#but we can't pretend these are the SAME THING

[autolenaphilia]

The actual problem with terf ideology/rhetoric in queer and feminist spaces

Part 1: actually defining the problem

The thing about "terf ideology and rhetoric" is that it is actually an extremely widespread problem among queer people. Like the transandrobros say that constantly, and taken literally, they are completely correct. The problem is that they don't know what terf ideology and rhetoric actually is (or pretend not to), and are actually extremely guilty of it themselves.

The transandrobros use "terf ideology/rhetoric" to refer to transfems doing basic feminism and talking about patriarchy and misogyny. They occasionally use "baeddel" or "tirf" when they acknowledge that transfems are doing it, saying we're doing "terfism but for transfems" as if that is a thing that could exist. That's because functionally, terfism is cis women using their cis privilege to give a feminist ideological justification to the genocide of transfems, transfems have no transfem privilege to do the same to other marginalized groups.

Of course, that's because the transandrophobia people because of their own transmisogyny deny the transmisogyny of terf ideology, and have no definition of terf beyond "feminist that i dislike", or terf ideology beyond "man-hating feminism."

And of course, things are bit more complicated than that.

To put it simply, terfism is not talking about misogyny, that's basic feminism, but talking about misogyny as "sex-based oppression." It is a feminism that accepts patriarchal society's reification of the two sexes as an unchangeable natural biological fact, and views it as the origin of patriarchy. This type of feminist ideology is called cultural feminism, and from that naturally comes transmisogyny. Trans women are because of this bio-essentialism by definition "biologically male", and not real female women, thus can't experience real misogyny that comes from having a womb, but merely gender-based oppression from being gender non-conforming males.

(Historian Alice Echols who popularized the term cultural feminism made a distinction between it and the US-american radical feminism of the late 60s and early 70s which rejected the sex binary, but even in Echols history of US second-wave feminism, more or less everyone who has called themselves radical feminists since 1973 are cultural feminists, a movement which grew out of and replaced the original radical feminism)

And while open terfs or "gender critical radical feminists" have the most obvious, most virulent, most openly genocidal form of this ideology, this kind of thinking is ubiquitous in a softer form even among ostensibly trans-accepting feminists and tme queer people. Cultural feminism took over western feminism in the early 70s, and hasn't let go since.

Outside the openly GC spaces, it has of course been softened to accept that "trans women are women", but it's an empty slogan. The underlying bio-essentialism is preserved by a distinction between sex and gender, where sex is natural, real, unchangeable and biological, whereas gender is socially constructed and thus fake and non-material. So they accept that trans women can be "gendered" women, but we are forever "biologically male", and thus less real women than "biologically female" cis women.

(in reality,biological sex is just society's ideas about gender made into a bio-truth, and the "gender-critical feminists" are actually hard-core "genderists" themselves, they just reify their ideas of gender as biological and natural)

And this translates into practice. For this kind of ally, trans women's social acceptance as women is always dependent on good feminine behavior, while cis women's womanhood is natural and in-contestable. The tme self-described "transfem ally" is always prepared to accept the womanhood of the ideal trans woman in their head, but actual flesh-and-blood transfems who have human flaws and that most unfeminine quality of having a backbone is a different story. These transfems are systematically rejected from tme-dominated social settings as rude, male socialized, perverted and sexually predatory, one after another. These tme allies will reject the terf caricatures about transfems as a false generalization, but continue to apply them to every transfem that displeases them.

That's because transmisogyny is ubiquitous in society, and what cultural feminism/terfism does is present society's conventional view of sex/gender, and the transmisogyny that comes with it, in feminist terms. It's the same things fascists and religious conservatives believe but put in a way that appeals to liberal/leftist tme people. Most tme people have to work to unlearn their transmisogyny and bio-essentialism, and it's just easier to keep believing what you were taught as a child, but believing yourself to be a trans-accepting progressive or radical.

Part 2: the transandrobros on tumblr

The transandrophobia crowd here are no different. Their beliefs about transandrophobia are revealed to be the old terfy beliefs about "sex-based oppression", about how "afab people" because of their biological sex have a deeper experience of oppression and especially misogyny than transfems have. Like the leading transandrophobia bloggers here have openly repeated their belief in sex-based oppression as, i have chronicled on this blog before.

This kind of unexamined transmisogynist bio-essentialism is the real root of their opposition to transmisogyny theory, and to transfems talking about the misogyny we experience. Fundamentally they don't believe we are the victims of misogyny.

Their push to make transfems talking about basic feminism "dangerous terf rhetoric" is" effectively is a form of projection. Defining terfism as simply "man-hating" acts as cover for their own terf ideology and rhetoric. It enables MRA-style rhetoric about man-hating feminists to function in conjunction with an insidious transmisogynistic bio-essentialist feminism.

It's of course somewhat contradictory, but reactionary ideologies seldom are 100% coherent. And it's rooted not in logical thought, but in the desire of the transandrobros to always be the innocent victim. So transfems are mean to them by being man-hating radfems, but also they are being mean by using their male privilege to talk over real wombyn talking about their experiences of misogynistic oppression, often at the same time.

This is them rhetorically fusing " the worst associations of men and women in TMA people and the best associations of both men and women in TME trans people." to quote this excellent essay. The transandrobro gets to be the rational male standing against the screaming man-hating feminist harpy, and also the innocent woman screamed at by an aggressive male, all at the same time. Talking about the patriarchy is evil misandry oppressing them, but also a denial of the misogyny they experience. None of it makes sense, but it doesn't have to.

Part 3: a transandrophobia truther gives us the perfect example

As an example, i'm gonna give you some screenshots, all from the same blog.

(Image id: screenshot of a tumblr post reading

"OMFG no way you are saying trans men are less affected by misoginy than trans women, no fucking way.

I guess now trans men are not treated as disordered, mentally ill women. I guess now trans men are not affected by abortion bans, rape, reproductive healthcare issues, infantilization, etc.

Do you hear yourself?!?!?!

Are you trying to ignore the material reality of our bodies and the effects agab has on a person's life???? What is this soulgender crap?

Just because trans women are women and trans men are men doesn't mean trans women are treated as women and trans men are men have you ever been in this world??? I don't give a fuck about people's gender affirmation if they are pushing to ignore the material reality that affects us and from where our issues come from.")

Notice the use of actual terf terminology, like "soulgender", or the laughable misuse of "material reality" that probably made Marx spin even more in his grave. This is the standard terf narrative that transfems very existence are erasing the oppression of real wombyn, our fake claims of womanhood and experiencing misogyny are erasing biological reality.

The post even outright claims trans women are treated as men and have male privilege. And when called out on this, the blogger became even more blatant:

(Image ID: screenshot of a tumblr post reading "Me saying that trans women do not experience the same kind or ammount of misoginy as women is not me saying that they are not women, it's me acknowledging that they are a specific subset of woman with a unique experience.")

Notice the not-so subtle misgendering in separating trans women from women in this screenshot. Yet when replying to a post that correctly said that "... going to trans women's posts to harass them and crying about misandry and eyeing every feminist statement with suspicion truly is just misogyny 101 and has to stop", the same fucking blogger criticized them in the following terms:

(image id: screenshot a tumblr post reading: "It's the literal terf and radfem rethoric or men bad and dangerous women good and pure that leads to the hatred against trans women in the first place. It's what causes so many trans men and transmascs to have trouble with their transition because they are constantly being told how all masculine traits are undesireable and worse than feminine traits.")

See what I mean about transandrobros defining terf/radfem ideology as just "man-hating" to hide your own very radfem-esque transmisogyny. Defining transmisogyny as rooted in hatred against men instead of misogyny is just more not-so-subtle misgendering. The idea is trans women are not women, so any oppression we experience is not misogyny, but a men's issue.

[cxvii666]

"WHY'S THIS DEALER? TAKING THE PISS!?"

college au! hanta sero x reader

(part three)

cw: drinking, bad language, recreational drug use, reader sells bud, pussy eating, make out sessions, threesome in air quotes (denki's more of a voyeur than anything else) more like you x hanta(x denki), lots of second base action, 21st century love story, genz romcom type beat - part 2 was better and part 1 was my baby

the party is in full swing, a chaotic mishmash of too-loud music, clinking bottles, people yelling and the occasional cheer from a victorious drinking game. the air reeks of cheap beer and cheaper cologne, and there's this unspoken agreement that everyone is pretending the sticky spot on the floor isn't there. hanta's pretty sure someone just knocked over an entire plate of chips somewhere near the kitchen, and judging by bakugou's growling and yelling, it's about to get cleaned up in the most aggressive way possible.

still, he's not paying much attention to any of that.

not when he's standing near the couch with you on one side and denki on the other, grinning like he just won the lottery. hanta's not entirely sure how this happened-how he went from nursing a lukewarm beer in a corner to being wedged between you two-but he's not complaining.

the three of you were making idle talk about the party, who's a bitch, who hooked up with who, but to be perfectly honest, you have no idea what to say. you know so many cool things about sero, the type of music he likes (from his instagram highlights), that he drinks this special organic green tea every morning (from denki accidently drinking it this one time and screaming it about), that he's super into horror manga, that he likes the same movies as you, that he backstraps when he rolls, and you want him to teach you. but it's like you can't even open your mouth to say any of this to him, and denki has for sure has picked up on this.

the blonde glances at you now from across hanta, mostly out of his own surprise that neither of you two have made a move yet. he mentally rolls his eyes, you all for sure love to call him the dumb one but the only idiots he sees are the two pining next to him.

so denki, as always, is the catalyst. "sooo," he says, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet, "y'know, i was thinking..." and the both of you groan on reflex because he's got that glint in his eye, the one that usually means trouble. "we should totally play spin the bottle. or like, seven minutes in heaven or something. you guys down?"

hanta's about to protest- because really?, who even plays those anymore?- but then you laugh. it's that same laugh from the car, the one that's stuck in his head for days, and suddenly he's a little more open to the idea.

"spin the bottle, huh?" you say, leaning back against the armrest of the couch, your hood slipping slightly. "that's so middle school of you, denki.

"hey, middle school was a vibe." denki shoots back, unbothered. he plops down on the carpet in front of the coffee table and waves at the two of you to join him.

"c'monnn, it'll be fun. unless you're scared."

"you're unwell," you deadpan, but your feet follow him to where he's sat and when the smirk creeping onto your face betrays you, and denki catches it like a hawk. you glance at hanta, eyebrows raised. "you in?

"ummm," hanta hesitates, but the way you're looking at him makes it hard to say no. "-sure?"

