#idk if i am making ANY cents but

[teddydeer]

hi! im wondering if anyone has any advice on something im struggling with creatively ;; its hard to articulate but its about making oc's, self expression, identity and trauma

so i used to make oc's all the time when i was younger. they were characters filled with so much soul and personality and little pieces of me but ive really lost the ability to make them bc of my mental health. i really struggle with my identity, not gender and sexuality but my personality and who i am as a person. theres been so many times where ive tried to be a different person, either because of masking or out of self hatred, and ive had many different people tell me many different contrasting things about myself so i feel like a ghost. i can tell you i like the color pink, i love pokemon and tamagotchis and im an artist but it feels so surface level, and it translates to the characters i make now. theyre all focused on design and appearance, like theyre either based on a dessert or theyre a gijinka of a pokemon and that expresses my interests and tastes but i miss having more than that. i miss characters that i could tell you what their favorite kind of weather is, what they carry around in their bag, or what their voice sounds like, and i would be able to connect that back to myself. for example, ive had this oc named wesley since i was 15. he is warm, softhearted, caring and paternal. he is all about nature and is a homesteader. i know he's like this because my dad and his house has always been so comforting and safe. my dad cares about me more than anything, he raised me to love nature and his house has always been a sanctuary to me. everything about wesley has to do with things i found safety and comfort in. i didnt make him like this consciously though, i was just creating, cringe free and without thinking about expressing myself, it just happened naturally and im able to reflect on it. i really think analyzing oc's like this again would help me heal. working backwards like that is a language that really clicks with me and i think would be really helpful in getting to know who i am. "this character is like this, they like these things, they speak this way - what does that say about me? what piece of me is that? where does that come from?" is a kind of structure i can really work with, but ive forgotten how to make ocs bc theyre so personal, and i dont feel like a person. its a whole loop! i think basically what im asking is how do i make oc's again? how do i express and get to know myself deeper than "i like these colors and these video games?" how do i express my personality when i feel like i dont have one? i dont really experience self hatred anymore because theres not a person to form an opinion on. everything is just blank and lonely without my silly imaginary friends for grown ups ;;

[elusive-lights]

What do you think about the drama about the head cannon that South korea is the child of America and North korea? I would like to get your opinion since your korean if thats ok

hi anon, sorry for the late reply lol i’m terrible at checking my inbox.

honestly, i don’t feel like there’s much more for me to add to the discussion that other people haven’t put more eloquently and in a lot more detail. i don’t want to beat a dead horse, so i’ll just refer you to @itstokkii’s post, @irithnova’s post, and @tianshiisdead’s post because they do a great job of breaking down why that hc is in pretty poor taste (to put it mildly).

honestly i just find this whole debacle funny and sad because i’m just like wtf is going on. western paternalism be going crazy. it gave me a good laugh but at the same time i’m in disbelief that this line of western propagandistic thinking is still around in this community to this day.

ultimately, i think that hetalia fans (especially the white/western fans) need to take a step back and re-examine their implicit biases. like yes these are just silly animanga characters, sure—but the preferential treatment and historical whitewashing afforded to certain characters (read: the us, the uk, russia, etc etc etc) speak to a greater willingness on the fandom’s part to just hand wave away all of their problematic aspects (again, putting this mildly) in favor of woobifying them.

the bottom line is this: if we want to engage with the historical/political side of hetalia, especially regarding issues as politically charged as this, we have to be equally prepared to have difficult conversations about (western) imperialism and interventionism and the damage these countries wrought on their victims. do i think the op or the person who sent that ask had malicious intentions? no. but i do think it’s indicative of cultural ignorance and how we should be wary of the ways in which that ignorance can (even unintentionally) lead to erroneous, offensive thinking.

[madocactus]

i guess i hold the opinion that nero’s portrayal is perfectly fine in fgo and that any poor impressions of her are largely bc her cameos are in either: comedy events or early-written chapters like septem. >w>;;

(and even in those events she’s still like. philosophizing like she does in extra. like i think a lot about her interactions with boudicca in the second summer event, or her 3rd interlude in fgo, or even some of the stuff in septem itself - early writing issues aside.)

i think a large part of why her portrayal might feel jarring is because... ccc isn’t localized fully in english. from what i know, ccc is like - the big transition point between her serious self and her silly self? 

she acts REALLY cutesy and goofy there so i think it was a big turning point for how type-moon wanted to handle her character. (whereas base extra was like... a proof of concept - and not everything had been set in stone. like - tamamo’s characterization wasn’t even finalized in base extra). i think extra record will probably determine how they’re gonna handle her now... 

i dunno. i am a firm believer of “nero is a woman of multitudes” and she can be goofy AND ALSO very intelligent and tragic. that’s why i find her fun to draw and write. 

i love seeing her be funny and a big positive force in fgo because she’s incredibly charismatic, and i also love it when she’s more quiet and contemplative and people realize how... sad she actually is as a character.

[utaite-mun]

if youre anti-bakugou and you are interacting with my monoma metas, i am blocking you people

im adding text to the body of the posts so if you want to get the original, youre getting a message that it was not created with the intent for usage in anti-bakugou posting (it will deter people, i know how tumblr is, but you WILL know you are going against my intent with it)

[philosophicallie]

i don't know how else to keep living in this country

[carmenized-onions]

Do the Thing! | Toilet Repair

logline; Today's itinerary: Fix the toilet, catch up with Syd, try not to cry when everyone asks you where you've been.

series history; Previous Chapter

portion; 7.1k+ (this shit got away from me man, idk what to say)

possible allergies; Negative self-talk (It's the Bear, babe, everyone's sad). I did no research on plumbing and am truly making it the fuck up-- I know for a fact I'm not using any word correctly and I simply will not be fixing it. Reader eats meat!! Specifically pork!! Your 'name' is 100% just Tony now.

pairing; Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto & Fem Reader (No pronouns, but 'handywoman' and 'Miss' are said. Plus a chest reference).

you ever start writing and you just cannot seem to find an end so you keep going forever? yeah.

“I think my name is just Tony now.”

You sip your overpriced orange juice. You really have to fucking savour it, now a days. That’s like 25 cents a sip, and Syd’s treating you to this breakfast outing, so it’s not even your own wallet on the line here.

“You lose all sense of identity, in a restaurant.” Syd straightens her back, mocking her very own mechanical movements of whenever she steps in a kitchen. “I am Chef.”

This diner isn’t more than two blocks down from The Bear. It was probably your second favourite spot in this neighbourhood. Probably still is. Sitting in the back corner booth (your favourite) with Syd is nice but distracting. She’s been updating you on everything since the catering scene and her botched credit, and you’re absorbing all of it, you swear, it’s just hard to not remember why this was your favourite booth.

Not because it’s seats are the least worn in, not because it’s got the right amount of sun through the window without blinding you, but because of the company you kept here. You’re trying to not notice your own name carved into the table. Especially since it’s not your handiwork.

You laugh at Syd’s joke on time, thank God. No awkward pause. “Yeah, you fuckin’ are. Head, right?”

She nods. “It’s cool. It’s like, vomit-worthy stressful but also…”

“You wish you were dead when you’re there, but you’d rather be dead than do anything else?”

“Yessir.” She nods again, digging further into her pancakes. “I really fucking owe you, by the way.”

“You’re paying me off through breakfast.” You wave her off. “Plus, I was available and it was like maaayybe 5 minutes of manual labour, it’s nothing.”

“Y’know what?” She hums, “I think actually, you owe me.”

“Yeah?” You grin.” Please, let me clear my debts, Syd?”

She smiles, pointing her fork at you. “You owe me the fuckin’ Beef background I’ve apparently not unlocked. Everyone was talking about you after.”

“Good things?”

“Vague things. Shit made me even more curious.”

You laugh. No shit they’d be vague. What can they say? “When my dad was running the repairmen gig, Cicero or Fak would call him in—”

“Oh fuck.” She snaps her fingers, seemingly in realization. “Your dad’s the connection!”

“The connection?”

“Fak said he had a connection for our fire safety test shit, and then said he didn’t—”

“Ah.” You nod knowingly. “Dad cut the cord on his business phone when it transferred to me, didn’t really keep people updated. Whoops.”

She nods, taking another bite of her pancakes, speaking mid-chew. “You could’ve saved our asses way faster, and I’ll-I'll never forgive you, but continue.”

Snickering, you continue, “Well, they’d call my dad in, and then my dad would call me in as his like, like his fuckin’ Sous of Repairs. And shit broke all the time at the Beef, as I’m sure you’re well aware, so I hung out around Mikey and everyone a lot.”

“Ah. N’ then…”

“He fuckin’ died.” You laugh, because there’s no way to say it smooth, so you might as well say it bad. You stretch out your arms and lean back in the booth. “I kinda took a step back, after that, so we didn’t manage to crossover ‘til now. S’ironic that you’re the one that brought me back instead of an oldie, honestly.”

She desperately wants to ask more about Mike, but she can tell now is not the time, so she just lets it lie and moves on. “You stopped being an EMT to take up the handyman shit, then?”

“Yessir.” You nod, finishing your straggling home fries. “Just kinda made sense to trade off, and I didn’t want to see the family bizz die. Do I have to occasionally pick up shifts bartending to make rent during slow months? Yes. But I also don’t watch people die anymore, so that’s a win.”

“In a way, you’re watching people die still, just slowly.”

You bite down hard to stifle any semblance of a smile or laughter, deadpanning, just to see her squirm in awkwardness for a moment. It works with flying colours, of course it does. It’s Syd. She’s still Syd. You speak at the same time.

“Cause of the alcohol?” “Cause—Cause of the alcohol.”

