#or the people they surround themselves with

[maerynaire]

no this is 100% true, I've had to unlearn the shame around aging, weight, etcetera etcetera because my mom constantly bemoans her own body in front of me and has been doing it since day 1 and it gave me an eating disorder

part of the age-phobia that haunts millennials and gen z is our parents' fault. i only know this because my parents actively worked against it my entire childhood and now i am almost completely lacking any sort of angst related to aging. my mom inoculated me against it by approving of aging bodies. my mom told me she didn't care about her sagging breasts or gaining weight because her body had worked hard for her and fed her children and was strong and capable and beautiful. my dad said things like "you're going to be beautiful when you're 40, i cant wait to see you all grown up". neither of them worshiped youth or spoke with envy about anyone's lack of age. they both have friends who are older and younger than they are. it is actually our parents' job to do this. this is what "values" is supposed to mean, they're supposed to give us frameworks to think about and navigate life with, but the term has been so abused and is a neutral thing in the first place, people can have shit values. but yes you are actually supposed to teach your children what to think about things. and you'll end up doing it anyway so you better do it on purpose, and give them lenses through which to see the world that make them stronger and braver and more capable, not fearful and helpless. idk. the older i get the less i blame people for not having the right mental skills and the more i frown and shake my head at whoever's parents didnt teach them that they would be 50 years old one day and how to anticipate and value that process

[soulrox]

DPxDC #23

Danny has learned to change his ghost appearance and has become a tiny gremlin. AKA Little Baby Man.

Danny as LBM is fooling around with Cujo. They've been alternating between games. They've chased each other around, played hide-n-seek, tag, and fetch. Several hours have passed of them playing. The sun is setting. Unknown to Danny they've also flown quite away from Amity Park thanks to their games of tag.

Danny when he catches up to Cujo again wraps his tail around Cujos collar. Danny finally notices that the sun has almost set, so it's time to head off to patrol. He is about to tell Cujo that it's time to leave when he looks down and doesn't recognize the buildings.

Danny: Umm hey boy I don't suppose you know where we flew to. haha.

Cujo just gives Danny a puppy smile. Danny huffs and cuddles him. They fly closer to the ground giving Danny a better look at his surroundings. All around the two little ones is Gothic architecture. It clicks to Danny that they've flown all the way to Gotham after spotting all the gargoyles. Sam had on several occasions talked about and shown photos of all the gargoyles spread throughout Gotham.

Danny is about to ask Cujo to portal them back to Amity when the building near them explodes. A huge hole is blown in the side of the building. Several people wearing green with question marks make their way into the building that just blew.

Danny doesn't want to get on the bats' radar but he is still a protector and the screams he can hear from inside the building are a compelling reason to help. Thinking Danny decides to stay as LBM so when the bats show up they won't know who he is.

Cujo and him fly into the building. The goons have tied up the civilians and a man in green and purple with question marks all over is commanding people. Danny tells Cujo to wait while Danny goes after the Question Mark Man.

Danny flies right into the face of the Question Mark Man and pats his face. Exactly like a toddler does to a person's face. QMM starts to sputter. Going cross-eyed to look at Danny.

Danny: Hey Question Mark Man do you want to play?

Dannys' voice as LBM is feathery. Very soft, thin, and airy, but with an echo of something unnatural underlining it.

QMM: Question Mark Man!? I am the Riddler, you tiny thing. Play? This is my show, my riddles! Riddle me this what are you?

Danny: Riddler nah you're Question Mark Man and my dog and I wanna play more. CUJO FETCH!

Cujo grows big and starts chasing the goons. Several goons get stepped on or thrown into walls and one poor soul gets captured in Cujos' mouth and gets shaken violently back and forth.

So while Cujos off dealing with the goons Danny punches QMM in the gut. QMM flies across the room from the strength of the punch, getting knocked out. Although Danny is LBM he still has all the same strength and powers as his normal-sized self. Danny freaks out, he didn't think he hit that hard. Forgetting the fact he only deals with ghosts and not the living.

The civilian hostages are so confused. First, their day is ruined by Riddler and they'd have to sit through whatever game he set up for the Bats and Birds. Then instead of the normal routine a tiny thing and their dog deal with Riddler and his goons. When Riddler goes flying some of the hostages have to stifle their laughter. When they turn back to the Little Guy they see the flying Little Guy looking frantic at what they just did. The Little Guy is wide-eyed looking frightened and unsure rocking themselves side to side. The flying green dog shrinks and joins them, cuddling in the air. The civilians are unsure of what to do and are still tied up. Thankfully Batman and the newest sword-wielding Robin show up.

Batman and Robin are unsure of what situation they have just arrived at. Riddler is in an unconscious heap on the ground the goons knocked out or not moving,(they can see they are all breathing) one wet, covered in some type of substance, and two small individuals wrapped around each other in the air, while a group of hostages is tied up on the floor.

[grimmsbride]

USELESS FUCKING JANITOR [ daisuke / reader ]

after a small incident with jimmy, you’re left feeling miserable and a little bad for yourself. luckily a certain useless ray of sunshine pops in just to comfort you

tags / jimmy mentions & him being a dick | ooc characters | reader is a janitor | this fic is kind of messy i apologize | fluff | kissing | two young idiots and their feelings | daisuke can’t stand jimmy | reader lowkey needs to stand up for herself | just fluff nothing more | minor hurt w/ comfort

notes / this originally was gonna be smut but i decided to go a different direction, whilst the next daisuke fic will def be smut. please enjoy and please excuse any typos or grammar mistakes

You hadn’t know the co-captain for long. You didn’t know much about his background, values, or morals. You didn’t know a thing about him, yet you knew enough to steer clear of his path. Something about him was unnerving, and sometimes downright odd. One such being the way he loved to pick people apart. Metaphorically digging his fingers into a person, pulling each little insecurity as if perfect bullets for his emotional ammo. You’ve seen Jimmy do this to Anya, reminding her of her flaws and lack of accomplishments. You wondered how exactly she continued the day as if his words had no effect. Like water off a duck’s back.

Other times it was his captain and even friend Curly. Though far in between. While few times it was Daisuke, the only bundle of optimism left tracking around the ship. You couldn’t deny the affection you were slowly developing for the other. Was it simply you being a hormonal young woman in close capacity with another hormonal young man surrounded by grumpy older people? Or was it something else? Either way you couldn’t deny the way your stomach fluttered each time he would smile at you, wave, or even blink in your direction.

Let alone how he met Jimmy’s usually harsh words with a bright beam of a smile, declaring he’ll do better. Only for the co-captain to sigh and mumble something under his breath, truly bothered by the intern’s existence.

If only you were capable of taking a piece of his personality in times like this.

The day had started off simple, you walking around; earbuds shoved in whilst cleaning up. From dusting, scrubbing, to wiping down surfaces; you were nearly done with your daily duties. Unless of course someone made a mess later, but the others were luckily nice enough to clean up after themselves like the grown people they were.

The last task was to mop, one you dreaded quite a bit. While the clean smell the chemicals left behind were a nice touch, you truly hated how heavy the mop got or how bulky that ugly yellow bucket was. Regardless of your opinion you had a job to do, and fulfill it you would.

The wheels squeaked against the floors as you dragged the large bucket, the chemical-water swishing against the walls of the plastic container. You slowed your dragging as you came across the hallway, humming softly along to the music currently blasting in your ears.

You silently thanked your past self for the taking the time to pack your i-pod, knowing you wouldn’t be able to survive a second on this place without it. And despite Curly’s slight reservations about it — safety and all that — he didn’t bother you much since you got your work done efficiently.