"that's the spirit!" denki hollers, snatching an almost-empty beer bottle from the table. he's vibrating with chaotic energy as he spins it, barely waiting for it to stop before shouting, "Y'ALL JOINING OR WHAT?"

mina and kirishima are immediately in because they can smell drama from a mile away. a couple of randoms that hanta doesn't from campus join too, and suddenly there's a circle forming, powered entirely by questionable decision-making, and denki's grin widens as he sets the bottle in the middle.

the game starts innocently enough. a couple of spins lead to awkward cheek kisses, overdramatic "EWWWs" from mina, and one insanely disastrous attempt by kirishima to lips bakugou, which ends in a wrestling match that topples half the circle and flipping a table.

but then. oh, then. the bottle lands on you. or more accurately, on you and denki, because the blonde immediately grabs the bottle before it even stops spinning fully.

"alright, alright." denki says, waving his hands like he's running damage control, but his grin is devious. "we'll share."

"share?" hanta asks, an eyebrow raising. "how does that even work?"

denki, completely unfazed, points between you and hanta. "it's simple, dude. a group effort. right, babe?" he winks at you, and to hanta's surprise, you're laughing again.

hanta might actually short-circuit. "you're so stupid." you say, still laughing, but your gaze flick to hanta, and there's no denying the glint of amusement in your eyes.

"what do you say, sero? think you can handle it?"

hanta's not sure if it's the alcohol, the atmosphere, or just the way you're looking at him, but he rolls his tongue across his teeth, a lazy grin creeping onto his face and he nods. "yeah, uh, sure. why not?"

cut to: the three of you sprawled on the couch like you just collectively lost a game of jenga, but instead of wooden planks, it's your sense of dignity. the rest of the group has dispersed, denki's practically in your lap, hanta wedged inbetween, and there's entirely too much touching. it starts simple-a hand on a knee, a brush of shoulders-but then denki's dragging his fingers under hanta's hoodie, and your lips are at his neck, and holy shit, when did it get so warm in here?-

"relax, sero," denki says, low and taunting as he finally slides off of your lap, watching you trail your hands down, down, and back up hanta's chest. "we're just having fun."

"yeah," you add, your voice smooth and teasing. "you trust us, right?"

hanta inhales deeply trying not to lose his composure fixing his beanie back over his head. "yeah. of course."

he looks from you to denki before sniffing as his fingers twitch from where they're gripping the sides of your thighs, fuck he really hopes his hands aren't sweaty. he's chill guyed to close to the sun, his mouth has run dry, his social battery is depleting and to be honest he's growing a bit tired of the chaos surrounding you.

that's when denki leans in with his sly grin and nods at his bestfriend, "you wanna go for a smoke huh?" and he turns to you, "i know a spot if you don't mind supplying." and you're already on your feet not hesitating to agree. hanta nods along, his lazy smile softening at the thought of escape. the three of you slip out unnoticed, the bass of the music fading behind you as the crisp night air hit.

"god, i thought we'd never leave." you mutter, shoving your hands into your hoodie pockets checking for your phone, your lipgloss, your wallet and your bud, as denki looks over with a mock gasp.

"what, my party planning wasn't good enough for you?"

"your party planning?" you shoot back, raising an eyebrow. "you're just the guy who shows up with the aux cord and a vape. let's not overstate your role dude."

hanta snickers, shaking his head as denki gasped dramatically. "can you fuck off, hanta, tell her i'm vital to party ecosystems."

"nah she's got a point," hanta replies, his voice laced with amusement. "i don't remember seeing you do much more than yap and hit your pen."

denki groans, muttering about how no one appreciates his genius as he leads the way to a bus stop round the back of the field not far from the mina's place. the three of you settle under the secluded barely lit bus shelter. hanta rolls his own cig while you roll up the joint. you glance over at his fingers a couple times and nearly drop the roach when you watch him lick a stripe down the rolling paper.

you finish up and pass denki the joint, the first few hits were passed around in comfortable silence, as you all take a second to breathe in the crisp night air.

"alright, spill," denki says suddenly, leaning back and eyeing you. "what's your deal with sero?"

your stomach drops. "huh, what?" you replied, grasping onto what's left your pride and trying to play it cool despite the heat creeping up your neck. "what deal? i don't have a deal, there's no-"

"you're super into him."

hanta's head snaps up. "what?" he echoes, looking between the two of you.

"nothing," you say quickly, shooting denki a death glare and snatching the zoot from him. "stfu, what is wrong with," you say with a hiss.

"It's fine," denki teases, leaning into hanta with a conspiratorial whisper. "she told me earlier. said you were her dream guy and everything."

you groan, burying your face in your hands. "i actually hate you."

hanta's laugh rang out, light and easy. "is that true?" he asked, his tone teasing but warm.

you peek at him from between your fingers. his grin was wide, but his gaze was soft, genuine. it made your heart flutter, and for a moment, you forgot how to speak.

"yeah, well," you say finally, taking another hit before passing him the joint. "don't let it go to your head."

hanta smiles, a faint blush dusting his cheeks and when the point of connection where your fingertips touch shoots a spark through him. "wouldn't dream of it."

denki's cackle breaks the moment. "you guys are so cute i might puke," he says, clutching his chest dramatically. "okay, okay, let's get snacks before i lose my buzz."

the room was softly lit, the only illumination coming from the early morning sun filtering through the curtains, casting a golden hue over the tangled pile of limbs on hanta's bed. the three of you were still sleeping, basking in the warm, lazy comfort of the previous night's haze. the air smelled faintly of citrus and smoke, the lingering traces of your late-night adventures.

you stirred first, a soft hum escaping your lips as you blink against the sunlight. you stretch slightly, careful not to disturb the two boys beside you. hanta's arm was draped over your waist, his grip loose and comforting, while denki lay sprawled on his stomach, one hand brushing against your shoulder.

"morning," you whisper, your voice still thick with sleep, as you turn your head to meet hanta's warm brown eyes. he looks at you with a lazy smile, his hair mussed and sticking up at odd angles.

"morning," he replies, his voice raspy and soft, the kind of tone that sent shivers down your spine.

denki groans from his place next to you, stretching dramatically. "why is the sun so loud?" he mumbles, making you and hanta laugh.

"you're the loud one," you shoot back, chucking a pillow at him. "ow fuck." "oh don't be such a baby."

hanta's laugh rumbles in his chest, and you feel it more than heard it. the vibration was comforting, grounding you in the soft intimacy of the moment. "i think you're just mad you're not a morning person," he says, his voice still low and gravelly from sleep.

denki cracks one eye open to glare at you, though his lips quirked into a grin. "well liked it better when it was just us, the food, and the movie."

hanta's hand brushes against your hip as he shifts closer. "yeah, but this is nice too."

you feel the tension shift in the room, subtle but palpable. hanta's thumb traces a slow circle on your hip, the light touch sending sparks across your skin. denki notices, of course, his grin fading into something softer, something more curious as his gaze flicks between the two of you.

"you're touchy this morning," you tease, though your voice was quieter now, your heart picking up speed.

hanta doesn't answer right away, his lips quirking into a small, knowing smile as he leans closer. his voice barely above a whisper when he says "can't help it. you're here."

denki's eyes widen slightly, his usual cool guy act slipping for a moment. "whoa, okay, are we doing this? s this a thing now?"

you laugh again, the sound nervous but excited. "are you always this subtle?"

denki smirks, sitting up slightly. "subtlety is overrated. i'm just saying- if something's happening, i'd rather not be the clueless idiot in the room."

hanta snorts, his hand still resting on your hip. "you've never been clueless, denks."

the air grew heavier, the playful banter giving way to something more intimate. hanta's gaze meets yours, a question lingering in his expression. when you nod, his hand slides up your side, his touch firm but careful, testing the waters.

denki watches, his breathing hitching slightly as hanta leaned in to kiss you. it was slow and deliberate, his lips soft and warm.

"you okay, denki?" you ask leaning back to look at him from beside you when you and hanta finally break for air. the brief pause is just that, brief, because hanta's lips are back on yours before you can finish speaking.

"oh, i'm very okay," he replies, his grin returning as he leaned back against the pillows. "don't mind me. just... enjoying the view."

hanta has to physically pull himself off of you in order to shoot his best friend a look that was both completely exasperated and totally amused. "you think you're such a joker-"

"yeah, yeah," denki says, waving him off. "just keep going, don't let me distract you."

hanta turns his attention back to you, his hands sliding under the hem of your shirt, his touch igniting a trail of heat along your skin. he guides you onto your back, his lips finding yours again, deeper this time, more insistent. his hands roam, exploring the curves of your body with a reverence that made you swallow down a whimper.

denki shifts closer, his eyes fixed on the way hanta kisses you, his own hands twitching as if he wanted to reach out but didn't quite dare. "you guys are so hot together," he murmurs, his voice low and filled with awe.

hanta pulls back slightly, his lips swollen and his gaze dark. "you want to join, or are you just gonna sit there?"

denki blinked, clearly caught off guard, but the slow grin spreading across his face said everything. "oh, i'm in." what followed was a blur of soft laughter and heated touches. the blonde gets manhandled into sitting behind you as hanta presses you back into denki's chest. hanta's lips trail down your neck, his hands pulling your shirt up and over your head. denki leans in, his fingers brushing against your arm as he tilted your chin toward him for a kiss that was playful but electric.

when hanta slid lower, his kisses trailing down your stomach, you shiver, anticipation thrumming through you. denki's hand finds yours, his grip firm and reassuring as he watched hanta settle between your thighs. his eyes darken as he takes in the sight of you, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

"you're beautiful," hanta murmurs, his breath warm against your skin before he presses a kiss to your inner thigh. the sensation sent a jolt of pleasure through you, as your ass jerks back and the blonde lets out a sigh as you make contact with the half-chub in his boxers. your free hand tangling into hanta's soft hair as he continued his slow, deliberate exploration.

denki's breathing grew heavier, his gaze fixed on the way hanta moved, the way you reacted. "holy shit," he whispered, his voice thick with arousal. "you're so into this, aren't you?"

you nod, unable to form words as hanta's mouth finally finds its mark, his tongue moving in deliberate, torturous strokes up your slit that left you gasping. as he ate you out with passion, grunting and groaning into your pussy, hips bucking into the mattress. denki's hand tightens around yours, his other hand resting on your knee, his touch grounding you as the pleasure built higher and higher.

hanta didn't stop, his hands gripping your hips to keep you steady as he worked you over with a skill and dedication that left you trembling. denki's eyes never left you, his own arousal evident as he leaned closer, his lips brushing against your temple in a surprisingly tender gesture.

"you're amazing y'know," he murmurs, his voice filled with genuine admiration.

when you finally come undone, your body arching off the bed and your cries muffled against denki's shoulder, hanta didn't let up until you were completely spent, twitching and whining. he pulled back, his lips glistening and his expression smug as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

denki let out a low whistle, his grin wide and appreciative. "damn, sero. i didn't know you was an eater like thaattttt," he turns to you "he's a keeper forreal-" you cut him off with a pillow to the face as hanta snickers, climbing back up to press a kiss to your forehead. "glad you think so."

you laugh softly, your body still buzzing as you reach for hanta pulling them both into a lazy, contented embrace. the three of you stayed like that, tangled together in the warm morning light, the world outside forgotten as you basked in the easy intimacy of the moment.