You both break into laughter, she throws her napkin at you. “Can’t stand you, oh my god. Let’s go clock in.”

She pays your bill before you can try to sneak your card in, which feels all too familiar, and you’re off.

Off to fix an exploded toilet.

“How the fuck do you fix an exploded toilet?”

Your hands rub over your face, lifting your safety goggles for a second. Too fucking foggy. Too fucking sweaty. Plumbing never really was your biggest strength. You’re staring at the bane of your existence, and it’s the latrine. How far we fall.

“You good, Cousin?” You hear from behind. You don’t need to turn to know it’s Richie in the doorway. It’s a fair question, you’re sitting criss-cross in front of a toilet, head in hands.

“Yeah, Cousin, I’m good.” Your words are muffled by your hands. Fully not cousins. For the record. You would argue you're not even that close, but he'd slap you upside the head. You turn to look at him over your shoulder. “Can you like, get me a pen and note pad? I need to like, strategize an attack.”

“It’s not that bad, Cousin—” “It’s that bad.” “Just tape the—” “Fuck off with the tape!”

You click your teeth, staring at the gurgling porcelain before you— At least it’s clean, it’s just fucked. “I shut the valve and it didn’t do shit. I think I have to remove it entirely so I can see what’s going on with the underground pipe.”

“Heard.” Richie and you both know that his hotfix handiwork has absolutely contributed to this penultimate mess you’re in now, but you’re both letting that go quietly for now. “You charge by hour or service?”

“Service flat rate and then after two hours it’s by hour.”

He hums, knocking his fist on the doorway a few times before walking away. “Pen and pad, Chef.”

“Not a Chef!”

“Term of Respect, Chef!”

You tap your leg incessantly, groaning like you’ve got an 80-year-old body as you stand to your feet. Richie’s grown a lot. He wears suits now. Hasn’t even poked at you for vanishing. Though you have a feeling it’s coming. If not from him, from someone.

You step out into the hall, leaned against the wall with your arms crossed as you wait for your pen and pad. And now you just have more time and a better view to take in how much has changed.

Gutted. A few walls gone. Makes sense, you told Mikey he was getting a mold problem. He never listened. Seats are new. The booths are the all-around style ones now. Ritzy. It’s too good for this neighbourhood. Is that a good thing? Yeah, right? Despite the fact that The Bear should feel out of place, you feel out of place being in it. Could you afford to eat here? Could the people who work here afford to eat here? Syd said she’s not getting paid for the next few months, so at the very least, the Head Chef can’t.

“Strange?” Tina sidles up to you on the wall, wiping her hands on her apron. Completely knocking you out of your dissociative fugue state.

“Yeah.” You nod, a little too quickly, that felt judgey, you correct, uncrossing your arms. “It’s daunting, I think; to see it all at once rather than slowly built in. Like, I know objectively this is very cool, but—”

Tina hums with understanding. “Feels gutted?”

“Was gutted.” You nod. “Doesn’t mean I don’t like it, it’s just, I dunno. Adjustment period, all that.”

“I needed a second too, but Jeff is good. Change has been good.” You nod like you know who Jeff is. “Carmen, I mean.” Your nod is now significantly more understanding. She smiles, you’re a little surprised to see Tina’s got a lot more insight than she used to. She pulled the thought of Carmen right out of your subconscious before you even detected it for yourself. “He’s good. You’ll see.”

You nod. You know the good she means is not Michelin Star Good. You already know that. He’s Mikey good. Person good. You clear your throat. “How’s Louis?”

“Good. Y’know, he’s getting to that age, getting in trouble. S’been a while since he’s had a good influence.” She nudges you. There it is. There’s the poke. The ‘where have you been?’ The ‘it’s been a year’. The— “Y’know, Chef didn’t come to the funeral neither.”

That one you didn’t expect, your head swivels to her hard. “Carmen didn’t go?”

His brother didn’t go? Oh, who the fuck are you to judge...

She nods, practically with her whole body, she looks more amused than anything. But like, mom amused. The worst amused. “You’re both the sensitive type.”

You cock your head at her, raising a brow. Smirking slightly. “Wow, Tina, I thought you changed too but you still talk your shit, eh?”

“I’m not talking shit!” She laughs, hands up in defence. “I’m just saying, you’re alike.” You hope that the laughter makes her forget the topic but it doesn’t.

“Where have you been?” She softens. She’s not asking to be mean, she’s asking out of concern. Why does that make it feel worse?

You tuck your hands in your pockets and retrain your eyes on hers, even if it feels bad. “Thought time and distance would heal all wounds.”

“Did they?”

Before you can answer, “Pen delivery, cousin!” Richie returns, triumphantly, with a pen and pad held high in the sky. He makes you jump for it. You elbow him in the gut, not hard. “Fuck off, Rich…” He keels over enough for you to grab it. “Thank you, chef.”

You turn back to Tina, who you now realize has spent half her smoke break on you. She nods to you, and then the bathroom door. “I’ll let you get back to it.” You nod in return. When she turns to walk away, you grab her shoulder.

“Tina.” She turns again. You should say something. Something vulnerable and thankful. Words of affirmation are not your thing. But maybe they could be, “If you end up with a dead plate—” Or maybe not.

She grins, and part of you is concerned by this, but she waves you off, giggling like she knows something you don’t. Already walking off. “You’re gonna be taken care of, Terry, don’t worry.”

This is a bad new nickname scheme. The fridge guy is just gonna end up being called ‘fridge guy’ if you take all his names.

It’s maybe three hours later. 11 am ish. You’ve finally put the toilet back in place, the pipes fixed underground— Which is a huge win of progress, the problem is, it’s just seemed to open the toilet’s ability to have other problems that need to be addressed. There’s a strong chance you’ll be here until you die. And even after that, this stupid toilet will still be gurgling, outliving you.

But you seriously have to eat something, so you scrub yourself clean, set your safety equipment down, and head out of the bathroom for a much-needed stretch of the legs— And to hopefully get a plate from Tina.

On your way to the kitchen, you’re stopped and walked backwards to a booth in the corner by Richie. “Hey, Miss, happy to serve you today, my name’s Richard but you can call me Richie, how’re you doin’ this fine morning?”

They’ve yet to open front of house, so you play along, taking your seat with a laugh. “I’m doing perfect, Richie, how are you?”

He nudges the air . “Ey, better now that you’re here, ah? Can I get a drink started for you?”

“Really gonna practice your set on me?”

He shrugs, still smiling. “If you don’t use it, you lose it.”

You hum, then rub your temples, the headache is setting in— Not cause of him, just been a tough morning. “Just your coldest fuckin’ glass of water, Rich.”

“Right away, Cousin.” He slips off into the kitchen.

When the door swings open again, it’s not Richie coming with your ice water, but Carmen— It’s your first time seeing him since the walk-in. When you came in this morning with Syd, it was Nat that gave you the quick briefing on the schedule and goals for today.

“Tony.” He hums, corners of his mouth just slightly upturned. The nickname has stuck. Goddamn. He sets the water down in front of you, along with a plate— Covered by a cloche—Or the silver lid thing, whatever.

“Carmy.” You only mean to mimic his tone, but then cringe. “Is Carmy fine?”

He pauses mid slide into the booth, sitting across from you. He seemed all cool and collected and is now suddenly extremely caught off guard. Already sweaty. “Y-yeah, I’m better, thank you—”

“No, I meant—” It is so difficult to hold back laughter. You deserve an Oscar.

You’re not doing great to be fair but like, still, Oscar worthy attempt.

“I meant like, like is the nickname okay?”

The horrors just keep piling on his face, and you can’t help but feel guilty. No shit he feels like he’s starting on a lower playing field here. You knew his dead brother, you know his Head Chef, your first time meeting him was at quite possibly his lowest moment and biggest mistake— Of which you had to coax him out of, and now he’s misunderstanding every innocent question you have for a inquiry into his psyche.

He clears his throat for objectively too long of a time. “Carmy is fine. Tony is fine?”

“I’m doing okay, yeah.”

Thank God, he laughs, awkward sure but objectively amused.

You nod down to the covered plate, smiling, “Fuck is this?”

He leans forward in his seat to get a hand over the lid. “I, uh. Made you a thing. As thanks or like, an— an apology.”

Ah. That’s why Tina was laughing about you getting taken care of.

He lifts the lid, and what is revealed, if you weren’t careful, would be enough to make you cry. Thankfully, the shock registers as uproarious laughter, one that Carmen cannot help but join.

“What the fuck?”

Pork brisket sandwich. Something that Mikey made for you, specifically. Because you said one time you were more of a pork fan than beef and he absolutely lost it. In a cute way, though. Said ‘Oh, I’ll make you fuckin’ pork, alright?’ You’re not sure if he won or lost the argument, because you did find it better.

“I, uh, we had some cuts left over that we weren’t gonna be able to fuckin’ use, and uh, Tina showed me this, this recipe card, last night.” He slides over the very same brisket recipe Mikey had written down. Little doodles of angry faces and Xs over pigs in the margins.

“He was so fuckin’ mad.” You snort, looking at it. “All I fuckin’ said was I had a preference!”

“In The Beef!”

“He asked!” You quickly defend, through laughter. “And it tastes fucking good. All he did was prove my fuckin’ point— And spent hours doing it. Were you here overnight for this, slowcooking?”

He shakes his head, though there’s a hesitation in it— So you’re not privy to completely believe him. He sniffs, swiping at his nose “I, uh, just came in early. Had to fix some shit anyways.”

He’s staring at the sandwich, then occasionally you, expectantly. You look at him with equal expectance.

