#Can rant forever about how these two are just made for one another

[vividiana]

chapter 1

pairing: Astarion x f!Durge · word count: 4.3k

rating: M for now, eventually E (18+)

tags: modern AU, witness protection, strangers to friends to lovers (see AO3 for a more exhaustive list)

summary: It’s been over a year since Eve had to uproot her life and assume a new identity—anything to distance herself from the past she wishes she could forget. When an erratic, if oddly charming, newcomer stumbles into her place of work, she recognizes something familiar within him and the two can’t seem to stay away from each other. But Eve is not the only one running from her past. An alternative, modern take on the Dark Urge x Astarion romance, filled with friendship, secrets, healing, and ABBA.

a/n: IT'S HEREEEEE 📣 a huge thank you to everyone who hyped me up as I was working on this, you guys are the best 🫂❤️

the title is from "Like Real People Do" by our lord and savior Hozier

read on AO3 · dividers

Eve grips the edge of the sink, knuckles white as she tries to ease her breathing.

Only one more hour. One hour and she gets to go home.

Her shift started, rather unfortunately, with a birthday party: pushing together four tables, trying to keep up with the customers who constantly changed their mind about the order and deliberated endlessly on who’s paying for what and with what card, all the while their children were screaming for attention. But even worse was the mess they left, along with the few spare coins they tossed on the table as an afterthought, which somehow made her angrier than if they hadn’t tipped at all.

And then it was back to the usual, mundane torments of her job, the worst of which were the never ending comments that made her scream internally when the most she could do was a polite nod. She thought she would get used to them by now, but alas, the hundredth one was just as insufferable as the first. They were delivered by all kinds of people in a variety of tones, ranging from patronizing to objectifying to just plain stupid. They fueled countless rants that Eve’s roommate patiently listened to before noting that perhaps she should look for a job that doesn’t fill her with rage every single day.

The customers’ words echo in her mind on a loop, like a twisted Greatest Hits compilation.

“Why is a young girl like you slaving away in a place like this? Did you plan to be a waitress?”

“Why would you cover up that pretty neck with a tattoo? Don’t you know what it will look like when you’re older?”

“I’m surprised your boyfriend is okay with you working this late. I wouldn’t be, that’s for sure.”

“Does it cost extra for you to smile?” 

Managing to tear her thoughts away from this pity party, she looks up, wincing when she sees her reflection in the chipped mirror. The ponytails she hates but that, without fail and for reasons she doesn’t want to entertain for too long, make people tip her more. The makeup, just enough to conceal her dark circles and soften the edges of the scar running down her cheek, but of course not enough for people to notice she is wearing any, lest they think she’s trying too hard. 

And finally, the dragonfly tattoo lining her throat. The artist did a great job with the cover-up, but despite the quality of the craft, all Eve sees when she looks at it is the dagger concealed within the insect’s body, the ever present reminder that no matter how far she runs, or how much she tries to conceal it, her past will forever be carved into her skin.

She takes another deep breath, counting seconds as she inhales, holds, then exhales—one of the only useful skills she’s gained from her series of short-lived flings with therapy.

One more hour. I can do this.

Eve fixes her crooked name tag and heads out the door. She makes her way through the backroom into the kitchen, and perhaps the smell of grease would assault her senses were it not already embedded into her skin, hair, and clothes. 

On the center counter, she spots a tray with a ticket for booth four. Yes, booth four she can do. It’s largely unproblematic, if a little strange. She grabs it and heads out the kitchen, past the main room to a smaller side one with the bar, a couple smaller tables, and a line of booths. 

As she enters, she spots a man sitting by the bar, looking a bit lost. His hair is bleached so light it’s basically white. He’s wearing a t-shirt with a patterned sweater vest over it that’s a couple sizes too big and way too warm for May. He’s hunched over the bar counter, pen in hand, working fervently on something or other. 

She passes the newcomer and makes her way to booth four, featuring her favorite regular: an older man, wrinkled beyond belief, who arrives at 4 p.m. every single day. He always comes alone and without fail, orders the same exact thing every time: a plate of chicken tenders and a Dr. Pepper. No sauce, no sides. Just the chicken and the beverage. Eve stopped bothering to take his order months ago.

“Good afternoon, Sir,” she says, placing the plate in front of him. She opens the soda can and starts pouring it into his glass. “How are you doing today?”

“Fate spins along as it should,” he says in that trademark monotone voice.

“Mhm,” she hums, trying to think of a way to stall, so she doesn’t have to return to her other customers. “Did you hear there is going to be a thunderstorm tonight?”

“That may be so.”

“Right. Well, enjoy your meal then.”

“Thank you.” 

She scans the room, but seeing no one who looks like they need help, she fishes out the notepad from her apron and makes her way behind the bar.

The white-haired man doesn’t look up when she stands before him, seemingly lost in thought as he scribbles something in a journal in sweeping, messy handwriting. Through the scent of stale beer and fried food, she singles out a hint of his cologne—citrusy, fresh, and far more pleasant than anything the men frequenting this establishment usually wear, if they even bother.

“Hello, my name is Eve–”

He startles at the sound of her voice. There is a trace of panic in his eyes as he looks up at her, one that he instantly tries to cover up by straightening in his seat and donning a forced smile.

The moment their eyes meet, Eve gets the strangest feeling of déjà vu she’s ever experienced. There is something familiar in the creases of his smile lines, in the way his hair curls around his ears. It catches her off-guard, the rehearsed introduction dying in her throat mid-sentence. 

“I’m sorry, do I know you from somewhere?” she asks instead. 

The man instantly tenses up with a loud scoff. 

“Of course you would know me from somewhere. What else did I expect?” He gestures animatedly as he speaks, Eve blinking in confusion as she listens to his rant. “Are you one of those true crime freaks? Do you want an autograph or are you content with just standing here and gawking?”

Great. Just great. 

Exactly what she needed to top off this hell of a shift: entertaining a man’s delusions of self-importance. The True Crime Celebrity has to go into this month’s top three, along with The Alien Abductee and Mr. FBI-Poisoned-My-Cows. At least those guys were more polite.

“You move halfway across the country to finally get a break for once and– Fucking hell!”

He drops his fountain pen on the counter with a loud thud and slips his glasses off to massage his temples, eyes shut tight in frustration. A couple patrons turn their heads to glance their way, Eve’s cheeks growing hotter at the sudden attention.

And perhaps, after seven hours of being on edge, that was simply the last straw.

“Do not raise your voice at me,” the words escape her lips before Eve can think better of it.

The man seems genuinely taken aback and he opens his eyes, brows furrowed when he asks:

“Excuse me?”

“You seem to think you’re some sort of big deal. Sorry to burst your bubble, but I have no idea what you’re talking about. And no matter who you are, you shouldn’t speak to people that way, but especially not to those who handle your food and drinks.”

She didn’t mean it to sound like a threat, but she has no emotional energy left to dull the edge of her words. 

Maybe getting fired wouldn’t be so bad. Then I’ll never have to come back here.

For a moment he just looks at her wide-eyed, opening and closing his mouth a couple times. Eventually he clears his throat and puts his glasses back on, sounding genuinely embarrassed when he admits:

“You’re right, I’m sorry. It’s just– It’s been a long day. But still, that’s no reason to– I’m sorry.”

The anger pent-up in her body starts to dissipate at his tone. He sounds… tired. In a way she recognizes all too well.

“It’s been a long day for me, too,” she says. “Maybe we can try again.” 

She turns away and takes a couple steps along the bar, then returns with a polite smile on her face to say:

“Hello, my name is Eve, I’ll be taking care of you today. Can I get you started with something to drink?”

He chuckles softly and now that his face is more relaxed, Eve can’t help but think that he is quite handsome, in a manner that feels utterly out of place.

“Well, that depends,” he says. “Do the drinks come with spit or poison?”

“You’ve apologized, so neither. But you’re on thin ice.”

He scoffs, but there is no real edge to it. He watches her intently, a hint of curiosity in his gaze that she is not sure what to make of.

“So, do you need more time?” she asks after a moment.

“Time for what?” he asks, stumped.

“To order. Do you know what you want to order?”

Suddenly, as if a prompter whispered his lines to him, he remembers they’re in a restaurant of all places, and he is, in fact, playing the role of the customer.

“Ah, yes. Food,” he says, gaze falling upon the empty bar counter before him.

Eve sighs and retrieves one of the folded menus from a holder to her right.

“Is this your first time?” she asks, handing the paper to him.

“First time here?”

“First time in a restaurant.”

“Let’s say it is,” he chuckles, grabbing the menu from her. “What then?”

“Well,” she starts, leaning forward to rest her elbows on the counter. It’s a tad sticky, but she chooses to ignore that unfortunate detail. After all, the more time she spends with this fumbling, if oddly charming, idiot, the less she has to deal with the other, less-than-savory regulars. She unfolds the menu, trying to sound as patient as she can when she says:

“Here is the list of foods, here are the prices. Here, for some unknown reason, are the calorie counts, which I suggest you ignore, for the sake of your sanity.”

“Hm,” he hums thoughtfully, eyes gliding down the list. He looks up, a curious glint in his eyes when he asks: “So, what do you recommend?”

She doesn’t have a response at the ready, mostly because no one ever asks her that. Nothing, she wants to say, but with the final remnants of self-control, she dons her best service-industry smile, the one that says: I love my job and I haven’t been dying to go home.

“Well, that depends: how hungry are you?”

“Not terribly.”

She flips the menu over to their All-day Lunch selection.

“The club sandwich is a crowd favorite.”

“Alright. But what is your favorite?”

Eve looks up to meet his eyes, their greyish blue alight with amusement, and she can feel the edge of her lips tugging up into a disbelieving smile. She finds no hint of mockery in his tone, just sheer curiosity. He seems to genuinely care about her opinion, which is a rarity in this place.

“The grilled chicken panini is not half-bad,” she whispers, like she is revealing some meticulously guarded secret. 

“I’ll have that, then.”

“Got it,” she says, standing up straight. “And to drink?”

“Surprise me.”

“I can’t put a surprise on your tab. You do actually need to pick something.”

“Do you have diet cherry coke?”

Eve summons all of her mental strength to not roll her eyes at him.

“We have diet, non-cherry pepsi. Is that okay?”

“It’s a travesty, more like. But I’ll make do.”

“Great. One sec.”

She scoops some ice into a glass, then retrieves the pepsi from a small fridge under the bar. As she starts pouring it into his glass, she asks:

“So, are you visiting someone, or just passing through?”

“I actually just moved here a couple days ago,”

“Oh.” It’s not often that they see a new face around here. And certainly not one this good-looking. “In that case: welcome.”

“Thank you. I suppose I wanted to get to know the town a little more. Check out the…” his gaze wanders around the room, the flickering Coors Light neon signs, the truckers belly-laughing at one joke or another, “…local scene.”

“And how do you like it so far?”

“Well, so far you’re the only person in this place I’ve managed to have a half-decent conversation with. So yes, I suppose it’s alright.”

“Half-decent? You wound me.”

He smiles, but before he gets a chance to respond, Eve hears someone snap their fingers at her like they’re in a fucking Tarantino movie. She’s surprised they didn’t yell garçon!

“I’ll be back with the panini,” she says, and however, reluctantly, pries herself off the bar counter to attend to the obnoxious client at booth one.

The pace picks up, as it always seems to do when she is almost done with her shift. When she brings him the food, they exchange a couple more amusing if largely meaningless comments, before she has to go tend to her other customers. 

Eventually the man asks for the check and pays with cash. By the time Eve comes to collect it from him, he’s gone. Opening the tab, she sees two $20 bills and for a moment she’s convinced it must be a mistake, because the total was just over $17.

But then she notices a small ink stain on the thin receipt paper and turns it around to read a note in that same sweeping font: Sorry again for being a dick. Enjoy your weekend.

Eve chuckles softly and pockets the receipt on a whim.

When she’s clocking out 15 minutes later, she hears that grating voice behind her, the one that always manages to set her on edge.

“I saw you arguing with a customer.”

“That’s odd. I don’t recall doing that,” she says, not looking away from the keyboard.