Plunging the long stringed mop into the water, you slowly lifted the heavy weight up and between the unholy yellow contraption. Grabbing the black bar, you pushed, wringing out the excess water for a moment before releasing the mop from the tension. Once satisfied you lifted the mop out, slowly dragging it against the floor in careful strides, assuring each space was throughly cleaned.

In the midst of your focus, and between songs; you couldn’t help but hear a voice you came to enjoy. Your eyes flicked to the side, spotting Daisuke standing in the main lobby, wearing a nervous smile whilst his mentor stood over him.

You couldn’t make out everything they were saying but you got the gist from the expressions plastered across their faces. One of irritation and the other of nervousness. Nine times out of ten Daisuke accidentally messed something up with his overzealous nature once again.

You rose the mop blindly, plunging it into the water just when the man glanced over at you. You spotted a little crinkle of his lips, his once nervous smile growing just a bit cheeky. You could only chuckle softly, lip quickly being bit to silence your laughter. The last thing you wanted to do was get on Swansea’s bad side as well.

Unfortunately, however, with your focus elsewhere you hadn’t even realized how rough you were being with the mop. Attempting to pull it out suddenly grew difficult the moment it got caught on the edge of the bucket, tipping it forward and soon falling.

Just in time for a certain co-captain to be walking by.

All color drained from your face as a loud swear fell from his lips. Your eyes settled onto the man, spotting the darker colored fabric of his uniform. Luckily there was no bleach in the bucket.

Jimmy glared down at his clothes before turning the harsh stare to you.

“Are you incapable of mopping or something?”

You swallowed harshly, gripping the handle of your mop nervously. “I—i’m sorry Jimmy, I..”

“You have the easiest job in this entire place and you still manage to find a way to fuck it up.”

You clammed shut instantly, watching his lips continue to move yet not hearing a thing. You felt raw and open under the harmful speech he uttered, forcing yourself to breathe as not to shed tears. You had done so well before keeping your head down near this man, escaping his radar as not to cause tension.

But of course, your luck ran out in this exact second.

“Useless fucking janitor..” Jimmy finished, walking off, shoes noticeably squeaking with each step. You bit the inside of your cheek, feeling your rapid heartbeat slow the moment he was out of earshot. Still, his words rung through your mind, clouding it and soon your vision.

You blinked rapidly, quickly moving to lift the bucket and clean up the mess you created.

All under the watchful eye of a certain someone.

“Hey, what are you listening to?”

Your eyes slowly rose from the floor of your room, drifting over to the young man currently occupying space in the doorway. His lips were curled into a little smile, tapping his fingers against the entryway for a moment before stepping inside fully— the door sliding behind him.

You shrugged a little, waving your i-pod lazily. “Some random song.” You mumbled back, attention going back to the floor as drums and singing filled your ears. Usually you were up for conversation, loving to go on tangents about the music blasting in your ears. Through your talks, it felt as if you were still connecting to your home back on Earth.

Earth.. oh how you wished to go home. Away from that god forsaken co-captain that just loved to ruin another’s day. It’s not like it’s your fault his life is so shitty. He shouldn’t take it out on you or anyone else for that matter.

Stewing in your anger, you hadn’t notice Daisuke come even closer until he was standing right beside you. In a split moment he was dropping to sit beside you, knee grazing your own as he crossed his legs.

“Mind if I listen?”

You thumbed the circle button of the little device, lips pursed stubbornly. No, you can’t listen. I rather stew and rewind that complete embarrassment of a lecture I received hours ago. Was your first thought, ready to leave your tongue as your eyes darted over to the other.

Except you couldn’t. Not when he was smiling like that, so sweetly; eyes crinkled and pretty lips curled. You swallowed silently, a shaky hand lifting to the earbud closest to him and extending it towards the other. His fingers grazed your own as he grabbed the bud gently, coming just a bit closer to you as he tucked the bud into his ear.

Daisuke’s head went slack, hands falling to his lap as the music ran through his ear. It’s been a while since he heard good music like this. Not the typical instrumentals Swansea played — albeit rarely — when they were working. No, this was perfect. A nice reminder to what he has back home.

“Let me ask, do you listen to this music when you’re cleaning up?”

You nodded slowly, moving a bit uncomfortably whilst leaning back into your bed. “Yeah.. I can clean without music but ya know, I prefer it.”

“I get what you mean. Helps you stay focused doesn’t it?”

Daisuke peeked at you, causing your mouth to run dry; deciding just to nod. A silence entered the room shortly after, the two of you simply listening to your music; your lips slowly moving to mouth the lyrics. Within the second chorus of the song, was when Daisuke spoke again.

“What Jimmy said earlier..”

You shook your head, “Daisuke, you don’t have to say anything. I’m not a child, I don’t need to be consoled after being lectured.” You said cynically, eyebrows furrowing just a little as you glanced at anything but him.

But, the young man didn’t let up. Daisuke gently begun again;

“I’m not consoling you. Just.. reminding you how cool you are.”

You snorted at his words, eyes finally stealing away from the floor to glance at him. “You being funny?” You questioned with a raised eyebrow. You watched, in a rather annoyed manner, as the man shook his head— with enough force his earbud slid a bit, causing him to quickly adjust it.

Despite his assurance, you weren’t convinced.. at all.

“I’m a janitor, Daisuke. I highly doubt that’s cool.”

You watched as his eyes rolled, furthering your minor irritation and confusion.

“You’re a janitor.. yeah— but think about it!” Daisuke hummed, flashing another one of his perfect smiles. “Without you this ship would be filthy, smell bad, and maybe even dusty. Terrible conditions for someone to work or live in.”

You glanced away, struggling to keep your lips in a neutral position. “Anyone can clean, Daisuke.”

“Yeah but you’re the one doing it. Not me, Curly, Anya, Swansea— or Jimmy. You are..”

You shivered as you felt gentle fingers on the back of your hand, causing your eyes to blink back to the other occupying the space beside you. Drifting from that sweet smile down to your hand, you noticed his fingers gently tracing your knuckles for a moment. The feeling was.. pleasant, intimate— enough that a heat of warmth flushed from your chest all the way to your cheeks.

“—You’re just as important as anyone else on this ship.” Daisuke hummed, stealing your attention back to his words. With ease the man was curling his fingers around your hand, turning it over to then link his digits with your own.

“At least I think so. And..”

This time Daisuke leaned close, lips just a breath’s away from your ear. “Whatever you splashed on Jimmy just made him smell.. wayyy better.”

You snorted, now all smiles and teeth as laughter escaped you. Your own pleasant sounds mixed with his, the two of you bumping into each other in the midst of your joy. You hadn’t even noticed the squeeze he was giving to your hand, nor the way your head was practically leaning onto his shoulder.

Moments of this bliss passed before you two could slowly settle down, realization of your current positions quickly dawning on you. Your eyes drifted to the hold resting on your lap, the cool sliver ring he wore rubbing against your heated skin. Your eyes rose from the hold and over to the man beside you, spotting him already looking at you.

Again, that same warmth overtook you— the same warmth that has been doing so for months; every time you looked at this bundle of sunshine. Your lips curled in onto themself, struggling to keep eye contact as nothing seemed to swirl in the eyes staring back at you.

Only when they suddenly flicked to your lips did you get even an inkling of what he wanted. Luckily, the feeling was definitely mutual.

Squeezing his hand, you moved closer— Daisuke meeting your advance and pressing his lips to your own. The kiss was slow, full of uncertainty yet passionate enough that same bliss trickled throughout your entire body. His thumb circled your skin, whilst his other hand reached over to gently grab your arm.

Moments passed before the two of you were satisfied, or more like out of breath; pulling away as your chests rose and fell in tandem. Your head lowered to rest against his shoulder, smiling to yourself as his warmth and your music consumed you.