“Well?” You start.

“Well?” He astutely adds.

You nod down at the dish. “Do the thing.”

“The thing?”

You pick up one half of the sandwich, but you’ve got no plans of eating until he satisfies this craving first.

“The thing Syd does where she explains why she’s proud of her dish and why I should care. I know it’s Mikey’s, but you clearly made changes.”

“Oh. Uh…” He was both expecting and not expecting this soap box. “So, followed the rub to a T— Well, with a salt bed, this time. Put it on brioche instead of the old shit. And I uh, added uhm—” He snaps his fingers, staring at the sandwich in your hand. “Added pickled red onion, for acid and sweet, and garlic confit. I’m—I’m happy with my spin on it.”

You whistle as a form of praise, he flushes with a glow of pride and is desperately trying to not show it. He’s proud because it’s curated, personal. Ah, he is Mikey good. You nod and take a bite, trying to control your reaction. Worst part about having Artists as friends (especially chefs): They fucking stare so hard when you’re taking in their work. And they’re over analyzing every micro expression. He’s no different.

Fuck. It’s fucking good. Is it bad that it’s better than anything Mikey ever made? Nah, that’s how he’d want it.

“Ah fuck, that sucks—” Is the first thing you say, and his face falls, “Expensive food is worth it.” Right back up. Easy to please. “It’s really good, Chef. Thank you. Did you try it yet?”

He shakes his head, so you push the plate with the other half of the sandwich— It’s brisket, anyways. You’ll be full by the end of this one. Portions generous. He looks momentarily hesitant, which is cute, but inevitably leans forward and takes the sandwich. He nods with each chew.

He hums when he finishes chewing, pointing emphatically at you, though his voice is neutral. “You don’t like something, though.”

“What?”

“What’s wrong with it?” He stares at into the cross section of his bite. “Chewy? Texture?”

“There’s nothing wrong with it.” You’re quick to deny.

He shakes his head, hand over his mouth to hide the sauce on his mouth. “M’not gonna be hurt.”

“There’s nothing wrong with the dish, Carmen.” You take another bite to prove your point. Also you’re hungry. Two things can be true.

He zones in on the emphasis immediately. “It’s the plate, isn’t it? I told Syd—”

“Your tables aren’t bolted.” You interrupt, swiftly. Mouth semi-full.

“Huh?”

You put your sandwich down and swallow, taking your time with it. “Your booth tables.”

You knock on the pristine wood with the joints of your left hand. You swivel your body to look under the table, he follows suit, meeting you there. His left leg has been violently shaking, but he’s thought you wouldn’t notice it until now.

You put a hand on his knee to stop the shaking. He bristles, slightly, but you’re not even doing it on purpose. Your focus isn’t on him. It was making the table imperceptibly shift— Which, of course, you clocked. You tap your foot to the bottom of the table leg. No screws. “They aren’t bolted down.”

You lift yourself back up, moving your hand back to yourself in tandem. He stares at it for a little longer. How you noticed that, he will never know. Repairmen are a different breed…

“I just thought it was a weird choice. Nothing wrong with it, per say. Maybe you wanna test different layouts.” You shrug, taking another bite.

“The booths aren’t bolted either.” He adds, lifting his head up above the table, finally. “I don’t— we’re not gonna fuck with the layout, I don’t think.”

“Should get Fak on that, then.”

“Fak’s big-timing us.” You cock your brow, mid chew. He explains. “He’s focusing on hosting, f'now.”

You nod, swallowing, hand in front of your mouth so you can lick the sauce off your upper lip in non-humiliated peace. “This another job for me, then?”

“If you’ll take it.”

“If your fuckin’ toilet doesn’t kill me, I will.”

“How’s that going?”

You shake your hand so-so. “Ask me in two to three hours how it’s going.”

“Heard.” He sighs, leaning back in the booth. The stress is too apparent not to ask.

“How’s the second day open going?”

“I’m not in a fuckin’ freezer, so that’s a win.” Oh-ho, he’s acknowledging it. You were very comfortable forgetting that moment for his sake. “Thanks, uh, f’ that.”

You shake your head, shrugging off the thanks. You lift your last few bites of the sandwich to him. “You’re good. You’ve gifted me brisket. You relax since?”

“Not really.” He replies bluntly, taking a deep inhale. He pulls at his face from the top down, with both hands. Oof. Bad sign. “I think I’ll be good by tomorrow. Gonna get off early, tonight.”

“You don’t seem happy about that.”

“Ask me in two t’ three days if I’m happy about it.”

Back to work and this is taking so much fucking longer than it needs to take. Why is there tape there? Fucking Richie. Fucking Fak. Fucking Mikey. Godssake. Pipes are fixed. Water pressure is fixed. What the fuck is still wrong with it? What the fuck is wrong with you? Everyone is going to hate you if you can’t fix this. You’ve been here for like 5 hours and you can’t figure out what’s fucking wrong here? You’re nothing. You’re—

The toilet does you the favour of knocking you out of your episode by spraying you in the fucking face, soaking through the top of your jumpsuit. With a groan, you unzip the upper half and tie the wet sleeves around your waist. “Son-of-a-bitch.”

Maybe you just need a change in task for a second. Also, a new t-shirt, because your tank did not survive the waterworks either. This room isn’t the thing you need right now. You slip down the hall to the kitchen. “Who needs a coffee? Or water?”

There’s a chorus of orders, all of which sound like you’ve just asked ‘who wants a gift from God?’, which, you might as well have. This is what you like about being a handyman. The relief you bring. You just need a smidge of praise to get through the rest of this job. You’ve got this.

The small, but serviceable coffee machine in very back of the kitchen calls your name, but Richie sticks his arm out, blocking you from walking past expo up front.

“Hol’ up, Cousin, you look like a fuckin’ wet dog.”

“Well, what ‘ya gonna do about it?” You retort, despite the retort not honestly making any sense, you put your hands on your hips. “Do you want a fuckin’ coffee or not?”

He rolls his eyes, falling back onto the balls of his feet before walking off. “Ey, Sug, are those shirts still in the basement—”

You’ve won for now. You scrub your hands clean before getting to work. This is good. Oooh, Marcus has fresh coffee beans (that he’s willing to share!)— This is easy. You can already fix most broken things, but a machine that actually fucking works? Baby, you can make that sing.

Plus, the bartending gigs you’ve done don’t make you a barista by any means, but they certainly don’t hurt. Oooh, Marcus has syrups! Fuck it. Steamed and frothed milk. That toilet has you on your ass, you need to go above and beyond here. Make each cup personal. You need a win in the form of admiration.

You gather a tray of coffees (and a water for Sweeps, who is too fucking sweaty for a hot drink right now, so fair), all varying in milks, sugars, syrups, intensity. “Coffee run, I hand ‘em out, don’t just take! Corner!”

Ebra, to no one’s shock, likes his coffee black— But, and he’ll tell no one this, you just know it on instinct— He likes it a little too watery. “Good.” Who are you to judge? He likes what he likes.

Tina would take hers black for simplicity, if you let her, but of course you don’t. 2 sugars, foamed milk, chocolate and cinnamon syrup. “Too good to me.” It’s too worth it, when she says it like that and slaps your cheek. Balm of the soul.

Marcus, who watched you make these, did opt to let his imagination run too wild and added one of every syrup to his own cup, wanting to experiment with you. It doesn’t taste good. You switch it for a spiced coffee when he’s not looking. He’s silently very thankful.

After handing out a few more to the new cooks, you come up to Syd. “Take this one, take this one.” Then whisper, so no one knows you are displaying supreme favouritism. “It’s the one oat milk latte I made.”

She turns to you from her station, then darts looks over her shoulder like she’s making an under the table deal before grabbing it from you. She takes a delighted sip, eyes rolling just slightly in the relief of caffeine, she nods. “Fire, Chef.” Ah. This will get you through the day alone.

It also gets you through the willpower it takes to ignore Fak running by you to steal a coffee off your tray. Out of the corner of your eye, you point to the one meant for him— As if you didn’t make it for him, c’mon…

“How’s bathroom?” Syd asks, taking another long sip.

I’m going to fucking explode, not unlike your drainage pipe. “Needed a thinking break, but I’ve made a lot of progress. How’s kitchen?”

“Made a lot of progress. Auto-piloting through this prep.” She looks down at her cutting board, cracking back to it. “Latte helps, a lot, thank you. You should join for family, if you’re still here for it. Unless you don’t want more brisket.”

Fuck. She doesn’t think you’re so slow that you’re gonna be here until family, does she? “Yeah, maybe.” You look around, three coffees still on the tray. “...Where’s Carmen?”

She grimaces. Uh oh. The tension she glossed over at breakfast is still definitely there. She nods her head to the back door. “Smoke break. Or temper tantrum. I don’t fuckin’ know. Don’t tell him I said that.” You laugh, nodding. “You think a coffee would help—” “Please.”

“Corner!” Yells Richie, returning to you. He silently flicks out a shirt for you, holding it up proudly, ‘THE BERF’ stares back at you. You give it a solid five seconds to process before you say anything.

“Collector’s item...” You nod, tone sarcastically impressed. You pivot your shoulder for him to throw it over, hands too busy.

“That’s what I fuckin’ said!” He throws it over your shoulder. “No one fuckin’ listens, these days.”

You bite back laughter and nod, handing him his coffee. Hot. Dark. Two sugars. And, to his delighted surprise, a touch of cinnamon syrup. “Oh, fuck, missed your twists, Chip.”

