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blockgamepirate · 3 years

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Reposting my response to some questions I got on an earlier Syndicate post:

Genuine question. What about the power vacuum that leaves once those governments are gone? Would the Syndicate as an association fight together against all outsider attempts to seize that power? What about people who aren’t members but are pressured/hurt in any way by those with more raw power & skill?

If Techno or the other members of the Syndicate don’t provide protection for anyone they liberate–and this server is very dog-eat-dog, there will be people greifing & stealing & destroying, & not just Tommy–then doesn’t that leave the liberated worse off? I’m just confused.

@operaeagleicelynlacelett

Those are understandable questions! Okay this is probably gonna get long if I'm gonna take this seriously:

I should point out first that I can't answer for the Syndicate, I'm not writing this arc and I don't know what the Syndicate will do in practice. I'm just answering as one anarchist based on my own personal ideals and reasoning. Other anarchists might disagree, the Syndicate might disagree, but I can’t talk for anyone else.

The power vacuum question is pretty simple: I would assume that the fighting tyranny bit would apply just as much to any new usurpers just as well as the original rulers.

As for the other part: so, the server definitely has a problem with griefing, stealing and general destruction and bullying. Even if the Syndicate decided to try and help with that, I don't actually think that would be the best solution, because the Syndicate just can't be everywhere at once and it also shouldn't really be trusted with that kind of position anyway. We don't want it to develop into a police force.

To me it seems like the most effective way to solve that issue would be to reinforce a sense of community on the server and have people looking out for each other. In real life, the most effective way to prevent wrongdoings is actually just having people around and paying attention. Having neighbours that check up on your house every now and then when you're away, having people keeping an eye on situations that seem suspicious or threatening. Mostly people don't want to get caught doing bad things, and don't want to get confronted, so having eyes on them tends to stop them from even trying. Won’t work in every situation, but it’s genuinely really effective.

Like my source for this is a bunch of interviews from like actual ex-criminals. They all seem to say that the best way to keep people like them out of mischief is to have people looking at them. (I don't have the links on me rn but I imagine they're pretty easy to google?)

The Arctic Commune already kinda does this pretty effectively. Techno tends to be away/hibernate a lot, but Ranboo and Phil both keep an eye on his house when he isn't there to protect it himself. And they also intervene if they see either of the other two get threatened or attacked. Which I realise isn't super convincing since they're all pretty strong and well-equipped, but that's the basic idea. The best defence is to stick together with the people around you and look after each other and each other's stuff, mutually. If that's not enough then you have to go ask for aid from the wider community. Possibly even the Syndicate, yeah, assuming you know they exist since, you know, they’re supposed to be secret.

IMO this should also be coupled with the philosophy of restorative justice (which is the opposite of retributive justice, aka where you punish the guilty party). I have my doubts about the Syndicate being on board with this one since they all have a history of being pretty big on retribution lmao... buuuut I'm speaking from my own ideals here.

Restorative justice is more about talking things out and negotiating the appropriate way for the guilty party to redeem themself to their victim. It tends to lead to much better results in the long term, much less recidivism and much less division in the community. The victim is more likely to benefit in some way, the offender ideally gets to make up for their mistakes in a productive and helpful way and doesn't have to suffer just for the sake of suffering, which also makes them less likely to resent society as a whole. And since it's less about punishment, you don't end up so easily accidentally punishing innocent people either.

AND having the server operate more along the lines of restorative justice than retributive justice would actually cut down on the griefing because usually what seems to happen is that someone griefs you and then you grief them back and then they grief you back and so on. Better option: someone griefs you, you talk, they agree to rebuild your build for you. Ideally. Might require some convincing obviously, might also require other people to come along and mediate. If they can't build it because they're bad at building or something, they can at least help gather the resources, or just pay you with something else.

This is also what I mean when I say that New L'Manberg could have just asked Techno for reparations for his attack on November 16th. New L'Manberg was always pretty poor, Techno was pretty rich. Executing Techno did nothing for them, reparations would have actually helped them gain something from the deal.

I mean tbh I think it would have been a shitty deal for Techno because I mean, I wouldn't want to give my resources to a country I'm not even part of either, especially not as an anarchist, and I don't know if he would have agreed (especially since they already looted his old base and all). But just from NLM's point of view it would have been a much better idea, and more likely to actually benefit them. He might have even agreed just to get them to leave him alone.

