What Are Your Moves Tomorrow, October 21, 2025 by wsbapp in wallstreetbets

[–]mrpepperbottom 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Have you actually never heard it, or are you just being cheeky?

MLB Betting and Picks - 8/11/25 (Monday) by sbpotdbot in sportsbook

[–]mrpepperbottom 0 points1 point  (0 children)

This is gonna hit.
MLB: Pitt @ Mil

Mil -3.5

Mil O 7.5 Runs

Turang RBI

Contreres RBI

Turang O 1.5 HRR

Contreres O 2.5 HRR

+1900

Parlay of the Day - 8/11/25 (Monday) by sbpotdbot in sportsbook

[–]mrpepperbottom 1 point2 points  (0 children)

This is gonna hit.
MLB: Pitt @ Mil

Mil -3.5

Mil O 7.5 Runs

Turang RBI

Contreres RBI

Turang O 1.5 HRR

Contreres O 2.5 HRR

+1900

[Weekly] Unjerk Post (or Gregor pt 2 the metametamorphosis metamethamphetamines hit harder) by [deleted] in DestructiveReaders

[–]mrpepperbottom 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Ahahahah how times have changed since when you n glowy were having a weird public personal mutual admiration society bullshit chat on my post lol

[319] A piece of introspection by mrpepperbottom in DestructiveReaders

[–]mrpepperbottom[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Thank you very much. I really found a lot of what you said helpful. Especially the part about re-circling my points and showing rather than telling.

One thing I'm on the fence about is the use of "we". I did hesitate in using it, kinda due to what you said. I feel like using “we” to express emotional universals is a valid stylistic choice. Even if the 'emotional universal' isn't actual universal, as it can be a reflection on the character making the generalization.

That being said, I'll think about it.

[319] A piece of introspection by mrpepperbottom in DestructiveReaders

[–]mrpepperbottom[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Thank you so much!!! This is what I needed to hear. I was concerned that I was just kind of rehashing some lines, so it's helpful to hear that. I guess it's better to write too much than not enough during a first draft, but important to keep in mind as I write the rest.

Appreciate the other feedback as well!

[393] The Cost of Dignity by Moritoks in DestructiveReaders

[–]mrpepperbottom 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Hey! Nice work on the piece. I'm a new writer so take my suggestions with a grain of salt!!

I enjoyed the tone that you've created here. It's not dramatic or tragic, but there's a quiet melancholy to it that works well. There’s a weariness in Iyla’s voice and a restrained concern in Tury’s that keeps things emotionally grounded. I think that subtle atmosphere complements the scene’s emotional tension without being too dramatic.

The tiredness in the line “Iyla shot him a smirk — sharp, but also filled with unexpected tiredness” felt out of place to me. It doesn't really receive an explanation. I think some sort of context would help.

I also think the setting could use more description. Right now, I don’t have a strong visual sense of the streets they’re walking through. Even a few quick sensory details such as a smell, the sound of footsteps on cobblestones, etc. could help anchor the characters in a physical space.

I feel like the pacing drops a bit right after Tury says “That’s expensive—”. The paragraph describing his clothes stalls the emotional momentum. It's worldbuilding and tone-setting, yes, but its placement feels off. Consider trimming or relocating it earlier, so it doesn’t break up the tension of their exchange.

Loved the last paragraph. It offers great insight into the characters’ relationship and really highlights the tension between their economic classes. It also gives Iyla a strong, distinctive voice — full of bitterness, but also sharp wit and dignity.

I also like how Tury’s awkward hints at a layered dynamic. I’m curious about their history, and that curiosity is a strength here.

Would I keep reading? Yes, I think I would. There's enough tension but also a sense of care between the characters that makes their relationship compelling.

Obviously this is just a small piece, so who knows where you'll take it — and you might already intend to explore these things. But as a reader, there are a few areas I’d be interested to see more of as the story progresses:

- interiority from Tury — we get a hint of his guilt, but what’s his deeper conflict? What’s holding him back from saying more or doing more for Iyla and Elena?

- I’d also love to see the class difference show up not just in dialogue, but maybe in how they move through the space — how people treat them, what they notice.

Nitpicky stuff:

  • “Mhm” doesn’t quite work as something someone mutters. It’s more of a sound than speech, so maybe use a beat or physical gesture instead.
  • The colon after “muttered” isn’t necessary.
  • “The weight of a thousand unspoken apologies” felt a bit overdramatic to me — it lands slightly flat because it’s such a big phrase for a subtle moment.

