#I'm on the top of the privilege pile

[counterpunches]

As someone who wanted to be pregnant,

tried very hard to get pregnant,

is very lucky and happy to finally be pregnant,

who is eagerly anticipating the arrival of a baby,

one thing I've come to believe more firmly than ever before (and I very much did before, but now understand in a much deeper, intimate way),

is that no one should ever - ever - have to be forced to be pregnant if they don't want to be.

[caffeinated-bibliophile]

I'm still crying 😠

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Not too smutty but--

Shimmer!Kane is definitely the type to keep your bed "messy" by average standards but insists the blankets are arranged specifically to be a "nest".

Every time you remake the bed, twenty minutes later you come back and it's a mess again; blankets piled and arranged almost perfectly in the middle, pillows strategically placed for the most comfort...

You ask him why but he can't really tell you (instincts, duh!). But it's perfect to snuggle in! (And y'know nice and cosy to pound your brains out later if you want)

I am screaming over this!! (Also I'm so sorry this took me so long!)

Shimmer!Kane x afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals • Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • ko-fi •

A/N: My brain is just like is this a one shot? Is there a part two? What am I doing? Also I have to tag @ominoose just because all of their amazing Kane fics and head canons have just shaped my brain.

Warnings: pining, dry humping, over use of italics, typos, not beta read, railroad sentences, please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 811

“Kane, what the fuck?” You sigh, no real heat in your words. 

He looks up at you from where he’s crouched over the bed, the faintest hint of a quizzical expression on his features. 

“What are you doing?” 

He shakes his head a minute, obviously not understanding. 

“I just made the bed, and now you’ve,” you gesture half-heartedly, “done whatever this is.” 

The pillows were piled seemingly haphazardly in the middle, the duet cover bundled up. As you looked you realised that he had also brought the bedding from his own bed onto yours. 

“It’s fine when it’s just your bed, but can you not come in here and mess with mine?”

You’d been assigned to ‘monitor’ him, try to help him adjust back into everyday life after… whatever happened. You weren’t privileged with the details, or even the vague notion.

He continues to look at you with that quiet stare he had, like he was trying to read the dictionary definition for every single word you said. 

You sigh again, moving towards the bed and beginning to put your pillows back at the top of the bed. 

Kane stood quickly, putting his hand softly on your forearm to stop you. You stare at him, a small frown of confusion on your face. 

When he doesn’t say anything for a moment you move to continue your task, but his grip tightens. 

“Stop.” He whispers, his voice barely audible. 

Your frown deepens. “What? Why?” 

You swallow as he stares intently at you, his lips slightly parted, his pupils dilated. It’s only now that you realise how close he’s standing to you. 

“Kane?” You whisper, your heart thudding in your throat. 

He was handsome, of course he was. But looks weren’t everything. 

He was kind, considerate. He listened when you talked, did little things to be helpful, affectionate. He made you drinks without even asking, usually bringing them to you a second after you realised you were thirsty. When the temperature dropped close to freezing a few weeks ago, he’d warm blankets in the tumble dryer and bring them to you, offer you hot water bottles and put your slippers by the radiator when you weren’t wearing them. 

He liked to be in the garden, around plants and animals and taking care of things. The apple tree hadn’t stopped blossoming, despite its leaves coming in since he’d been here. The forget-me-knots hadn’t been hampered by the late frost. Bumble bees and butterflies gathered around the honeysuckle that had bloomed exceptionally early, its sudden growth spurt meaning it was now covering most of the back wall it leant against. 

You liked him being here. 

You liked him. 

Kane carefully placed his hands on your shoulders and gently guided you with your back to the bed before he slowly moved you, urging you to sit  and then lay in the middle of the pillows and blankets. 

You stared up at him, a little bewildered as he climbed in next to you. 

“Comfortable?” He asked in that soft voice of his, but you weren’t sure if it was really a question or just an affirmation. You nod your head anyway. 

He pressed his lips together, deep in thought for a moment on your reaction, before he moves to lay on top of you, pressing his thighs between yours and settling his hips against yours. 

You freeze out of surprise. He’s never done something so bold before. You look up at him, his nose barely an inch from yours. 

Your mouth goes dry, anxiety building under his heavy gaze, like a scientist looking at a specsamin in a jar. 

“Kane,” you whisper, “what are you doing?”

“Are you uncomfortable?” 

You shake your head without thinking and there’s a little flicker of emotion that crosses his face. Satisfaction, you think. 

“Why, erm,” your mind is short circuiting with him this close, the warmth radiating off his skin, the sweet, almost floral smell that permanently surrounds him fills your lungs. The way the hard outline of his cock presses against your core. “Why did you bring your blankets in here?” You blurt out. 