Honestly, the main problem with all these ideas is that I think they might work a bit too well lol. The server needs conflict after all. For the content.

#dream smp #dsmp syndicate #syndicate dream smp #technoblade #anarchy pog

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creepling · 3 years

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blame it on whatever (reader x neville longbottom)

pairing: neville longbottom/gender neutral!reader.

word count: 2,911

summary: when ron weasley convinces the reader to smuggle in alcohol for his 16th birthday, the gryffindor common room throw a very memorable party. the confident, rebellious reader ends up seducing the shy herbology expert neville longbottom, an encounter that was not expected; but neither of them are complaining about.

tw: swearing, underage drinking, use of alcohol.

alternative link: ao3

I want the night to go out with a bang.

That was the words Ron Weasley had for his birthday party. There was only a couple of days now until the first of march was coming closer. The buzz in the Gryffindor common room was building up to that day. Ron knew there was only one person to approach when it comes to successful parties. (Y/N) (Y/L/N), a Gryffindor muggle-born; they may be clueless about the wizarding world, but they knew everything about muggles. They always had the patience to enlighten Ron’s father about muggle life; talking about underground subways and bareknuckle boxing. Ron liked the stories that involved the more rebellious side of muggles. (Y/N) would always brag about how drunk they would get during the summer with their muggle friends and the antics they would get up to. So . . . that meant they was the perfect supplier for what Ron desired.

“You want drink?” (Y/N) said at breakfast with a mouthful of toast. “Alcoholic drink, yes.” Ron said lowly, eyeing the teachers that were passing by. Harry stood next to him, being a wingman almost. The two of them have been planning this for weeks. With (Y/N)’s help, their plans would be complete and hopefully, the party will be a success.

“Can’t you just get your twin brothers to smuggle in some fire whiskey for you?” (Y/N) said dismissively. They were not a morning person.

“Come on, (Y/L/N)! You’re always banging on about how drunk you get, and all the different drinks muggles have. Is there any way you can get a hold of it and bring it to my party?” Ron leaned over across to (Y/N) now and was giving them pleading eyes. All (Y/N) did was stare at Ron, until eventually a smirk came to their face.

“If you can get me cover and lend me a broom, I can supply the goods” They said, trying not to laugh at the excitement that lit up in Ron’s eyes. He clapped his hands together and nearly jumped in the air but stopped himself to keep his cool.

“You are a bloody legend!” Ron said before running off with Harry. (Y/N) rolled their eyes and muttered something about crazy Weasley’s, then put their head down and continued to eat.

“You guys are not fucking ready for this. I thought I ran out of luck when my provider was unavailable, but I managed to find someone last minute. I got a shit ton of stuff!” (Y/N) exclaimed once Ron invited them into the dorm alongside Harry, Seamus, Dean and Neville. (Y/N) carried a small, enchanted bag that could carry an infinite of items. They placed it on top of Ron’s trunk and began pulling out the abundance of bottles and cans. Everything from spirits to beers; they had it all. The boys gaped in awe. Harry, Seamus and Dean had ideas of what they were, being familiar with the wizarding world, but Ron and Neville looked in confusion at the labels.

“So . . . All of these can get you drunk?” Ron puzzled. “Drunk as a fucking skunk, mate!” Seamus butted in before (Y/N). “The higher the percentage, the quicker you get drunk.” “I know you’re Irish and all, Finnigan” (Y/N) said, “But I also brought mixers so you of you end up drinking the spirits straight. Wouldn’t want anyone spewing otherwise no one would graft you.”

At this moment while all the boys began sorting out the drinks, (Y/N) noticed Neville standing in bewilderment. His eyes going back and forth, his apples apple slowly bopping as he dryly swallows. In that moment, they looked at him in pity.

“There are non-alcoholic drinks too, Neville. You don’t have to drink it. Besides, we’re technically breaking the law in the muggle world for doing this.” (Y/N) reassured. “Buuuut. If you drink responsibly, there will be nothing to be afraid of.”

“It’s- It’s just, what if we get caught?” Neville asked. “The last time any sort of authority came into the common room during the night was when Sirius Black was in here. Besides, the professors never interrupted that party we had when Harry got the golden egg at the Triwizard tournament!” (Y/N) continued to reassure, “And don’t forget the abundance of quidditch winning parties!”