“So uh.. does this mean we’re… together?”

You chuckled softly, turning to stamp a kiss against his neck, feeling him shiver.

“Yes Daisuke.”

[fistfightinganxietyandlosing]

I absolutely adore this but consider:

The Armed Detective Agency doing its usual detective things but its disguised as a retail store

au where the ada is a retail store solely becuz i want ada vs annoying customers

i want atsushi to be put on the spot by some bitchy loser becuz "he's just a teen" and i want him to not even be able to reply becuz someone, dazai, kyouka,, kunikida, some other ada member flies in and just knocks them out

i want dazai getting an annoying costumer and annoying them so bad but still getting them to buy stuff

i want kunikida to turn around at a karen and pull out his ideals and tell them why they're miserable and failing at life

they ask to see the manager and fukuzawa pops out with his sword or whatever

yeah

wait someone is mean to atsushi and the next second kyouka's there knife against their neck

she's politer to ppl who r mean to her but atsushi is not nice to those ppl

junichiro could totally fuck with their mind after crying a little

if someone is mean to ranpo he needs like one sentence to break them down into tears and change their world view

it's hard to dare to be mean to kenji who accidentally ripped a door off

anyway ada retail store

[eatmyheartoutjpg]

𓇻 𝗪𝗘𝗔𝗣𝗢𝗡𝗦 𝗗𝗘𝗔𝗟𝗘𝗥 ᵃʳᶜᵃⁿᵉ ˣ ᵍⁿ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨 ;; Silco, Sevika, Jinx 𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 ;; A collection of dynamics and interactions, SFW, Platonic. In which you're a weapons dealer from Piltover working with the undercity, Zaun, all for the sake of your own benefit. 𝘼/𝙉 ;; I love writing interactions surrounding one character dynamic, so here it is! I'll probably write stuff like this more, it's enjoyable for me. Probably will write a part 2 w/ other characters.

11.29.24 Masterlist

You were an anomaly in Silco’s carefully constructed world—a Piltie who didn’t sneer at Zaun but didn’t romanticize it either. You were coy and calculating weasel who wielded a sharp tongue and a sharper wit with precision, forcibly creating a space in the murky waters of Zaun’s criminal underground.

Your voice carried the tone of sincerity, but it never fooled anyone for long; your smile never reached your eyes, and your words were more weapons than pleasantries. You could smile while explaining the most grotesque scenario known to mankind.

People underestimated you often. Some said you had been overconfident, but you knew you had power—the kind born of understanding the value of everything around you, including yourself. What made you different, however, was that you had the ability to force it under your own bare hands, you claimed ownership of everything you wanted.

You supplied Silco with the finest weapons Piltover could create, the kind that never made it into the hands of their enforcers or the powerful and rich aristocrats. The kind that gave Zaun a fighting chance. But you didn’t do it out of charity or loyalty. It was business, pure and simple, and you enjoyed the game.

Dynamic with Silco:

Silco tolerated you. He had no illusions about who you were or what drove you. You were eccentric and unpredictable, traits he usually despised, but your results spoke for themselves.

You brought him weapons that turned the tides of battles, secured deals that strengthened Zaun’s position, and provided insights that few could rival. You granted him so much power and influence within days.

Your dynamic was a strange push-and-pull. You’d waltz into his office unannounced, throw yourself onto the nearest chair, and launch into a rapid-fire monologue about your latest ideas or complaints. He would sit behind his desk, curling and uncurling his fingers around a cigar, and watch you with an expression of faint disinterest.

You'd never come in with your own bodyguards of any kind and you'd come by so often no one questioned you walking up the stairs of the Last Drop.

You came by as if you were close friends.

“You have a remarkable talent for talking,” he’d say dryly once you finally paused to breathe.

“And you have a remarkable talent for listening,” you’d shoot back, unbothered by his lack of patience.

Still, there were moments of quiet understanding. Silco recognized your value, even if he didn’t particularly enjoy your company, and you respected his vision, even if you didn’t always agree with his methods. It was a professional relationship at its core, but there was an underlying current of mutual acknowledgment that kept you both coming back to the table.

Dynamic with Sevika:

Sevika didn’t trust you, and you didn’t blame her. You didn’t make it easy for her to like you, teasing her with remarks just toeing the line of disrespect (especially about her arm).

Whenever she was tasked with escorting you on high-stakes exports, you could feel her eyes on you, weighing and measuring, trying to figure out where you fit in the grand scheme of things.

You always ignored it. Her distrust didn’t bother you—it amused you. You loved toying with her stoic demeanor, throwing in cryptic comments and unnecessary flair just to see if you could chip away at her cool. You were unpredictable, and she hated that.

She also had to bear with you for the sake of her boss, Silco. She would hold back loud groans every time you flung open his office door and drop a load of plans and logs onto his already cluttered desk.

And sometimes, out of a desire to share the distaste of being around you, Silco stopped asking her to leave his office. He'd have her stand and listen to you ramble and ramble. If he had to, she did too.

Still, you had your moments. Like the time you presented her with a large selection of highly specialized mechanical arms—sleek, durable, and laced with the latest enhancements Piltover could offer. Her reaction had been hard to read, a mix of suspicion and begrudging admiration as she inspected them all.

“What’s the catch?” she asked flatly, flexing the joints, testing the weight of the mechanical arm.

You only grinned, spreading your hands in mock innocence. “No catch. Just a gift for Silco’s most trusted lieutenant."

She didn’t believe you for a second. But when the arms proved to be everything you promised, she found herself thinking about you less as a threat and more as an enigma. Not a friend, not an ally, but not quite an enemy either.

Dynamic with Jinx:

Your first meeting with Jinx was unplanned. You had stormed into Silco’s office mid-afternoon, as per usual, all grins and energy, barely pausing to knock. Sevika didn't stop you, as per usual.

You launched into an elaborate spiel about your newest weapons designs, gesturing wildly as you described their destructive potential, opening blueprints after blueprints on Silco's desk.

He only nodded along, waiting for a pause in your dialogue to ask questions.

But above Silco’s desk, perched like a mischievous cat, Jinx watched you with wide, curious eyes. She had no intention of sitting through one of her father’s boring meetings, but you were different. You were loud and exciting, and your enthusiasm for chaos mirrored her own.

You were the first person she's encountered to have such a bold and eccentric personality like her own.

Before Silco could silence you with a quip, Jinx leapt down, landing with a loud crash on Silco's desk, sending blueprints flying.

“Wait, wait, wait,” she interrupted, eyes gleaming. “You’re talking about guns?”

You blinked, taken aback for only a second before grinning wider. You weren't questioning her sudden appearance, to be honest, you didn't care to. “Not just guns. Masterpieces. Works of art. Top of the state types. Wanna see?”

Silco sighed heavily as Jinx dragged you to a nearby table, where you began sketching designs and explaining mechanisms. The two of you quickly fell into a chaotic rhythm, talking over each other in a flurry of excitement.

“She wasn’t supposed to meet you,” Silco muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

But it was too late. Jinx had found a kindred spirit, and you found yourself with a new, albeit unpredictable, ally. Silco already dealt with two mad inventors separately (one being his daughter and the other a sly weasel), but together? He and Sevika both knew this would become a new headache for them. Silco’s office would never be the same.