“Making a nest,” he says simply, like that was all the information you would need. “Wanted it to smell like us.” 

He dips his head lower, nuzzling against the side of your neck and breathing deeply. 

“A nest?” You gasp as he rocks his hips against yours, leaning closer so that your chests are flush. 

“Hmm.” He continues to run his lips and cheeks over your neck, feeling your skin and sighing contently. All the while he rolls his hips languidly, dragging his cock against your heat. 

You can’t hold back the shudder and whine as his fly presses deliciously against your clit. 

While it doesn’t hamper his movements, the sound obviously amuses him and he focuses his actions solely on making you repeat it.

Thank you for reading!

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @whatthefishh @romanarose @strangerhands @saturn-rings-writes @lonelyisamyw-0love @queerponcho @steven-grants-world  @eyelessfaces @angel-of-the-moons @minigirl87 @lunar-ghoulie @silvernight-m @autismsupermusicalassassin @apesarecuul @reallyrallyauthor @basicalyrandom @alwaysmicado @mangoslushcrush @marc-spectorr @soft-girl-musings  @spxctorsslxt @novarosewood

If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

[cher-rei]

afterglow- pt.2 [ T.A.A ]

pairings: trent alexander arnold × fem!reader

summary: young and aspiring marketing and business major jamie carter (you) is privileged with working alongside the liverpool marketing and public relations team while also getting entangled with their star player and right back, trent alexander arnold.

[wc: 2,1k] [part 1] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [part 6] [part 7] [part 8]

genre(s): friends?? to lovers, work romance, fluff

warnings: swearing

notes: guys I totally forgot that curtis has a girlfriend help💀 so I'm just gonna remove her completely and in here they're not together... it's for the plot I swear

"what the fuck?!"

"jamie!" your sister's voice echoed through the house to your bedroom that early wednesday morning. it was normal for her to scold at you whenever you swore anywhere near her. which was all the time seeing as the two of you shared an apartment.

you didn't bother apologising as usual though and sat up straight in your bed, your blankets dishevelled and a look of confusion plastered on your face. "no way," you gawked at your phone screen and ran your fingers through your hair to try and comprehend what had just happened.

"there's really no reason to be shouting at 7 in the morning." you brushed your sister's comment off, the older girl taking it as a sign to join you on the edge of your bed to see what had gotten you all riled up.

she let out a heavy sigh as she moved you over so that she could sit with you. "speak woman. I don't have all day."

you took a breath and turned to look at her, eager eyes staring you down for any sort of explanation you could give her. "Okay so basically I just woke up and obviously my first instinct is to check my insta and twitter notifications because I got a bunch."

she gave you a look. "which isn't anything new. probably just a few followers or something."

you pointed your index finger in her direction. "exactly. but then--"

you turned your phone in her direction, your twitter feed showing up. "--I saw that I was being tagged like crazy. only to realise that this whole liverpool pr thing is blowing up."

maya gave you another look. as if you to say 'what did you expect?'. she began to get up from the bed but you quickly caught her wrist and pulled her back down again, urging her to stay for the rest of the story.

"jamie," she sighed. "you have an entire fanbase, of course they're going to go crazy over something like this."

you shook you head. "that's what I thought. but then I decided to go check my instagram notifications because apparently..."

you turned your phone screen to maya, displaying your follower list and lo and behold right at the top, your most recents followers queued up.

"what the fuck?!"

you jumped up at your sister's reaction. "that's what I'm saying!"

jude bellingham was one thing. but the entire liverpool squad?? there was no reason for that to happen at all. you were just some random twitch streamer on the p.r team, nothing more.

was it because I kicked the ball on monday?? it was so because I kicked that ball on monday.

you weren't going back to the training center for a while though. there were too many errands to run and meeting to sit through. and today's meeting at 10 was sure to pile even more projects on your table.

the match on saturday against wolves was going to be a premier league match so a lot of preparation had to be done for the interviews. yesterday's meeting already gave you a headache so today was going to be something for sure.

"is jamie not coming in today as well?" curtis asked no one in particular while his eyes roamed the hallways, yet there was no sight of the girl anywhere.

from beside him, trent quirked an eyebrow and nudged his arm. "you're on a first name basis already huh? you work fast."

curtis scoffed at his comment, recalling mpnday afternoon's events all to clearly after jaimie had left. "hey I'm not the one who stalked all her socials the second she left."

"what?" trent raised his hands in defence. "she looked familiar so I had to check."