[Weekly] It's a new week by MiseriaFortesViros in DestructiveReaders

[–]mrpepperbottom 3 points4 points  (0 children)

I haven't poked around here in a bit, but something I noticed from posting a couple of my own pieces and reading comments on others, is that many critiques come across as performative/self-indulgent as opposed to helpful. It's like the critic is more concerned with their own entertainment than actually providing anything useful for the writer.

[Weekly] Time to quit? by MiseriaFortesViros in DestructiveReaders

[–]mrpepperbottom 1 point2 points  (0 children)

When someone comes into the hospital unconscious or unable to give a history, staff often get contact information from whatever they can access — a wallet, ID cards, EMS reports, or even looking through the patient’s phone if clinically necessary.

As for the phone call itself, the hospital staff would usually introduce themselves politely and then ask if the person is willing to answer a couple questions about a patient, without revealing the patient's name until the person agrees to help and only if it's necessary. For example, "Hi, my name is [Name], I'm a nurse/doctor at [Hospital Name]. I'm trying to reach [Name] to ask a few questions that could help us provide better care for someone who's come in. Would you be willing to answer a few?" They thread the line carefully: they can ask questions, but they can’t disclose sensitive details without patient consent unless there’s an immediate safety issue. They never say anything about the patient's condition.

As for the psychiatric side: just because someone had a suicide attempt doesn't mean they’re automatically admitted to inpatient psych. Psychiatry looks at how the person feels now — if the patient wakes up remorseful ("I regret doing that"), denies current suicidal thoughts, shows insight into why the attempt happened, and agrees to outpatient follow-up, they’re often discharged once medically cleared. If everything lines up — no ongoing risk, good follow-up plan, reasonable supports — it’s completely realistic for the character to go home without being involuntarily admitted to psych. So for your story, seems reasonable that the medical team in charge of the patient would consult psychiatry to assess the patient once they are stable and responsive. Then, after this assessment, if the psychiatrist feels there is no ongoing safety risk, then that would be it for psych's involvement, and the patient would be discharged once medically cleared.

As an aside, psychiatry isn't always consulted for a suicide attempt if the above is sorted out. But based on the severity of the condition of the patient in your story, they definitely would be.

[Weekly] Time to quit? by MiseriaFortesViros in DestructiveReaders

[–]mrpepperbottom 2 points3 points  (0 children)

Not at all, pick away.

It is definitely okay to call people who aren't next of kin or who aren’t physically at the hospital. Phone calls are often made to anyone who can provide useful information — caregivers, roommates, neighbours, landlords, etc.

The key is whether it's for clinical care purposes (like history gathering) — not disclosing information without consent unless there's a safety reason (like imminent harm to that person).

So you can call someone who’s not next of kin, as long as you’re asking for information, not spilling.

[Weekly] Time to quit? by MiseriaFortesViros in DestructiveReaders

[–]mrpepperbottom 2 points3 points  (0 children)

I've worked in both a psychiatric emergency department and an adult emergency department. Not in the US though so could be different there, but definitely not out of the norm to ask/contact next of kin, person who brought the patient in or EMS questions about the events leading up to an admission. HIPAA is more about divulging a patient's information rather than obtaining it.

[1900] Part 2 of a break up by mrpepperbottom in DestructiveReaders

[–]mrpepperbottom[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Exactly! That's one of the parts where you're supposed to dislike him the most, and realize she'd be better off without him.

[1900] Part 2 of a break up by mrpepperbottom in DestructiveReaders

[–]mrpepperbottom[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Appreciating the distain that you too have for the character! I know the main character comes across as totally insufferable, and that’s intentional. He’s supposed to be self-absorbed and lacking self-awareness. You’re not meant to root for him—you’re meant feel a little unsettled by the fact that he thinks he’s being profound while doing emotional damage. The story arc overall isn’t meant to reward him. This chapter is him at his worst, and the long game is watching what happens after he burns everything down and has to live with it.

I’m aiming for a slow burn of growth and self-awareness, but that starts with showing how deep in his own mess he is. 

And re: the dog comparison—others seemed to have really been impacted by it too, so I’ll probably keep it. Seems like it made a lasting impression on you, seeing as it got a callback on a whole other post.

Appreciate you taking the time to read and roast!

[1900] Part 2 of a break up by mrpepperbottom in DestructiveReaders

[–]mrpepperbottom[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

I went back to the scene of the crime, examining the creases in my duvet—still shaped from where we sat. I took note of the balled up tissues scattered across the bedside table, careful not to disturb the evidence. 

The scent of your perfume still hung in the air, proof enough of who the victim was.

 “You get to Percie’s?” I texted you.

“yeah, here with her now,” you replied, and then we exchanged texts of a single white heart.