ˢᵉᵛᵉⁿ

[kiiyomei]

Bad and bougie!reader with Rafe at a party and someone disrespects her and before Rafe could crash out about it she steps in and handles it. Leaving Rafe in awe

[ A/N: 𝖥𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖨 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗒. 𝖨’𝗆 𝗌𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗒 𝗂𝗍’𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗋𝗍 𝖻𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗒. 𝖨’𝗆 𝗌𝗈𝗋𝗍𝖺 𝗍𝗒𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝖿𝖿 𝗆𝗒 𝗉𝗁𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗌𝗈 𝗂𝗍 𝗌𝖾𝖾𝗆𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀. ]

[ TW: language, violence, little mention of blood. ]

The house party filled with partygoers ranging from the Toureon, local Kooks and some Pogues that managed to sneak into the party thanks to Sarah that allowed her boyfriend and his friends to swing-by.

Bad & Boujee Kook sat with her group of girl-friends on the sofa lounged out on the couches in the backyard and sipping from her cup of Tito’s mixed with strawberry lemonade for position of choice

Meanwhile, Rafe busied himself with a game of beer pong against Kelce and Blake, while Topper was his teammate through it all. The duo was unbeatable as people described them for their winning streak.

It was all going perfect since everyone was in good moods, no drama or fights for once and relishing in the moment before it quickly gone sour. It’s always expected at the parties in Figure 8.

After watching her boyfriend play one of his usual games, Bad & Boujee Kook decided it was time to grab another refill along with her best friend, Gigi. They excused themselves, making sure to let their boyfriend’s Rafe and Kelce their whereabouts

“Maybe I should—“ Ruthie suddenly spoke, trying to fit in with the shared friend group, after all being girlfriend of Topper and make friends instead cut off.

“Just because you sit like a lap dog for Top, doesn’t mean we need you to be one for us.” Bad & Boujee Kook replied with a small scoff and disdain in her tone, not liking her since the beginning. “Now go fetch the treat Topper throws at you.”

Gigi laughs, following right behind her leaving behind Ruthie on her own on the couch to continue watching her boyfriend and his friends play beer pong.

As the two girls wandered off, entering the house to approach the kitchen to retrieve their refills in drinks and discuss the small gossip; likely talking trash about Topper’s replacement from Sarah and finding some Kook that looked similar to her yet intolerable.

Gigi poured the POG juice along with Tito’s in her cup first before she began pouring the cranberry juice and Tito’s into the second cup for her friend.

“Why is she bothering to fit in with us? It’s not like we like her but she’s so sufferable to be around.” Gigi explained her dislike to Ruth, and reasonings behind it. “She is far up Topper’s ass to know that he’s trying to find a doppelgänger to replace his own ex.”

“No kidding. Ruth or whatever her name is, has zero comparison to Sarah.” Bad & Boujee Kook replied with, agitation evident in her tone and accepting the drink.

As the two girls were aimlessly chatting away and gossiping over their strong dislike to Topper’s new girlfriend that tried to hard to fit in their clique—they barely acknowledge the new Kook that’s staring hard towards one specific girl.

The same exact Kook, that’s been enamored of Bad and Boujee Kook, or likely she described down right obsessed with her for no good reason except infatuation. It was concerning at least.

Building up the courage, the guy stood up from his spot in the corner of the room and approached the two girls with one intention in mind. In the middle of mid-conversation about the recent gossip surrounding the island about their friend Olivia finding her now ex-boyfriend cheated with one of the Pogues from the cut side of the island.

“Can you believe it was with Lisa Olsen? Like you could’ve picked any other girl like some Touron or one of the locals around here.” Gigi says, sipping the cup filled with her mixed concoction of alcohol and juice.

Bad and Boujee Kook nodded along to every word, while glancing around for her own boyfriend to be exact considering he was in the middle of beer pong.

Her gaze flocked around the room, until landing her sights on him across the room in the backyard exactly where the long table was with the cups lined up into the triangle shape, except some cups missing.

The way Rafe looked, smugly smirking as he shot another ball and it landed into the cup as expected since he was a practical pro at the drinking game.

Especially after recently cleaning up his buzz-cut, wearing the crisp white T-shirt and tan cargo shorts that shown off his muscular body and her favorite body part of him; his biceps.

“Hello, are you even listening?” Gigi waved her hands in front of her friend’s face to regain her attention for the last five minutes and chuckling softly.

Bad & Boujee Kook snapped out of her own thoughts, shifting her attention back to her friend without any shame for eyeing her boyfriend. “Oops. Sorry.”

Gigi laughed, shaking her head. “You’ve got it so down bad for him, it’s almost sickeningly cute.”

The guy approached, bravely in front of everyone and smiling while keeping confidence within himself to try to pull either one of the girls; specifically her.

“Hello, ladies.” The new guy greeted the two with a cocky grin and swagger in his voice, like he had a chance with her or Gigi. “May I say you two are probably the hottest sight of my night.”

Gigi made a disgusted face, meanwhile Bad and Boujee Kook smile faltered into a scowl upon her face at the audacity of this guy to try that.

“Tell us something we don’t know already.” Gigi replied, sipping her drink and clearly unamused by his flirty attempt the first chance he had.

“Not interested.” Bad & Boujee Kook chimed in, not bothering to give a single second of her attention or time to the guy, looking around the room.

The confidence within the new guy faltered as his advances were rejected already by the two of them but not letting it slip-up the mojo to keep trying.

“Can’t blame a guy for trying.” The guy says, stepping closer to the both of them and trying once again.

Bad and Boujee Kook rolled her eyes, stepping back an inch or two further from the stranger that would not take the obvious hint she wasn’t interested for a reason. Her boyfriend was a D1 crash out, especially over her if anyone ever tried her.

She exhaled a long sigh, the vibe being killed instantly by the idiot that’s attempting too hard to hit on them without accepting the rejection.

“Let’s go, Gigi.” She says, linking arms with her blonde best friend to make their leave to return to their spot and put-up with Ruthie trying to fit in again.

The guy didn’t like that one bit, ignoring the obvious fact neither of the two wanted anything to do with him and stepped forward in front of them.

“Hold on now, there’s no need for you to act like a stuck-up bitch.” He told her, taking the rejection hard,

Across the room, after wining the last round to the game, Rafe looked away from Topper and Kelce to look around until his gaze locked on his girl—hold up whose that douchebag in front of her?

“Yo, hold on man—“ Topper tried to intervene to prevent his best friend reach the limit of crashing out on some guy bothering his girlfriend.

“Fuck off.” Rafe grumbled with a low growl coming from his chest, pushing back his best friend to march towards his girlfriend and the dickhead pressing her.

Meanwhile, Bad & Boujee Kook kept her composure the entire time with nonchalance with the passive aggressive attitude the dickhead had with her.

“Excuse me?” She asked, chuckling softly and resting her hand upon her hip to see if she heard him right.

The guy scoffed, suddenly extending his arm out to tug on her arm to pull her in close; face to face to try intimidating her without acknowledging her boyfriend storming his way towards them.

“You heard me. You might be hot but not that hot to act like a stuck-up bitch.” The guy spat in her face, taking the rejection harshly from her.

Everyone in the area suddenly quiet down, after spotting Rafe Cameron in one of his raging moods ready to kick the dickhead’s ass and put him in the hospital or worse, 6ft under the ground.

Right as he got close enough, suddenly—

The unexpected happened that left everyone gasping and wide-eyed with shock from what they witnessed.

Bad and Boujee Kook shot her hand out to deliver a right hook straight into the guy’s nose hearing the faint ‘CRACK’ and he cowered instantly, howling in pain from the impactful punch.

“SHIT—you crazy bitch..” The guy groaned in pain, hunched over clutching his nose as the blood gushed out and throbbing in pain. “I think you broke my nose.”

“Good, you deserved it you fucking prick.” She winced, shaking her hand to relieve the throbbing pain in her hand that’s swelling from the impactful punch.

Gigi let out a breathy laugh, watching the whole thing in front of her own very eyes and stepping closer behind her best friend to glance down to the guy.