HEYYYYY YALLLL this is the last part of this particular series but i love this au and i have some more thingys in my drafts a lot briefer than this and if you LIKED this one then you'll probably LOVE girls who like to fuck

[lu-is-not-ok]

Since full stop hong lu has been released, is there anything about his voicelines and such that intrigues you?

Funny you ask about that, because yesterday I was going positively insane over his voicelines! :)

First I'll start with the more 'normal' thing that hit me, before moving on to the 'voice acting autism' parts.

This fucking line. Oh my god. This not only continues Hong Lu's thing with death and its meaning, but I believe it's also a reference to this line from Liwei in Ruina.

And well. Guess what. This is the two in one blog. This is where I make everything about two in one. And Full Stop Hong Lu's line combined with this context? It feels like a Daiyuism to me. Very Flower Burial, musing on the inevitability of death and how in the end it doesn't really matter. Flowers fall. People perish. And neither of them know.

...Okay now we get to the insane parts.

I don't talk about this often, mainly because it's hard to discuss in a text format, but I really, really enjoy picking apart the voice acting in Limbus. Like, not only is it Really Fucking Good, but some of the deliveries genuinely feel so nuanced that I can't help but see if I can dig deeper. And the following bits are thus more about the voice acting behind the lines rather than the text itself. Bear with me here. Tumblr doesn't like .wav files so I'll be linking directly to them in the Organized Assets folder.

First, there's the Afternoon Greeting line.

Note how in the last sentence, Hong Lu's voice has a moment where it wavers. A nervous laugh-like tremble. I don't speak Korean so I can't tell what exact word is being focused on with that moment, but it's notable since I don't believe any other ID has anything like that happen in a random casual voiceline.

I find that tremble interesting because it implies there's some sort of rising emotion behind that. Something about the realization that in reality Hong Lu's wealth means things that are considered expensive to some are really more than affordable to him makes him briefly stumble verbally.

We know that most Hong Lus, to put it bluntly, try their fucking hardest to ignore their reality. So I can't help but wonder if this admission of awareness, this forced lack of ignorance, is what's throwing him off? He can't exactly pretend like what is normal to him is normal to everyone when the chasm between him and others is staring him right in the face.

Ok, now for the thing that's been making me properly lose my mind for the past. Uh. However long this fuckass ID has been out for SFGHHGF.

There is a very, VERY notable difference between Full Stop Hong Lu's voice lines out of combat, and the ones in combat.

Compare his Deployment voiceline (casual, out of combat voice) to his Stage Entry voiceline (in combat voice).

This is, yet again, a voice direction choice exclusive to this ID.

Full Stop Hong Lu's out of combat lines keep the same traits as his voice in most other cases. Higher register, with a notable lilt to his speech. Hong Lu's voice tends to subtly shift at ends of his sentences, usually rising, and there's often a rhythm to how he speaks, causing his voice to have a sort of sing-songy quality to it that adds to his innocent and unaware vibe, as if he's got his head in the clouds.

This changes completely with Full Stop Hong Lu's in combat lines. Not only are they in lower register, said in a much more assertive tone, but the lilt in his voice is completely gone. The delivery for these is comparably monotone, methodical. It makes him sound like a completely different character, doesn't it?

Now, Full Stop Hong Lu isn't the only ID that has a voice line with that kind of delivery shift. Yurodivy Hong Lu's Skill 3 and K Corp Hong Lu's Commencing Attack voice lines are very similar if not the same kind of voice. However, unlike Full Stop Hong Lu's case, this shift is not consistent for those two. Full Stop Hong Lu however sticks to this tone for the entirety of his in combat lines, and I find that fascinating.

Man really just fucking Locks In.

[velvetvexations]

the thing about socialization + the idea that testosterone/passing/coming out or whatever else people have decided trans men should stop doing is "the thing that makes them an Evil Man becuase the Evil Man Rays are seeping into their unsuspecting heads, but they're even worse because they 'got to' grow up afab and that gives them 'female privilege'" reminds me of something ive seen some people do.

ive met quite a few people who consider themselves academic types and are, on paper, anti-racist. they can and will state that one's race has no bearing on their mental and moral capacities, and they find all the racist scientology things bs. however, when confronted with the 'problem' of actually interacting with nonwhite people (especially in contexts of trust, relationships, and gauging skill) they spew textbook racist rhetoric and then cover it up with "well, ii don't think their skin color has anything to do with it, but im sure that growing up in a Certain Disadvantaged Environment does things to you that makes you less trustworthy/stupider."

and it's a whole shitload of baggage when it comes to nature vs nurture arguments, and i guess i can't prove nor disprove the existence of the invisble force begotten from a specific upbringing that creates all those Evil People we love talking about, but actually my point is this: i don't think it matters to the people they're talking about. if someone flings stereotypes at me but tries to undercut it with "well i'm not saying that because of your'e [ethnicity im not sharing], that's silly. i just think that about you because if the way i think Society has treated you" funnily enough, im not going to care that much. they're not getting extra credit for that

and that's why in all this im like OF COURSE 'tmes' (by which both they and i mean afab trans people and sometimes intersex people) are upset! youre telling me that this group of people, whom we can reasonably assume were not comfortably out from a young age, have dealt with this society's bullshit when it comes to being percieved as a woman...and they're mad about being called basic, whiny, overreactive, stupider on average, soft, and liars about their oppression? man, i'd think so! i'd hope so! i wonder where they might have heard that before!

that's where all the insistence about reading theory (which by the way, a lot of us have!) falls flat on its face. anyone, 'tme' or 'tma' repeating their transphobic arguments have encountered a fundamental failure in how to interact with a group of people with baggage. this is necessary context and i feel insane becuase it's almost never acknowledged, we're just supposed to pretend that transmasc people were never trans? and those who bring it up are 'cligning onto femininity?'

i feel like that's also why we've had so many people say "they sound like terfs." i myself am not really comfortable with the comparison, but to tell someone that they have terf-ish talking points is, i think, not the end of the world. because i thought we determined a long time ago that the problem is the people, the terfs, it's that bs that they believe. and to spout the exact same things while claiming that "well, but im saying it for a different reason! im not arguing that all people i think do gender wrong should die because im a terf, i do it for Enlightened reasons!" again, no extra credit.

yeah but other people read "trans people AFAB have dealt with misogyny all their lives and continue to deal with it" as "trans women have a lesser relationship to misogyny" like bitch dat's a whole new sentence! DAT'S A WHOLE NEW SENTENCE!

[six-eyed-samurai]

"Choso! Did you eat my cookies?!"

He looks up eagerly from the couch, where he's currently flipping through one of the books you've lent him, only to wince at your expression looming over him. Choso tried for a smile.

"Uh, no. Maybe Yuuji ate them? You can go ask him."

"I don't need to." You yank the book from his hands and glare accusingly at him. Did he really think you would believe his five year old brother could possibly do such a thing? "Because unless Yuuji had a sudden growth spurt, I don't think he can reach the top shelf."

"You know that's why we put a step ladder there, right?"

"Oh? What's this then?"

Like a hawk you swoop in and brush off crumbs from Choso's shirt with a triumphant crow. "Have you anything to say for yourself?"

"They're my...cookies?"

"I can't believe it." Your shoulder sag; imaginary pearls are clutched as you fall back against the couch next to him. "My best friend and roommate - a liar, a thief and one cold-hearted man to try and pin it on a hapless toddler."

"You two-faced cookie monster!"

A cushion's smacked into him - Choso lets out a startled 'oof!' before indignantly whipping the blanket you had yanked over for yourself off in revenge. "Hey, they were that good, alright?"

"Excuses! First my dorayaki, next my mochi, now this? You've gone too far." Arms crossed, you shake your head in mock disappointment. "You're hereby fired from the position of my best friend."

"You can't do that! I've known you for years! I know exactly what time you can't sleep at night, I know how you like your coffee, I know what you did back in third grade with Soga Saito-"

"Stop -! Shut up, you're fired." Pointedly you roll onto your side.

Choso struggles to come up with a witty comeback, turning to you and trying to pull you back. "Well, fine, I don't wanna be your best friend anyway. What about boyfriend?"

"Oh, so that's how you're going to play it, the whole meh-I-don't-wanna - what. Wait, wait, wait. What."

Top ten worst ways to accidentally confess to a longtime crush on your (former) best friend that had gradually grown worse and worse over the time you both spend living under the same roof, seeing you walk out the door on some nameless date, know nobody but him knows what happened on Saturday the eleventh and he's still not the one you're kicking your feet for, all excited over just from a single text? Choso gulps. Top three, actually.

He can pretend you misheard, right? But the longer you go on gaping at him the more sweat collects into a bead on his forehead and on his palms. Choso slowly shifts away, never breaking eye contact.

"Well, I meant boyfriend as in, boy friend. Best male friend. You know?" His laugh sounds canned, like a badly made 1990s movie. "Are you - are you giving me the silent treatment now?"

"I mean - I - I have - just -"

"Did I say something weird? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to put you into an awkward position, or anything -"

The smile you have on is like you ate those cookies and not him. Really sweet and tasty cookies. Choso flushes.

"I mean, I'm just saying, but I guess I gotta find a new best friend now, male or otherwise, since you're promoted to boyfriend now."

Did you know one time my best friend fired me from being their best friend and we're not dating but I got replaced with a potato and was told I'd be sold for $1 fries.

[candyskiez]

jon was the last human being elias ever saw. the last human being he ever talked to. the last human being he ever touched. hes been inside the heads of everyone in the world but jon was the last person he ever saw. and maybe the only person he ever truly saw. anyway hi how are you

Saros I need you to understand I made a Noise at this ask that made my cat run over to check on me. Which i think is maybe a little predictable of me.

I am also thinking about this in the context of how Jonah said that realizing his own selfishness was an awful thing to know, but also incredibly freeing. Thinking about how he again said Jons attempt, that was completely unsuccessful!!!, was nice! It was freeing! He enjoyed it!! Thinks about how Jonahs fear was of losing control, of his chance of survival and safety being taken away. He enjoys being known! He enjoys being understood by someone he thinks deserves it. He likes the idea of being known, of someone realizing that yes, he is a bad person, and seeing beauty in it. He likes the idea of it.

Thinks about how he viewed Jon as...not a companion, but as his in some way. Thinks about how he is completely sure that he understands Jon. Thinks about the way he knows about all of Jons deepest traumas and insecurities, knows exactly what to say to hurt him. Thinks about "I knew it had to be you." Thinks about, again "the freedom of it all." The freedom of it all!

Thinks about how Jonahs response to Jon saying he failed was just "Have i?" Thinks about how Jon tells him he's going to end the world and kill everyone and starving all the fears to death, he just says "That WE serve." Jon just told him he's going to undo everything he ever worked for but he refuses to let Jon think, for even a second, that they aren't the same. Because whether Jon likes it or not, Jonah is maybe the only person at the time who could possibly understand why Jon is doing this. Who could possibly understand every single reason. He already knows why Jon is doing this. He already knows everything that's led up to this point. And if jons going to do it, he knows he can't stop him. That's what scares him. But he won't let Jon pretend.