You wince at what was a long-forgotten nickname, and so does Richie. Funny how remembering origins can do that to you. He’d just said it so instinctively, really. “My bad—”

“Chip is good.” You interrupt, rolling your shoulders back. And it is good, really. “It’s kinda—It’s kinda comforting.” It’s nice to not forget. He nods, and you give each other the ‘we are still so fucked, eh?’ smile before lovingly bumping shoulders as he returns to expo and you head to the back alley.

Carmen’s squatting, cigarette in one hand, creating a halo of smoke around him, and his phone in the other. He snaps out of his mental fog when the door opens, slipping his phone into the pocket of his apron like he’s got a secret to hide.

You hesitate at the doorway, maybe this is not the moment. “Sorry, Chef, I just wanted to offer a coffee? If you need air alone—”

“No, no, I’m good—” He’s quick to correct, then even quicker to correct himself. “I— I’ll take a coffee, I mean. You can stay, s’fine.”

He reaches for it when you sit next to him, but you pull the tray back to hand him the correct one. “Sorry, I—I like, did a thing, for yours. I dunno how you take your coffee, so I thought I’d do it weird.”

He takes the cup, eying it curiously. “Do it weird?”

“Do it like, like a Chef. Can’t make anything fuckin’ simple. The lot of you.”

He hums, amused, staring at the cup, then looks at you expectantly. “Well?”

“Well?”

“Do the thing.”

You snort, shaking your head. “Oh, fuck off.”

“C’mon, tell me why I should care.” He teases.

“Ah, fuck.” You sniff, oh to have your own words turned on you. Looking at the coffee in his hands, “I figured you’d like strong black coffee, but like, complex. So, it’s got like, cardamom and lavender n’ maple syrup. Shout out Marcus.” He smiles. “And then, I know I did just say black coffee but I wanted the aesthetic so I spooned foamed milk on top and sprinkled on some dried lavender.” You take your own cup in hand, putting the tray down. “If you hate it, we’ll trade.”

He pays close attention to your explanation. Man, his eye contact is simultaneously so soft and so scary. He takes a sip. Let’s it sit in his mouth for a second. “Excellent, Chef.”

Oh, if Syd’s ‘Fire’ could get you through the day, Carmen’s ‘Excellent’ will get you through the week to spare. You hide the way you beam by drinking your own coffee.

“How’re you doing?” It’s far too obvious that he’s had something heavy on his head all day, but you’re not going to say the quiet part loud, yet.

He takes a long time to respond. “I, uh…” And when he does, it’s weak. “I’m alright, yeah. I’m alright.”

You nod repeatedly, digesting the huge lie. “Ask me how I’m doing.”

He squints. “…How’re you—”

“Fuckin’ terrible, Carm.” You cut him off, putting your cup down next to him, standing up. You speak emphatically, gesturing with your whole body.

“I’m at my wits, Chef. Completely out of my depth. I fix the main pipe, I fix the water pressure, I triple check the tank, I fuckin’ power cycle the valve— I’m absolutely at a loss as to why it’s still gurgling— Why it shot water straight at my tits— Close your eyes, if you care, by the way.”

With barely any warning you peel off your tank top, you’ve got a bra, it’s fine. It’s very cute that he still looks away. You slip the new shirt over your head as you speak, muffling the words.

“—I’m wearing a shirt that says Berf, and the only way I can feel any semblance of not being utterly useless is by making coffees so good everyone has to praise me for them. And now I’m telling the fucking owner, my boss for the day all this.”

He nods, slowly. There is perhaps, not a single person in his life that has ever been this forthright. Someone he hasn’t had to over-analyze or dig into to figure out what’s actually going on. It is refreshing, terrifying, and for some reason, removing your walls have completely shattered his.

“So.” You lower your head to his level where he sits. “How are you doing, Chef?”

He takes a long sip of his coffee. Stews on the question before he spills his guts, calmly. “I’m sitting outside of the restaurant I started that I own, and my brother should be here, but he’s not and— And I was locked in a fuckin’ freezer on my opening night, which was my own fuckin’ fault— And the tape is wrong and the painting is stupid and that new hire did meth so now we’re down one.” He takes a deep breath.

“And we have Heinz instead of Frenchies, and it’s fine. That’s the fucked part— It’s fine. The ship did not sink without me— It went fine. Better, maybe. My problems aren’t fuckin’ problems. I’m just making it worse for myself— everyone. And I know Syd is mad at me, and I know my— My girlfriend? Is mad at me, and I know that I’m gonna break up with her tonight because I’m not meant to be— that.” He says the last part fast, more to himself than you, really. And then he finally looks back up at you.

“And I’m telling all of this to the person who saved me from hypothermia and a fuckin’—Fuckin’ meltdown, who probably thinks— knows that I’m a psycho.”

You take a beat before nodding, sitting next to him again, arms crossed. Silent. Contemplative. “I have thoughts.”

He nods, taking a drag. “Don’t pull punches.”

“Well, to start most honestly, we must remember, I love Syd. So, I’m not gonna mince about her.”

“Heard.”

You recall everything Sydney had told you at breakfast. The recap of how she got to this point. “Syd isn’t mad at you, she’s disappointed and distrustful.”

He grimaces. “That sounds worse.”

“It is.”

“Oh.”

“But in a way you can fix.”

“How?”

“Handle shit different. Actually show up to shit and make calls. Manage your priorities by urgency— Not by favourites. If I broke my fuckin’ arm and your ‘girlfriend’ had a runny nose, who are you taking to the hospital?”

“You can’t take yourself?”

“Bitch?”

“Kidding. Heard. What else?”

“You’re not gonna tell her I said this because she would rather die than tell someone she wants something.” You lean closer to him, peeking over your shoulder to make sure no one’s secretly come from the kitchen. You knock into his knees.

He takes another drag, short, choked. “Sure.”

“You were kind of a bitch about the menu.”

“The chaos menu? She said—”

“She fucking lied. She lied when she said it was fine, Carm, it does not take a psychic to read Syd’s mind.” You interrupt, taking a sip of your coffee. “She was so excited to get to build a menu, especially with—” you, “—a partner, and then you completely ditched her. And then you just made your own! Total control freak shit! Cut her out of the fun part of being head chef completely! You get to invent masterpieces and she picks out the best cheap plate? Fuck is that?”

He nods contemplatively, poking his inner cheek. “Yeah, that, that makes sense. That’s shitty.” He turns his gaze from looking ahead to face you, hand over the bottom half of his face. “What else?”

“You’re reactive.”

“No shit.”

“How long do you think you were locked in the walk-in for?”

He swallows, thinking. “Like… an hour?”

“It had been 23 minutes.”

“Oh.”

“You catastrophize, it’s a fancy therapy word,” You cannot help but be impressed by this white man writing down the word in his phone for later. “It means, basically, when something bad happens you blow it completely out of proportion into something it isn’t. Your opening night was definitely a bummer from being in a freezer— But be honest with yourself, would you have let yourself have a good night if you weren’t in there?”

“…No.”

“No. Which is also bad. Which brings me to my key point.”

He tenses up, preparing for you to rip into him further.

“You’re doing a good job, Carmy.”

He immediately swivels back to you, almost dropping his phone. Knee knocking into yours. “Fuck off.”

“I will not.”

“You just said I was a catastrophe.”

“Fully not what I said.”

“I read between the lines.”

“Carmen.”

You take a breath, putting your arms on your knees, bent over. “The restaurant is beautiful, your cooks are talented and they’re prepared— So prepared that they can handle 23 minutes without you. That’s a good thing. You’re threaded into The Bear— The ship didn’t sink, not because you weren’t there, but because you had been. Everyone had the tools they needed to succeed, even with Heinz, a Mid painting, and torn tape. And listen—” You take one last sip of your coffee. “You need to check your ego if you think you’re the first man I’ve coaxed through a panic attack while doing a repair.”

He laughs, half-heartedly. He scratches his nose. “Heard. Yeah, thank you, Chef.”

“I don’t know shit about the meth thing though, I really couldn’t tell you.” You smile when this coaxes a better laugh out of him. You’re considering a career in stand up exclusively for him because it feels like such a reward to hear it.

“And the girl?” He asks. Amusement tinging but leaving his voice.

You click your teeth, shrugging your shoulders at him. “Based purely on your hesitation to say girlfriend, I’d say yeah, probably not ready for a relationship.” You reach your hand out to his shoulder when he flops his head down. “But, just asking, is this your first relationship?”

He thinks for too long before nodding slightly. “First one.”

“First restaurant too?”

He nods again.

“Yeah.” You pat his shoulder before letting it go, opting to hold your cooling cup. “I know you’re a Michelin star fuckin’ big deal but like, me personally, I can’t name a thing I got perfect the first time I did it.”

There’s something in his eyes, when you say that. Something wistful, nostalgic, hurt? No. Something different.

“It’s not that I didn’t do perfect—”

“You’ll do better next time.”

He wrings his hands together between his knees. “Yeah.”

“You’re gonna be fine, Carm.”

“You’re good at that.” He sniffs, head down, scratching his nose.

“At what? Self-help?”

He exhales what just barely sounds like a laugh. “Kinda. S’just, when you say it, you say it in a way where I actually believe it.”

You’re getting the fuck out of here before they open for dinner. You’re not letting anyone down tonight motherfucker. The Berf shall prevail. Maybe a win here will feel like a win for Carmen, too.

You run the sink to wash your hands, as you’ve done before here— But since fixing the pipes and the pressure… Something’s… different. You pause your scrubbing, listening closely.

…

When the sink is running, the gurgling flow of water from the toilet stops. Huh. You stop and start the faucet a few times to verify this. Yeah. You stare for a long moment before connecting the dots, then punch the sink in realization.