“Wow, nice one.” The blonde complimented her best friend and the nasty right hook delivered.

Everyone had their phones out by now, recording the aftermath and whispering to one another to comment on the way she held her own against the guy without needing Rafe to step in to defend her.

Rafe was completely awestruck and maybe dumbfounded to see the way his own girlfriend threw the first punch before he had the chance to. Normally it was him, that’s the fighter in the relationship and handling her battles whenever it came to the guys that were passive aggressive.

He snapped out of his shock, blinking slowly back to reality when everyone cheered for her and the comments coming from Topper and Kelce.

“Who knew princess had a nasty right hook!” Topper commented, impressed by what he witnessed.

“Man, did she learn from you?” Kelce chimed in next, puffing on the pre-rolled joint and the cherry lit up each puff of smoke lingering in the air.

“She just had it in her, I guess.” Rafe muttered under his breath, stepping away from the two and immediately approached her to check on her.

The guy’s friend came over to pick him up from the ground, leading him out of the party after the humiliation made out of him by Bad & Boujee Kook. Gigi offered to grab ice to place over the hand, stepping away right as Rafe got closer to let the couple have their space from the interaction.

Instantly, she softened her expression after seeing her boyfriend contrast earlier to being angered and upset with the situation with the douchebag.

“Hey, you good babygirl.” He spoke, reaching out to grab her wrist gently and inspecting the swelling in her hand to make sure it didn’t need to clean-up. “He didn’t touch you, right?”

She shakes her head letting herself be doted on with attention and affection, to calm down and heart filled with warmth for how he treated her gently.

“Sorta, he grabbed my wrist but I think I did worse damage than he did.” She laughed, wincing as his fingers brushed over her bruised knuckles.

Once finished doing the glance over from head to toe to check for no further damage and that his princess was good from the incident not that long ago.

“Here.” Gigi says, passing over the mini ziplock bag filled with ice from the cooler and Rafe taking it to carefully place upon her swollen knuckle .

Once again, the couple were left in their own space bubble and everyone got the message loud and clear enough to leave them be. Especially now being proven that the couple were crash-outs together.

“Who taught you to throw a punch like that?” Rafe asked, chuckling lightly as he led her to the sofa nearby and seated himself then letting her sit on his thigh. “It was kinda…hot.”

“You’re an idiot.” She laughed, sitting comfortably in his lap and nuzzled closely into his side.

“Mm, I don’t know, I suppose having to do with growing up with older brothers.” Rafe nodded along, listening to her explain a little further.

He run his hand along her bare thighs, while the other kept the ice pack upon her hand to soothe her skin. The two were ideal perfect together even if their own slightly twisted way.

“Remind me to not piss you off.” He muttered, nuzzling his nose into the crook of her neck and placing light peppered kisses against the skin of her throat. “In fact…maybe I should.”

“Don’t push it.” She scoffed, playfully smacking his hard chest with her free hand and grinning.

[malk1ns]

november 22 vs jets, 4-1 loss

someone was in a mood.

this is omegaverse. it's also not entirely what i set out to write, but i got a little lost in in the setup at the start and then sid got a little less feral-alpha and more i've-been-pining at the end there so...here we are. also not nearly as long of a sex scene as i'd planned but sometimes i don't actually decide what gets written! hope you enjoy it anyway :)

Zhenya doesn’t trust the team’s new dynamic specialist.

He’s an omega—they often are, omegas tend to get funneled into career paths that involve heightened sensitivity to smell and emotions young, just like alphas are encouraged towards sports—but that’s not why Zhenya doesn’t trust him, not at all. 

Kris had laughed at him when he first brought it up, patted his shoulder and said that Zhenya had no reason to be jealous, he was still everyone’s favorite omega no matter how many specialists the team brings in. Zhenya had socked him on the arm hard enough to bruise.

He’s never been that kind of omega. Most omegas he knows aren’t, actually—the stereotype that they’re all fawning after alphas, tripping over themselves for attention and picking fights with other omegas at the drop of a hat, isn’t based in any sort of reality that Zhenya’s experienced. He’s been surrounded by ‘traditional’ omegas his whole life, been treated by them and trained by them and gone to them for help regulating his cycle, and they’ve all been fiercely protective of him, gone out of their way to make sure that he’s taken care of and safe.

So, no, it’s not that Zhenya distrusts this guy because he’s an omega. Zhenya doesn’t trust him because he’s a fan.

The Penguins are usually pretty good at weeding out people who are going to be weird about working with the players from their employee pool. Fans are inevitable, especially with the emphasis the team puts on hiring local, but there’s a difference between being a fan and a fan. 

Zhenya’s not sure how this one got through. And to be fair, the guy hasn’t done anything egregious—he’s not touchy, he’s not flirting, nobody’s said anything about feeling uncomfortable with him—but Zhenya can see the stars in his eyes when he looks at Sid, and when Zhenya had his own check-in, the kid barely even pushed back on Zhenya’s treatment plan, just accepted when Zhenya said he was fine and didn’t need any adjustments made.

Zhneya reported the official severance of his mate-bond over the summer. Their last specialist would have subjected him to hours of questions and testing to verify that he truly didn’t need his hormone-balancers changed, but this kid had taken him at his word so quickly that Zhenya was uneasy. If Sid’s checkup went any differently, Zhenya will eat his hat.

Even with that type of deference, though, Zhenya would expect him to have noticed that Sid’s heading towards early rut.

Omegas are always the first to notice when alphas enter pre-rut. It’s less a difference in smell than it is a difference in intensity, in presence. Sid already looms large enough in Zhenya’s subconscious, but when he’s nearing rut it becomes almost unbearable, especially if he doesn’t notice in time to take the pills that suppress the worst of it.

Zhenya can’t believe nobody else has noticed. Then again, he’s been hyper-sensitive to Sid for the last year and a half, ever since he and Anna first separated.

An omega fixating on an alpha like that is something a competent dynamics specialist should have been able to suss out, demand information on, and put together a treatment plan to rectify. This new guy hasn’t noticed a thing, and it’s embarrassing enough that Zhenya certainly isn’t going to bring it up on his own.

Sid’s also normally more on top of his cycle, but he’s stressed this season, fielding calls left and right from guys he hasn’t spoken to in years trying to get info on if he’s planning on jumping ship and being the public face of a team that’s underperforming so drastically it’s a national story every night, so Zhenya isn’t all that surprised.

Sully gives them the day after the Lightning game off, and only half the guys get scheduled for on-ice work the day before the Jets come to town. By the time the special teams units are done with extra video review, Zhenya’s practically dizzy with Sid’s pheromones, and even Kris is starting to wrinkle his nose and cast sidelong looks of concern Sid’s way.

Sid books it for the gym before anyone can corner him, though, which means Zhenya has no choice but to track down the specialist with his concerns.

Kris comes with as back-up, like he always does. One too many instances of Zhenya slinking out of offices with his tail between his legs and rage written on his face after being written off for being overly-emotional their rookie year has made it a habit for them; Zhenya takes point on laying out any problems they have, but Kris is there to lend support and legitimacy.

The specialist—Ben, his nametag says—listens as Zhenya stumbles through what he’s noticing, face getting paler and paler as Zhenya makes it perfectly, unavoidably clear how badly he’s dropped the ball.

