#its one of those topics where every new thing you learn you think this most be the bottom of the pit but no it always gets worse

[gatalentan]

god not to be parasocial on main, but I'm so proud of leah remini sueing scientology. it's such a huge move but with the connections she has, the level of documentation of their harassment that other ex-scientologists could only dream of (evidence from the heads of MULTIPLE broadcast organisations? from conan o'brien and anderson cooper??), and knowledge she has from other people who have attempted and failed, I don't know if anyone else could possibly be in a better position than her to get this through the courts. I also suspect that the way the danny masterson case went down was a real tipping point because it exposed so many of their tactics in an exceptional case that had TONS - perhaps an unprecedented amount? - of money and manpower thrown at it by the CoS, allowing them to be better prepared than ever before. leah's in a very real sense the public face of ex-CoS members so that carries some genuine weight. i'm wondering if she's using herself as a wedge to, win or lose, set a precedent case for others less fortunately positioned than she is to be able to follow (specifically I'm wondering if this may have been accelerated/spurred by mike rinder's cancer diagnosis) because that seems to track with most of her advocacy regarding the CoS. I'm really interested to see how this goes down and hope that the anti-CoS community puts their combined weight behind it. it's not even a david vs goliath situation, this goliath has that doohickey that was used to assassinate shinzo abe. she's crazy brave, but equally, at this stage, what can they do to her that they haven't already done? (don't answer that)

[sarahghetti]

moving day; m.k.

pairing: marc spector x reader, steven grant x reader, jake lockley x reader

summary: how marc and steven learn to live together, how you come to live with them, and how jake finally lets himself live at all.

warnings: basically a BIG character study into our boys, fluff, hurt and comfort, angst, insecurity, mentions of marc's childhood, mentions of violence, suggestive content but nothing explicit.

word count: 9.9k

notes: this one got away from me and might also be the best thing I've ever written (i'm very proud of it 😭). part of the @MOONKNIGHT-EVENTS bingo! prompt: “'is that my shirt?'”

MOON KNIGHT MASTERLIST | ALL MASTERLISTS

Even though it was (and still is) under Marc’s name, the flat was Steven’s first. Marc just helped set it up a little.

He rented out the first decent unit he found in the city and kept every piece of mismatched furniture the previous tenant left behind. The essentials had to be filled in himself—a bed, couch, and desk. A table to go with that rickety stool to eat meals on, a coat rack near the doorway. The only belongings of his own that Marc left behind were his old Egyptology texts, unceremoniously shoved into a corner of one of the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves that he hoped Steven would like.

(The fish was unexpected, though. Steven already had everything he would need, and it was Marc’s mistake to be scrolling through Facebook Marketplace on one of his last days before he handed it all over to his alter. A complete aquarium set was being offered for next to nothing; attached: a photo of the original poster’s late goldfish. Backlit from the tank light, blank faced and innocent.

He just couldn’t move on.)

But it was Steven who then took Marc’s—their—card and ran with it. Every free surface was prime real estate for another journal, another tomb. The used bookstores of London never stood a chance; it was almost impressive to watch him scour the shelves for the most esoteric topics and still come out with his arms full of what he was looking for. Marc would wake up in the body to find Steven’s collection a little bigger than before and ghost his fingers over the spines during those brief moments of respite before having to put on the suit.

It didn’t stop at the books. Of course, it didn’t. Steven’s always had an affinity for oddities. Marc wasn’t the least bit surprised to see the new paper lantern hung over the living room, or the pumpkin-esque footstool that was coloured as though it was plucked off the vine just a tad too early.

The pieces were quaint at best. If there were any psychological meaning as to why his alter gravitated towards dingy, threadbare upholstery instead of an IKEA like a normal person, it was beyond Marc.

However, he couldn’t not admit that it all kind of worked once put together; the clashing mix of materials and colours sort of became its own style when combined under the wooden rafters. Even when the books started overfilling the storage capacity and ended up in piles on the floor—it only added to the charm.

Marc was sure to erase every trace of his presence around the flat to avoid interfering with Steven’s life, but that didn’t stop the sense of longing to return to their—Steven’s—home during missions.

It was still a mess. A mess where everything has its place, yes, but there was no way that Steven could trip over several odds-and-ends in one day and claim that he was any degree of neat or tidy. Marc silently griped to himself about it all the time, but he’d sooner eat that dusty-ass rug Steven got for free before he saw anything get thrown away.

(It was like this back when they were kids, too. Marc’s childhood bedroom in Chicago—a room he never finds himself thinking about outside of his nightmares—was filled with joy. Medals from peewee baseball. Posters from his favourite movies, carefully smoothened out and taped to the walls by his dad. Drawings by him and Randall piled at the corner of his desk.

Right after the—the accident, all his stuff remained, immortalized in place. As if keeping everything the same would somehow also make Marc’s life the same as it was before, and Randall would come bursting through his door at any moment to ask him to come play. It was an overarching belief in their household. Even on her worst days, his mother’s anger never touched their home. Only him.

But then things began to change. His old action figures, collecting dust, would be strewn about the floor, waiting for someone to continue the battle. A collection of particularly smooth rocks began appearing on his windowsill despite the fact that he hadn’t gone outside in days. He’d wake up to grass-stained jeans and a scraped knee which Marc didn’t know how he got, for once.

Steven has always been like a crow, bringing all these little gifts for Marc to enjoy—these signs of life—even when he wasn’t aware of it.)

-

Coming back from Cairo feels like it should’ve been a bigger deal than it was, but after the dust settled on Harrow and Layla decided to return stateside alone—a decision that seemed a long time coming, if Steven’s being honest—there was nothing else to do other than to go home.

They have one blissful, uninterrupted day of sleep. Steven was the one to wake up sixteen hours later, mouth dry, and instinctively panicked at the thought of losing days again before realizing that Marc was also (and still is) out cold.

When he finally woke up a few hours later, half-asleep even in the reflection of the mirror, Steven couldn’t help himself from asking, “What now, Marc?”

Because Marc was the original. Marc was the one with a real life and legal status. He might never want to walk the streets of Chicago again, but that didn’t change the fact that he only came overseas to run away. Everything around them was a temporary measure.

Marc straightens. “I won’t bother you too much, I promise.”

“You still have your own life,” Steven reminds him.

“Still—”

“Oh, don’t start—”

At least they agreed on one thing: they were going to stay in London.

Marc cleans out his storage unit, bringing home an array of bins and duffel bags and that shitty fold-up cot that he still refuses to toss. Steven immediately got him his own dresser when Marc tried to insist that he ‘didn’t have much’; that was a blaring warning that he was about to do something stupid and sacrificial, and Steven had to put his foot down before a nearby charity got a donation of some well-loved button-downs.

It’s almost funny, how predicable Marc was when unpacking. Steven watched as he pushed all their new furniture against the walls then methodically unpacked bin by bin, stacking the empties inside one another like Russian dolls. Like Steven, everything he owned had a place, even after months spent stored away. Marc was just a lot more neat about it.

“Move my stuff if you want,” Steven pipes up. Marc doesn’t react, only continuing to store his notebooks on top of a filing cabinet. “Really, I’ve already read everything on that middle shelf there—we can put them somewhere else.”

Marc glances around the bookshelves. “Aren’t these alphabetized?”

“Well, mostly, but give me an hour or two and I’ll free up some space.”

It’s like a puzzle, and Steven’s always liked puzzles. Marc’s gone quiet in their head, out of excuses as to why he can just shove all his belongings out-of-sight so that Steven wouldn’t have to go through the effort. Now, if he would just believe Steven, then he’d know that reorganizing his books was hardly any effort at all.

And even if it was—he’s been meaning to do this for a while. An alphabetized collection is great until he gets a new book, because then everything has to be shifted over, and—well. There’s a reason why there were so many books languishing on the floor.

They pass off the body like that for the rest of the day, moving things around in the flat in order to accommodate Marc. It looks no less hectic in the end, despite Marc’s best efforts to tidy up a little, but it also doesn’t look any worse, which Steven sees as a win.

There are still so many things they need to talk about. Scheduling, routines, the fact that they’re currently both out of a job—either one would be lying if they said that this new life didn’t make them a bit nervous. But when Marc finally flops down onto their bed, a movement as easy as breathing, the pieces begin to settle into place. The last of his bins have been put away. His jacket hangs beside Steven’s as if it’s always been there.

In the headspace, Steven beams. Whatever comes, however hard—they’ll face it together.

.

.

.

Somehow, Steven wakes up one day and feels great.

There are a few minutes more until his alarm goes off, but he turns it off early. The usual grogginess that accompanies him this early is completely absent, and he rolls up to a seated position without a single mental or physical protest. He feels so good, in fact, that he even considers skipping his morning cup of tea.

(He doesn’t, of course. They quickly figured out—well, Steven did, Marc already knew—that they differed in their caffeinated beverages of choice. Steven, a strong cup of Yorkshire Gold with a healthy splash of milk and a teaspoon or two of sugar. Marc, a simple drip coffee, black, made from the most generic-looking brand of medium roast beans.

Not to say that he wishes to be separate from Marc or anything of the sort, but Steven imagines his feelings to be like that of a sibling who was always dressed in matching clothes as his brother. Marc might’ve graced Steven with an interest in Egyptology from his mercenary work and Gus from his—their?—brother’s drawing a lifetime ago, but as far as they know, his preference for tea was just a quirk.

Steven likes having something just for him.)

Marc had the body last night—he must’ve gone to bed early. Must’ve drank camomile tea and avoided blue light the entire time he was fronting because Steven could run a marathon like this and still go into work afterwards. He’s about to ask Marc for his secret when he spots an unfamiliar rumple of fabric on the pillow where he laid his head.

“What’s this now?” Steven murmurs, gathering the soft material in his hands. A woman’s sweater, obviously, with its feminine cut and style and faintly sweet scent that short-circuits his brain for a moment.

It doesn’t take a genius to realize how it got inside their flat, what with how there’s a whole other person living in his head, and it would explain the strange marks he found on his neck the other day—

Heat blooms in his face and Steven nearly drops the sweater back onto the pillow in embarrassment. Distantly, he knows that he should’ve seen this coming. Marc is Marc; Steven’s witnessed the quiet confidence the man extrudes from inside their headspace and the resulting, ah, attention it attracts.

In the corner of his eye, his reflection stills. Steven doesn’t even bother turning around—just holds up the offending sweater and asks, “Fun night?”

Marc, strangely, is quiet. It’s not like he’s one to talk about his romantic pursuits, but Steven at least expected a dry comment or two. He shakes the sweater like a bag of treats until Marc scowls. “Stop that.”

“Not judging,” Steven says, “but don’t suppose you got a number? Should I make a run to the donation bin for you?”

“No.” There’s an edge to Marc’s voice, and he purses his lips when he realizes that he responded a little too fast; Steven’s questioning look is pointedly ignored. “Just leave it on my desk for now.”

“Is she coming back or is this just like a—” Steven makes an ambiguous gesture, full of innuendo “—thing for you?”

“What? No—what?”

“Okay, okay,” Steven finally lets up because the groove between his alter’s eyebrows has become something fierce. He slips out of bed to place the sweater on Marc’s desk as requested, then throws one more comment over his shoulder for good measure, “Bring her home for dinner one day, would you?”

“Steven!”

-

“Is that my shirt?” You move towards the armchair, a smile tugging at your lips as you pick up the folded garment. It’s been freshly laundered. Marc wouldn’t burden you if he could help it.

“Mhm.” He doesn’t stir from his seat on the couch, tracking your movements with fondness in his eyes. You’ve been to their place plenty over the past few months and quietly, he relishes in the domesticity.

They’re simple things, like knowing your preferred spoon in their drawer or how you like your toast; the ease in which you curl into the cushions next to him—your spot, he can’t help but note—draws a contented little sigh from him.

“You know, if you want me to do your laundry, you can just ask.”

He would. Steven would prod endlessly as he does with all things related to you, but Marc’s managed to get this far with vague explanations and stubborn hand-waving. He’d endure the nosiness if it were for you.

“Although,” he continues, giving you a once-over. His eyebrow quirks at the familiar cotton long-sleeve enveloping your torso. “I’m not even sure you have laundry anymore.”

“Well, maybe if your clothes weren’t so comfortable, I’d stop stealing them,” you tease.

(His clothes aren’t boring, Steven, just—utilitarian. Between Khonshu and his mercenary work, Marc needed plain, flexible pieces; ones that made him blend in anywhere and ready for anything. Nothing that he could get too attached too, either. Everything he wore was at risk of getting ruined by grime and/or blood and/or tearing from various weapons. Of course, he doesn’t own anything ‘nice.’

Not like Steven. Not with his hodgepodge closet filled with colours and patterns, everything just a tad too large on their frame. Marc groans about it every time he takes over in the middle of the day—just a size down, just one. But the issue is that Steven likes it like that, likes the comfort and roominess he finds in his thrifted pieces, and so Marc dropped it as a serious topic, even though he still doesn’t quite get it.)

“This why you had to wear my jacket the other day?”

Steven’s sudden appearances don’t phase Marc anymore, even when you’re around. He just gives him a slight nod without missing a beat. “At this rate, I won’t have any clothes left for you to take.”

“Guess I’ll just have to borrow something from Steven then, hm?”

Before Marc can even begin to think about what to say to that— “I think my white jumper would suit her really well.”

He shoots a glare into a nearby mirror and just barely catches a glimpse of Steven’s grin in the reflection. Part of him wants to tell Steven to stop hitting on his girlfriend, but hesitates when you look at him expectantly, still waiting for his response.

He’s not ashamed of Steven, far from it. Still, a sliver of self-consciousness worms its way into his chest at the thought of talking to him in front of you. He’s done it before, but—he knows how it can look.

You’re more perceptive than he’d like. Marc sees the moment when it clicks in your head. “Is he here right now?”

Excitement bleeds into your voice. You’ve been wanting to meet Steven for a while. Marc showing up to a date with tousled curls and a colourfully-printed button-up instead of his usual streamlined style, a slew of scribbled papers piled onto the armchair you like to lounge on, a sticky note left on one of your books (‘oooh good choice! x’)—all these things that sent panic strumming through his veins were only ever endearing to you, for some reason. It’s lessened his worry by orders of magnitude.

Still. Letting you meet Steven is one step closer to talking about his childhood. His mom. His brother. He’s given you a high- high-level view of things (“It wasn’t great.”), but the thought of going any further makes his throat tighten. There’s a whole failed marriage that proves his inability to be vulnerable.

So, it must truly be a bout of madness that makes him say, “The white one.”

“What?”

“What?”

“The white sweater,” Marc continues, because he’s already thrown himself off the bridge—there’s no use trying to backtrack now. “He says you’d look good in his white sweater.”

Your face slowly morphs into an expression of pure joy; you do nothing short of jump off the couch to bolt to their bedroom. Steven chatters excitedly in his ear, only pausing momentarily when you slip off Marc’s shirt.

“Oh! Um! She’s—she’s very—wow—" Marc feels the strangest urge to punch himself in the face again—

—And then you reappear into their field of view, a dream in fine knit. Steven’s sweater be damned, your beaming smile is more than enough to render them both speechless.

