#she's actually me!!!! but i do freak out when i see them

[butchvampireheimerdinger]

okay hear me out…butch4butch Sevika where Sevika is a power bottom???👀 reader is taller and stronger than her but very shy and intimidated by her🙈

Pairing: Powerbottom!Sevika x gentle giant-service top! reader

Warnings: ns/fw, fingering, cunnilingus, grinding/dry humping, smoking, mentions of violence, and horny lesbian activityyyy

Word count: 3k

A/N: Love you. Love this. You have come to the right place for this one, my friend. The lack of butch4butch Sevika content is criminalll if that woman has a type it begins with D and ends in Y-K-E-S. Anyways, how appropriate is it that my first fic is butch4butch Sevika smut. Checks out. (that being said, it is my first fic so you freaks betta be NICE) Now without further ado…

You Have No Idea

By ButchVampireHeimerdinger

It was the slow ending to an eventful shift at the last drop. Customers were in good spirits all night, likely due to a sudden influx of Piltie goods some gang had rattled up through more or less honorable means and was making its way through town. In any case, the energy was contagious and it had you, the buff and generally even-tempered server/bouncer, doing things you didn’t normally do. Like drink on the job — just a beer you had been nursing for over forty minutes — and fraternize with patrons. Y’know, other than the obligatory how are you, do you wanna pay out now or open a tab. Real actual conversations -- which led you to number three on the list of Things You Don’t Normally Do; you were hunched over the bar playing Texas Hold ‘Em with three regulars. Two were men, you didn’t remember their names, but they always came to the bar at about this time. A package deal — they snickered in your direction as a nearby shady-looking customer walked out on his tab.

“Hey, isn’t that your cue, tough guy?” The man gave you a patronizing sort of eyebrow raise as he dealt the next round.

Technically, it was. You got hired pretty much on account of your physique — you were 6’3” and a tank, always had been. Broad shoulders, biggest girl on the playground growing up, you gained muscle at the drop of a hat. You didn’t even try. But it was all for show. You were more of a lover than a fighter. Sometime in the first few months of the job the staff discovered you were better equipped to work inside the bar. Customers liked you because you were polite, a breath of fresh air from the culture of animosity that permeated the undercity. Still, it didn’t help your ego in situations like this. ”Hey, you don’t know what she’s got under her sleeve.” The third voice at the table spoke up. The right hand of Zaun. Sevika.

She had been a regular since before you started and probably would be long after. You had heard some pretty nasty stories about her and the things she was capable of. But when she came up to your counter for a drink, she came without malintent, always respectful to the waitstaff. It was disarming. Tonight, especially, your eyes lingered over her toned shoulders and sharp collarbones.You wanted to run your hands over them, to see how her body would react. And maybe it was the house IPA you had been drinking, but probably not.

Sevika gestured toward your dwindling pile of poker chips with her chin as she looked down, analyzing her hand. “Clearly, she must be the type to play the long game.” This earned her another light fit of snickers from bar idiots one and two, but they were easily impressed. You rolled your eyes.

Sevika raised two chips. The table matched. She spoke again.

“So, tough guy, do those arms of yours get you any female attention? Since you’re obviously not using them for any other tactile purpose,” her eyes traveled to the empty seat where the tab-skipper had been sitting.

You shrugged, suddenly warm and very aware of your body and not sure where to rest your gaze. “I get around.”

For some reason, tweedles dum and dee found this hilarious, and howls of laughter followed. You slapped your hand over your heart and feigned a look of deep hurt, to mask the bit of real hurt you were feeling. Yeah, it had been a while, but surely not long enough to warrant that response.

“Is it that implausible?”

Sevika chuckled and shook her head, but her expression was good-natured.

“Just make your move, Casanova.”

You had a full house. Three aces. Two kings. You matched, and didn’t raise.

Sevika raised, the men matched, and you folded.

The table revealed their hands and Sevika won the pile with a straight. Not a bad hand, but the round would’ve been yours if you had taken the risk. Sevika clicked her tongue, scolding you, which made your palms sweat. You averted her gaze and became suddenly interested in wiping down the bar.

Following your pitiful defeat, the two guys payed out, leaving the bar empty save for you, Sevika, and a couple stragglers who always stayed until morning and probably didn’t have anywhere else to spend the night. To your surprise, the woman beckoned you over once more. Something in your heart lifted. Something in your pants dropped.