“I’ll have to run his bloodwork, but…” Ben hesitates, but Zhenya’s glare gets him babbling. “It’s only, I don’t think—the service doesn’t have any omegas available this week. They send the list every Monday, you know, which of their contractors are around for breakthroughs, but we got a note Sunday night that there weren’t going to be any omegas until next week—some scheduling problem, I don’t know, but there’s nobody they can send for Sid.” He looks between Zhenya and Kris in desperation. “Are you sure? I mean, you’re not just thinking because you—”

Kris growls under his breath, and Ben shuts his mouth. “G knows Sid better than anyone,” Kris says, crossing his arms and managing to loom even from where he’s leaning against the wall across the room. “If he says Sid’s going into rut, he’s going into rut. Not his job to tell people, but we have each other’s backs.”

Zhenya will be surprised if Ben is still employed with the team when 2025 starts.

Ben’s fretting over his computer when Kris and Zhenya leave, muttering to himself as he types out different search queries, trying to find an emergency agency that has a hope of getting approved by the team on such short notice.

He won’t. They only go through one service provider for a reason.

“We’re fucked,” Kris mutters. “That kid doesn’t know anything, Sid’s gonna end up missing a whole week. He’s going to be furious.”

Zhenya doesn’t reply. He has a really, really bad idea.

—

It wouldn’t be the first time Zhenya helped Sid through rut. Zhenya’s own heat is as regular as clockwork and meticulously controlled, has been since he turned 14 and presented for the first time, but Sid spent his teenage years and first few seasons in the league going from medication to medication until his cycle stabilized on its own. There had been a few times when there was no one else available, and they were young and dumb and, as those times proved, painfully compatible.

He’s done it before. No reason he can’t do it again. He was always able to get Sid’s rut to break overnight; if Sid can make it through the Jets game without losing it completely, they might not even miss the second half of this week’s back-to-back.

Convincing Sid will be the hardest part, Zhenya thinks as he goes through his pre-game routine. Sid’s always been respectful to the point of insult about Zhenya’s status as an omega, shutting down locker room talk and off-color jokes firmly and skirting the reality of Zhenya’s heats with a level of avoidance that would make Zhenya think he were a virgin if it weren’t for Zhenya’s hands-on experience. Sid had shut down their hookups Zhenya’s second year so politely that Zhenya hadn’t even realized what was happening at first, but when he’d picked through the conversation later he’d realized that Sid had been concerned he was taking advantage of Zhenya.

He hadn’t been. Zhenya can take care of himself. He thought about getting offended by the implication, about challenging Sid on it and forcing the issue, but then he got back together with Oksana, and after that fizzled out for the final time he met Anna, and it just never felt worth putting a wedge in their friendship just to prove a point.

Zhenya’s prepared to wedge it wide open now. When Sid picks a fight with some Winnipeg forward three minutes into the third, though, he’s shamefully relieved that it probably won’t take much arguing to get Sid to come home with him. Sid’s usually so logical that any arguments they have end with Zhenya losing before they even truly get going.

Zhenya shifts on the bench. They’re losing again, and Sid’s angry and half out of his mind with rut-haze, but seeing him throw punches and snarl his dominance in someone else’s face will never not be hot, no matter the circumstances.

Kris elbows him hard enough to feel it through his pads. “You’re going to do something stupid, huh,” he hisses, and Zhenya nods, watching as Sid barks at the ref on his way to the box. No point pretending, Sid’s going to zero in on him the second he realizes Zhenya’s interested after the game. “Fuck,” Kris sighs, elbowing Zhenya again. “I’ll try to cover for you. Get him out of here as soon as you can, he’s going to cause a riot with the crowd if he hangs around for too long.”

—

Sid’s the first one down the tunnel after the final horn goes off. Zhenya had kept his distance at the end of the game, not wanting to push Sid even further into rut, but even with space between them he could tell that Sid was quickly losing coherency, his big eyes all pupil and his nostrils flaring, snapping at Ricky and Rusty whenever either of them try to talk through a play with him. He spent the last few minutes of the game shoving off the training staff who tried to talk to him, and it took Kris frantically whispering to Sully to get everyone to back off.

Zhenya barely makes it through his shower before Sid gets a whiff of his scent. Kris runs interference, blocking the rest of the team from the change room as Zhenya somehow manages to dress them both while fending off Sid’s advances and keeping his own instinctual fawn response in check.

He’d vaguely thought about having someone from the car service drive them home, but the idea of sharing space with anyone other than Sid is intolerable, so he white-knuckles the drive home, Sid’s scent rising in the close air of his car. It’s suffocating.

“How did you know?” Sid asks suddenly as they turn into Zhenya’s neighborhood. He sounds perfectly lucid, like they’re just having a casual everyday conversation and not like Zhenya’s driving them home so he can sit on Sid’s dick for the next six hours. “I barely even noticed, and you…how?”

Zhenya glances to his left and immediately regrets it, because Sid’s got one hand down his own pants and is stroking himself off. His other hand is braced against the dashboard, almost like he’s stopping himself from reaching for Zhenya.

Shaking his head to clear the fog, Zhenya focuses back on the road. Just a few more turns and they’re home. “Since last year I’m notice you more,” he says plainly. “You know, when Anna and I break up, like, you’re smell so much more to me than before.”

Sid groans in response, and Zhenya skids up his driveway so fast he scatters gravel everywhere when he brakes.

“I never stopped noticing you,” Sid gasps in his ear when they finally make it to Zhenya’s bedroom and Sid’s got him pinned down to the mattress, frantically ripping at his clothes to get them skin-on-skin. “I shouldn’t have told you we had to stop, you were mine and—fuck, god, you should have been mine this whole time.”

“Shh,” Zhenya soothes, arching his back to rub along Sid’s body and tilting his head to one side to expose his neck. He gets to watch in real-time the way Sid fixates on his scent gland, the way his pupils dilate even more and his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.

Zhenya was happy in his relationships. Perfectly satisfied, genuinely in love. He doesn’t regret them. But there had been a part of him that never let go of Sid.

It’s all instinct the way he spreads his legs, purring enticements as Sid clumsily lines up and moaning as Sid sinks into him too fast, the stretch painful and so good. Sid was always a little careless during his ruts, always a little more selfish than he’d probably care to admit to being with his lovers, and Zhenya missed the rough treatment, missed the way Sid took what he wanted.

He’s going to be sore tomorrow. He won’t skate well, won’t score again, and he’ll have to listen to Sully scold him for yet another disappointing performance in front of their home crowd.

But Sid’s teeth are scraping over his scent gland, and Sid’s knot is swelling inside him, and Zhenya can’t bring himself to care about anything else.

[love-and-doom]

Tolkien's fandom may have created the opposite of woobification and I really need to figure out why because this is the first time that I stumble on people actually wanting to reduce a hot male villain to a irredeemable caricature Often villains played by attractive white males (or describe like one in books) are excused of about anything and turned into poor little things that can't help but act like they do because everyone is so fucking mean to them In this vein all is forgiven Rape, murder, whatever But over here people will try their darn best to shut any discussion of sauron that hasn't him pinned down as mustache twirling unfeeling black hole and this confuses me so much Is possible to understand why a caracther acts like he acts and even sympathize with them in a way without having to excuse their actions and agree with their pov Why seeing Sauron (that canonically begun as pure and full of ligth like none of us simple humans will ever be) as a complex individual that still is capable of goodness (and still chooses evil wich to me it only makes worse) and consider that his time under Morgoth has left a mark upon him seems to bother people so much ? I've said before but I will repeat myself Sauron's intentions are good and I find this absolutely terrifying He is not very different from Galadriel In the show both are willing to do anything to achieve what they consider to be the the best thing Both are self righteous and have a fanatical faith that themselves and no one else knows what is best for middle earth Both refuse to listen to others and are single minded in their pursuit of what they find to be their destiny and don't make me go trought their entitlement and appetite for violence The difference between him and Galadriel is obvious Morgoth but even more deeper than that is that gal have experienced love and is surrounded by friends that despite their own flaws always pushes her back to the ligth Poor Mairon never had that And no me feeling for him in this way don't make me an idiot that is fooled by him To me Mairon's/Sauron's tragedy is that he never had a village to civilize him He never learned love and now he confuses power with goodness Love with ownership and care with tyranny He really wants to get things right but he can't do it since no one taught him and now he chases to fix what's broken in middle earth so maybe whatever is broken inside him may also be healed and this won't happen because he is destroying himself as well as the world he is trying to save

[monophobix]

Ekko and Mel......now that was personal. They really gave them the Magical Negro™ treatment and no time to explore it. And oh boy, am I tired of it. I hate the narrative of black characters having to self-sacrifice for people who would not do the same for them. Could you imagine being fucked with by something like the Arcane or LeBlanc for allegedly a year or so,just to immediately go to war the moment you're back in normal surroundings? Do they get a break at all? Like damn.

