#fuck phy. phy has no rights.

[volivolition]

dude the TOP song you posted (truce) fucking kills me and the way you described the animatic is??? so good???? I'd bawl actually /pos

I need to know if there's any other TOP songs you relate to the furies/any DE character really, or any slower songs even if they aren't by TOP

OH AGREED ABSOLUTELY!! TRUCE MY BELOVED... and THANK YOU!! we are imagining animatics and crying together! /pos :'] <3

ooh!! well, i havent listened to a lot of TOP in a while, so i don't have many recommendations there unfortunately :'] but for other slow, soft songs, let's see... i'll put them under a cut with all my explanations, but ☀️ "See The Day" by The Altogether (Volition song!), 🍃 "Rounds" by The Oh Hellos (Shivers song!), 🦋 "Would You Be So Kind" by dodie (general skills song, Suggestion primarily!) are the best contenders!

Pretty sure you've seen it already, but from a different ask, i recommend "Almost (Sweet Music)" by Hozier! (and "Like Real People Do" if you want to cry and yearn with me, though my DE ideas for it are very loose hkjhg) these are slow ones i like hkjhg <3

"Goodbye" by The Altogether is a Harry and Dora song :0

"Soldier, Poet, King" by The Oh Hellos is one i specifically relate to Volition (my beloved protector/motivator/crownhead blorbo! [picks him up and wiggles him!!!]), but i would make one of those animation memes for it with every skill slotted into a "soldier" "poet" or "king" position.

☀️ "See the Day" is both another The Altogether song and another Volition song! a real "the worst is over. we made it through. we're going to survive this. it might not get easier yet, but we'll come out the other side and we'll be alive" song. it makes me cry hkjgh

🍃 "Rounds" by The Oh Hellos is a soft Shivers song, though the lyrics don't start until halfway in. ough my god listening to it makes my heart ache (/pos) <3 La Revacholiere singing to Harry in the wind. "Will you start when I end? Yeah, I'm long in the wind..."

"Northern Star" by Dom Fera, a song Harry would sing for karaoke and dedicate to Kim, and then they'd waltz a little clumsily on the dim, starlit sidewalk on their way home for the evening... <3

🦋 "Would You Be So Kind?" by dodie BUT SPECIFICALLY THIS VERSION, because i love everyone's crowded but earnest vibes. this one is led by Suggestion ("oooh you wanna fall in love with us so bad right? right???") and makes me grin, you GOTTA imagine all of the skills squished together in the front of Harry's brain all trying different tactics to get Kim to fall in love with them, (rhetoric: "I HAVE A QUESTION..." ency: "let's write a story! be in my book!") at 2:35, after all the skills singing together loudly, it's just Harry himself singing to Kim, with all the skills slowly backing him up. the ending is all of them fucking ECSTATIC celebrating when harry finally kisses kim hkjhg jesus this'd be so cute hold on i have to go plan this out i have so many thoughts hkjdh

"Seven" by Sleeping at Last would be a sweet Reaction Speed song (ironic that im adding react speed to a list of soft, slow songs though hkjgh) "I'm ready for whatever comes next!" <3 Reaction Speed is a fast, restless little fella who can't sit still for long, always loves moving, acting, doing. he's like the personification of a verb hkjhg <3 i would also accept an interpretation for echem <3

"Cosmos" by Jawbreaker Reunion is a song that The Furies recently suggested to me as a jean song and it's so right for that, very soft and i like it very much :'] (you should also ask The Furies if you want to, it's much more musically inclined than me, i feel hkjhg <3)

awuahg thank you for asking and for reading!! i appreciate it!! <33

oh and here's links to all of the songs in the tags: Come Together Now, Two, Four, Five, Six, Eight, Nine, RPG Animation Meme (<- homestuck lmao)

[loveinhawkins]

During the tail end of November 1984, the stars align in cruel and unusual ways: Eddie ends up sharing a compulsory Phys Ed. class with both Steve Harrington and Billy Hargrove.

Eddie groans when he find out, slams his forehead against his locker when no-one’s looking.

And the thing is, Steve isn’t the problem, not really. In fact, if he had been sharing the class with Steve alone, Eddie might’ve even considered it proof of some benevolent God existing. He’d probably have a few stressful occasions of trying not to make a complete fool out of himself—team sports are truly the worst, although he’s secretly not that bad of a soccer player—but at least he’d have a… nice view.

But no. Instead, the almighty schedulers of the Hawkins High timetable have decided to light the proverbial fuse.

Because sure, Steve’s known for being competitive, even borderline pissy if things don’t go his way on the basketball court. One would probably be subject to his baleful eyes for, like, five minutes at most before he got over it.

Hargrove, on the other hand, is another kettle of fish. In fact, he’s in a completely different fucking ocean.

He stalks through the school like a bloodthirsty gladiator, treats the gym like it’s his personal Coliseum.

Eddie honestly doesn’t know what the deal is, but he only has to witness Hargrove stare at Steve once from across the cafeteria to know that he loathes him. And from the quietly venomous look Steve gave in return, the feeling is definitely mutual.

So now he’s got to suffer through an entire period of playing baseball outside with the pair of them glaring daggers at each other. In a hilariously misguided attempt at easing the obvious tension, the teacher’s put Steve and Hargrove on the same team: Hargrove’s a center fielder and Steve’s the pitcher.

It’s neck and neck. Eddie is the last up to bat.

He steps forward with sweaty palms.

He’s got absolutely zero interest in being witness to the Hargrove v Harrington dick-measuring contest for any longer than he has to.

Please just let the ball be caught immediately, Eddie silently prays. Make my execution swift and painless.

“Hey, batter, batter,” Hargrove calls with his usual menacing sleaze.

Fucking juvenile.

Annoyingly, when Hargrove predictably yells, “Swing!”, it still makes Eddie jolt, swinging the bat on impulse.

But Steve’s not thrown the ball yet; he’s still tossing it up into the air, like he’s got all the time in the world.

Okay, I know you’re pissed, but quit the mind games, Harrington.

Steve catches Eddie’s eye, gaze lingering too long for it to be a coincidence. Then he drops the ball.

Billy chuckles. “Still clumsy, huh, King Steve?”

Steve rolls his eyes. He bends down to pick up the ball.

Even from this distance, the fading bruise on his cheekbone is easy to spot.

Eddie doesn’t like to think about it too often, especially when paired with the nasty gleam in Hargrove’s eyes. It makes his stomach sink.

Steve picks up the ball with one hand, but he stays low, one knee to the ground.

And then…

When he speaks, his lips barely move. “Hey, Munson. Left-handed, right?”

Bewildered, Eddie nods.

Steve stands up.