“Blackjack?” She pushed the cards toward you, and her dominant sort of gaze made you feel, once again, compelled to do what she asked.

You won the first few rounds. Sevika was risky to a fault. If it wasn’t 21 exactly, trust she would draw. And she always made you the dealer, watching your hands intently, hungrily, even, as you shuffled. The third round was a tie, but she didn’t have anything left to raise.

“Tell you what,” she said. “You win this round and I’ll spread it around that I walked out on my tab, and you chased me down and kicked my ass for it. Should prevent other situations like our friend earlier, at least for a while.”

“Are my bouncer abilities really that pathetic?” You picked at the side of your nails. Sevika’s gaze pierced through you and you found it difficult to meet her eyes. But you didn’t necessarily hate the way her eyes took you in. Slowly and deliberately, like you were a battle map and she was trying to parse out her strategy.

“And if you win?” You looked up, all innocent. Maybe you imagined it, but your doe eyes seemed to rile her up a little bit. Something in the way her jaw shifted, the way she rubbed her flesh palm on her pants.

“Already planning for defeat? See, this is exactly your problem. You’re talking through a universe where you lose before we’ve even started.” She shoved her pile towards you again.

“Deal ‘em.” She commanded, you obliged.

“I’m serious! I just wanna know what I’m agreeing to. Fools rush in, and all that.” Your voice made everything sound like a question. With her, it was. Sevika was hard to figure out.

“You’re cute. If I win, I want…” The woman took a hit of the blunt she was holding and used it to gesture, her movements creating little loops of smoke that rose and dissipated. Her eyes followed them, and not you. For once.

“I want an hour. With you. N’ those arms.” You jerked while shuffling, accidentally knocking over your beer in your surprise. You picked it up quickly, hoping she didn’t notice.

“You serious?”

“Deadly. Fuck me up, Casanova.”

She won. Wasn’t even close. Three sevens, if you could believe it. As soon as you slapped the last seven down, you both shot up from the counter at light speed and she followed you to the back.

“A little eager, aren’t we?” Her voice was low and husky, but with a little something else.

“Sore winner,” was all you could think to respond. You shoved her lightly. She shoved you harder with her prosthetic arm. The two of you kept at it, pushing and shoving back and forth as you practically raced to The Last Drop’s back office. Play-fighting, like you were “one of the boys,” but it had a bit of a bite to it. Like you wanted to eat each other alive.

The office was hardly used except for the rare moments when staff wanted to crunch numbers. Or, of course, engage in extra-professional affairs like this one. That couch had seen some things. You fiddled with the key for what was apparently a moment too long.

“I’m getting bored out here, Casanova.” You looked into Sevika’s eyes through her thick brows, a couple inches below yours. You slammed your shoulder into the door and it gave way immediately, with a satisfying bang as it swung open. Sevika followed, grabbing you by the shirt as she brought your lips down to hers, hard, and kicked the door shut behind her without looking.

She dragged you toward her, her back pressed against the peeling drywall. Her tongue dragged against your bottom lip and something deep in your pelvis vibrated in anticipation. One of your hands reached up to the wall, to keep you both steady. Sevika grabbed your other hand and guided it under her tank top. You squeezed her breast, tracing over her nipple with your thumb. Your bodies pressed together and you brought your knee in between hers, rolling your hips forward and pressing your leg into her crotch. She moaned into your mouth. Like her voice, it was deep and gravelly.

You set a pace. Her hips seemed to agree with it, bucking upwards to get that friction where she needed it most. Her hands gripped your waist and hips as she started to manhandle you, making you move faster against her. Your kissing was frantic and sloppy, like there was anger behind it. Your lips shined with her spit, and you moved to kiss up and down her neck. She reacted with a throaty panting noise when you got to a sensitive spot — a fleshy and soft area where her jaw met with her neck. You twisted your head to the side and downward to get better access, to fully exploit that weakness. Without fully thinking through your actions, your sucking collapsed into biting. You drove your teeth into her neck and Sevika’s jaw shot upward as her panting became gasping. She grabbed the back of your head and pushed it harder against her neck to say what she couldn’t; more, more, more.

Your hands fumbled with her belt and she noticeably did not help you with it. It was like she got a kick out of watching you struggle. You finally got them unzipped and you reached under to start palming her through her boyshorts. She had already soaked through. Good.