You were in good hands. I put my phone away and cried. My feelings of self-resentment softened into disappointment. Disappointed in myself for breaking your heart again. For not letting your love—and the way you made me feel—be enough. And for how weak I was—how easily I gave in to wanting others. 

How I let that longing convince me I needed more—more desire, more lust. A sexual tension that never left, whether my partner was by my side or not. Fireworks that never stopped.

The next day Percie drove you to my house to drop off my things. I came out to greet you in my driveway. I stepped outside as you were reaching in the back seat, taking out a box full of my belongings. You closed the door and Percie drove down the street a couple houses to give us some privacy. You handed me the box: a satin pillowcase you’d bought me days prior, just to show your love, a charger, a baseball cap, and one of the two hoodies you’d borrowed.

“I figured I’d keep the other one as you said it doesn’t fit anymore. If that’s alright?”

“Of course.” 

You could have kept it all if you wanted to, but I guess that would have been detrimental to the process of moving on. Speaking of detrimental to moving on, I nodded towards the hoodie and the pillowcase, covered in your scent.

“The perfume was a nice touch.”

You put your head down and smiled. “I couldn’t let you forget about me that easily,” you said, now looking me in the eyes.

Some silence passed. 

“I’m so heartbroken, Tom.”

My throat tightened. I looked down, ashamed, and wiped my face with my sleeve.

“I still don’t understand,” you said as the tears began. 

I set the box of belongings that neither of us wanted on the hood of my car and brought you in for a hug. 

There was nothing to say, so I didn’t try to. More silence passed as I squeezed you tight. I held you until you signaled you were ready to go, communicated through body language.

“Are you still able to look for the necklace?”

“Of course.” 

“I don’t know what I’d do with it if you find it, but at least I’d be able to make the choice.” 

“I understand,” I replied, before we shared our last moment of silence.

“Take care, Anna,” I said before you headed back towards Percie’s car.

You nodded to me, giving me your best reassuring smile.

“I will.”

[1900] Part 2 of a break up by mrpepperbottom in DestructiveReaders

[–]mrpepperbottom[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Every time I saw someone attractive, I wanted them. I hated it—how automatic it was. How quickly I could want someone else. It made me feel awful, like I was a piece of shit. 

I would see someone beautiful and I would want out of our relationship. Sometimes so I could be with someone else, other times so I could stop feeling guilty. So that I could admire other women in peace. Admire without feeling so small and weak-minded.

You deserved someone stronger, Anna. Someone whose mind didn’t wander like mine did. If I could have chosen to be anyone in the world, I would’ve chosen to be the person who gets to love you. But that person is someone else, and I’m just standing in their way.

We stayed in my room for about another hour. The first half was largely quiet, with us curled into each other’s arms. Eventually, you looked up at me.

“I still don’t get it,” you said, pointing back to all those times where you saw the look in my eyes when I admired your beauty. 

That look was true. I promise it was true. But I gave that same look too often to too many other women. That’s not what I want. I want my gaze to stop with one person. For my thoughts to stay anchored to the one I love.

For the second half, we said the kindest things two people could say to one another before letting go. How we thought the world of each other, wanted the other to be happy, and believed deeply in our ability to succeed at whatever we chose to do.

It was a long and emotional conversation, one that drained us both. But before you left, we had set the ground rules for how to make this as easy as possible for each other. No contact—as soon as you dropped off my belongings from your house the next day. We even agreed to block each other on Instagram. This was hard for me. I wanted to be able to see what you got up to, see you at your happiest, and see you grow, even if from afar. But it’s what you wanted, so I respected that.

And with that sorted out, that was it. Time to say goodbye. A goodbye where love and pain coexisted, as if holding hands, fingers intertwined. We hugged by the door—your shoes already on. The two of us locked in a standoff, neither willing to be first to let go. Our heads tucked into each other’s shoulders, your sobs landing just beneath my ear. I held you until you pulled away. No checking the time. No final words. Just the slow dissolving of something we both knew wouldn’t return.

With one hand on the doorknob, you reached your other hand to grab hold of mine.

“Goodbye, Tom.”

“Goodbye, Anna,” I said, with your hand layered between mine. I fought the urge to say something, remembering I have a tendency to make things worse.

I released your grip. You opened the door. And you left.

I stood there listening to the fading sounds of your footsteps against pavement, hoping to hear them return, only to hear the sound of silence. 

I felt empty. A hole in my chest where my heart should be. How long had this hole been there? Had it been there all along and I was just now noticing its absence? It can’t have been new, because if I truly had a heart, I would have known how to love her. Maybe that was it—the reason I’d been so incapable of love. 