Thinks about how this is the first and last time we hear Jonah be afraid. Thinks about how Jonah is scared shitless, begging for his life against the person he happily destroyed the life of, and he knows he's fucked! But he doesn't want to die! And he sees the anger and fear and desperation and want of a man he ruined, of a man he made into something he views as beautiful, and it's the last thing he sees!!! Do you think he thought it was beautiful. Do you think he saw himself. Do you think in that moment he thinks, maybe he loves this man. Do you ever think about the fear and then acceptance, that he can't run forever. He's done. There's nothing he ever could've done. But he made something incredible, and nobody will ever be able to ignore the horrible, wonderful mark he left on the world. His last words were wishing him good luck! It's insane! Not "you're no better than me" or calling him a monster or anything. Just. Good luck. Good luck. It's insane. What the hell. I need to analyze it. What do you MEAN good luck.

Jon is the one person he could truly view as anything close to Part of what he was doing or what he wanted, and it didn't save Jon. It actively ruined his life. Do you think Jon saw Jonah gazing up at him with affection mixed in with horror as he died. Do you think it haunts him if/when he escapes somewhere else. I think it haunts him. I think he never manages to forget it. I think sometimes he looks at himself and understands why Jonah was so fond of him. I think that scares him more than he'll ever be able to explain. I think it's the one thing he'll never tell anyone he'll meet. I think Jonah ended with Jon, and Jon carried him with him for the rest of his life, and he wishes he didn't. I think Jonah would like that. I think Jon knows that, and he hates that too. (I think Jon wonders, would Jonah have even remembered him? If the roles had been reversed?) (I think he knows the answer.)

Anyways my days been great how's yours.

[theficplug]

Actors on Actors, Michael B. Jordan

Michael B. Jordan x Black Reader

Minors DNI

Michael and Reader are exes and actors who are always caught up in an invisible string. This time the string leads them to interview each other for their own Actors on Actors episode.

[ Go easy on me! This is the first time I've posted in years. Happy New Years everybody x ]

The studio lights are blinding.

You’ve been through a million and one press junkets and interviews but this time, the air feels thick. Every corner of the room buzzes with an unfamiliar electricity that makes the hairs on your neck stand up. The set is pristine, designed to look like a cozy living room—two chairs, warm lighting, a small coffee table between them—but the last thing you can focus on is the camera. 

Because he’s here. Michael. Sitting just across from you.

You can't believe it. Of all the people they could’ve paired you with for this episode of Actors on Actors, they had to pair you with him. Your ex.

The same ex who once held your heart in his hands, and, with a few words, shattered it into pieces you’ve been picking up ever since. The same ex who, when you look at him now, is still so achingly familiar—like he never left. His smile. That same mischievous glint in his eyes. His laugh, low and rich, the way it used to rumble through you and make your heart stutter. Everything about him makes it impossible to breathe without feeling that pull again, the one that you worked so hard to forget.

Parts of your brain know that it would’ve been easier if the relationship had ended in a screaming match or some sort of cheating scandal, but you know that it just wasn’t true.

“We’re not the same people we used to be, and I can’t keep pretending we are. I think it’s time we let go before we lose ourselves completely.”

“Do you think that we’ve outgrown each other?” 

The answer in the silence between the two of you was all the confirmation that you needed.

You two were the definition of the right time , wrong person, and now you have to sit there and pretend that you didn’t plan your entire futures together at 16 years old. 

Of course the planning happened during a game of M-A-S-H while you were waiting in the dressing rooms on the set of The Wire.  And at the time you would’ve rather been Prodigy from Mindless Behavior or Zayn as your final choice, but 2 kids and a little blue house with him didn’t sound so bad.

 It still doesn’t…

But you’re both here, now, for the cameras.

You can put your professional face forward and sit for a conversation with him for the next 30 minutes. It’s not like you hadn’t seen him since the breakup. You are in the same circle and you are both mostly drawn to the same projects so the two of you constantly being around each other was inevitable. 

The crew gets into position, their voices soft but urgent as they check angles, make sure the lighting is right. You know the script for this—questions about your latest roles, how you’re navigating your careers, the “game of acting.” A simple conversation. But it’s never simple with him.

You put on your game face and saunter onto the set with a calm powerful stride.

“We are two people that need no introduction. Hello Michael.” you say to the camera while holding your hand out and he looks at your hand for a moment as if you had just handed him a speeding ticket. 

You laugh softly at his expression and decide to not give him too much of a hard time.“I’m just playing. Hey Mike.” you try again, and his small pout dissolves into a soft warm smile that takes over his entire face. 

“Hey, baby girl.”

He pulls you in gently by your hand into a hug. A warm embrace that lasted a minute, but felt like an eternity. 

The last time you were pressed this close to his chest was months ago while your legs were clasped around his waist– holding on for dear life as he stretched you out after the Oscars after party.

The comforting hand that was massaging your back was the same as the one that held you closer while his hips rocked slowly into you. 

Your hearts were beating so loudly against one another as if they were trying to declare your love because neither of you dared to speak the words.

“I miss you.”

“I know.”

“Look at me��� Please?” He pleaded again, this time moving your braids  out of your face.

You let out a sigh and turn your head away, letting his lips land on the side of your face and neck instead. “I can’t.” you reply quietly 

“I know.” 

“Come on, baby girl.” Was all that it took for you to roll him onto his back and slide your champagne colored gown up higher and off of your body. 

You can hear him take a sharp inhale while his hands up and down your body as if he’s remembering and studying all at once. 

His fingertips danced over your soft brown skin that felt hot to the touch. His eyes finally met yours as you took him into your hand once again and guided him into you without haste. You teased him slowly the way that he liked while your other hand held his jaw in place. 

He opened his mouth slowly to take your fingers into his mouth between his parted lips as you sunk down onto the tip and let out a breath while preparing to take the rest.

Michael’s eyes flutter closed  when you cupped him lower and you tsk before shaking your head.

“Look at me. You wanted me to look at you. I am right here. You close your eyes again and I'm leaving. And you’re not allowed to cum until I say. Do you understand?” You question, trying to sound brave because if you had stayed in the previous position you don’t know how you would’ve kept your composure.

“You say that because you don’t know how good you fuckin- feel” Michael added and nodded hesitantly-

 Michael glances at you, his eyes catching yours for the briefest second before he looks away, focusing on the monitor instead. That moment feels like a confession. He always knew how to make you feel like you were the only person in the room. Even now, even after everything.

“You ready?” His voice is low, careful, and it makes your stomach flip. You swallow hard, nodding once, trying to push down the surge of emotions that threatens to consume you.

“Yeah. Ready.”

The cameras roll, the noise in the room quiets, and suddenly, it’s just the two of you. Alone in front of an audience you can’t see, surrounded by a pressure neither of you has fully prepared for.

Michael leans forward, his usual charm in place, but the tension in the air is palpable. You can feel his gaze on you, warm but intense, like he's trying to figure out just how much you’ve changed since the last time you saw each other.

“So,” he begins, his voice smooth, “you’ve been getting a lot of praise for your latest role. How does it feel to be the one everyone’s talking about?”

It’s a simple question. But it isn’t. Not when the words hang between you like a fragile thread that could snap at any moment. You know him. You can feel the way he’s looking at you. The way his eyes soften when they meet yours. The way his lips press into a thin line as if he’s waiting for something.

You answer, but your mind is elsewhere—floating between memories of late-night talks, whispered confessions, and the sting of a love that was never quite enough to keep you together. Your gaze flits to him briefly.

The moment stretches longer than it should.

This was a mistake.

But you don’t say it. You can’t.

“Well, I am in awe that when they wrote this character that Jordan Peele had me in mind. Like, of all people. He had seen my work and said yes I need this bumbling awkward nerdy black girl to be my leading lady. You know how much I love  Jordan Peele. How many nights have we had in depth discussions for hours about Nope and Get Out and Us. And the script was just brilliant. I can’t say much about it yet, but you know how ecstatic I was when I found out that I got this role 2 years ago. I called you 5 minutes later after I called my mom and I just sobbed. Getting to star in a movie alongside Viola Davis is just any actor’s dream and it’s just purely insane. She’s the sweetest, most gorgeous hardworking person in the room. And she taught me how to let those tears flow without being embarrassed. You owe it to the character to tell their story. It will not always be pretty.” You yap on and Michael is just staring at you with those stars in his eyes like he’s trying so hard to pay attention to all that you’re saying but with the way that he’s eyeing you it feels like he’s searching for something.

“You have an eyelash.” He lies quietly and grasps at nothing on your cheek while letting his fingertips graze your cheekbone momentarily. 

It takes you back to the night of the after party once again.

You’ve now braced your hands against his chest with one knee down on the bed so that you can gain the perfect angle to bounce for longer.

The new angle allowed him to feel everything  at once and his hands gripped your hips, his mouth opened to let out a broken whimper-– just above a whisper.

Your hands trailed from his chest to his throat before your grip tightened around it. 

The feeling of being sheathed inside of you like a warm embrace was too much with the way you brought yourself back down onto him with smooth rolls of your hips and bouncing. 

He thought that he was going to lose mind before you  fell forward to let him impale you on it and pick up where he left off. 

It was your turn to whine softly against  his neck while you licked a strip up his neck up to his earlobe , suckling it softly. 

“Right there? Right there! Right. There.” He teased as he mocked your words. He locked one hand on the back of your head and the other around your waist to seal you in place before thrusting harder into the most perfect soft ribbony spot with precision. 

You turn your brain off to how “wrong” it was to be back in your hotel room, using the man who was once the love of your life like a pogo stick.

A long drawn out “fuck” leaves his mouth and you know that he’s close. You lean back and allow him to sit up while you ride him again. He rests his forehead on your shoulder– placing the softest butterfly kisses.

The switch from him doing all the work below to Lotus position felt like it was nearly too much and somehow not close enough. 

You stare into each other’s eyes while chasing that feeling together, in sync and in ebbs and flows of what felt the best to you both.

“Fuck, I love you, and I can’t help that.” he admits quietly. His hands come up to cup your breasts, softly grazing the hardened brown buds. 

Your body froze in place. You searched his face for all signs of uncertainty and euphoric accidental confessions, but sighed a sigh of relief when you couldn’t find a hint of doubt.

“Is that not enough?” you question. 

You both didn’t have the answer to that question so you opted to lean in to kiss him and suckle his tongue instead.

The moment your thighs began to tremble against him he knew that you were close. 

“My God.Michael, fuck.” you whine and try to match his rhythm but finding yourself cradling his head against your breasts and trying to prepare for that coil to snap in the pit of your stomach. 

“Doing so good for me. Good job, mama. Good fucking job.You feel so fuckin’ good. Ma fu-” He praised and hissed as he felt your nails rake down his back, 

“Harder… You’re gonna make me cum-”He whispered and you could feel him twitching and throbbing inside of you. 