Eddie’s expecting to be caught off guard, for the ball to suddenly spin towards him.

Steve shrugs one shoulder back, looks Eddie right in the eye.

He mouths, Ready?

… What the fuck?

Eddie nods again.

Steve throws the ball, and it feels as if it’s being drawn, like an irresistible magnet, right to Eddie’s bat.

Eddie swings.

Crack.

The ball soars.

Eddie sees Hargrove’s jaw drop, hears him swear as he dives for the ball. He misses, sprints after it as it speeds through the grass—

Steve laughs. “Dude, what are you waiting for? Run!”

Eddie does.

He hits a home run before Hargrove can even attempt to throw the ball near him.

Breathless and grinning, Eddie lies down with his back on the ground, as his teammates cheer.

But someone else is by far the loudest.

Eddie sits up to see Steve yelling in triumph, hands cupped around his mouth.

Then he winks.

And Eddie thinks he’s never seen Steve Harrington look more delighted to lose.

[wraithdance]

Stray Dogs | GHOAP x Reader

Synopsis: You never had a problem with strays, but you should have been wary of the rabid dogs begging to be leashed.

Note: F!Reader, No phys. description but reader has background story, no y/n use, Reader is LGBTQ (Bi/Pan) w/ Avoidant attachment issues. Content warning: Mature | avoidant attachment traits, mentions of slight self harming behavior, sexually explicit content, mentions of p in v sex, description of ptsd episode, brief mention of animal death plz skip the last sentence if that may be a trigger.

Chapter two: Soap won’t go home

[4:57 AM]

You were not ‘blissfully slumbering in no time’.

Instead you were having another panic attack in a bathroom.

It would be a consolation that this time you’re at home, but you know for a fact that the Scot you let come over for a quick screw is outside the door waiting. The thought brings more hot angry tears down your cheeks as another bout of trembling makes your teeth chatter violently. 

Johnny knocks on the door again. “Hen, are ye okay?”

You hope he feels your glare burning through the plywood separating you both. It’s so tempting to shriek ‘what the fuck do you think?’, maybe it would even be cathartic.

You wish you could say it. Mean and cruel in return for the simple kindness of asking after your rightness in the world. But the same something that always sits on your chest when you think about doing what you really want constricts you like a Boa.

Swallowing the bitter angry words like thick cough syrup you bite out a shaky, “I’m fine.” 

You know he doesn’t believe you, you can hear his weight shift on the creaky tile in front of the door that you never got around to fixing.

“Bonnie, can ye open the door, just want to check on ye.”

You turn on the tap to the bathtub instead to drown him out. Shoving your hands under the scalding hot water, attempting to focus on trying to get the freezing chill out of your limbs. 

Everything had been going so well. 

Johnny fucked like a dog. A dirty disgusting dog that wouldn’t take his tongue or cock out of your body long enough for you to think much less breathe. He’d had no issue with letting you dominate, had enthusiastically agreed after sloppily and relentlessly coaxing orgasm after orgasm out of you with his tongue and fingers. 

There was a point you thought you might have died a little, as the time between him pressing an exploratory tongue into your asshole before licking up to your clit with harsh pulls, evaporated.

You’d suddenly come back to reality to him pumping two, then three fingers into your sex and tapping on the bundle of nerves inside your body in a come hither motion.

Johnny had worn a self satisfied, shit eating grin on his face when he’d finally come up for air. His jaw and throat slick with your fluids. He’d been anything but subtle about how much it turned him on to see you fucked out and barely functioning.

It’d hurt your ego more than just a little bit. You’d prided yourself on being the one to leave your partners in utter bliss.

It was the least you could do for being a no good, emotionally destitute that only hurt them in the end.

With the intent to redeem yourself you had pushed him to the floor none too lightly, dropping to your knees and diving for his swollen cock. He’d tried to pull your hair and rut into your throat before you bit the skin at his hip and snarled threats at him. It only made the bastard harder.

You’d swallowed him deep, humming around the saliva and solid length of him, satisfied with the roar he lets out in his release.

It took him less than ten minutes to get hard again. He’d pouted at the box of condoms you’d thrown at him but had been pleased when you rolled the latex on his reddened shaft with your mouth.

That’s how you found yourself boneless on top of his body as he pressed long, steady strokes into your cunt. You’d ridden him for as long as you could before the burn in your knees and thighs became too much. Johnny cooed sticky sweet things in your ears with his arms wrapped tight around you like a vice.

“Aye hen are ye tired? Let Johnny make it better, just open for me, I’ll make it better, promise, look at ye, pretty thing I’ve got ya.” Every other word enunciated with an upward thrust.

“Aye I gotcha, yer doing good hen.” He’d panted in your ear with a rasp.

The combination of him hitting the spot deep inside of you like a game of ring the bell and the crooning affirmations, had been too much. To your horror your eyes had prickled with tears. You’d bitten the inside of your lips raw, desperately trying to muffle the broken sobs that clawed up your throat, pushing back against his chest fighting for space. 

Johnny had held you tighter, one palm against your back and the other tight around your neck as he worked you both through a pitiful orgasm that had you seeing stars. Until he’d flipped you over, pinning you into a mating press. 

You’d hyperventilated until you blacked out.

You’re scowling at the way your skin puckers beneath the rushing water. You’re still numb. The trauma therapist at the psych hospital was full of it, distress tolerance didn't actually do shit for distress.

The bathroom lock jiggles and you’re whipping your head to the opening door in panic as it swings open. 

Johnny’s blue eyes are remorseful but that quickly turns to horror. You jerk your arm out from under the water and try to hide it behind your side but Johnny is faster. He’s across the floor in less than two wide strides and forcing your arm from behind you despite your jerking.

“What are ye doing? Hen, look at your arm!”

“I was checking the temperature, I’m fine.” He gives you a look of disbelief and grunts something unintelligible under his breath. He ignores your protests and shuts off the water, freezing you with a warning look when you lift your hand to stop him. 

In the sudden quiet he searches your face, you glower. 

“Come here.”

He doesn’t wait for you to decide to be cooperative, he’s maneuvering his hands around you, one on the back of your neck and the other beneath your chin. Johnny sinks to the bathroom floor to his knees and presses his forehead against yours. 

“Breathe for me, ye can do it bonnie, deep breaths.”

He’s too close. His breath fans across your face, the sensation shocking a sob out of you.  You’re stiffening with panic at the sudden flood of feeling racing down your spine. 

“I’m fine, I just need you to back up-” 

Johnny thumbs his finger across your jaw in slow swiping movements. 

“Breathe. I’m nae asking.”

Fuck.

You take stuttering breaths, he counts each one telling you to hold on the exhale.