“But we never drank alcohol at those ones . . .” Neville was still nervous.

“I did, I drink at most parties.” They shrugged.

Neville’s eyes widened, as if they could even more. “You have?”

“Yes!” (Y/N) treated it like it was no big deal, “If you ever get concerned tonight Neville, you come straight to me. Okay?”

(Y/N) then proceeded to rest a gentle hand on Neville’s arm. He stiffened, looking at their gesture, biting the inside of his cheek. All (Y/N) noticed was his flustered cheeks, which made a twitch of a smile form on their face.

“Okay, I told everyone the party starts at seven.” Ron finally announced. “Fred and George are in charge of the music, so people will start coming out when they hear it. But before that happens, I want to make a toast.”

At this point, the boys grabbed a beer in their hands. (Y/N) and Neville were the only ones without one. Neville looked at the selection and was internally overwhelmed by the choice. “Take this.” (Y/N) gave Neville the same beer was most of the boys, “It’s good to start you off.” (Y/N) then took a goblet and filled it up with their go to drink. Taking it into their hand, they raised the goblet to the level of the boy’s beer bottles and was prepared for the toast.

“I’ll make a toast to (Y/N) first, for supplying us with all this amazing alcohol!” Ron chuckled. The boys gave a low cheer and Dean bumped (Y/N) with his elbow. All (Y/N) did was give a sly smile and a sarcastic bow of the head. Neville smiled nervously, but he could slowly feel the excitement build in his stomach. “And finally, a toast for this party to be the best bloody party that happens in the Gryffindor common room!” Ron finally said. This time, their cheers were louder, their glasses clinked together and all of them simultaneously took a drink of their alcohol. Harry let out a refreshing sigh, Seamus took a gulp then proceeded to finish the whole bottle, and Ron’s face screwed up from the bitterness. Neville smacked his tongue as he tasted the beer, then gave a little shrug. (Y/N), their drink halfway empty already, looked at all the boys and gave a signature, attractive smile.

As if fate could sense the adrenaline in their blood, the group began hearing faint, up-beat music coming from downstairs.

“There is our calling.” (Y/N) said, taking their preferred beverages and heading downstairs.

The night was at its prime around midnight when most of the Gryffindors and selected guests from other houses arrived downstairs and into the common room. (Y/N) enjoyed seeing everyone in the same room together, especially Dumbledore’s Army; seeing them all bond in a setting that wasn’t trying to prepare for the war to come. Harry looked especially chill and was playing beer-pong with Hermione, a sight (Y/N) thought they would never see in their lifetime. Most party-goers took this occasion especially to flirt with others, using their liquid luck of alcohol to strike them the courage to approach their crushes. (Y/N), however, found themselves to be alone at this current moment; watching their friends in motion and they suddenly felt like time was on halt. They were definitely drunk, but they could handle their drink, the muggles taught them well. Their lids looked heavy and their cheeks were flushed, but their speech and motion was still intact. Unlike most who were already spewing their guts in the lavatory.

In the moment of observing, (Y/N) noticed another individual in their situation. Neville Longbottom, sitting quietly on the couch, surrounded by busy bodies as he admired the flickering flames by the fireplace. (Y/N) found themselves smiling as they watched him, but quickly snapped their eyes away once they noticed what they were doing. (Y/N) couldn’t stand seeing him like this, Neville deserved to let loose like everyone else. It pained them to see no one talking to Neville, hanging out with him, getting to know him. That’s when (Y/N) realised they would gladly fill that position. So with one confident swig of their drink, (Y/N) approached Neville and held out their hand.

“Come on, Longbottom. I want to take shots.” They said, grabbing the Gryffindor boy’s attention. “I want you to come with me.” “I- I’m okay, thanks.” Neville said, still nervous about the idea of being drunk. It was hard to blame him, it was his first time. “You don’t have to take the shots, stupid. I just want you to accompany me.” (Y/N) said, swiftly taking Neville’s hand and pulling him up from the couch. Neville followed into their presence, with that rosy tint still on his cheeks. He looked at them with those same, shy eyes; the ones that always made (Y/N) feel something in their chest. When Neville nodded, (Y/N) ushered him to the table next to the stereo where Ron had lined up all the drink (Y/N) had provided. They took a shot glass and a random spirit from the table and began pouring.