“I can’t. I can’t-” You whine again , feeling overwhelmed by the feeling of being so close to where you want to be. 

“Yes, you can. Use your words. If you wanna cum , you gonna have to use your words.” 

“Please?”

“Please? Please? Please, what baby? I don’t understand that.” He mocks you to the very end but you know with the way that he’s now gripping your cheeks and dropping you down onto him , that he’s just as close as you are.

“Please make me cum.”

“I know. I know. I know.” he coos.

“ Get my fingers wet for me, baby, I’m going to get you there. You feel so good. Gonna make you feel so good.” He  leaned  you back gently, his hands sliding down from your breasts up to your mouth. 

You wasted no time making a show of getting his fingers nice and sopping wet. You sucked on them while he gripped the back of your head and made you take them deeper. Any other time your skin would’ve felt like it was burning with the way that this gaze was set upon you , taking you all in.

He rubbed the back of your head with a satisfied hum and with one soft kiss to your temple he got to work–making you feel the best that you had in the 4 months since the breakup.

With his fingers between your legs , rubbing gently at  your sensitive little bud and him now thrusting up into you and a tempo that was different than before you knew that you wouldn’t last long.

A combination of your grip and the sting of your long sparkly nails were the last thing he needed to send him over the edge with you.

 He smacked your thigh softly  just in time for you to lean back a little in his lap and let him coat your stomach right next to the little ‘m’ inside of a heart tattoo. 

As you moan into each other’s mouths you begin to overstim each other. 

He laid you back, still grinding softly against you and with you twitching in his arms.

Even after all that had just taken place, the softest kiss that he placed against your lips almost felt forbidden. 

He leaned down to rest his forehead against yours while you both caught your breath. Neither of you wanted to burst the bubble of fantasy so instead you did what you both do best and silently comfort each other.

You wipe the sweat from his face and he leans over to grab tissue from the hotel room nightstand to clean you up. 

‘You okay? ” He asked softly knowing that neither of you had the energy or words to have the actual conversation that needed to be had but you both agreed that for the sake of growth and moving on that this would be the last time. 

“You’re okay. You’re okay.” He confirms while running his hands over your back to ground you. 

He opens the bottle of water on the nightstand and holds it up to your lips before taking a few sips himself. 

By morning you could feel his fingertips grazing your cheek while he’s saying his goodbyes. 

It was as if he was reading your mind. The audacity of this man to smirk at you as if he knows that the last time you had the best orgasm of your life was 2 years ago and again 5 months ago while feasting upon you like you were the last meal he’d ever have.

You had been broken up for over 2 years at that point and you both blamed it on the delirium from the lack of sleep caused by late call times and reshoots. 

You cough down your Earl Grey tea and return a look of your own. “Thank you” you say firmly and he continues the discussion. 

“I remember that. When you called me I was already on my way home with flowers cause it was Monday - and if y’all didn’t know, brief sidenote. I feel like Mondays are hard enough. Everyone deserves flowers to start their week off right. So, yeah, you called and I also ended up bringing home a little ‘Congratulations, my future Oscar winner’ cake. And now a year later you’re about to  share that movie with the world. I’m so proud of you. I know how hard you worked. And that’s the thing about both of us. Neither one of us ever really wanted to be actors growing up. It just kind of fell into our lap as a part of our path and it’s something that we fell in love with. I have always loved your work ethic and your style of acting. You know that I tell you that on and off camera. The way that you can make any character feel so–human. That’s something that I really admired about you. She was this professional little thing that walked on the set of The Wire like she had been working in the industry for 20 years. She used to scold me so much too. I heard “be professional , Michael” more from her than I did the director.” He says laughing and you kick him playing with your heel. 

“You were a menace! I thought that we were gonna get kicked off of set with your prank wars! Our scenes were already 60 seconds” you say laughing as he grabs your foot,

“Heeyy! I was just trying to get your attention. I didn’t learn to love acting until I watched your scenes and wanted to work harder and fall in love with the craft. But, my first thoughts were the curly haired brown skinned girl that I got to see every day. You know, I wasn’t BIG MIKE back then. I had straight backs and 4xl Big and Tall shirts.It was rough. But Wallace taught me a lot. It was one of the first roles where I got to put on different shoes and hats and walk through someone else’s life” He says, laughing at himself at first.

“Please edit a photo of that right here, thank you. Because why did the wardrobe department have him dressed like Master P, every episode. ” You chime in while laughing at him.

He pushed your heel playfully with his loafer and it made you both burst out in laughter again. 

“It’s okay because they dressed me like Reba McIntyre. They really said a single mom who works too hard and loves her kids… It was… something.” You joke before getting back to the main topic.

“Yeah, a lot of people don’t know that he and I have known each other for forever and I can address the elephant in the room. Just because we're not together anymore doesn't mean that we aren't still fans of each other and the craft and we work well together. I literally cried when his character Wallace died. They didn’t tell me so that my reaction could be more authentic. I hated it and wanted no parts of it, but it taught me how to embrace feeling and emotion and let it flow as it needs to. In order to breathe life into the character. I cried again while watching him in Black Panther for the first time. It still gets to me to see him hurt or in pain or just–” You try to continue the conversation but didn’t expect to get choked up on the idea of how much you care for his well being,

Michael instantly leans in with a tissue from the table next to your mugs to wipe away your tears and you quietly wave him off with a small shake of your head before taking a moment to gather your thoughts, 

You watch as the corner of his mouth turns down for a second and there's something etched across his face like he wants to comfort you but he's not sure if that's his place now.

The frown on his face is replaced with a knowing look when he realizes that you’re still in front of a whole crew and cameras. 

He settles for placing his hand on your knee and running his thumb over it to calm your nerves and soothe you. 

It was something he’d always do to calm you before anything important while your leg jigged and shaked from the anxiousness. 

You give him a soft smile and nod before continuing the conversation.

“ I think it was a combination of how hard he worked to make Erik feel human and how far he’d come in general. I also felt like Wallace in a way led to you bringing Killmonger to life. Erik really did feel like that guy from your neighborhood that you watched get dealt the shittiest hand of cards in life and he had to learn to play the game with those cards while going after the people who dealt them in the first place. Shout out to Ryan Coogler. Those were my favorite movies to work on. Lupita, Letitia, Angela, CHAD. Everyone worked for hours to create what you saw on the screen. You could just feel how important and special this film was going to be for a long time. My heart. My heart is forever left in Wakanda, honestly.  I literally cried watching all of his films to be honest. Put on any of the Creed films and you will find me bawling by the end. He and Tessa were like magic together. And yes I saw all of the tweets and articles, thanks TMZ. But, no really, can I just also clarify that Tessa and I are besties. I literally had to silence my phone before this because she will be sending some sort of meme. People love a good fake story.We needed a good laugh.” You tease while mouthing “fuck you guys” to the camera. 

You can hear the staff chuckling and you turn to see Michael immersed in what you’re saying. His eyes only leave your face to take a sip of his coffee. 

“Yeah, Tessa’s the homie. We were celebrating our anniversary in Cabo when we read those articles too. People just say anything and it’s taken as the truth. . . I think you’re right too. That’s exactly the way that I think of both roles. Really I approach all roles that way. Where’s the humanity in this? And if I can’t find it. Then I wonder when it was turned off. How did the character lose it ? Then from there I just dive in. . . Switch with me?” He asks after making a face at how sweet the coffee is. 

He takes a swig of your Earl Grey and takes a moment to collect his thoughts. 

“Oh, I could’ve told them that you wouldn’t like this. It's very sweet but very nice, thank you.” You say in the direction of the staff. 

“Oof. You have. You have my red lipstick on you from my mug.” 

You’re already swiping at his lips without a second thought. It didn’t dawn on you how awkward things might appear until you meet his gaze and he’s grabbing another tissue from the table and swiping at his own lips.

“Did I get it?” He asks licking his lips slowly and you wanted to smack the grin off his face at that moment. 

“Yup. YUP. Got it. Perfect, good job.” You reply cheekily before looking out at the crew and staff. 

“Also, Did you know that he was my first on-screen kiss? My first on-screen everything..." You segue into the next conversation about your newly released romcom. 

The cheeky grin that he was once wearing is now replaced with a look of nostalgia induced sorrow. 

“Yeah yeah. It was all teeth and upper lip. I didn’t know what was going on. I just knew that they said hey keep it cute. Simple. A peck. I still wasn’t at the BIG MIKE stage. This was the Chronicle era and I know y’all didn’t watch that one, but that’s alright —you’re still my people. It  was for some throwaway party scene. It didn’t end up making the final cut but the butterflies that I felt that day was all that I remember. I was so nervous I kept getting the lines wrong. Anyways, Steve ended up getting smashed into the ground the next day and that was that, but I didn’t even care. I was on cloud 9. We had our first date the next weekend after that.” He reveals and you smiled fondly back at him at the thought. 

“You never told me that you were nervous. I was so nervous that day. I think I ate about 20 Altoids and then I couldn’t even feel my tongue for 5 minutes.”

He chuckles to himself at the thought of the memory.

“You were definitely my celebrity crush. So, for me it was and still is a special moment in my career… And now I know why your breath was so minty.” He jokes but you don’t miss the way that he rubbed over the tiny print of your initials on the inside of his wrist.

“Also, can I just add. Can you please stop dying on screen! You’ve got about 4 or more characters that just get off-ed brutally. I was so over the moon when I found out that you would be the male lead opposite of me in this thriller romcom, Try Again. I know how much you give to these characters and how much you want to do their stories justice but I love when you laugh. It’s still my favorite sound. Working with you on this new romcom was difficult because we did all of our own stunts, but I loved it because it felt like we were 16 again. I haven’t heard you laugh or seen you smile that much in years. So many heavy characters took so much of your light in order to bring them to life. In this A24 movie we play a couple who’s thinking about getting divorce and are in the process of separation. However, we end up needing each other to get through a situation because it isn’t as it seems! So stay tuned for that.” You continue, pointing towards the camera.

He leans back in his chair, looking at you with a softness in his eyes, a little more vulnerable than he usually lets on in interviews. There's a long pause, like he's choosing his words carefully, trying to balance what he's feeling with the professional facade.

"Man, I—" He laughs softly, running a hand through his hair, as if gathering the courage to say exactly what’s on his mind. His voice lowers, sincere. "You’ve always had a way of seeing right through me, haven’t you?"

Michael’s eyes meet yours, the years between you two suddenly feeling smaller, as if the old connection is still there, just buried under time. "It’s... It’s not just the characters, you know. Those stories, they take so much, but they also give me a way to feel things I didn't know I needed to. But hearing you say that… hearing you say that you miss my laugh… it hits different now."

He exhales slowly, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "I don't think I realized how much of myself I left behind, chasing all those roles. But you always knew how to make me feel like me again. Even on the hardest days, there was something about your energy that could pull me back."