Neither of these characters nor their trauma was ever taken seriously. I haven't forgotten how this fandom acted towards Mel in season one because of her entanglement with Jayce and the blatant slut-shaming and misogynoir that came with it. Nor have I forgotten how Ekko and his dynamic with Jinx was hyped up for the past three years to market season 2, just to barely get screen time in said season (outside saving everyone's ass in the finale).

(Insert the Rose McGowan saying "Imagine how tired we are" meme.)

ok so there are some aspects of this that i agree and disagree with

- the self-sacrificing part i disagree with. yes both characters have miserable endings but other characters also sacrificed themselves for others i.e. jinx, viktor, jayce so i don’t think this specifically is just a mel and ekko thing. i also do believe that atleast ekko has characters who would 100% sacrifice themselves for him aka jinx, maybe vi. as for mel, she is very alone and it’s miserable but she’s also the character most likely to be in the show forwards (noxus seasons) so i doubt this is the end for her.

- i agree that we should’ve seen more consequences of what they went through. the black rose and mel and leblanc deffo should’ve had more emphasis and it’s really annoying we didn’t actually learn shit about that. again, hopefully the noxus show will elaborate. as for ekko, we did get an entire episode focused on him but i still agree that we should’ve seen more from when he got back. with the amount that timebomb was hyped up we absolutely should’ve seen more of it and the fact we didn’t was a massive shame and entirely netflix’s fault (the finale was supposed to be over an hour but was forced to be cut down). i rlly hope they release those scenes :((

- i agree that the fandom definitely needs to fix up on mel. i understand people disliking her when season 1 released because there were a lot of unknowns but anyone who hates on mel just to serve jayvik deserves to be shot maddie style. you don’t have to like a character but people also need to learn to not be a misogynistic twat too.

generally, i get where your coming from because things were really rushed and we didn’t get to see as much development as was actually written, but i don’t see it as a race issue since it’s not only mel and ekko who were done dirty like this but also many others (vi, jinx, isha, sevika) who didn’t get the on screen time they deserved. idk lol

[pinkjamblesss]

the isolation he felt in 2020 when he had to look his coworkers in the eyes and have to explain to them why his life mattered and they just went “nope”. he didn’t have to do that. lewis and any person of color especially black people don’t owe you an education on racism. yet, everyone makes it our job to always “educate”, to always “understand” bigots, to be the one to “change” them. all the emotional labor always falls on us with very little support back.

then 2021 happens, and that absolute shitshow. the sport showing exactly who they are. and he still came back in 2022. lewis hamilton is a better person than me. none of the other drivers especially certain drivers who are racists themselves, surround themselves with racist people, and have a racist fanbase will ever have my respect as a person.

p.s. i don’t give a singular fuck about the swearing ban. and i will hold a grudge that this is what the drivers decided is the most important thing to rally behind. but apparently the racism in the sport can be swept under the rug. “i’m oppressed because i can’t swear”. “i get criticized because i have the wrong passport”. your white drivers get the smallest amount of feeling discriminated against or have unjust things done to them…and they’re losing their minds. imagine how it feels to be discriminated against for your skin color.

[thisoldplace]

I think growing up with the peak of "furry/feminist/therian/animation meme cringe compilation" along with the entire art community making fun of mary sues and sparkle dogs and basically anyone who was a little kid with fun and whimsey really fucked with me putting myself out to the public and sharing my ocs and art. I feel like because I would watch those videos constantly, not even because I thought they were "cringe" but because I looked up to everyone in those videos so much for being able to be themselves, made me more scared to be open about myself. I've been terrified to post my art until a few months ago because I was terrified of being plastered all over the internet for being a "weird" beginner furry artist, I'm less scared of that now because I know to avoid instagram, tiktok, and twitter since those places are ruthless but I still can't bring myself to share anything about my ocs because of seeing what happened to people during those times.

I remember when I was maybe around 7 or 8 I learned about therians for the first time through those "cringe" compilations and I thought the beings in those videos were the coolest creatures I have ever seen, I wanted to be just like them and be so open about being a thing but because I was surrounded by all the hate in those videos as well it made me want to hide further from being perceived by anyone. But I still think about all of the wolves I used to see showing their shifts, making videos with their packs, doing quads and vocals, etcetcetc and I'll always look up to them for being themselves. I want to thank everyone in this community for being yourselves and being so welcoming, I want you to know how much you help others 💚

[genderqueerdykes]

my moms bisexual in denial but i dont think that counts

you know, it's an interesting conversation topic, because i just brought up my own mom who was in denial/in the closet about her identity, too. i do think it counts, even if someone hasn't come to accept it, themselves, because it's there and it's happening whether or not that person accepts it. obviously you don't want to tell your mom who they are and how they identify, but it can be pretty easy to pick up on someone who is queer but hasn't accepted it

my mom was exactly that, too. my mom was a closeted butch lesbian in denial. she would constantly tell me that she wished she could live with, date, and marry women. she told me numerous times throughout my life that she wished she could just marry a woman and surround herself with women. she was very butch, never wore makeup, barely wore accessories/jewelry, almost always wore men's clothes, or women's clothes that looked androgynous. always wore her hair short. she got very scared when i started presenting like a butch lesbian because she saw something reflected in herself that she was scared to admit. she even told me as a kid that i needed to not dress butch because people would assume she was a butch lesbian and call her out for it. you can see that the denial ran deep with her.

it's unfortunate because i feel like we really could've bonded over that, but she's not with us anymore. so all i can really do is think back on how she was too scared to live her true life, and how i just can't do that to myself. my mom lived in a progressive enough state that she would not have had much issue marrying another woman. but she was unfortunately scared to step out of the closet, and many people live those lives. my sister is the same as my mother. she has parroted the exact same things my mother has said, plus, when i was in high school, we had a day where we were supposed to wear a specific color to show support of queer students. when i asked my sister if she had a shirt in that color and explained why, she actually asked me

"Why would you support people who choose to be gay?" in utter confusion, i blinked at her, and went "What, do you wake up every day and choose to be straight?" and i kid you not, she proudly put her hands on her hips and said "Yes, I do!" it was so painful to witness. i wish I had told her "So you... aren't straight." i wish i had had the courage to tell her that's not normal and that if you have to wake up every day and choose to be a specific sexuality, you're lying to yourself. her perspective on queerness never really got better, espcially after i transitioned, but that's a story for another day. my sister blew my mind that day... i realized i had 2 queer family members who were scared shitless to admit it and instead of accepting it, they took it out on me.

sorry for the ramble, but i just wanted to bring up my own experience with this because i'v eknown my mom has been a closeted butch lesbian my entire life and it's something that moves me. she lived her entire life in denial, start to finish, and was never able to be herself. i'd say it saddens me, but it doesn't. it motivates me to always be my most authentic self. because living a life that's not yours isn't living. my mom could've potentially have been a much happier person, but fear kept her trapped in her misery. i don't want to do that to myself

[lukeria314]

“People live to save themselves from death.”