You pulled away to look down at her again while tugging lightly at her waistband. You raised your eyebrows to ask, May I? Chin still tilted upward, she nodded, huffed out a “yuh” sort of noise, and hooked her leg around the back of yours to bring your chests closer, all rough.

You pulled down the panties and your fingers dipped into her folds. Sevika’s eyebrows knitted even closer together, if that was possible. You continued sucking and working that spot on her neck. Her lips were against your ear and you heard her panting grow more desperate, more melodic; whines and vocalizations mixed with the gruff and grainy rhythmic in-and-out of her breaths.

Your middle and ring finger sort of skated all around her entrance, just barely avoiding her swollen clit. You took in the sight — Sevika’s heaving chest, her eyes closed as she chased the pleasure you were giving her. Her moans grew to something not exactly desperate, that wasn’t like her, but deranged and shameless. She panted like she was breathing fire. And like she didn’t care if all of The Last Drop could hear her, even though they probably couldn’t.

The pulse of her hips grew a little more erratic and she shifted her legs like she was ready to switch positions. You gestured subtly with your head toward the couch, and she dragged you toward it.

The woman collapsed on it and rested her arms outward, elbows relaxed on top like it was a throne. She leaned as far back as she could as you helped work her pants and boyshorts all the way down until they dropped to her ankles. She pulled her shirt off with both hands, pulling it up and over from the back of the neckline. She threw the tank top to the side and all of the air left your lungs, as you took in the sight of her upper body. Where you were buff, she was cut. Unlike you, Sevika didn’t have the type of figure that was imposing simply by nature — her physique came from blood, sweat, and tears. She had the body of a bruiser, of someone who spent their life fighting. The Sevika before you made you realize why some of the patrons kept their distance. But it somehow made you want to get closer. It made you want to please her, and to be good at it.

Sevika had a manspread going and you dropped to your knees in front of her. But she wasn’t having that — not yet. With her flesh hand she grabbed you by the throat and dragged you up to her lips for another messy kiss. Your teeth clashed together and when your tongues made contact, you felt those butterflies low in your pelvis. You moaned into her mouth instinctively, and it came out higher and breathier than you expected. You felt her lips form a slight smile against yours and she released her hold on your neck, making you drop down to your knees. You were certain the impact must have shook the entire city block.

Breathing heavy, you went to start kissing and sucking at her inner thigh, but she tilted your chin upward to look at her. Breathless, she commanded,

“Take your shirt off for me, Casanova. I wanna see those arms while you… Yeah.”

You fought the smile forming and stripped for her. You took off your tank top and sports bra the same way she had — in one fluid motion, from the back. You were caught between a sudden wave of self consciousness and the urge to draw it out, to put on a show for her. You settled at maintaining eye contact as you subtly flexed for her, and placed your broad hands on her knees. Sevika smiled, all smug as she reached over to a nearby discarded vest, brought out the rest of her blunt, and lit up as her eyes poured over your exposed upper body. She inhaled deep using her metal arm, and with her flesh hand she traced over your biceps, satisfied.

All confident, you started on her inner thighs, taking your time. When your lips finally connected with her wet cunt, you heard her make a sharp exhale through her teeth. You kept going, first going over it all with a flat tongue, drinking in the moment, then using your tongue to explore her folds. Sevika let out a satisfied hum as you started sucking at her swollen, neglected clit.

That was when you brought your fingers up to her entrance, casually tracing, nothing else. That pissed her off.

Sevika slapped the top of the couch to get your attention. Your eyes snapped up to hers as she leaned forward to get all up in your face, with her signature sneer on.

“Did someone pay you to waste my time?”

You froze.

“That wasn’t rhetorical, I’m seriously asking you if some outside party with an interest in distracting me paid you to bring me here and do absolutely nothing with me.” You raised your eyebrows, eyes all wide and innocent. That made her groan, and she covered her face with one hand, your puppy eyes making her feel horny and desperate and a little guilty about snapping at you.

“Just. Fuck. Me.” She collapsed backward and you didn’t respond, just immediately did what she asked. You pushed your two fingers inside her without warning — hard. Again she exhaled through her teeth.

With your mouth, you continued giving her clit attention, and you pushed in and out of her, fingertips maintaining contact with her front wall, the one closest to you.

