#i will still have the same exact problems as i do with every other store... except on poshmark i can't return the clothes

[oh-katsuki]

im going to be so fr.... i hate it when im shopping for something, perusing online or in person for stuff in my size and approximate measurements... and a skinny woman says to me “you should try poshmark instead” 🥺. u should look on there for stuff because it’s second hand 🥺 u should go to good will and thrift stores bc it’s more ethical 🥺 like i really wish u would be quiet bc u know damn well poshmark doesn’t do returns and that goodwill rarely carries good shit in my size. like ma’am, i’m fat and that transforms the ENTIRE way i shop for clothes compared to you. clothes are made for bodies like yours.... i’m expected to make do. 

[delopsia]

Thinking about all the things Rhett had to deal with while growing up on the Abbott ranch and how his world tips on its head when you come into his life.

He's forever conscious of how Perry was born out of love, and he was born because Royal realized that it would be cheaper to have his kids working than it was to hire help. Poor Cecelia was so blindsided by her baby fever that she didn't realize why Royal went back on his "I only want one kid" statement until after Royal hauled five-year-old Rhett out to work on the ranch for the third day in a row. An entire two years younger than Perry had been when he started working.

And the problem with Royal, is that arguing with him only makes him dig his heels into the dirt, refusing to sway on his decision.

Most of the kids in his school worked and had their responsibilities to help keep the household running, but Rhett was the only one who had to do his homework on the bus because otherwise, he wouldn't have time to do it until he went to bed. Just like he was the only kid to miss every single field trip, because why should he go to the zoo with his class when he could be working with Royal?

He doesn't understand why his dad snaps at him for crying over his injuries but soon comes a time when he doesn't care about the bruises littering his arms. Gets annoyed when Perry cries about crushing his hand. Nothing's broken; there's no reason to get worked up over it.

That exact thinking keeps him quiet the first time he gets hurt bullriding. So focused on chasing the same small-town glory as his father that he doesn't mind the sprained ankle. Getting on again and again because, for a few fleeting seconds, the crowd cheers his name, and the sound of their applause is the thing he's grown to crave.

There was some point when the workload in the house started shifting. When Perry was starting to reach the end of his high school days, started to fight a little harder against Royal's iron fist. And with an explosive temper that nearly dulls Royal's, it only made sense that he started getting his way. Enjoying days off, weekends spent touring colleges, and venturing out into the real world, because of how his explosive demeanor always devolved into threats that shook his momma to her core.

But one less pair of hands on the ranch meant that the others had to take on more work, and with Royal's old bull riding injuries coming back to bite him, Rhett was the only one capable of taking it on. But just because you can doesn't mean you should.

Hiring just one ranch hand would have made all the difference, but the prospect of losing money is something Royal's always disagreed with. Slowly, Rhett's work days grow longer. Dinner time no longer makes the end of his work, having to go back out to finish up while everyone else showers and settles in for the night. Waking up before school to get a head start on chores, hoping he'll be done early tonight.

It never happens. Where he finds free time, Royal finds things he could be doing, and Rhett starts learning that lying about needing to do store runs is the only way he'll get a break.

The way Royal refused to let him and Perry have cellphones until they turned eighteen and could buy them with their own money. The result of a privilege revoked after a thirteen-year-old Perry got caught on his phone at two in the morning ended with a smashed phone and a brutal reminder of where the eldest son gets his anger from.

A rule that was forced to be overturned when Rhett was sixteen. All because something in the west pasture spooked his horse; she'd run him clean over in her attempt to get away from it, and he never saw her coming. He still doesn't remember hitting the ground, but he does recall the splitting ache in his skull when his eyes finally reopened.

With no cell phone, he had no way to call for help, forced to limp home on foot. He didn't get home until after dusk because Royal had written his absence off as teenage rebellion. A hospital visit later, Cecelia went behind her husband's back to buy new phones for both of her boys, but even the justification of keeping her boys safe wasn't enough for Royal. Because Rhett had made it home and was fine at the end of the day.

Then Rhett's eighteen, and he's just barely maintained his grades to graduate. He's got it in his head that he's going to move out, get out of this stuffy old town, and pave his own way, doing something, anything. But now Perry and Rebecca are moving into the house with their daughter, and Rhett's being asked to put off his plans until they get settled in.

He's nineteen when he gives up on trying to leave because something always needs him to stay home a little longer. He's twenty when he figures out why Royal drinks so much beer, gets hooked on the way the bitter liquid makes the ache in his shoulders disappear, and for the first time in a while, he's happy. Because you can't remember your sorrows when you're drunk.

Rhett's twenty-one when he can start wandering into bars, and he's twenty-one when he learns that there's a group of girls who come to rodeos, hoping to catch a steamy night with a bull rider, no strings attached. It's strange to kiss a girl you don't know the name of, waking up alone in a hotel bed with hardly any memory of what happened the night before. But for a few splitting seconds, he doesn't feel so alone in this big world, and he's clinging to it with every fiber of his being.

Until that's not enough, either. The scream of the crowd, the electric touch of those pretty girls that cheer his name, no longer make his days easier. Beer quits chasing away the pain in his joints, the prescription painkiller for an old injury in his wrist had might as well be candy, and he can only escape it by blacking out. He doesn't remember getting that DUI, but Officer Joy tells him that he was muttering about how Royal wanted him to chase down a cow that broke through the fence. He's in such rough shape that she intentionally forgets to discharge him, hoping the day of rest will do something to get rid of the bags under his eyes.

She isn't quite sure what to think when she learns that he's practically been running the Abbott ranch for the past few years. Royal always fails to mention his youngest son when he brags about his ranch.

Then you come along.

A fresh new face, one of the only people to move into Wabang rather than out of it because your new job led you all the way out here. It was Sherrif Joy who suggested you visit the Amelia County rodeo once or twice, and you'd only gone because there was nothing else to do. Rhett didn't notice you until Joy came to congratulate him on his ride, with you glued to her side. He hasn't stumbled through a hello in years, but he can hardly get it out of his mouth.

Your face sticks in his head while he works, and God, he doesn't even know your name, but his heart is jumping in his chest when you run into him at the store, time and time again. Until he finally cracks and starts a conversation with you while waiting in line, and somehow that ends in the two of you standing in the parking lot, talking until the store closes. An invitation to get drinks turns into dinner dates, and he's got something to look forward to again.

All of a sudden, you're massaging his overworked hands and cradling his scruffy face like he's made of glass. Whispering about how he needs rest and deserves all the love you shower him with, and he's not sure what to make of that. Can never figure out why his eyes water that first time he lays his head on your chest, listening to the pitter-patter of your heart while you play with his hair.

His momma is the only one whose ever done that; she stopped when he was fourteen.

He doesn't know how to tell you that he loves you. Those words choke in his throat every time he tries to utter them, stifling him into a painful silence that he can't escape. Instead, he does the only thing he knows how to do.

He works.

Replaces the busted locks in your doors, changes the oil in your car, he builds the porch you say you wanted, and he tinkers away at the little household annoyances. You want a fence? He's got it; he just needs to get up earlier to have time to build it. You're telling him that he doesn't have to do all these things for you, but work is the only thing he knows how to do. If he stops, then what else can he give you?

He doesn't understand what you see in him; he's not as energetic and fun as those other rodeo guys who eye you up every time they see you. They have more money, they're stronger, don't have the aches and pains of an old man, and they haven't got the reputation of being the town casanova.

He doesn't understand how you look at him like he's something precious—some priceless thing that deserves the world and more. There will come a day when you realize you deserve better, more than he could ever hope to give you, and he knows it'll break him, but he lets you love on him anyway. Because a few months spent with you is the best thing he could ever ask for, even if you walk away in the end.

But you're not walking away. Fuck, he's probably given you more opportunities than the Lord can count, but for some reason, you stay. And you're spending your first Christmas together, he's buying you too many sweets for Valentine's Day and he's spoiling you on your birthday, only to get confused when you surprise him with cake on his own birthday. Can't remember the last time he blew out candles, only realizes he was supposed to make a wish three days later.

Selfishly, he wishes that you'll be with him forever.

You're taking him to the zoo for one of your dates, and for the first time in his life, he's looking back at a tiger, and it's so, so different from the pictures. There are otters, bears, cheetahs, and wait, wait! Why are there goats in a zoo? Hasn't everyone met a goat before? What's so special about these ones? And how the fuck are giraffes so tall?

Royal says the red-panda plush Rhett hauls home is a waste of money. He could have saved that money to invest in land or a future, but all Rhett can think of is how, when he squeezes it to his chest at night, he can almost deceive himself into thinking it's you instead.

But then comes that big argument; he forgets what its about midway through, because he's realized that this is it. This is when you realize that he can't give you what you deserve. He can't blame you, but that still doesn't stop him from breaking when you walk out to your car.

He doesn't know what the hell to think when he realizes you're in the room with him. Couldn't hear the squeal of the door over the choked noises coming from his own mouth, eyes so clouded with tears that he can't even see you. But he can feel your arms around him, and he doesn't want to hug you out of fear of this being a dream. Yet you're still there, and you're not promising you're never leaving him, and he doesn't understand. He doesn't understand. And it scares him so bad that he shakes with it.

You don't know if you'll ever be able to let go of him because he clings to you with this fear that you've never seen before. Words aren't enough to convince his broken heart that you're not going anywhere, and for the first time since you met him, he talks. Spills every fear and thought he's ever had through his hiccups, confirms your suspicions of how much he hurts, and unveils the sources of his insecurities.

Your big cowboy falls asleep with his face buried in your neck, and he's still there when you wake up. It's the third time he's stayed in bed and didn't go to work, but it's the first time he's chosen to stay. Usually, it's a physical injury that forces him to stay down, but this is an injury you can't see. A fracture in who he is, broken after a lifetime of increasing pressure that he never stood a chance against.

He follows you into the kitchen, no longer trying to conceal the limp in his left foot as he tries his best to help you cook breakfast. You don't know where his appetite came from, but you've never seen him meekly ask if he can make himself more fried eggs.

It's only after that he remembers the argument about how you got a job offer that would take you a few states away. Out of Wyoming and away from him. But it's your dream job, and it hurts to see Rhett's bottom lip wobble as he weakly tells you to go for it. Dreams come first, after all.

Like many things, he doesn't know what to think when you tell him your dream has changed. You want him to come with you. Leave this flyover town, find a job that doesn't ask the world of him, and share a cute little house with you somewhere in the countryside. He doesn't get why you'd want it with him, but fuck if that isn't the one thing he's always wanted.

Royal thinks that Rhett's lighter attitude is because of his recent decision to move in with you. Cecelia already knows what Rhett's up to without needing to be told.

It takes a year for you to move. Just after you lock your front door for the last time, Cecelia's car appears in the driveway. Neither of you can figure out how she knew you two were moving out today, but she's brought a box of things that her youngest deserves to have. Pictures, his first belt buckle, that first cellphone that got drowned in the kitchen sink, and a freshly knitted blanket. A housewarming gift. She says it's good luck for a couple to have one and to not hesitate to call if you need anything.

That blanket sits on the back of the couch in your new living room. Rhett only curls up with it when he's feeling homesick, which had might as well be the entirety of the first six months in this new house. He finds a job at a local ranch, is lucky enough to have his beloved horse shipped out to stay there, and slowly, his true colors start to bleed through.

Or maybe they were always there, simply dulled by the exhaustion that once seemed to permanently sit in his weary bones.

Because his smile reaches his eyes more often, and his prescription painkillers have long since expired. His body a touch softer, the result of a rediscovered appetite, and he reaches for you more than he does a can of beer. Gripings about his father are replaced by laughter that echoes down the hall. He's still got that limp, but he chases you up the stairs quicker than he used to. Those gaudy belt buckles never leave, and never do you. Always there when he comes home from work, ready to meet him for his favorite welcome-home kiss.