In. Out. Good lass, I’ve got ye.

He’s lying to you. But you do what he asks anyway.

Johnny lets you pull back only when the trembling stops. His watchful eyes are bright. Soft. It makes your stomach churn.

“I’m good.” you whisper “You don’t have to stay.” 

He gets the double meaning you're only marginally trying to cover up. Instead of offense he’s smirking and there’s a layered glint in his eyes, like you’ve challenged him.

“Are ye tryin’ to get rid of me?”

Yes!

“No,” Standing from the lip of the tub, you try to side-step his large form. He watches you like a hawk, observing your awkward inch towards the door into the darkened hallway.  “I just have an early morning, so I should get some rest, I’m sorry.”

Letting out a humorless laugh he rolls his shoulders back, ambling to his feet. He keeps an eye on your skittish retreat, taking a step for every one of your own until he’s in the doorway, lifting his arms to hold on to the frame. 

It’s the first time you notice he’s still bare ass naked. 

Tan skin and darkened hair coat the expanse of his body along with various scarring. You’re staring at the small circular puckered skin on his thigh when his cock twitches where it hangs. 

Johnny’s wolfish grin makes an appearance at your grimace.

“Aye, he’s a bit tuckered out as well, hen.” The Scot reaches for you, rubbing his hands down your arms, tucking his thumb beneath his stolen shirt, “We should get some sleep, yeah?”

No, not yeah. He really needed to get the fuck out.

You stiffen in his hold, panic rising in your chest rapidly and he notices. Johnny pulls back to look at you, guiding your chin back to face him when you try to duck your face. He tells you to breathe deep, you hate that you follow his instructions again.

“Ye won’t even know I’m here, promise. C’mon hen, I’ll make ye some tea.”

You’re quietly watching him from your seat at the island. He’s too comfortable in your small kitchen, yawning while he waits for the ancient kettle to heat up.

His thick arms are crossed against his chest and his head nods off as he falls asleep while standing. He’d had the decency to retrieve his boxers when you’d protested about his dick hanging around your food stuff.

You pick at the hangnail on your index finger until it bleeds.

“Why did you defend me?”

Johnny blinks, confusedly coming back from his half sleep. “What’s that, Bonnie?” 

“Tonight,” you say slowly, “why did you fight that guy at the bar? It was because of me right?”

Johnny is quiet. You’d suspect he’d fallen asleep with his eyes open but he cracks his neck after a beat.

“Cause you look like ye needed defending. Didnae like his gommy mug eith’r.”

That causes you to shift in the stool. Johnny takes the kettle off of the stove eye and pours the water over the expired green tea packet he’d found hidden in the depths of your cupboards. When he places down the cat mug Duckie had gotten you for your birthday in front of you, you hesitantly speak.  

“What do you mean by that? That I needed defending?”

Johnny looks like he’s weighing his options before he answers. Furrowed brow and dark lashes partially obscure his electric eyes but don’t dampen the intensity of his gaze. When he concludes some kind of internal war he leans his elbow on the counter in front of you and boxes you in. His eyes tighten at the corners when you lean as far back in the chair as you can. 

“Never been one to walk by when a bonnie lass is in trouble and you looked like ye were on the way to makin’ trouble. Had this look in yer eyes.”

You pretend to not know what he’s talking about. “So if you thought I was ugly you’d have let him maul me?”

His laugh is too boisterous for the early morning, it echoes in the small kitchen. It sends warmth down to your toes to hear it. “Nae I’d ‘ave still hit him, hen. Drink yer tea for Johnny yea?”  

He makes sure you finish every drop, rolling his eyes when you dump enough sugar to rot your teeth. He says something about you being like a stubborn friend of his but refuses to elaborate.

It’s a quarter past six by the time he argues you down about letting him stay with you. His wide form swallows up half the mattress and he still pulls you to him like it’s not enough. Your skin prickles where his touches, the synapses in your brain telling you to distance yourself as fast as you can. Johnny’s hold is tight, he redirects your form back into his every time you try to slip away, so you give up.

You have restless dreams of your grandfather’s rooster, Spirit.  The sound of the bird's neck snapping as corporeal and audible as Johnny’s snores against your neck.

A/N: plz I beg, don't ask me when the next update will be. I am insane in a way that is concerning to the DSM-5 and this takes a lot of my own personal experience and years of therapy to write lmao. Gonna up the rating in the upcoming chapters and start diving into the juicy shit so warning in advance.

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[demonzoro]

none of this is proofread but here's my ideal modern au for the goth fam. wall of text incoming, sky is blue, etc.

mihawk: World's Most Reluctant College Professor. history/archaeology. reluctantly employed because his place of residence (half-wrecked castle) is owned by the university and one of the terms for him to live there for free is to teach classes. initially hired as a publicity stunt that petered out. actual respected swordsman in the modern age but the reality is "swordsman" is... not very lucrative. really important to me that he is forcibly employed while having gigantic unemployed energy.

his ass is not showing up to a lecture hall unless under extreme duress (shanks showing up to his place unannounced again🙄). fully aware his papers are only taken as a credit filler (robin lectures the papers that are more practically applicable). almost exclusively "teaches" by emailing out reading lists and assignments. actively trying to get his students to drop his paper so he can do fuck-all for the rest of the year.

zoro: phys ed major. he's so serious about his main courses as well as mihawk's stupidly niche paper. probably the first person the "Dracule Mihawk Teaches Here!" publicity stunt has worked on in years. has trouble with the heavy focus of book-smarts this paper requires but powers through it best he can until mihawk sets some indecipherable tome as part of a reading list and zoro is like. okay. you leave me no choice.

he fully shows up on mihawk's doorstep at 9:44PM on a tuesday night brandishing this tome. mihawk answers the door because he is two bottles into his wine.

zoro, furious that this piece of shit tome has no audiobook alternative: this. YOU. explain. NOW. mihawk: a student. at my doorstep. did shanks blab to you. zoro: your address is publicly listed as a minor tourist attraction. mihawk (<- didn't know that): hm. come in.

zoro is treated to a full drunk history session and the supermarket gift wine mihawk has been avoiding but accidentally opened. he wakes up the next morning and zoro is still there in one of the guest rooms. he's like what are you doing here and zoro is like. i don't have a whole day to waste getting back to my dorm i need to do your assignment.

mihawk, fully aware the dorms should only be a max twenty minute walk away: interesting. get out.

safe to say, zoro thinks visiting mihawk's home is easier than emailing him. which is true in some ways since mihawk takes small joys in putting unread emails straight into trash.

