, codependent, and exclusionary behaviours - probably a trauma response from the war. They clearly have no interest in playing house with their dormmates or the rest of the school, so why bother?

They are sitting beneath the second-story stair landing where the elves have managed to shove one last table. It’s one of the more tucked away and private places on this level — a place Tom would not consider and will not consider; he needs to be visible, available — and they’ve claimed it like it’s never belonged to anyone else. Like it was placed there just for them. Their ease of acclimation to Hogwarts as a whole has certainly raised some eyebrows, yet still, he isn’t concerned. 

He had also known Hogwarts was his home the moment he had stepped foot in it, after all. He is not so foolish as to believe himself an outlier.

Hermione Granger’s hands are waving wildly, turning in circles and gesturing in a vague sphere-like shape. She’s talking aloud - not that Tom, or anyone else, can hear it - and doesn’t seem to like what she’s saying, given the harsh line between her brows. Ronald Granger is sitting in front of her and starts shaking his head. He says something and reaches across the table to take her wrists — expands them — the sphere becomes an oval.

Harry Granger sits beside them pensive, with his head down and reading carefully from a book in his hands. He starts to turn the page but pauses; he frowns and looks up.

He looks right at Tom.

Granger blinks once, slowly. He mouths something, but it’s not directed towards Tom because his siblings turn to look at him. It only lasts a moment before they suddenly turn around to stare at Tom as well, their eyes wide and alarmed. 

Tom watches on as Harry Granger slouches - maybe sighs? He shakes his head and palms his face in something like dismay. It doesn't take a legilimens to read his lips now—

“You are both such idiots.” He says.

The corner of Tom’s lips curl. It’s possibly a smile. He’ll never call it that out loud.

“Very,” he finally replies to Abraxas.

#tomarry #tomarrymort #harrymort #my fic #unnamed fic #pov: tom #knights meeting #555 words exactly #must be a sign #if you believe in that sort of thing #thank you for sending in an ask - i won't lie when i first saw it i wasn't going to post anything because i only read the first part #and i was thinking - no one shall demand anything of me #but then i saw the second half #😂😂😂😂😂 #also this should look familiar #i've posted something related to it before - but i've made changes #for starters i gave them all hermione's last name instead #at the hour i am posting this - hopefully no one will see it 😂

[sing-you-fools]

came across this and

it's funny. but it's also just good advice! if you have a problem of any kind, if you don't know how to solve it, or don't even know how to start, go to a librarian!

libraries are full of resources that you wouldn’t expect. and if they don't have the resources or information you need immediately available, they're really good at finding it! even if it's something like, hey this thing in my house is broken and i don't even know who to call to get it fixed? they can figure that out!

if anyone has been following my kitty saga, we spent a month trying to figure out what to do with mama kitty. i mentioned the situation to one (1) librarian, she happens to volunteer at the shelter we've been phone tagging with, and it's all taken care of within two days.

libraries aren't just for books, libraries are for whatever you can manage to use them for

#libraries #librarians #ask for help #sing-you-fools #id in alt text