"who looked familiar?"

the two jumped up at the sudden question, their glares shot at dominik who had pushed in beside trent who only shook his head, not bothering to brush off dominik's arm that was slung over his shoulders.

"the new p.r girl," he answered and put his phone away.

"jamie?"

trent shot him a weird look and then to curtis who was smiling from ear to ear with an 'I told you so' look. "what so you're all just on a first name basis? how did that even happen?"

the conversation carried on until they got to the field and even during their warm-up session. but it still seemed off to trent who grew more an more confused whenever someone chimed in with an "are you talking about jamie?"

it didn't make sense to him. they barely knew her or had any decent conversations. what difference did asking about where she was from or how many siblings she had make? but either way, the team wondered why trent has such a big issue with it.

"did you guys know that jamie's a twitch streamer?"

"what the hell?" trent groaned in obvious frustration when ibou chimed in while they were doing their laps around the field.

"what? are you just going to call her 'ms carter' for the rest of your life?" ibou asked again with a low chuckle which got a small shrug from trent.

"obviously not. it's just that she's a staff member and has a job to do." he turned his head to look at curtis who seemed fed up either the mini lecture that he was getting, but he felt that it needed to be said.

"she's not here to be your friend or--"

"--I fully agree with you trent. I'm glad some of us have common sense," harvey retorted out of nowhere.

seriously. they didn't even know he was there. the smallest of the group was adorning a look of determination as he jogged alongside his teammates. one that screamed, 'I hate jamie carter.'

ibou scoffed from beside him. "oh shut up. you're just mad because she's taller than you."

the group couldn't hold back their laughter as they watched harvey go quiet, a look of defeat on his face as she shook his head to the side. he'd get her back. one day.

but with trent's issue, everyone's argument was that they were just trying to make her feel comfortable. and he could give them the benefit of the doubt there, he knew how fans tended to react to situations like this and their presence in general was probably a lot to her.

but there was no reason to be involved with her personally. okay so what if he was the first one to follow her on Instagram?? when dominik saw that he was stalking her account his first instinct was to take trent's phone and follow her, just to tease him.

but then everyone followed her so that was kind of pointless.

after a bit more back and forth banter curtis let out a sigh. "but either way, she's friends with jude in a way or something." he gave trent a cheeky smile and the right back couldn't help but roll his eyes, knowing very well where he was leading with this.

"and any friend of jude, is a friend of mine," he finished and put his hand on his chest causing ibou to laugh but oh boy he wasn't finished just yet.

curtis took a moment to clear his throat and looked behind their group to see dominik running along with darwin and cody, laughing about what ever.

"if this is like any movie I've watched, then someone is walking out with more than just a premier league trophy."

that earned him a harsh slap on the arm from ibou but he didn't care and instead ran up in front of trent, now taking the liberty to jog backwards to take him head on. "what do you say? are you going to keep that 'ms carter' thing up until she becomes mrs alexander-arnold"?

"boys!"

everyone immediately halted at the sound of virgil's voice booming from the front with robbo and salah. "am I going to have to chase you to make you run any faster?"

you sat in the meeting room that afternoon with your laptop in front of you and your attention drawn to the front where the projector was with the media teams director, marvin colesmen.

he was a a slender man no older than 40, with blonde hair that was styled to the side. he wore a polo shirt underneath his blazer with a very obnoxious pair of socks as well.

"regarding our performance, we're doing fairly well but there's much room for improvement. but let's all thank clara for the last minute camera replacement last week since the last one broke."

everyone at the table immediately turned to look at someone who you remembered to be shaun. all he did was roll his eyes, and judging by the death glares he was receiving he definitely broke that camera.

mental note: don't break anything. ever.

"ms carter?"

your head snapped to the front at the call of your name, a bubble of anxiety filling your stomach now that you were put on the spot.

"do you have any thoughts on anything I've said?"

thoughts?? I don't have any thoughts??

"uhm..." you sat upright in your chair as you trailed off to formulate a response. "I think that more attention should be drawn to the team's more laid back promotional content."

great answer.

marvin tipped his head to the side at the response in intrigue. "care to elaborate?"

not really.

you licked your lips as you thought. "coming from a supporter, the occasional training video and interview don't really attract attention."

you watched as marvin urged you on with a nod. "and I think we should expand our content to something more entertaining. it'll be more rewarding for them team that way as well, I'm sure they're tired of answering the same questions every other week," a small laugh left your lips but you immediately stopped.

the room was dead silent and the atmosphere was a little too hostile for your liking. it was obvious that everyone was waiting for marvin to either shoot you down mercilessly or agree with you. but the experience was nothing short of terrifying.

the director nodded his head and continued to mutter something to himself before sending you a smile. "I'm giving you a week to come up with entertaining alternatives. if you convince me enough, I'll give you what you need since you'll be with the team from next week onwards unless I need you. you'll be joining them on the trip to molineux saturday morning as well. I'm sure the fans wouldn't mind seeing you in the booth either."

what's that supposed to mean?

when the meeting was finally over you didn't waste a second and rushed to pack your things and get in your car. you needed to hurry if you wanted to miss the rush hour traffic but of course you were wrong and sat in the car for an extra 40 minutes. lovely.

by the time you got back home, you felt as if every bit of energy had be drained from your body. you dropped your keys onto the counter in front of the door and kicked off your shoes.