“What does it taste like?” Neville asked, having to lean towards (Y/N)’s ear due to the loud music. “It burns your throat like fuck.” They said, merrily chuckling. They took a quick swig of the shot and swallowed it down with a mild, cringed face. Neville stared in amazement, looking at the label of the bottle. He looked around the room, seeing Seamus and Dean eye him up nearby. They rushed to him once they seen the bottled spirit in his hand. “Go on, Longbottom. There’s no harm in trying.” Dean said, not in a peer pressuring way, in a reassuring way. It was obvious that Neville was curious to try it; he wanted to have fun like everyone else. (Y/N) put their hand on Neville’s arm once again and gave him a mischievous smirk.

“I’ll take another shot with you so you don’t feel alone?” They spoke. They definitely were drunk at this point. After a few seconds of decision making, Neville gave a shrug and screwed off the cap. “To hell with it. I’ll do it.”

Within mere minutes (Y/N) and Neville linked arms and swung the harsh liquid into their mouths, winching at the burn of their throats and quickly swallowing before they could spit it out. Dean and Seamus yelled and cheered and roughhoused Neville into a bear hug. Neville now had a smug, but still timid smile on his face and he took the fresh beer bottle Seamus offered him. (Y/N) watched Neville and slowly began to smile, Neville’s happiness suddenly becoming contagious.

“Hang out with me for the rest of the night.” (Y/N) said self-assured. Neville’s flustered cheeks seemed to get redder, either from flattery or from the drink. Either way, he nodded his head and let himself be dragged to another part of the common room by (Y/N).

A transition into a song made (Y/N)’s ears perk and their eyes widen. They began to smile and laugh drunkenly, swinging their goblet into the air. “I fucking love this song!” They screeched. Neville laughed at this new version of (Y/N), they were still funny and charming; but their drunk self just heightened these qualities by one hundred. Neville liked how their eyes glistened more, how their cheeks were rosier, their smile becoming suggestive and sly. It was obvious they were drunk, and after a couple of drinks and a strong shot; Neville began to feel the affects too. As he continued to admire (Y/N), he sluggish thoughts never realized that (Y/N) had their arms wrapped around him, pulling him closer and beginning to sway to the music.

“This song is a bit too up-beat to be slow dancing.” Neville said, chuckling off the tension he felt within his body.

“I know,” (Y/N) said, their mischievous smirk creeping back onto their face. Their lips rested on his ear as they muttered, “I just needed an excuse to be close with you.”

Neville felt like he was going to explode when they said that. (Y/N) was now looking into his eyes and he was looking back; absolutely mesmerized by their gaze. God, (Y/N)’s face could melt butter; their energy radiated warmth, but also a side of rebellion. (Y/N) was Neville’s opposite, they were a risk-taker, troublemaker, they marched to the beat of their own drum. Neville, he always tried hard to blend in with the background. He wished he were invisible. Even if his confidence has become more and more apparent, he still feels like that unlovable young boy.

“You’re just drunk.” Neville dismissed, still trying to keep a smile. (Y/N) pulled away, pretending to be shocked in a mocking manner.

“Fuck you, Longbottom, for stating the obvious.” They said, a chuckle escaping from their lips. “But I am not one of those drunks who speaks a bunch of bullshit.”

Neville sighed, still stepping to the music alongside (Y/N), but this time looking at the bottle of his beer bottle. “I know you’re only hanging out with me because you feel sorry for me.”

(Y/N) felt a piece of their heart tear off when they heard him say that. His tone was melancholy, but he did not cry. He just couldn’t bear to look at them due to the fabricated shame surrounding him. If this is what Neville thinks of himself, (Y/N) wanted to prove to him how far from the truth he was. Gently, (Y/N) lifted his chin with their two index fingers and were greeted by Neville’s warm brown eyes. God, his eyes were lovely. They made (Y/N) smile so much that they bit their lip to contain it.

“I’m hanging out with you, Neville, because I was alone.” They said, “I was sitting by myself just like you were. You may have this idea in your head that everyone loves me, and I am too popular for my own good. But no matter what, I will always be the person sitting by myself and staring around the room. Always have, always will.”