“You know damn well who I’m talking about. The one with the glasses, dressed funny.”

Eve sighs and turns around to meet the man’s eyes. He’s a couple inches shorter than her, a fact he tries to make up for by puffing out his chest and glaring at her in a way that is presumably supposed to be intimidating. It’s funny, she thinks, how much of a power trip he gets from being a manager at a run-down place like this. She wonders sometimes what must be going on in his personal life that he’s trying to make up for.

“Oh, him!” she says with a forced cheeriness. “Well, he actually seemed quite pleased with the service, he left me a very generous tip. Did you hear any complaints? You know I would hate to leave a bad impression on a new customer.”

His lips tighten into a firm line as he watches her, and Eve is fully aware he has no arguments left. After a moment of tense silence, she nods politely before turning towards the exit.

“See you tomorrow, Wulbren.”

Eve frees her hair from the ponytails and runs her fingers through it the moment she steps outside. The afternoon sun cradles her skin as she crosses the parking lot and makes her way to Gizmo—her trusted 2012 Toyota Prius that has seen better days. 

It’s a fairly nondescript car, what with it being a Prius and a bland beige, but she has taken to decorate the inside with some personal touches. The back is adorned with two bumper stickers: one with the logo of her roommate’s youth soccer team, the Clinton Comets, and another that reads: “My other car is a 2006 Honda Civic.” It’s a leftover gift from the previous owner that Eve is too amused by to peel off, despite how worn and faded the lettering has become.

She starts the car, turning the radio off immediately—she listens to it enough at work and right now, she just wants to enjoy the silence. As she pulls out of the parking lot, she rolls the windows down to welcome in the fresh air, warmed with the promise of summer. 

It only takes her seven minutes to get to the elementary school. Surprisingly enough, she managed to leave at 5 p.m. sharp, so she still has some time before practice ends. She decides to park in the visitor’s lot and walk towards the pitch.

The shrill whistle reaches her ears, and as she steps up onto the mostly empty bleachers, she takes in the sight of 20-something children running around in navy blue uniforms, Lae’zel standing off to the side as she watches them intently. 

Her hair is immaculate as always, the upper half pulled into a near-perfect bun, her thick chestnut hair interspersed with small braids here and there. Despite the temperature, she’s wearing a matching cream-and-black Adidas tracksuit, the light fabric bringing out the warm hue of her skin.

Suddenly, there is a commotion as an argument breaks out between two girls. Someone missed a clear shot, or something of that nature—Eve was not paying attention. Others join shortly, the bickering growing incessantly loud.

A whistle cuts through the chatter and Lae’zel waves her hand in a beckoning motion.

“Mol! A word.”

The group immediately falls quiet and from the crowd emerges a short girl with russet brown skin, her hair gathered into a high ponytail. Her expression is sour as she approaches, like she’s ready to argue further.

Lae’zel lowers herself into a squat, her eyes leveled with the girl’s. From her seat, Eve can make out most of their conversation:

“You’re the captain, Mol. You need to act like one. If you don’t have faith in your teammates, then who will?”

The girl’s defiant expression melts into one of embarrassment, her gaze suddenly very focused on the tips of her cleats. 

She mutters something that sounds like: “I’m sorry, Coach.”

“Don’t apologize to me. Apologize to your team,” Lae’zel says, rising to her full height, which, admittedly, is not a lot. “Now, go out there and be a leader. Understood?”

The girl nods decidedly and runs back onto the field as Lae’zel blows the whistle, resuming the game. Eve smiles as she recognizes her gift: a silver whistle with the words #1 Coach engraved on the side. Lae seemed very flustered when she gave it to her, but Eve has never seen her go back to the plastic ones she’d used before.

The game ends 2:1.

Lae’zel makes some closing strategy-related remarks, then reminds the girls about the game next week with the team from a neighboring county.

“And remember that there will be summer practice available all throughout June, and then resuming in August. I’ve emailed the details to your parents. Any questions?”

When none arise, Lae gathers the team in a circle, and on the count of three, they erupt into a group cheer, accompanied by dance moves that look awfully close to the “Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes” song.

“UP, DOWN, LEFT, AND RIGHT, CLINTON COMETS WIN THE FIGHT!”

The group disperses, and as the children are gathering their things and getting ready to leave, Lae’zel checks her notes and says:

“Arabella, Yenna, and Ide, I still haven’t gotten those permission slips back. If you don’t want to miss out on the last game of the season, I’ll need them by Wednesday.”

“Yes, Coach Medina,” the three girls in question say in a practiced unison.

The pitch eventually empties out as the children leave, along with some of the parents who were waiting on the bleachers. Lae’zel is gathering the orange plastic cones from the field as Eve makes her way down to help her.

When Lae turns around and meets her eyes, Eve breaks into dance with unparalleled enthusiasm:

“UP, DOWN, LEFT, AND RIGHT, CLINTON COMETS WIN THE FIGHT!”

“Do you have a problem with our battle cry?” Lae’zel asks, trying her best to look unamused.

“No, I love it. It’s adorable and so, so corny.”

“The girls wrote it themselves. I didn’t want to interfere with their creative process. It’s good for team morale and their self-esteem.”

“Of course. You know I would never question your pedagogy.”

They pick up the last of the cones and as they’re heading to Lae’zel’s office, Eve says:

“Oh, you know what I just remembered?”

“What?”

“UP, DOWN, LEFT, AND RIGHT–”

“Keep doing that and I will evict you.”

“Oh, but then who would drive you around?”

“I’ll take my chances with the bus.”

Once they put everything away, they make their way back to the car and head home. 

“Are you doing anything tonight?” Eve asks as she turns onto the main road.

Lae’zel picks up her phone and then directs the screen towards her. 

“Her, if all goes well.”

Eve glances sideways to catch a glimpse of a Hinge profile. Jen, 25, the caption informs her. The girl in the photo sports heavy makeup and short bangs, her hair split down the middle with half-white, half-black dye.

“Pretty.”

But Lae’zel just hums approvingly in lieu of a response.

Before Eve can probe any further, her phone rings, and a message appears on the center screen: Call from: Wyll Ravengard 😎

“Hi Wyll,” she answers. “You’re on speaker. I’m in the car with Lae’zel.”

“Hello Lae’zel,” the man responds in his signature friendly tone. 

“Hello. Don’t worry, I’m not paying attention,” Lae says, not looking up from her phone. 

“She’s not paying attention, she’s busy texting a goth girl on Hinge.”

“Been there. Anyways, Eve, sorry to disturb your Friday evening, I just wanted to confirm that we’re still on for coffee, Monday at 4?”

“I wouldn’t miss it.”

“Perfect. And you remember that I scheduled that… consultation appointment for you at 2 pm that same day?”

Eve sighs softly. Another therapist. Agent Ravengard has been relentless in trying to find a good match for her. She’s pretty sure she’s gone through everyone within a 20-mile radius.

“Yup. I do remember that.”

“Mhm. And do you plan on attending?”

She pauses for a second, and then says, unconvincingly:

“I do.” 

“Lovely. Can’t wait to hear all about it over coffee.”

“Sounds delightful,” she says dryly.

“I’ll text you the details again, just in case. It’s up in Fairview, so about a half hour drive. You should have plenty of time to be back by 4.”

“Okay.”

“Alright then, have a wonderful weekend, Eve, and I’ll see you soon, yes?”

“Yes. I– Thank you, Wyll. I appreciate you.”

“Happy to help. Bye now!

“Bye, have a good one!”

The moment he hangs up, Eve lets out a pained groan. 

“You sound frustrated,” Lae’zel remarks, still typing. And when Eve doesn’t respond, she adds: “Maybe you should sleep with him.”

“With Wyll?!”

“Yes. You are attracted to him, are you not?”

“I suppose I am, a little. I mean, have you seen him? But no, that is either illegal or unethical or both.”

“I don’t see the issue.”

“Well, I do. Plus, not all of life’s problems can be solved with sex, you know?”

“It sounds like you just haven’t had great sex, then.”

“It sounds like you really want to walk home. I can pull over at any moment, just say the word.”

There is a moment of silence before Lae’zel asks:

“In all seriousness though, do you want to talk about it? This appointment of yours?”

“No. That’s the last thing I want to be thinking about right now.”

“Understood.” Lae’zel seems to ponder something, then adds: “I’m meeting her for drinks at 9, so I still have some free time. Do you want to pick up ramen and watch people be idiots on the Game Show Network?”

“Yes, please.”

Lae’zel calls the ramen place on the first floor of their building to put in their usual order. Once they get back to the apartment, she goes to pick up the food while Eve heads to her room to change.

The space is quite bare, especially in comparison to Lae’zel’s room, which is full of photos, trinkets, and memorabilia to remind her of home. Eve doesn’t have any of those, but she still tried to make her room her own, whatever that means. A couple plants line the windowsill, and her shelves are overflowing with books she thrifted: mostly non-fiction, with the occasional Stephen King novel tucked between her usual reads. There are plenty of lights, too: a salt lamp, numerous candles, and a cascade of fairy lights above her bed. Anything to not have to turn on the harsh overhead light. 

Before they sit down to eat, she wants to get rid of that ever-present diner smell. When she pulls her jeans off, a piece of paper flies down onto the wooden floors. She snatches it up, ready to toss it into the trash, when she spots the now familiar, swirly handwriting. 

Eve chuckles, remembering this oddly charming man, looking entirely out of place, who probably had an even worse day than she did, somehow. 

She unfolds the paper fully, straightening out the wrinkles, and heads over to the small desk in the corner of the room. There is a cork board above it with a couple ticket stubs from events she went to with Lae’zel and a few holiday cards from Wyll. It’s the closest she can have to a picture board, ever since she was explicitly instructed to never allow herself to be photographed.

She isn’t sure what propels her to pin the receipt to one of the empty spaces on the board. 

But it fits right in.

a/n: thank you for reading! lmk if you would like to be tagged when I update this, or when I post in general. have a lovely rest of your day/night, whenever you're reading this 💛��

taglist: @roguishcat ✨

[characteroulette]

I am literally so ill about how Apollo and Klavier are so perfectly foils and yet the same to one another

Their first trials ended in disaster!! They won but it didn't feel like it!! Phoenix using forged evidence to end things broke their trust in their work!!! They both vowed then and there to dig out the truth of their cases above all else!!

They had close ties to a murderer!! They both feel complicated love and hate for someone who was proven to be a petty murderer and nothing more!! They look in the mirror and see how their reflection is not entirely their own, how they took those habits and gestures learned from a murderer and still hold them in themselves!!

They're simple on the outside, complex on the inside!! To the point that they're so often misinterpreted!! Apollo is brash and anxious and desperate for connection, Klavier is a perfectionist and bold and desperate for connection!! They're the same and opposites!! They're each others' other half!!!!!

Gosh they make me so insane. They were made for one another and both summarily swept out the door. Aaaaugh

[makiquas]

Its Butchtober. Bear with me for a second as I rant about children's cartoon ships, butchphobia, the conditional acceptance of butches in sapphic spaces on the basis of desirability, and feeling erased as a butch kid.

It's so funny that I realised early on as a 2000-2010s teen/kid how a lot of so called "sapphics" of social media are really, really anti butch4butch, only by interacting with certain subsets of Catradora and Appledash haters. It may be flippant to connect butchphobia with children's cartoons, but you cannot deny it is there. We finally had two canon butch4butch and masc4masc lesbian animated ships. And the fandoms decided that the best possible reaction to this is to violently hate on the ships for bullshit reasons and write up masterdocs about how the butch character actually looks better with a femme character instead (in both cases–Rarity and Glimmer, who is arguably feminine but not femme, but that's a conversation for another day, how the SPOP fandom waters down gender identities for aesthetics).

This is not just about two cartoon ships; this mindset of seeing two masc lesbians and immediately going "actually they act like bros; but this BUTCHFEMME couple has real chemistry" comes off sounding really, really bad in 2024 when you have no idea how butch identity operates, outside of depicting us as pants-wearing sexually aggressive muscular women. Butches ARE bros, even the ones who kiss each other. Camaraderie and tomboyish swagger *is* a part of their life. It's not our fault you are too fanfic trope-pilled to read these interactions are sexless friendship bantering.