Rhett will never be the son Royal asked for, but he will always be the man you've dreamed of.

And he's more than enough.

[misc-obeyme]

YEAHHH JOIN THE SOLOMAMS TRAIN !! I am here to ramble, they make me crazy. I'm brainrotting so hard about coffee shop AU. Vibrating with ideas.

I never thought about Mammon owning the cafe, but hell that would be so cool!! Okay, okay, here's my thoughts. Mammon owns the cafe and works there, and also has an apartment directly above it (trying to decide WHY he owns it, maybe took over from Lucifer?? Bought the cheap building impulsively bc apartment, deciding it was a problem for future him to decide what he'd make out of the lower space).

People go mostly for him because the vibes are immaculate, everyone always leaves in a better mood. The college campus down the block has a rumor that if you buy a coffee, leave a good tip (specifically dollar coins or two dollar bills), and have an exam the next day, you'll always get a passing grade no matter what. Mammon works overtime during midterms and finals, business is booming.

Solomon is a college student (need to decide on a major) and comes at the exact same time every weekday morning, buying a danish (sometimes strawberry, sometimes ham and cheese) and a coffee before class, except on Wednesdays because he doesn't have classes. Mammon knows his order by heart after a month, but pretends to ask him what he wants while literally typing it into the kiosk. Mammon will squint at him, somehow knowing which danish he'll choose that day before Solomon utters a word. "Ahaha, why do you ask when you already have a danish boxed up?" "Who says that's for you, eh? I don't know everyone's order around here." "Not everyone. You're right. Just mine :]" "O-OI, SHUT UP BEFORE I CHARGE YA EXTRA!"

If I'm including my mc, I'm definitely working at a record shop a block down the street (my dream job)!! Records, CD's, small music sheet collection, buying services (trading and hunting down records is available for repeat customers, AHEM, Lucifer and Solomon.) Took over from the old owner because I visited so much as a teen, was hired as soon as I was old enough, and took over at say 22 ish.

HEAR ME OUT, Solomon who still uses a walkman. I think it'd be nice. He visits the store occasionally after class to browse, getting lost in the CD's. I'm imagining him having a massive collection, and having some rare items. He once showed up with a copy of something I had only ever dreamed of owning (once saw it secondhand for $800, he also had other stuff with him), and I almost jumped across the counter when he said he was looking to sell or trade for credit. "You look like you're simultaneously about to faint or attack me." "I can't decide which to do."

Lucifer loves collecting records, so he visits a lot, and uses it as an excuse to check up on Mammon (won't admit it). There's a collection of records kept up front that are deemed 'cursed' because they always skip the first track (Lucifer will buy one every month). Lucifer became a regular after I accidentally came across a rare first press edition of a record online and presented it to him because he mentioned it was a dream to own. He brought me a coffee and a croissant from his brother's coffee shop the next day to show his gratitude, mentioning it wasn't too far either.

Suddenly I'm visiting the cafe the next day, waking up early to have time before opening up shop. Almost die trying to order, because Lucifer did not mention his brother was hot. Successfully get my hands on another croissant, and a sandwich that was recommended. I don't visit every day, but when I do, it's always at the same time. Mammon grumbled something about trying to have my order ready before I got there, only for me to not show up some days. "N-Not that it means anything! I'm just tryin' to be more efficient!" "Well, I'm sorry I don't always wake up early! Getting out of bed is hard. If I had your number, I'd text you saying I was on my way, y'know?" "Y-YOU'RE ASKING FOR MY NUMBER?" "WAIT WHAT, N-NO, I MEAN- well.. actually, that wouldn't be... so bad? F-FORGET I SAID ANYTHING IF THAT'S WEIRD, UM, UH, SORRY, CAN I PAY NOW?" "... It's on the house. And uh, look inside the cup sleeve whenever you leave."

HELP I NEVER MEAN FOR MY ASKS TO GET THIS LONG, I JUST CAN'T STOP RAMBLING. The fact this isn't even everything, this is just the backstory. The lore, if you will. There is a plot !! Everything is connected.

- ✨ anon

✨ anon, tell me you're writing this story. This sounds exactly like what I do when I'm brainstorming a story before I write it.

And it's so good!!! I love every part of this!! I mean, okay, you don't have to write it if you don't want to obviously lol but I think it'd turn out really good if you did!!

I mean, you have fully converted me to the solomams train now, I'm so invested!!

I love Lucifer's role in all this and I LOVE that you work at the record shop down the street!!

Definitely living for the poly vibes, I wanna see what happens when you and Solomon show up at the same time. Poor Mammon might just have a whole heart attack about it!

Anyway, I love this. Please feel free to tell me more. I love coffee shop AUs so so much.

[shitpostdevil]

Your intimidating manager secretly has a thing for you~

Suguru x F!reader

Warning: 18+, jealousy, coworker interest~

I do not own any of the characters or the art I find to include (unless if I explicitly state otherwise)

These are solely MY headcanons, if you don't like them, it's okay, you don't have to read, just mind your business, m'kay?

If you happen to know that the art is yours and want credit, or for it to be removed, please, say something. I will fully respect your wishes.

He was the one to interview you for the job. It absolutely enthralled you that he asked "what's wrong with you to make you want to work here?" as one of the interview questions. (You had to bite your tongue not to say, 'what isn't wrong with me?')

Every other day that you two work together, as soon as he's clocked in, he ignores everyone else and is immediately talking to you about another anime/manga he found (which you immediately start consuming as soon as you have the chance to because they're all good)

You've grown to look forward to shifts with him, always feeling like something is missing if he's not there (he would never outright admit it, but he feels the same exact way)

Working after close has become your favorite part of the job when it's with him, getting the stock ready for the next day while he speaks about his latest interest as you quietly listen (buzzing because he's telling you about his life, but keeps it on lock for anyone else- he's not even sure when it started to happen or why, he doesn't talk about anything personal, especially not at work)

One day while putting out stock for the next morning, Suguru was opening the next morning and knew that he would be putting the stuff out, so he made a fort out of the boxes and dubbed it "'Fort Suguru'!" with the brightest smile (it's the first time you remember your heart racing because of him- it was the only time you had ever seen him smile like that and you thought it was beyond precious)

After the store is locked up, your current boyfriend would always take forever to show up to bring you home, but Suguru would wait with you every time without fail- even when the minutes turned into an hour more than once (and he would always stare daggers at your boyfriend- he would always ask on the way home, "Why does he always have to sit and wait with you?", to which you respond, "I think it's policy or something about safety."; you could never actually say that if he wasn't late every time then Suguru wouldn't have to wait with you because you secretly didn't want the alone time to stop)

After months of watching your boyfriend treat you like actual garbage, he breaks up with you while you're at work and takes the car you shared, abandoning you even after your shift is over; you're sick to your stomach in the bathroom for hours, sobbing (every time Suguru comes back to check on you his hand hovers at the door for way too long. Hearing your choked on sobs over such a horrible man hurts him somewhere he didn't believe could be hurt again- he had locked that door a long time ago, why does this hurt? He never ends up knocking, choosing to give you space- he wouldn't even know what to say anyways...)

When you still don't get the car back, Suguru begs the closing worker not to say anything to any of the other managers after he makes the decision to drive you home after they lock the store- (it could get both of you in trouble, but he isn't sure what else to do)

The only problem with the previous is that it seems like the moment you get into his car, you pass out from what he can only assume is exhaustion- which means that he doesn't have the slightest clue where to drive you (Is it really so bad that he drives you to his place? He has a spare room...)

He doesn't have the heart to wake you so he chooses the stupidly selfish option- putting both of your jobs on the line in the process (can you really blame him after listening to you sob all day?)

He tries to miss all of the potholes on the way home- petrified to his core that you'll wake up- (What if you freak out? What if you think he's planning on taking advantage of you? He would absolutely perish if you thought badly of him)

When you both get to his place unharmed he tries to be as gentle as possible, taking you from his front seat bridal style, carrying you up the flight of stairs to his apartment (hoping none of his neighbors get the wrong idea by carrying an unconscious girl back to his place after always strictly staying alone)

He struggles to open the door with you in his arms, which makes you mumble something incoherent, but not wake up- he rushes into the door and straight to his spare room, moving the sheets the best he can to lay you down; he tucks you in carefully and lets his eyes linger on your sleeping state for a little too long, then leaving you to get much needed rest (he lets out a 'Tsk' at his slight annoyance that it took you two this long to break up, and even bigger annoyance that it was you that ended up being more hurt by it- but he couldn't fully blame you for having too big of a heart, even if it was someone that didn't deserve it; deep down he wanted violence)

(This is the end of Part 1, there is absolutely going to be more than one part due to apparent character limit)

[us3rnam3-r3dact3d]

Inspired by the latest Reductive Audio Pt. 2!!

I realized as I was posting that I missed like… half the channel. I didn’t include the ones I just don’t care for or I’m not interested in. So sorry if that includes ur fave 🙏. If you want me cover anybody else or want another lol headcanon for anybody I’ve covered so far, feel free to send an ask!! You can find part one here! With no further ado;

Ollie

Mike’s Hard Lemonade enjoyer. He’s a simple man. What he wants from alcohol is a lil tasty treat that gets him drunk. Mike’s Hard does that. His fav flavor is the strawberry lemonade one.

Babe (Ollie’s listener)

Neat whiskey kind of person. They don’t believe in mixed drinks and are terribly embarrassed when they have to buy Ollie’s Mike’s Hards. They do like it when they order drinks at a bar and the bartender assumes the daiquiri is for them. The look on most faces when Ollie starts slurping that thing down is delicious.

Aaron

Can’t keep his desktop organized for the life of him. Aaron is a Virgo to the max, he has like… five placements of it in his chart. He is incredibly organized. He folds his underwear and puts them into little stacks in his drawer. He has a little velvet lined case where he keeps all of his cuff links and tie pins. His shoes all go in the exact same spot on the rack every single day. But he can’t organize his folders for the life of him. Everything is just saved wherever there’s room for it. It’s incredibly frustrating for him to try and find anything.

Smartass

They are So Good at grocery shopping. Aaron hates grocery stores. The lights and noise and amount of people stress him out. So they make a list together and Smartass gets shit done. They have a system. They group their list by aisle and start at the back of the store, and make their way up to the front, wearing through the aisles. In total, it takes them about 30 mins to shop for two weeks worth of stuff. They time themself. Their record is 23 mins.

Elliot

He wants a cat really badly. His and Sunshine’s current lease agreement doesn’t allow pets, so they’re waiting until they can move. He volunteers at a local cat cafe and is in love with a little calico baby there. He’s determined to adopt her as soon as he can.

Brachium

He wishes that he could try strawberries. Sunshine loves them, but he isn’t able to experience them through anything but their memories. When he feels resentful of his situation, the small thing he gets caught up on is the fact that he’ll never get to try strawberries.

Sunshine

Hasn’t been behind the wheel of a car since their accident. They’ll ride in one if they have to, but they haven’t been able to drive since. Elliot is more than willing to drive them wherever they need to go, and they have a bike they use when he’s busy.

James

As a form of short hand when asking his partner if he can be in their brain for a while, he telepathically goes “Knock Knock.” He has to stop himself from using it with other people.

James’ spouse

Uses snail mail with James. Of course they text and email and call, but they love to write out a letter, put pictures in, pressed flowers. They make beautiful, decorated papers with their gorgeous handwriting. James has chicken scratch, but he still replies to every one. He just has to send an accompanying email with the translation so they can read it.