If Dazai didn’t trust Chuuya, could he keep him near to his “blind spot”? I don’t think so.

Dazai analyzes everything, always. He constantly thinks, thinks, and thinks, and he wouldn’t overlook Chuuya if he were a real threat. Because:

Dazai surrounds himself with these thoughts, subconsciously grasping at every chance to avoid death. Oda’s words apply to Dazai more than anyone else. He thinks and analyzes, exposing himself to risk, but always finding a way to survive—to keep analyzing further. He lives through this constant analysis, building a shield around himself to protect his unraveling mind from death.

His brain is split between two obsessive thoughts: to die or not to die. And while he tries to steer everything toward the first option, he inevitably ends up choosing the second—bringing himself back to life, over and over again.

[onehundredwishesss]

How to make people fall in love with you

• Take care of your appearance: The first thing people see you are your looks. Looks do matter and the halo effect is real. Buy clothes that matches your body type and your skin color, use makeup that matches your skintone and find a hairstyle that matches your face.

• Show interest in them: People love to talk about themselves. Ask open questions and listen to what they say. People love to feel listened to and to feel cared for. Tell a bit about yourself to make them feel related to you.

• Create a positive and open aura: You need to work a lot on yourself in order to create this kind of aura, otherwise you will look fake. Life is already hard, they don't want to make their lives harder by surrounding themselves with problematic people, that's why they want to be with you. Make sure to protect your energy and be careful who you let in!

• Be detached: Be okay with the idea that not everyone will like you, and that some people will walk away from you. Be ready to walk away from people that are no longer good for you. The vibe between you and someone else should be natural, not forced.

[itsrlymine]

HAI BESTIE ITS 🪐💜 AGAIN!!!

omg ur post abt not calling it desires bc it’s already yours so wtf are you desiring… EXACTLY!!! LITERALLY THAT!!

I always had this sort of cognitive dissonance when it comes to talking abt like the concept of wanting something and “trying to get it” when in all reality you don’t want something you already have.

Also I wanted to mention this little trick I use to help for people who have a hard time or just aren’t used to affirming something to themselves if they’re too caught up in the “3D” or whatever!! For all y’all ‘logical’ people this might work for you

Basically I spew out a list of stuff that I know are undeniable fact and include whatever it is I manifest in that list so my brain will receipt it as a fact as well! There is a psychology term for this where your brain will categorize something based on the surrounding information/context but I forgot what it was called LMAOO

Essentially I tell myself something along this:

“The sky is blue. I have a phone. I breathe oxygen. I have 2 living parents. I’m sitting in my apartment with (partner) rn. I graduated highschool. Grass is green. I’m good at art. it’s snowing outside right now. I’m a millionaire. My sister is 14 years old. I ate scrambled eggs for breakfast. Water is made up of one hydrogen atom two oxygen atoms. I know how to braid hair. I’ve got a huge following on social media. My friends are (insert names), I love my friends. I’m friends with (celeb.) ice is cold. Fire is hot. I have a masculinely androgynous body. My family is accepting of queer people. I am Arab. My family isn’t religious.”

Etc etc, it really helps me feel comfortable with understanding how it is FACTUAL I have it regardless of what the 3D shows me or not!

( something I find so funny is how since i deal with psychosis, in my episodes I tend to think of everything as fake and a simulation. and though I’m not having an episode I still think of the 3D and 4D with that lens bc this shit is just a slow ass loading simulation fr! Like I already changed and clicked and did whatever I changed but it loads slow as hell so although I’m not seeing the changes I know it’ll show up bc it has to)

babes.... when i tell you i do the same exact thinggggg! I list out facts that I know with ones that align with what I've manifested to prove to myself that I don't have to feel any inherent thing, just be and think as the person who has something they wanted. It's so great and just shows you how everything is truly just our assumptions of them.

[writerandbaka]

The jackal and the witch AU ～ Tighnari and Cyno 💚💜

I have sketched out a reference sheet for witch Tighnari and jackal Cyno! Soon I'll draw those of other characters as well for future chapters! ฅ(◕ᴥ◕)ฅ

And as promised, here are my headcanons for this AU:

Magic is basically a component of every living being and manifests itself in different amounts and shapes in different individuals

Magic is invisible to humans. However, some humans are able to perceive it

Humans who know how to use their own magic and that of their surroundings, shaping it to their liking, are called "witches"

"Witch" is a generic word used for people of any gender without distinction (gentleman, ladies, non-binary specimen etc…)

Through spells, witches can shape magic to alter reality

There are mainly two types of spells: those that are free and uncontrolled, and those that are infused in potions

A free spell is easier because it applies directly to reality, which is thus modified at will. However, it’s more difficult to be controlled and managed if you don’t have good control over your magic

A spell infused in a potion is more controlled and specific than a free one. On the other hand, however, it's more difficult to achieve the desired effect this way

Generally, spells are temporary. That means that the magic that shapes and changes reality tends to resume its original form within a certain period of time, returning reality to its original state too

A permanent spell is consequently more complicated and difficult to accomplish. Permanently altering reality requires a good deal of magical power to force the magic of the environment to change shape forever

To perform a spell, the witch's magic influences the external magic, and weaving them together can have a different effect on reality

The witch's personal emotions are very important and act as a catalyst to manage and control magic itself. If one doesn’t have good control of their magic, when they use it, the environment magic can take over from the witch, taking command of the course of the spell and dragging the witch to its will

Spirits are creatures able to see magic, being themselves made of pure magic

Spirits come from the spirit realm, a realm separate from the earthly realm of Teyvat. They can descend to earth only when the veil between the two realms thins, during full moon nights

Spirits can take corporeal bodies only through a contract with a witch, thus becoming "familiars"

The form the familiars take depends on many factors, the character of the witch, their amount of magical power, etc. But they are always only animal forms

To enter into a contract, the witch and familiar set their own conditions (a wish, specific needs, etc.) and when these are approved or met by both parties, the contract is finally sealed

The contract between a witch and a familiar is also manifested by two small objects carried by both of them, which can be jewelry, accessories, etc.

Having a familiar is not mandatory for a witch. The spirit simply helps them control their magical power by giving them an extra dose of magic to draw on and helping them stabilize their own

The witch and the familiar share strong emotions and feelings through their bond

The witch and the familiar cannot be excessively physically distant from each other for long periods of time

The contract between a familiar and a witch binds them inextricably until the death of one of them, usually the witch. In some cases, spirits too can also die if their magic is absorbed or corrupted due to a curse

Curses are nothing more than enchantments or spells whose effects are usually negative for the creature they are aimed at

Curses may be the cause of the presence of exceptions to what has just been written so far 

The Akademiya is a witchcraft school, where students of any age can be admitted to learn to study magic

The council of Sages, or senior professors, are bigoted people who are in charge of school management, often bypassing the principal when the latter is not physically present

There is tension between the principal and the current council of Sages, for a variety of reasons

So, no visions for this AU, but each character still has different aptitudes for certain types of elemental magic rather than others

That’s all!!✨

I won't spoil anything more about the plot, but these are pretty much the things to keep in mind as the story progresses. All of them will be picked up as we go along at various points, so don't worry, I will specify everything again at the right time, so that you can appreciate the fic even without the need of this post (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

Oh btw, If you haven't read it yet or if this sketch has made you curious about this AU, here is the first chapter of the Ao3 fic I am talking about! The next chapter will be posted on Monday and is already basically ready! Can't wait for you to read it!!!🪄🌱💕