“How do I look?”

The sweater isn’t his, but it stirs the same syrupy feelings in Marc anyway. You’ve spoken about it before—and him privately with Steven—where Steven stands in your relationship with Marc. All he’s ever let himself hope for was for you and Steven to be cordial, maybe even friends. Of course, he’d have to actually let you guys speak to each other for any of that to be possible, but you two seem to have grown comfortable with each other regardless.

Now, he sees you in Steven’s clothes and his thoughts run rampant. Ours. He tests out the word and his heart skips a beat. It’s always been a possibility; one you all were open to if it ever happened. But he could never ask either of you to try to love each other on his behalf.

God, that word does something stupid to his brain—Steven’s rattling off compliments and other things of his you should try on and invites to go thrifting—and Marc just sits there, dumbfounded by his own hypothetical scenario. “Come on, Marc, say something!”

You move to stand in front of him, and his thighs part automatically to have you close. It takes your hand on his cheek, gentle as you stroke your thumb over his skin, to pull him back to reality. “You okay?”

“You look incredible.” His voice dips in the way he knowsmakes your stomach swoop, and is promptly rewarded with your flustered smile. The moment doesn’t last—not with Steven cooing in his ear over you.

A pang of possessiveness runs through Marc. That smile was for him, thank you very much.

His mouth works faster than his brain. “Steven has something to tell you.”

You light up. “Really?”

“Wants to tell you himself, actually.”

Steven splutters, nerves coming on in full force. Marc bites his tongue to keep a straight face. “Well, now, hang on a minute—”

Steven’s introduction was always going to be a well-thought-out but casual event, as to not make a circus out of it. It was just who they were, after all. They wouldn’t switch in front of you—Steven would change into his wardrobe and ‘do’ his hair beforehand; Marc worried it might be too much for you to see him but hear Steven. He would’ve prepped you both plenty in the preceding days, regardless of how necessary it was.

It definitely would not be the stunt he’s pulling right now.

Your eyes narrow at the placid look on his face, too casual to not be suspicious, but meeting Steven must outweigh the want to catch Marc in the act of whatever he’s planning because you don’t call him out, hands frozen on his face. It’s cute, watching you struggle between overt enthusiasm and not wanting to pressure them into anything.

Marc would even enjoy it a little longer if it weren’t for the confused and alarmed word vomit spilling out in his head.

“Stop messing about—I mean, it’s not—not odd, yeah? For me to front a little? Just a little chat, can’t be all that bad. Please be messing with me, but I can do it, s’not a big deal. Yeah, yeah, it’s whatever—oh, boy."

Taking pity on the poor guy, Marc quiets him with a steady glance into the mirror. “You sure, buddy?”

Slightly shrill but no less serious, “Are you sure, Marc?”

And then Marc’s fun little charade teeters on its head—is he ready for this? You and Steven wouldn’t hold it against him if he pulled the plug on it all right now, but this is the closest he’s ever gotten. The band-aid has to come off, lest he lets this fester for the length of another relationship.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, his flare of panic comforted by the patience in your eyes. More confidently this time, “Yeah, I’m sure.”

Steven’s smile is clear in his voice. It mirrors your own.

“About time, innit?”

-

Moving into their flat isn’t a decision you make all at once, but rather a slow, steady conclusion that you’ve been unintentionally working towards ever since you first visited.

The clothes were just the start. It’s not like you didn’t have perfectly good clothes before you met Marc, but his were just better somehow. Soft and simple, all in that neutral colour scheme he seemed to gravitate towards. The warm, woodsy scent of his aftershave clings to the fabric, making you want to bury your nose into the garments and go right back to the source—

You just couldn’t help yourself from borrowing something whenever you came over.

(That pleased, half-lidded gaze you receive each time you slip on his shirt, or his heated touch whenever he drapes his jacket over your shoulders during chilly morning afters—well. Those are just a bonus.)

So, maybe you left a shirt or two behind in the process. And maybe you realized that you should probably have a pair of sweatpants there as well, and a good book to read during quiet nights in. Once, you forgot your toothbrush only for Marc to pull out an extra from their medicine cabinet; now you have a toothbrush in their bathroom.

After you finally met Steven and his adorable, eclectic self—all bets were off. You bond while scouring vintage shops and finding new pieces for the flat. A little basket of throw blankets gets added to the living room (always neatly sorted by Marc, without fail). Candles—tall and stout, festive and fruity and spiced—start to litter the shelves. A particularly good haul at a used bookstore, a bit heavy for you to carry home, is instead slotted amongst their collection; the contemporary fonts and colourful covers are a stark contrast against the yellowing older texts, and you love it.

Your fingerprints are all over the place by the time Marc officially empties some space in his dresser for you, uncharacteristically avoiding your eyes as he speaks, “Just in case you wanted to keep some more stuff here.”

You were already using their closets before then (in both the storing-your-clothes sense and the stealing-their-clothes sense); you’ve practically taken over one of his drawers. But to give you one outright, to admit that he’s carved out some space just for you instead of silently accommodating your things as he always has—

“Thank you, Marc,” you whisper, brimming with emotion that you wonder if you’ll ever be able to fully express. He’ll flit about and clean and care for you because words will never capture the depth of his feelings. You see this for what it is, like all the gestures that have come before: a declaration.

“Thank you,” you repeat, and press a soft kiss onto the corner of his mouth. “I love you, too.”

It’s not much long after when Steven comes home from work grinning like a madman, one hand held behind his back. He beelines towards you, not even bothering to put his bag down.

“Hey, you.” You peck his lips and feel his smile stretch impossibly wider. “What’s got you all riled up?”

The words come out in a rush. “Havesomethingforyou.”

“Oh?”

“Close your eyes.” You can’t help but laugh a little as you follow the direction; Steven’s excitement is utterly infectious. “Okay, now hold out your hand.”

“If you give me a bug, I swear to God—”

“I would never.” His seriousness is a bit too heavy-handed, and you get a feeling you’re going to need to be on guard for a while.

You’re distracted, however, by the brush of his skin as he places something small and rigid into your palm. The metal is warm from being clasped inside his hand, but the shape is so familiar that you recognize what it is immediately.

“You can open—”

You’re already looking down—at the silver key to the flat nestled in your hand. Lonesome without the Koala plushie on Steven’s keyring, without the little charm you got for Marc’s—no, it’s meant to be your copy.

“We were thinking, right,” he starts before your heart has the opportunity to beat right out your chest, “Marc and I—well, you’re here with us most of the time. You should have your own key. Beats having to come grab mine from the museum, right?”

You let out a choked little laugh, too caught up to remind him that the only reason why you went to the museum was because else he would’ve dropped everything to deliver the keys himself. Spent his entire break and then some to commute back home so that you wouldn’t have to wait for his shift to be over, even though you could’ve amused yourself just fine outside until then.

“Yeah,” is all you manage to get out before stepping forward, burying your face in his chest as you wrap your arms around his torso. Steven’s love is unbridled; he holds you close, going on about how glad he is—how glad they both are—to have you, how he was practically bouncing off the walls at the locksmith, waiting for the key to be cut.

They’ve been your home for so long now that while the new addition onto your keyring makes you giddy and smile stupidly whenever you get to use it, it also just feels right. You go grocery shopping with Marc and watch him scrutinize apples like they personally offended him. Steven tangles your legs together as you wind down in the evenings, and always always smiles whenever he catches you looking at him. You rank the restaurants around the neighbourhood and line your favourite mugs beside each other on the shelf; you sit in the comforting quiet of the flat and wonder how you got so lucky.

When it’s eventually time to renew your lease, there’s no decision to be made. You’re relieved from dinner prep to write the email to your landlord on their couch. It’s sent off with no fanfare and quickly forgotten about when Marc’s voice rings out, asking what you want to eat.

“Anything,” you say, the ghost of a smile on your lips; he hates it when you say that. Marc grumbles a little, but you mean it this time. You have them and they have you. Curled up in one of Steven’s sweaters, Marc’s playlist on low in the background—anything is just fine by you.

.

.

.

You are the bane of Jake’s existence.

First, you meet Marc. Terrible. Khonshu is riding his ass about a mission in Liverpool—they’ve now been geolocked to stay under the radar—and Marc plans a date. An actual, Godforsaken date with a set time, throwing a wrench into their plans because Steven’s been scheduled to work on the surrounding days as well. How is he supposed to sneak off to the other side of the country now?

Even worse, you stick around. There are more dates between the two of you. For how much he hates texting, Marc responds promptly whenever you send him something. He frets over what to wear before picking you up. You stay over at the flat and he holds you in his sleep like he’s afraid you’ll disappear; Jake has been unluckily enough to wake up in the middle of the night, planning to slip away, only to be hit with the scent of your shampoo in his nose.

Then—and then—Marc has the bright idea to introduce you to Steven. The hope that this is just a casual, temporary thing is dashed away the second Jake sees that lovesick expression on the idiota. It’s more overt than Marc’s, but still the same blaring warning sign that Jake’s life is only about to get harder from here.

Keeping a low profile has become incredibly difficult since the others decided to be normal. Marc never questioned whenever Jake took over in a tight spot, too hyped up on adrenaline and too stubborn about their condition to follow up on his blackouts after the fight was done. Steven was clueless about everything for those first few months, then just blamed his blackouts on Marc.

But now? They talk to each other. They have a year-long calendar on the fridge with a magnetic pen holder to keep track of their schedules, colour-coded blue (for Marc) and green (for Steven). They’ve gotten distracted and added another consciousness for Jake to deceive in order to do his thing. He can’t take the body for more than a few hours, and certainly not by force, without drawing suspicion.

Jake’s happy for them. Really, he is. They’ve finally begun to move on from the trauma of their childhood into something that resembles a normal life. Steven’s gotten rehired at the museum as a tour guide. Marc’s taken up security consulting. And despite their respective anxiousness and ten-foot-walls, you bring them peace.

But that doesn’t change the fact that he’s Khonshu’s avatar now. That a lifetime ago, when the work began to wear down on Marc in all the worst ways, Jake was the one who cut a deal with the god for his release. All he had to do was take his place.

(Foresight might not be his strong suit, but he refuses to take responsibility for what happened next. He could never have imagined all the puppetry that’d occur with Layla in the mix, or that they’d actually divorce one of these days and end up with someone new.

Except this time, you know about their system and not about Khonshu. He wonders how well you’d take that whole mess.)

In short—Marc and Steven still need him. He can’t just up and disappear into the recesses of their mind; he has a job to do.

So, when Steven presses that fucking key into your hand, Jake’s so frustrated he could scream. Unfettered access to the flat—as if you weren’t there enough already. As if he weren’t already jumping through every hoop imaginable, just to keep his existence a secret. He would’ve made them drop the copy down the nearest gutter on the way home if he didn’t know that they would simply go right back to the locksmith and ask for another.

Steven watches as you slip it onto your keychain; that all-encompassing, vibrant burst of joy in their chest be damned—you are the worst thing to ever happen to Jake, even if you might be the best thing to ever happen to them.

-

Steven had the flat, Marc had his storage unit, and Jake?

Jake has his car.

Multiple, actually, but the limousine is the legal one (thanks for your identity, Marc) and serves as his homebase. Supplies are stashed in compartments around the cabin—weapons, clothes, cash—and with its heavily tinted windows, he can do anything he wants inside and passersby would be none the wiser. When Khonshu’s booming voice echoes around his brain about some new target, at least Jake can recline into a soft leather seat.

The only issue is that he can’t keep everything there. No, the parking garage is a fair distance away from the flat and sometimes, he doesn’t have the opportunity to make the trip before setting off. This means that he has to keep a change of clothes in the flat to avoid accidentally ruining some of Steven’s or Marc’s. He’d never actually wear anything of Steven’s to begin with (at least, not on a mission), but Marc’s wardrobe is minimal by choice—if something went missing or got a new, unexplained hole in it, he’d notice.

That’s why Jake is currently slinking through their living room, ready to change back into Steven’s pajamas before hiding his clothes on the loft above their bed. Nothing up there but empty bins and poster tubes. Marc regularly dusts the area during his monthly deep cleans, so Jake doesn’t even have to worry about leaving behind any tracks.

It was an easy job tonight, done in little less than an hour and not a speck on Jake to show for it. He could take a shower if he wanted—you’re staying over at a friend’s place right now, as noted in red on the calendar. But he shouldn’t keep the body for longer than necessary; they still need sleep, after all.

He slips off his flat cap, groaning as he runs a hand through his hair. God, they’re getting old. Even this stolen hour will be felt by whoever wakes up in the morning, slightly slower and groggier than usual.

(Jake doesn’t think about the future—has never needed to. The only future that exists to him is the next minute, and the minute after that, and what he has to do to ensure the body makes it there. Him and Marc were similar in that aspect for a long, long time.

That calendar on the fridge, while helpful to his vigilantism, stirs something uncomfortable in his gut. He’s seen them flip through the months to mark down birthdays and reservations. Vacations, work events—Marc’s going on a completely normal, non-violent work trip, which Jake still can’t quite wrap his head around—and it’s all so far ahead.

How can they be so sure that nothing will change between now and then? That their life won’t blow up again, and force them on the run? Everything they add is just another handful of salt to be pressed into the wound when it all goes to hell. But they still write things on that stupid calendar. Confident, excited even, about the plans they think will come to pass.

How do they know?)

There’s a rustling in the bedroom.

Oh, fuck. Fuck fuck fuck—

“Marc?”

You shift a little under the covers, trying to peer at him through the darkness. Jake’s never been more grateful for Marc’s sensible taste in fashion; with only a silhouette to go by, of course you’d mistake him for Marc—straight-cut jeans, a collared jacket. His flat cap would tip you off though, and he presses it into his chest to hide it from your line of sight. Marc would never wear a flat cap.

He forces a casual tone. “Hm?”

A small sigh of relief escapes you as your head falls back onto the pillow. Still watching him, though, you mumble, “Bad dream?”

You know about Marc’s time in the military and as a mercenary. Not everything, obviously, but enough. Jake nods, and can imagine the worried purse of your lips in the shadows. In the best impression he can manage, his accent turns Chicagoan. “Just had to take a walk.”

If he were really Marc, he’d already be in bed by now, letting you brush curls away from his face and press a kiss against the furrow of his brow. If he were really Marc, he’d ask you why you were back here instead of with your friends as expected, and you’d talk things out until dozing off in a tangle of limbs, comforted by each other’s presence.

But Jake’s not Marc. He brushes off the subtle tightening of his chest as just a lingering remnant from his alters. The body knows you, even if Jake doesn’t. It doesn’t mean anything to him.

You whine, a sleepy and pitiful but inviting noise from the back of your throat as he continues to stand in the living room. Alarm bells go off in his head; he has to placate you before you get up and try to drag him over yourself.

“Just need to change,” he says, soft and low, warmth injected into every word. Nausea courses through him, to his own confusion, as he continues to play Marc. This should be easier—he’s been hiding for as long as he can remember. This is probably the tamest thing he’s done to keep his cover. “Go back to sleep, I’ll be there in a second, okay?”

He takes two steps towards the kitchen then stops, feigning—feigning something, fuck if he knows—waiting for your breathing to level out again. Silence falls over the flat, but Jake’s mouth runs dry.