The sounds she made were pornographic, and it made you aware of the pool of slick that had established itself in the crotch of your boxers. Listening to her body, you gradually picked up the pace and you found Sevikas hand weave through your hair, grabbing you roughly at the scalp and pressing you closer and closer still.

Her face was angled toward the sky as she whined, her metal hand gripping the cushion tight enough to create what was probably going to be permanent ripples in the fabric. You brought her closer and closer and her grip on your head tightened as she bucked her hips upward, essentially fucking herself on your tongue and fingers. She occasionally let out a depraved vocalization that a trained ear might recognize as “fuck,” “don’t stop,” and “faster-FUCK faster.”

Until the pulse inside her cunt became erratic, and you felt a familiar tremor in her legs. You didn’t let up. You started fucking her deeper, with more pressure, using your tongue to play with her clit faster. Sevika’s thighs involuntarily snapped up to trap your head and you brought your hands up to brace them. Your tongue still moving as she cried out, loud and animalistic as she rode out her orgasm. Her thighs held you so tight against her pussy that you couldn’t escape if you tried, and the strength would probably have suffocated someone more petite.

Eventually, Sevika’s cries retreated back into deep panting and her legs dropped back to the floor, still trembling and spasming. She looked down at you, eyes half lidded, and gave you what could have been interpreted as a smile. She spread her arms back out on the top edge of the couch cushions, somehow still holding the half-smoked blunt. You shook your hair and a bit of ash fell out, which made you giggle. You were so invested in fucking her, you hadn’t noticed the active fire hazard against your skin the whole time.

With her chin, the woman gestured to the spot on the couch next to her. You settled in, your sides touching and your head leaning back against where her bicep was resting. She wrapped that arm around to bring the blunt to your lips.

“You can finish it, I don’t like the roach,” she said, and you obliged. You took a deep hit from her fingers and the last fiery bits assaulted your lungs, but you liked it. Sevika ashed it out on the couch, as if you hadn’t already desecrated it enough. You settled into a comfortable silence and she allowed you to lean your head on her pec, still uncovered. Until she spoke up.

“Promise me something, Casanova.” Her voice hoarse and gravelly from the earlier activities.

“Mm?” you responded. She wrapped her arm around you to reach up and ruffle your hair.

“Promise me you’ll never get good at cards.” You sucked your teeth and sneered back at her, giving her a hefty shove, which she gladly returned with equal force.

[deadhands69]

Concert Date Headcanons

Sure, being a pro hero (or villain) keeps everyone busy but that doesn't mean you won't have some time for fun.

Here are some concert dates feat: Kyoka Jiro, Katsuki Bakugo, Hitoshi Shinso, Izuku Midoriya, Eijiro Kirishima, Denki Kaminari, Shouto Todoroki, Mina Ashido, Ochaco Uraraka, Rumi Usagiyama (Mirko), Touya Todoroki (Dabi), Shuichi Iguchi (Spinner), Tomura Shigaraki, Himiko Toga, Shota Aizawa

(a few of these feel like friend dates to me, some not so much - take them however you want to.)

Jiro

She's in the band. You're watching from side stage, she'll run over to give you quick kisses in the longer breaks between songs and makes faces/inside joke references to you.

You're probably seeing her band, but If it's not a show she's performing in she likely knows the other musicians so you're still watching from side stage.

Bakugo

You know those couples where one is completely wrapped around the other? That's him. He's standing behind you, arms locked around you. Contrary to what you think, he won't completely freak out if anyone bumps into you guys (maybe when he was younger but he’s been to enough shows by now to know what to expect.) However, if someone's being overly aggressive or creepy he'll definitely step in. He'd never say but he's as excited as you are to see your favorite band. 

What are you seeing? Metal. Screamo. The harder, the better.

Shinso

You're in the back of room. If you weren't there, his arms would be crossed in front of him. But, since you're there he'll hold your hand or wrap an arm around your shoulder.

What are you seeing? His musical tastes vary so it could be nearly anything. He likes when you pick though because it's cute when you're excited.

Midoriya

He knows allll the band lore, every song meaning, and has his own interpretations. He'll tell you all of this too. He doesn't just want to be in the front, no. He needs to be in front. You're leaving with three guitar pics and a set list. 

What are you seeing? Probably pop punk but he really likes some older bands too.

Kirishima

Need someone to lift you crowd surfing? That's Kiri. He'll also put you on his shoulders if you can't see. 