Anton

Writes poetry in his free time. He’s a scientist, but he believes that science and art are not so different from each other. When he’s stuck on a problem having to do with his work, he’ll write a poem about it. He writes a lot of poems to his partner. He never sends any of them.

Brian

Loves Animal Crossing New Horizons. He’ll never admit it, but it’s his absolute favorite pass time. His favorite villager is Lucky and he bought an amibo card to get him. His island is beautiful and has a sort of cityscape theme. He changes up certain areas for the seasons and does custom builds. He doesn’t believe in treasure islands and does everything for himself. He’s completed the Happy Home Island DLC and is a minor celebrity in ACNH spaces for his customs. If this ever gets out he’ll be ruined.

The Asset

Gets songs stuck in their head. It’s a weird, human thing that they just happen to have. Brian was startled when he heard them humming a Mitski song under their breath. It seemed to disturb him that they were capable of it.

Guy

He thinks he’s a good script writer, but he’s actually most talented in writing fiction. He would absolutely slay as a novelist, but he’s stuck on the idea of being a screenwriter. That’s why his script hasn’t gone anywhere in the last few years.

Honey

When they were a kid and people asked them what they wanted to be when they grew up, they always said “bus driver.” They just thought it would be fun to drive those big ol things around.

Kody

Still stalks the entire D.A.M.N. crew’s social media. He has a few alt accounts he uses to drop nasty comments on everybody’s posts. The crew pretty much knows it’s Kody, but every time they block an account a new one pops up. He seems to delight in messing with Lasko the most, since every time he gets a Kody comment, Lasko won’t post for a few weeks. Kody thinks it’s because he’s scared, but actually Lasko is afraid he’ll violate terms of service with the things he’s likely to reply.

Geordi

Avid consumer of reality tv. He will never admit it, of course. It feels non-intellectual. But he has watched every season of both The Bachelor and The Bachelorette and has incredibly strong feelings about it. He runs a semi-popular twitter account where he live tweets every new episode. He’s deeply, deeply ashamed.

Cutie

Early riser. They’re up before the sun is. It’s somewhat comforting to them to know that they’re the only person up, and there’s nobody who can be thinking about them and them not know it.

Blake

Thinks that Drake won the Kendrick beef. He won’t even listen to “Not Like Us.” He’s been an avid Drake fan for years and refuses to accept that he lost.

Bestie

Does tarot readings, funnily enough. They like the idea of being able to look ahead to the future. On the day that Blake died, all their deck would let them draw was The Ten of Swords.

[ficoandleo]

Hi guys, what do you think of me Romeo headcanons ?

All the best <3

The word 'headcanon' makes Romeo look to Leo for clarification. He's not exactly a fandom person and the combination of words is foreign to him.

"Headcanon is exactly what it sounds like. 'Canon,' but only in your head. Not the biblical kind of canon."

"So it's just a bunch of ideas that somebody--who probably doesn't know you to begin with!--gets in their head about you?" Romeo's phone gives a little buzz, a message from Leo allowing him to open your post. He already looks annoyed at the thought. The last thing he wants is more people spreading stupid, awful rumors about him.

"Well they're usually about fictional characters and not real people, but. Yeah, basically!" It's so funny how they think they're real people.

As a clarification from the writer, most anything Romeo says is 'right' or 'wrong' is merely in application to himself, here. It isn't meant to be applicable to all presentations of Romeo, only my own, on this blog. And even those are subject to change. Your headcanons are always valid, and I, personally, like most of them quite a lot! But you're not here for me!

"This is quite the list. . . ." Romeo crosses his legs and sits back in his chair, making himself comfortable. This is going to take a while. Leo makes himself comfortable, fiddling with his phone.

"I'll leave most of that to you. They're about you, after all. But no worries, I'll provide some witty commentary of my own if I see fit~!"

"Saying that I started at Darkwick 'a couple of years' after I turned 17. . .I've been here almost three years now, just how old do you think I am!?"

"The correct answer is~~~ don't ask💔! It's rude to ask someone pretty their age, okay?"

"Well, I didn't come to Japan before I reached adulthood, I can say that much. I lived in Italy until. . .until it didn't seem safe to continue to do so. Around four years ago." Ha. He wished he could have just come to Tokyo peacefully. . . .

"My parents were quite busy, and I won't deny that I wasn't as close to my father as my mother or nonna. I think most people are--it seems fairly common that fathers aren't the most. . .available for their own children." He doesn't know very many people who wouldn't say they're closer to their mother than their father. Maybe that was just the company he kept, though. "Expected to act as an heir, yes, but I negotiated a bit more freedom through my own skill and efforts. Although I don't think we have the same perspective of what I was supposed to be inheriting."

He briefly recalls how Taiga called him naive shortly after they met. How even recently he said he was still as naive as that day.

". . .but maybe even you know better than I did in this case." Every day he plays mafia. Sometimes he wonders how close he was to 'playing' mafia without ever having to leave the comfort of his own home.

"I mean, your family owned that super famous fashion brand. Not sure what else you'd be inheriting." Leo chimed, half joking. As if it weren't obvious what Romeo could have been in store for in another life--possibly even in this one.

"Ah. But, yes, three siblings and the languages are right. I understand little bits of other regional languages here and there--only what you pick up doing business and singing in other regions. I understand English and Japanese far better. Isn't that strange?"

Romeo frowns as he reads the part about his father, about gambling. He thinks of Taiga calling him naive and greedy. Like your old man. You gotta be more careful with your chips, Lulu! Of parroting words--he never really thought about it, but they may have been nearly the exact same ones--that his father had yelled at. . .his mother? His sister? His nonna? No, his father would never yell at her--

You're being ridiculous. He doesn't have a problem.

Even if he acknowledged it, what good would it do? His father was still in charge of everything--

He partially skips that one. "I was expected to take over for my father eventually. But our brand name was taken from me--from us. And everything went with it after that. I run the casino because that BTH won't do his own damn job and run the business he started. I don't need a reason to hate gambling--it's designed to make you keep trying and losing even when you're already at a loss. What is there to like about it if you aren't in the house position that's meant to see those profits?"

Even in the house position, he doesn't much like gambling. And he'd rather not admit that it might be more personal than that.

"And the drugs makes a profit, same as any other contraband. I wouldn't touch them if I weren't selling them. I don't smoke, either. I don't touch any of that unhealthy garbage. Do you know what that crap does to your body!?" It's a wonder Jin and Haku are in the conditions they're in with how much they smoke. Or, in Haku's case, smoked--he heard he's trying to quit. Good luck with that. "I'll admit to drinking, but I try and keep it to meals and celebrations." And moments of extreme stress. "The drinks Mickey makes are made from anomalous ingredients--all of the effects but none of the risks of actual alcohol. So it doesn't count."

But if that weren't an option he would be drinking real alcohol every night. He may not smoke, but Rui is currently, literally, the only thing keeping him from becoming a full blown alcoholic. . .no pressure or anything, Rui.

He grimaces at the mention of Catholicism or faith at all. "Is anybody back home really religious? Be honest, no one really practiced any of that BS." Well, some people did, especially older people. But it was more tradition and custom than actual belief that kept a crucifix hanging around his neck for most of his life. "I made a deal with a demon. That isn't a sin God would forgive, even if He were good. Even if I believed, what choice would I have but to put my faith elsewhere?"

The first thing he threw away himself after making that deal was the cross he'd worn around his neck. But he couldn't bring himself to blow it up. That felt. . .a little too dangerous, even for something he didn't feel like he really believed in. He'd simply thrown it as far as he could(much further than he could have thrown it a few hours prior) and left it behind.

After all, if a demon came to him and granted him great power, perhaps there was a God too? But by then it was too late to worry. If God saw fit to strike him down he would.

"I don't think most people like school, let alone Catholic school. And I assure you that any attempts to bully me wouldn't have needed my family or their connections to get involved. But they respected me and my family, so if anyone had any SAC about my middle name, they were smart enough to hold their tongues.

". . .as for keeping contact with my family, I don't know if any of my direct family--nonna included--are still alive. And they don't know that about me, either. As far as anybody back home knows the eldest son of the Lucci brand and his personal bodyguard have been missing for several years." Although he has quite the online presence, so if anybody wanted to reach out to him it's far from impossible. He still wears his name with pride.

"My indirect family, with whom I share my last name. . .I never spoke much to them, despite that they provided our security at home. I don't think they cared for me much when I pretty much had Taiga replace their men." But you really can't beat one guy who can beat up two or three guys at once and tells you how pretty he thinks you are all the time. "So I can't say I speak to any of them anymore. Even through letters. I CBA to find out if anyone's alright anyway."

It's probably paranoia. But if your family was attacked over unpaid debts that were out of your control you would probably be paranoid too. If he reached out or started some sort of investigation, someone could get hurt. What if it were him!

"It is virtually impossible to find good, authentic Italian food in Tokyo. Especially if you want something specific or regional--the available ingredients aren't the same either. We had people who cooked for us back home--anyone with money like ours would have, I'm sure--but I don't think that would stop anybody's grandmother as long as she had working hands."

He resists the urge to smile. "But she taught me how to sew more than she taught me how to cook. It's a wonder we got away with that--I had never liked my father simply having others make my designs without any input beyond sketches and notes. I wanted more involvement so that everything would be perfect. . .but that isn't what you're asking about. Nobody cooks like your mother--and even less people your grandmother."

Leo makes a contemplative noise and looks thoughtful about this. Sho is very good at replicating tastes and recipes based off of description. . .and getting good ingredients imported. And he loves making food from different cultures--'Highway To Home' was called that for a reason. For Leo, no one's made better food than Sho, even either of their mothers. It probably wouldn't be the same. . .but he likes the idea of Romeo owing him a favor and giving Sho a challenge, and files the thought away for later.

"Kurossa, which one is pansexual again?"

"Huh? Oh, it's 'where there's a hole, there's a goal,' more or less."

"I thought that was bisexual."

"These days it's pretty much the same thing depending on who you ask."

". . .Which one are you?"

"Awww, do you wanna be like me, Ro-Ro?"

Romeo smirks back at him, tilting his head. "What can I say, you have good taste."

"Honestly, I don't really care. The pan flag's colors look like printer ink, so I just say I'm bi because I don't want the ugly ass neon flag? It's so bright, those colors can look good but you've really gotta put effort in for it. The bi flag colors are a little more muted? The aro colors kinda suck too though."

Romeo appears to be looking up the flags and scrunching up his face. "They're workable colors. I think the fact that they're plain bars is part of what makes them look so unappealing. . . ." But then he realizes he's getting off track and goes back to the headcanon list. "Well, in any case, I favor men as a. . .noticeable pattern. But I've been attracted to others before, so I would say you're probably right. But my interest in fashion is from my family business, and my interest in self care is from both my desire to maintain personal perfection and an upbringing in the fashion business. Top tier clothing wouldn't be tolerated on a face and body that don't compliment it. It would be a waste."

"Like, still put the effort in obviously, even if you can't get it perfect. Some effort is a million times better than no effort." Leo adds, rolling over on the couch.

"Of course. Not everyone can afford the price of true beauty, and not everyone is patient enough for it even if they can. But that doesn't mean you don't do anything at all. They say you can't polish a turd but hikaru dorodango still manages to make some aesthetically pleasing work of simple mud.

"Speaking of brands, while I certainly favor Italian brands," especially his own family's when he can find their older pieces, "I don't shop them exclusively. Primarily, yes, but I'm not going to refuse good and aesthetically appealing products out of some sense of national pride.

"There's a bidet in my private office bathroom and my bedroom's attached bathroom. I've had both almost entirely remodeled, although fortunately, as this is a luxury cruise ship, there wasn't much to be adjusted.