Neville was surprised to hear them say that. See the glistening in their eyes as if they were holding in tears. Neville had no idea they felt that way. Drunken words may not speak sober thoughts, but in this instance; Neville believed that to be true. He could not help but stare into their eyes, see this different side of (Y/N), a side that has been covered up so many times by the confident side of themselves. A side that is much more vulnerable and empathetic. In this instance, Neville had realised, he was feeling something towards (Y/N).

(Y/N)’s drunken words began to speak more sober thoughts when they said, “Is it bad that I really want to kiss you right now?”

Neville was convinced he had drunk liquid luck due to the actions he was about to committ. He wrapped his arms around (Y/N)’s waist and pulled them closer, finally finishing his bottle of beer. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was himself, but Neville found himself pressing his body against theirs and slowly leaning in for a kiss. (Y/N) was stiff, not expecting Neville to go through with it, but smiling into his presence when he advanced. They sealed the space between their lips and kissed him as softly as they could, basking in his warmth. Neville let out the slightest whimper but held their waist and leaned into the kiss; not entirely sure on the right and wrong ways to kiss. (Y/N) craved for more passion as they cupped his soft cheeks, their fingers slowly fumbling with the ends of his hair. They made sure to guide Neville into comfort as they continued to drunkenly make out, small smiles forming on their lips and they enjoyed each other’s embrace.

“You’re not going to regret doing this in the morning, are you?” Neville muttered hesitantly, nervously biting his lip to stop the kiss. (Y/N) ran their hands along Neville’s shoulders and down his chest, never breaking eye contact.

“I’m just doing what I’ve always wanted to do.” (Y/N) said, “And I wanted to it before anyone at this party could get your hands on you.”

As Neville smirked and leaned in for another kiss, (Y/N) began to toy with him and pull away from his embrace, dancing to the music as if nothing happened. Neville rolled his eyes but quickly joined in, seeing the impressionable stares he received after his little make-out session. (Y/N) admired the light in his warm eyes as there was finally a sense of happiness in his demeaner. His smile lightened up the common room and he had no idea about it.

From that moment one, (Y/N) was absolutely smitten.

TAGLIST / if you would like to join my taglist, click here !

#neville longbottom #neville longbottom imagine #neville longbottom fanfic #harry potter #harry potter imagines #imagines #fanfic #reader x neville longbottom #neville longbottom x reader #gender neutral reader #harry potter fanfic

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mariaaamaaarquez · 5 years

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the second one- where does this start?

okay okay so I guessss this is the part where I kind of have to talk about myself since honestly truly now that I think about it- not a lot of people know MY story.. its usually me asking to someone else what theirs is and why they are the person they are, but sometimes not even my closest best friends know, because they never asked? weird, I know lmao. buuuut okay where to start right? well I was born in Guatemala, September 21st 2001, for the ones who didn't know hahah aaaand I was a happy kid. always a happy kid. to keep the long story as short as possible, moms filed for a divorce, father said no. for my fifth birthday though, they both wanted to take me to Disneyland, in Cali. this meant that we had to get a tourist visa from Guatemala granting us permission to leave the country, which for those of you who don't know how that process works, its HARD. somehow we managed to get it, and a few weeks later I was celebrating my birthday in Disneyland. that was when my mom made the decision to run away from my dad. obviously telling this story now, I know we had family in Virginia. and being an immigrant traveling with your also immigrant daughter as you're already in the United States- not so hard. I woke up to my mom packing bags, she just told me to go back to sleep and that we were going to the beach later that day. I, listened to my mom, and proceeded to waking up basically in an airport. just like that my life had shifted. we flew into Virginia, and proceeded to living there, hiding for six months. hiding was tough. my father had even filed a missing child case basically saying I had been abducted. Amber Alert who, right? During my time there, I did start to notice money coming in, we would go shopping, and I would get random presents out of nowhere. AAAAnd thats where my stepdad comes in. Once again, to summarize, my (now stepdad) had been in contact with my mom ever since they were high school teenage sweethearts. when my mom split up with him, it was because he had decided to flee to the United States and stay as an illegal immigrant. that’s when she met my father and had me- talk about a cockblock. anyways I soon came to find out that all the money and presents coming in, were from him. he came to Virginia for Christmas, also took me to New York for the first time and I got to get hello kitty EVERYTHING inside that Toys R Us- and then we came back home to Virginia and I was completely in awe of how good this man was treating me and my mom- aaaandd thats when they dropped the bomb on me. We were moving to Seattle. shortly after making that decision, it was January of the year 2006 and I was on a plane (again) and headed to my new life, with a new dad, and SOOO many new toys. I was happy.