“Fucking Mikey!”

“What’d he do this time?”

You twist around. Ah, other sibling. Natalie. Clipboard in hand, business ready. You take a beat before remembering to smile, nodding to the sink behind you. “He connected the tank flow to the toilet and the sink with one wire.”

She tilts her head, squinting. “Why would he do that?”

“I suspect to save water?” You spin around, kneeling down to look behind the sink. “I think the idea was to have the sink not function when the toilet is flushing. But, it uh, well, did the reverse, kinda. Toilet doesn’t function when the sink isn’t running.”

“Oh.”

“So uh,” You shut the valve under the sink. “Your water bill should go down a little after this, since it won’t be running into what is an essentially a second trap pipe.”

“Oh!” Did she get what you said? No. But she doesn't need to. She heard ‘bill should go down’ and that’s really all she needed. “Thank you!”

“Not a problem. S’my job.” You stand, shutting off the valve to the toilet as well. As you kneel down to work again, you feel her gaze burning into your back. You don’t turn to face her. “You have questions.”

“Oh, ah… Am I so obvious—?”

“Yes.” You’re too quick to answer, unbolting the wires where it attaches to the toilet and the ground. You sniff with a panicked, “Ah, uh, it’s endearing.”

She’s quiet, for a moment. She doesn’t ask you what she actually wants to ask you, and you know that. “Well, I’ll need to exchange info for your invoice.”

“Ah, don’t worry ‘bout that, your brother already covered it.” You stand once more, before going to the sink to undo it’s valve, you fish through the deep pocket of your jumpsuit, pulling out a crumpled business card and handing it to her.

“But it’s good to have my info on hand, for sure. It’s ah… Kinda old.” Kinda is an understatement. Your dad’s name is still on it, scribbled out in pen and replaced with yours. The dead business line is also scribbled out in exchange for your personal cell.

“It’s uh… I usually only work for friends and family, these days, so I’ve kinda stopped trying to keep up appearances.”

She smiles at it. Thank God, she finds it charming and not sloppy. She tucks it into the clasp of her clipboard. “That’s fine, we are friends and family.”

All you can do is nod, pivoting to the sink. There's a beat of peace.

“Didn’t see you at the funeral.”

Ah. There it is. For a Bear, she sure knows how to poke one. You stutter in unscrewing the bolt.

“Would’ve been nice to meet you, then.”

You clear your throat, it's strangled. “Yeah, I think I was trying to avoid introductions, honestly. Grief comes in different ways, eh?”

“Does it?”

“Mine does.” You swallow, unbolting the wire. With it free, you can just yank it out of the wall. God, forgive your brain, but Mikey was right, she does like to fight. Too bad you don’t.

She just hums in reply, watching you pull the wire from the wall. “You’re a real lifesaver.”

Fuck. Fuck. Lifesaver? Is she fucking with you?

“That toilet sprayed me right in the face, yesterday. And you saved Carmen.” There’s an amused lilt to her voice. She’s not fucking with you. “There’s something about a handywoman that Fak cannot match.”

You can hear a faint ‘Hey!’ through the walls. You laugh through an exhale.

“Again, s’my job. I do my best. Did uh, what was it, Terry come by for the walk-in? I wasn’t looking when I was there.”

You sort through your tools, deciding caulking the holes closed is probably the best option.

“He came over basically overnight to fix it, bless him, still don’t know his name.”

You laugh, it’s a little strangled. So Carmen did stay overnight. He must’ve. You smooth out the caulk with your thumb and a palette knife. Blending it into the grout as best as you can. “Good. Good.”

You dust yourself off. Standing. “Well. That’s uh. That’s my job done. Carmen asked me about—”

“Bolting down the booths?” She nods, checking the time on her watch. There’s not enough time before lunch to do it now. Plus you don’t have the screws. “You’re free to come by in the morning tomorrow—”

“But?” You interrupt, throwing your tool bag over your shoulder.

“But?”

“You said free like you’ve got a preference, what do you prefer?”

She chuckles, slightly. There is something about you that feels familiar. “If you could come after close tonight around 12, that would be nice—”

“It’s done. I’ll be there.”

“Lifesaver. I'll give you the code.”

Fuck.

Always gotta give the reader/mc some sort of mysterious background that even you don't have all the info on. Always.

Hehehehe, again, we're slowing this burn so much. Strangers to Friends to lovers but they're both so comfortable in friends it's hard to move !!

Forewarning, btw, if you've already sunk 10k worth of words into your brain for me (thank you!! I hope you've enjoyed!!), I've never written smut before and I feel like I probably will not build up the courage to do so by the end of this series, but I could prove myself wrong, I dunno. But warning in case that's your thing!! I might blue ball you babe!!

Pretty please tell me your thoughts or I'll eat my Berf shirt. Collector's value!! Thrown away!!

Next Part

[iwannascreameurekaa]

as someone who has diagnosed autism and a slight oral fixation (that sounds bad, I'm sorry in advance do not take that the wrong way please) Im putting my two cents in for the Jason has autism and wolf traits and therefore has an oral fixation thing

Here's a couple things that I have experienced due to the oral fixation thing

-nail biting. I am a chronic nail biter and they had never been longer than the tip of my finger and usually they never get to reach that either. I've read that this is very common for ppl with oral fixations bc it's just easier to bite ur nails since they're close and you don't have to worry about having nothing to bite or whatever so that's also my head canon that Jason is a nail biter

-the weird urge to bite anything that comes near your mouth. This will happen with things hanging from the ceiling (common in my household, don't ask I don't have an answer), with people who put their fingers in my face, and with any objects that are being handed to me. If I'm comfortable around people I will make a little chomp at it but I'm usually joking although yes I have bitten random things but I haven't but anyone (at least in a while) but for Jason I think he would be biting people affectionately (esp Leo and piper since they're closest to him) and yes someone needs to get him one of those autism chew necklaces I had one it's fricking awesome

-the constant mouth movement. That sounds weird I'm sorry 😭 it's mainly clicking my tongue or running my tongue on my teeth. Really it's like the constant movement thing of cycles and shit idk how to explain it. It's like a fidget basically and ik talking could technically count as this but it's not just the movement it's the texture or friction or something seriously I'm bad with words when it comes to describing my own shit

it would be awesome if we could show more about the oral fixation thing in a non sexual manner sometimes :) not anything against that smut love that too but seriously give my boy Jason more autistic traits I love this

[n0ts0surel0ck]

Just to put my two cents in on the whole no Johnlock in Podlock situation;

There’s no one correct way to interpret the Holmes/Watson relationship. It feels very clearly queer to me because I am a queer person who is attached to these stories. Others might not interpret it that way. That doesn’t mean they’re wrong or I’m wrong. Just ya know. Two different people interpreting a character in the public domain.

Something that encouraged me is that Joel said they had no plans for any of the main three to get together. I was nervous, especially after the Gloria Scott that we were heading for John/Mariana territory (which, to be clear, I do like them together. Marianna is just so cool. I know she’s a stand in for Mrs. Hudson of course, but I think she’s also a stand in for Mary Morsten and the best portrayal of her I’ve seen so far. I wouldn’t be upset, per se about these two being together, it’s just…. Another straight romance for John isn’t really breaking new ground).

I really hope that the Podlock team sticks to their guns here. I quite like the idea of a strictly serialized set of stories, with three characters who clearly share love for each other. Because they don’t have any intentions of giving any of them a romance, it means we as an audience can fill in the blanks for ourselves. Yes, we want clear explicit queer representation. But I don’t think Sherlock & Co. has to be that, ya know?

Me personally, I will be listening to the episodes and knowing that the three of them are doing it sloppy style in between cuts. You, other nebulous listener, can cast them as sexless crime solving creatures. You, other nebulous listener, can make Johnlock canon for you. Idk man. This isn’t BBC Sherlock. I don’t feel like the Podlock team is dangling a queer love story in front of us and snatching it away at the last second.

I think Joel and the team saying explicitly here at the beginning that Johnlock isn’t the plan is actually like… really nice. They could get a lot of listeners by going “ooo maybe John and Sherlock will kiss this episode you don’t know!!” Instead, they’re giving their queer audience the respect they deserve by saying “that isn’t the textual story we’re telling, but if you want to read it’s subtext that way, they belong to us as much as they do to us.”

I just really respect that, I guess.

[fuck-customers]

I'm very uncomfortable with how much personal information we're "supposed" to wrangle out of customers and even more uncomfortable with how many customers willingly yell out that information, usually way before I even ask for it, and that information usually includes something I was not going to ask for, nor am I required to.

I cut as many corners as possible and use fake numbers and emails. But this is the information I "should" be getting from customers if I was doing my job "correctly":

-Their phone number

-Their full first and last name (I just put "x" for the names)

-Their email address (this is the least offensive one, but still iffy)

This is the bare minimum information we have to put in. I usually just put in a phone number (not always a real one) and x in place of the names and x@x.com for the email. I never, ever ask for the extra information I will list below, however I know the managers pressure customers into giving this information as well as some spineless employees:

-Their home address

-Their mailing address, if different (like a P.O. box)

-Their home + work + spouse's phone number(s)

We're also "supposed" to hit the button to sign them up for spam email ads from the store. Being an extremely private person, I never ask customers for 80% of this information. I just type in random numbers as a "phone number" and "x" for a name and "x@x.com" for a fake email.

But the part that makes me uncomfortable is how about 80% of the customers start rattling off their phone number or saying their full name and/or home address just out loud for anyone to hear when I have not asked them for any of that. So many times I'll have to take a second to take a sip of water (what am I, human?) or change the receipt paper or something quick in between transactions and some customer is rattling off all of their private information when I didn't ask them to, nor did I even call them over to my register.