"I'm not interested in sports." Which is to say you're correct in that he acts like he isn't interested, but he does follow it. He's a little too busy to be watching football games on the other side of the planet all that often, but he does keep up. "And I don't hate being called Romeo. I'm used to the mispronunciation by now, although I'm really not certain when it arose considering Japanese is a phonetic language and I've never written it ro-mi-o. Like I've said before, I don't like being called Vice-Captain because it makes me sound off-brand! So I gave myself my own title that they can use instead--there is no doubt that no one here but me is Fico! The only people who have to refer to me as such are my underlings, the casino staff, and the underlings of other houses!"

"I use 'Romi-sama' and 'Ro-Ro' for him and other people use different nicknames too. Maybe that makes it seem like he doesn't like his name since he lets us call him nicknames?"

"How is that I don't refuse friendly nicknames a sign that I dislike my name, as opposed to that the company I keep tends to be people who are much too friendly for their own good!? Most of them use 'Romi' in some way anyway!"

"I'm just speculating! You are so loud all the time."

"And, finally. Of course I have things imported for me from outside of Japan. If I can afford to do it, why wouldn't I?" Especially his fancy €12 bottles of sparkling water!? "It's annoyingly expensive but I've worked out a deal with the mail room. If I can't find something here I'll simply bring it here. I won't compromise my quality of life."

Romeo sighs in exhaustion. Why did he do all of that? He could have just said no, really! But instead you made him give a verbal essay on his own existence. You did it, not me. "There. Do you feel sufficiently validated or invalidated now?

[mrdarcygenderenvy]

Recent Austen adaptations yelling

Ok I DID make this blog to review historical-set Pride & Prejudice adaptations (with an exception made for iconic B&P). But for everyone who was DEFINITELY WONDERING, yes I have also been storing away a lot of opinions about other recent Austen adaptations that I Must Tell Someone.

.

Fire island (2022)

A modern gay party cheesy rom-com P&P that genuinely made me laugh. Having seen some other (whiter) cheesy gay romcoms that were extreeeemely PG & playing it safe, I was pleasantly surprised.

Also Bowen Yang and his story just came across really earnest in a way I was into - would watch this man cry again, 10/10.

Personally as an extremely disabled british nerd (now tragically unable to travel and/or go to the club...) this gay scene is a long way from my queer scene. But I still had emotions, you know?

Kinda wanted more of the Mary analogue and generally just normal looking people (almost everyone is so ripped) but I appreciate that's how beautiful smooth people often look in mainstream american films, we can't have everything.

DARCY WATCH: I do not want to dress like this adaptation's chinos Mr Darcy. But Conrad Ricamora was generally great and very hot and awkward and understood the assignment. Good ice cream throw.

.

Emma (2020)

I know I know, it's pretty... but I don't think that's enough!!!!!

Lovely production, beautiful costumes, a candy wes-anderson cinematography that really suits the story, and it's fun to notice references to actual outfits and prints from the time but lads. LADS. UNPOPULAR OPINION TIME: Where is the chemistry???

You can’t make Mr Knightley a nice sweet boy (so funny to have cast a posh folksy singing man) and leave the plot the same and expect it to work!! Also I was personally pissed off that a lot of the promo/ ads for this made it look like ~forbidden love~ when it's the 2 richest white people in town getting together?? ? There's actually not even a class difference in this one, guys.

Basically this romance was nothing to me!!! I felt nothing!!!!!!!! WHERE'S THE DEPTH

I did like the bit where he lies down though. Relatable.

Also why are you drawing so much attention to the servants when you don’t seem to have anything to say about class...? 'Wow look how many servants they had! Anyway, they don't get any speaking lines'... it's 2020 guys!!! like what are we saying here. 'isn't it cool to think about how people were rich'??

kind of the point of Emma (character) is she's pretty superficial, but the story does not, in fact, have to be

.

Persuasion (2022)

Weeping softly into a pillow........ did you know this version meant a version with Sarah Snook and Joel Fry got cancelled?? we could have had it all

(standing on a table yelling) THE MODERNISATION WAS NOT THE PROBLEM WITH THIS FILM!!!

Honestly I actively liked all the entire secondary cast in this. Louisa and Mary were extremely charming fun takes to watch. ('I'm an empath' IS right for the character if you're doing modern jokes!!!) And nobody can deny this was a correct and powerful use of Richard E Grant.

Henry Golding was naturally great. Apparently he got offered the lead and took the villain instead, which DOES mean the villain is super charming and fun to watch which is... hard to match and.... kind of shows up.... the main man.

It's been said before but the main two were WOEFUL imo. I have no beef with the actors I just question the DIRECTION and whether anyone making this knew (or cared) why people... enjoy things.

Book Anne is the quietest gentlest loser and I LOVE HER and so does basically every Austen nerd. Making her a quirky wine-bath girl who's honestly just cruel sometimes fully stops the main romance chemistry and plot from working.

And it means the main boy is still like 'god I'm so horny for how KIND AND CAPABLE YOU ARE' which is just 100% no longer true. You can't transplant a personality in a romance but leave the plot the exact same and expect it to work. The chemistry IS the plot in a romance..........

you can't act morally superior to your siblings and still rate people out of ten.... also so funny to me that everyone else gets period outfits and hair whereas this protagonist looks like she just glanced at a picture of any time in the past and grabbed a couple shirts from primark. it doen't even look good or build character!!!!!

Anyway, not to be an elderly man like 'ohhh why does nobody care about character these days' but the reason something like Clueless works is because it has the heart of the story right, instead of just copying the surface level stuff.

[narwhalandchill]

anyway. actually somewhat invested in hsr endgame again thanks to feixiao Personally for being so strong And fun so. convoluted gamer ramble time uwu

bc i in fact went and Actually cleared the current apocalyptic shadow with her after procrastinating on the 4th stage bc shit just didnt look worth the wonky strategizing and several retries itd likely take me for a clear at all with all the multi target bullshit happening w both kafkas summon thing and the other one (forgor the name rip) when i had none of the recent weakness ignoring/implanting 5* carries that could shrug it off no problem. so i had just done the 3rd difficulty when the mode refreshed and p much left it there to wait for 2.5

BUT shes here so!!! wahoo. apocalyptic shadow hater era temporarily retired lets see what my girl can do 😤😤

first tries were before today so obviously no robin yet but i got a very good very nice very easy feixiao moment first side clear anyway looking like this

like. very much a nice scrumptious comfy clear we love to see it and a score perfectly capable of carrying a weaker 2nd half clear as long as i got that clear

......buuut as you can see. from the score. on the 2nd scuffed team that id like to call the certified "omg so sorry for not pulling firefly" cope gang. Yeah about that. Clear. i needed. just a successful clear so feixiao side could carry me to the 3* . Wasnt happening actually 💀

bc like. i wasnt even killing the boss before it merked someone (usually himeko or gallagher) and by that point it just fell thru 😭😭 always got thru its 1st phase fine enough but the 2nd just wasnt working out despite several retries where it just played out the exact same every time . so i let it be for a few days kinda thinking i just wouldnt bother w the third star bc at least i got most of the jades there

buuuut. Robin today so i wanted to go try the same 1st half clear with her too (it was a massacre. feixiao can literally get a total of 4 ults during robins ult if u break kafka before the uptime ends bc broken boss = free max flying aureus stacks 💀💀💀 when she can store 12 total) so i was kinda like. fuck it lets TRY to clear that 2nd side too at least try to stay alive and see what i can do bc. the team still felt like i had the right idea going and super break is supposed to be the hsr hyperbloom for content like this anyway . Surely i can figure it out

like firstly i finally put my gallagher on the 2p fire break planars over just usual keel id been using since it was becoming clear that the team as a whole just needed more super break dmg. and same for himeko (i actually had forgor her on sigonia for PF so that was embarrassing) with a break rope + fire orb with crit and speed

.....buuut it still wasnt working out :/// oh well

and like im p much assuming its literally just a gear issue of not actually having enough of a break hybrid build going on for himeko for the clear to work out smoothly at this point (bc himeko break 100% should suffice for this stage. i think mines too slow mostly) so i. went back to the drawing board aka stealing ideas from the one (1) even slightly worthwhile user-generated content category on hoyolab aka lineup assistant and a particular team just. Jumped out at me from there as having potential and well. only had to kick out himeko for none other than the recently e6'd dashing xianzhou swordplay apprentice from the express who beloved by all and i.

Holy shit

im so sorry for my feeble ignorance miss march i wasnt aware of your insane break meta game 😭😭😭😭🙏🙏💕💕💕

Like. on some level yes i Knew her kit had a more break oriented side to it . And that she did some crazy weakness dmg with her fully stacked enhanced basic. but holy fucking shit her and making gallagher shifu just. Slay

like the team lineup on hoyolab i stole for this idea had an E6 gallagher. and a fully farmed 4p iron cavalry for march w insane total BE AND crit. like just v strong investment going on. Whereas i literally just slapped the break rope and fire (yes) orb id attempted on himeko on march and STILL watched her and my feeble e2 gallagher w just 2p 2p BE absolutely obliterate the 2nd half on first try like 😭😭😭😭 thank you march best girl with the cutest design truly the savior of ALL firefly skippers......

[nkjemisin]

A day in the life

People often ask me what my typical day is like. The truth is that I don’t have a typical day. Occasionally I get to spend the whole day from waking to sleep in glorious creation (writing, editing, researching some historical or cultural tidbit I want to include, sketching out a character arc, maybe just vibing to music that gives me a feel for a character dynamic)! More often the whole day is business (interviews, meetings with editor or agent, going over numbers, fact checking, prepping talks). Most of the time it’s an unholy mishmash of both -- like today:

Woke up. Made breakfast. Let the cats out in the backyard while I enjoyed my coffee. Went for a walk for exercise and to wake up my brain, while chewing on a new idea. Came home eager to write... only to find out there’s an error listing on Amazon selling “the paperback version” of my latest book, which doesn’t have a paperback version yet -- which probably means some stores have been selling the ARCs (which you’re not supposed to sell), or possibly selling brand-new editions published in other countries as used (meaning I’m not getting royalties), or maybe selling some random gibberish-filled made-up book that they’ve labeled mine, ‘cause that happens too. No idea how long this listing has been up, but it’s probably been torpedoing my sales numbers. Tried to look at my sales numbers; portal login isn’t working. Emailed support. Then took unscheduled phone meeting about a payroll portal I use (I have one employee) that has gone sideways and created whole new problems. Solved problems! Employee will get paid on time! But lost an hour. Read contracts. Realized I never received the payment voucher (contract) for a short comic project I’m doing. My God I need more coffee. Found out a short story I sent off more than a week ago did not make it through spam filters. It’s a .docx file. Checked for viruses (none). Decided I needed more coffee even tho I’m not supposed to have more than X amount. Coffeemaker is broken (tears). Ordered new coffeemaker. Phone call with an old colleague from my higher ed days; “Your life must be pretty sweet now!” No, I’m doing the exact same shit every day that I used to do as an admin but now I get to think about using my time on writing, without actually being able to use my time on writing. It’s 1 pm and I’m thinking “What a day.”

(Sidenote: Tumblr’s gif search now brings up some, uh, interesting results. The pornbots have been real busy here too I see! “What a day” brings up so many titties. So many.)

Anyway. I do have a pretty sweet life these days, ngl. But I’m venting here so that people who have any ideas about how glamorous things are for a bestselling author... yeah, no. Work is still work, even in the arts.

[bangtansmauyeondan]

THIRTY-FIVE | S04 E01 - First of Many

Pairing: In-Studio Director!Jungkook x Stage Director!Fem Reader

Genre: rivals au, social media au, frenemies to lovers, slow burn, fluff, smut, angst, crack.