Fast forward a few months, moms is pregnant, has my brother in 2007, I can suddenly speak and understand English FLUENTLY, and I have an entire new family. As if it couldn't get crazier, my 3rd grade year, my biological dad reached out to my mom, told her he was in town. I had no idea until we stepped into the closest mall by my house, and there he was. Live and in the flesh, it was my father. I ran into his arms and obviously balled my eyes out, and I just couldn't believe it.

Fast forward a few years, he visited again and then after that visit went kind of MIA. No more emails, or letters, and most definitely no calls. When I turned 13, I still waited for that phone call, waited all day for my mom to tell me “your father’s on the phone” and nothing. Until it was 1AM, September 22nd, and my mom told me THATS when he called. 1 fucking am here, meaning 3 am over there, basically the day after my birthday. After that year, noting stayed the same. No longer waited, or anticipated, just- nothing. I later came to find out through social media, that he was having a daughter. Insane. I couldn't believe it, but part of me saw it coming. I mean this is what I wanted right? for him to move on and start his new life, and I didn't care anymore if I was a part of it... right? On my 16th birthday, he called. By this time I wanna say my little sister was probably around 3 or 4, (still hadn't gotten a call, until now.) When he called me I was in the middle of a small get together with just family, my boyfriend and bestfriends at the time had already left and I heard the phone ring. my mom looked at it and went silent, and showed me the phone. I knew who it was. I recognized the number. and I didn't want to answer, but I needed answers.

so I pick up.

“hello?”

“hi mija, god how I've missed you I can't believe I actually got a hold of-”

“stop.”

you can’t believe you got a hold of me? you never tried.

I proceeded to basically cussing him out, and asking about my sister. You know when you accidentally rat yourself out to your parents by saying something you shouldn't have? yeah thats exactly what happened to my not so dearly beloved father. he basically spit out that my sister’s mother was the same bitc- lady, that my dad had cheated on my mom with- go figure! no wonder the woman ran away from you, jesus.

“look, im sorry. god I am so sorry for everything I promise I will make it up to you what do I have to do?”

“never speak to me ever again. just like how I was basically dead to you and had no right to know the truth about everything, as far as im concerned the only thing that connects us is blood.”

he ruined my 16th birthday.

never talked to him ever again.

fast forward to my senior year- tf when did that happen?

I’m in Washington DC on a school trip (so much fun by the way AMAZING) and I call my mom to say hi and catch up (actually just calling because she was across the country and if she didn't hear from me she’d think I was dead inside the White House or something, hispanic moms, you know) and she then proceeds to tell me that she saw on Facebook (once again this damn social media) that my dad had just became a father, again. another baby sister. also that he had been living back and forth from Germany to Guatemala.

sounds like a blast daddy dearest.

(yeah he has a lot of money by the way, still waiting on the child support from the past decade but its good HAH)

FAST FORWARD AgaIINNN to March of 2019.

I became a legal resident of the United States, free to travel in and out of the country without a problem, free to work wherever I wanted, free to go to college and actually have a social security number when im asked for it- just simply free.

April 2019.

The month I got the chance to go back to my beloved Guatemala for the first time in thirteen years. THIRTEEN. To not bore you with all the details of my trip, on the last night, fate decided that it was time, and yes ladies and gents, there he was, in the flesh, my father. I always call him “father” and my stepdad “dad” just because all that other guy did was help with the process of me being born he was never a real dad to me ever, as heart wrenching and harsh as that may sound. so fuck him. seriously, fuck him. I saw him, with tears of anger streaming down my face and my entire body shaking, and he walks up to me crying.

he leans in for a hug.