What are you seeing? Something tells me he likes dad rock.

Kaminari

Sure. you're in public and surrounded in people but he won't stop making out with you. You're that couple now.

What are you seeing? Who cares, you aren't paying attention. (sorry you spent so much on my chem tickets when you didn't even watch the show.)

Shouto Todoroki

He loves dancing. It's canon. Poor dude didn't even know what a concert was until he was a teenager, so he'd like to experience as much of this as possible. He probably still has a ton of questions and wants to stand/sit everywhere in the venue to figure out where he likes best. Until then, he'll follow your lead.

What are you seeing? Any music. Literally anything. You'll probably have to pick. He particularly likes bands with angry at your dad lyrics though.

Mina

She is also dancing, but a bit more skilled. She doesn't mind teaching you some moves though! 

What are you seeing? Anything you can move to. this includes interpretive dance, the two of you are not above dancing to classical or soundtrack music.

Ochaco

You're crowd surfing together, holding hands. It's cute.**

What are you seeing? Probably pop punk/indie pop. Maybe Beebadoobee or Jiro's band.

(**author's note: please don't actually do this - i tried this with a girl once and it's not as cute irl/doesn't work. with her quirk maybe it could though!)

Mirko

She just dragged you into the mosh pit. How does she still have so much energy after fighting villains all day?? She get's it though and is more than happy to pull you to another part of the crowd whenever you're tired or it's too much.

What are you seeing? Preferably riot grrrl music, but she'll see anything you can mosh to.

Dabi

He's also in the mosh pit. However, he probably dumped his jacket and all of his belongings off on you. But don't worry, in exchange for being his personal coat check he'll buy you a shirt after.

What are you seeing? Something hardcore, probably dad angst lyrics too.

Spinner

He's standing off to the side. He doesn't really want to be shoved, he just wants to drink his beer in peace and watch the show. Don't worry though, he's more than happy to be included. You can come and go as long as you check in, he's not clingy.

What are you seeing? Anything with a good beat.

Shigaraki

He's a little clingy. In a cute way though. You can go wherever, he'll follow. Crowds don't really bother him. He's probably not dancing/jumping/etc as much as you but he's still enjoying himself. Unless it's a show he specifically picked, there's a chance he's watching you more than the band.

What are you seeing? Whatever you want. Or ambient weird shit if you let him pick (Aphex Twin, SUNN 0))), etc.)

Toga

She is in front, jumping up and down excitedly. You had a countdown. You waited in line all day. Now you're here! Is she plotting how to bite the singer and take some of their blood? Absolutely. But she's having so much fun and she doesn't get to very often so please take care of her.

What are you seeing? Anything with a lot of energy! Probably Poppy.

Aizawa

Is there a balcony? Are there seats? Yeah, he's definitely finding them. You turn to ask him a question and wait, he fell asleep?? It's a metal show. How tf?

masterlist

[kaliforniahigh]

Same anon, I found your original post and decided to try a prologue blurb for you as I was feeling creative 👉👈

you just moved into a new house and you take this picture of Noah, and after a couple of weeks, strange things start happening, like stuff moving on its own and suddenly your camera stops working and you can't sleep separately anymore and you can't be alone in the house because you're so scared

Search for missing 23-year-old gone cold.

The front page headline taunts you accompanied by the picture you took of Noah a year ago to the day. You don't bother to read the actual article, it's been the same regurgitated nonsense for the past year, the same speculations which throw a spotlight on you: prime suspect #1. No one believes you when you tell them the truth. You got tired of trying to explain, being scoffed at and mocked as you tried to defend yourself to members of a community in a town you wished you no longer lived in. You were the town pariah and chose to accept that. "Come on. Don't look at that." Nicholas' hand on top of yours pulls you back from your thoughts. "Don't do this to yourself." He knows what you're doing, that you're beating yourself up again. Since Noah went missing he's been at your side, you know it's because he lost his best friend that night too but you can't help but wonder if a part of him blames you.

This never would have happened if you had just left when it first started happening. You're convinced that this is all somehow your fault, because you weren't truthful about how bad things got inside that house when something would creep in with the darkness, whenever he wasn't home.