Rating: 18+

Warnings: explicit language, mentions of abandonment, alcohol consumption, harmless scheming, dare, bet, smut

Summary: It has always been the battle of the best between you and your college rival, Jungkook. What happens when years later, you cross paths again working for the same network broadcasting company, and the competitive flame is rekindled? Well, a whole new drunken bet that determines your futures wasn’t in your line of vision but here you are… and you have until 35.

SERIES TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @babyboo22 @dionysusenthusiast @luaspersona @timelessruins @royallyjjk @sandraviolante-blog @quarter-life-crisis2 @jub-jub @pb-n-juju @jeonxgoogiee @sugaluvmyg @lookformyvoice @fairy-jaykay @juju-227592 @such-a-wh0re @hoseoksluv89 @exhibitachol @kleirielk @era-genius @hyuneyeon @jjkw-7

PERMANENT TAGLIST: @jinsquishes @persphonesorchid @thatbangtanjagiya @taestefully-in-luv @pamzn @wrmnssoul @ygbubs @halesandy @jayhope88 @bnagtanx1306 @pinkseokchim @busanbby-jjk @babycandy111

•••

You hate Jungkook. You hate him with every ounce of your being. You’re still fuming as you dumped a whole pot of miyeokguk down the food disposal, ignoring your boyfriend’s protests.

“YN, what— I— why did you throw it out? It’s not that bad, I swear, it—“

“It’s not THAT bad?!” You scoffed. You couldn’t hold back your outburst. You were exhausted. You’ve been working on a new project with Hoseok and have not been getting enough sleep. You’ve been trying to keep up with the workload since your bestfriend Byul, Jimin’s wife, has just given birth and would be on a month-long maternity leave.

Jungkook has been staying over a lot, especially on the weekends, and has been quite helpful with keeping your head above water, occasionally lending a hand on your ongoing projects too. It’s been three months since you officially became a couple, and considering how fresh your relationship is, you should still be at the honeymoon phase— disgustingly sweet and inseparable. But nope… not today. Today, he’s the most annoying person in the universe.

You heard about Byul’s good news through Jimin the night before when he asked you for a small and sweet favour: “Can you make miyeokguk for Byul? It’s just that our parents' flights got cancelled because of the storm, and I couldn’t leave her alone at the hospital.”

He didn’t need to ask twice. You sprung into action early the next morning to run to your local groceries to pick-up the ingredients. All you needed were dried seaweed and beef,and the rest were available in your pantry. Easy-peasy! The only problem is that you’re not quite talented when it comes to the kitchen. Whatever, it’s only seaweed soup, what could go wrong? Well apparently, something major could go wrong as solidified by Jungkook’s reaction.

“No, it’s just that, you must have missed some steps… did you– did you soak the seaweed first before you add it to the pot?” Jungkook asked. He had been in the kitchen with you, working on his computer on the kitchen island, but he couldn’t recall the exact steps or recipe that you followed… if you even followed one, that is.

“Soak? No, babe, I stir-fried it directly along with the meat and aromatics… then I added the water. Do I need to soak them?” You sagged your shoulders and started walking to the refrigerator to take out more ingredients. “Now I gotta start all over again,” you muttered under your breath.

“Okay, I know it’s seaweed, but it’s a little bit on the saltier side. The kosher salt is in the other cupboard,” Jungkook opened the cupboard adjacent to the stove. “Did you use the pink–”

“Yes, I used the himalayan salt!” You slammed the chopping board and the knife on the counter, clearly having zero idea that the fancy pink salt you grabbed from the grocery store, thinking it’s cute, is a lot saltier and sharper than the regular kosher salt. “God! What do you want, Jungkook!? You’re so annoying!”

Jungkook’s eyes widened in surprise at your outburst. “Me?” He just stood there, staring at you, tonguing the silver hoop on his lip.

“You know what, forget it…” You huffed. “I’m gonna go rest for a bit, we’ll figure something out by lunch time.”

•••

•••

Jimin and Byul have created a small and beautiful baby boy, face smooshed by his little fists, and plump lips – taken after his father – formed into a natural pout. His eyes were open, blinking as if he could make out his surroundings. Whatever ounce of annoyance you were feeling earlier about the seaweed soup incident has completely diminished when you laid your eyes on the newborn baby.

“He’s beautiful…” You cooed. “Can he see me?” You tried making faces at the little one, earning a laugh from the couple.

“He can’t see yet, YN,” Jimin replied. “But the doctors said he can hear us, so you might as well talk to him and get him used to your voice.”

Your eyes lit up at the new information and immediately crouched down closer, your face inches away from the baby. “Hi, pumpkin…” You started in your softest voice. “I’m your godmother.”

“Where’s Jungkook?” Byul asked.

“Oh, he went to the Nurses Station to ask about your meal plan and if it’s okay for you to have the miyeokguk for lunch,” you smiled. “Um, I’m sor–”

Your words were cut off when Jungkook entered the room, aided by one of the nurses. His hands were occupied by a tray of food– the steaming hot bowl of miyeokguk, thanks to the portable thermos you brought, some biscuits and a selection of cut-up fruits. “Lunch is ready, Mrs. Park!” Your boyfriend beamed at Byul before handing over the tray to Jimin.

“Oh god, that smells heavenly! I’m salivating,” Byul commented. “I didn’t know I was starving til I got a good whiff of the food.”

Jimin carefully spooned the soup, letting it sit on the spoon for a while until cool enough, and started feeding his wife.

“Oh my god,” Byul suddenly started welling up. “Oh god, you guys…”

Jimin was quick to wipe the tears on the corner of his wife’s eyes. “Why? Is it too hot?”

“Oh no, is it bad?” Your eyes met Jungkook’s and he assured you with a simple nod.

“No, are you kidding me? This soup is so good. It makes me miss my mom.” Byul sniffed. “Thank you so much for making me this soup, YN…”

“Oh no, Byul, actually I–”

“YN woke up real early to make that,” Jungkook wrapped his arm around you and gave your shoulder a telling squeeze. “Good, right?”

“I didn’t want Jimin to ask you to make this ‘cause I know you’re busy, but thank you so much, hun…” Byul looked at you, eyes still damp with traces of tears.

You smiled warmly back at her before searching for Jungkook’s eyes. You found him already looking at you, and at that moment you decided to step closer and leaned over his side. What would you do without him?

•••

Jungkook climbed up on the driver’s seat after securing the lunchbox and some of the couple's laundry, which you offered to take, in the backseat of the car. You’re already seated, buckled up in the passenger’s seat, playing on an invisible fluff on your jeans. Jungkook studied your face for a while before leaning in to plant a soft kiss on your cheek. "You alright?" You nodded without looking up, a hint of embarrassment apparent on your features.

“I'm sorry for being an ass earlier,” you pulled your lips into a straight line before meeting his eyes. He chuckled, nose scrunching up in amusement. "I'm serious."

"I know, I know..." He straightened up in his seat and began starting the ignition, “You buckled up?” You hummed.

"Thank you for making the soup for Byul," you said softly.

Jungkook glanced at you before taking your hand in his, intertwining your fingers, and bringing it to his lips. He didn't say a word after resting your clasped hands on his thigh and just focused on the drive home, occasionally glancing your way.

It's the kind of quiet that you both like. The kind of quiet that allows you to be left alone with your own thoughts, and still be at ease with the fact that the other is close by. It's the kind of quiet that tells you more than words could ever say - maturity, security, respect, and love. They're all there, hanging in the air between you. You realize that you're no longer two naive college students trying to outsmart each other while suppressing the fluttering of the butterflies in your stomachs when the other is near. You’re two wise-beyond-their-years adults now, and there may be countless words in the dictionary, but nothing could ever describe how much you’ve grown to love each other more.

•••

A/N - I hope you like this new update! Idk what’s happening but the links seem to be broken on both iOS and desktop. Works fine on Android. So please let me know if you can’t find the Masterlist and the rest of this story!

[crazylittlejester]

I'm glad that you enjoy daily brainrot as much as I do. :) I look forward to 7:00 pm every day because that's when I start typing things up in your askbox. I even have a designated section of my notes app to make sure I don't forget things before brainrot time rolls around.

Also, the fic that I wrote about Warriors having low blood pressure/low blood sugar has bitten me in the butt because now I'm under official orders to solve the exact same problem with almost exactly the same solution that was proposed in the fic. The Ao3 author's curse has finally gotten to me.

I'm fine, it's just very funny to me that literally a month ago I poked around and made up a fantasy Gatorade recipe that I forced upon the poor guy. To be honest, I wouldn't trust Wild and Sky's first attempt, either. Anyway, since I don't trust my own fantasy Gatorade recipe (look, orange juice and salty water can't taste very good) I'm going to try and get something from the store or at least some flavoring from the store.

Getting on to proper brainrot territory, I've been thinking about the suggestion you gave me about writing Time (that he's just the older version of Mask) and I think I'll be able to swing it if I can just get my paragraphs in order. I have some nice snippets here and there that I've written out, it just needs to be organized and properly lined up.

Related to that, I have been considering the development of STEM in the different eras (the arts can wait for another day). Slightly off-topic, the main reason why there's so much Warriors & Sky & Wild in my Emotional Support Loftwing fics is because I feel that they'd have the most medical knowledge because they're knights. Warriors was a soldier in charge of 2 kids, knights in Skyloft were about as close to first responders as you could get, and Wild was the personal knight/bodyguard to Princess Zelda right around the apocalypse.

The others also have fairly good reasons to know stuff, but I feel like the overlap of knight training and the information available in their eras is significant enough to make a difference. This is a whole thing to me, and I will die on this hill willingly.

But back to the point. I think that Warriors' era was probably the closest to the Renaissance, Age of Enlightenment, or whatever it's called. That period in time when people were learning stuff left and right. The scientific method has been thoroughly established, people are starting to consider technology more, medical knowledge is being expanded to better society, and the war is making all of this happen at an accelerated pace because that's what happens during war. It's a documented phenomenon.

Skyloft, on the other hand, is much smaller and more isolated. They're very self-contained, so I feel like their knowledge is more likely long-term accumulation of information. There are fewer people to study subjects and peer-review things, so I think they've got more advancements in subjects like math and certain types of engineering and architecture. Medicine probably sticks closer to treating injuries from accidents and management of acute and chronic diseases.

Of course, Wild's era is really weird so it's kind of hard to say what all they have exactly, but I feel like most of their STEM stuff leans into technology, engineering, and the natural sciences (biology, geology, etc.) based on what I know of Purah and Flora. I think most medical knowledge or other hyper-specific information would have been salvaged based on the whole apocalypse thing with the Calamity. I also don't know exactly how the Shrine of Resurrection works, but I don't think he'd have forgotten how to do things like math, he just lost his memories. So he'd still have any first aid knowledge he got during his training. And I've seen some cool ideas in fics about the Shrine of Resurrection and the Slate using data for the magic-y stuff, and if that's the case, then maybe the weird blue Shrine juice was just liquid information. Maybe Wild knows a little bit too much about certain topics that Flora is 99% sure weren't part of his training program. (I also think Wild's era has the most information on seizures, but that's because of ✨the vibes✨ and not a specific detail.)

I look forward to 7:00 pm every day because that's when I start typing things up in your askbox <- ALDKDWKKFL I start frantically checking my askbox around 8 😭

The Ao3 author's curse has finally gotten to me <- NOOOOO im so sorry 😔

I have some nice snippets here and there that I've written out, it just needs to be organized and properly lined up <- oooooooh thats good!!