Sorry idk what exactly my point is with all of this. We live in a dystopian hellscape that is trying to sell every ounce of us if it means making a single cent in profit? I'm not sure, but it is concerning that people just yell out their information in public so easily and quickly. I'm personally not going to do anything with this information, but you never know who's listening.

Posted by admin Rodney

[vsaintsin]

Writeblr Re-Intro

Yo! I'm V Saintsin. Or V or Vin or Saintsin or whatever you want to call me that sounds right on your tongue. I'm a self-proclaimed Social Media fumbler who got a late start to the party and has never quite figured it out. I hate how hipster and edgy it sounds to say "I'm bad at social media" but like I used to work with some people who actually managed the social media accounts for the business we worked for and there were rules and whatnot and damn, I think online media is just not my medium. That being said, here I am! Hah

I'm an author and general mess who's hoping to be the miracle man (somebody who makes a living writing silly little stories). I do use a pseudonym but please hear me out when I say I didn't realize how edgy it sounds, it just has some sentimental value to my personal life. I'm so sorry that I sound like I'm in my emo phase HAHA

About me -

He/Him Transguy from the American Midwest (arguably the south, depending on who you talk to, but the older people still say "Sodi-pop" and "ope").

I'm dysautonomic, bendy, permanently sleepy, and a survivor of Crappy Doctors Who Suck At Doctoring.

I like DnD, Pathfinder, Baldur's Gate 3, Cyberpunk, Dragon Age, and other things in that vein.

I do make art of my stories and characters (Tablet is currently not working so I'm in a dry spell).

My writing background is predominantly ancient, dusty RPs from as far back as the foopets days and fanfic writing on Quizilla - I am an old and wizened elder of the net.

My formal education was music performance and behavioral neuroscience, I don't really know how I got where I am.

This is not my first rodeo with tumblr but it is the first time I have anything to SAY instead of just lurking.

In the event of malfunction, you can put me outside for 5 minutes and I'll probably factory reset.

My existence as I know it hinges on a massive number of sticky notes plastered throughout my room.

What I'm lookin' for -

Idk, whatever? I'm down for most things. Did you write it? Cool, let me see. I'm not too bent on genre or anything, just fascinated by the art of storytelling.

A bit tentative with fanfiction but that's just because if it's not a fandom I'm familiar with I am rather clueless about what the hell is going on and if it's a fandom I am familiar with I HUNT DOWN THE DEEP LORE.

I like art a whole lot, including fanart. Also art advice, love seeing things from different perspectives and learning something new.

Mutuals, really, for any reason. Building better connections on here, getting to know people. I am hideously bad at this but I try.

What I write -

Science Fiction with heavy subjects that matter to me - trigger warnings on a story-by-story basis.

High Fantasy (eventually books I think?) characters and their backgrounds for DnD and Pathfinder - I have been tempted to share these to help people get ideas or just for free use?

Things that I delete because I have crippling imposter syndrome and publishing makes me nauseous (doin' it tho).

Stories that I hope will make people feel less alone or that people could relate to, stories that I wish I had when life was worse and I was reaching out for anything I could find to keep me afloat, stories that try to be critical of things that SUCK in a way that's any helpful.

Lots of curse words and cussing (that's just how people talk 'round here), dubious science, things that I hope might make you cry but in a good way though.

Character-Driven stories that revolve more around the development of the person and less around the plot itself if that makes sense.

I've put blurb things below for my primary project/series which features a grumpy, queer, 37-year old chain smoking Frenchman and his misadventures with life and love and unbridled rage. If any of that sounds cool stick around and hang out? (This part is a plug bc I did a thing and I'm proud of it) And if my books sounds interesting the first one is 99 cents on Kindle and you just need a phone and a free app to read it!

THE SECRET OF LIFE (Published) - Sci-Fi/Psychological Thriller, Bi M Lead, Lovers to Enemies, AI but the oldschool cool kind not the real world thing that's stealing our future

Carlisle-Trystan Antoinette is a mercenary on a hard road, navigating life and death itself in an infinite cycle started by powers above his understanding. He has one mission - warn The Dianican Space Station of the coming threat and put a stop to a war that would encapsulate the whole of the Sol System before it can ever begin. Unfortunately for Carlisle, reality is a tenuous thing, made up only by our understanding of it. At least, according to his Psychiatrist, who tells him that there is no war, that he was never a mercenary, and that what Carlisle is experiencing is a severe but manageable psychotic break. Stripped of his combat enhancements, his bio monitor, and everything he's every known, Carlisle has a decision to make. Does he give in to the thoughts and memories, so real that he can almost taste them, or does he live a life of comfort and ease, returning to a husband and daughter that he left behind?

TWs: Domestic and War Violence, suicide, rape, medical trauma, grief, drug use

THE SILENCE OF ANGELS (Due 2024, TSoL 2) - Betrayal and Rage, Learning how to love again slow-burn romantic subplot, Learning how to Dad, A general inability for any one thing to just go right

(Quick Rough Blurb that offers no spoilers for TSoL) Making connections isn't easy for somebody who's accustomed to burning bridges. Isolation has always been Carlisle's mantra for surviving his life. Playing a role comes second nature, pretending to be the man that everyone else wants to see in him. When an old friend is murdered Carlisle finds himself as the primary suspect with all evidence pointing to him so clearly that even he calls to question what he is capable of. Unwilling to believe that he could commit such a heinous crime, Carlisle sets off to find the truth of his friend's death - was Carlisle framed or does he truly have the capacity to bring such harm upon those he loves? Old and new bonds will be tested, faith broken, and the future of everyone called into question as lines are drawn and sides are picked.

TWs: Violence, mentions of SA, graphic character death, more grief, more death

I don't know what else to say... Later!

[poppyplate]

minor season 5 spoilers for lmk!!!

(some sketches + my thoughts on the new season :0)

this season was so good!! i'm gonna put my long rant about my thoughts below, just cause i have a lot of things i wanna talk about :3

animation: ik the animation change was jarring for some people and i did almost cry about flying bark leaving the show when the news first dropped, but i honestly think wildbrain did a great job and the animation is still super cute and fun. it's definitely different and you can tell, but they still do all the silly animation things that flying bark did and this season honestly had some of my favourite humor (visual and otherwise).

i'll definitely miss the old animation, fully hand drawn 2D animation is becoming harder to come by in cartoons now so it's sad to see this show lose one of the most exciting aspects of it, but i'm looking forward to seeing how wildbrain does in the following season(s?). i'm honestly just glad we're getting more monkie kid content.

plot: i did enjoy the plot they set up. this season did feel different pacing wise? if that makes sense. not that it's necessarily bad i just noticed it felt a bit different. i'm really excited to see more about this whole chaos thing.

ik li jing wasn't necessarily a villain, but he was an antagonist for a bit so i'm adding my two cents about him and nezha. i didn't love what they did with their story arc, but ik there's only so much that can be done in a 10 episode season where each episode is only 10 minutes long. i think their arc would've just benefited from more time :(

villain(s): i think the nine headed demon is such an interesting character (even though he did confuse me a bit) so i hope we get to see more of him. probably my favourite big bad so far personality-wise.

main characters: i'm glad sun wukong had more screentime this season!! he always either isn't around or gets trapped, so it's nice that he was present again.

i definitely felt this season focused a lot more on the monkie trio, which was bound to happen, but i like them so i was fine with it. idk how much of a redemption arc macaque is trying to have, but i kind of hope it's not a standard redemption arc. not that i didn't enjoy macaque's character this or any other season, i do like him most of the time. i just personally hope they keep him as more of a neutral figure even if he does stick around with the group.

i don't have much to say on mk that hasn't already been said. i love the guy and i hope he gets to be happy again soon T^T

side characters? ig: i thought mei and red son's episode was cute. i love dragonfruit interactions a lot, but i do hope red son gets some more screentime next season cause i miss him </3

i am happy sandy got some more screentime though, his episode with mk was cute. also tang was so real this season, he's just like me fr (i hate manual labor).

other notes and whatnot: this season felt shorter somehow, even though it wasn't and i'm not sure if we'll be getting a special like we always do or if they're just going to move on to the next season. either way, i'm excited to see where it goes from here.

although i wasn't in love with the ending of this season, it just felt a tad rushed and i definitely think we would've benefited from a few special episodes again.

i'd give this season a solid 8/10. i would love to go through all the episodes and share my thoughts on them, but i'm just gonna share my ranking of the episodes.

(i feel pretty even with 1-2 and 3-5)

1. collar the king

2. temple of the goddess

3. the cage

4. sacrifice

5. strings that bind

6. into the pagoda

7. claim to flame

8. harbinger

9. the storm within

10. festival fugitives

[whattimeisitfic]

So I was fucking around with an incorrect quote generator and these are some of the funny prompts I got for Luci and his brothers. Most of them are just Raphael and Gabriel having the pettiest sibling rivalry in existence.

—

Pre-Fall days. Lucifer is still getting the hang of proper utility usage…

Gabriel: Hi could I ask how exactly does one accidentally set a lemon on fire?

Lucifer: Microwave for 40 minutes

Michael: WHY WERE YOU MICROWAVING A LEMON?!

Lucifer: I read boiling lemons helps cover up bad smells and I wanted to cover up the scent of burnt oranges, but I didn’t on any pots…

Raphael: Did you burn an orange too? HOW?!

Lucifer: Microwave for 40 minutes.

—

Gabriel addressing the Council. Probably on some really memorable, meaningful event for him or something.

Gabriel: I just wanted to say that over the years, I have come to regard you as… people I met.