A pause, and he glances away for a moment, almost like he's fighting to keep his composure. Then he looks at you again, softer than before. "I missed you, more than I would have liked to admit. The real me. Not the guy I play on screen, but the one who can sit next to you and just laugh about nothing at all."

He clears his throat, trying to make it sound light again. "So yeah, you’re right. You were 16 again, and I was with you, laughing like nothing ever changed. Layla and Quinten are a lot like us in a way. They fell in love very fast and early on in life and they had seen it all and done it all. And then one day life is pulling them in two different directions. And onto a path when they’ve never really had to travel alone before. There’s love always, but there’s also self discovery that needs to happen. But there is always, always love, respect, and care.”

There's a tenderness in his gaze that lingers for just a second longer than expected, before he finally gives you that familiar, playful smile. "So yeah. Try Again is coming out a few months before Sinners, stay tuned!" He finishes off, trying to keep a level of professionalism and privacy.

The words he says hit harder than expected, each one a tender reminder of what you once shared, what you’ve both  lost, and what could still be there, even in the quiet spaces between the two of you. 

After blinking back the tears a few times, almost as if you’re trying to keep the vulnerability at bay, but the sincerity in his voice has already cracked something wide open.

For a moment, it’s quiet. Your gaze softened but the way that your heart thudded against your chest made this feel way too real. You felt caught between the walls that you built and the person sitting across from her, the one that still knows you better than anyone else. You take a breath and turn slightly toward him, leaning in just enough to let him know you’re hearing him, really hearing him.

"You always did know how to make me feel like I was the only person in the room, even when we were surrounded by a hundred people." You smile, but it’s a little sad, a little too knowing. "I think that's why it was so easy to fall in love with you in the first place. You never treated me like I was just another face in the crowd. You saw me. And I... I didn’t always know how to be honest with you, even when I should’ve been. But maybe, I’ve learned a little more now. And I think that’s the thing that made me connect with Layla in the first place. She’s accomplished and driven and sometimes a little controlling but that’s only because she wanted the best for him. Quinten is kind, loving and friendly. I think sometimes to a fault because in the career that he’s in people will see that as an open invitation to be as sneaky and shitty as they can be. Even if it’s done quietly and he doesn’t really see it. We get to see their growth and communication throughout the film. And there’s aliens! So really stay tuned! "

His eyes linger on his, soft and steady, before Michael responds . "I think you're right. Maybe it’s not about going back to what they were. It’s about... accepting where they are now.I could talk so much about this and the process of bringing a script to life as an actor. But, we only have about 30 minutes for the discussion and they’re already signaling for us to wrap it up! We’re both yappers so we didn’t even get into half the things that we wanted to talk about. Round 2 on your podcast, Table Read? ”

He asks plugging your show at the end, but you both knew that it was just another reason for him to see you and spend more time with you. 

You let out a soft breath, eyes flicking down for a moment, then back up to meet his. “I’d like that, actually. There’s so many more things I'd love to get into with you and I’m sure they’d love to see it.” 

“Thank you so much for being here with us today and I’m truly sorry that all we did was yap the time away but look forward to Sinners with this large headed man and the incredible Lily Rose Depp. You can also look forward to our movie Try Again. Once again, thank you for having us.”

Once you wrap everything up and the director yells cut , Michael scoops you into a hug without much thought. 

“You smell good.” He says quietly and you just give into it, resting your head on his shoulder. 

As the cameras stop rolling and the director yells "cut," the room suddenly feels quieter, as if the world outside their conversation has been temporarily suspended. There’s a weight in the air, and for a second, you wonder if the moment has already passed—if you should just let it fade with the lights and the final words of the interview. But then Michael's arms are around you, pulling you into a hug without hesitation, like he’s waited for this exact moment.

"You smell good." he repeats, voice low and warm against the side of your neck.

The “reminds me of home” part swirling around his brain is silenced and you both settle into the hug.

For a moment, you don’t say anything. You just lean into him, your head resting on his shoulder, the familiarity of his embrace wrapping around you like a protective cocoon. The hug is long, comfortable, almost as if time has folded back to the years before everything shifted. Before the distance, the separation, the silence.

You breathe in his scent—something that’s distinctly him—and it hits you with the sudden realization of how much you missed this. How much you missed him.

"I didn’t know I missed this... until now," you admit softly, your voice barely above a whisper, vulnerable in the way only old friends or lovers can be.

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his face close but not too close. There’s something in his gaze, a mixture of longing and something more, something unspoken that lingers in the air between you. The laughter, the warmth, the smiles—they’re all still there. He hasn’t changed, not entirely. Neither have you.

"Yeah, I think we both didn’t realize how much we needed this," he murmurs, brushing a strand of hair away from your face, his hand lingering a moment longer than necessary. "But we can’t go back to where we were, can we?"

You meet his eyes, feeling the weight of those words, but there’s no sadness in them. Not really. It’s just the truth. You’ve both moved forward, but this moment, the connection between you, doesn’t need to be erased. It just needs to evolve.

“I don’t think it’s about going back," you reply slowly, voice steady. "I think it's just about... acknowledging it. Acknowledging that we’re here now, even if it’s different. But, different isn’t always a bad thing.”

Michael nods, the sadness in his eyes matching the quiet acknowledgment in your words. "Different can be a good thing."

For a moment, neither of you speak. The room around you feels like it’s frozen in time. The noise from the crew, the laughter from the makeup artists—it all feels so distant now, like they’re characters in their own story, while you and Michael are the ones still figuring out what comes next. There’s a kind of peace in that.

You finally pull away from him, offering a small, sincere smile. “I’m really glad we got to do this. It’s been... a long time.”

“It has,” he agrees, his voice soft. Then, with a playful grin, he adds, “Maybe we should stop making it so long next time?”

You laugh, and for the first time in ages, it feels effortless. You can almost hear the echo of that laughter from when you were both 16, the sound of two people who hadn’t yet learned how to let go of each other.

“I think I could manage that,” you tease back.

And just like that, the walls that had been built over the years seem to crumble, at least for a moment. The past isn’t gone, but it doesn’t feel as heavy anymore. It feels... shared. Real.

As you both make your way off set, you turn to him one last time. “Are you going to the Golden Globes lunch thing?”

He gives you one of those familiar, knowing smiles. “For sure. It’s on my schedule. You?”

“Yes.. It’s on mine too… See you there?”

“See you there-”

And with that, the chapter ends. Not with an answer, not with certainty, but with the soft, unspoken promise of maybe more. Maybe one day. But for now, you both step into separate futures, carrying pieces of each other with you—unspoken, untouched, and yet undeniably there.

@yaachtynoboat711 @fairyskiiess

[edit-by-riley]

last song: "talk to you" by alyssa payne! (i have to thank my insta fyp for this banger)

favourite colour: really deep, rich forest greens. also, the right shade of yellow

last book: circe by madeline miller (took me months to finish, but it was INCREDIBLE)

last movie: wicked!! (lovedlovedloved it)

last TV show: arcane!

sweet/spicy/savoury: sweet with a side of savoury! nothing like that salty-sweet combination (milka tuc chocolate, i love you forever)

last thing i searched online: efcharistó polí (because i dont trust my shitty greek spelling pfft)

current obsession: good omens never leaves me. neither does staged. (also, masters of sex. but i'm afraid to admit that on the www so pretend you didn't see anything.)

looking forward to: writing more, starting a new job and looking for an apartment, the next session for my new tattoo<3

@katspause THANKS FOR TAGGING ME MY LOVE, i feel so honored!!

now, most of the people i am tagging have already been tagged by kat (which is because we have the same mutuals). i also can't count, so there is NOT 10 lol.

if you've already done this, you didn't see anything! carry on, and mind how you go <3

@ineffableword @gribouli @itsscottiesstark @elenthyaolyenths @goodoldfashionedlovergirls-blog @cassiecasyl @itchiefeet @captainblou ... & @aydracz <3

10 People I'd Like to Know Better

Thanks for the tags @gaiaseyes451 and @beerok23!💜!💜

last song: Gloria by the Lumineers

favourite colour: Red, like a deep luscious red that you know would taste good if you licked it. Don't act innocent, you know exactly what I mean by that. Red is a color that you just know tastes good.

last book: I am currently trying to read the Witcher series (per @lickthecowhappy's suggestion) so I am at the start of the Last Wish

last movie: Moana 2 (I have young kidsssss)

last TV show: My oldest is almost 10 which means she stays up late. Which also means I have so little time to watch adult things. So we've been watching the Office with her. I think I want to watch the Good Place with her next tho (I've never watched it!)

sweet/spicy/savoury: Sweet followed very, very closely by spicy. Habanero maple syrup is one of my favorite things on the planet.

last thing i searched online: How to explain a 10 year career hiatus in a cover letter (looking to return to work since having kids. It's been an interesting experience so far).

current obsession: Have not moved on from Good Omens, but recently realized that my obsession may be more in my own little connected universe of fics that I wrote rather than the actual canon at this point😳. I'm sure once we get that first glimpse of red and white hair that will change very quickly.

looking forward to: Going back to work and having a more established adult life again, honestly. I've been so lucky to be home with my kids while they are young, but I am ready. And figuring out how my newfound passion for writing is going to fit into that new life of mine. Another big year of change over here for me, and I am eagerly looking forward to how the growing pains are going to make way for something beautiful beyond.

ten people i’d like to know better:

@addledmongoose, @di-42, @afrenchwriter, @haemey, @eybefioro, @alwaystuesday, @katspause, @alphacentaurinebula, @shadesofecclescakes, @ochre-sunflower and whoever wants to do it (but also feel free to ignore!)

[smoozie]

I feel like it is disingenuous to pretend that the relationship between an actor and a character they play on screen is the same as the relationship between a minecraft content creator and their persona in game

[radley-writes]

I don't understand people who say things like 'but it doesn't matter if we don't pay artists/writers for their labour, or use free AI programs to replace artists/writers to improve our profits, because in a perfect world everyone would have UBI so it wouldn't matter xxx'

like. yes. but until we reach that perfect world, artists and writers need to eat?

why are you promoting AI replacement of creative people instead of working towards UBI? Until we have UBI, supporting generative AI in the creative field is no different to supporting supermarkets laying off all their till staff to turn to self-check out, or supporting factories who shut down and move overseas to exploit workers in countries with fewer human rights legislations?

Yes, in a perfect world, everyone would receive UBI. Therefore, people across the globe couldn't be exploited by corporations, and artists could create for the joy of it, in whatever way we desire - including with AI!

But we do not live in that perfect world.

Do you seriously expect this move towards generative AI to encourage people to support UBI, as opposed to people being forced into jobs they hate to make ends meet or no longer being able to support themselves financially?

Especially all the disabled people who make a living creating art and writing/editing, because that is, in fact, a career that is often far more available to disabled folks than a regular 9-5 or a retail job where you're expected to be on your feet all day (miss my disabled ass with the 'anti-AI = ableism' stance lmao).