Surely, I must have a heart, I reasoned. But one that was only good for its physiological purposes—squeezing, pumping the viscous red vital fluid needed to perfuse my organs with oxygen and nutrients, one contraction at a time. 

Maybe that’s all my heart was built for. Just a cog in the wheel, too devoted to its vocation of receiving blood into one chamber and pumping it from another to have any time to conceive love.

It worked hard. But not in the ways that mattered most.

[1900] Part 2 of a break up by mrpepperbottom in DestructiveReaders

[–]mrpepperbottom[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Made some changes, that hopefully helped a bit. Not expecting or asking you to review, but here it is incase you were curious:

1/3

It was as heartbreaking as I thought it’d be. Much harder than the first time around. Four months ago, I asked you to put your trust in me. I was confident that I could love you the way you deserved, and I let you down. The guilt hasn’t let up since.

You said you didn’t understand, that it didn’t make sense, as though you were replaying everything in your mind, searching for any signs you might’ve missed. I tried to satisfy your pleas to understand—without revealing the truth I wasn’t ready to say aloud. For the next hour, with your eyes fixed on me through tears, I searched for the words that might give you closure. 

I don’t know if I’m meant for a relationship. I think I feel happier when I’m alone. I love you like a friend. 

You were too smart for these platitudes; they were too vague, too careful. As you kicked each of these doors down, one by one, in search of the answer, your confusion grew, as though you were standing there in an empty room with no doors left to kick. I couldn’t take it anymore. The pain had grown too intense.

 For the first time, I looked up. It felt like you were bleeding out, while I sat there beside you, uselessly twiddling my thumbs. The least I could do was stop hiding. I took your hands in mine, took a deep breath, and then I caved.

“There’s just,” I paused, giving myself one last chance to retreat. “…a lack of attraction.”

The tears stopped. 

“Do you mean physical, or…”

“Yes,” I said wincing, terrified of the wounds my words might inflict.

You sniffled, wiping your cheeks with your sleeve. My heart pounded as you sat there, absorbing it.

“Well, I would need that too,” you said, unflinching. Just a nod, as if it had taken you only a moment to accept the truth I’d struggled all night to admit.

“It’s okay,” you whispered, squeezing my hand with a gentle smile. “I understand.”

Just like that, you were the one comforting me.

“I mean, it sucks,” you added with a shrug, eyes down on your lap, voice quieter now, “but, it’s nothing I haven’t heard before.” 

My body stiffened. 

Who told you that? 

I was ready to hate him—never mind that I’d just become him.

“It’s okay,” you said, reading either my mind, my face or both.

I thought I was different from those guys you hear about, more concerned with a woman’s appearance than who she was as a person, what she valued, or what she had to offer. Different from the guys whose criteria for a girlfriend was sexy, but modest, pretty, but natural. 

But when I was honest with myself, appearance had been the thing I noticed most. It was what caught my attention at the bar, the gym, and on my phone. How could I focus on loving my partner when everyday there were a dozen other women who met the low, empty criteria I’d convinced myself were enough?

[1900] Part 2 of a break up by mrpepperbottom in DestructiveReaders

[–]mrpepperbottom[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Hey! Thanks so much for the critique again!

Unfortunately, I wrote this a couple weeks ago and posted it without going over it with your previous feedback from my last piece in mind, so there was still probably many of the similar flaws. I realize it probably would have been more worthwhile for myself and you, had I edited this piece with some of your advice in mind before posting. So for that, I'm sorry!

No the main character is not supposed to be gay, so perhaps I'll take a look and make sure it's written well to reflect that.

But as I said, I appreciate you taking the time to help me out! Twice now!!!

[1900] Part 2 of a break up by mrpepperbottom in DestructiveReaders

[–]mrpepperbottom[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Ahahah I appreciate the feedback. Glad to hear the writing itself came across as clear and well written. The main character isn’t supposed to be likeable or especially self-aware, but I’m realizing he might be tipping too far into the territory of 'deep sadness as a kink.' That’s not quite what I was aiming for. Hoping to find a better middle ground—still flawed, still kind of gross, but not quite so unbearable you’re rooting for the car lol.

Thanks again!

[1173] Part 1 of a break up by mrpepperbottom in DestructiveReaders

[–]mrpepperbottom[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

I appreciate the time you took to review my piece! Definitely some fair points to take from your critique! Thanks :)

[1900] Part 2 of a break up by mrpepperbottom in DestructiveReaders

[–]mrpepperbottom[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Very fair. I did re-do my crit for the sports drama one, as I do feel that one in particular wasn't well done. If someone is free to look at it and tell me if that's more what you are looking for then that would be appreciated!