There’s no way you don’t bring this up to them in the morning, and there’s no way they won’t immediately suspect another alter. They know he exists, have seen the aftermath of when he fronts. It’s only his secrecy that has kept them off his back for this long, and it will all come crashing down in a few hours.

For better or for worse, he’ll have to meet the others soon.

-

Marc will never tire of waking up beside you. Even though there’s a heaviness weighing him down, body aching for just a few more minutes, he pushes through because you’re already awake. With one hand on his chest, the other tracing over his jaw—the small, lazy smile on your face has already made his day.

You turned over while he was asleep, but his arm is still slung over your waist; he pulls you closer to press a kiss onto your forehead. Lips moving against your skin, “Morning, baby.”

“Morning,” you murmur. “Feel better?”

Mind hazy from sleep, Marc doesn’t question the odd wording. He just let’s himself settle into the lingering fatigue, leaning into your touch as his eyes flutter shut again. “M’tired. Stay with me a little longer?”

Concern laces your tone. “Was the dream that bad?”

That breaks through to him. He peers at you curiously, more alert than before. “What do you mean?”

You blink, confused. “Your nightmare last night. You left to take a walk?”

Marc sits up, furrowing his brow. Reality seeps in, and he checks the date on his phone. Aren’t you supposed to be—? “I thought you were staying over at a friend’s place.”

“I was going to, but she had a family emergency—I came back here around three. Don’t worry, they walked me home,” you explain with a soft pat of your hand at the end. That—that is one mystery solved, and he is glad to hear that you weren’t walking alone at night, but his shoulders remain taut with tension. His mind gets caught on a detail.

“Three?” He’s a light sleeper, he would’ve woken up when you came into bed. But—your words replay in his mind. He wasn’t here when that happened, was he? “I went on a walk?”

His stress begins to spill over to you, and you prop yourself up on an elbow, fiddling at the blankets. “Um, yeah. We spoke a little when you came back—I was already in bed, remember?”

A pit opens up in his stomach, and the words die in this throat. Marc does not, in fact, remember. He apparently went outside in the middle of the night, long enough for you to come home and settle in without him, then had a whole conversation upon return—and none of it is familiar to him. Not even a hint of déjà vu.

He throws off the covers, on his feet in seconds despite your protests. All hisblackouts, the ones he thought were finished after traversing the Duat—

That third sarcophagus—

Is this what it was like for Steven? To wake up, not knowing what your body has done, where it’s been—if it’s hurt someone?

Marc might actually puke if he thinks about it for too long. And God, you live with them now: him, Steven, and what Marc wishes was a complete unknown. But the truth is—they aren’t an unknown. No, Marc is fully aware of what this alter is capable of.

“Oh, bugger, what’s going on?” Steven must feel his panic, reflects it in kind. He must be expecting bloodshed with how fast their heart is racing.

Marc says nothing and flings open the tri-mirror on the wall, bracing himself with both hands on the sink below. He sees himself in the center, a bull primed to fight. Steven’s to the left, so fearful he’s nearly frozen still. And to the right—

To the right—

-

So. Jake hasn’t really prepared for this situation, to be honest.

He’ll face anything head-on to keep the body safe, but imagining himself as the threat? Never crossed his mind. There’s anger in their blood, and Marc’s liable to cracking the porcelain with his grip. If looks could kill, Jake would be dead ten times over.

The few times he wondered what it would be like to actually meet Marc and Steven, the worst that could happen was that they disliked him. Unfortunate, but he’d live. He didn’t need their approval to do his job.

But through the blood rushing in their ears, he can hear you; still in bed, barely breathing as you watch everything unfold. And that’s when he remembers—

You are the bane of his existence.

Because Marc and Steven aren’t just thinking about their own self-preservation. No, now they have you to protect, and the lengths that they would go to do that, well—Jake begrudgingly has to admit that they might rival some of his own efforts for them.

He’d let them stare at themselves forever in the mirror if it weren’t for that fact. They would never give up on trying to talk to him. Steven was clever enough with the sand and tape and ankle restraint; he doesn’t want to think about what sort of traps they’d create with Marc in the mix. Jake would probably still evade them all, but they’d drive themselves crazy in their attempts.

They’ve really left him no choice. For the first time, he lets himself be seen.

-

You’ve watched Marc and Steven talk to each other plenty of times. It’s really no big deal. They’re just normal conversations where you can only hear one side, and usually taken through the nearest reflective surface.

But this? This is an interrogation. Marc slackens his jaw for just a moment before everything in him tenses again. He speaks through clenched teeth, as if barely controlling the severity of his thoughts—you can’t help but brace yourself for impact. “Who are you?”

The pause as he waits for the other alter, whoever they are, to respond is maddening. It wasn’t quite fear that gripped you when you realized that it wasn’t Marc last night—to be honest, you don’t know what to feel—but the scene in front of you has you reevaluating your initial reaction.

That initial reaction being, well—the same thing you felt when you Marc told you about Steven: curiosity. You wanted to meet Steven. Almost begged for the chance near the end. Whoever this is—

“Jake.”

The name grates itself out of Marc’s throat, and you cling to the information like a life raft.

“Jake.” You can’t help but test it out on your tongue, squinting a little as you look at your boyfriend and try to see yourself calling him that. Marc looks towards you. There’s a storm of emotions in his eyes, but there’s no time to decipher any of them—a moment later, he turns back towards the mirror with a scowl.

“Why should I believe you?” The lines on his face deepen; Marc grits his teeth so hard you yearn to hold him, but you’re frozen to the spot.

“I don’t know that. After you—” his eyes dart between you and his reflection so fast, you might’ve imagined it “—after what you’ve done?”

A wave of dread washes over you.

He’s not talking about last night.

No, Marc—Marc has interacted with Jake before, and whatever happened must’ve crossed a line. Must’ve crossed several lines because of how he’s acting right now, and you want to bury yourself under the covers, still fisted tightly in your hands.

He laughs bitterly. The sound rakes through your ears. “You call that protecting us?”

Your blood runs cold. With no real context and spiked with adrenaline, your mind runs rampant with the possibilities, connects all the worst dots.

There’s no way—

“Lay a hand on her and I swear—”

You want to run and you want to hide and you want their arms around you, assuring you of—of anything. You need to leave this building and also never go outside again, because your head begins to pound with each thought that passes through.

You can still see the worry flare in Marc’s eyes when you accidentally grabbed the handle of a hot pan, the dutiful and tender way he held your hand under the tap for no less than fifteen minutes—

You can still hear Steven’s babbling when your new shoes rubbed your ankles red and raw while on a walk, distracting you from the pain the best he could until you got back home—

You are just so acutely aware of their love—that Marc and Steven would never dare hurt you. It’s impossible to reconcile your memories of them with the picture that’s being painted of Jake right now.

No. You can’t believe it.

You’re not even hearing their conversation anymore, your heartbeat is too loud. Breathing returns to you in a rush—you never even realized you stopped—and your vision swims with light-headedness.

None of it makes sense.

It—it can’t—

The mattress dips beside you, but you barely feel it. Someone’s cupping your cheeks, grounding you back into the flat, your home, and you know these hands. You know this voice, soothing in your ear, even as you shut your eyes.

They say that they’re sorry. They say that you’ll be okay.

They call you princesa.

-

It feels strange walking around the flat, knowing that he’s welcome there now.

Jake’s seen every nook and cranny through Marc and Steven, but to actually be able to explore the place himself—he’s like a kid in a toy store. He can’t help but run his fingers over everything. The spines on the bookshelves, the mismatched dishware in the cabinets. That velvet throw pillow, which you are so fond of playing with during movies—yeah, he gets it.

He’s not going to be talking to you for a while, though. After his rocky first meeting with Marc and Steven, which also coincides with the absolute worst possible first meeting with you—

It’s best to steer clear for a while.

Jake let the other two do the explaining. He watched silently as Marc told you about his past—told you about why he was discharged from the Marines and the scenes he’d wake up to after Jake had fronted—hands shaking as they held onto yours. He watched as Steven took over when it got to be too much, adding in the finer details and clarifications, steadier but no less genuine than Marc. Their arms were gentle as Steven held you in their lap, patient as you stumbled through how you felt.

“Marc seemed so mad at Jake.” You clutched at Steven’s shirt, sniffling into his neck. “I didn’t know what was happening, I—I was scared.”

No. Jake furiously shakes his head as if it would jostle the memory out of his brain. Just thinking about it threatens to unravel him, and he has to keep it together. He’s on thin ice as is.

You had been the one to temper their emotions—the sight of you panicking on their bed grinding all other issues to a halt. The conversation couldn’t continue until you were okay, and this time, Steven kept you in the loop.

Steven is wary. Steven needles him about what he’s been doing all this time, asks him what he’s going to do now with short little mhms. Steven is also the one to buy a new set of pens (because black is already used for non-individual specific events) and designates him as orange.

Marc doesn’t trust Jake at all and admits it outright. It’s—it stings more than he thought it would, but he understands. He always knew that Marc would take a while to come around, especially with you to consider—

Jake doesn’t know why he worries so much about your opinion. Protecting you is an extension of protecting the body, but he never used to care about what Marc or Steven had to say. He hates the caution in your voice when you talk about him and can’t help but appreciate you trying anyways.

He pinches himself. You’re not his to think about, period.

Acknowledging his existence also, sort of, comes with accepting it. Steven somehow finds the space for another dresser in their already cramped bedroom. Jake doesn’t even have enough possessions in general to fill that thing—not counting all the weapons and ammo that Marc would definitely have their head for if he brought them into the flat.

It’s an olive branch on both sides, though. They’re committing to having him around. He’s committing to being around, instead of lurking in the background of their lives.

His clothes only fill up the first drawer but—it’s nice. Jake stares at the thing a lot more than a used, scratched-up piece of furniture probably warrants. He can barely admit it to himself but this, all of it—going outside during the day, eating a freshly-cooked meal, even just relaxing in bed without immediately trying to go to sleep in order to Protect the Body—it really is just nice.

(Since when did he describe anything as nice?)

Then—your keys turn in the door.

.

.

.

Jake hits the eject button so fast, Steven’s probably going to get whiplash.

“Nice reflexes,” he grumbles as you enter the flat. It was funny the first few dozen times. Now? That twat’s just being a coward.

“I’m home!” You call out as Steven rounds the corner to greet you, tote bag nearly bulging in your hand. He pecks your lips as he helps you out of your jacket, then hangs it up beside the three others on the rack. “There was a little creators’ market in the park—you should’ve seen it!”

“Think I’m seeing it now,” he chuckles, moving to help you with your tote. You slink past him at the last second, grinning. “Come on, love, show us what you got!”

“They’re gifts! Just hang on.” You place the bag on the dining table and enraptured, he pulls up a stool. His head rests on his chin as he waits for you to unpack. “Okay, first, for Marc—”

You reach your hand inside and reveal a pair of black leather gloves. Not driving gloves like Jake’s—there’re far less embellishments all around. But they’re warm and flexible, perfect for colder weather. Inside, the lining is made with a material so soft that when trying one on, Steven can’t help but laugh a little in disbelief.

“Treading on my territory, pendejo?”

Marc snipes back, “Like you own a monopoly on leather gloves.”

Steven lets Marc pull to the front. An easy smile spreads on his face as he flexes his hand, testing his movement. “Thanks, baby. I really like them.”

He takes your chin into his gloved hand to thank you properly, slotting his lips against yours with no shortage of appreciation. His grip is an anchor, holding you in place as he kisses you, deep and languid. Like you have all the time in the world despite the heat flickering across his skin. When Marc gets like this, it’s not long before you start squirming under him, and your hands paw at his neck for something more.

That’s his cue to finally pull away, smirking as he traces your bottom lip with his thumb. Whether it’s the leather or him or both, he can see the effect on you, the dazed look you give him when you bat your eyes open.

Let Jake try and beat that.

“Oi! Share!”

Marc sighs. Drops his forehead to yours and reluctantly doesn’t continue any further. “Steven wants his gift now.”

“Oh,” you laugh a little, realizing the situation you’ve put yourself in. “Maybe I should’ve done Steven’s first.”

Marc steals one more kiss before retreating again, and Steven is back, clearly eager for many different reasons now. After putting Marc’s new gloves to the side, you don’t make him wait a second longer; you pull out a stunning new button-up, deep navy with a pattern of large teal palm leaves and hints of salmon accents all over.

All traces of joy disappear from Marc’s voice. “Oh, my fucking God.”

“She’s an enabler. I can’t believe it.”

Steven gapes, amazed. “How did you—”

“I had to go digging,” you admit, gesturing widely. “There were so many racks, we need to go back! I only had my one bag!”

“There’s no way people actually buy this stuff.”

“Ahh, well, it’s not that bad—"

“Are you kidding me?”

Ignoring the fashion police in his head, Steven immediately switches shirts and tosses the old one somewhere behind him. Based on Marc’s grunt, he missed the couch, but also can hardly find himself to care.

He doesn’t even bother doing up the buttons, because he knows where you’ll put your hands when he descends upon your face. Kiss after kiss on your cheeks, forehead, and nose, and soon enough you’re giggling loudly into the air. Your hands are warm against his bare torso, pulling him closer even as their stubble tickles your skin.

“Stevie—Steven! There’s one more!”

He’s not letting you off that easily, though, and finally captures your lips with his. That does buy him a few more blissful seconds until you manage to push him away; breathing heavily, you point sternly in his direction—behave.

Steven schools his expression into one of perfect obedience, teasing, but you barely even react. With one glance back down at the table, it’s like the tote bag sucked away your excitement, leaving shy uncertainty in its wake. You’re biting your lip as you reach for the last gift, quiet.

Marc hums, trying to figure out what’s wrong. Steven offers you an encouraging little smile and is about to say something when you produce the last gift in a rush, still not meeting their eyes.

It’s a simple wool scarf, colour-blocked in soft browns and greys. He waits as you fiddle with it in your hands, trying to find the words.

“He doesn’t have a scarf,” you blurt out. When Steven doesn’t respond immediately, you continue. “Jake, I mean—I don’t think he has one. I thought it would be nice.”

He follows your gaze to the coat rack near the door, filled with four sets of outerwear. It clearly doesn’t fit all the jackets owned in the household, but his favourite is hung up next to Marc’s, which is hung up beside your overcoat and Jake’s collared jacket. Various cold weather accessories are layered onto the hooks as well, multiple pairs of gloves, hats—but there are only three scarves.

Come to think of it, Steven hasn’t seen Jake ever wear a scarf either. “You’re right, love. Doesn’t his neck get cold? I know our neck gets cold.”

The corners of your mouth tug up a little and he grins, triumphant. He tunes into his head, making sure he doesn’t miss any of Jake’s reaction, but nothing comes. That’s odd. It doesn’t feel like he’s gone, more like—holding his breath.

“Think he’ll like it?” You tilt your head, though your true question is clear on your face.

The words can’t come out of Jake fast enough. “I’m not here right now.”

“Jesus, man.”

Steven huffs but covers for his alter; they’ll press him about it another time. “Once he sees it, I don’t think he’ll ever take it off.”