“not a step closer don’t you dare touch me.”

he walks away and disappears into the crowd of hundreds of people, and I proceeded to having the worst panic attack I have ever had. paramedics asking if I was okay, my mom on the floor with me as I was sobbing and screaming, and everyone scared out of their minds because suddenly I felt trapped in a ball of water with no air as everyone watched the color of my skin slowly beginning to fade until I became white as snow. when I snapped out of it and finally calmed down, I cried. god I cried so damn much. I was so hurt, mostly because part of me thought he would take a stand for once and try. just try. even though I told him not to I knew a part of me wanted him to, but he didn't. and he disappointed me- just as I expected he would.

haven't heard of him since.

that was almost five months ago. and that leads us to today, the present! and thats my story, without all the minor details because with those included id have people reading for hours. But, even after this longgg ass post, if you're still here hi! thanks for reading, and for being interested in my story? not a lot of people tend to be, but if im gonna be writing on here I might as well include it- right?

anyways- yep thats me, this along w other crazzyyy things are part of what shaped me to be the person I am today. As for my family? My mom, my dad, and my little brother? I’d take a bullet.

and as for my father?

I don’t know,

I don’t bother to ask,

I don’t care.

besitos,

ria.

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uncuentofriki · 6 years

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Hi there! :D Going off of Whitty's ask about Mexican Culture things, how do you refer to a teacher when talking to someone else? Like, in English it'd be "I saw Mr. So-and-So yesterday." Would you refer to them as Profesor So-and-So or Señor So-and-So? (Thank you so much for all the language and culture checking, you're ABSOLUTELY WONDERFUL.)

Oh xD, that gets even funnier. It can be like this:

It can be something likeA: Yesterday I say Profe Héctor (because we never talk to them by their last names) with the Dire Imelda. I think they’re dating.B: Yeah, they were together on Cruz’s stream of Profe Hector’s birthday.

Or like this

A: Yesterday I saw the music teacher with the directora. I think they’re dating.

Usually we call the profes and maestras by the class they impart or for their names, never their last names and NEVER EVER señor/señora/señorita -unless you’re on a bilingüal school, but I studied on monolingual private and public schools-. And since we’re cruel as any kid or college student on any other country, we give nicknames to the teachers, usually related to their aspect or an anecdote or a tic (one of my teachers was called “Hilda saiyayin” because she always had messy hair and looked like a Dragon Ball character).

Oh and we have this figure on middle and high school called El Prefecto/La Prefecta, whom is a teacher -or more teachers- hired to check the behavior of the students on the halls and give reports if they’re misbehaving. Since we all use uniform, also they check that the girls have their skirts no more than 3 fingers upon their knees and the boys must have their hair short and no beard or moustache. Also on certain schools you can’t wear make up or nail polish or dye your hair (on my high school they were fine with that, unless you dyed your hair a bright red or purple or something like that. Also I used to use lots of black eye shadow and no one told me anything). I hold the honor on my family of being the only one who has graduated from that high school without a behavior report :D

Oh! The school levels here are (in case you need them)-Kíndergarden/Jardín de niños: from 3 to 6 years old. -Elementary school/Primaria: From 6 to 12 years old. Which means lots of bullers :’D (Trust me).On Kinder and Primaria we have the same teacher for all the classes, except PE and maybe music if you take that (if you’re on a private school, you maybe will take religion, so there’s a priest, nun or a secular teacher for that class).

Miguel on the Teacher AU is on 2nd grade of Primaria, if he’s 8 years old or started 3rd grade. School year is pretty much the same as in the USA.-Middle school/Secundaria (Or “Secu”): From 12 to 15 years old. Here’s when La Prefecta/El Prefecto appears for the first time on your life.We have different teachers for all the classes on Secundaria and Preparatoria.So, this is the “basic education” in Mexico. High School was not obligatory to be coursed on Mexico until a few years ago.-High School/Preparatoria (Or “prepa”): From 15 to 18 years old. We divide it by semesters -from 1 to 6-, not by years, so when we say on which phase of the school we are, we say “I’m on first semester, I’m on fourth semester” and so on… Same goes on college, buuuut we’re not that strict on on how many years you have to finish so it gets funny things like “I’m on 16th semester”There are ways to study high school that allows you to study it on just weeks, but I don’t regard those as specially good. I was a teacher on one of those.-College: Once you graduate from Preparatoria until you can manage to graduate :’D (I joke that it was easier to enter to college than to get out from there). Oh and it’s mostly free to go to college if you go to a public college and they’re well regarded here! My college is one of the best on Latin America and I just pay like… 10 dollars for every semester for tuition?

#Coco pixar

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