perona: fashion major OBVIOUSLY. really interested finding vintage/archival sewing patterns/designs and modernising them. LOVES using essays as outlets for her rants. blase on everything else in life but takes her course so seriously. HATES zoro ever since he almost made her fail an assignment because he had checked out a book she needed and held it for fucking aaages.

similarly zoro hates perona bc she almost made him fail an assignment by hogging the only lightbox on this side of the campus that makes it possible to read some of the archival material mihawk puts on his impossible reading lists.

zoro gets lost in mihawk's castle and meets perona in-person for the first time outside of a name on a booking sheet and they have a huge stupid argument. zoro storms off and accidentally finds mihawk again this way and he's doubly mad because he can't believe mihawk has been chasing him away all this time while letting another student just live in the east wing.

mihawk (<- didn't know that): there's a what.

turns out perona just said "umm dorm fees? rent? in this economy? there's a wrecked castle 20mins away from campus it's free real estate". and she's right. she also finds out mihawk has staff access to archival materials not readily open to students and she immediately whips out a wishlist.

anyways i imagine perona graduates and becomes a fashion designer. zoro decides booksmarts is not for him and drops out to focus fully on a professional athlete career or make his way as a stuntman. models for perona on occasion. mihawk fully quits his job after those two leave bc they were the only ones in years that made it interesting. retires but robin recommends him as a consultant to the museum society and he does some work there. ALWAYS calls zoro or perona if he's restoring smthng cool he thinks they would love.

jfc are you still here. i kiss you on the lips

[malehypnofantasy]

Casey pretty much loathed the life he got to endure in uni. The past 3 years has been nothing but hell for him with all the isolation, bullying and the way some of his professors turned out to be major dickhead that either treated him like crap or took credit of his brilliance for themselves when they wouldn't even be able to finish their researches without his help or insight. He hated the fact that despite being smarter then most people, he's overlooked and swept aside just because he doesn't have the authority or the look that could help him gain the spotlight he knew he deserved. Until one eventful night when he turned 21 and his body started to glow in the middle of the night while his jackass of a roommate Ethan slept like a log as he's too spent after fucking his girlfriend like rabbit in the opposite bed.

The following morning, Casey realized that something clearly is different from the way he looked in the mirror. He's more.....radiant, and his eyes sparkled brilliantly under the bathroom light. That's when all in a sudden, Lila, Ethan's girlfriend, appeared right next to him as she opened the bathroom door

"Happy birthday Casey. You probably haven't fully realized it but let me help you out," she said with a rather monotone voice as she suddenly grabbed Casey's head and her eyes started to glow

Flow of memories of ancient practices and secret tradition of his family freely went right into his brain, injected his head with ideas and capability beyond his usual mortal knowledge. His whole body radiantly glow as the memories filled every corner of his body so he could wield the magical power that belong to his family since he's a responsible adult in their eyes upon celebrating his 21st birthday. When Lila eventually dropped to the floor as the messenger that possessed her went away, Casey looked at her with different gaze. The once unapproachable and mean cheerleader co-captain now looked like nothing but a distraction to him, so he forcefully woke her up and made her leave the room with not a single word said. The recently powered magician then turned his attention to his douchebag of a roommate, smirking at his slumbering muscular form that would soon become his plaything

Truth be told, Casey utilized the gym rat's body as his lab rat. He doesn't know how far of a control he can wield and exercise upon other people or what kind of other powers his body can manage, but another messenger from his family already informed him that he doesn't necessarily have the physical prowess to handle too big of a power so he needs to not only train his magic, but also his physique. But before working on his physique, he decided to test how far he can control another people through his words and Ethan came in handy in that regards. Ethan was unaware this whole time that he has been subjected to mind conditioning by Casey. As Casey mentioned his trigger word, Ethan instantly fell asleep despite several seconds before he just intensely cheered for a football team he's rooting for.

Casey then decided to execute his plan as he planted this idea to Ethan that he's been gay all along and he only can get hard while serving Casey. The ideas of girls repulsed him. The idea of disobeying Casey terrified him and his biggest joy in life is to do things in accordance to Casey's order. Casey then told Ethan to also set a "smokescreen" while in public or with other people as to not raise any suspicion and would only be his devoted self when Casey and him are in private or when Casey said his trigger word. As the jock snapped awake from his slumber, his eyes softened upon seeing Casey as he addressed him with respect and slight fear

"Oh Master, very sorry. Did I fall asleep here when you want to watch TV? Please, don't hesitate and sit down here, Sir. I'll scooch to the floor,"

"Calm down, Ethan. No need to do all that. I just wanna ask. Say, aside from me as the all powerful controller, who's the strongest guy in this school that you know?"

"Physically or socially, Sir?"

"Hmmmm...both,"

"The Dean and the Provo----"

"Not them, dummy. The students, I meant,"

"Ohhh the students. The twins in Pike are certainly the craziest in terms of physique, one of them got stabbed and then beaten the shit out of his stabber and 3 other guys----"

"Sounds like a threat,"

"---while socially, Ben Richards clearly bodied everyone. Part of the billionaire Richards retail & real estate family and his uncle is a high-ranked DoD officials, a decorated and highly respected war hero,"

"Not even the frat president, huh?"

"Nah, he's just Ben's pawn. Ben's too lazy to do anything by himself. He'll prefer someone worked it for him,"

"A pawn to do all his bidding, huh?"

"Yep, you got that right,"

"Well, what do you think if we paid a visit to meet Ben, do you know his whereabouts?"

"Not really, but I can ask around,"

"Then ask around. I would like to meet with him in private,"

Read Part 2 here

[tlouxx]

Electromagnetism

~ ellie williams x reader

——————————————————————————

part two <3

synopsis: you and ellie williams have been long time rivals. you are a physics majors at wellesley college, and you’re competing for the same spot in the prestigious dr. ramsey’s lab as ellie. suddenly neither of you can escape the other as you’re both trying to navigate your final year of college.

content: college!ellie, modern au, mean!ellie, academic rivals to lovers, slow burn, forced proximity, eventual smut, swearing, banter, just trying to intro ellie and reader rn

an: this is the first fic i've written! i hope you enjoy :) pls be kind

——————————————————————————

I want this year to be better. To achieve more. To get everything I have wanted. Well.. I want this to be the year I best Ellie Williams. It has been so frustrating to get second best to her no matter how hard I try. I study 15 hours for the exam. She studies for 20. I get a 98 on the lab report. She gets a 100. I can’t stand this girl. This year I have a fire under my ass. I’ll do whatever it takes to get the lab position with Dr. Ramsey, and I know Ellie is gunning for it too… 

...