The gloves and scarf are added to the coat rack, which is liable to falling over one of these days due to the heavy load it’s carrying. With no shortage of complaining from Marc, Steven picks up his discarded shirt and tosses it into the laundry basket. It’s almost full—he makes a note to do a load later this week.

He must look ridiculous, parading around in an undone button-up, but you have nothing but fondness for him when he returns to cuddle with you on the couch. You’ve changed into Marc’s sweater and have to move no less than five decorative pillows in order to make enough space.

Marc makes a distressed noise when Steven throws one of them to the side. “It’s fine—”

It hits the standing lamp and you both freeze as you watch it teeter on its base, creaking ominously. After a moment, it steadies again.

“It’s only fine because of your weak throw.”

Steven splutters as he pulls you into his side. “We have the same arm!”

They bicker about the mechanics of their body, whether muscle memory crosses over when they switch or not. Marc is squarely of the opinion: No. Steven reminds him of when he punched the Jackal, and the conversation continues to devolve. Jake refrains from getting involved but spurs them on regardless with a well-placed snicker here and there.

It’s an aimless argument that has you burying your face in your hands because you’re laughing too hard; one of many that have taken place and one of many that have yet to occur.

In the morning, Marc will cook you breakfast and throw an eggshell into the bin from across the kitchen just to prove a point. Steven will go back to the market with you to buy armfuls of his favourite clothing and home goods, and he’ll add one more to his bag for every snide comment Marc makes. And Jake—

Jake will take a little while longer until he feels ready to speak to you, but you see the scarf gather raindrops and the warm, woodsy smell of their aftershave as he wears it every time he goes outside. Always see it hung up neatly on the rack, on top of his jacket so it can properly dry.

And with all four of you settled in, their cluttered little flat in London—long overflowing with books and clothes, your favourite comforts and some truly unique furniture—finally started to feel complete.

[night-raven-tattler]

What's your ideal type?

A/N: This is a series where I write what I think is the ideal type for all the boys of the main cast. Enjoy!

Characters: Heartslabyul dorm (Riddle, Ace, Deuce, Trey, Cater) ×GN!Reader (separate, romantic)

Other parts of the series: Savanaclaw, Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, Diasomnia

Warnings: food (Trey's first bullet point)

By opening the document, you agree to Mx Tattly's terms of source confidentiality.

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Riddle's ideal type would be...

Someone who can gain his respect. A way into Riddle's heart is to catch his attention, either through your extensive knowledge about your favorite topic or a very solid sense of self. He likes people who can hold their head high so their crown won't fall off.

Someone who can understand his need to stick to the rules. His journey of self improvement made him understand he can't always force people to stick to all rules. But he still has a long way to go until he can break out of his bad habits, and if you wait for him to catch up, he'll appreciate it.

Someone who allows him to feel his emotions. Always forced to listen and never argue, Riddle has a lot of pent up emotions that spill out through anger at every inconvenience, but no one really taught him how to sit down with himself and understand what bottled up emotion is making him react. He needs someone who can at least nudge him towards trying to understand what and why he's feeling.

Someone who takes him out of his comfort zone. The rigid routine he has been stuck in over the years left its mark on Riddle, making him fear trying out new things. He fears the consequences of failure. But it's natural to be bad before you are good at something, and if you can push Riddle towards trying new things you get to see him at his most vulnerable: someone who simply loves to learn about the wonders of the world around him.

『••✎••』

Ace's ideal type would be...

Someone he can get a reaction out of. Ace is a major tease and a bit of a jerk, but that's part of his charm. From annoyance to fluster, if he can get himself to stay into your mind longer than expected, he'll gladly extend his stay there for as long as possible.

Someone who is not afraid to call him out and keep him in line. Ace doesn't just nod and agree: he likes to make a statement, to be honest and call people out, but his thoughts don't always go through any filters before leaving his lips. He appreciates when you can be honest in return and tell him that he is going too far.

Someone who doesn't get offended from every honest thing he says. Like I mentioned above, Ace doesn't really use his mental filter, and things just come out of his mouth sometimes. He doesn't always mean harm, he just wants to get his point across and be as straightforward as possible. He likes when you're willing to take his feedback before commenting on his lack of filter.

Someone who pays attention to him. It's a surefire way to gain Ace's affection. Rewarding him in just the right ways will have Ace following you like a puppy, if he's not doing that already. Save him a seat in the cafeteria. Get him those cherry flavored candies. Cheer for him during a basketball match. Soon enough he'll reciprocate the gestures.

『••✎••』

Deuce's ideal type would be...

Someone who is comfortable with change. Deuce is always working on ways to become a better person, a better student, a better son, even a better boyfriend. If you can understand why he always needs to seek ways to change, you'll be a welcome presence in his life.

Someone responsible. Deuce is not the most reliable student out there. He's trying, but not always succeeding. So, if he has someone to look up to, it will motivate him and won't let him dwell on his shortcomings for too long.

Someone he can make mistakes with. He deeply regrets his past as a delinquent, so he holds himself to a standard that always seems to be out of his reach, and kicks himself up when he doesn't reach it. If you can teach him that baby steps are more important than huge change, you'll earn a place in Deuce's heart.

Someone who finds family important. This might sound weird, but you won't always be Deuce's top priority. His mom, Dillah, is the only person who was in his corner no matter what while he was growing up. He wants to do everything he can to repay her for everything she did. Someone who understands the importance of family in Deuce's life reassures him that not only you'll fit in his family, but you'll be on a similar page when he decides it's time to bring up you two making your own.

『••✎••』

Trey's ideal type would be...

Someone who appreciates baking. You don't have to be good at it. You don't even need to know too much about it! Trey likes the attention you give him whenever he bakes, especially since he does it very often.

Someone who doesn't push him to be more than what he is. Trey has a very solid sense of self, and knows exactly what he wants to do to live a comfortable and satisfying life. Just trust him and let him know you are confident he knows what he's doing, and don't bring up any "wasted potential" talk.

Someone who calls him out when he jumps to conclusions. Trey is observant, kind and compassionate; however he also tends to underestimate the people around him, in the way that he thinks everyone who has his sympathy needs his support. Don't hesitate to remind him how that backfired for him, and he'll appreciate it.

Someone who can enjoy a small prank war with him. At the end of the day, Trey likes teasing people and a good, harmless practical joke has him smirking at you for days. You can always try to put salt in his coffee or misplace his notes, but you also need to be prepared for the consequences.

『••✎••』

Cater's ideal type would be...

Someone who doesn't wear their heart to their sleeve. They say a bit of mystery makes someone more attractive, and Cater totally agrees. He does find the honest types adorable, but to catch and keep his attention on you, you have to leave some cards close to your chest. It will leave him curious and eager to unravel you, piece by piece.

Someone who enjoys aesthetic things. Cater often takes out his phone to snap pics of various things he finds cool or interesting to post to his Magicam. Don't be afraid to send him pictures you've taken as well! Just don't send too many pink things.

Someone who gives him space when he needs it. It's no secret Cater is pretty closed off emotionally and doesn't really like to make close relationships. While it's good to bring him out of his shell in the emotional department, overdoing it will overwhelm him and push him away. You have to do it bit by bit, leaving him enough space to decide when it's okay to seek you out himself.

Someone who is willing to be more emotionally open first. Creating a safe space is key. You will have to make the first step if you want you two to develop a deeper connection. If you extend your hand first, he'll at least consider taking it.

『••✎••』

[cookingmamatwo-dinnerwithfriends]

chocolate frog terrarium || theodore nott x reader

a/n: WARNING: ur a HUFFLEPUFF GIRL and now you have made-up siblings lol the chocolate frog thing was something i thought of a while ago and i think it’s funny. and i played hogwarts legacy so i have to reference it <3

to say that theodore was nervous about the date was an understatement. he was overwrought and maybe even querulous (thank you thesaurus.com). he didn't know what to wear and he was worried that his hair looked stupid. eventually he decided he looked as good as he was going to and left to meet (y/n) in the bell tower courtyard.

when he made it outside he saw her waiting by the fountain. she was conjuring three little yellow canaries, a spell they had recently learned in mcgonagall's class. when she saw him walking towards her she waved her wand and all of the birds disappeared.

"theo, you made it!" she walked towards him, grinning widely.

"you didn't think i'd show?" he pretends to be offended. "i see you've mastered the avis charm?" he watches as a few yellow feathers fall to the ground at her feet.

"truly i was worried you and malfoy were having me on..." she trailed off before quickly pivoting to a brighter topic. "are you ready to go?"

"yeah let's get going," he offers his arm and she takes it, looping hers through his.

they make small talk as they walk across the rickety bridge and all the way to hogsmeade, talking about everything from potions class to what they think harry potter will manage to do before this year is up. they also make a brief pitstop at the puffskein den on the way to the village ("they're so cute, let's just look at them for a second!").

"where do you want to go first?" theo asked as the both of them entered the wizard village.

"honeyduke's," (y/n) answered immediately.

"that was quick," theo teased her, but still led them to the candy store.

as they walk around together theo watches as she examines almost everything in the store.

"what's your favorite thing in here?" she asks him while still perusing the shelves.

he thinks for a minute before answering, "probably...every-flavor beans."

"are you a sociopath or something?" she asked with mock-seriousness. "i can't eat those. ever since i got a dragon dung flavored bean." she shivered at the memory.

he laughed loudly, "i've never got one like that...what's your favorite?"

she picks up a chocolate frog and holds it up to theo, suddenly laughing lightly at something.

"you know i come from a muggle family, right?" she asked, tilting her head at him. he nodded, so she continued. "i bought one of these for my brother one time, and when it jumped out he thought it was a real frog, so he set up a little habitat for it and kept it as a pet."

"how long did it stick around?" theo asked, genuinely curious as he had never left a chocolate frog open and uneaten for longer than five minutes.

"a day, then it melted under the heat lamp," she chuckled, putting the chocolate frog back. "i wish you could have seen his face when he found his brand new pet frog melted in his tank."

"i've always wondered how muggles would react to all of these different candies," theo said, imagining the scene of a boy finding his new pet as a melted chocolate blob.

"don't get me started on my sister," she rolled her eyes before continuing, "she tries to talk to the cards. she has a crush on her gilderoy lockhart card."

"so you've exposed your muggle family to the wizarding world as well?" he asked.

"yes," she said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "i think it would be rather selfish to keep all of this to myself."

"did your parents freak out when they found out?"

"oh yes, my mom nearly lost it when i made a worm grow to, like, double its size."

"i would too, that sounds vile," he scrunched his nose up at the thought of a fat fucking earthworm.

(y/n) grabs two chocolate frogs and a box of fizzing whizbees before going to the counter to pay. before she could even get her coin purse open, theo had already given the cashier enough money to cover it.

“you didn’t have to do that,” she frowned.

“i wanted to impress you,” he shrugged.

she rolled her eyes before offering him one of the frogs. they both opened them, caught them, and began eating them.

“what card did you get?” she asked, peering over his shoulder to see.

“fig,” he said unenthusiastically. “i have like eight of him already. who did you get?”

“ooh! i got mcgonagall! i don’t have her yet!” she said excitedly, pocketing the card. “i don’t have fig though….”

she side-eyed him in hopes that he would hand over the card. which he did. he didn’t need a ninth eleazar fig.

they started their walk back to the castle shortly after this. shyly brushing hands until theo made the move to fully hold her hand. he walked her down to the hufflepuff common room where he found himself sad to part ways.

“i had a really nice time today theo…” (y/n) said shyly, looking down at her feet. “we should do this again sometime.”

“yeah definitely! i had a great time too,” he smiled down at her softly.

he was wracking his brain, trying to think of something NORMAL to say, when she stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek.

“goodnight theo,” she smiled softly and went into her common room.

he smiled as he turned around to walk to the dungeons. when he made it to his dorm, malfoy and mattheo (yep he’s here IM SORRY) were waiting for him.

“how’d it go mate?” mattheo asked, smirking at theo.

“it was really great,” theo answered earnestly, too giddy to say something cool and nonchalant.

“that’s just adorable,” malfoy cooed at him.

“shut up…” theo rubbed the back of neck, before plotting with the boys on how to ask (y/n) out again.

[valorascult]

⋆.˚✮ Mental Glow Up Tips ✮˚.⋆

When we hear the words “glow up” - many of us automatically think about our appearance, not understanding that a glow up is internal and external. Too often we neglect our mental state and stay stagnant; repeating the same cycle our whole lives. It’s important to practice mindfulness and stay in the present moment so we are able to be fully aware of our thoughts / actions to reduce stress and increase mental clarity. Taking care of our mind is a large component to self-care, if not, the most important.

Below are a few exercises & knowledge ideas to practice.

Write down all the old habits the new you wouldn’t carry & write how you will replace them - what new / more self fulfilling habits will you now include into your daily life

Focus on reading one book a month. This can be about anything you wish. Reading will help you expand your vocabulary & literary skills , lower stress levels, improves your sleep if you read before bed, improves memory & can give you the confidence to speak with others about topics you might’ve stayed silent about prior to reading.

Stay up to date on global changes. You don’t have to know everything going on but its important to know at least 3 big events currently happening. When you go to gatherings and people are speaking on global events, you will have the courage and knowledge to also pitch in. Don’t be the one sitting in the corner clueless.

Aquire a mentor. It’s important to have a guide in your life, why not make it easier with someone likeminded and encouraging? You never know where this connection may lead, this will always open new doors for you. Don’t be afraid to ask questions & share ideas. A mentor is able to provide you unbiased advise from their previously acquired knowledge + hold you accountable.

Start learning a new skill that most people wouldn’t expect you to have. This allows you to be more interesting from some else’s pov. This doesn’t mean acquire a skill you normally wouldn’t care for just to be ‘cool’ - but rather, acquire a skill you’ve been wanting to achieve for a while that you probably haven’t told many people about. Pick a niche topic.

Listen to informational podcasts - this improves your overall listening skills and feeds you valuable information at the same time.

I know it’s talked about 24/7 but STOP procrastinating. That goal you have set a year from now? How can we now make that achievement in 6 months? Every day you should be working towards something. Too often we fill our days with things we believe are getting us somewhere (cooking, cleaning, running quick errands, etc;) when in reality those activities are simply getting you by - these are already set in stone chores you are going to do regardless. What is your goal? How can you break down your goals on paper to achieve things each week instead of each month?

Learn financial literacy - you should have control and understand your finances. When it comes to money, you should have confidence. This equips you with knowledge to make informed decisions.

I could write around 20 more tips but I will keep it at the basics. Don’t overstimulate yourself, reward yourself for achievements - you don’t have to be strict but don’t slack either xoxo.

[in1-nutshell]

Bot Buddy being Rattrap's younger sibling

SFW, familial, platonic, Cybertronian/ bot reader

Beast wars

Buddy is a calm and sensitive soul. Their beast mode is an armadillo. They tend to be a bit more open minded to some things than Rattrap is.

Rattrap loves his younger sibling to bits… that being said, he has a peculiar way of showing it.

Their dynamic gives off.

No-one-can-hurt-them-but-me vibes.