It's also quite concerning, given how there are only a handful of butch4butch books in the market, and almost all of them talk about the stigmatizing of relationships between two butches/studs/masc lesbians. There are many butch lesbians who themselves face internalized butchphobia because of societal standards and expectations of being turned into the "gallant" provider of femmes. Butch and femme are not always inherently complementary, butches can be attracted to other butches, there is no "natural order" model of lesbian/sapphic attraction and your thinly veiled butchphobia is really off-putting, given you guys don't seem to extend that same rhetoric to mascfemme ships like Korrasami or Caitvi, or femme-femme ships like Harlivy.

Here, I must mention relationships like Rei and Kaoru from Oniisama E, or Jess and Lupe from A League of Their Own, who have bucket loads of chemistry but still have some vehement antis only because both the lesbians are masculine. (What's funny is the new wave of lesbian Oniisama E fans are almost all Rei/Kaoru shippers despite the show putting them into two butchfemme pairings.) Something something to be butch4butch is to be failing the tests of palatability and desirability according to conventional models of societal norms. Forever.

Again, one may have valid reasons for disliking these fictional ships (what, I genuinely don't know). But it *is* weird that you guys can watch fifty white fem4fem sapphic shows in a year and read 100+ GL with the same feminine girlish blonde and brunette/pink haired archetype and not bat an eyelid, but conjure a world of made-up "platonic" dynamics just because you read every butch4butch interaction as fundamentally platonic.

A lot of you love to throw around Stone Butch Blues as a catchphrase to educate strangers on the internet about 1950s-70s blue-collar bar culture and USA butch femme history, but how many of you actually know that within the book itself, the lead character acts prejudiced and hates on another butch for being butch4butch? How many of you know that she apologizes to her friend at the end for her hateful remarks? Fun fact: when you ostracize a butch for not fitting into your butch-femme subculture aesthetic, you're no better than lesbiphobic bigots actually.

Anyway, here are some butch4butch resources if you are a baby butch4butch and feel alienated by these kinds of weird rhetoric in online and fandom queer spaces too:

Butch4Butch romance books

My Butch4Butch books masterdoc (**being updated regularly**)

Leo Wilder's Butch4Butch writing (18+)

Butch4Butch photography archive (insta)

Boyish² Butch4Butch yuri anthology (insta)

@milsae Butch4Butch artist (tumblr/insta)

This post is made by a trans masc butch of color. Terfs, racists, biphobes and radfems kindly do not derail or interact.

[suhkusa]

EGOIST SIDE STORY. — FOREVER

PAIRING. Sakusa Kiyoomi x f!Reader

CW. fast paced, fluff with slightest of angst

A/N. alt ending for sakusa lovers (me)

-> MAIN SERIES.

Sakusa doesn’t know if you remember him. If anything, he would be more surprised if you did remember him. It was just one interaction during your high school years after all. 

YEARS AGO. SPRING NATIONALS.

“Are you alright?” 

You look up from your seat. You had come to this stupid national volleyball tournament because your friend made you, but she’s off somewhere flirting with a man from another team. You had dozed off and you didn’t even realize Inarizaki was playing their last set of the match. 

Now there was this strange man in a volleyball uniform and a mask in front of you. Oh, he said something to you didn’t he?

“Oh, yeah,” you feel self-conscious under his gaze.

He looks away for a second before looking back at you. 

“Are you from Inarizaki?” 

You nod at his question. You can feel the awkwardness oozing from your presence. You feel sorry you don’t contribute much to the conversation.

“Well if you get bored, Itachiyama’s match starts on court C in like 30 minutes,” he nods his head at you before striding off.

There was something laced in his stern voice that you couldn’t quite put a finger on. Pity? Care? You didn’t really know. 

Ah. You should’ve asked for his name.

AT MSBY.

It couldn’t be. You couldn’t be. Fate was weird. You’re the girl from the Spring Tournament weren’t you?

“Y/N,” you extend your arm towards him, “Nice to meet you… Sakusa? Right?”

“Yeah, Sakusa,” he takes your hand and gives it a small shake before letting go.

He couldn’t help but watch you as you introduce yourself to every member individually. Couldn’t help how he noticed you tense and hesitated as you got to Atsumu. He tried not to think about it too much.

-

When you got too drunk and that whole thing with the guy happened at the bar, Sakusa only did what was right. Take care of you and help you.

But you looked ethereal. Honestly. Part of him feels wrong saying that. Even as you lay peacefully sleeping in his own apartment. 

He didn’t want to let himself fall for you. It felt unprofessional, and Sakusa was anything but. But he couldn’t help it.

And so any chance he’d get, he would try to slip himself into your life, little by little. Maybe you’d notice. Or if you didn’t, at least he would still get to spend time with you.

Imagine how excited he was when he found out you played the exact same games as him! 

But then you started to turn a foot towards Atsumu. Even after that fiasco of a yelling-match the two of you had? It stung a bit. He was definitely hurt. So Sakusa decided to distance himself. That was the only thing that he felt like he could do. But if you ever changed your mind, he’d be here. As a friend or whatever you wanted him to be.

Then the two of you took the fall of Atsumu’s actions together. At first he didn’t know that Atsumu was behind all of it, not until you joined a video call and ranted to him about it. He honestly just cared about you and your well-being. 

He was selfish. He was ugly and selfish because he was glad that Atsumu was finally out of your life and the two of you could go back to the way things used to be. 

“Atsumu- I mean Miya came to my house last night,” you say, your voice static-y through the phone.

His heart dropped. What happened? Did he apologize? Did you forgive him?

“Oh,” is all he can manage. 

“What? Oh?” you laugh, “Don’t worry, he just apologized and… And maybe I got emotional but nothing happened, I promise,” he can feel himself sigh in relief at the last bit of your sentence.

NOW BOARDING TO LOS ANGELES INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT. 

“Is that you?” Sakusa asks.

He can hear you struggle a bit, probably grabbing your bags. “Mm, yep,” there’s moving noises.

“Well, you have a safe flight, Y/N. Make sure you text me when you get to your room, okay?” Sakusa is sad. He hopes the two of you can stay in contact. 

“I’ll miss you, Omi,” you say, and he knows you know he hates that nickname. But if it’s you, he’ll let it slide.

“What? Don’t get all sappy on me now,” he says, “I’m going to miss you a lot more, Y/N,”

Sakusa swears he hears you sniffle a bit. 

“A-Alright, I’ll see you soon, Kiyoomi,” you say one last time.

“I’ll see you soon, Y/N,” he mutters, the line going dead soon after.

Fuck.

———

It’s scary how someone across the world can make you feel so loved. It’s been 2 years since you’ve left Japan. And every day since then, you and Kiyoomi have talked. Texted, called, video chatted, anything and everything.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t developing a tiny bit of feelings for him. But you couldn’t tell if he felt the same. Tones and emotions are so hard to read through a screen. For all you know, he could be acting as a friend and you’re just reading too much into it.

“I am coming to Japan,” you state, you can hear him shuffling on the other side of the call.

“Mm, hm? What?” he sounds a bit shocked, “for what?”

“The season just ended here, and I don’t really have anything to do. I’ve been homesick for the past 2 years, and I don’t think it’s going away anytime soon. Oh, I’d be there for just a week, though,”

“Ah, I see. Do you already have a place to stay? I can lend you the guest room?”

You think it over, but you don’t think you should consider the feelings you’ve been feeling towards him recently.

“We’ll see, thank you Kiyoomi,”

“Of course. When is your flight back?” 

“Next week,”

———

Next week became this week. Then this week became today. 

Apparently everyone wanted to come visit Japan because all hotels and motels were booked fully. That’s how you found yourself a taxi ride later in Sakusa Kiyoomi’s guest bedroom.

You had decided to keep your return under the wraps, not wanting any attention or big reactions, or… other people to catch wind. 

It was in the very beginning of your stay back home in Japan that Sakusa Kiyoomi proclaimed his love for you.

“I think I love you. Or well, I do love you, sorry,” he looks like he’s ashamed as the two of you sit in front of his fireplace. 

At first you just stare at him as if you two were sharing a normal conversation. But then the cogs in your brain began to turn. 

“Y-You don’t have to say anything,” he’s freaking out behind those still eyes of his. You can see it, “I’m sorry, let’s just.. let’s just forget about it,

“I love you, too,”

His head snaps towards you, “What?”

You feel tense under his gaze, unsure as to what your next move should be. 

“I- Sorry,” you scoot back, “I really do love you… You’ve been there for me for so long, even when that whole thing with him happened… I’m sorry it feels like it took me so long,”

His warm hand meets under your chin.

“Only forever, idiot,” he smiles at you. “I feel like I’ve known since the day you walked in,”

There’s tears in your eyes because you believe him. He really had been there since the very beginning. 

“Don’t cry,”

“B-But I have to leave in a week and-”

“Then that gives us a whole week to be with one another… if that’s what you want,”

A tear drips down your cheek. “Then we’d have to do long distance and I don’t want you to wait,” you look into his eyes with your glossy ones.

“I’d wait eternity for you, Y/N,” is all he says before dipping his head down to yours and welcoming your lips into his. 

You basically cry into the kiss, until the kiss gets sloppy and you’re coming onto him.

And maybe you gave all of yourself to him that night. And maybe every night after that.

The goodbye is bittersweet. You know the two of you will meet again, but are unsure when. Being deduced to only being able to communicate through your telephone is hard. Especially after all of your feelings were finally let out of the bag. The two of you know your love will keep you guys intertwined until you guys see each other again. 

When that is, is the only thing that’s uncertain.

PRESENT.

“Do you still like me?

“I think you know the answer to that, Y/N,” he says sadly, “all too well,”

A sigh escapes your lips.

“You know you shouldn’t, Atsumu,” you say, and it tears his heart apart. He thought this night

would’ve ended differently if he answered that way.

“Y/N, can’t we try again?” he pleads. Atsumu knows he’s beginning to sound desperate, but he can’t lose his grasp on you, not when he just found you again.

“Atsumu… I’m dating Kiyoomi,” 

You can visibly see his heart sink. It looks like he’s trying to find something to say, but all that comes out is silence.

You’re not sure what to do or say, letting the cool air blow against you. The awkward silence is broken when the doors behind you open.

“Y/N?”

“Ah, Omi,” you turn to face him.

“The guys wanted to take shots, did you want to join?” 

“Sure” you walked towards him before giving Atsumu one last glance back. “Did you want to join us—”

“Yeah- yeah, I’ll be there in a second,” the blonde mumbles.

You nod towards him before you latch onto Sakusa, he welcomes you into a tight hug.

“What were you guys talking about?” he queries.

“Oh, nothing, just… him stuff,” you offer a fake laugh.

“We can talk about it later if you need?”

“Yeah, that’s fine, let’s just get that shot, you deserve it after that win,” you wink at him.

As you walk off before him, Sakusa Kiyoomi gets hit with a wave of realization of how lucky he is to be with you. There’s so many ways this could have turned out, yet you chose him.

He can’t wait for you to come back to Japan, the two of you have been discussing you moving in with him and so much more.

He’s not telling you just yet, but he’s even planning a little trip for your guys’ anniversary. 

Sakusa is going to do everything in his power to make you happy. He’s waited all this time and he’s finally gotten the chance to make you happy.

To love you.

END. 

© all writings belongs to suhkusa 2024. do not repost or change.

[minus-plus-zer0]

Beauty Pageant Headcanons

♡ Genre: Fluff ♡ Pairing: Bakugou x Reader

You entered the U.A. Cultural Festival's beauty pageant, with Bakugou acting as your coach.

How the hell did this happen? Well, you both lost a bet with Ashido, that's how.

The girl ships you two pretty hard, and although she doesn't always say it directly, it's obvious from her behavior. She rigged the bet in her favor just to get you together like this.

Bakugou's livid, but you hold him back from committing murder. You're really good at keeping Bakugou out of prison, it's like your second Quirk at this point.