You don't answer. You sigh because you're tired of the same old merry-go-round of lies your conversations have become. He's been supportive and good friend, allowing you to stay at his ever since because you're too scared to be inside that house even once the crime scene tape was ripped from the door. You can't sell it because no one wants a house with an active missing persons case attached to it, or to buy from the girl who is their number one suspect. You'd rip it down if you could but know that if you did whatever that thing was living inside there would only find a new home, a new person to torment. Somehow you prefer to be the one in control of that.

When you look across at Nicholas you can see it in his face he wants to ask you about it again. Every so often he gets the same look in his eye, the one that tells you he wants to ask because he doesn't believe you when you tell him what happened the night Noah disappeared.

Maybe the fact he doesn't believe you stems from the way your answer never changes, nor does the infliction in your voice. You repeat it like you're reading from a script, you weren't awake when he was yelling, it was too dark for you to even see anything, you don't know where the blood came from, you don't know anything.

Truthfully, you do because you were together that night, the same way you had been for the last few months when the nights became to unbearable for you to sleep alone. You felt safer with him, or convinced yourself that you were. Nothing came when he was there and the night terrors and sleep paralysis had come to a stop.

"I know you've told me before but what actually happened that night? Maybe... maybe you missed something?" There's a crack in his voice which betrays his own emotion. You know he's fighting hard to believe you, to have sympathy. You feel guilty every time you hear that break in his voice because you want to tell him.

So you start recount the events of that night, like reading from a script, because the only thing you know is: you can't tell anyone the truth.

ANOON!!!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING????

I'm actually freaking out right now because this is PERFECT. You wrote it perfectly, I don't even have the words to describe it!!!!

Poor Nicholas and poor reader. And she was there too when it happened :( She felt so safe with him and then this happens? And when you mentioned the blood???

Please, come back whenever you're feeling creative again!!!!

[blossompedal]

God this fandom is falling apart omg why is it becoming so toxic? 😭 This show is my most special thing ever to me and y’all are actually ruining it with all these takes. Like I do agree with some things like the fact that they fucked up a lot in the writing this season and with a lot of characters arcs…

Caitvi situation: Yes this is my favorite couple out of the whole show but I do see their relationship felt off in this season. I don’t understand all the hate though and homophobia that’s coming out of nowhere. I’m not saying everyone has to like them because I don’t like other ships from the show like timebomb but I feel like when people express not really liking timebomb so many people freak out about it 😭 and also with the Caitvi sex scene I do think it was alittle off as much as I love it, but again I don’t think vi was supposed to know her sister was gonna kill herself plus before that Jinx literally gave Vi her blessing to be with Caitlyn. Her whole life Vis main focus as mostly been trying to find her sister and rebuild that relationship with her and the ONE time Vi prioritizes her happiness first everyone looks down on her for it 😭 (but yeah I do get them doing it in a literal jail cell was weird 😭)

Timebomb situation: I love Jinx and I love Ekko and even though they aren’t my fav characters or couple I still do appreciate them and love episode 7. But I hate everyone saying how Timebomb deserved a happy ending than Caitvi and other characters. Like I get it if they were my favs I’d be alittle upset too about the ending but I think their relationship was super toxic.. I mean in season 1 they literally tried to kill each other did everyone just forget?? 😭 Plus I think Jinx isn’t mentally well enough to be in a relationship rn.

Lots of characters and not just Timebomb didn’t get happy endings and I feel like that’s kinda realistic especially just after a WAR. Were usually those don’t end up all happy and jolly…I don’t think Vi got the happiest ending either. Like yes she’s happy with Caitlyn but she still lost her sister and father AGAIN.

Everyone in this show went thru hella trauma and deserve a break and a happy ending but unfortunately I think that would just be alittle unrealistic…

I really just want this fandom to go back they way it was when it first came out cuz omg 😭 and I don’t even care if I’m ranting too much I have a lot more to say than just this.

[tarastabz]

[dykedvonte]

I think the most baffling thing about the Tulpar as a vessel to me is the fact that the ship really did only have a one way communication system.

I know it was cheap but even the most basic of vessels regarding major transport would have some way, shape or form for outside communication. Not only that but there was absolutely no form of innate emergency signal to show they may have been offline or in trouble despite clearly having a system to dock credits if they went off course. It's another factor that really shows that bad situations are made to get worse by design. One person who is required to relay all information to the crew and make all the choices without feedback. No way to update or call for help in case of a dire situation. No way to inform of inner personal conflicts and acquire procedures accordingly.