I feel that they'd have the most medical knowledge because they're knights <- YESSSSSSSSSSSS YES YES YES

Warriors' era was probably the closest to the Renaissance, Age of Enlightenment, or whatever it's called <- IM SO WITH YOU ON THIS

They're very self-contained, so I feel like their knowledge is more likely long-term accumulation of information <- I SO AGREE

I feel like most of their STEM stuff leans into technology, engineering, and the natural sciences (biology, geology, etc.) <- yes yes yes yes i love how you broke all this down and the different areas of knowledge you’re so right i agree with you 100%

THANK YOU FOR THE BRAINROT :3

[dysco-lymonade]

1. accidental hand touching and 14. looking at their lips as they talk 🥹

Nina, these prompts have me in so many gay disaster Lexa feels.

I’m going to combine these two because, why the hell not.

Again, totally unedited word vomit.

She’s been coming in every night for the last week trying to read the cute blonde’s name tag. Problem is, she’s never wearing it.

She could just ask, but that would require actually talking to the girl. Instead she watches her interact with the other customers as she waits in line. She flirts, and smiles, and genuinely charms every single person she rings up at the register.

There’s something about the corner store attendant that strikes Lexa as a bit rebellious. Maybe it’s the pink highlights in her hair or numerous piercings Lexa has spied. Seven between her two ears alone, the right side of her nose, and what Lexa thought was a Monroe above her lip, but upon closer inspection found out was a freckle.

It’s while staring at that beauty (understatement) mark that Lexa is pulled out of her haze by fingers snapping in front of her face.

“Sorry,” the cashier shrugs with a knowing smirk. “I don’t mean to interrupt your assessment, truly. I could stare at your mouth all night too. But there’s a line forming behind you.”

Lexa feels the blush crawling up her ears as the color simultaneously drains from her face.

Rebellious AND bold, noted.

“I wasn’t- I mean- I’m sorry. I spaced out. Just this please.” Lexa sets the coffee down on the counter as calmly as she possibly can with how much her hands are shaking.

She knows how much it is. She’s been buying the same small coffee here on a nightly basis. Still staring at her own hands and positively terrified of making eye contact with the cashier, she slides the exact change across the counter.

It’s at that moment Lexa decides she’s going to move to another continent.

The cashier meets her halfway, running what feels like a deliciously calloused hand over her own, grasping gently as she accepts the payment.

Before Lexa can enjoy it for too long, she yanks her hand back like it’s been set on fire, effectively knocking the coffee cup over and actually burning the shit out of herself.

Her silver lining comes from a voice at the back of the store.

“Yo, Clarke! What the hell, dude?”

“Piss off, Murphy! I’ll clean it up. Just keep doing… whatever it is you’re doing.” Before Lexa can even apologize, Clarke is wiping up the coffee spill. “Happens more often than you’d think.” She winks. Lexa dies.

“I’m so so sorry, it’s been a really long day.” It’s an awful excuse, Lexa knows the cashier, Clarke, must think she’s an absolute twit.

Either there is a God, or Clarke takes pity on her because the teasing retort never comes. She just puts the coffee soaked money in the register and tells Lexa to go ahead and upsize when she pours herself a new cup.

She doesn’t even go back to the coffee station. Lexa walks herself right out the door of the corner store and vows to never return.

[babybulls15]

(Lestappen, 3.3k, rated T, 1/1)

(Established Relationship, Crack Treated Seriously, Fluff and Crack, Christmas Fluff, Marriage Proposal, Christmas Party, Karaoke, Attempt at Humor, Perfect Christmas by S Club 7 is a good song, Mistletoe by Justin Bieber is too but not for a proposal, don't let Daniel and Lando plan your proposal if you don't want a flash-mob, but luckily Max locates a braincell before it could go too far)

Summary:

Lando got the idea that Max could also just sing the song himself. That way he didn’t have to dance but could still be the one to lead the whole thing. Apparently they did listen to Max repeatedly telling them he hated dancing, yet chose not to acknowledge his rejection of the overall idea. --- After getting outsourced from his own proposal planning, Max tries to come up with a way he can show Charles his love, without having to dance. (But ends up doing it a little bit anyway.)

Read it on Ao3 or below. :)

(I hope you enjoy and I'd love to hear your thoughts! :3)

------------------

Charles had a weird relationship with Christmas.

Of course, Charles himself would never admit that. He always said, that it was nothing more than a normal amount of enjoyment. But Max knew better.

Charles was obsessed.

Over the course of his life, Max was sure, his boyfriend had bought at least two years salaries worth of Christmas decorations. From little Christmas tree ornaments to big light-up stars, he seemed to have decorations for every available surface of the house. Max was relieved that Charles drew the line at all things inflatable, because even though he loved him, that would’ve been a step too far. Other than that, all bets seemed to be off though. A few years ago Charles had even escalated to replacing kitchen utensils and appliances with Christmas-themed ones, when the holiday time started.

And oh boy did it start. Early. At least for Max’s taste.

Charles didn’t go so far as to begin celebrating his favourite holiday on the first of September, when the supermarkets would kickoff selling Christmas related products, but he did start shopping for what he seemed to await the whole year.

The week before the first advent.

For most of that week, Max made sure to be as far away from the flat as possible. Because in addition to being obsessed with the holiday in general, Charles was particularly obsessive when it came to the perfect arrangement of all things Christmas in their home. Everything had to be in the right place and light up at the exact same time. When all of it was set up and done though, Max always helped him tidy up the packaging and store it all for the end of the season. Then they usually fell onto the couch, from where Charles could admire his work and point out all the little details to Max.

Max had never really gotten the hype, if he was honest. Sure it was pleasant to have a few things to make the flat feel cozy and warm during the winter – he could appreciate a nice string light or a well decorated Christmas tree. Still, holidays, particularly Christmas, seemed so oversold to him. Throughout his life, growing up, dealing with marketing and sponsorships for every available holiday, Max had simply lost the enthusiasm for it. He could still appreciate the cheer, but didn’t understand why some people got so overly excited, they had to theme their whole lifes around it.

But Max understood Charles.

He understood how much it meant to him, to have an occasion dedicated to family and celebrating the love between all of them. To get to have down-time and just revel in being near all the people he sees so little of the rest of the year.

Max also understood that Charles just really loved decorating for it.

So he endured the perfectionism, the timers blocking every available outlet and the themed kitchen tongs. There was nothing he would not do for Charles.

This was were the problems started though.

Because Charles knew. He knew and at least during the holidays he seemed to take shameless advantage of it. Roping Max into every Christmas-related activity he could think of.

One of these activities also included another thing Max normally didn’t really care for. Karaoke.

Every year around the third advent, Charles gathered all their available friends and family for a Christmas-themed karaoke night. To celebrate what was, to Charles, the absolute best thing about that time of the year. Christmas Music.

He always booked the room a year in advance and would demand of everyone to be free, because it’s a year from now, what else could you have already planned?

And that’s how Max found himself, sitting in a private karaoke bar, with about as much decorations as their own living room, surrounded by people who where important to them, trying unsuccessfully to calm himself down.

He could not fuck this up. This was important.

Because Max was on a mission.

He knew how much Charles loved Christmas, how much he loved Christmas-Karaoke, how much he loved their families and friends. And Max also hoped he knew how much Charles loved him. Enough to say yes to marrying him.

He had been planning this for a while now. The thought of proposing to his boyfriend on his favourite holiday had been bumbling around Max’s mind for even longer. Yet he had never had the right idea on how to go about it.

So seeing that after being together for 4 years, Max did not want to delay it any further, in July of that year he had caved and told his friends. His first mistake. Because involving Lando and Daniel could never end in a way that was helpful to anyone.

Their initial reaction had of course been one of support. They were happy for the two of them. But Max should have seen the chaos that followed coming.

He had told them what he had come up with so far. Which was not really anything at all, aside from the vague idea, that it had to be around Christmas and needed to have something to do with music. Lando and Daniel had been understandably sceptical and immediately started taking over the planning.

It had all gone downhill from there.

After hours of discussions about proposal plans that seemed to have nothing to do with neither Christmas, music nor Max, they had come to the conclusion that the only way the whole thing would work, was if they were there. So no private moment just for the two of them to enjoy. No, it had to be something big, something that would make an impression. Not just on Charles but hopefully on the whole world.

A flash mob.

And even worse, a flash mob to Mistletoe by Justin Bieber.

Max didn’t know what he found more horrible about that idea – the song, the fact that he was supposed to dance, or the mass of other people that would be doing it with him. He was self-aware enough to know that any kind of dancing from him before a proposal would not end in the result he’d like. But Lando and Daniel had stopped listening to him at that point. All entranced in their amazing idea and already working on choreography.

Fuck.

But apparently being backed into a corner by his overenthusiastic friends, seemed to get his brain working. While they tried to decide on which racing circuit to rent, Max thought about all the things he did not like about their idea and from there tried to find out what he thought would work.

Christmas and music. But no Justin Bieber.

And their families. Because even though Max shuddered at the image of a hundred strangers dancing to a teenagers Christmas pop song, he rather liked the idea of sharing the moment with people. People he actually knew and cared about. So maybe their friends could come too.

But organizing a special gathering would be hard to pull off in secret. And bringing it up to Charles directly would probably only raise suspicions. They were spending the actual holiday only with Charles’ family in Monaco. And Max’s mum and sister were heading to a tropical island on Christmas Eve to mix it up a little. Their annual karaoke meet-up would be the last time they’d all see each other.

The karaoke meet-up.

It seemed to have everything, happening close enough to Christmas for Charles to be in the right mood, involving music, all the relevant people and most importantly, no dancing. At least not the mass choreographed kind.

So Max had finally settled on an occasion, but was still coming up a bit short on the actual execution. He resigned himself to letting his two friends have their fun, thinking of a million ways to embarrass him in front of his boyfriend and the world. However he would need to cut them off at an appropriate time, so it didn’t get out of hand. In the meantime, Max could definitely use some of their plan to his advantage though.

Daniel had tasked him with writing the proposal speech, which was nice considering he was the one doing the actual proposing, but it also presented another problem.

He didn’t know what to say.

Or rather he knew what he wanted to convey, what he felt for Charles and what he wanted him to know, but Max could not, for the life of him, find words that would express that.

“Just say what’s in your heart.”, had been Daniel’s advice, which did nothing to loosen the knot that seemed to have tied up the pipeline between Max’s heart and his head.

Ultimately it was Lando who had the idea that did just that.

“You could always just quote something.”, he had shrugged while scrolling through his phone to find a suitable dance group to hire.

Max, who had been prepared to be as dismissive of the idea as he had been of all the dancers he’d been shown so far, had paused and taken a second to think about it. Sure, quoting would take away from the originality of his speech, but it would still be as genuine. He could even quote someone Charles admired, so it would be doubly heartfelt.

With this new plan in mind, Max started to look through all the books he knew Charles liked and that had romance in them. There weren’t too many but none of them seemed to really fit their situation.

Again Lando came to the rescue. Even if it was not how he thought he did.

After giving up on trying to convince Max to hire professional dancers for the proposal-flash-mob-that-was-definitely-happening, Lando got the idea that Max could also just sing the song himself. That way he didn’t have to dance but could still be the one to lead the whole thing.

(Apparently they did listen to Max repeatedly telling them he hated dancing, yet chose not to acknowledge his rejection of the overall idea.)

Still, Max could’ve hit himself. His whole plan revolved around them being at a karaoke bar, but he didn’t think of just finding a song to quote? And there were so many opportunities. Christmas songs were littered with cheesy love declarations and if something didn’t feel completely right, he could just try to rewrite a bit. At least it wouldn’t be a whole speech.

So that settled it. He would find a song to sing to Charles and convey the love and dedication he had for his boyfriend, without making a complete fool of himself.