“Hey Rattrap look at this picture I drew of the flowers this morning!”--Buddy

“I’ve seen prettier flowers than those.”--Rattrap

“Yeah, those are kind of ugly.”--Cheetor

“Take that back! Those are the most beautiful flower in the world!”--Rattrap

“Aww thanks Rattrap.”--Buddy

“Get lost you bumpy bowling ball.”—Rattrap

Rattrap being the older sibling is protective of his younger sibling. He doesn't like it when they have to go out on a solo patrols. Not that he would ever admit it. Buddy knows this, of course.

“All righty then. See you in a bit Rattrap.”--Buddy

“Now at this time, at night, all by yourself. Yeah, fat chance bumpy.”--Rattrap

“Woah. Woah. Woah. Where do you think you’re going hot shot?”--Rattrap

“I’m going on patrol.”--Buddy

“Do you want to come then?”--Buddy

“Now why would I want to go on patrol with you? I got stuff to do here in the ship where its safe and warm.”--Rattrap

“Oh, okay then, I guess I can get Cheetor to come.”--Buddy

“Yeah right. And have him reveal your location in 5 seconds. Nope, give me a second to look for my blaster.”--Rattrap

“Thanks, I guess?”--Buddy

“Yeah, don’t mention it. Really don’t mention it.”--Rattrap

Buddy is extremely protective of Rattrap. As much as they don't like or understand much of his way with words, they do not tolerate anyone talking bad about him. Especially the jab is without reasoning. They have been known to defend Rattrap more times than they can count.

“Back off Dinobot!”--Buddy

“What?!”--Dinobot

“He didn’t mean it and that was uncalled for!”--Buddy

“…”--Dinobot

“… Okay maybe he did mean it but still uncalled for!”--Buddy

Unlike Rattrap, buddy will trust almost anyone/ anything. This puts Rattrap in edge every time. He has lost the number of times Buddy has tried to befriend or trust something the Predacons have said. He swears that they will be the death of him one of these days.

“Hey Rattrap! Theres a note from the Predacon’s ‘You can have some Energon goodies if you just come over the ridge. Enjoy!’ Wow, that’s nice of them.”--Buddy

“Buddy, I swear—THE ROPE IS RIGHT THERE HOW—and now your stuck upside down. Again.”--Rattrap

“Help?”--Buddy

“Yeah. Yeah. I got you kid. Primus this has been the 10th time this week.”—Rattrap

The other Maximals find it a bit hard to see Buddy even being remotely related to Rattrap. If anything, Buddy might have been related more to Rhinox than Rattrap. Rattrap knows this an is a bit self-conscious on the topic, not that he talks about it anyways.

“Maybe it’s like how he said that he is related to Arcee?”--Cheetor

“He’s related to who?!”--Dinobot

Optimus appreciates the way Buddy can reign in Rattraps attitude a bit when they are around. Optimus knows that those two have a good bond, a rare one that hasn’t been seen in a while. It’s nice though. Primal has learned not to question the loyalty between the siblings. He once went out on patrol with Buddy and Rattrap where they were ambushed by Waspinator and Terrosaur. Buddy insisted Optimus throw them up to help with the attack. He did it and it sent Rattrap into a small frenzy. When Buddy had gotten back down safely, Rattrap was trying to tear a new one in the leader before rushing over to see if Buddy was okay.

“Throw me!”—Buddy

“Are you sure?”--Optimus

“Absolutely Optimus!”--Buddy

“Wait what?”--Rattrap

“Okay Buddy, get ready!”--Optimus

“Wait what!”--Rattrap

“Weeeeee!!”--Buddy

“Buddy!”--Rattrap

“They’re fine Rattrap.”--Optimus

“You’re the one who isn’t going to be fine if they get so much as a dent Banana breath!”--Rattrap

“Rattrap—”--Optimus

“I swear if they don’t—”--Rattrap

“Hi guys.”--Buddy

“Buddy! Are you hurt? Are there any dents? What were you thinking? Did Primal hurt you?”--Rattrap

*Confused but happy Gorilla noises.*

Rhinox knows about the little talks here and there about Buddy being his long-lost sibling instead of Rattraps. He did humor it a bit at first thinking it wasn’t going to be too bad. Buddy had joined in just for good humor too.

But after a bit he doesn’t react too much.

Then he notices how Rattrap acts when the joke is brought up. He does his best to try and make his friend feel better after that. He does like Buddy’s nature and enjoys their little talks when they have the ship to themselves.

“You know Rattrap, Buddy and I’ve been talking.”--Rhinox

“Oh yeah? What about?”--Rattrap

“Buddy was telling me how they were worried about you when you came back late from patrol the other day. They seemed to miss their brother.”--Rhinox

“Oh okay…”--Rattrap

*Content rat noises.*

Cheetor doesn’t believe that sweet sensitive Buddy is related to dirty mouth Rattrap. The difference is night and day between those two. How is this possible? Buddy, due to them being younger is probably the closest age to Cheetor. Automatically making the two best friends. They have their own mini adventures from time to time. But no one knows about that. Most of the talking ends up being inside jokes that no one understands.

“Cheetor this isn’t like the Riverbed incident that thing will explode. Don’t use the blow torch this time.”--Buddy

“Oh, okay then. Thanks for the heads up!”--Cheetor

“Riverbed?”--Optimus

“Inccident?”--Rhinox

“Explode?!”—Rattrap

Dinobot wants a DNA test done immediately. He firmly believes that this is some trick that everyone is on. He does respect Buddy, however. Buddy was the first Maximal to greet him with open arms with kindness that he almost forgot existed. Then there’s their brother, Rattrap. The very bane of his existence. The thorn in his side. He can’t connect the dots at all.

“Hi Dinobot!”--Buddy

“Greetings…”--Dinobot

“How’s your day been?”--Buddy

“It’s been well.”--Dinobot

A little later

Rattrap tripping Dinobot with his tail

“Eat  floor Chomperface.”--Rattrap

*Confused and angry Dinobot noises*

Tigatron and Airazor like their teammate. Like many other the others, they don’t quite understand the siblings. But they are more understanding of their dynamics. Due to them being out of the base so much any time with Buddy is cherished. Sometimes they will ‘kidnap’ Buddy from the base to catch up on the latest things with the crew or the ship.

“And what did Dinobot do after that?”--Airazor

“Well Rattrap said he started making frustrated noises after he tripped him.”--Buddy

“I’m sensing something else to the story.”--Tigatron

“Don’t know really, you guys got me out before he told me the rest.”--Buddy

Silverbolt loves Buddy. They are his platonic soulmate. They are his number one in his book of friends because Black arachnia is his number one true love. Its common occurrence to see Buddy with him if they aren’t with Rhinox, Rattrap or Cheetor. Silverbolt asks love advice from Buddy all the time. Whether Buddy is in a relationship or not, they try their best to help their friend.

 Buddy is his wingman for life.

And helps decorate places he wants to bring his love to

“Buddy! My platonic soulmate!”--Silverbolt

“Silverbolt! My bestie in love!”--Buddy

*Offended and confused Cheetah and Spider noises.*

Blackarachnia in the beginning was confused by Buddy’s entire existence. Time and time again when she was with the Predacon’s Buddy would offer her a place within the Maximal ranks. Not matter what she threw verbally or physically, Buddy was stubborn in getting her to join. When she did join, thanks to Silverbolt, she was quite jealous of Buddy’s relationship with the Maximal.

She would never admit it though.

It would be until Silverbolt mentioned how Buddy helped pick the venue and some decorations for their definitely not date, that she would ease up on the Maximal.

“You really care about him don’t you.”--Buddy

“…Yeah, I guess I do.”—Black arachnia

“Good! Now remember, no one will find you if you hurt him.”--Buddy

“What?!”—Black arachnia

“I have some energon goodies, you want some?”--Buddy

“… Yes?...”—Black arachnia

Primus help the poor soul that makes Buddy cry.

Get prepared for the Maximal beating of a lifetime. No amount of time travel will help fix the damage that will come upon that body after they are even remotely done with it.

[mecachrome]

for an incredibly new f1 follower, what would you recommend for getting up to date with teams and racers and performances and history? apart from dts lol

oh that is a good question!!! i don't think i'm even the best person to answer this but honestly i think it all comes naturally if you pick a specific thing/team/person you're interested in and set out to learn more about that topic, because everything is so connected and with time you can fill in those knowledge gaps pretty quickly :') more under the cut:

dts is imo perfectly acceptable for learning names and faces for the first time and basically creating a vague outline of a given subject (i've said it's like using duolingo for learning a new language lol), so if you watch it and are like oh—i'm interested in charles or mercedes or learning more about technical regulations or whatever, then you can just dive deeper into that via wiki / youtube / podcasts + published media + old race archives and build up from there!

otherwise i think the main thing is just to start watching the actual races when the season gets underway, and in order to properly appreciate them then also read up on + watch videos about the technical/strategy side of the sport as well. back in the day i used to really like chain bear and i still always recommend it to anyone who asks! after that i would just seek out like... a community/server/place where other people are discussing news real-time; this could be meeting people on tumblr and twitter, but personally i'm subscribed to r/formula1 because it's the most active composite source of f1 news and Discourse. if you're reddit-averse i also just keep a big list on twitter with a bunch of random data accounts, official driver/team accounts, journalists, etc. that helps me keep up with the season in a tidy fashion—though honestly f1 journalism is so unserious that you don't really need to do that because most journos regurgitate the same three quotes in slightly different formats, so if you want to follow One Guy who won't disseminate bs info i'd recommend chris medland. or just general sport publications like autosport, motosport.com, the athletic if you're already subscribed to it (pretty lacking for f1 though since it's american lol), etc... some sites like the-race are very contentious though so i'd say just tread with caution!!! on the data side i personally enjoy fdatanalysis and f1telemetrydata (i've also used f1-tempo to do my own telemetry analysis but idk if that's useful). but again i'd highly recommend the subreddit since it keeps everything i just mentioned in one place anyway 😭

other media recs:

f1tv, if it's available in your area, has pretty much everything you need to follow f1 in its entirety. i hate to shill for paid media but i genuinely think it's good; you can watch every f1, f2, f3 session real-time, as well as go to the archives and revisit old races for each series from most seasons. it also has technical shows and a whole host of minidocs with bite-sized info that are probably less sensationalized than dts. if you don't have f1tv though then a lot of decent content is cross-posted to the f1 youtube so honestly the official channels are all pretty good for keeping up with the sport.

podcasts: if you're an auditory person then podcasts are a great way to deepdive into f1 history. personally i believe that 80% of men running f1 podcasts should be legally barred from ever having an opinion on motorsport, so i don't listen to that many, but i do enjoy the official f1 podcast beyond the grid (i listen to it on spotify but you can also find full transcripts on the f1 site) since, you know, they get official personnel on and i appreciate the wide range of personalities interviewed—from drivers to tps to various types of engineers. i've also heard good things about shift+f1, the race, and engine braking, but i haven't checked them out so i'd recommend just looking podcasts up yourself and seeing what vibes with you! though some podcasts are just like... I'll eat this because you're interviewing my guy but i would never watch/listen to you otherwise. (cough pit stop...)

books & autobiographies: again if you want to dive more into old f1, then you can always read a book!! i read jenson's autobiography life to the limit earlier and was very endeared, it's a super breezy but charming read ❤️ adrian newey's memoir is also a decent overview of a clearly brilliant and accomplished mind, i enjoyed the technical details and found his early career path especially interesting.

docus, movies, tv: there's also plenty of f1 media outside of f1tv, so you can always check those out; f1 movies aren't necessarily that accurate or frankly good but sometimes it's fun just for the Vibes and the love of the sport. for ex rush (2013) covers james hunt & niki lauda's rivalry, netflix has a schumacher (2021) doc, the brawn gp miniseries ft. jense came out last november, just things like that... some current individual drivers also have their own random miniseries so you can always seek those out, for ex i watched maxv's anatomy of a champion the other day just for the fun of it LOL.

i don't know whether any of this is helpful... but maybe other people can reply with their own recommendations!!!

also if you're interested in f2, f3, etc. then honestly just follow feeder series on whatever platform since they cover everything pretty well; feeder_series on twitter, r/f1feederseries, plus they do interview podcasts on youtube/spotify so i like watching those to keep up with young drivers. you can also watch chasing the dream for succinct f2 narratives; it used to only be on f1tv but it gets uploaded on youtube now so it's fairly accessible. lmk if you have any other questions or something specific you'd like more info about!!!

[olderthannetfic]

How I would do 2023 ship stats

You know, normally, I don't bother to do much with top AO3 ships stats. That's partly because someone already does it and partly because I think they're stupid stats that just lead to people gloating about their blorbos "winning". But I do routinely have a look at what's new and popular when I'm doing things like making a dance party playlist for Escapade Con, just so I know what fans might be getting into lately. I have to say, collecting these is not hard. It's not even particularly time consuming.

Doing it super efficiently would be easier with a script, yes, but most fandom stats aren't actually collected with scripts, and if you're only looking for the top 100 ships, you can more or less do that by hand. How I would set about it for you, the random fan who's curious but not curious enough to learn to code, would be to log into AO3 and then find tags where you can see the sidebar. They should be tags that encompass the whole archive and that are mandatory and unique… in other words, ratings.

Since every AO3 work must have one and only one rating, you can just check these five and get a good sense of what's on there. There are some minor wrinkles to iron out, but it's a good preliminary research step.

The way you want to do it is to start with a spreadsheet. Open up your ratings URLs (and also paste them in the spreadsheet for convenience—google sheets will make clickable links). Copy all the sidebar top ships into a list. Filter out all of these ships. Copy the next set, etc. After a while, you'll have a good list that's longer than 100 ships but that most likely contains everything really popular. (Filter for things posted/updated/whatever in the past year if that's the data you're after. Filter for f/f or whatever topic you're interested in if that's the question you're asking instead.)

Use your spreadsheet to generate the actual links for each of these ships. AO3 URLs are predictable: you can generate them from knowing the exact spelling of the tag and the normal format of this type of URL. (There are a bunch of standard spreadsheet functions that can be used to get rid of the work count numbers you've copied from AO3 to get just the pure ship tags. I'd use things like =right() and =left().)

Open the links. Copy the work totals back to your spreadsheet. Voilà!

One drawback of this method is, obviously, that it's boring and tedious, but if you didn't like boring and tedious, why were you collecting fandom stats anyway?

A more important drawback is that in using exclude filters, it's possible you could miss a ship. If the posting patterns are just right, there might be something that has its numbers reduced by excluding other ships that should be on your list. You could have a similar issue if the ships on your list are mostly one rating (so higher in those searches) and some other slightly larger overall ship is spread more evenly. I would try to ameliorate this problem by looking at the sizes of the smallest ships you're covering. They will likely be bigger than the entire fandom section for most fandoms. Taking another look at the bigger fandoms that could be hiding a small-end-of-big ship can help double-check that you haven't missed anything. Grabbing the top 130 or 150 ships in some search while only looking for the top 100 will likely find most of the edge stuff too.

Add any ships that look like they should be double checked to your spreadsheet. Add their work totals. Re-sort your list.

Another thing to consider is that AO3 keeps track of the most recent update date on fics. That's what's easy to search by. If you're only interested in when a work was first posted, easy manual filtering isn't the way to go… However, if the objective is to see which ship tags were active in a given year, most recent update date is the relevant piece of data anyway.