So instead Bakugou turns his attention to you, and he starts ranting about how it's not TECHNICALLY murder if they don't find the body, but you're not having it and you're really just fighting for Ashido's life here.

Ashido knows not to invest in life insurance, but instead to invest in YOU. That's why she's letting you deal with this while she scurries into hiding for the foreseeable future.

Anyways, you and Bakugou are stuck together. Lucky you!

He's blaming you for this, since he knew it was a trap by Ashido. But you were just too cute and sweet, too willing to go along with whatever Ashido was planning, and that's what got you into this mess. He's really trying to convince you to not defend her at every chance, like you do with EVERY Bakusquad member he attacks, but it's hard to find his arguments persuasive when her life is in mortal peril, so you dismiss his anger pretty easily.

He HATES having his anger dismissed, and this only makes him more pissed. You try to calm him down, like you always do, all sweetness and smiles.

You're actually not even 100% against the idea of entering a beauty pageant, so it was easier to convince you than it was to coerce Bakugou into even being here. He can't understand your giddiness right now, it's more confusing to him than Ashido's.

But Bakugou is yelling your ear off while you check out the various clothes available on the clothing rack. You're trying to find something real cute and your style, but there's nothing that catches your eye. You're still looking through the racks and you're a little worried nothing is gonna look good on you.

Bakugou notices you worrying and he criticizes a lot of the outfits available here. He's got an eye for fashion, given that his parents work in the industry. But he usually doesn't pay attention to fashion magazines, models, beauty pageants, it's all stupid useless shit to him. That's another thing you disagree on.

But you're a bit embarrassed about wearing any of these outfits around him, knowing he's so critical. Regardless, he's grabbing some clothes off the rack and pushing them towards you and directing you to the changing room to try it on. Shyness be damned.

You put on the first outfit he gave you, but it's showing a bit too much skin and you're wondering what the heck was running through his mind while he picked this.

He's telling you to show yourself already so he can judge it but you're no fool. You say you can check it over yourself haha, no need to see this and to embed it into your memory forever haha!

Well he doesn't agree. "Stop being shy and get over here!"

"Make me!"

He can't exactly do that, now can he? He's flustered at the thought.

"...Can you please come out? I won't fucking judge you, alright?"

'Please' is a rare word coming out of his mouth, and you're one of the few he tells it to. So you do as he asks.

You emerge from the changing area, wearing the outfit he picked. He's checking you out in a thoughtful and not creepy way.

"That one doesn't work," he says, paying no attention to your offended expression. "Try the next one."

This goes on for the next few outfits. You didn't know what he was looking for, but he wasn't getting it. To be honest, you weren't really fond of how some of the outfits looked on you either, which made the whole thing more disappointing. Your earlier giddiness is gone.

"Can we stop?" you ask. "It feels like I'm ugly no matter what I'm wearing."

Bakugou opens his mouth to speak, then closes it. He looks like he's thinking his next words over carefully. Then, the words fall right out of his mouth before he can stop them.

"You're NOT ugly. They're all gorgeous, but none of them are the best. We need the best to win."

You're shocked he just called you 'gorgeous', but he's shoving you back into the changing room before you can keep looking at his embarrassed face.

After trying on some more outfits and being repeatedly shoved around by a red-faced Bakugou, you emerge one final time. Still red, Bakugou is now grinning like a serial killer and you hope that means good things.

"Perfect." Bakugou's grabbing your hand and he's pulling you out of the dressing room. "We gotta go practice your routine!"

Before you can even comment on his reaction, you're at an adjacent private training ground for contestants. You're distracted by trying to get him all tomato-faced again. You're pinching his cheeks saying "Where did that other guy go? The one whose face could change colors? You looked so similar, was he your cousin?" but Bakugou's warding you off and telling you to work on your form.

You spend a few hours perfecting it until Bakugou's finally happy. By the end, you're questioning Bakugou about why the heck he even cares so much, but he's telling you that it's getting late and you both should shower and get some dinner.

Post-shower and dinner, you're looking around for Bakugou who's been avoiding you all evening. You're a little hurt. You text him asking him why he's ignoring you. He finally texts back, saying he's not ignoring you and to come over.

You're allowed into his dorm room, and he's waiting for you on the balcony. He's out here alone in the dark, with the balcony lights on and with nothing but his phone. His screen shows your texts.

You take a seat beside him and then pinch his cheeks.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"For avoiding me like I've caught a disease! Bakugou, I thought we were buddies?"

He's grumbling to himself. "I wasn't trying to hurt you, dummy."

"Then what were you doing?"

He's looking away from you and you're trying to catch his expression. Then, he finally meets your gaze, embarrassed but determined.

"I know you care a lot about this crap, and it'd make you sad if I didn't even fucking try to help out. It's not my fucking thing, but I'll make sure you win."

He looks a little torn before he says the next thing.

"Because I love you, alright?"

You're kissing him now and he's shocked, you almost wish you could've taken a photo of that cute flabbergasted face before he pulls you in by the collar, kissing you back. It's his first kiss and you stole it right from under him, and he couldn't be happier.

The big day comes. You've prepared as much as you can with your (now) boyfriend the night before. Ashido is nowhere to be found, she'll likely in the crowd somewhere.

You complete your routine as planned, it's very cute and it's very you, but it wasn't a crowd favorite. Nejire ends up winning anyways. Bakugou doesn’t get it, all he’s seeing is you after the contest is over, happy as hell he picked out that outfit for you because you look great in it as he's kissing you passionately.

To him, he still knows you're the best in his heart, and that's what matters most. He's happy knowing that he got you and that Ashido's days are still numbered.

You enjoy the rest of the Cultural Festival, and you and Bakugou make sure to find some private alone time now and again…

Until Ashido texts you, saying "So have you asked him out yet?"

[lawofangie]

Hello. I just saw your post about your manifestation journey while struggling with depression and I’ll probably just be another rant about “how difficult it is to manifest”, but honestly I just want to talk a little bit.

I’m at work right now. I’m a trainee in a law office and my relationship with my boss is deteriorating gradually.

While I was at school, I would always think that I would be happier at a job, because I like to feel useful and competent. But now that I have a job, I just feel miserable.

I already received complaints twice about “being distracted” and “not doing my best”, which came as shocking because I’ve been doing my best. I have two bosses and while one looks like she really appreciates me, the other one might be the contrary.

I always fails to do what she wants me to do.

So I have been having really tiresome dreams. I had one where they asked me to type a document and after a while it turns out it was a “you are fired document” and asked me to sigh it.

They laughed and said that “I wasn’t doing enough” and “I wasn’t attending my classes at college” which I WAS but it didn’t matter.

I actually can’t imagine my life better. It’s like my mind just blocks it from me. I feel like I can’t delude myself even if that’s what I want the most.

I really want to just escape and live happily but I just feel trapped and miserable. I think I can predict what you are going to advice me but…I just don’t know what to do. I’m scared.

this is actually kind of relatable. i've felt similarly at many points in my life, i struggled to function, i thought external things would make me happy, applying the law was difficult. i couldn't imagine my life any better either. i understand where this is coming from, i'll try to give less generic advice, but i'm going to be brutally honest, and, this still won't be anything special. its important to remember that regardless of what i say here, manifestation is still just assuming you have your desire and persisting in that fact.

anyways, it honestly gets to a point where you have to realize that you're just wasting your time feeling trapped and scared. you're doing yourself a disservice. no one and nothing can save you, nor is anything or anyone going to. as unfortunate as your circumstances are, you have to do it yourself.

you have to take what you want and prioritize that above how you feel, anyone's made you feel, and how anyone feels about you. your life is meant to revolve around you and no one else. its YOUR life for a reason.

you SHOULD NOT waste the best years of your life being miserable, feeling like a failure, like a victim, like you can't change, like you're trapped like this forever when that's completely illogical. everyone and everything changes. people change in age, appearance, personality, sexuality, preferences, etc. it's physically impossible to be incapable of change unless you're not alive. people change all the time.

you genuinely do not have the time to be so self loathing and miserable, not when you're going to literally grow old one day. and according to those who've made it there already, that day comes fast. do you want to look back at your life at 80 and see what you wasted it doing? when all this information was right in your face? when all you had to do was take a chance and have some faith in yourself?

changing yourself isn't impossible, you're just too scared to assume anything good about yourself, perhaps because you've gotten so used to being miserable. "changing yourself", by the way, just so we're clear, simply means to assume something new about yourself. for example, you already believe you are a failure, and to change would be to simply assume you're successful. that's quite literally it. you just believe in something without physical proof, that's assuming. we assume all the time. you're just assuming about yourself now. the law is extremely simple to utilize, but it's the simplicity that leads to people overcomplicating it themselves.

also, delusion is, by definition, a false belief that is resistant to change, even when presented with evidence that it is not true. an assumption, by definition, is a belief that is taken as true without proof or evidence. you need to realize the difference here. we are telling you to assume, not to delude yourself. we are promising you that the "proof" comes after you've fully accepted it as true. we're not telling you to actively deny something despite accepting it as true. what would be the point in that? if we're telling you that your assumptions, aka the things you believe to be true without proof manifest, why would we tell you to continue to accept something you don't want as true? does that make sense?

being delusional and making an assumption may seem similar in theory, but in practice, they are completely different. one is literally the result of a mental illness, the other is a very normal, very human behavior that we do every day. we make assumptions about ourselves, people, and situations. all. the. time. it seems like it's only a problem and called "delusional" when it's about yourself, and it's something good.

it's like being confident in yourself, believing in your abilities despite what others have to say about you. for example, you have a great confidence in a talent or skill, and the you believe that you will get better as you get older/more experienced/more knowledgeable, and you'll make it places and have great opportunities in the future. let's say some random person decides to insult you and say that you'll never make it anywhere in life. would it be "delusional" to not listen to them? to not let someone else dictate your future? or would that simply be having some faith in yourself and not letting others define you?

this is literally all we're telling you to do, believe in yourself even if your reality seems to be against you. don't fight it, just accept that the unfavorable isn't true and move on. continue to believe in yourself.

and besides, if any person successful to date operated with that "i don't see it so it's not true" mindset, they wouldn't have become successful, would they? would anyone accumulate any kind of success with a mindset like that? the people who have came from nothing and made it to where they were now, had an unwavering confidence in their abilities and the fact that they'd be something one day. despite what anyone's told them, or tried to project onto them, it didn't get through to their unwavering sense of self.

the point is, we are promising you something. all it takes is for you to have some confidence in yourself. to quit hurting yourself. is that so hard?

anyways, the point of manifesting is when you change yourself, the things in your external reality change.

assuming is easy. believing things to be true without proof is easy. you just have to get comfortable with the fact that you need to change before anything changes externally. again, instead of believing you are a failure, that you are trapped, you simply assume you are successful, and you are not trapped.

people also change their minds all the time, they grow to have a different opinion, they realize they were wrong, they want to give something else a chance, or without a reason, they simply change their mind. these things are not impossible, they happen all the time.

i'm saying this to say that manifesting isn't being delusional. to be delusional is feeling stuck and like things can't change, when they so clearly do, all the damn time. you're not special enough for the concept of change to not apply to you. for instance, you are certainly not the same person you were when you were 6 compared to however old you are right now. you changed, therefore you are capable of changing, and i proved it to you with that simple example.

you only feel stuck because you decided you are, you decided that you'll never be unstuck, and so you haven't been. the law is working, just not in your favor. everything you see in your reality right now, perfectly matches whatever you've assumed to be true. that is not a coincidence. it's important to remember that the law isn't a thing with feelings, it does not care about you or your situation. all it does is continue to operate. it's up to you to use the law's indifference to your advantage.

also, you seem to have a victim mindset. it's very obvious in the way that you try to explain yourself, that you were doing as you were supposed to, but it still 'didn't matter'. you're putting so many things (your job, your bosses, proving yourself) on a pedestal, over what really matters, which is yourself. do you even like your job? did you pursue something you were passionate about? because if not, then you have no business subjecting yourself to any kind of mistreatment, not when you didn't even want to be there in the first place. you should be putting yourself and your desires before even thinking about pleasing anyone or meeting any kind of requirement.