Or so he thought.

Because yes, in theory, that sounded like a bullet-proof plan to him. In reality Max had to get up on that stage alone and sing - actually sing - a song that would hopefully not make Charles say no to his question.

Max was so fucked.

He tried calming himself once again by getting up for another drink. He was a Formula 1 driver, for fucks sake. Why was this so hard?

It didn’t help that he hadn’t told anyone he would be doing this. Not even Lando and Daniel.

Max looked around. He could see the two of them sitting on one end of the couch, snickering at each other. They got some weird looks from Pierre and Carlos sitting next to them, clearly not following what was happening. It was probably nothing good anyway. Charles was currently on stage with his mum, singing a strangely not-really-weirder-than-normal version of ‘Baby it’s cold outside’, which was a feat considering that it was already a pretty weird song to begin with.

In any case it could not get weirder than Daniel and Lando’s rendition of ‘Santa Baby’ they had all witnessed an hour ago. Max had had the strong urge to cover his sister’s eyes, because whatever that was, it was not something he wanted her to have to sit through. Charles had apparently not been as strong as him, because when Max had looked over during a particularly disturbing part (involving a lot more thrusts and voice lilting than ever necessary) his boyfriend had been trying to shield Arthur from the sight, Lorenzo laughing hysterically next to him.

That had fortunately been the last time his two friends had been allowed to sing together. Every time they had made to get up after, someone else had managed to get one of them to agree to sing something harmless with them.

So al things considered, the evening was going great. Max had even gotten up on stage himself - although not alone. Never alone.

It had become a small tradition, that Charles and Max would each choose a song for them to sing together. That way, they both had some element of surprise to their performance. This year Charles had chosen ‘Let it Snow’, traditional yet romantic, while Max had gone for something a little more up to date. He kind of felt bad for Lando and Daniel, seeing as the grand plan they were working on, would never see the light of day, so he had chosen ‘Mistletoe’. It was worth it just for the look on everyone’s faces when the opening began playing, but had been surprisingly fun as well.

However now he did not feel as confident as he had then.

So as Charles and his mum finished their song and everyone applauded, Max got even more nervous. He knew this was it. The moment. The opportunity to go up there and just. Do it.

Somehow his body had gotten the message before his brain did, because by some miracle Max ended up on the stage, in front of the computer, typing in the song he was going to sing.

He was going to do it.

In his haze, Max had not noticed that, while he climbed up the small steps, the room had fallen eerily silent. Everyone was sitting on the couch expectantly looking at the stage. He only realized that all the attention was on him, when he turned around.

And froze.

Max looked at the crowd. Took in his mother, his sister, Charles’ mum and brothers, all with a slight look of confusion in their eyes. He decidedly did not look at Daniel and Lando. And then his eyes fell on Charles and his nervousness evaporated.

Because Charles just smiled at him.

It wasn’t a knowing smile. He definitely had no idea what was going to happen. But it was a reassuring one. The one that always made Max feel ready to face any and all challenges thrown his way. That made everyone else in the room disappear. So without breaking eye contact, he smiled back and pressed play.

The opening melodies of ‘Perfect Christmas’ by S Club 7 started playing. The background singers soft ‘do-do-do’ filling the room. Max took up the microphone.

“Hey everyone.”, he greeted, waving a little awkwardly. “You’re probably wondering what the hell I am doing up here. And alone at that. I’d just like to take the opportunity to say something.” A pause. “And also sing.” Multiple people chuckled. Charles was still looking expectantly at him.

“Charles.”, Max began again and understanding dawned in his boyfriends widening eyes. “I have thought a lot about what I want to say up here. What I want to say to you. And you know me, I’m not particularly good with words.” Max rubbed his neck and his boyfriend chuckled. “But I love you and I want this to be perfect for you. So Lando suggested I could just...borrow someone else's.” Max’s eyes flitted to his friend, who gave him a smile and a wink. “So that’s what I’m gonna try to do now.”, he continued, “Not every part of this song works, so I’m gonna try to just...riff it? But in the end I hope you’ll know what I’m trying to say.”

With his last words the second chorus hit and Max tried to make his voice sound as even as possible as he sang, however crookedly: “The perfect ending to a wonderful year. Would be to celebrate the good times with you here. 'Cause I know for sure, I never wanted anything more. “

He tried a little shuffle from one side to another. Charles’ eyes following his every move.

“The greatest gift that there could be. Wrapped underneath my Christmas tree. Would be the same my whole life through. I'd spend the perfect Christmas with you. Though the winter seems so long. My faith in love has kept me strong. So if I had a wish come true. I'd spend the perfect Christmas with you.” At the last words he took the ring box out of his pocket, got down on one knee and opened it.

“Charles Leclerc, will you marry me?”, he asked, voice wavering just the tiniest bit.

But his worries were unfounded, because Charles, who had already leapt from his place on the couch when Max got the box out, now practically ran to the stage. His eyes were welling up with tears. When he got to Max, standing on eye level with him kneeling on the platform, he threw his arms around Max’s neck while giving him an enthusiastic “Yes! Yes! Oh god yes!”

The whole room erupted into applause, but Max could only concentrate on Charles in front of him, his fiancé. Slipping the ring onto Charles’ finger, then his hands cupping Max’s cheeks and their lips connecting in the most wonderful kiss they had ever shared, Max was so relieved. Relieved he had done it, but also relieved Charles had said yes. He’d had no real doubt he wouldn’t but there was always a sliver of a chance.

They broke apart, resting their foreheads together and looking deeply into each others eyes. “I love you, cheri.”, Charles whispered. “I love you too, Schatje.”, Max whispered back. “And I’ll never stop.” Charles huffed a wet laugh at that. “Me neither. I promise.”, he said. They smiled at each other for a second longer, before being pulled apart and into the embraces of their friends and family.

After a lot of bone-crushing hugs from their mothers and siblings, Max came face to face with his two immensely disappointed flash-mob-proposal planners. He could tell they were going for the full guilt trip, but Max could also see the genuine excitement in Lando’s eyes and the way Daniel’s lips would barely stay in the frown he was trying to put on. After just blankly staring at each other for a few seconds all three of them burst into laughter. Then Max got a hug from both of them as well.

“Mate why didn’t you say anything sooner? We would’ve totally helped you.” Daniel said. Lando just rolled his eyes. “I think you know exactly why he didn’t ask us again. We went a bit overboard didn’t we?”, he asked, looking a bit sheepish. Max just laughed again. “It’s fine, you did help me a lot. So thank you.”, he said and hoped they knew how much he meant it. “But let’s just shelf the flash-mob idea for one of your proposals.” All three of them grinned at each other.

The evening didn’t end there, but Max’s performance remained the last thing to happen on the stage. No one wanted to follow that. So they sat and talked, simply enjoyed each others company. Just like Christmas was supposed to be.

While Charles, as always, seemed to entertain the whole party, Max sat back and let himself revel in the fuzzy feelings he found himself full of. He didn’t think he had ever enjoyed something Christmas-related this much. But as so often before, Charles had somehow found a way to bring Max out of his shell and get him excited about something he had lost faith in a long time ago.

Looking at Charles now, enthusiastically talking about an encounter with a childhood friend he’d had at the grocery store last week, Max couldn’t help but smile. Charles was his fiancé. His fiancé. The man he was going to marry. How did he get so lucky?

Then another thought struck him.

What if Charles wanted them to write their own vows?

[tomyo]

Maka Supplementals

Hey welcome to my "Maka Supplementals" post aka when you become so obsessed with an anime character, you start to treat any other character that looks like them as that character. I've been in this fandom and ancient amount of time and for some reason, I'll just notice a very Maka like quality in them.

Neiro from Kaiba

I'm probably ruining myself by starting with the best. Kaiba (2008) is really a series you can easily project not just Maka AND Soul but the rest main cast onto. I stg I thought Bstar and Popo had the same VA (they definitely have the same god complex). Naturally the pigtails and droopy eyes were a huge connector and the orange/green color scheme is frequently used to represent our fav duo. As for the story, it's mostly around Kaiba and Neiro being just out of reach of each other and a new technology that allows people to store and transfer memories to new bodies. Neiro also makes a good Kaiba type as a stern person in the present but soft and kind in the past/later on. She also has family trauma which may be a theme. On its own it's a masterpiece but I actually made my first SE friend in part due to us both separately coming into SExKaiba au art.

Mikan from Gakuen Alice

I only ever read the series but I figured anime art would pop more. Mikan, the mc, our classic lightish hair color in pigtails and you could possibly call her eyes droopy shaped. Tbh I can hardly remember this series since it's been 11+ years since I last read it but I do remember Mikan having mother issues. If I remember right it's a magic academy shoujo and I probably wouldn't have included it but I wanted to show off that cute angel outfit she's wearing.

Shizuku from Tonari no Kaibutsu

When I watched this series in 2014, this was the first time I said "Oh, this character is just Maka" and thus this list was born. Did you ever want to experience Maka in a Shoujo where her love interest looks like DtK but acts like Bstar? Here you are, the most frustrating romance ever. Shizuku Mizutani is a pretty perfect Maka type, she's quiet, serious, extremely studious, and constantly annoyed by everyone else's shenanigans. One day she's sent to deliver socially maladjusted Haru Yoshida his homework and naturally a classic nightmare romance starts. I'm not kidding when I say every episode one of the two confesses to the other who then turns them down. Honestly, that's the plot. The first confession is right at the end of episode one and it doesn't stop. Can't lie though, I love high school tropes and aesthetics so it's a fun way to reimagine the crew's life going.

Kirin from Gakuen Babysitters

Absolute baby. If you want to imagine was toddler Maka was like then Kirin is pretty good for that. She's not really a main focus of the story but Gakuen Babysitters is still surprisingly good. Kirin really feels like the tiny Maka we saw in Chrona's soul, very outgoing and friendly to those who aren't as confident. She often fights with a Black Star like nursery mate and has an aggressively doting dad that aligns perfectly with Spirit. One small story arc with her is wanting to be a witch. Not really a lot of anything but a cute detail to point out.

Marnie from Pokemon

She has pigtails and 2011 me drew Maka in the exact same outfit. Ngl, this is a real head empty one but I'm still not over that happening.

Nino from Fukumenki Noise

Sorry this is actually just another kind of annoying shoujo. Outside of the hair, Nino is pretty much nothing like Maka. Unlike most series where the story is a string of misunderstandings, Nino's naivety is often a major problem where she cheerily sings over listening to her best friend/crush's home problems and doesn't reflect on the ways her actions could be affecting others. So why is she on here? The music segments. There's this raw and unpolished nature to the singing that really just brings something special to it. Honestly just watch the singing proportions, ignore the bad cgi (in 2017 no less) and pretend its Maka "I don't get music" Albarn singing it.

Sana from Kodomo no Omocha

Probably the only series I've watched before Soul Eater on this list. I recently rewatched and kept feeling weird about the Maka vibes I was getting off of it. Sana does start the series pretty annoyed her schooling is being interrupted and her middle school uniform looks like the Sparoi uniform but her more core characteristics is being a child star and is extremely hyperactive because of it. So what was it? She's voiced by Laura Bailey. It's very interesting to hear her distinctive wobble in Sana's voice. Of course that isn't all, Sana has family issues and her genki personality is related to people pleasing so it's interesting to see when that facade drops. While the manga leaves a stronger impression, the end of 17- start of 18 has a few particularly beautifully scenes of animation.

Also something I want to point out is Sana's amazing wardrobe. Despite being 90s, the bright colors work great for Y2K looks that feel right for Mala's style sense. I wish I could use more than 10 photos to show them off. The anime uses a lot of long sleeves and skirts and the manga has some more trendy fashions like the fur trim cardigans that are popular right now so I'd look there for some outfit Y2K revival references.