You're not going to recreate centreoftheselights' exact analysis unless you collect data year to year, but you can come up with something pretty similar that answers a similar question, and you don't need to be a programmer to do it.

In the end, accept that some data require hard collection methods that a site doesn't easily offer you and you might have to scrape multiple times a year with a script if you want to know that particular thing… or you might have to randomly sample and hand-count as with FFN shipping stats. (Yes, I've done it. It can be done. It's just annoying.)

So when you're setting out to look at some stats question, the big first step is to decide what you're even asking and why and whether you're just wimping out and going with what's easy to collect instead of what you actually want to know.

...now I'm kind of curious. Maybe I'll go pull some 2023 numbers.

[mbti-notes]

Anon wrote: I'm an ENFP, I'm 30 years old and I’m really needing to work on my self-confidence for me and for dealing with people. I’ve read in our blogs some posts that reinforce the importance of developing skills to have confidence. I think it's very legitimate.

In this process of learning new things, I often find myself in great difficulty and my inner child agonizes with insecurity. I look at friends who have confidence in themselves as something natural: confidence that they will learn, confidence in themselves, but unfortunately I am very unstructured (poor growth environment, without incentives), so I have a lot of difficulty trusting myself: especially being so inexperienced, clumsy and slow to learn everything.

What gets worse is being in environments where people don't have patience with beginners. Like now I'm living in a foreign country where people are very rude in the workplace. This hurts me a lot, because I have problems asserting myself and being respected. I discovered that they need rudeness to respect others. How to deal with this? Would I be able to impose myself without getting nervous and acting rude (as they usually have to do)?

And more, how can we learn from this situation? How can I be truly confident and also how can I simply demonstrate more confidence to make myself respected? I'm tired of conveying weakness. People don't value my sweetness it's not a good tool for me right now. How to develop self-confidence, at least start to demonstrate a little confidence and boundaries! And in the midst of this, the most important thing: how do you deal with such unpleasant people? Especially me being used to being such a sweet, "silly" person, always with my guard down, calm and considered weak by others.

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

You seem to be talking about two issues that need unpacking separately: 1) personality, and 2) confidence.

You're having a personality clash with the people at work. Analytical psychology posits that personality clashes are disturbing because they remind you of negative things in yourself you dislike, so there is a need to go within to see what's really happening.

To be clear, I'm not denying that toxic people/environments exist. I believe your description and I would certainly dislike the workplace myself. The point I'm making is, when you have no choice but to be in that sort of environment, there are healthier ways to navigate it, but being judgmental about people is not a healthy way. Judgmentalness is a sign of projection, which is an unhealthy defense mechanism, see previous posts on the topic.

One basic thing type theory teaches us is there are different people in this world. Therefore, one must always begin with acceptance of differences, if one hopes to have healthy relationships in every realm of life. You've come to identify with the so-called "sweet" aspects of your personality. When you identify with one side of yourself, you tend to unconsciously valorize that side, otherwise, you might end up hating yourself. However, in the process of valorizing that side, you inadvertently end up denying, devaluing, dismissing, or denigrating its opposite. It's no accident that these "rude" people trigger you. They bring to light your unconscious self-rejections.

Workplace = professionalism. To succeed in any workplace, it's important to set a clear boundary between private and public. It isn't appropriate to use the workplace to hash out personal issues. E.g. It's not a place to play games about who you favor or dislike. It's not a place to seek validation to soothe your insecurities. I would even argue it's not a great place to seek friendship or companionship. When you bring the personal into the professional, you are more likely to create mess, drama, discord, and conflict. Of course, there are people who live for messiness. Ask yourself exactly what role you want work to play in your life and behave in accordance with those values/principles in every workplace.

When you describe yourself in mostly positive terms ("sweet") and describe other people in very negative terms like "rude", "impatient", or "unpleasant", there is a possibility that you are biased. Typism is a bias. It means you believe some personalities/traits to be superior or inferior to others. ENFPs typically hope to get along well with all sorts of people. If you hope for that, you need to eliminate typist thinking. This requires learning to always approach people in a neutral/professional manner, even when you dislike them at first. You don't know the full story behind people. Oftentimes, the majority of people in toxic environments are just like you, i.e., struggling to survive and doing whatever it takes to keep out of trouble.

When you approach people in a neutral/professional manner, you should adopt an objective perspective about them. Yes, you see their faults, but you shouldn't lose sight of their redeeming qualities. When you're being judgmental, you're likely to dismiss people whole-hog, unable to see their redeeming qualities. Being blind to the positive means you lose opportunities for improving the situation, which means losing hope, which means losing self-confidence as you feel more and more passive and helpless.

How about, instead of using the word "rude", call them "direct" or "candid"? Instead of "impatient", how about "efficient"? When you use more neutral language to characterize people, you reinforce the idea that every personality trait has its pros and cons. When you can finally visualize the upside, you can harness it to your advantage. This allows you to let go of negative feelings and focus on the work itself. Nobody is asking you to marry these people. All you have to do is work with them long enough to get stuff done. Keep your feelings to yourself and stick only to the facts. Once work is done, go home, put it out of your mind, and get on with the rest of your life. If there are things you need to learn to improve your performance in the workplace, spend time on self-improvement outside of work in order to speed up your progress.

.

With regard to confidence, when people bring up "lack of confidence", they often conflate several different concepts including: self-confidence, self-efficacy, self-esteem, and self-worth. It can be a complicated topic, so I'll elaborate on it for future reference. Some non-native English speakers have mentioned to me that their native tongue doesn't have direct translations for these four concepts, so beware that language might be a barrier for understanding them.

These four terms are relatively new in English as well; it wasn't until recently that they've started to filter down from academia into mainstream vocabulary. We know that these four concepts are distinct because, in the course of examining people who fall broadly under the category of "confidence issues", psychologists discovered that different people had somewhat different underlying processes happening, e.g., you could be good with one but struggle with the others. Of course, over time, how people use these terms in everyday language gets fuzzy, as the meaning diverges from the original academic definitions. I'll explain my understanding of them. You specifically mention learning issues, so I'll also connect to that.

I. SELF-CONFIDENCE arises from the degree to which you feel in control. If you 1) have good self-control, 2) feel as though you mostly have control over the direction of your life, and 3) feel as though you have enough control over your environment, then you're likely to feel self-confident. Thus, reflect on whether you feel some deficits in any of the above. There are things you can do to get a firmer sense of control.

Self-control is sometimes related to discipline, which means the ability to delay immediate gratification for a more important future goal. If you tend to be spontaneous, impulsive, or rebellious, then it's easy for you to lose sight of the bigger picture and it's hard for you to follow good learning procedures, which can easily derail your learning process. Some ways to improve your self-control over time:

improve your big-picture thinking so that you don't forget about your ultimate goal (through Ne)

learn the value of following good methods/procedures for achieving a goal (stop resisting Si)

structure your environment more intentionally to eliminate distractions/temptations and reward progress (tap into Te)

Having enough control over the direction of your life often relates to your ability to make good decisions. If you tend to be very emotional, indecisive, or easily overwhelmed by too much information, then it indicates you don't have a good system for processing the information required to inform your decisions. One way to improve your information processing ability is to improve your critical thinking skills. Critical thinking involves parsing information correctly, understanding its meaning, and systematizing information, in service of determining the best course of action (see past posts and recommended books). When learning, not being able to organize information and create feasible plans means slow progress.

Feeling a sense of control over the environment is often related to problem-solving skills. What happens when you meet a problem or challenge? Anxiety? Panic? Anger? Spiraling out of control? To have good problem-solving skills involves: deducing cause and effect, analyzing situations objectively, drawing valid conclusions, and generating good ideas and action-plans. Problem-solving is an important part of the critical thinking skills mentioned above. The process of learning is never completely smooth. You are bound to meet challenges and obstacles, so how do you address them? Self-confident people don't tend to focus on how they feel about problems, rather, they mostly focus on the problem itself and try to solve it as quickly as possible. When the problem is gone, the negative feelings go away.

II. SELF-EFFICACY arises from the degree to which you have faith in yourself, specifically your abilities. Efficacy means being able to bring forth an intended result (effectively) or reach an intended goal (efficiently). When you meet a problem/challenge, do you believe you have enough knowledge and skill to overcome it? If so, you have good self-efficacy. If not, do you believe, with enough dedicated learning and improvement, you can overcome it eventually? That is also good self-efficacy. In essence, it means you believe in yourself, with regard to possessing the resources or being able to obtain the resources necessary to succeed in reaching your goals.

Self-efficacy is sometimes related to competency and mastery. Being young and inexperienced, it's normal to have lower self-efficacy than someone older and wiser. In the learning process, it's important to have compassion for yourself and evaluate your progress fairly. Is the level of competency/mastery you expect from yourself proportional to the reality of your situation? If you haven't had many learning opportunities, through no fault of your own, then you shouldn't feel ashamed for being a bit "behind". This is NOT a personal flaw/failing that deserves punishment.

Note that "ahead" or "behind" are relative terms, meaning they can be understood from different perspectives, so are you using the right perspective? For example, are you evaluating yourself through your own eyes, through the eyes of your rivals, or through the eyes of an expert on the subject matter? Use fair and reasonable benchmarks/standards to measure where you are and where you should be. One reason people of any age suffer self-doubt is because they are too honest about what they don't know or can't do, to the point where they become dismissive of what they do know and can do. It's very important to be objective and balanced when assessing what you lack by also fully recognizing what you already possess or have achieved so far.

In my humble opinion, I believe people already possess everything they need to have good self-efficacy. Human beings evolved to be adaptable and that is largely how they have succeeded as a species. You have the capacity to learn and adapt to your environment. Get back in touch with it, have faith in it, and harness it as necessary. Instead of thinking there's only ONE WAY things should/must go, be more flexible and open to alternatives (use Ne).

III. SELF-ESTEEM refers to how you generally feel about yourself. This is usually related to the kinds of beliefs you have about yourself and the part they play in constructing your self-concept. The beliefs you have about yourself (e.g. about who you are and what you are capable of) are heavily influenced by your past experiences.

One of the most common signs of low self-esteem is negative self-talk. Observe the kinds of things you say to yourself in your head. Is it mostly negative, neutral, or positive? If it's mostly negative, how are you meant to feel good about yourself? People with low self-esteem say very nasty things to themselves that they would never dream of saying to others. Why the double standard? As a "sweet" person, you have empathy for others, so be sure to extend the same empathy to yourself.

An example related to learning: I've unfortunately known too many students to abandon a subject simply because one of their (jerkass) teachers told them they would never be good at it. The negative experience led them to form the belief that "they weren't meant to study it" and couldn't succeed even if they tried. Every time they encountered the subject, the belief would rise up and they'd talk themselves out of trying. Of course, watching themselves fall further and further behind through repeated failures made them feel worse and worse about themselves. Self-esteem can be damaged in a vicious cycle: By believing the worst of yourself, you aren't properly motivated to learn and improve, and then you meet failure after failure, which then confirms your negative beliefs about yourself.

One good way to tackle low self-esteem is cognitive-behavioral therapy. A cognitive-behavioral therapist is trained to bring to light your underlying beliefs (and how they interact with your feelings and behaviors). By bringing unrealistic beliefs into consciousness, you open up space to change them or adjust them to be better aligned with reality. Perhaps you need to reflect on the beliefs you have about yourself, regarding who you are/aren't, who you're supposed/not supposed to be, what you hope/don't hope to be, what you are/aren't capable of, etc. Are your beliefs attuned to your current reality? Negative past experiences don't have to dictate your future, but they will if you're unaware of how they still influence you today.

IV. SELF-WORTH refers to feeling "good enough", specifically whether you believe you are worthy of acceptance and love. When you're young, your sense of self-worth arises in large part from how you were regularly treated by the people around you. If you grew up in an environment where love was conditional, then your self-worth likely became tied to those conditions. For example, if your parents only show you love when you get As in school, it's likely that your self-worth will become tied to your academic performance and future professional success.

Self-worth can also be damaged in a vicious cycle. If you believe you aren't worthy of love, then you signal to others that it's okay to treat you poorly, which reinforces the idea that you aren't worthy. One common way people defend against low self-worth is to make themselves into something "better" or more "worthy" to their social environment, or to obtain something they can offer in exchange for social validation of their worth (e.g. wealth or status). This striving can lead to problems with overachieving, perfectionism, anxiety, depression, self-blame, or self-harm.

One common way to tell if you suffer self-worth issues is if you are often engaged in social comparison that leads you to envy people you deem somehow "superior" to you and/or feel shame about being "inferior" to them. If that's the case, it's likely that you need to correct some faulty thinking patterns:

Don't make illogical comparisons, such as comparing your first step against someone else's thousandth step. These kinds of illogical comparisons exacerbate feelings of unworthiness. You're inflicting pain upon yourself by thinking this way.

Don't be superficial and judge people only by their cover. Remember, you don't really know what someone went through to get where they are today. Perhaps if you knew the full story, their situation wouldn't seem very enviable at all. Maybe you want to play golf as well as Tiger Woods, but would you also want to give up your childhood and constantly suffer harsh treatment as he did?

Don't expect that every person should be the same, know the same things, have the same abilities, live the same life, etc. Respect individuality, which means allow for differences between yourself and others. Understand that everyone has their own path in life rather than believing everyone should conform to the same crude standard (i.e. avoid Te loop).

Do you desperately need everyone to like you or think you're great? Wanting the approval of toxic people is basically granting them power over you. Don't hurt yourself by trying to become something you're not just because someone triggered your insecurity. Insecurity is your problem, not their problem. It is the insecurity itself you need to face up to by reflecting on where it really comes from and what it says about your ability to accept and love yourself as you are (this is related to problems with Fi development in ENFPs).

What many people with low self-worth don't understand is that self-worth starts from within; it doesn't come from the people out there. When you're able to accept and love yourself and stand proud in who you are (without all those "conditions" that were imposed upon you earlier in life), you'll then be capable of teaching others to respect you. With healthy pride in yourself, it's far easier to be assertive, set boundaries, and advocate for your needs. Why? Because you firmly believe you matter, you have a right to the space you inhabit, you have a right to be yourself, and you deserve to be treated as an equal. It's also easier to ignore, dismiss, or eject toxic people when you finally realize that you don't need or want anything from them.

All four of these concepts relate to how you perceive and evaluate yourself, but from different angles. You mention feeling insecure, but which of the above gets closer to the root of the issue? It's important to be more precise about identifying the problem if you hope to come up with the right solution.

[renyen808]

A Date with Death: How is this Game FREE?!

Lately, the video game industry has taken a turn. When it comes to purchasing high-end games, instead of the $50 amount that I used to pay, I find that now games can cost upwards of $80, which to me is ridiculous. I mean, clearly with the success of Baulder’s Gate 3, they show that they can make an amazing, complex, and fun-filled game for $60. I can already hear people saying, ‘Well, if you want the Deluxe version, that is $80.’ Yes, it is, but it is worth it when you can play the game over and over again and have a different adventure each time. I will write a blog post later about Baulder’s Gate 3, but let’s just say I am a huge fan. Unlike games that require you to not only buy the equipment, but the game itself cough Spider-Man 2 cough. I personally never played Spider-Man 2 and I heard it is great, but it is absurd to me that I have to have a PS5 in order to play one game. Anyway, I am getting off topic a little, the point is, games are getting expensive in the mainstream and I just want something fun to play with me having to pay little to no money. I was searching through Steam when I found it, the game I am about to talk about: A Date With Death.