your own standards and requirements should come first. remember : you chose to work for them. you have a choice. you also need to remember that your bosses and colleagues are regular people. outside of work (and in the workplace if we're being honest) they have no kind of power over you. you shouldn't be letting such irrelevant people in your life have the power to instill so much fear in you, to the point where you're having literal nightmares.. about typing a document incorrectly.

also, about feeling useful and competent, that's something you have to decide about yourself. are you useful? are you competent? do you honestly feel this way about yourself? definitely not, which is why you're seeking validation from others. but at the same time, it is what's made you so miserable, because you're definitely not getting that validation. and any you get only gives you a short lived feeling of satisfaction. your opinion on yourself matters more than what anyone has to say. that's literally why confidence and insecurity exist. and either way, you still feel a certain way about yourself that outweighs anything anyone has to say about you.

here's another example, let's say you've been insecure about your looks from a young age. if one day, someone randomly tells you you're beautiful or they think you're pretty, is all the insecurity you've felt for years suddenly going to go away? or will your mind find reasons to reinforce the fact that you don't feel beautiful? and if someone confirmed your insecurities, saying you weren't their type, they didn't find you attractive, wouldn't you just justify that reaction in your mind since you feel that way about yourself already?

with that in mind, how much does anyone's words really matter? do the words of others honestly have any significance when they aren't reinforcing something you already believe about yourself?

your reality works in a similar way. whatever you decide to assume/ accept as true/ shift your awareness to/ decide is true/ feel is certain, your reality will reflect. as well as a bunch of reasons to continue believing whatever it is is true. the law is very indifferent and has no bounds. it does not care about your feelings, your specific circumstances, and so on. that's why i'm telling you, you only feel these ways and experience the things you do, because you decided you were. this goes for being miserable, being stuck, feeling useless, feeling incompetent and living in fear. there are no exceptions.

so, with all that said, what do i suggest? first off, you need to practice being secure in yourself. work on being confident in yourself first, then work on your self concept. i say "confidence" as in feeling secure in yourself within the 3d. so, your looks, your body, your social skills, your physical skills, etc. because "self concept" has to do with having confidence in your manifestation abilities. find a helpful method that works for you, like affirming, visualizing, scripting, rampaging, or just simply deciding something new about yourself and accepting it.

self confidence has to do with things like liking yourself, being your own validation, having optimistic thoughts about yourself, and self efficiency. you can't care about what others think, you have to put yourself first, and you can't let anyone dictate your future. be selfish. the only thing that should matter is you and how something makes you feel. nothing bad comes from putting yourself first and not worrying about others.

once you feel confident in yourself, or even while working on your confidence, practice using the law. you could start by manifesting something small, something specific that would prove to you that you can manifest, then work your way up. manifest bigger things or just a large quantity of things, just to prove to yourself that there aren't any limits. remember, manifesting is just assuming: believing something to be true without proof. i mean that in the most literal, simplest way possible. like the example of success i used earlier.

once you've proven to yourself that manifestation is indeed real, play around with it. also, work on your self concept. decide that things always go well for you, that you deserve good things, you're the creator of your reality, learn to mentally reject unfavorable things in the 3d, and so on. this is what i would do if i were you.

i know this was kind of long, but i hope you understand my words and find them useful. feel free to dm me or send another ask if you have anymore questions. 🩶

[cdelphiki]

I submitted my final project yesterday, and took my final exam today, and now I'm officially done with this stupid class and this stupid certificate forever. Lmao. Stay tuned for my rant about how frustrating this experience has been for me, if you want:

I'm so annoyed with this class, because the professor was so frustrating. She didn't grade a single thing I did all semester until FINALS WEEK. She also didn't open up the instructions for the final project until she told me I was done with it (we had teams meetings so she was just verbally telling me what to do). She told me that the instructions for writing the abstract are in the project module, and I was like... what project module? When she finally opened the module and I was able to actually read it, I found that my final project she had just approved as being ready to submit didn't meet the minimum requirements? And when I asked about it she said "yes those are the minimums." LADY? DO YOU HEAR YOURSELF? YOU JUST SAID MY PROJECT WAS DONE??? It was 5pm on Friday, the last day of finals week when she did this, BY THE WAY. I had been working on the project all week, I'd put, like, 30 hours into this damn project already. And she couldn't have been early on like "hey there's a project module" so I could have even KNOWN there was supposed to be a module I couldn't see? This is after all semester long I was emailing her asking 'where is this reading, where is this lab' etc etc because she just simply didn't upload stuff or release it as the syllabus stated she would. I had to ask her for things weekly that should have just been there in the course material. Oh yeah, and those instructions for an abstract? Not in the project module. I just wrote an abstract how I think it should be. Then her exams she writes are just.... she really needs to use grammarly. Some of her exam questions made ZERO sense, because it just wasn't proper English. English is her second language, so I understand why it happened and do not judge that, but I do not find it acceptable when this is a graduate level class, in English, and you mark me wrong if I don't answer the question correctly? Just run the question through grammarly. The final exam had instructions that were like 'for essay questions write a response between 75 and 100 words, this is open book, you can talk to your classmates but your answer must be your own," and that was the instructions. Then 20 of 26 questions just had a single word as the question? Like, what do you want me to do with this? Define it? Explain it? Give an example of it? All of the above? None of the above? And she had one question that I SWEAR said "give three (4) examples of...." like?????????? and another question said "name the three types of...." but there are FIVE types of that thing?

Anyway I went to eviscerate her in the course eval and learned it closed yesterday but I wasn't done with the class yesterday so I was waiting. Oh well. My complaints will be kept to myself. She has strong suits. She's very nice, and when she actually responds to my messages (oh yeah she ghosted me the first half of this last week, when I was working on the project. I was submitting drafts to her via email like she asked me to do and she just simply didn't respond until Wednesday.) she's pretty helpful. I also DID learn a lot in her courses, and in this program overall.

The entire certificate program is sorely lacking, tbh. The first professor I had was also my advisor, and he would just flat up not respond to my emails. I don't think I'm too needy, I tend to get my work done on my own. I asked him the answer to a final question after the final was due and grades were posted, and he didn't reply to me. Like, okay dude. That's kind of rude. It's your job to teach me and I think I'm doing well by actually trying to learn what the correct answer is after the fact? Whatever. The second two classes were this same lady twice, and all my complaints about this semester can be applied to last semester, too.

Overall, I'm very glad my work paid for me to attend these classes and it was not coming out of my pocket, because if I was paying as much as work paid for this, I would have been in the dean's inbox every single semester with my issues lmao. I WILL be a Karen if it's warranted. Not grading *any* of my work until after the semester is over is unacceptable, not providing material on time is unacceptable, having exams that are indecipherable is unacceptable, etc etc. The list goes on. I didn't get my midterm grade until the final exam was open to take, also. If I as a student am expected to keep up with deadlines, my professor, as the professor, should also be expected to keep up with deadlines. (all within reason and with allowances for true problems, ofc)

[ninja-confession-go]

Long rant about Jay (not a hate rant quite the opposite actually)

I hate that they got rid of Jay's mechanic/inventor traits as time went on. And instead of just bringing those traits back they keep introducing characters to fill In that role.

Like Im sorry but why are 3 of the 4 gals apart of the main group into mechanics or deals with tech in someway??? Why is Wyldfyre the only gal who doesn't have an interest In tech????

Nya, Sora and Pixal all fulfill essentially the same tech role and while that's fine as they can easily fulfill different aspects, my issue is WHY NOT BRING JAY'S SKILLS BACK THEN?

They r clearly not afraid of multiple characters fulfilling similar roles so why was Jay the only one who's mechanic skills were stripped away?

Like his skills were so important in the earlier seasons he helped out so much and even got the bounty for fuckin fly?? Like his skills in machinery was also a reason why wu chose him too so to strip that away just makes no sense?

Like I'll forever be salty about this, his intelligence in machinery was so interesting to see especially when u consider the comedic kinda of character he's supposed to be. They could easily made him the mad scientist type of inventor/mechanic but they just hate fun and whimsy and would rather he be just comedic relief and nothing else I guess.

THATS ANOTHER THING

I hate how they treated Jay like he was stupid in later seasons too. They really dumbed him down instead of being the smart comedic relief he's the dumb comedic relief and I HATE it. bro literally deals with mechanics and made shit from scraps if there is one thing he ISNT, is stupid.

Like if they had just made him, let's say not emotionally intelligent i could understand. This is my own personal headcanons coming through, but i don't think he was around many other humans aside from his parents and occasional mail man growing up, and while i dont think he means to come off as a jerk, he tends to say shit without thinking it through as we have seen ALOT and that could be chalked up to him dealing more with machines than people. So If they had just focues on his lack of emotional intelligence, THAT I could understand and would have been fine with. Obviously this is more my own headcanon coming through but u get the idea

But they just made him more all around stupid and I just find that so hard to believe.

I hate how none of Jay's backstory has been explored too.

They introduced a mind shattering revelation that Jay's adopted and proceeded to do...nothing with it.

WHYYYYY???

It would have been so cool to explore that but no, it gets no mention or focus at all aside from that random coversation betwen Unagami and Jay in the season that absolutely should have been a Jay season but for some reason wasn't. Like why bring it up then lol

I also hate that all of Jay's conflicts tend to involve Nya. Like I know they yin/yang but cmon bro, not every conflict Jay goes through has to focus on his relationship with Nya. Let this man get SOME interesting characterization that isn't based around Nya CMON

I saw a few posts on here talking about Jay's characterization and I just had to jump In with my two cents cuz it's crazy how they brutalized him in later seasons. The Fandom tries their hardest to keep the mechanic aspect of Jay alive and I appreciate that so much cuz it's a crime they got rid(or forgot or whatever) of it later on

If u can't tell I'm a Jay fan who's mad their fav was done SO dirty LOL

.

[tan1shere]

Motel Whore

Ellie Williams x female reader !

A/n: ahh you guys after awhile its finally hereeee. Sorry for the wait life's been hectic and I'm not doing the best right now :( going through a pretty difficult breakup that's quite honestly tearing me apart but I hope you guys enjoy this!

Summary: You and Ellie started a fwb. But you want more. She doesn't see that nor notice how you've been acting. You're just her. Motel Whore. (Yes this is based off of the song Motel Whore by Nessa Barrett!)

Warnings: smut, angst, just sadness. Ellies a bit of an ass. Jealousy, slightly rapey Ellie if ya squint. We won't pay attention to that cuz we all know she's a sweetheart and wouldn't do that. Suggestive language. Like always MDNI

Masterlist

Pt 2!

It was just one night. Turning into two. Turning into a week. Months. Almost a year and you still don't know how you're here. Doing this with your friend Ellie. You always thought it'd be easy, the whole friend's with benefits thing, just a simple fuck then leave. You had no feelings for eachother. Wrong. It was the complete opposite. You started getting more attached as the weeks went by. But you had agreed to her request. 'No feelings involved' and 'this isn't a forever thing' you and Ellie were both single.

And you had agreed that it was a good idea to do this until you could fill that void. On the first night you two had slept together you had told her you were sick of being lonely and having to get off by yourself. You said it mindlessly just ranting to a friend. Until she came up with the idea. You were getting in too deep and you had no idea what to do about it.

You were currently at your friends, Dinas. To be exact. A mutual friend of you and Ellie. She had no idea about your secret life with her, no one did for that matter. It was hush hush. That was another agreement that you both made at the start. But secretly. You wanted the whole world to know. Why? You honestly couldn't even answer that. Because, you had no clue yourself.

"Hello, earth to Y/n. I'm talking to you babe." She blurts out, snapping you out of your thoughts. "Oh yeah, sorry." You mumble. "What's up, you seem off." You shake your head. "Nothing, I'm fine." You give her a reassuring smile. But knowing how Dina was she didn't buy it one bit. She was going to pry, but knowing you'd tell her eventually she let's it go.