This is not going to create your army of revolutionaries. This is just going to result in more independent creators being crushed under the boot heel of capitalism, as anyone who would've hired them flocks instead to the free alternative, and they're forced back into an incredibly exploitative labour market.

I agree that generative AI by itself is just a tool and is not inherently a problem.

But it is being abused, in ways that hurt creators.

If you support generative AI... what are you doing about that?

[necrotic-nephilim]

How do you think bruce would react to a Robin pile situation?

oooh this is a fun thought. i think it depends *entirely* if you're working with a morally stable Bruce or a Bruce who's a little fucked up and dead dove-ish. somehow, i think it's actually more fun if it's a completely stable Bruce bc that adds so much more drama and issues if Bruce is deeply unsettled by the idea. if it was maybe just Jason and Dick or Jason and Tim dating that's sort of understandable. Bruce knows that while he may see them all as his sons (except Steph bc do know Robin pile will *always* include Steph for me and tbh Cass too as an honorary member. they're all going in the pile.) but he understands that doesn't mean they see each other as brothers. he respects the nuanced and complicated relationships scattered across all of the Batfam.

but if all of them are *dating*? or at the very least sleeping together? that raises a lot of logistical red flags. the most obvious one is the age gap of it all- at the biggest gap you have Damian and Dick who are an easy fifteen years apart, meeting when Damian is a kid. not to mention how many of them have tried to kill each other at some point. it shouldn't work and Bruce doesn't like that it does. Bruce has a history of wanting to control the relationships of the Batkids when he disapproves. and so he'd absolutely try to break them up. at first, he paints it purely as a logistical issue. saying it's smartest not to bring feelings into work and that this is dangerous. i think it's especially fun if this happens at a time when Bruce doesn't approve of Steph or Jason so that *also* plays into it, he doesn't want either of them near the ones he currently considers to be his family. he says he wants to protect them and wants to keep them safe. he tries to appeal to who he thinks would be more logical and listen to him the most. first Dick, and then when that doesn't work, Tim. and when neither of them listen, i *do* think Bruce would stoop to the low of trying to break them up by fabricating internal conflict between them, hoping to divide and conquer the weird polycule it's become.

while i don't think Bruce would be jealous in the sense he wants to be included, i *do* think he's wildly dislike the Robins having this close bond that makes them trust each other implicitly more than they trust Bruce. they will defer to each other before him and clearly keep things from him. he'd despise that. it's an inner circle he's not let in on and it makes him lose aspects of control over some of them, especially Damian who's the youngest and his son, who Bruce deserves the most control over. he would drive himself mad about it. at first for genuine reasons over the perceived fucked up nature of the relationship (even when each of them have confirmed that it is entirely consensual and they're happy) and to protect them. but he becomes so bitter over being ignored. they openly prioritize each other over him when the truth comes out because they see no point in hiding it. and i could definitely see Jason gloating about how he's back in the family whether Bruce likes it or not. Bruce would be beyond pissed about it. he's just never recovering. trying to stop them gets nowhere, even if he manages to cause some internal conflict.

eventually, Bruce would be forced to accept it for fear he would lose all of them. but he's *not* going to be happy about it and he keeps making side comments, hoping to get through to one of them eventually. it doesn't work, but he's definitely not going to stop trying. i also think on some level it would just disgust him a little bit in a visceral way, since they're his kids to him and he doesn't like to picture them in that way. esp when Jason or Steph lean heavily into PDA just to fuck with him. ass grabs, cuddling, sloppy kisses, the whole nine yards. Bruce will not have a moment of peace.

[chiarrara]

PART THR33 (finallyyyyyyyy):

so after all THAT nobara and megumi are, predictably, avoiding the subject... basically, they were both like "that's crazy, he's crazy right? that's crazy" and focused harder on the obvious distraction of liking yuuji. the whole thing seemed to calm down yuuji a bit though! he's being less cagey with them, and after a few days, the initial weirdness mostly calms down and things fall into a (three-way denial fueled) equilibrium

SCENE - INT. DINING HALL, MORNING

they're grabbing breakfast (again)(as you do) but nobara splits off to eat with the upperclassmen (N: "I don't wanna eat with you assholes today"; she already had plans to eat with maki)((she may also be avoiding one or the both of them))(((any reason honeslty, everyday is a new minefield with these losers)))

SIDE NOTE: for some reason in this, nobara developed a really contentious one-sided feud with yuuta. maki and yuuta might be a thing, or just besties, idrc because that has nothing to do with nobara's dislike of him (really, what it comes down to is in first year she didn't get to go to kyoto because "he won the exchange event last year" and she's held a grudge against him ever since) of course, he's very nice and welcoming to her at all times, which gives her lots of opportunites to snap back at him and roll her eyes and ignore him to talk to maki. he has no idea what's going on.

Things are awkward between yuuji and megumi. things have mostly gone back to normal but this is still the first time anyone's been alone with yuuji since the incident. they're pretty much just sitting in silence until yuuji breaks the tension.

Y: I can't believe gojo-sensei actually assigned us a reading this week. he's never done that before has he?

M: technically, he's supposed to assign readings every week. it just never matters if we actually read them or not.

Y: wait, really? but...didn't he say he was gonna quiz us?

M: it's probably just because he's going out of town all week. he has to pretend he's still teaching while he's gone.

Y: oh…so you think he's gonna forget by the time he gets back?

M: probably. but even if he doesn't-- you know, right after I graduated middle school gojo told me all of sudden there was an entrance exam for jujutsu tech.

Y: really!? but all I had to do was--

M: trust me I'm getting to that. he gave me like 700 pages of reading and told me I was gonna get tested on all of it. I spent the entire break pulling all-nighters, reading everything, reviewing it over and over, running practice exams and everything. Then I showed up on the first day.

Y: and?

M: Yaga-sensei beat the shit out of me.

Yuuji laughs. Megumi smiles.

Y: was anything in the reading helpful at least?

M: not even a little bit.

It's the first time Yuuji's laughed so easily around him since stuff got weird.

Y: what did Gojo say?

M: "I never said it would be a written exam"

Y: you're kidding

Across the room, Maki's glancing over Nobara's shoulder

Maki: looks like they're finally getting along again. shit's been weird with you three lately. (N: mm.)

Yuuta: the two of them would be cute together, don't you think? (N: glares)

Maki: How would Nobara feel about getting third wheeled in her little trio though?

Nobara peeks over her shoulder to see Megumi smiling softly at a grinning and laughing Yuuji, the two of them looking realllll cozy together.

Nobara: Whatever. I just don't want Yuuji to get a boyfriend before I do.

((((Maki: what about megumi? Nobara: couldn't care less))))

SCENE - EXT. TRAINING GROUNDS, AFTERNOON

that same afternoon, they're out getting ready for the afternoon training session. it's independently lead today. megumi's planning on training with his shikigami getting ready to do another subjugation ritual. he's warming up by himself a ways away from the other two. nobara gets her hammer and nails and approaches yuuji streching on the ground and asks him to spar with her

yuuji: I mean....okay, but are you sure? you're more of a ranged fighter, right? how well you can fight kinda depends on how well you can take advantage of your environment, especially one-on-one against a hand-to-hand fighter. and...well, we're in an open field.

nobara smirks (she's secretly always impressed by yuuji's fight sense, but she's also the most competitive person she knows): you scared?

yuuji looks back up at her, blinks at the challenge, then a smile slowly grows across his face. holding eye contact, he cocks his head and says: no way

they set up about 10 yards (meters) apart. yuuji's bouncing on his toes, rolling his shoulders ready to close the distance. he drops his chin and locks eyes with nobara. she slots three nails between her fingers on her left hand, adjusts her grip on her hammer and locks in.

nobara has to keep her heart from beating out of her chest

yuuji takes off, a huge burst of speed that kicks up the turf behind him. in practiced motions, nobara slams three nails in a spread pattern into the ground between them. the earth explodes in front of yuuji, breaking and shooting up into jagged crags of earth in his path. he skids, taken aback by a technique he didn't know she had. he quickly changes direction

nobara takes advantage of the moment when yuuji has lost the line of sight and quickly scales one of the new formations jutting out of the ground, pulling as many nails as she can hold at once out of her hip pack. the moment she sees yuuji veering around the obstruction, she shoots a nail directly at his head

he catches sight of her just before the nail whizzes past his face. he has to halt his movement and pull his head back to barely miss being hit. He uses the sudden stop to change directions again, and start bounding up the broken earth toward nobara

she shoots another, he dodges to the left. she shoots one more, and it catches him on the cheek. he doesn't even flinch, bounding forward until he's just a step away from catching up to her

nobara jumps backward off her perch and slides down another chunk of jutting turf, turning as yuuji jumps across to follow her. the moment he touches down, she shoots a nail into the ground right below his feet, destroying it.

she takes the opportunity to gain some distance, running away from the destroyed turf back into the open field. she'll only have a moment to do what she needs to do.

the ground explodes behind her in a crack followed by a blast that blows her hair around her and sends debris flying past. he'll be on her in seconds. if she's lucky

nobara pulls six nails out of her pack and floats five around her with cursed energy. she spins around, kneels down in the center and slams the last one into the ground, bringing all the others down with it and shooting cursed energy deep into the earth

immediately the ground beneath her shoots up into the sky carrying her up with it

the sudden upward momentum knocks the air out of her for a moment. she stabilizes herself on her hands and knees as the acceleration slows near the peak. she brings her eyes to the ground below her. yuuji is locked onto her, just below bouncing on his toes waiting for the moment she lands.

she reaches the peak and her stomach lurches as she comes to a stop. she takes a deep breath.

the moment the ground begins to fall she stands, reaches out with her cursed energy, and takes aim

one shot to the right. he dodges and rolls. but as he moves to pop back up, he's jerked back by his left arm, stuck to the ground. his head flicks over to see what's holding him back, but the nail she shot is feet away from him. nobara smirks.

three more shots. his right arm is pinned down. then his right leg. and his left.

she launches herself off the chunk of land just before it crashes back into the ground and lands kneeled over yuuji, a nail to his head, hammer over her head

"i win"

yuuji's shocked face pulls into a wide smile as his eyes light up and his body relaxes

"how'd you do that?"

she smiles, and pokes him in the cheek where the nail grazed him at the start of the fight.

"that tiny bit of blood?"

she nods

"on one nail?"

she nods again and smiles

"no way....when did you learn all this?"

"maybe i've been practicing when you weren't paying attention"

"you're amazing, kugisaki"

the praise shoots electricity straight down her spine and sets her skin on fire.

"yeah. i am." she tries to maintain an air of confidence, turning away as her face heats up. she drops her cursed technique freeing yuuji from being pinned to the ground and moves to stand up.

the moment the curse drops he hooks his leg around hers, one hand presses into her shoulder and the other wraps around her waist. before she can process, he's flipped her onto her back, pinning her down by her wrist, immobilizing the hand that holds her hammer. he smirks down at her.