Day One  - PHYS 302: Quantum Mechanics 

Fuck. I know I'm going to be late. I had been up until 2:00 a.m. devising a plan for how I was going to handle all of the stress of senior year. Between tutoring, a full class load, and working on my thesis, I am going to have no life outside of school. Although, I’m kind of fucking it up already by waking up late for the first day of class. 

…

I am sprinting through campus trying to navigate through the thick of the freshman class wandering aimlessly around. I have 1 minute and 39 seconds to make it on time before Dr. L locks the door. (She’s a bit famous for doing that). It’s mid august and hot. I can feel the sweat dripping down my back, and my bangs are clinging to my forehead. I see a shortcut to the physics building through the freshly landscaped garden. Dirt and mulch kicks up my jeans, but I don’t care. Behind me, I hear yelling. “Move out of my way!!” I look momentarily to see none other than Ellie Williams. Suddenly I don’t feel as bad about being late. She’s in her typical wardrobe of converse and a jacket too big for her, and she’s running toward me. 

…

“Don’t you know she’s going to lock the door on us!” 

“I know Ellie!” I scoff back. I book it knowing we only have 45 seconds left to make it on time. We’re both charging up the stairs. Ellie shoves me aside. I yell  “Are you kidding me!” She simply laughs at me. 

… 

I’m following right behind her. I can feel the anger flood through my body. My cheeks are flushed, and I can feel my rage nearly leave my mouth. I know I’d only be stooping to her level. I see the door in my line of sight and feel the tension dissipate knowing we made it. We rush through the door with seconds to spare. All eyes are on us. I suddenly feel the anger leave and be replaced by embarrassment. I look around for somewhere to sit. PHYS 302 is a popular class with a majority of the seats being full. Ellie and I look at each other realizing there are only two seats left. Right next to each other. 

…

We both glare at the other, but sit down knowing we’ve already caused a commotion by busting through the door at the last second. I’m angry. I’m irritated. This is exactly why I have to do better this semester. I know what I want, and I won’t stop until I see that smirk wiped off her face. 

…

As class continues on, I glance over at Ellie. She’s diligently taking notes and hanging on to every word Dr. L says. I should be doing the same. This class is important to me, and doing well can help me guarantee my spot in Dr. Ramsey’s lab. I’ve been dreaming of doing my thesis with her help since freshman year. Right now though, I need to stop daydreaming about beating Ellie and actually do it. 

…

I’ve always loved the atmosphere here at Wellesley. The campus is gorgeous and almost looks otherworldly at times. The blossoming pinks of the spring and the rich reds and yellows of the fall makes it look like a daydream. I have studied at nearly every picnic table out here. The sun is shining down on my face through the clouds.  I look up and start to reminisce about the good times I’ve had here, but the heat is getting to me. I peel off my jacket before I enter my next lecture. I open the door to see Ellie Williams smirking at me. 

…

PHYS 208: Intermediate Electromagnetism

“I didn’t think you’d be brave enough to take this class. Seems a little too… difficult for you.” 

“Fuck off Ellie. You know I’m just as smart as you.” 

“And I know how much it kills you that you have to work twice as hard to come close to me” 

I laugh. “What kills me is that you think that’s true. I already know you studied for days for Dr. Ramsey’s final when I studied for a couple hours and got practically the same grade” I can feel myself getting flustered. I’ve been wanting to dedicate this semester to kicking her ass, and she can see it. I watch as her cheeks turn red. She knows I see her too. She turns back around in her seat. 

…

The weight of the day feels heavy on my shoulders. I shouldn’t have said that to Ellie. Dina told me in confidence how much time she was dedicating to studying for the exam. I shouldn’t have betrayed her trust just to get back at Ellie. I don’t have much time to waste ruminating on actions. I have work in 20 minutes and a 15 minute walk there. 

…

I work at the tutoring center on campus. I mainly help the underclassmen with the major prerequisite courses like MATH 205 and PHYS 100/107/108. It gives me a sense of fulfillment helping others. I know firsthand how hard these classes are. I probably wouldn’t have survived the first year without the help of the tutoring department. It’s part of the reason why I decided to work here making minimum wage. Plus it’ll make my application to work at Dr. Ramsey’s lab look better. I glance through the windows to get a glimpse of who I'll be working with this semester. I hope Dina and I get the same shifts like last semester. I’m sure you can guess who I see though. Ellie. Fucking. Williams. 

…

I can feel my eyes rolling. I can’t escape her! Everywhere I turn she’s there. First both our classes are together and now she’s working at the tutoring center? This has to be some sick joke. I look up at her and smile. She looks away and sits in a nearby chair. I sit across from her waiting for someone to instruct us on what to do next. I do regret embarrassing her, but she started it. She nearly pushed me down the stairs just to get ahead of me on top of that too. Maybe I shouldn’t feel so bad, but my heart is still pounding as I look up at her again. 

…

The tutoring center supervisor sees us sitting in silence together. She’s nice enough, but her wardrobe is stuck in 2013. I catch myself staring at her oddly patterned top. Ellie notices me staring and gives me a knowing smile. 

“I’m so glad you’re both here! You and Ellie will be our main tutors on Monday, Wednesday, Friday for the core physics class. I think you two are already acquainted” 

“Oh. I thought Dina and I would be doing that again.” 

“Right. I thought you might say that, but with her new course load she’ll be doing Tuesday and Thursday instead.” 

“I see.” 

“You and Ellie are both top of the class! I feel so lucky to have you guys here.” 

I smile and head down to the physics portion of the building. 

…

Ellie is following behind me closely. I’m wondering if maybe she’ll apologize, but I doubt she’d ever do that. We both sit down at our respective desks. I look up at her again. I must’ve hit close to home with my comment. She’s helping someone with their MATH 205 homework. Ellie tucks a piece of her hair behind her ear. She always wears it half up/half down. Despite our rivalry, I admit to myself that it looks good on her. Her complexion is soft and a spread of freckles paints her nose. She gives them a thumbs up as they leave, and they yell to Ellie, “You’re a life-saver!” 

…

After a few hours of no students, I’m getting bored. I can sense the tension between me and Ellie. I think I should say something. 

“Hey Ellie, I think I should apologize for earlier.” 

“Honestly, it’s fine. I’m glad you finally are stepping up in this little game of ours. I needed a little extra motivation to step up my game so I can get the spot in Dr. Ramsey’s lab” 

“God, I knew you were gunning for it too.” 

Ellie gets out of her chair and steps closer to me. She creeps in closely. My heart skips a beat for a second. Fuck this girl will be the death of me. 

She is only inches from my face. My cheeks begin to flush. The anxiety is bubbling up in my chest. My heart is beating so loud I think Ellie might hear it too.

“May the best win” 

…

Oh its fucking on Ellie.