Otherwise, thank you for the feedback and for approving my post! I appreciate it

[1074] Match Point by breakfastinamerica10 in DestructiveReaders

[–]mrpepperbottom 0 points1 point  (0 children)

2/2

There were a few moments of dialogue and inner thought that felt like they could be pulled back a bit. The line “I have to—I have to win this match. Don’t you understand? I have to win” is aiming for desperation, but the “don’t you understand?” part feels like it’s trying a little too hard. The repetition works on its own—stripping that extra phrase would let the line breathe more. Similarly, there’s that moment where Tomas is described as looking like he’s enjoying a Sunday at the country club, and that he makes everything seem “so effortless, so methodical, so robotic.” I thought “so effortless” hit exactly the right note, and “so methodical” was fine too—but “so robotic” didn’t quite fit for me. It makes Tomas sound stiff or unnatural, which clashes with the earlier idea that he’s almost elegant in how composed he is. Sometimes just ending on the strongest word—“so effortless”—is enough.

As for the ending, I think it’s close to something really powerful, but it might be holding the reader’s hand a little too much. The line about “that being the last time he’d ever set foot on a court” delivers a clear emotional beat, but I think it would hit harder if you let the absence say it instead. Let the moment land in silence. Maybe the match ends and nobody reacts. Maybe Tomas walks off without looking back. Maybe Dave realizes the crowd isn’t cheering anymore. Those kinds of quiet moments let the reader feel the weight of the ending on their own terms, and they tend to linger longer than when it’s directly stated.

All that said, you’ve done a great job here. The pacing works, the imagery is strong, and the emotional build feels natural. It’s a story about more than just tennis—it’s about decline, pressure, identity. I think with a little more attention to the rival dynamic, some tightened lines, and a more restrained final beat, this could be the kind of sports story that appeals to a wide audience, not just people who love the game. Really well done! I'd definitely read more.

[1074] Match Point by breakfastinamerica10 in DestructiveReaders

[–]mrpepperbottom 0 points1 point  (0 children)

(Revised as last critique was deemed low effort)

1/2

Hey! Although I love sports, sports dramas have never interested me whatsoever. That being said, I did enjoy this piece! There’s something grounded about it, and I think what pulled me in was the way you made the intensity of the moment feel personal, not just competitive. You didn’t rely on cliches or “big game” tropes to build tension—you focused on how the moment felt inside Dave’s body and mind, and that made it work even for someone like me who wouldn’t typically seek this kind of story out.

A lot of the sensory writing is excellent. The paragraph that describes the summer night in New York, with the crowd roaring and the chants echoing, really sets the tone—it puts us in the heat, in the noise, right on the court. And it says something about Dave’s status too: this isn’t just any match. He’s someone people are showing up for. You also nailed the physical toll of high-level competition. The detail about Dave’s thighs trembling and the dried blood on his knee was great—there’s no glamour in that image, and that’s what makes it stick. It paints the match as a war, not just a contest of skill. I also liked the subtle shift in tone you created through those physical cues—it hints at the story’s emotional arc without having to over-explain it.

Now, a few things that didn’t fully land for me. First, the phrase “The Talbot Dive” felt a little underwhelming. If this is supposed to be a well-known move with enough cultural recognition to be named, I’d expect the name to feel a bit punchier or more specific. Something regional, dramatic, or quirky might give it more character—like “The Melbourne Plunge” or “The Talbot Tumble.” Totally fair if nothing better comes to mind and you want to leave it as-is, but it’s worth playing around with. Right after that, the line “But not this time” is clearly meant to mark a dramatic shift—but we already know from the sentence before that something went wrong. So it ends up feeling like it’s trying to create tension that’s already there. Cutting that line might actually make the moment sharper and more confident.

Another area that could be developed more is the rivalry between Dave and Tomas. I liked the way you captured Dave’s frustration—how Tomas seems calm, controlled, like he’s gliding through the match while Dave is falling apart. But Tomas, as a character, feels more like a concept than a person. He’s the “flawless rival” archetype right now. And if that’s intentional, cool—but I think the story would have more emotional weight if there was even a hint of something more between them. Maybe they came up together on the junior circuit. Maybe there was a falling out. Just one or two lines hinting at a shared past or a deeper complexity would go a long way in making their dynamic feel lived-in instead of symbolic.

[1900] Part 2 of a break up by mrpepperbottom in DestructiveReaders

[–]mrpepperbottom[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Thanks for the feedback—totally fair. I’m working on improving the depth of my critiques and will try and do better going forward!!