—

Does this need context? Could happen literally any time.

Gabriel: You look mentally ill.

Lucifer: I am. Let’s go.

—

Once again, could realistically happen any time, though more likely in their younger years.

Gabriel: Bet you can’t eat 15 crayons

Raphael: Bet you I can!

Michael: *sips coffee, checks to make sure 911 is still on speed dial and goes back to reading the paper*

—

These two I stg—

Raphael: Can I have some water?

Gabriel: *starts chugging their water bottle*

Gabriel: *chokes from drinking too fast*

Gabriel: *spills water all over themselves*

Gabriel, coughing: I don’t have any water.

—

My man is absolutely clueless in the most adorable way possible. We love him for it tho. Was probably Rals texting him.

Lucifer: Gabriel, what does IDK, ILY, and TTYL mean?

Gabriel: I don’t know, I love you, talk to you later.

Lucifer: Alright, I love you too, I’ll ask Michael

Gabriel: Wait, Lucifer, no—

—

You can’t tell me Lucifer wasn’t a chaotic little shit pre-Fall.

Raphael: I have a question.

Michael: Shoot.

Raphael: Is the S or C in scent silent?

Gabriel: Fuck you, I’m going to be thinking about this all day.

Michael: Okay well, cent is pronounced the same way as scent so I’m gonna say the S is silent

Raphael: Okay, but sent is also spelled the same way

Gabriel: Google says that the C was added in the late seventeenth century, so I guess the S is silent.

Lucifer: Plot twist, both the S and the C are silent and the E actually makes the sss sound

Gabriel: Lucifer is not allowed to talk anymore

—

Once again, plausible any time at present.

Michael: You’e ignoring all your problems.

Lucifer: I know.

Michael: You also know it’s an unhealthy coping mechanism?

Lucifer: I’m ignoring that fact as well

Michael:

—

Lucifer can do no wrong.

Michael: WHOEVER CAUSED THIS MESS IS GOING TO-

Lucifer: it was me

Michael: …Is going to be forgiven because very one deserves a second chance.

—

He lasted all of five seconds, and the he had to sass.

Raphael: Oh, hey, I didn’t see you come in! You should have come by and said hello!

Gabriel: Oh! Yeah, I uh…

Gabriel: Didn’t want to bother you.

Gabriel: Or talk to or listen to or be around you.

—

Back when Lucifer wasn’t recovering from near death, and actually didn’t sleep.

Raphael: Truth or dare?

Lucifer: Truth.

Raphael: How many hours have you slept this week?

Lucifer:

Lucifer: Dare.

Raphael: Go to sleep.

Lucifer: I don’t like this game

—

They had an argument. Typical occurrence.

Michael: You have to apologize to Gabriel!

Raphael: Fine!

Raphael: Unfuck you or whatever!

—

I think this about sums it up.

Raphael: Are you alright?

Lucifer: Short answer or long answer?

Raphael: Short?

Lucifer: No.

Raphael: Long?

Lucifer: Nooooooo

—

I’ll say it again: these two—

Raphael: Guys, I have a question.

Gabriel: kys <3

Raphael: I love you too.

Michael: Ah. Yes. Siblings.

—

If Lucifer ever went out drinking w/ his siblings (u know, to the places that actually serve shit to get him wasted)

Lucifer, clearly drunk: Gabriel, hit me another drink… wooOO HOOoo…

Gabriel: I think you need a therapist and not a bottle

Lucifer: I think yooOOoouu need to shuUT YOUR MOUTH!

—

Last one. You can’t tell me Raphael doesn’t get weird obsessions w/ shows like this and convinces himself he’s gonna somehow end up in a similar situation. Michael is concerned

Raphael: When I get murdered, can you make sure I become an unsolved case?

Michael: wHat?

Raphael: I want to be on Buzzfeed Unsolved

Michael: Can we go back to the part when you said “when I get murdered”?

—

Alright that’s all I got for now ducklings! I just thought it was kind of funny.

If you’re reading this with no context but are interested, consider checking out my Hazbin Hotel Lucifer-centric fic on AO3 What Time Is It. I try to update daily and do my best to answer all comments ;)

[14th-century-verona-queer]

GUYS

GUYS YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND

I USED TO LOVE VOLTRON WHEN I WAS YOUNGER LIKE I LOOOOOOOOVED THAT SHOW

OBVS ITS BEEN A LARGE NUMBER OF YEARS (WILL NOT BE SPECIFYING HOW LONG IN ODER NOT TO DATE MYSELF TYVM) AND I HAVENT HEARD ANY OF THE CHARACTER’S VOICES IN A HELLA LONG TIME

I TOOK A LITTLE GANDER ON PINTREST CAUSE I WANTED TO SEE WHAT LANCE SOUNDED LIKE TO SEE IF IT WAS THE SAME AS I REMEMBERED AND

BITCH WHAT THE ACTUAL FRESHLY-SQUEEZED BEETS FUCK??

I DID NOT IMAGINE THIS MAN TO HAVE THIS SLIGHTLY DEEP VOICE THAT IS LITERALLY EQUIVALENT TO KEITHS (except Keith has more gravel to his voice) I THOUGHT THIS MAN SOUNDED LIKE FUCKING BEN SCHWARTZ.

I AM SO DISRTUBED RN

HAVE I BEEN LYING TO MYSELF ALL THESE YEARS?

DOES CORAN HAVE AN AUSTRALIAN ACCENT OR IS THAT ANOTHER THING MY STUPID MEMORY MADE UP??????

WHAT THE HELL GUYS??????

ON A SIDE NOTE IF THERES EVER A REBOOT OF VOLTRON (AND AN ACTUAL GOOD ONE WITH BUDGET PLEASE) I HAVE A SHORT LIST OF REQUESTS

Make Lance be voiced by Ben Schwartz cause no way this mans has a (semi-deep) ish voice??

Klance is cannon

keep the rest of the cast from voltron EXCEPT FOR LANCE

DO NOT BY ANY MEANS KILL ALLURA. YOU WANT LANCE TO HAVE ALTEA CHEEK MARKS? MAKE IT HAPPEN BY THEIR CLOSE BOND IDFK

LANCE DOES NOT END UP AS A FUCKING FARMER WTF?

The whole gang wear dresses for AT LEAST once fight

we figure out why tf allura’s mom was always wearing pink like who was she mourning??

she-ra and the princesses of power reference

black paladin lance cause YOU CANNOT TELL ME HE ISNT PERFECT FOR THE JOB. SHIRO CAN BE MENTORING ON TEH SIDELINES OR SOME SHIT OR MAYBE THEY FIND A KICKASS SHIP THAT IS A GOOD ASSET IDK??

Cursing, cursing, CURSING. My girl pidge needs to say fuck at least once an episode. Make it at least pg-13 or something bro.

Yup thats it! (Will probably continue to update as I spontaneously gain new ideas)

Fr haven’t watched the show in a long time so i dont even remember the plot, so go wild! Make them go on new adventures! Do fun shit! Idk! I just can’t keep living off of fanart knowing that it will never become a reality!

(Lowkey if anyone knows how to pitch ideas to people who will make this shit happen pls lmk cause i need cannon klance like i need air to breathe. But just be forewarned i have like 50 cents to my name)

[koukouture]

Ok no because hear me out-

When Emet Selch/Solus first appears near the end of Stormblood his conversations with Varis make me think a little y'know. Idk if I hallucinated this, but I think he says something along the lines of "you were always so emotional" to Varis. Or like, he insinuates that Varis has always had little control over his emotions.

(I haven't gotten to shadowbringers yet plz do not spoil too much. also apologies in advanced if I am wrong abt Solus/Emet Selch)

Solus was undoubtedly a horrible father and grandfather- and Varis is too- but Varis was sensitive as a child. Like he's genuinely just a guy- according to the wiki, like he denounced a massacre and disbanded the legion responsible. Also, his dad died and that kind of left Solus to be his paternal figure which was definitely super fucked up. Given how much Solus belittles him even in death and when he's the emperor- he was no better in life.

And idk where I saw this, but I think he actually genuinely loved his late wife? Y'know, Zenos' mom who died in childbirth or something? And listen, he's only twenty years older than Zenos- he was a young father. Can you fucking imagine that? Being raised by your asshole grand daddy, and then your loving wife fucking dies and leaves you with an entire new human being at like twenty.

My point is that Varis isn't a monster like the rest of the imperial family. No I'm not defending him, but he somehow just turned out pretty normal compared to the other two memebers of the royal family we know of. He has sympathy, he has morals, he has (or at least, used to have) a line he will not cross. Yeah he turned out a militaristic tyrant, but he was a normal fucking guy at one point and we definitely see that it peeks through a bit. Like I kinda remember he at least tries to be diplomatic when he meets with the alliance and the scions, and he still seems hurt by Solus' words. Idk man I just- he's not completely gone. He has some humanity left in him and he isn't as unapologetic as Zenos or Solus/Emet Selch.

And listen, I'm not defending his parenting style either- but I do understand why he just had no desire to be present in Zenos' life. After having Solus as his parental figure for most of his life, I think he has a fucked up idea of parenthood.

See, I think he loves Zenos somewhere deep down but yk generational trauma and maybe he's even a little envious of what Zenos is. Zenos is this paragon of mortal strength; a prodigy. Varis was no doubt great when he was younger as well, but Zenos is just so strong, unfeeling, and self assured- things Varis was expected to be when he was younger. He wasn't any of that though because we know (or I know because I hallucinated it) that he was emotional when he was younger. Also, Varis was just kinda neglectful towards Zenos, no? He never outright abused him or gave Zenos reason (for most of his life at least) to believe that Varis hated him. Idc if it's not canon, to me, I don't think he hates Zenos. Hates what Zenos had become maybe, but he seemed genuinely distraught or at least shocked when Elidibus was in Zenos' body. Like he took offense to it so you cannot tell me he doesn't at least care a bit.