[osaemu]

hannah oh my god…. because of you posting that dazai canonically doesn’t bandage his tummy my mind is now going haywire with the headcanon that he has a sensitive tummy….

so imagine just pressing kisses on it as he lowkey panics because it tickles,, but also doesn’t want it to stop because he feels so loved… i need that man so badly, fuck 😔

ur so right bc dazai is DEFINITELY ticklish everywhere especially his tummy!! when u kiss him there for the first time he has the cutest reaction ever bc his face'll go all red and he actually gets so flustered cause he prolly isnt used to phys touch :( and it catches him sooo off guard but somehow he likes it??

imagine sneaking up behind him (which is probably impossible but humor me for a sec) and giving him a back hug while wrapping ur arms around his tummy!! dazai would actually go tomato red (im the number one advocate of blushing dazai can u tell) and stumble over his words... hes so cute i need him rn </3

[loiteringandlurking]

hs au javey where Davey (in a fit of frustration and sensory nightmares) takes off his shirt in the changing room during phys ed ... he usually goes into a stall but not today he just doesn't have the time, patience or willingness for it, plus it's empty right now ... cue jack stepping into the room right as davey's shirt comes off and immediately turning the other direction because oh my god is it disrespectful he's so fine fuck am I meant to look is it okay to look does he have abs????

and davey's like 'hey .... jack .....'

and jacks like 'IMSOSORRYWAITNOIDIDNYMEANIJUSTTHOUGHT' and Davey has to physically take a step back ....

and obviously crutchie and Katherine hear about it later but you knew that already

[the-cornuthaum]

holy shit i hate some of the new stages in IS4 a lot.

particularly No More Than Four.

Because you know what's great on a floor 1 map, which you can get at your literal first fight? enemies with 70% res. 70% res that basically forces you into taking a fucking phys dps primary because - again - this can literally be the first stage you get, and an e1 80 reed alter, whose s2 has approximately one shumillion dps normally, bounces off helplessly. Oh, and the shieldguards move at you in packs of 3 so you better fucking have either a 3 block (there's only one start with defenders) (oh and also they stack up together and gain a morbillion defence, rendering almost all phys burst units useless) or some really fucking heavy phys burst

i hate low-floor maps that force me into certain starter picks. I hated it in IS3 when the Dublinn floaters- WHY IS IT ALWAYS FUCKING DUBLINN, WHY IS IT ALWAYS THESE FUCKWAFFLES - also meant having to pick a starter with something ranged so you didn't hemorrhage light

TLDR chapter 9 was a mistake, I hate every single enemy they introduced in that fucking miserable slog, arknights would have been better off if it never existed and yes, I am pretty tilted right now, all of this is written with hate in my heart

[anti-terf-posts]

Srry this might get into rant territory but I've been going through the blogs of terfs who comment on your posts to compile a blocklist and it's honestly crazy to me how unwilling some people are to understand the fact that the trans community is. yk. a community of people? Like I see so many ppl on radblr talking like transfemmes are these evil masterminds forcing the poor little uwu transmascs to do their bidding because they see trans men speaking out about transmisogyny. Which, (Aside from the obvious sexism of thinking afab people are helpless little goo-goo brained victims who can't think for themselves and amab people are all genius evil dictators do we not see the hypocrisy here guys.) as both a punk who is outspoken about shit that matters to me and as a trans guy pisses me tf off. Is it so crazy to think that trans people are human beings who can care about each other? Like so many people genuinely don't seem to understand that we're just normal people. They talk like we're sitting here plotting to take over the world or something but like. I went to high school with other trans people. I ran laps in the sun with a trans girl while the burly phys ed teacher yelled at us to keep up I caught the bus with enbies I sat on the grimy public school floors while I helped a trans boy tune his violin. My transfem friends and I usually just talk about video games. I talk to other trans people all the time about the most boring shit imaginable. I don't need an ulterior motive to look out for my trans siblings its just common decency because we're normal fucking people who are just trying to live our lives. What about that is so incomprehensible? It's just so apparent when I see trans positivity posts on blogs like this and the notes r full of terfs making it out to be part of some elaborate scheme instead of. You know. Good old fashioned human compassion?? Good lord. Anyway man keep doin ur thing and take care of your mental health running this blog has gotta be exhausting. peace and love on planet earth

yeah as a trans guy, I stick up for trans girls not because they force me to, but because I know it's the right thing to do? I'm not quite sure what terfs are missing here.

anyways, this was well written out, kind of reminded me of a poem ❤️

[shuttershocky]

Hey shutters, is it alright If I could ask for a guide on WB9? I ain't got a clue on how to deal with two ya's at the same time

No problem!

So the thing about Ya is that while other bosses attempt to beat you with overwhelming offensive power, incredibly tough defenses, or by messing with the event mechanics, Ya has none of those options and instead simply tries to trick you with illusions, making them an incredibly easy boss once you figure out what they do (and have appropriate medics, they still deal arts damage after all)

Once the stage begins and you're printing DP with a vanguard, place a sniper anywhere on the red square to deal with the first wave of upper lane trash. Just marksmen will do, as the enemies in this stage all have pretty low DEF.

Do NOT let the enemy get far onto the high ground, some of the early enemies are Relayers who place Cipher Machines on every tile of high ground they can get on, boosting the movement speed and ASPD of all enemies on the field. If you let them plant all over your high ground, the enemies will get far too strong as Cipher Machines stack.

Next, you'll want a tank (i suggest a Guardian Defender, as Ya uses arts damage, but anyone with decent self sustain will do) on the bottom green circle to block Ya. This starts Ya's first trick, creating a floating illusion as soon as they're blocked, and then teleporting to that illusion if it's not destroyed which lets them "jump" over your operators. However, you are prepared for this, because on the red arrows are your Lord Guards like Arene and Lappland (you can also use Casters) ready to shoot down Ya's illusion. Without the illusion, Ya will remain blocked by your tank in the green circle, which isn't good news for Ya as they only do 600 (800 in the EX modes) Arts damage, which any decent Guardian can ignore. Take note that the biggest threat in bottom lane isn't actually Ya, it's the Desperados, as they're quite tanky and will need arts damage (or high phys) to properly take care of. Good thing arts or high phys is common with Lords!

The Lords will continue to pelt Ya with damage, and your snipers in the red circle should have no issue dealing with the trash, meaning it's time to set up for phase 2.

On any of the yellow arrows, you set up an ambush of burst damage (you can also move them back a bit if your operators are a bit more on the squishy side). Heavyshooters, Spreadshooters, Silverash, or Mlynar will do great, but even a buffed Marksman will delete Ya quickly as their DEF is only a measly 450. Remember to support them with a medic on the green squares.