(Credit: Steam)

A Date with Death, which was released on December 7th of last year, is a texting and chatting based game where you are talking to a Grim Reaper created by Two and a Half Studios. You are able to communicate through text messaging and video calls for the majority of the game, with at least one chat and video call per in-game day. You can customize your own character, choosing from an array of different outfits, skin tones, hairstyles and colors, facial attributes and accessories. You can also choose your pronouns, your first and last name, and pet. You can also customize your in-game apartment with all sorts of things, such as polaroids or plants. 

(Credit: Two and a Half Studios)

At the point I am writing this, I have completed the game, obtained every ending, and got every Steam achievement available. I played the game a total of four times and received a different ending each time. There are many different requirements that you have to do to complete each ending, and while, during the game, it could seem confusing, once you figure out how Grim, that’s what I will call the Grim Reaper, reacts to your words, then you’ll be able to change the course of the story. Although this game only goes for seven in-game days, they find many ways to pack it with content. I have a total of 26.6 hours on the game (honestly, some of it is from it being idle), but that shows you just how much I played it. Before we continue, I also want to add that this game does have swearing and some suggestive content, but I think that can be assumed because this is a romance visual novel. Nothing NSFW shows up in the game. 

Also, before we continue, I have to admit that I got the DLC for this game, which was $7. It adds more dialogue and different choices you can make in your character’s appearance, so there is that. However, I can tell what was a part of the base game, thanks to a little star next to the new dialogue (I honestly thought it was saying he likes those the most, that is not the case for some of the choices). What I am saying by bringing up that I purchased the DLC is that you do not need it in order to enjoy the game. It really is great without it at its core. 

It helps that Grim himself, to me, is pretty cute. I love his snark and charm and instantly understood that that is what the developers were going for. His outfit is also unique. He is wearing a jacket, but it’s around his shoulders. He also has white hair (LOVE) and red eyes, because of course. He is video calling from his bedroom, and he is usually slouching like he is in the image on Steam. Sometimes he will perk up and blush and stuff, but he is normally guarded when he is on call with you. He will also message you in different styles since he is learning to talk with a mortal, so there is that little bit of information. Oh, I forgot, you can also completely customize your in-chat profile, changing the image and name, but only after an in-game event. 

(Credit: Steam)

The artwork in this game is absolutely stunning for a free game as well. I cannot believe how gorgeous it is. They give you a gallery, which shows all the different images of Grim and what the previsuals looked like before the in-game counterparts. They give a lot of artwork and put a lot of love into the game and I appreciate it so much. I really enjoy when I see people put their heart and soul into games they create because it shows that they love what they do. It doesn’t feel like a cash grab, but rather a passion project that they can build more off of.

(Credit: Two and a Half Studios)

Speaking of that, currently, there is a DLC expansion planned for the game. There is currently no release date at the time of this post, but I can assure you, once it comes out, I will be one of the first ones to purchase and review it! 

A Date with Death, a free game where you chat and romance the Grim Reaper was a lot more fun than I anticipated it to be. I found myself going back and wanting to complete everything instead of it feeling like a chore to achieve all the endings and achievements. While I don’t think I’ll play it again right away, once the new content comes out, you best believe I will return to Grim and our adventures. In the end, play this game. I honestly think this is a well made game for FREE, and I believe anybody will have a fun time with it. 

Also, sorry for the lack of images this time around! I don't wanna spoil anything for you all ;)

[hoursofreading]

I still remember Mr. Walz’s AP Geography class. Seventeen years later.

In Mr. Walz’s class, we tackled the topic of sovereignty with the same intensity that John Randle tackled Brett Farve. My classmates' excitement for AP Geography might seem ludicrous to an outsider, but Mr. Walz had that type of reputation. He would start classes like most teachers, and we followed his lesson plan. But as a class, we eventually learned that if someone asked the right question, Mr. Walz would just answer. And then he would keep answering. He made no secret that sometimes he was not certain, but he would get back to us. We never really kept track until someone did. And then we all started keeping track.

Eager to engage with an adult who actively engaged with us, we quickly discovered that Mr. Walz was a total badass. He was a Master Sergeant in the Army National Guard — he also happens to be the highest-ranked enlisted officer to ever serve in Congress — and he taught in China through WorldTeach. This program was started in 1986 by Harvard University students and partners with governments to provide volunteer teachers to meet local needs and promote responsible global citizenship. Just to reiterate in modern terms, Tim Walz worked for an education startup in China at the end of the Reagan era. Eventually, both Walz’s spent summers taking high schoolers from the Mankato area to visit and learn about China.

A Map of China — Call Out to Joe Rstom & Mr. Ihrig’s World History Class ;)

But in 2001, Mr. Walz answered my AP Geography class’s questions and did not waste time. We talked about where Mr. Walz saw the United States from the perspective of his world travels. This was an AP course, after all. He did his best to respond but didn’t sugarcoat. He explained that what America had done for the world over the past few centuries was remarkable and that we should be proud. But our behavior as a country was not always perfect. As the bell rang for lunch, he summarized his thoughts quickly by saying, “I can’t tell you the where or when, but I think something will happen, and America may not be ready for it.” We went off to eat lunch. Adults say the darndest things.

The actual next day, per my memories, my daily structured reading was interrupted to inform of a plane that had crashed into the Twin Towers. Those were in New York, right? I did not see the events live on TV. But I didn’t have to. It was the only thing on the news for months after. Years after. Decades after. This July, I saw the planes crash into the twin towers while visiting the Fritz Koenig retrospective at the Uffizi galleries in Florence, Italy. How can one watch the wanton destruction of so much life and not see it live?

Every. Single. Time.

But two hours later, on September 11th, in Mr. Walz’s room, we were a tension made form. We had stayed in school, but speculation ran rampant through the halls about that state as a continuance. Despite this, we were also model behavior made form — because Mr. Walz was there.

We all remembered what he had said.

But, on September 11th, Mr. Walz didn’t know what to say. His statement the day before had been a coincidence. Like the rest of us, Mr. Walz had many emotions, chief among them a curiosity about what the U.S. Government would do in response.

As with many educational institutions, the events of September 11th ripped our school apart. Among other obvious topics, in Mr. Walz’s class, we discussed the League of Nations and why it failed. We discussed the United Nations and where it was failing. Too we discussed how the nature of treaties established within the United Nations functioned so all nations could make plans. How productive could a country be if they were chronically looking to see who might invade them or take its livelihoods?

You, the reader, might be well situated to ask, “How important are treaties anyway?” I suppose my only answer would be to relate that around June 11, 1776, the Continental Congress, while preparing to secede from Britain, resolved to create three committees for three tasks: The creation of the Declaration of Independence, the creation of the Articles of Confederation, and the creation of a “Model Treaty” to guide foreign relations. These men were going to war. And Treaties were right up there. Right near the top.

But I am still so grateful for that school year. Because Mr. Walz helped me understand something that was not obvious about treaties. At least to a teenage boy who rarely left Minnesota. During our discussions, I wondered aloud how any nation would be held to account if they violated their treaties. Mr. Walz duly responded to the current state of international relations, explaining the United Nations Security Council, warts and all. But something still did not sit right with me. If this system was the world’s most tried and true solution, why were there still so many humanitarian issues tremoring the fault lines of the world?

“Mr. Walz,” I asked. “Why does any nation have to adhere to these treaties?”

“You know, Kyle,” Mr. Walz responded, “it’s almost like we wrote this lesson plan together. Because they don’t.” When your parents are teachers, you see the work that goes into a lesson plan, and this was the best compliment I ever received in high school.

As discussed much earlier, sovereignty applies to nations but also people. Understanding that no nation, and no person, is necessarily obligated to anything is a life lesson. And Mr. Walz gave life lessons to his students. Because Mr. Walz is a teacher. And not just because it looks cute on a placard or as a tagline in some political ad. Mr. Walz was one of a family of teachers at Mankato West High School that dared to look me in the eye to explain the world we both lived in.

But yes. I got to discuss the nature of treaties and politics with the man currently running for Governor in Minnesota right after September 11th. Totally. Normal. Right? Well yeah, it was. He was my AP Geography teacher then. Because Mr. Walz didn’t use 9/11 as his springboard into politics — that event came years later.

As you’ll remember, Mrs. Walz is a teacher too. She most certainly knew about that idealized American Scholar Emerson so greatly cherished in his speech when Mr. Walz and a group of Mankato West students were unceremoniously interrogated at a George W. Bush rally after one student was found to have a John Kerry sticker on his wallet.

And that is all I know about it.

[osoreee]

I was surprised to stumble across a page like yours. You support a lot of the beliefs I share, beliefs about did and how the demedicalization of it is incredibly harmful, the misinformation and age discrepancy that seems to be plaguing tumblr. I’ll assume you’ve been diagnosed for about six months since that’s how long your discovery had been in your pinned message.

While I appreciate what your blog is trying to do and while I support it, lemme say a few things.

Careful leaning too much into that plural identity. The same way you dislike young introject heavy high alter count systems making did their entire personality, be sure to give yourself the same grace as far as your disorder is concerned. You’re a person first and foremost, and your other parts don’t define you.

If you are diagnosed, remember that life gets a bit more complicated than stagnant alter counts. Genuine diagnosed and in treatment systems can have a high count, can have introjects, and can present in a way that isn’t what you support.

If you aren’t diagnosed, Godspeed on getting a treatment that works for you, and remember that people with did who have been diagnosed for years can exhibit those signs that you don’t support.

Just leave yourself room to learn with the community you’re now a part of and be safe.

This isn’t meant to be a criticism, I’m genuinely excited to see where this page goes, with the idea that you’re open to learning in mind.

Best regards.

Thanks! I don't really know what to say to this but I really really appreciate these words. Even though the whole discovery happend 6months ago, I didn't interact properly with the community until I made this blog. So I'm still learning a lot as we go. Before that I heard a lot of skeptical opinions about a lot of stuff and it mixed me up a bit. Skeptism was influenced by someone who made me view some of the symptoms as exaggerated in other people. I got into community of people that were fakers. And no Im not accusing them of it since they admitted to it. But I won't get into it much. This made me very skeptical about every person who claims to have DID. I dont see it as a bad thing though. I think that in Internet everyone should keep in mind that someone might not be 100% honest obviously also gotta keep it healthy so that's why I'm not fakeclaiming anyone.

My plurality is not my whole personality at all. In fact in my private life only 2 people know about it. My partner who knows the most, and my best friend who only knows I'm plural and some of my trauma. However, I don't talk much about it with them if at all. I dont want to overwhelm them with it because this topic is heavy and not nice to listen about.

Thats why this blog was created. I needed someone to relate to, I wanted to listen about people sharing their experiences to know I'm not alone in it. I wanted a space where no one knows me and I can talk about anything and everything related to my system. My partner knows I have a blog but doesn't know anything other than this. Im happy with that, I really needed a space where I can be alone with people who have been through similar experiences as me.

I am a person yes, my alters don't define me. But its nice to have an opportunity to talk about my feelings in this topic for once. With people who know more than me, to get their opinions, experiences, new facts about systems and how different one from the other is. I love to learn about all of it. I'm very open to change my opinions about various topics here. But only if its presented to me with respect and im provided with valid sources that support it.

Thanks again and im happy that you're staying :>

[thepodcasthoard]

Podcast Intro Script Template & Tips to Open With a Bang- The Podcast Host

Part 1 l Part 2 l Part 3 l Part 4 l Part 5 l Part 6 l Part 7 l Part 8 l Part 9 l Part 10 l Part 11 l Part 12 l Part 13 l Part 14 l Part 15 l Part 16 l Part 17 l Part 18 l Part 19 l Part 20 l Part 21 l Part 22 l Part 23 l Part 24

The twenty-fifth article Sydney gave me is all about writing intros and outros.

The article makes a great first point- every episode will be some listener's first. Not everyone goes back to the very first episode, some listen to just the trailer or the most recent one because that's generally the first one that's highlighted by their listening app of choice.

Those new listeners will have absolutely no loyalty to you in a great majority of cases, and so you must make it clear to them a few things: what your show is about, the tone of your show, and why they should listen.

There aren't any rigid rules for intros, but there are helpful tips. Things like your name, the name of the show, who the podcast is for, and the overall theme. By 'theme,' the article means what the podcast is about, the problem(s) you're solving, and how the podcast is conducted (solo or interviews with guests for example).

The problem your podcast is solving can be hard to pin down, but you aren't beholden to one singular problem, just a broad one. The article gives its own podcast, Podcraft, as an example. It's a podcast that helps people start their own podcast. Every episode deals with a different question about that topic, from microphones and equipment to how to monetize.

The article also provides a template for an intro: “Hello and welcome to the [blank] podcast; this is the show for [blank], all about [blank], and on this episode, have you ever struggled with [blank]? well, that’s exactly what we’re going to help you with on this week’s show, where you’ll learn how to [blank].”

Now, that may seem to be more geared towards an educational podcast, but you can tweak it to serve your podcast better.

The article also mentions something called a 'cold open,' which means that you drop the listener into the most interesting part of the conversation before you intro the show. Here's a more in-depth article about that technique.

Intros aren't the only thing covered in this article- outros are, too. Think of them together as bookends- they bracket your show and help make it seem more complete. Outros ease the listener out of the episode and intrigues them for the next one.

Thank your listener here! They spent some of their precious time with you, and you should show your appreciation. There's also a theory that suggests that the high point of the content isn't the only thing listeners remember- they also remember the end of it. As a side note from me, that reminded me of TV shows- how many have had really unsatisfying season or even season endings, something that ruins any rewatch? You do not want that for your podcast.

You can also add a call to action here- if your listener stuck around, that means they enjoyed the content. Asking for a follow for the podcast or on social media isn't a big ask for them, and they might do it.

Both intros and outros should be thirty seconds or less each, according to this article. That makes sense to me- if you drag it out, you'll just encourage listeners to skip forward.

[centi-pedve]

we understand why people demand others to read about certain historical events or to read certain books relevant to a movement because education is important but we wish people considered the fact that most people cannot do that, plainly.

and resisting the fact that most people cannot do that is ignorant of how disability and capitalism can limit people. we know it sucks that most people will not be as educated as you want them to be. but the moment you demand people read a 400 page book about a movement that's not their primary focus is the moment that you have lost the focus of most people. not because they're lazy or they hate you and they hate everyone like you, but because they're human beings and literally every other movement has demanded the exact same of them.

we know a 400 page book is a joke to certain people but man that's a whole ass investment for someone who doesn't have the time to just sit down and read or someone who is disabled in certain ways. for a LOT of people its hard to read books they ENJOY.

and we want people to Really Think about why they recommend certain books. is there a certain message that's relevant? put the message in your own words and explain how it connects to the topic at hand. does it reference a historical event or figure? teach about the event in an engaging way. (if you can, maybe make some kind of infographic or comic. those tend to be easier to understand and very engaging for people). does it evoke a certain feeling or perspective? most who pick it up will already understand those feelings or perspectives, and it's not inherently necessary or something that can't be expressed through other forms of storytelling. what is valuable in the book you want to recommend and how can you share that knowledge in a way that more people can learn from? thats one of the things activists do! they read the thick shit so others don't have to, and then take the key ideas and educate others on them in a way where even a passerby can learn something new.