Idk man. I don't even think I was able to get my point across that well?? I have lotsa thoughts bc I'm writing a little thing. Once again, not defending Varis, but he's very interesting to me in this regard because generational trauma is a song and dance any ethnic child is familiar with so I just had to share my two cents.

[dollypopup]

So, I wasn't gonna post anything about this, honestly, but because I was directly asked, here's my 2 cents!

First, I want to thank you for saying you trust me with this! I'm also on the ace-spectrum, and I'm a queer, bisexual woman, so I do have a lot of empathy with you and everyone else who was down for queer rep.

(Also, I do not have Anon turned on for my asks. I absolutely respect your privacy, but I've been harassed before, and if people want to come at me, they can do it with their whole chest. Similarly, if people want to come TO me, I'd love to be friends!) I want to start off with the fact that whilst I understand that you believe the article, I don't. Call it the skeptic in me, or my media literacy classes during my grad program or denial or what have you, but we live in a huge era of misinformation. A tabloid is not likely to be any kind of reliable source, and a random reddit user even less so. It's like making a balloon full of pudding and having a clown say it's helium. We're not going to know until the needle pops it. Surely, no one would ever lie on the internet.

That being said, as much as I yearned and wanted for Demi Colin to be confirmed, it's not set in stone, and so it couldn't have been taken away from us. Honestly, even being ace-spec, a lot of the HC of Demi!Colin started putting a bad taste in my mouth when I realized that a lot of this predominately cishet fandomw as doing it as a means of keeping Colin 'pure' for Penelope, and that struck me as incredibly acephobic. Sure, they were HCing him as one of us. . .but not because it fit with his character or provided a rich and interesting arc for him to explore, but more so that his identity was an extension of their hopes and wants for Penelope. It wasn't for him as a character, but for him as a prize. And that made me so very sad, so my dream of Demi!Colin died when I saw that happening so frequently. Us Demi and Ace folks deserved better than that, and we continue to.

Either way, I think you are absolutely allowed to feel your disappointment! This is a frustration safe zone! There was a lot of potential this season, especially for Colin, that I feel has been dropped. But even IF that article contains some truth (big, heavy IF). . .idk, I see it through the lens that lot of us Demi folks have had sex. Even no strings attached sex. I know I have. Was I disassociated from it for a lot of the time? Yeah. Was it satisfying? No. But did it happen? It did. I chose to take part in it, and they were experiences that helped me grow. And I am no less Demi for it! IF this article is true, instead of us freaking. . .I feel like it could tell us a lot about Colin's character.

He is a man who has had, largely, no good role models in his life. Not in this regard. Who does he have to guide him? Anthony? Literally said he should have taken Colin to brothels. Benedict? Hell, he had a threesome himself. Why wouldn't Colin be out here thinking 'This is what Men do, this is what my brothers do, why not?' Colin is young. He's 23 still trying to find himself. And the entire idea of 'oh, he's a nerd! no way he's had threesomes' lol, like nerds aren't kinky? Come on, I'm a nerd and I've done way more than people would assume I have. He was traveling for months, and I think this really isn't as huge a deal as we're making it out to be. I ship Polin exclusively, and I love the idea of them having their firsts together, but I'm also not angry otherwise. In my mind, he's still demi. Just like he'll always be ND, even if it isn't confirmed.

Sidenote, o want to touch on something that is somewhat unrelated to your post, but something I'm seeing a lot is the whole 'it's dehumanizing for him to watch two women!' or 'it's lesbian fetishization!'

from the very bottom of my heart, as a gay woman, people saying that can eat me. These are the same people who didn't care about any of our representation, before. They didn't care about having lesbian characters, didn't bring them up. Now that it affects their (largely) het pairing, and specifically Colin as a perfect prize in a pairing he has largely been denied a narrative within, we're talking pieces and pawns for their discontent? No, I refuse. There are legitimate criticisms that can and should take place about Bridgerton's lack of care toward wlw, and especially that our only representation may actually just be a lesbian performance for the sake of a threesome, but this is not a criticism on COLIN. It is a criticism on the PRODUCTION. Because if we had queer women in the series before, it wouldn't be an issue. However, I refuse to have my sexuality used as a 'ewwww gross! look what they're doing! isn't that soooo wrong?' gotcha moment by people who just don't like his character. If we're gonna have a conversation about it, we should have a conversation about it based purely on our actual desire to protect and care for queer women. Not using us as stepping stone soap boxes to prop up an argument.

Queer people are really done dirty in the Polin fandom, and this is proof of it. Demi!Colin is important to me, and he continues living on in my heart and my fics, and even if it turns out that he's fucked up and down the Amalfi coastline and watched live porn, that won't make him less demi to me, personally. Ace spec people's experience with sex is all unique, and honestly, watching seems very in line with Colin's character. I don't agree with peeps who call it weird or gross that he watches porn.

This is an incredibly puritanical fandom, and I find it more and more evident as I spend time in it. The entire 'suffering' 'penance' 'deserve her' 'grovel' train was already very clear in that regard, and then people only wanting Colin to be a virgin so he remained 'pure' and 'untarnished' (legit takes I had to read with my own eyeballs) for Penelope was so Catholic on main that it made me feel insane.

Us ace-spec peeps deserve to be and should have the space to be upset at any developments taking place! We also deserve to be free from people doing pseudo pearl clutching and hiding behind feminist and queer-friendly language to disguise that they're just upset that Colin is getting anything at all in his storyline that centers around him and his own discovery outside of Penelope. Even if he isn't a virgin, he can absolutely still be Demi, Anon! And I hope that brings you some comfort.

Am I a fan of the threesomes foursomes moresomes and live porn speculation? No, not particularly. Am I livid furious throwing up about it? Also no. This series has betrayed me and disappointed me in so many ways, but so has the fandom. I guess I'm accustomed to it, now. But I want to reiterate that we should not believe everything that is posted. Some rando on a reddit forum confirming a tabloid article does not investigative journalism and peer review and confirmed sources make.

But in the event that the season does disappoint and gives us some baffling storylines: this is where fanfic can be such a comfort. It's how a story lives on in perpetuity. I've written trans!Colin and queer!Colin and demi!Colin and virgin!Colin and bdsm!Colin and all sorts! We can give we everything we want. It's our playground and it's meant to be fun.

But over my dead body will I believe a Sun UK article lol

[destinyc1020]

girl but what did you think about keke and zendaya? What do you think happened between them. There is a coldness there that I am getting from keke but idk why. Keke is friends with everyone esp everyone black who started on Disney and shit. It’s weird. What do you think

Girl, I'm almost afraid to even say anything on here regarding this, because I kind of feel like all it's going to do is just spark a heated Keke vs. Zendaya debate in my inbox, so that's why I've been kind of avoiding answering asks about this topic. 🙃 😬 👀

But, what I will say is that my opinion still remains. While I do think that Keke is amazing (always loved her) and is super successful, I just don't think she's on the Zendaya level of fame and success.... YET.

I mean, Zendaya is a 2x Emmy winner, has tons of high-end brand deals, trends on Twitter just for breathing, has been an EP since her teens, models, works with super famous actors and directors, has walked the red carpet at the Oscars several times, and is on a one-name fame basis.

I meannnnn.... I just think she's more famous and successful. Now, some people will argue that fame level doesn't always equal "success", and that's true, but the two usually go hand in hand.

With that said, I don't feel the need to have to compare these two lovely women at all. 🥰 They are both beautiful, amazing, and successful. Keke is an author, has been a TV host, had her own talk show, has worked with great actors over the years, and is very recognizable on her own right. I think people sleep on Keke because she is usually doing more comedic stuff, but when she speaks, you can tell that she's VERY articulate, smart, and explains herself well.

I can def understand her frustration with being compared to Zendaya though, and being put in a box and made part of an argument that she doesn't think she fits into. I totally understand how frustrating that can be, and I don't think she's wrong in feeling that way at all. Your feelings are your feelings.

With that said, I don't think we can just turn a blind eye and pretend that colorism (and, by extention, racism!) doesn't play a HUGE role in Hollywood. 👀

I think Keke is downplaying it because when the tweet came out, it was really bad timing (I'll admit), and because it makes her out to be a victim (or less-than) which is NOT a title she wants to wear, and not something she sees herself as. I totally understand that 100%. 💯

At the same time though, I don't think the fan who made that tweet realized just how offensive they came across. If anything, I think they were actually trying to give Keke a compliment in a way. They were basically saying that based on the starting careers of BOTH actresses, and the obvious talent of BOTH of these women, Keke really should have had a better trajectory career-wise in Hollywood overall. I actually agree with that.

What I think Zendaya excels at however, is that while she has biracial privilege (which, she already acknowledges), she's ALSO just played the Hollywood game much better (imo), and has been VERY strategic in her career choices.....and I kind of feel like people don't realize just how important that is in the long run. There are plenty of UNtalented people out here getting really famous and getting roles simply because they know how to play the game better. 🤷🏾‍♀️

Anyway, those are my personal two cents on the issue.

I think Keke explained herself beautifully, and I like both actresses and love to see them win. 🥰❤️

NOTE: I will NOT answer any rude or hateful asks about this topic in my inbox, so if you have something constructive to add to this conversation, please do so in a respectful way, and I will gladly answer you. 😊🙏🏾