Now once the Lords in the bottom lane kill Ya once, Ya's going to realize they came to the wrong neighborhood and will create a new, stronger illusion on the upper red gate, before swapping places with the illusion (meaning the real Ya goes to the upper red gate, while the illusion goes to the bottom one.) Ya is also going to realize that getting blocked is stupid, because they could fly all this time, and so both them and the illusion start flying.

This is when you make Ya see they fucked up, because you have a squad of burst damage boss-killers waiting right on the spot they fled to. Activate all skills and make Ya explode. Once Ya reaches low HP and see that this situation is even worse, they swap places with the illusion again, and move back to the bottom lane.

Now if you want the medal, you must retreat your ambush operators here, as the medal requires killing Ya without killing her special illusion (their Delusion). If you've already got it however, you can keep attacking the illusion, as killing it deals 35% of Ya's HP as damage to them. You can tell which is the illusion by looking at Ya's sword. Glowing gold means it's NOT the real one, the real Ya's sword is black.

If your Lords in the bottom lane are strong enough (or if one of them is just Thorns who can omegalul solo kill everything in the bottom stage with just one tank helping), they should be more than enough to finish off the weakened Ya. If not, just add more support.

Congratulations, the boss fight is finished! now you just have to kill the rest of the stage. Take note that Ya has a special skill where whatever tile they pass through, now gets the ability to spawn additional enemies every 30 seconds. Don't worry about it, the spawned enemies are all trash mobs any sniper can kill.

Now, what if you don't have the DPS numbers to finish Ya off before they get too far into the bottom lane? Their strategy will then be attempting to kill you by pincering you between both themselves and their illusion, making you take double damage.

Worry not. Place a Guardian Defender on any of the middle green circles. In Phase 2, Ya gets a really long attack range, which means placing a Guardian in those tiles will actually draw attacks from both themselves and their illusion, and Ya's ATK stat is so tame at 600 that even when they double up they'll have a hard time killing even Gummy.

Good luck!

[physalian]

I’m sure it’s applicable to so many other fields so here I am (probably over-sharing) trying to raise awareness to burnout and the need for mental health breaks:

Almost a month ago, things weren’t bad, they were going well. I was racing to get my first book up for preorder, knowing that doing so wouldn’t necessarily get me sales, but it did give me time to do a little marketing with the proof copy and leave room to fix the last few things that popped up while I waited.

I was too exhausted from that sprint to even properly enjoy the monumental milestone of getting that preorder submitted on time. I just wanted to go to bed with like, zero human support systems to help me out because everyone I know is too depressed to help themselves. Depression might not literally be contagious but as the only one I know who has their shit together, when I *don’t* have my shit together, I get zero help. I still gotta help everybody else. Like, if the dishes don’t get done, it’s far easier to stack mine on top and say fuck it than ask for/wait for/do dishes that aren’t mine so I have room for mine, you know?

Not even 20 days later and it has just been one gut-punch after another. And the thing is. I’m… pessimistically inclined. Sometimes. Not because I want to be, mind you, but because life + repeat letdowns and disappointments + failures by people close to me to follow through on commitments = a cocktail of hyper-independence, trust issues, and seeing the worst in people.

Day after pre-order go-live and I got family pushing *hard* to get me on social media to market cause that’s where my audience is, allegedly (I write gay fantasy books. My audience is right here thank you very much). But I listened. And it went exactly as I expected it to. And the burnout and cynicism has done a real number on my mental health.

Oh, you got excited naively thinking an influencer actually cares about and wants to read your book? Ha ha, you shmuck. Nope! She just wants your money.

Oh, well at least she delivered a usable ad for your book, right? Nope! That Instagram account is now dead to me, infected with scammers who won’t leave me alone.

Oh, well how’s your new TikTok going? It’s going, right? Kinda! I mean the platform is rigged against you, demanding a style of performance that I hate to catch the attention of people who like shiny clickbait. And no, there’s a very real bubble preventing your videos from reaching larger audiences because the algorithm says so. And no matter how many hours you put into making videos, you *might* get 700 views. Not engagement, just views. Counting those scrolling by.

Oh…. Well you got some sales at least, right? Nope~ but hey I get it ebooks aren’t thrilling. Lacking sales are the least important element here.

You got some friends and family to read it though? One. No one I know reads, or if they do, they don’t have time to remember their promise.

But there are *some* good things that came from interacting with social media right? No? Not really? The few positive interactions I’ve had I can get anywhere.

Oh and I am still tangled up with PayPal from that first scam.

Not to even get started on stress from my day job’s compulsory OT that means no weekends, an upcoming move, a denied ESA request, and a pending new job.

Point of all this being… this was supposed to be a time to celebrate an accomplishment. And all I have taken away from it was 1) I was right, social media is ass, and 2) I was naive to get excited about absolutely any of this. Which is not a good thing to take away from this. Dangerous state of mind to be in.

When you’re pessimistic to keep your emotions safe from bad actors, and those bad actors all show up at once to validate your pessimism, it sucks. A lot. And it hasn’t even been 20 days. It feels like it’s been 3 months.

Phys wants a very long nap and some justice and a little bit of vindication and the permission to say “I told you so” with cathartic contempt. At the moment she’ll take venting to strangers on the internet.

[nani-nonny]

-Mention of drinking (and love-drunk babble from nonny)-

TLDR: I love you guys a lot, platonically

I got off work early to visit my papá, and I get there to a shot awaiting me in my lola’s hand, urging me to take shots with my papá because it’s so father-child bonding to take shots with parents (basically tradition)

Anyways, I’m ten shots deep (because I’m drinking for my alcohol-free siblings) and downing my second tamarind whiskey mixed drink and I’m feeling the love <333

I love it when people tell me they like my writing, it’s makes me all ooey gooey inside and I don’t know how to respond in words

I like when people review my writing (I’m looking mainly at you sniper *besito*)

I like when people don’t say anything but give a like or kudos to my fics (I memorized the returning readers and I always recognize you, but I won’t out you in case it makes you uncomfortable. But I see you and love you)

I like when people ask questions

I like when people like my peepaws. I’ve thought about making a role playing blog specifically for my peepaws, wouldn’t that be fun? So we can see it in its own space instead of BYMH?