[artist-issues]

I don't know if your still active or not, but here goes. I'm an American born and raised in america. My skin color is brown light. Every time I hear the word black people all I see is dark skin Americans from me. When I saw a character that was brown skin light like myself I saw no problem with it until someone on twitter said it was racist and made them darker. Why is that? Also I hate the little mermaid movie, I grew up surrounded by white people in schools, stores, everywhere. Not once I experienced racism. I refuse to join the whole "let's hate white people parade" and I hate when white skin Americans are starting to hate themselves. Sorry if my wording was wrong.

I think there's probably lots of reasons for people making everything about race. For one thing some people like to complain needlessly because it gets them more notice on social media. For another, some genuinely believe the lie that race matters.

Race doesn't matter. We're all people. Doesn't matter what shade of skin color you have or I have or anybody has. Geez, I don't understand why that has to be said so often.

It's like if somebody had a smaller pair of ears than most of the people in Hollywood and we all went, "well unless I see an actor in that role with ears as big as mine, I can't relate to them!"

That's just silly. It's just silly.

(Now obviously, when people have an issue with a "lack of representation in media," as they term it, they don't normally defend it as "I have to have someone of with some of the same physical attributes as me onscreen, in a lead role." What they really mean is not an emphasis on physical attributes, but an emphasis on a kind of person--a person who has some of the same experiences as them. Ancestrally, socially, ulturally--usually assuming there's some link between the physical and the experiences. Which is also silly. Because one, that's not a good correlation to make, and two, you don't have to have the same exact set of experiences as someone else to relate to them, or even to empathize with what they're experiencing.)

If you can relate to an insecure animated lion in the Lion King even though you're not a lion; if you can relate to a robot looking for love in Wall-E even though you're not a robot; if you can relate to a kid waking up with incredible spider powers and learning how to take responsibility in any Spider-Man movie, even if you're not a kid waking up with incredible spider powers--then maybe it's time to acknowledge that some things are just universal, and more important, than others.

We're all humans. That's the important thing for characters to represent.

You can relate to insecurity, to looking for love, to learning how to take responsibility--because all humans can. You don't need to relate to an outward appearance. You don't even need to relate to a culture--again, you're not a lion living on a ceremonial rock ruling over animals (like Simba.) You're not a robot built for cleaning up a higher being's mess (like Wall-E.) Yet you can still somehow relate to them--because humans can relate to anything that feels human.

Including each other, even when we aren't lions--or black--or white--or brown--or robots--or have ancestors who were oppressed--or have ancestors who were oppressive--

We can empathize with and relate to one another, because we're all made in the image of the same God.

People should stop zooming in on what makes their own experience different and alien from everyone else's, and then insisting that everyone LOOK AT IT in the form of "representation." Why do they want to scream the same "nobody understands how this feels except for people who are in the exact same racial-socio-economic-gender-political-age situation as me!"?

Why do they want to do that? Because being a victim, being different, being special, doesn't make you more relatable. It just raises you up higher than everybody else. It says "give me special attention, without accusing me of wanting special attention."

We don't want to relate. We want to be special.

We don't want to focus on what makes us similar anymore. We want to focus on what makes us different. We don't want to unify; we want to divide. We don't want to love each other in spite of past wrongs or current wrongs and differences--we want to hate each other for those things.

And if we're not in the people-group that everyone is calling "special" at that particular moment, we want to at least be associated with their "struggle" by calling for "representation."

That's the main reason why, I think, people cared about the shades of skin in casting enough to call one another racist.

[alixinwwonderland]

so the universe i started with this fic and this sequel seems to have more in store! part three, here we go! thanks @wonderlandleighleigh @bekindreblog for bouncing ideas with me and for some much-needed inspiration.

(this will probably end up on ao3 at some point, link to come!)

Since Alfie’s little sojourn into the future, Midge has been going into overdrive trying to fix everything that went wrong. And, yes, she even has a brand-new notebook to track as much of it as she can remember, how it all happened, and where she might be able to stop it in its tracks. Her notebooks haven’t let her down yet, so why should this be any different?

She makes a schedule to remind herself to spend a certain amount of time each day (or at least every other day) with each of the kids. It goes against everything in her nature not to turn that into a bit for her act, too, but if “Mrs. X at the Gaslight” could still come back to haunt her, then the last thing she needs is some greasy-haired dweeb recording her confessions of terrible motherhood just enough to have them pop up when Ethan and Esther are old enough to be permanently scarred by their mother joking about forcing herself to spend time with them. She’s not even forcing herself to spend time with them, just to schedule when that time is, but she suspects that’s not a distinction that will play well with audiences or with the kids. So, out of the act it goes, against Susie’s objections.

The family stuff, ironically enough, is easier than some of the professional. She’s still laboring away at Gordon’s show, and while it’s better than her first go-round, filled with unwanted flirting from the boss and constant opposition from coworkers, it’s still not what she wants to be doing. She knows, in the back of her mind, how future-her solved the “writers can’t be on the show” problem, but she’s not ready to take that leap or burn those bridges just yet. 

Besides, there’s a bigger problem at hand: namely, Susie having a rare lapse in street smarts and getting herself and Midge entangled with the mob. That, again, is not something that Midge wants to relive the way it was in Alfie’s version of the future, so she’s stuck with trash-can musicals once again. 

And now, she’s stuck in Chicago, doing a couple of sets at a club owned by a “friend” of Frank and Nicky’s, whose headliner pulled out at the last minute for reasons not clearly explained. It’s a weekend, and she’s got nothing to do on Saturday afternoon but explore a new city and try to figure out how to extract herself from this mess. Susie doesn’t seem to have seen as much in her vision as Midge did, or if she did, she’s keeping it secret even from Midge, and all she’ll say is that she’s “working on it.”

When she decides to indulge in a hearty sandwich for lunch, Midge picks a deli at random, knowing deep down that it’ll probably be disappointing by her standards, but hoping it will be at least passable. The bigger surprise is when the woman seated on the stool next to her turns her head and Midge realizes that she knows her, at the exact same time the other woman realizes the same thing.

“Hi,” Mei says.

“Hi,” Midge answers.

“What are you doing here?” Mei winces. “Sorry, that came out a lot ruder than I thought. I just meant—”

“Didn’t expect to see me here?” When Mei shrugs in agreement, Midge nods. “You and me both.”

Then Midge looks at Mei — really looks at her, and a thought occurs to her: a memory of a months-ago conversation with Frank and Nicky, and an allusion that Mei’s family is frightening enough to even scare off hardened mob goons.

It’s probably a bad idea. It’s almost certainly a bad idea. But, fight fire with fire, as they say, right?

“Hey,” Midge begins. “I know I have… absolutely no right to ask you this. Or ask you anything, really. But, honestly, I’m desperate.”

“I’m flattered,” Mei says dryly, and not for the first time, Midge gets the sense that, in some other life, she and Mei could have gotten along pretty well.

“My manager, she doesn’t usually get things wrong, but when she does, boy do things go wrong,” Midge continues. “Which circles back to your first question.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Exactly,” Midge says. She lowers her voice slightly, aware of the public space they’re in. “Couple of years ago, Susie made some … friends, let’s say. And now business is picking up and they’ve turned out to be less of friends and more of…”

“Ah. That kind of friend,” Mei says delicately. Midge presses her lips together tightly and nods.

“So here I am, in Chicago, using up the only free time I’ll have all month, doing sets for their friend’s club. I had to emcee a musical about municipal waste! There’s no end to it. They said they own us,” Midge hisses. “And now Joel’s sniffing around, and knowing him he’ll try to do something stupid out of some misplaced savior complex about me and the kids, and then—”

She stops and looks back at Mei.

“Sorry,” she says. “I didn’t mean to bring up—”

“It’s okay.” Mei shrugs it off. “I mean, you’re not wrong.”

“Look. I know we’re not friends, not in any definition of the word. But I may have heard … things. About the kinds of circles your family may or may not run in, and the kinds of people who are scared of them.” 

A faint grin appears on Mei’s lips. 

“And you were hoping, what, that I could call in the cavalry and save all of you from your own naivete and stupidity?” Mei asks, blunt as can be.

“Wow, they definitely haven’t gotten to the ‘bedside manner’ portion of med school, have they?” Midge cracks. 

“It’s overrated,” Mei parries back, and there’s that dry, dry humor again that makes Midge wish things had gone differently. “Okay,” she says, getting off her stool and putting a few bills by her plate to pay.

“Okay?” Midge echoes back, startled at the abrupt shift. Mei picks up her purse from the counter, then turns back to Midge.

“Your manager — Susie, you said?”

“Yeah. Susie Myerson.”

“Well. You tell Susie to keep an ear out. And if some guy shows up to deliver Chinese food but without the food, you tell her she should invite him in. Good luck with your shows, Midge.”

Mei is already almost out the door when Midge gets with the program enough to hurry after her, tossing her own money on the counter and nearly losing a shoe on the way out.

“Mei!” she calls out, hurrying after her on the sidewalk. Mei stops and turns around. When Midge reaches her, the only thing that falls out of her mouth is, “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why would you do this for me? After everything that happened — with Joel, and with everything else — you’re just going to … help me? Without even asking for a favor or something in return?”

Mei’s eyes narrow.

“First of all, I don’t do that favor bullshit. My family might, but in case you haven’t noticed, I’m here by myself, on my own merit, no favors called in. Draw your own conclusions.”

“I’m sorry, I know you — I didn’t mean —”

“Second. You’re right that Joel is exactly the type of man who would puff himself up and try to fix things and get himself into trouble instead. And as … as badly as things ended, the image of how that could turn out isn’t one that I’m interested in seeing. And it’s not one that your kids deserve.”

Mei takes a deep breath and seems to relax a little as she looks squarely into Midge’s gaze.

“And third? I sort of owe you, anyway.”

“Me? What did I do?” Midge asks, trying to sort through her limited interactions with Mei to figure out when she’s ever done something to actually help instead of make things worse. Mei smiles, and it’s an actual smile, not a sarcastic or ironic one.

“That night, in the hospital, while we were waiting for news about Moishe, and you started in with all the questions about co-parenting and managing the kids’ schedules and me and Joel living together, and all of that.”

“I thought I scared you off with that. Joel thinks I scared you off with that,” Midge can’t help adding. Mei lets out a short huff of laughter at that.

“Of course he does. And I guess from his perspective, that’s what happened. But from mine, it’s that you showed me, clear as day, what that life would look like. What my life would have looked like, if I’d stayed and gone through with… with all the plans. I don’t know, it felt like—”

“A glimpse of a future you realized wasn’t for you?” Midge asks, a little wry. 

“Yeah. Yeah, exactly,” Mei says softly. Midge smiles.

“I know what you mean.” They’re quiet for a moment, until Mei shakes herself out of it.

“Remember. Susie. Chinese food. Don’t forget.”

“Got it. Thanks, Mei. And… good luck. I think you’re going to be a really, really great doctor.”

Mei grins.

“You bet your ass I am.”

Mei’s good to her word. A week later, Dinah ushers a skinny, bespectacled man in a suit into Susie’s office. Midge never finds out what, exactly, was in the briefcase he brought over, nor will Susie tell her what was said during her conversation with Frank and Nicky. 

“Better that you don’t know the details,” Susie says ominously.

Whatever blackmail is in there, though, it does the trick. Frank and Nicky will never be fully gone — that appears to be the cost of doing this kind of business, even if it makes Midge wary — but it’s much better than being “owned” by them. And that, Midge thinks, is good enough to make a start.