"Right well, I asked if you wanted to go out for dinner on Saturday." You look straight at her. Fuck, you were suppose to be meeting Ellie. You always did on a Saturday. Or whenever one of you needed a good fuck. "Uhmm, can we make it Friday?" You try to negotiate. She furrows her brows. "I'm going out with Jesse on Friday, he has a date planned." You flop on the bed. "You guys are so cute." She laughs at the pout on your lips. "You'll find it. Trust me. It may even be close you never know." You scoff. "Doubt it." She then thinks for a moment. "Sunday could work?" You smile at her. "Sounds like a plan."

It was now Saturday you were just driving to the motel of this time. Ellie would always text you the address of some crappy motel. It was never the same one, but if it was it would've been months since you went. Where you lived there was a shit ton of em around. So you rarely ever had to visit them twice. You get out of your car and go up to the number she texted you. "Room 147." You speak, going to knock on it, guessing she's already there.

She opens it welcoming you in. You follow, immediately being kissed by her, she was desperate, and honestly so were you. You always can't wait to see her on your planned days, even when they aren't you can't wait to be by her. "God I missed you." You let out a giggle. "It was only 2 days ago since we last did this Ellie." You smile at her as she takes her hoodie off. "Yeah. 2 days too long." She continues to kiss you. Making you let out a soft sigh into her mouth. "I want to ruin you angel." She'd always call you that during these moments.

You were quite different from most of your friends, you would dress with whites, baby pinks, golds, just any baby color really. You weren't super girly and childish but you had this aura about you that was ethereal. Honestly angelic. Ellie fed on that. She was the complete opposite. She loved fucking you senseless, ripping you apart so to speak. She adored how soft you were. Although you weren't completely innocent. This was the most you've done with any body. You always would do stuff to yourself. But what Ellie didn't know. Was she was your first.

"Ruin me Els.. please." You needed it. You craved it. And she loved that. She loved having you completely under her control. She moves her incredibly soft lips against your neck, putting your hands in her hair gently tugging at her locks, making her groan against your skin. She leads you to the bed getting ontop of you, starting to move down your now naked body. You were panting, it was getting hotter in the room. Both of your bodies radiating heat, making both of you going mental for one another. "Gunna dick you down sweetheart." And she did, just that.

It was now after and like always she was getting dressed immediately. You were always left sitting there, feeling sorry for yourself. "I've been meeting up with some other girls that I've met recently for a quick fuck and I'm meeting one of them right now." She states as she puts her jeans back on. You felt something brew in your stomach. Was it jealousy, disgust? "Oh, I see, well have fun." She grabs her keys. "If you can't be bothered going home, I booked this room out for the night so you can just stay here if you'd like." You look at the bed sheets contemplating your whole life right now. "Right." She then leaves not uttering another word.

Room 147.

Just for the night.

Said I was heaven.

That's without saying goodbye.

It was now a Wednesday. You had been in your apartment just tidying up a bit you could not stop the thought of Ellie. It was intoxicating. And you couldn't quite tell if that was a bad or good thing. You tried to take your mind off of it, but this was all slowly getting to you. You knew what you signed up for. But at the same time it's like she's doing it on purpose. You needed your brain to just shut up for a quick second. Then you got a stupid. Stupid idea. Thinking itd help.

You shook your head. It shouldn't hurt the way it does. You're not even dating her. But oh how it did. The image of her tattooed hand rubbing up some other girls thigh. It made you want to physically puke. But you needed to stop that feeling. You were both single. You had no rule over her. Which meant neither did she. Maybe you should go out more find someone else. You just shake your head again, waiting to see how later pans out.

Later came round slow. You'd been feeling off all day. You don't know why this would make you feel better because honestly you always felt like shit afterwards. You felt used. Even if you wanted this it just felt worthless, were you wasting your time? Should you just call it quits before it's too late. What if it is too late. You were already at the said motel, sitting on the bed waiting. She then comes through the door, looking like she's in a rush. You furrow your brows at her. "Sorry stayed a bit longer." You just nod. Knowing it was one of the girls she's been doing it with alongside you. "You alright love?" She asks as she takes off her jeans. It felt wrong. This all felt so wrong.

You lie. "Yeah I'm good. Just really bored Els. Needed you." What are you doing. Why hurt yourself like this. She smirks, getting on the bed with you. "Yeah baby? How badly hm." She leans closer to your face inches away. Leaning down to kiss you, you relish in it. She begins taking your clothes off, leaving you in your specifically picked out lingerie. It was red, with lace, and silk. You'd hope that maybe this will get her to notice you as something more. See you in something as special. But oh boy were you. Wrong. Making you feel even more stupid as she takes it off, no comment, no nothing. You felt cold. And not because of the fact you were naked. You felt icy, inside and out. You felt that pukey feeling again.

And just like everytime you two fuck, she was up and about to leave again. "So uhm where are you going?" You ask, knowing the answer but still asking regardless. "One of the other girls." You nod. "Do any of them know about me?" She looks up at you, your figure still on the bed. "No. No one knows about this. And that's what we agreed on right?" You nod, looking at her. "Have fun." Your response was cold. Cold like your body.

Am I just a secret.

You love to hide.

Turn off your location when, you come over late at night.

You were currently out with Dina, doing your usual girly shopping, trying on all sorts of clothes and shoes. "Hey what do you think of these pumps?" She asks. You nod. "Suit you." You say bluntly. You don't particularly like the mood you've acquired over the last few months, but you had yourself to blame for that one. "Ok what is up your ass girl. And you are telling me this time." You sigh. "Nothing Dee I'm just not in a good place right now." You softens her look. "Please just talk to me. I'm worried about you babe." You hated that, you never ever wanted to worry. Or upset anyone, at all. "Promise to talk to you in future." You give her a smile. "You better." She winks at you.

"Right anyways, positive vibes. I saw this cute skirt that was definitely you. Wanna go try it on?" You nod smiling genuinely this time. You continued to do this, going around the stores when you got a text.

You absolutely hated yourself for getting into it. You should've stopped sooner but you just can't. And you still don't know why. You couldn't keep treating yourself like this it's time this ends.

You arrive at the motel that she mentioned. Knocking on the door, quickly getting tugged in. She's immediately kissing you, your lips, your neck. She slides her thumb over your bottom lip. You let out a breath. "Ellie-"

"Shhh. I need to fuck the shit out of you angel. Need it." You just nod, giving consent but not fully in the mood for this. You're so stupid. What is wrong with you, you're so blinded. She takes your clothes off, getting you to lay on the bed, but she thinks for a moment. "Uh uh, ass up." You look right at her. "Bu-" She flips you over, going to grope your ass, your face hiding in the pillow. She attached her strap, without any thought pushing into you rough. And hard. You let out a slight gasp.

"Fuck. I needed this." She mumbles, watching as it goes in and out of you. "Using you as I please." And for the first time in all of this mess, you felt tears, hot well needed tears. You're so thankful she couldn't see your face. But it truly hurt. Usually those words wouldn't get to you. But it's how you've been feeling. Used. Abused. In a mental way. It was hurting. Every little bit of it hurt. This feeling wasn't at all good, you just wanted it to be over. So. You faked your orgasm. And like always it ended with her leaving and not uttering a word. You were still faced down in the pillows pretending you were sleeping. Although you don't think it made much difference. You just couldn't look at her. Not with your makeup stained face. From the tears.

Check in check out.

One night stay, you're out the door.

You treat me, like a motel whore.

[teaboot]

Your post about art vs content got me thinking about the differences between the two. To me there is no difference besides the mindsets. One is of creator and the enjoyer, the other is content and consumer it removes the personhood, the joy/emotion, from the equation. Like a writer or video creator may not see their work as art so content creator maybe a way to refer to themselves comfortably but it sounds so machine, emotionless and lifeless, like a cookie cutter recipe mass producing something verses people lovingly crafting something...then again Disney uses a cookie cutter recipe for the most part and it brings out bangers cause people lovingly make it their own so maybe I'm thinking too hard on this

Does my long-winded rant make sense?

see, I get what you mean, but I still feel like the willingness to entertain calling art of any kind "content" reduces it to the facet of consumption where in reality, the experience of consuming art is not the sole defining trait of it.

Reducing arts like music, writing, painting, dance, voice acting, theater, etc. to the role of "content"- a thing created to be consumed, measured and valued by how pleasant or easy it is to digest- I feel that it was our biggest red flag to herald the incoming tide of AI "art".

Because if art is "content", if arts are nothing but consumable matter, then obviously the key to success is to produce as much soft, tasty, edible paste as we possibly can at the lowest possible expense.

It's the same issue I have with "meal replacements", diet culture, nutrient slurries, twenty-step skincare routines, 24/7 body padding and shapewear and laxative teas and "grind culture". It's not a cause, but a symptom, of the disease that is late-stage capitalism.

Things must be produced at low cost and remain in high demand forever. Things must be perfect and palatable and the new hit trend forever. People must pay hand over fist to consume without asking anything in return, and if they start dropping like flies at the unending unrewarded thankless demand of it all, then that must be treated as a weakness. We should all take pride in how much we can spend, pay, give, produce, and think as little as possible about what we ask for ourselves.

So, who cares if, of two identical paintings, one was made by a person and one was made by a computer program? It's the same work, so what does it matter? What does it matter?

I am an artist. I make art. I ask a question, make a statement, declare something horrific or challenging or upsetting or wrong or grotesque, and when you respond, we are together experiencing a conversation. We are existing, two people living one life and reaching out and touching across time and space. No matter the work, you're at the barest minimum saying, "I'm alive, and you're alive, and at one time or another we shared this same world, and at the end of the day we aren't too terribly different. My heart is worth sharing, and your heart is worth the struggle of understanding."

An AI-generated piece, a computer-generated voice, a CGI puppet of someone long since dead and gone, they cannot speak. They have no voice. Ay best, they are the most chewable, consumable, landlord-beige common denominator possible that you can sit and listen to like the lone survivor of a shipwreck listening to the same three songs on a broken record, and at worst, they're the uncaring vomit of an empty, unloving, value-addled hack wearing the skin of someone I know over their own.

When you abandon art to say that you make content, that should not be a point of pride. That's an embarrassment. That's not sitting down for an intelligent discussion with an equal, that's kneeling at the feet of the crowd and saying, "what do you want to see me do? I can be anyone you've ever loved. I can be them, I can be anyone, as long as you love me."

I can make content. I can be consumed. What do you want to consume? I'll make myself consumable. I'll make myself just like anything you like. And I'll make so much of it that you'll never have to go anywhere else, because it'll all be right here, and under all the cut-and-paste schlock you've seen before I will sit alone in the dark and the silence and I will know that I am safe, because I am valued, because I am desired, and I need to be desired or else I am worthless like a factory that no longer churns out steel or a hen that no longer lays eggs or a cow that is too old to make milk.

Content, the most literal meaning, is something which is contained inside a container. What it is doesn't really matter, and the best it can hope to be is something worthy of being scooped out and used.

Art is an experience that transcends value. Art is something you can eat without paying for. You can make it out of anything and anyone can do it. It can be crude and vulgar and bad, and that's a strength because it means something. It always, always means something, and it doesn't matter if you like it or not. It's not content because it doesn't fill anything. It's a living, breathing thing, and whether you want to birth it or eat it, then you're going to have to be willing to put the fucking work in

[rottenpumpkin13]

......... so could we perhaps get a bit of genzack? just a few things to chew on? :3c

Sorry this took forever, but I woke up this morning and went "I GOT IT!" so it is now time to be not normal about GenZack 🥳

The way I see it, Zack is bright and sunny, but there's something volatile lying dormant beneath his positivity, just as Genesis is composed but hiding a lot of bite beneath his dramatics. They bring out the raw and ugly parts in each other, but they also share the same dreams and lust for life, creating a tension that neither knows quite how to handle.

"one thing leads to another" in an AU where it's 2004 and nothing bad has happened, and now they're:

• Golden Retriever Boyfriend x Black Bird Boyfriend.

• Comic books boyfriend x classical lit boyfriend. They absolutely get each other to give their favorite books a try, and it usually ends in "this comic book dialogue is rubbish" paired with "how am I supposed to read this? It doesn't even have pictures??"

• Quoting famous Poets x quoting cartoons. It's Genesis quoting fine poetry and Zack countering in his own way, then Genesis pretending to be annoyed but secretly he's hiding his smile behind his wine glass.