I like when people draw me stuff inspired by my peepaws, even stupid doodles that FM Radio draws (I love you my dear friend mwah)

I like when I see the same people in my notifications interacting with my stupid snippets or even things I reblog (drifting mwah you’re more than this category but I’m drunk and lazy I think)

I like when people interact with my mundane posts and not related to my fics. You don’t have to do tjat, I’m voicing my inner thoughts to no one, but it makes me feel seen in a way that matters and doesn’t make me feel too perceived

I like writing peepaws

I like others peoples peepaws

I like the turtles not peepaws too

I fucking hate tcest bitches get away don’t perceive my peepaws

I like my drink it has a little sweet and spicy kick

I like my dad when he’s not acting like a toddler /aff lol

I like turtles

My little Jenny thinks it’s snack time whenever I’m snacking haha she’s cute

The kids I work with want to see Jenny but Jenny gets overwhelmed in that kind of scenario so I can’t bring her

I want to play games with my online friends :( I like phy and drifting and sniper and dragon and radio and haha it’s like I’m naming random objects in my room hehe

I shouldn’t have my phone in my hand but I’m responsible enough not to do stupid things

I like autocorrect because it makes me spell right haha

[houseofbreadpakoda]

hi brakoda lady

LIFE UPDATES

janta demands🔪

*claps* let's get into this

*Tosses bread pakoda onto plate* *pops open sprite bottle*

12th has been going on like a nightmare academically. Mainly because chemistry feels like a different language each time I try reading it. Secondly because....... I'm not studying. I procastinate until the day before the test. And then mess it up big time. And get screwed. Like I have tests every Monday. So i write a horrible test on Monday, convince myself i NEED to study for the next test and then procastinate until Sunday. It's horrible. And I have only me to blame. Speaking of which, I have a physics test coming up in 3 days. And my prep is at 0%. But i can still pull it off if I start today. But.........will i?

My life right now is just surrounded by everything related to academics, and I'm just there in the middle of it, convincing myself 'come on, grades don't matter.... right?"

No but discipline does. And this bitch doesn't have even an ounce of it. I really have nothing else to speak about honestly. I'm going through this emotional month rn, where i tear up by the smallest inconveniences or thoughts or advices. And where i am academically is only making it harder. So hopefully. I can start studying. Properly. And get those grades.

You know what. Now that I'm typing this anyways, I'll set myself a target. I need to get 30/35 on my phy test. If the paper is horrible then I'll let it slip till 27/35. Which is not great but is wayyyy better than last time.

Also realised this was an ask and not a diary entry, but we've gotten it out anyways so yea. Thank you so much for the ask. It felt necessary to tell someone about how much I'm fucking up my own life instead of muttering it to myself everyday. Makes me feel more accountable now, hopefully it'll lead somewhere good.

[smol-nevi]

You know...I took the entire last raid tier off from FFXIV. I was so burnt out. I couldn't even look at it. I got to such a peak with what I was doing on an individual level that I've got an orange aDPS parse in P5S (that's the one that's just your damage and your own buffs, mostly good for tracking rotation improvements). For the more common rDPS metric I had straight purples. That was without any parse runs and a not-hardcore group. I literally could not get a better parse under those circumstances and I kept beating my head on trying anyway until I wasn't even tolerable to be around.

I'm actually excited about Dawntrail? I'm cleaning out my inventory a bit (major feat, I've been playing since ARR and I have five retainers). I did something like three runs of Delubrum Reginae last night with my partner because they want to finish a relic and I just love Bozja that much.

I'm so tempted to spend some time in Eureka farming bunny boxes alone while everyone else is leveling and doing Dawntrail...

It feels nice to be able to be back. I'm not sure if I want to raid yet or not, but I'll play it by ear (aka if someone I know needs a dancer/ranged phys, I'm in, lol). Whatever the case though at least I know I proved whatever I thought I needed to with my numbers, and I'm a lot better at spotting burnout in myself and others now.

See, the difference between burnout and no burnout is that I couldn't even remember what I used to do for fun outside raiding, and it didn't sound fun if I did remember. Then I quit, slept for a while, eventually got my shit back together, and suddenly horked up an entire novel—of fanfic, but that counts—within 4 months, and then another in another 4 months. (Tellingly, both of them plus the third one I'm working on are about a lot of things, but they're all heavily about the devastating mental effects of burnout.) Now I'm like, do I even want to raid, if I could be doing all this other cool stuff? And yeah, kind of. My FC and our friends had a huge photoshoot to say goodbye to Endwalker and it reminded me of what's good about raiding: shooting the shit, laughing when things explode, being social around people on a schedule. I got way too focused on the math and not the people.

Slightly in my defense, it is hard to keep your head up when you run the same content for that many months. We cleared P4S week 31 and P8S week 34, if I'm remembering right. But also, absolutely not in my defense, until I intentionally took a short break during the P8S slog I had missed one single raid day since the second tier of Eden, and that was only because I'd had top surgery the literal day before and couldn't hold the controller yet for long enough without it seriously hurting. By the next raid night I was already back in it. I've never had perfect attendance in anything so that was a very hard record to let go of. What I needed was to let it the fuck go about six months before I actually did.

Anyway I'm literally just rambling because that's what I do, but I'm excited to be back. I think I'll level pictomancer because yeah, everyone is, but that's fun too. Bandwagons can be good or people wouldn't get on them. Dancer has been my main since Shadowbringers dropped and one of my favorite memories is still spending hours rolling over the Gyr Abanian maps with a bunch of half-dancer, half-gunbreaker fate trains like a steamroller covered in blenders and bayonets, laughing with strangers. I'm hoping pictomancer and viper will be that way too. It was good shit and I'm looking forward to it. I'll have a slightly late start because I've got a friend visiting through Friday, but that's fine. The point is friends anyway, and I need to remember that this time.

[satansfavoritedyke]

I'm fucking screaming and crying and pissing myself laughing over the term "mental-exclusionary radical disabled" or whatever the fuck absolutely ridiculous phrase it is y'all have coined because you're mad that physically disabled people won't allow you to bastardize our terms and community to further contribute to the edging out and marginalization of phys disabled people even within our own spaces.

How fucking DARE you even tangentially compare us to t/rfs, how actually fucking dare you suggest that being "radically disabled" is akin to literally holding fascist ideology.

For the sake of my own sanity and quite frankly because the majority of you fucking dumbasses refuse to have any kind of reading comprehension, I won't explain to you WHY cripplepunk is a movement and a community EXCLUSIVELY for physically disabled people, because there's enough of those posts for you to ignore and/or misinterpret already. What I will say however is that if you believe an able-bodied person can "reclaim" or identify as a cripple or should be part of cripplepunk for literally any reason, kindly catapult yourself into the sun before even approaching me.

Also you should probably block this individual who is stirring the fucking pot right now and as someone else in the actual cripplepunk community has already said, punks have forcibly removed people who have no business in our communities for all of time so ""gatekeeping"" is not a new feature of ANY community and definitely not in punk culture. Good fucking bye.