[badmusejail]

(prev)

Gaster woke up coughing.

He didn't even remember falling asleep in the chair, but that was far from the most important topic at the moment.

The coughing didn't stop, accompanied by a burning sensation deep inside his chest--the feeling defied explanation, but it was close enough to the imagined sensation of someone shoving a blade through his bone and then trying to pry it in two.

He folded his hands over his mouth, tears forming at the corner of his eyes as he tried to suppress his trembling.

He could breathe, at least--a small mercy that didn't last long as he soon fell back into coughing.

Another reprieve and he opened his eyes, shaking, and withdrew his hands. They were speckled with black.

It could only mean one thing. His body was not physical; he had no lungs in which anything could come out of. No--this could only mean that something was wrong with his very SOUL; an unknown substance that was trying to latch onto it, his SOUL desperately trying to reject and eject the unknown thing.

Horror and dread crept upon him, understanding that his SOUL was in a fight for its very life.

Terror and panic seized hold as Gaster did the only thing that felt logical at that moment. Closing his eyes and balling his hands into fists, he called upon his magic, pulling it around his SOUL.

He could feel it--the natural, gentle pulsing interrupted by something foreign and lopsided, squirming lightly beneath the touch of magic and coiled around his SOUL.

A parasite. That was the only word he could think of for it. It was one of those things that you learn about, like the planets that rained acid, or the mind-controlling species that hide in forests, the type of thing that you acknowledged existed, but never imagined actually encountering. Maybe your cousin's friend did, or your friend's husband's brother-in-law, or a celebrity on the news, but not you.

Where the fuck did it come from?

Gaster really wasn't well versed in the medical field, and logically speaking, it was probably the worst course of action, but panic and terror doesn't abide by logic, so he focused his magic around that thing with intent to rip it off.

...but as his magic closed in around it; there was a noise, a low, guttural sort of growling and the end of that parasite lifted; shifted into two long fangs that it plunged straight into his SOUL.

The screech he made was ungodly, even to his own ears, focus on the magic instantly lost as nothing but agony pulsed through the very core of his being. It was somehow pure ice yet searing hot; ripping through his SOUL and sending echoes of misery through every inch of his body. There was nothing he could do but thrash meaninglessly, as the sensation of being ripped asunder and set on fire ate at him from inside out.

He could only imagine that this was what death felt like--the annihilation of the SOUL, the complete cessation of existence as the body crumbled to dust.

How odd it was that thoughts were so clear, that time moved so slow, during these moments of extreme duress.

Was this the fate that the his crew had suffered? Consumed from the inside out by some unidentified thing?

The burning faded to a gentle numbness; neither hot nor cold; almost soothing in its emptiness as it spread from his chest to neck, to arms, to legs; to head, to hands, and feet.

Somehow, he was still alive.

Laying on the floor, now; no doubt having thrown himself from the chair in his frenzy, spread out on his back, blankly staring up at that cracked ceiling with his half-dark vision.

Talk about a bad day.

HOST.

It was a sort of telepathic thought; the type that wasn't spoken words but rather a rudimentary concept flung into the mind to be processed and broken down on a level that could be understood. It was accompanied by a strange, "affectionate" sort of cooing that nonetheless made Gaster cringe, tensing against the metal floor.

No.

Gaster could only imagine that it understood his aimless response; for that saccharine noise stopped. There was no reply, worded or otherwise--and something electric sparked through him, cutting through that blissful numbness. His body arced against the floor, far too abused to let out any noise beyond a small squeak. It was short-lived and he fell back to the floor with a thud, wisps of fire still licking at him from within; a coil of pressure in his chest that made it hard to breathe.

There was a sensation of the thing watching--glaring, even--from its unseen hiding place within him, an icy scrutiny that cut through bone and thoughts.

He thought that it might be a good idea to not piss off the thing currently burrowed in his SOUL.

For as urgent as the situation was, it was awfully difficult to get his body to understand that without an immediate external threat to respond to. For as much as he should be looking at the navigational systems, or trying to rig together an S.O.S., all he could manage to do was lay there, dragging in uneven breathes. He felt sluggish, peaceful even, as his head lolled to the side.

HUNGRY.

With the practiced ease of blocking out any sort of telepathic communication, Gaster shoved the intrusive thought aside, having absolutely no interest in talking to a parasite.

...that being said, it did have a point. He had no idea how long he'd been unconscious out here, not eating since before they departed, and now that he was aware of it, he couldn't ignore the gnawing hunger. Luckily, monsters didn't have the complex nutritional requirements that humans and other creatures did, merely taking in a sufficient amount of magic was generally enough to sustain them, but they still needed some amount of input to sustain their operations--or the body would slowly start to use the energy of the SOUL itself to sustain basic life, eventually draining HP to zero and, essentially, starving to death just as a physical being would.

Not that it mattered as there was nothing to eat on the ship.

Why would there be? This was a routine test-flight, scheduled to take no longer than 15 minutes. In the worst case scenario even, backup was a radio call away, rescue taking at most a day to arrive depending on how urgent their other calls were.

But he supposed that only applied to the worst case scenario they could think of.

Thinking...too much thinking.

His eyes drifted shut.

[sweetswesf]

Hey hey, y’all.

I’m mad Tumblr STILL hasn’t responded to any of my support tickets to get my messaging back. As an engineer, I am criticizing the app in a different way than most lol. There’s a lot of cool things with the UI, but the way you can’t separate primary & secondary blogs, some of the playback, the slow or no responses on support tickets is kinda getting to me. I didn’t think it’d frustrate me this much, but it does…Maybe it was protection…

I made a lot of progress last week. I feel like I am making strides and getting stronger with concepts. I had 2 onsites and a practice technical and I felt I did pretty good in all of them. Rejected from one in less than 24 hours, but that 1 involved a lot of semi negative back & forth with the recruiters for over a month, so I felt the decision was made before I even did the interview.

I was exhausted, but felt like I was detaching from the pain of things and just telling myself get through it. Even in my workouts. My body was tired but it felt like it was moving without my mind. I know it’s only God…I spent less time on social media, I spent less time procrastinating, and I can get through most 12 hour days without needing a nap. I am completely wiped out on my break days (Sundays) and take 4 hour naps then lol but I remember a time during my early months of being laid off where I couldn’t get through the day without a 3 hour nap.

I am about done with the sections of the API YouTube course I want to go over. It is a really good course and it’s at a good level of detail I need. I was familiar with the material, but this was good to solidify understanding of certain concepts. I think I have like one more day left that I’d like to spend on it for prep for my interviews. A lot of things make a lot more sense. I wanted to get past it so that I can focus more on system design and algos, but it was necessary to go over. I’m trying to balance learning quite a bit of topics: system design, APIs, DS&A, OOP, behavioral questions.

For you that have been commenting on my posts encouraging me, especially @mythgrippa-blog & @tenaciousdeveloper, I want to send a particular word of appreciation. Whenever I get a bit discouraged, I remember your comments, so thank you so much.

I even caught a butterfly by its wings! I’ve always wanted to do that, but I don’t think I’ll ever do that again. I won’t forget how surprisingly strong it was wriggling to get free. I quickly released it when I realized I could be hurting it’s wings! I’m sure I did though and the thought makes me sick. I never meant to hurt it. These are sentient beings. There was no need for me to do that. I didn’t realize I would hurt it before I did it. I was on break from an on-site, feeling good, listening to this song, and intrusive thoughts took over.

It flew away fine, but still…I’m sure I damaged the wings just by touching it. I felt a similar guilt when I thought my car would clear and not hit this cat that was laying in the middle of the street. It didn’t and I killed a little collar-less white kitten 😔. This was almost a decade ago. I don’t even own a car anymore but I still think about it & feel guilty.

I took a Cruise autonomous car ride. That was my 3rd time in an autonomous car ride, but 1st one by Cruise. After it, I was inspired. This is the type of things that drew me to tech in the 1st place…

School loans start accruing interest again at the end of this month, and I would like to pay those off. I haven’t looked into deferring my payments because I’m hoping I can pay them off before needing that option. It is humbling to go from having a lot of autonomy with spending to relying on government assistance. Life comes at you fast…I can’t judge anyone. I do, but I shouldn’t and I try not to. I am reminded everyday, with every new experience or challenge, that you truly don’t know what people are facing or what the heck you would do if in a similar scenario. Ideas & history are different from reality.

Pastor at church today said, “You think you have strong faith until something happens that tests it,” and I related hard. I reflect on everything. Sometimes I just sit and stare like, “I’m tired and I’m ready for a different reality.”

My mom comes at the start of September too, and I would like to fully enjoy that with her with my dream job. I will enjoy it regardless though.

I order from DoorDash less, to save money, and also, because there’s not that many options that are healthy, and regardless if the meal is healthy or not, I’ve had it so many times that I’d rather just try to make a replica of my own if I have time. Some things I just can’t replicate, but I do like that I’m empowering myself to have some control over that. I’m often negotiating between saving money and saving time when it comes to this food stuff.

Also, food at this point is one of the only break aways from work that I’m allowing myself to enjoy right now. A LOT of my community has left the city or don’t reach out despite my efforts of trying to maintain the relationship. I don’t want to forge new ones right now, because the emotional and financial investment is… a lot right now. Anytime you want free time outside these days, you end up spending like $50 at minimum! I also feel like I need to find someone to help on Sundays. Sundays are for rest though, and so far, I’ve taken up the whole day washing my hair, going to church, grocery shopping, cooking, eating, napping for 3 or 4 hours, reflecting, and YouTube video watching. I don’t study, I don’t do any chores, and I don’t even like cooking those days. I appreciate my Sundays for what they are for: rest.

A few people close to me asked me again this week if I wanted to keep doing this and I was audibly annoyed. They don’t think I’ve made success in the way I should, but they don’t know much about the industry or how things typically go on this side. They also don’t know my plan. They don’t have to, but it does because it kind of feels they don’t believe in my abilities. I don’t want to be struggling forever, but I don’t think I should give up. I want to do this. I mean, I even get the question a lot in interviews. Like, I transitioned about 3 years ago. Why are you still asking me why I transitioned? You’re wasting time when you could be asking me about my qualifications for this role. I’m sure non-career-transitioners (people with traditional backgrounds) don’t get asked why they chose that field. Does it matter WHY I’ve chosen it if I’ve been gainfully employed in it for years and am applying to keep doing it? It shouldn’t. This question is totally valid outside of interviews. I appreciate answering it then. It just feels invasive when asked in interviews. I could see if I was fresh out of my old career, but I’ve been working as a full time software engineer for more than 3. It almost feels like, “well duh!” at this point when it comes to choosing tech. Look around you. Why not?! EVERY industry damn there has been elevated and can’t survive without tech. It’s really hard to cover your basic needs and a lot people on a 6-figure salary are living paycheck to paycheck given how outrageous rent is. At least tech gives you a fighting chance. Look at me! A tech worker still with debt who’s now had to rely on government assistance…It feels similar to interviewers asking why I majored in something. It doesn’t matter at all when you should be looking at the work I’ve done for money.

It was recommended, and I agreed, that I should stop interviewing with startups and start interviewing with companies I would like to work at, so I’m doing that soon. I feel a bit impatient and when I do, I try to refocus and remind myself that I shouldn’t give up and potentially blow the progress made thus far (another word of encouragement from y’all reading, so thank you!). I just need to keep going, stop feeling rushed, be fearless, be strategic, have confidence, and know that God will give me something great in due time that’s fit for me that exceeds my expectations.

I’m grateful for vision, dexterity, my mental health, my education, having hot water, still being able to afford a gym membership and to never go hungry. To spend on organic groceries. I also still have quite a bit of savings. I didn’t realize but my high yield savings account has been kicking me back about the amount of a week’s worth of meals & groceries every month. Praise God. I also am still able to tithe and be generous to people who need help during this time.

The things that I wanted months and even weeks ago, like purses, shoes, etc. all seem so frivolous now. Thousands on these things? I’ve never spent that much on purses & shoes. I’ve never been that girl, but I HAVE bought a lot of excess before, or bought things, albeit cheap, that I thought I would use one day. I even imagined that once I get a job, I would treat myself on one of those $1k+ purses, just because I’m a 30 and never have bought anything designer. Now, I don’t even care about taking a vacation. I just want to wake up employed. I WILL take a vacation, but I don’t mind just visiting something local. I miss NYC like crazy! I’ve always wanted to visit Atlanta (my 1st visit was at night and was too short, I had to drive back to Nashville in the morning). Those purses and shoes are still NICE but, I don’t HAVE to have them like I once felt…Imma still treat myself, but the treats won’t be as extravagant/often/out of my honest price range.

Fashion blogs seem so DUMB to me now. The THOUSANDS people will pay and still be in debt or not own any assets seems CRAZY now. But it took this to open my eyes. I’ve been unemployed before when I was fresh out of bootcamp, and I went into super frugal mode, and promised myself to maintain those habits. I did a lot, but still made dumb decisions after I got employed again. Freeing myself from want this time around, I hope it sticks.

There were days this week where I woke up wanting to contact a particular dude from my past. Just thirsty and lonely and craving a hug. I kept saying, “I just want a hug.” It’s really just me. Day in & day out. Friends & family only call. Everyone close to me I have to talk to virtually through a screen/over the phone. It gets to me…someone will love me hard and give me the affection I crave one day. I need to rely on God’s love though and remember not to put too much dependence on people, but it’s okay to want a partner. God honors marriage and says a spouse is to supply the other’s needs for affection. Not one way: this is for both partners.

I’m grateful for everything this time has taught me and I don’t know if I would have learned it without this. I shun fear of not getting what I want. I refuse to believe that my efforts will go unrewarded. I chase away the devil that made me believe I was less than. In the meeting with my mentor last week, he said, “I’m going to be candid: the team did NOT like that you were let go. We all felt that you had made so much progress and we actually had a rant session about it.” That almost made me cry, because I felt like the weakest link on the team at that time, but to know that people respected my work and felt like great things were coming for me, confirmed my suspicions too that I KNEW things were looking up. I had finally felt comfortable, and then it felt like my progress was stopped. But I know, and I knew even when I got laid off, even without my next position, it wasn’t a mistake. God tends to shift things when you’re feeling comfortable. He’s trying to elevate me. I will be in a higher position my next role, potentially making more than double what I was. More than what I could have gotten if I stayed. I don’t fear getting let go as much anymore because I know how to do these algos, or, I know where I can go to refresh my understandings of them. I lived in fear before this and couldn’t truly enjoy anything because I knew there was a huge hole in my understanding of things in the interview & my career that I felt I didn’t have the time to learn. Nothing is by mistake and I’m grateful to Him. Amen!

I hope y’all are well too. Be blessed <3