• Zack hyping Genesis up when he gets dressed up, proudly (and loudly) showing him off— he'll whistle, he'll sneak an arm around Genesis' waist, and keep repeating "doesn't Genesis look look awesome?? He's my boyfriend, you know :)" to literally anyone who'll listen.

• Zack pays attention to even the smallest things Genesis says X Genesis taking everything Zack says seriously.

• Financially irresponsible boyfriend x rich boyfriend who buys him things.

• They spar aggressively, and Zack wins frequently. Zack has a knack for catching Genesis off guard during training. After one sparring session, Genesis began complaining, and then Zack to threw him over his shoulder and ran off laughing, ignoring Genesis' protests.

• Genesis calms Zack's ADHD spirals, like when Zack gets overwhelmed or restless, Genesis sits him down and reads to him while holding him gently until he settles down. Zack tends to fall asleep in his arms.

• Zack matches Genesis' dramatics, except to him they're completely valid concerns, he doesn't brush them off and lets Genesis rant to his heart's content because he may or may not look really hot when he's mad.

• In fact, where Angeal or Sephiroth might disprove of Gen's temper, Zack empathizes entirely. Once, when Genesis ranted about a perceived insult, Zack grabbed a hammer and said "just say the word!" which managed to completely disarm Genesis, who's anger dissipated into laughter.

• I think the sweetest part of their relationship is Zack working hard to understand Loveless, reading not only the books but Genesis' annotated notes. The look on Genesis' face when Zack counters one of his tirades with a flurry of Zack-ified opinions is priceless.

• Genesis makes it a point to make the first two letters of every word of the emails he sends Zack bold, because he learned bionic reading is easier for people with ADHD.

• Their shopping trips are a blend of Genesis selecting fine wines and artisanal cheeses while Zack tosses in energy drinks and chips. It's Genesis' "Do you need six types of gummy worms?" Vs. Zack's "As if you're gonna use that truffle oil!"

• Their fights can be intense and explosive, with their opinions often clashing. Genesis thinks Zack can be too naive while Zack thinks Genesis can be hard-headed. Although Zack is usually the one to end the argument by walking up behind Genesis an hour later, right before bed, and pulling him into a hug.

Genesis: What do you think you're doing, Puppy? I'm still mad at you. Zack: Okay cool, but can you be mad at me in bed while you cuddle me? All that yelling made me sleepy. Genesis:

[rygujis]

⊹˚. ♡ [11:26 PM] mikey x f!reader . 365 wc . not proofread, crack sorta, cute domestic fluff, mikey is a cutie patootie, cursing (y/n says shit once)

you would never admit it to anyone else but mikey, but you have a soft spot for cheesy christmas romcoms. every year, when the holiday season comes, your go-to background movies to watch while you work or even to sit down and actually watch are always those dumb hallmark movies.

"they are all the same. city girl gets a job promotion that requires her to go back home to the south for awhile, and she falls in love with a country boy and ends up staying. and every single one of them makes me cry at the end." you've been going on about the christmas movie cliches, and mikey is intently listening.

only so that you'll continue to feed him taiyaki. if he zones out or quits paying attention, you'll just hog the bag, so here he is.

as you go on, one of said movies are blaring in the background, as you and mikey lay in your bed, covered under 3 blankets and 2 comforters. this winter was an intense one, and you needed all you had to warm up.

"n/n, that's lovely, can you feed me please?" he asks before opening his mouth. "you little shit, did you even pay attention to what i was saying?"

"yeah. you were talking about the dumb movies and how they make you cry. "

you roll your eyes, reluctantly giving him another taiyaki as you continue, "no bozo, i moved on from that, like, forever ago. i was talking about how the other day this gu-"

mikey loves to hear you ramble on, and usually he's just as chatty as you are, but, it's past his bedtime and frankly the two of you had been laying in bed cuddling so long it has begun to lull the boy to sleep. plus, that mug of hot cocoa you'd made him earlier played a big role in his drowsiness. "g'night..." he mumbles, still chewing the taiyaki, his head falling into your lap.

"goodni- wait no! i'm not done-" as he cuts you off with a quick, chaste kiss, your rant finally comes to a close as you smile, petting his hair as you too start to doze off.

mikey is so cutr shshhssh. i would've made this longer but im tired aaaand yeah

[thisismeracing]

King of my heart | extras | Yn meets Corinna and Gina

― Summary: Yn and Mick are still threading through their feelings, none of them yet aware of how deep it is. Their families are quick to notice, though. ― Word count: 1.3k ― A/n: This can be read as a stand-alone, but it’s better when you’ve read the series. ― Warnings: mention of food; typos - not proofread.

⁕ see my masterlist | my taglist | KOMH Masterlist ⁕ you can support my writing by reblogging, and leaving a comment

Some of the Mercedes crew are getting together for breakfast on Thursday before the non-stop running worsens. That’s how Yn found herself running through her morning routine, a tad late for the original time Lewis scheduled them to meet at the hotel restaurant. She ran for the elevator when she noticed the doors were about to shut.

“Hey, wait, please!”

She sighed in relief when the blonde inside the metal space held the door for her with a smile.

“Thank you so much. The other elevator is closed for repairment, and it would take me forever to get to the restaurant, my brother is blowing my messages pissed because I’m already late,” she ranted, fishing her bag for her room keys just to make sure she didn’t forget it on her room. “I’m ranting, sorry by the way. And thank you again, I’m Yn,” she finally looked up only to find Mick’s carbon copy in front of her. “Oh-” 

Gina chuckled, “It’s no biggie. I’m happy to help. I’m Gina, by the way.” 

They shook hands and Yn bit her lips unsure of what to say or how to act. It was Mick’s sister. She just made a fool of herself in front of Mick’s sister. He mentioned that maybe she would join this racing week, but they haven’t talked about it again, so she thought something had come up. 

“Yeah, you’re Gina. I- mhm. You probably hear this a lot, but you look a lot like Mick,” Yn couldn’t hold back and Gina gave her another smile. “Actually, no wait- HE looks like you, he mentioned he’s the youngest,” she corrects herself and the Schumacher chuckles.

“You look a lot like Lewis too. You’re the youngest like Mick, right?” 

“Oh,-” she seemed surprised.

Gina explained, “Mick mentioned you. And well, you do look a lot like your brother.”

Mick mentioned her.

To his sister.

To his family.

“Yeah, yup, we’re both the younger siblings.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“You too. He talks about you a lot. As much as I talk about Lew, I imagine. Two proud little siblings,” Yn pokes with a smile, finally relaxing a bit. 

“Are you ready for this week’s race?” Gina asks when the elevator pings and the doors slide open. They start to make their way to the restaurant area while chatting about how they think things will go, and when they reach the entrance they’re quick to find four pairs of eyes watching them.

Lewis, Anthony, Corinna, and Mick are sitting all together at a table close to the big windows. The place looks great with all the lightning and their table is starting to get served. Two spots sit empty. 

“Hey,” both girls greet when they get close and Yn’s eyes find Mick’s to share a small smile.

“You two know each other?” Lewis asked, and Gina shook her head, then quickly nodded.

“We just met at the elevator.” 

“Yeah, she held the door for me.” 

“Well, you got in just in time. They’re serving us already.” Corinna smiled after silently watching her son’s reaction when Yn got in. 

Mick was quick to introduce everyone, and he felt all warm and mushy when Yn took one of the empty chairs right by his side. She was between him and her brother, and though it took some minutes for her to finally start comfortably talking, the second she did the whole table engaged on the topic. Gina seemed to love her, taking the way they got here together excitedly talking, and his mom was happily telling Yn and Lewis about a trip she made, while she sipped her coffee.

“It took me some time to get used to all the traveling, but the food and the sightseeing always made up for it,” Corinna stated.

“Oh God, totally! And the people too, most of the time they’re always so warm and excited. A fan gave me a friendship bracelet last GP,” Yn held her wrist up showing the colorful bracelet.

“Awe, this looks cute! I once got a personalized cowboy hat, it blew my mind. Everything was so perfectly made,” it was Gina’s turn to add before biting on her sandwich.

“What’s a friendship bracelet?” Anthony, the Hamilton’s dad, asked curiously and Gina turned to his side to explain.

Mick took the opportunity to rest his arm on the back of Yn’s chair, turning slightly to watch her happily munch her food. She feels his eyes on her, and swallows her food, before stretching her lips into a small smile. Yn doesn’t look at him when she does, but Mick knows the smile is directed at him, and he loves how bigger it gets when his thumb accidentally bumps into the exposed skin of her shoulders. 

Seconds pass before she sips her juice and finally turns her face in his direction the slightest. 

“You didn’t tell me they would be here, I made a fool of myself in front of your sister. I was so embarrassed,” her voice is low, and though she tries to pretend, there’s a hint of amusement on her features. 

Mick looks ahead, bringing his coffee to his lips, “I forgot. I’m sorry. But she liked you, I can tell.” 

“I’m a very likable person, thank goodness.”

“Yes, you are,” his response comes with a long stare between them, and Yn tries to tell herself there’s nothing there. That this is totally the answer a friend would give. They’re good friends. Great friends. They hit it off quickly. Mick was sweet like this with everyone.

She turned her attention back to the table, smiling at something her dad told Gina, and turning to ask about the sugary vegan potions to her brother. 

“I got a slice of their vegan pudding last night, and it was delicious, you should try it. You like chocolate?” Corinna asked and Yn clapped.

“I love chocolate! I’m totally asking for it,” she shared. “You’re vegan too, Mrs. Schumacher?” 

Corinna huffed with fake offense, “I already told you, you can call me Corinna.”

Yn nodded, stealing a piece of strawberry from Lewis's plate, “I’m sorry,” she said to the older woman and Lewis rolled his eyes, flicking his sister’s ear.

“You’re the worst,” he took back from her plate and Corinna chuckled at the siblings’ interaction. 

“So, you’re vegan too, Corinna?” Yn asked again.

“No, but I do love some vegan receipts. I always order one here and there whenever I can.”

“We have a chocolate chip cookie receipt, we’ll share it with you,” Lewis mentioned and Yn nodded. 

“Yeah, we created it. It’s on the family for years,” her deep nod and overly big smile made Mick snicker. 

“What?” Gina asked.

“She’s joking,” he explained.

“We got it from Google when we were fourteen,” Lewis told Corinna, and the Schumacher couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Yeah, but we added our touch to it!” 

“They burnt four batches before getting it right,” Anthony exposed the duo and the table erupted in laughter. 

And so the morning went on with lots of food and smiles. 

When they left, Corinna turned to Mick with a knowing smile.

“You like her,” she stated, clicking the button to their floor and watching the elevator doors close.

Mick scratches his neck, turning into a rosy color, “Mama- she’s- huh. I-.. Don’t you like her too? I haven’t found a person who met her and didn’t like her, she’s so- I don’t know. She’s a great friend, though we don’t know each other for so long.” 

Corinna grinned, “Yes. She’s amazing, and I like her. But you’re about to realize that you like her a lot more than you’re letting on. I saw the glances, saw the interaction. I know my kids,” she states proudly because indeed she knew Gina and Mick like the back of her hand. Sometimes, she was able to notice things about them even before they did. 

“Aweee, Mick, you’re in loveeee!” Gina teases, and Mick can’t help but chuckle and roll his eyes.

“I’m not in love.”

“Yet,” Gina corrected.

“Or you just haven’t realized it.” 

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[ominus-potato]

Just asking how do you feel about smg34?

Prepare for a long rant lol bc oh boy do I have opinions on this.

I like the ship, don’t get me wrong, but they’re just really god damn boring for me. Not quite as boring as Melony x Axol but still very vanilla.

It’s just a typical enemies to lovers trope which is so overdone now. They aren’t even enemies anymore. Just frenemies. Let’s face it, they’re never going to be canon. Their relationship will forever be teased but I will be VERY surprised if the SMG4 team actually follow through with them. The moments are nice but it’s just fan service.