"I win"

nobara's heart is going to kill her. yuuji's face, inches from hers, self-satisfied grin and sparkling eyes is going to kill her.

"get off me, loser" she pushes him off with one foot. He falls off easily laughing.

"let's call it a draw!"

"no way!"

he laughs harder. megumi watches them from across the destroyed landscape. nobara is pushing herself off the ground flicking dirt and grass off her uniform while yuuji is laid out on the ground beside her. she's frowning, but her face is flushed. he knows it's not from effort.

"other people have to train here you know" he mumbles to himself. he's definitely mad about the damage. only the damage. he's not getting anything done today.

SCENE - INT. DORM HALLWAY, EVENING

that night, nobara knocks on megumi's door again for the first time since the incident. she slips in quietly and shuts the door with a soft click. they hold tense eye contact from across the room before nobara finally speaks

n: you think you're slick?

m: what?

n: i saw you flirting up a storm with yuuji at breakfast.

megumi slams his book closed

n: "oh yuuji, you're so funny, yuuuji. let me bat my eyes at you some more yuuuuuji!"

m: I was flirting?? (he gets up from his bed) "spar with me yuuji-kun! let me show my moves yuuji-kuuun! oops i'm straddling you yuuji-kuuuun!"

he's halfway across the room taunting her

n: i don't know who the fuck you think you're talking about, cause I know it's not me

she's halfway across the room up in his face

n: sounds like you're jealous

m: i'm not jealous

n: so you're a liar too

m: (softer this time) not a liar...

megumi's looking down into her eyes, she's glaring up into his. his eyes drop to her lips. nobara just deflates like we're doing this again, huh? megumi just shrugs like can't help it. in moments, they're all over each other again, falling back onto his bed, wrinkling the sheets, and rolling awkwardly over the book he deposited there earlier.

nobara slides her hands into megumi's hair and pulls, he gasps and bites her lip. she pulls her lip through his teeth and sits back breathing heavily. megumi catches her eye and they pause.

he shakes his head and pulls her back in.

"let's not talk about it yet"

she nods and crashes back into him.

once they've worked off the initial burst of energy, slowing down until nobara's forehead is pressed against megumi's, breathing evenly, his hands holding her lower back and waist, neither of them making direct eye contact, she falls to the side and burys her face in the bedding.

m: soooo....

n: (groans)

m: we should probably talk about it now

nobara turns her head to look at him, her face still half squished against the mattress, pouting

m: nobara...what are we?

END OF PART 3, PART 4 GONNA BE WILD GET READY

new itfskg based on a hc post i saw on here in my fugue state rbing last night i'll add a screenshot or link or smth later maybe idk. okay so baskially how it goes:

megumi and nobara both have a crush on yuuji. this is especially hard for nobara bc she spent the whole first let's say year of their friendship being extremely vocal about how she'd never be into either of them but oops! she got too comfy and caught feelings

nobara eventually breaks down and goes to fushiguro to lament her plight and ask for advice. she's dramatically revealing the source of her suffering when his face gives him away (a big ol "oh no" written on his forehead) (N: what's that face? M: what face... N: oh my god... do you like him too???) (Megumi doesn't say shit cause he's a repressed loser embarrassed of having feelings)

Turns out meg's had a crush on yuuji basically since he met him. he didn't realize it at first of course cause he's way too good at lying to himself. not that good though. he's been silently fostering a deep deep crush for months.

having learned all this, for the next few weeks, nobara starts visiting fushiguro in his dorm anytime she's too overwhelmed by annoying feelings, or pulling him aside during downtime to let off steam, sharing knowing glances and silent communications across rooms. megu's surprisingly glad to have someone to confide in, especially in a way where he's not the center of attention. Since they're both pathetic losers with a crush, he finds it's easier to talk about his feelings than with anything before.

regularly commiserating about how down bad they both are leads nobara and megumi to spend more time separated from yuuji. it's really good for their friendship actually. previously they were both a bit closer to yuuji than to each other, but having a crush to bond over gives them a lot to talk about. yuuji does notice they're spending more time together. and without him. wonder how he feels about that..

one night, nobara barges into megumi's room to complain about yuuji being way too cute and funny at dinner or something while megumi's laying in bed reading. she just plops down half on top of him and starts in. He reluctantly puts his book down but he doesn't object. they've gotten pretty used to each other. so she's going off, grumbling into his shoulder, gripping his sweatshirt out of frustration, and when she looks up, fushiguro looks down at her. their faces less than a foot apart as she's leaning into him, lying together in his bed and...

N: what's that face

M: what face?

he looks away. nobara turns his face back to hers

N: that face

M: (without breaking *very intense* eye contact) I dont' know what you're talking about

they make out

it's very much teenagers with a lot of pent up energy that needs to go somewhere fooling around like teenagers with pent up energy that needs to go somewhere. they kind of crash together, they're grabbing at arms and shoulders and faces, pulling each other as close as they can without ever breaking the kiss. At one point, nobara in readjusting to keep from falling off the bed ends up on top of megumi, knees on either side of his hips, one hand propping herself up and one gripped in the fabric of his sweatshirt. he pulls her into him and rolls them over so they're chest to chest with him on top. he's pushes his hands into her hair, she wraps her arms around his back and twists her leg around h--

two knocks and the door opens

"Hey Fushiguro, I wanted to see if you..."

Yuuji's halfway through the doorway and his face is morphing into the picture of absolute despair

megumi and nobara are...like this

(they're not naked, they're just microsoft paint stick people)

"Oh, I'm sorry... I didn't mean to... I'll just..." Yuuji sputters and stumbles out the door.

(simultaneously) M: Shit.. N: Fuck!

so the mood's kiiinda dead.... megumi ends up leaned up against the wall with his head in his hands. nobara's staring blankly at the ceiling. Eventually, nobara says, "did you see his face?" M: "mm" N: "so...which one of us do you think he likes?"

---END OF PART ONE---

(I'll continue it in like... 5 minutes probably)

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

the x files au where everything is exactly the same except mulder takes home the child neanderthal from the jersey devil episode and raises them as his own

[lala-blahblah]

I will never make this because it would be for an audience of one (me) but ever since reading "If we Were Villains" (story about serious drama kids in college who perform shakespeare and deal with a murder) I have been entertaining the thought of a crack fic crossover with High School Musical The Musical The Series where the staff decides they will no longer put on shakespeare after the tragic accident that happened at Thanksgiving, because Shakespeare plays would only increase the tension and drama. So they hire Ms. Jen who decides their spring play will actually be High School Musical (which exists in the 90s in this universe) and it ruins the vibe so much that everyone gives up on being dark and mysterious because they're universally pissed at Ms Jen for making them learn choreoraphed basketball dancing.

[aerithisms]

rotating the pub scene from 73 yards in my mind i think there is so much being said there about wales and welsh/english tension that is so interesting and is going so under discussed

[menodoramoon]

That's the thing about Menodora. She doesn't grow. She holds all thought thoughts -- those seedlings of awareness and observations -- close to her chest and in the back of her mind. She doesn't allow them to morph and change and metamorphosize into new ideas, new actions, new intents. She's never allowed those crocuses to break through the snow. Never permitting those Irises to see the light. Oh… how charming, she thinks. How funny. How fitting.

She sees Tófi in different lights. The illusion of their human self and the truth of their monstrous one. They watch them closely, a look of contemplation of her face. In that alternate 1815, she's loved them as their true self. In that alternate game of gods and monsters, they'd been more human. But those dreams didn't happen. Tófi would chide her for letting her mind wander back.

All of that to say, reconciling who they were had always been difficult. It's harder now, to think of them as a person who felt. And what did they feel besides rage and a thirst for vengeance? Is it so cliche to say that Tófi felt misunderstood? As childish as that word may seem, it felt like the truest thing to her. She misunderstood them time and time again. Underestimated them, overestimated them. Didn't know them as she thought she did or perhaps knew more aspects of them better than they knew her to.

She's somehow charmed by the turn her mind takes, the vague recognitions and reacquainting they're doing. This is not like the beginning of the year where they renewed their friendship. They tore down their relationship today in fire to begin to forge it anew. Perhaps Tófi would burn her in the future as she'd burned them. But it would be earned. And that, in itself, felt right.

"You love more than those, Tófi of Septarsis," Menodora chides. Her tone takes on one where she may tease a wayward ambassador. Where she is delightfully coy with her knowledge. "Don't lie to us when you demand so much truth of me."

Those smiles she gives them hurt her head. Ping lightly, like a pin dropping to the floor, against her senses.

"If things were any different, we may be happier people. Or not," she says, her voice lighter. Pained, but lighter. This discussion is taking a toll on her, her wick was quickly being burnt through. "Because if I am happier, that must mean I'm being ignorant to your plight. And if you were happier or contended, I don't know if I'd be standing here."

She purses her lips for a moment, closes her eyes against the brightness of the hall. It feels like stepping out of darkness into the daylight, bright and blinding. She would love to live in her oblivion, pretend all was well and ignore the pain Tófi hides. She remembers how Tófi had reprimanded her in the dream, reminding her how light could blind. It revealed the worst bits of you, exposed you and laid every bit of you bare.

Could Menodora handle the truth of herself? The facts of matters she tried so hard to -- for so long succeeded to -- repress.

Tófi seems to hold tight to their even tone, their humorless tone. She can't help but raise a brow, even if it's ill-advised over her worsening headache.

"What I'm hearing, Mr Sethson," she says, with that same teasing, playful look as before, "is that you want to watch me sleep." But she's not serious. That much was written across her features. If she were bolder, she may have said something sharper. Something more accusatory. Instead, she hums a soft smile, the slight reverberation on her lips. "It's noble of you to offer keeping vigil, though. Almost sweet, though I don't think sweet is the word I'd use to describe you."

Every external upturn of her lips is a downturn of her mind. And eventually, she knows she'll give out. Her banter is temporary. Exhaustion is a shadow, slowly consuming her.

When she observes them, they're observing her back. She's watching for a hint of a smile. They're watching for the eventual overwhelming of weakness.

It was a dance they'd done when she was a child. Physically, she's only been as tall as maybe his heart when she first knew of their truest face. Now, she could stand on her toes and brush her nose against theirs, their familiarity eye-to-eye.

"Why, Tófi," she says, humor evident but her strength fading, "it almost sounds like you want an excuse to carry me."

Are they twenty feet from reprieve or two hundred? This house couldn't be that big, their manner of manor was surely not that expansive. Even if taking one more step felt like the effort of wading through deep water.

If they lingered any more in the hall, Tófi would have no choice unless they were content with 'rest' being synonymous with her crumpled, unconscious on their hallway floor.

She's a moment from a delirious laugh. Settles for an exhale. Shuts her eyes as the thrumming and drumming and darkness in her ears rises.

"I'll permit it, just this once, if you're still offering."

@ofseptarsis

genfødte sandheder || Tófi & Moon