It really is like they are all in some sort of fucked up solitary confinement. They have their own world with strict roles that are meaningless in the end, as long as the cargo makes it, it doesn't matter what happens on that ship to the company. They don't want to hear anything and will come to conclusions on what happened based on how much pay they can withhold from the workers. Even what they do send is short, sterile and corporate to the extent it was likely written and sent out with a command by some random unmanned computer in an office.

There's something to be said about how unfair it is to force absolute power and control onto one person when you as an entity could do so much more to offload it but I've said it many times before so I won't again.

[lala-blahblah]

I will never make this because it would be for an audience of one (me) but ever since reading "If we Were Villains" (story about serious drama kids in college who perform shakespeare and deal with a murder) I have been entertaining the thought of a crack fic crossover with High School Musical The Musical The Series where the staff decides they will no longer put on shakespeare after the tragic accident that happened at Thanksgiving, because Shakespeare plays would only increase the tension and drama. So they hire Ms. Jen who decides their spring play will actually be High School Musical (which exists in the 90s in this universe) and it ruins the vibe so much that everyone gives up on being dark and mysterious because they're universally pissed at Ms Jen for making them learn choreoraphed basketball dancing.

[aeolianblues]

was kinda thinking about this when I saw Renee Rapp live recently-- I didn't know her visual vibe, I'd heard a few songs here and there but I hadn't really *seen* her, and her attire at Osheaga was really casual, a jersey (baseball/basketball?) and slacks. And that was so amazing! I couldn't help thinking, the work Billie Eilish has done for how women in pop music are allowed to dress is incredible. Seeing her up there all comfortable you just know that Billie walked in her oversized tops so that Renee in her slacks could run; Billie walked through all the critcisms about how she dressed slobbily and having to assert that she didn't owe anyone a display of skin, so that Renee could be comfortable and unquestioned running up and down the catwalk in front of 10,000 people. How iconic.

And I don't think we even realised at the time how much something as simple as letting Billie dress the way she as a (then-) 17-year-old teenager dressed, could end up meaning for a future generation of women in music.

Obviously there is still way to go, there were weirdos complaining about how 'plain' Dua Lipa's Glastonbury outfit was this year (in 2024!!), l have to ask, are you at Paris Fashion Week?? She is the musical HEADLINER of an entire day of music at one of the biggest music festivals in the world, and you can't grant her the space to exist as an artist, you have to moan about her dress not being excitingly revealing enough. There's work to do, it's still dismal out there. But the space Billie Eilish has created for a most ordinarily-dressed woman popstar is still heartening.

[kavehater]

I’m going insane I actually can’t believe them !!!!

[loverboybrightsideghost]

"reblog for something lgbt to happen to you" at this point i'd be grateful if something straight happened to me

[lightblueminecraftorchid]

My roommate and I had a conversation last night and I keep rotating it in my brain and I Don’t Like It

[i-appear-misssing]

I just had the horrible thought that I need to fall in love because having devastating crushes on beautiful, competent, authoritative women that I desperately want to please is exhausting and I need it to stop

[born-to-lose]

I love being the always single person in my family, mad respect to my sister for constantly dating guys for the last 8 years, I would have shot myself

[icewindandboringhorror]

I still very loathe the Media Trope of ‘’cold genius man doesn’t feel emotions and never has relationships... UNTIL.. one random relatively bland Preddy Woman comes along and warps his entire personality and ability to think, his heart has grown and his seeming asexuality has evaporated, he is now Normal :)” or whatever like... AS a walking generic hermit archetype myself.. we would NOT act like that .... just let people be detached weirdos in peace, you cowards .. OR, don’t bother to write one in the first place if you find us too boring to exist realistically in our natural state lol.. pathetic 

[juniestar]

Oh my god one last thing my ex took me to outside lands and when we tried to watch lana del rey he laid down on the grass and had a “panic attack” (this was after months of him talking about how he didn’t like her) so we went to see foo fighters after a bit and he was FINE

[yuridovewing]

Feel like one of the best ways you can convince someone that no, villains with compelling motives that have sad backstories are not terrible writing compared to straight up born evil villains who just want to kill everyone and be done with it, is to tell them that Warrior Cats writes born evil villains constantly while literally preaching “That’s how evil works, you can’t CHANGE, you’re either touched by demons at birth or you aren’t!” and it blows chunks