2023 was an amazing year for SMG34 and it showed a real development in their relationship with IGBP and Wotfi 2023. But honestly, outside of a few teases, I really don’t think we’re going to be getting any concrete development for them for a while.

Without development, they really are just textbook enemies to lovers and that trope just doesn’t interest me on its own. Especially when they’re past the enemies phase but not quite lovers. It feels like they’re just eternally stuck in this weird grey area that only exists for the sake of fan service and I just couldnt care less about that kind of stuff.

Especially when SMG34 fans absolutely loose their shit about them standing next to each other when they’re the two characters who have had the most development out of everyone! Like bro. The SMG4 team are just fucking with you lot and you eat it up every time until it becomes the whole focus of the entire show!

Like, a side character could appear that we haven’t seen in a year and I just see countless people complaining that “ohhh SMG3 wasn’t in this episode!” Or “Ohh why didn’t SMG34 interact!” But if they DO interact then everyone just completely brushes aside the side character to just fawn over the thing that has more content than anything else!

Oh and god forbid you say you ship SMG4 or SMG3 with someone else. This is mostly directed at the TikTok SMG4 community but bloody hell it’s so annoying.

“NOO SMG4 LOVES SMG3! NOT MARIO!!”

“*SMG3 comes in to steal SMG4 away from Peach*”

“Hmm but I like SMG34 :(“

LIKE STFU THIS ISNT ABOUT THEM! I posted a video dedicated to rarepairs bc I love rarepairs and want to bring more attention to them and I got way too many comments about SMG34 when they are by far the most popular ship in the fandom.

And don’t get me started on the Snowtrapped jokes.

Fuck. Ing. HELL CAN WE PLEASE GET A NEW JOKE?

“Ha ha they did the boombaya in an igloo”

“Snowtrapped 2.0 when??”

“They need to remake Snowtrapped.”

The obsession some fans have with that episode just bc SMG3 and SMG4 had sex in it is honestly just irritating at this point. There are so many good episodes about their relationship! To show their development! One joke every so often is fine but for some people it’s every other word out of their mouths and I’m just sick of it.

What if Mar4 shippers just started going:

“Haha Wotfi 2014!” Over and over again. Or some of the other episodes where they are insanely homosexual with one another. Bc I’m telling you, way too many people brush over the Mar4 tension in the earlier episodes.

In conclusion, SMG34 is that ship you start to ship when you first join a fandom bc it’s cute, there lots of content for it, and it makes sense. A lot of people hold onto that first ship but for me, I end up finding dynamics that interest me a lot more. Now, I only really interact with SMG34 content if one of my friends has made it bc I just struggle to get excited about it now.

If ever there’s a moment in an episode that’s cute, instead of enjoying it, all I can think about is how a scene of SMG3 and SMG4 standing next to eachother is going to completely destroy any actual conversation about the episode.

I don’t hate the ship. I do like it. But it’s just so basic.

I’ll take a rarepair over SMG34 any day.

[axtivaqe]

Life is strange Double Exposure is NOT canon

So its been getting around that Chloe isn't gonna be in Lis DE and I have never been more devastated in my life. Deck nine said they were going to respect the 2 decisions that players could've made, yet they practically said "fuck you" and took Chloe out of the picture. I just don't understand why though, like 50% of the fanbase picked sacrifice Arcadia bay and it was mainly because we are huge pricefield shippers (idk about y'all but I am). And their not stupid, they know about the pricefield ship and how much people wanted to see Chloe and Max in another game. They literally said they were going to follow through with the original games and the 2 decisions at the end, but then they completely scrap the idea of Chloe and Max being together, and they didn't even want to tell us. People had been asking about Chloes role in DE since the game first got announced, so why would they leave our questions unanswered for so long? It makes no sense on their behalf and its js overall bad marketing, They made it out that Chloe left Max because she didn't want to do long distance, but thats not Chloe at all. Chloe is the girl who dedicated her WHOLE journal to letters for/to Max in before the storm, Chloe is the girl who wrote "and she probably has all new friends up in fucking Seattle, i still miss her. if she came back tomorrow and said "hey Chloe, want to dress up like pirates and be stupid together?" i would take her back in a heartbeat." after she hadn't seen or spoken to her for 3 years, Chloe is the girl who told max that they would last forever and that she would never leave her. They completely mischaracterised her and made the whole sacrifice Arcadia bay option pointless, they spent 10 years together and Chloe throws it away because she cant do temporary long distance? Thats not like her at all. I see people saying "its realistic though, a relationship built from trauma isn't healthy" and it really annoys me, like yes their right, but thats in the real world, its a game about a girl who can jump between realities which isn't realistic at all. And don't even get me started on the rumour about Chloe flirting with VICTORIA.

But the game still isn't out yet, I mean we only have the first 2 episodes and I'm not sure if all of this is confirmed (if it is how do we know when we only have the 2 episodes?) or if people are just taking the 2 episodes and their story line, and then putting the pieces together. I was having a convo with someone in the comments under a yt video by Cucu on Games about how Chloe will be in DE (the video was made 3 weeks ago before all this info came out) and we both thought that maybe Chloe will come back into max's life in one of the last episodes, maybe she misses Max and hears about what happened with her friend Safi and comes to see her and reconnect with her, because surely Deck nine, a huge game company who know what their fanbase wants, wouldn't use false advertising by making us think Chloe is gonna be in the game only to scrap that idea after saying they wanted to respect and follow the two choices players could have made.

Its a really controversial opinion and I've seen a few people say it makes sense and its part of Max's character development, but Id say most of the fanbase isn't happy about this whole thing. I mean of course I'm happy to be able to see Max in another game, and we're lucky to even be getting another lis game. But to make us think we're going to see Chloe and then let us find out that we aren't is just bad marketing. If they never intended to have Chloe in the game then why wouldn't they answer everyones question, 'Is Chloe going to make a physical appearance?' (they would've 100% seen people asking because their social media pages are flooded with the one question about Chloe) Lmk what you think tho, and if you made it all the way through this then thank you for taking the time out of your day to read this long ass rant 😭

[amiizuki]

it will be forever funny to me how the flashback portraits of Wittebrothers made Caleb seem like he's had packing peanuts for a brain

(this post ended up becoming quite lengthy, and so did the tags somehow, because I kinda devolved into a rant closer to the end of writing this whole thing, so bear with me here)

so we know that Philip and Caleb became orphans when both of them were still kids. after that, they ended up in Gravesfield and, to fit in with everyone else who lived there, picked up witch hunting and started thinking that witches are pure evil. Caleb knew perfectly well that he's the only family Philip's had left and that he even may be his his only friend, since, judging by the portraits, they've only ever hung out with each other and we don't know if those two ever made any other actual friends.

until one day, during a witch hunt he and Philip were both a part in (something Caleb seemed happy to do, judging by his smirk there), he met a witch – Evelyn – someone he's been taught to hate and want dead by the townsfolk. someone who, again, in his mind, should be evil.

but he just suddenly does a 180 and goes "damn, you can make fire with your hands, you're actually pretty cool"

and then a few days (?) of talking to her later, he's running off to live with her in the Demon Realm, while simultaneously not giving a single fuck about the brother he's abandoning.

(he even runs off with a smile, with a literal :D face, I fucking can't lmao)

Philip ends up seeing Caleb get dragged off through a weird portal and later follows along, thinking something like "no, my brother wouldn't just up and abandon me without saying anything. he probably got captured by that witch we saw together that one time! she probably used some demon magic to bewitch Caleb and took him through that portal to kill him or worse! I gotta go save him!". and, after spending god knows how long in that realm, searching endlessly for his missing older brother, he eventually finds him. but he also finds that Caleb is not only perfectly okay and not hurt in the slightest, he's also peacefully walking together with the same witch who "captured" him, even holding hands with her.

and when enraged Philip tries to attack Evelyn, to protect Caleb from the witch who took him from his home, from his brother, still thinking that Caleb's under her control, Caleb just... gives him a hug and goes on to introduce the witch as his new wife to him (I'm assuming that portrait is the same day as the other three, if not the same scene), also adding on top of that that they're having a child. all as if nothing happened. treating the whole thing like everything's perfectly okay and just another normal day, fully ignoring the fact that he threw his brother away with no care or thought, leaving him completely alone, a full orphan, now with zero actual family left (in TTT, during their backstory, it's said that "Caleb did his best to take care of his younger brother", meaning that either they never got adopted in Gravesfield, or whoever adopted them didn't give a shit about the two, so they still mostly had to fend for themselves), all to go smash some random 5 out of 10 witchussy he talked to, like, 3 times. no fucking wonder Philip killed him!

(btw, jokes aside, it didn't seem like he intended to kill Caleb, because in that portrait where he's ready to kill with a knife in his hand, he's facing forward, while Caleb is actually to his left. so it just looks to me like Philip was gonna try to kill Evelyn again, and Caleb either jumped in front of her to protect her and got accidentally stabbed or he attacked Philip back, to, again, protect Evelyn, and Philip ended up winning that fight. but that's just my theory)

my brother in literal christ and literal titan – why in the FUCK are you just hugging it out with a smile on your face??? you ran off while giving absolutely no warning to anyone, especially your younger brother! why do you think he's here and actively trying to attack you and your new wife? you're not even trying to address the fact that you left him! at least when Luz ran off to a different realm without warning, she had a "I'm still at the camp" cover, so Camila wouldn't worry that much about where her daughter is, and even then she still felt bad for leaving her mother and planned to go back home once summer was over. this chucklefuck, on the other hand, just permanently portaled away to the Boiling Isles, knocked up a witch and fully settled down there, walking around with a big ol' smile and no care in the world. "Philip who? never heard of him"

the only thing that would sorta make this situation seem better (as in, not make Caleb seem like an overly naive ignorant brick), in my opinion, is if they added one more portrait – after the one where he meets the witch, but before the one where he leaves. in that portrait, Caleb would look like he's trying his best to convince Philip that witches aren't actually evil, and perhaps even try to get him to go live with them in the Demon Realm, all the while Philip's looking at him with either disagreement/disappointment/disgust or just rolling his eyes and full on ignoring him, while sharpening his witch hunt tools or something. then it would look like Caleb at least tried to make his brother change his mind, like he tried to offer him a chance to go with them. but no. with the way the portraits look in the final version it just seems like Caleb was fully on-board with killing witches since he was young, even pulling his younger brother along to think the same way, Philip also thought that Caleb was perfectly fine with killing witches, but once he actually meets a real witch (assuming they've never met one before) he instantly pulls an uno reverse card and just runs off with her, without so much as telling his brother beforehand.

I'm not trying to say that "Belos should've been redeemed, because he's the victim here and Caleb is bad and it's all his fault". he still murdered his brother and went on to manipulate everyone on Boiling Isles for centuries, with his end goal being the death of all witches, while simultaneously being stuck in the loop of "denial" and "bargaining" stages of grief – repeatedly trying and failing to recreate a perfect copy of Caleb, but also killing each one that came out wrong or went against him. Belos not being redeemed in the end was the right choice (ignoring the "Belos was always le bad" from King's dad), I agree with that. frankly, if he actually got redeemed in the end, I'd probably be seething for the next 3 to 5 years, like how I did after the Diamonds' "redemptions" in SU (yes I'm still pissed about that lol). I'm just saying that, from what was shown to us, Caleb didn't seem like that good of a person either, not as bad as Belos ended up being, but still not that great. and, once again, seemingly had a raisin for a brain.

(off topic, but during Masha's retelling of Wittebane's backstory, their "sounds like big bro got a hot witch girlfriend and little bro got upset" line was so fucking cringe, it gave me a fever for 3 days the first time I watched the episode)

k, rant over, I dunno what else to add

TL;DR: I think Caleb was dumb as a brick, because, from what was shown to us in their backstory, he seemed to have run off to Demon Realm and abandon Philip without telling him anything beforehand. when Philip came to BI to look for his brother, who he assumed was under control of the witch who "took" him, since he thought his last living family member wouldn't just abandon him, and when he eventually found him, and it turned out he wasn't in any danger at all, Caleb just brushed the whole "I left you for witchussy" thing under the rug and pretended everything was and is perfectly fine, even though it clearly isn't. rip bozo