"jamie?"

you let out a groggy "yeah" and dragged yourself to the kitchen where your sister was finishing up supper. you didn't say much and took your usual seat on one of the barstools and rested your head on your arm.

"so," maya poked your head. "how was work?"

as an answer you gave her a mumbled run down of your day, and by the time you were done the only words she heard were "broken camera".

she let out a hum regardless to show that she was paying attention and continued to stir the pasta in the pan. "well a kid fell down the slide today. I know I'm the teacher but I still laughed."

you couldn't help but cough up a laugh at her sudden confession. you looked up at her with a smile and she slumped her shoulders. "I just hope no one saw."

by the time you had gotten out of the shower. finished your night routine and ate dinner you were surged with a sudden burst of energy and needed to get it out. after a bit of scrolling through your socials and interacting with your followers and a much-needed poll on instagram, you decided to start a twitch stream.

and boy did it lead somewhere.

[gctchell]

#red is the og. the VIP#one of the safest people I've ever met#spectacular writing and I've the privilege of being able to see the incredible progression#from the day we met to present day.#it's a while! and writing like hers is unforgettable. her Lilith and Niffty are delights#and she's taken what I liked about those two and intensified my love for them#only red can pile on reasons for me to love characters especially ones she takes on#an excitable writer and one of the best people u can meet. even if we're in hell.#and her improv???? I know I can count on her to roll with the punches. -- @jizzlords

#ive known red for some time even WAAAY before HH and they’re a wonderful person#great to communicate with and very loving and kind and open minded#wonderful writer to boot on top of all of that -- @therealricksanchezpleasestandup

i just signed on to the sweetest tags from some of the oldest mutuals i've had across my accounts. what the hell, yall. my darlings..

@jizzlords is wearing ozzie's skin. I mean that in the most complimentary way ever, because hel just pulls that man off with such ease it's like they're sharing the same body and he's just conducting the keyboard, taking down his autobiography online. the voice is crystal clear, you can hear iglehart in everything hel writes - down to the laughter.

hel loves this man and it is clear to see. the love for that muse is in there and the justice is being delivered right to the key. absolutely astounding portrayal, and hel even dives into ozzie being a fallen angel, and still having trauma from all that mess. hel gives him flaws, gives him green flags, brings him to life and makes him the icon of desire that he needs to be. I'm not surprised, though - hel's always knocked it clean out of the park when it comes to glamorous and iconic characters, bc hel is iconic. and just all-together so much fun to hang out with.

also, pssst: hel's writing is absolutely flipping beautiful. I've been lucky to be traveling alongside him for a long time now and watch it bounce from the characters he loves so dearly to the next. he's just gotten better, and he was already great.

@therealricksanchezpleasestandup is rick sanchez. I am not kidding lmao. you go onto that blog and it reads like rick. I've been a mutual of steffu's for.. god, a good few years, now? not even including the time on this account? and I have just watched her kick absolute ASS with this man. it's just like asmodeus and hel, it's another case of 'I think that man just lives in your skin and you're writing everything he tells you to', because damn. excellent portrayal, excellent handling, excellent managing of this man and his emotions, and just how messed up he is.

yeah, rick is a mess and steffu knows exactly how to write that while also making it so abundantly clear why and how it is that he has so many amicable relationships all over the multiverse. man knows how to juggle his personality traits and get those connections, find companionship in others that his family doesn't quite get to see that often - outside of morty. I always thought that was a pretty damn cool thing for her to cover.

because he's a universe jumper, it makes all the sense in the world that he has connects to others down here in hell. easy character to plug in with if you like rick and morty and want a rick to interact with. steffu has the man on lock, I am telling you.

[bl4cktourmaline]

❧ decorating cupakes w/ Tsukasa!

Mango *ੈ✩‧₊˚ AKA MODTSUKASA HERE :33 ☆

This is my first writing thingy on here so enjoy please! I apologize for the shortness^^

┊┊❁ཻུ۪۪♡ ͎. ｡˚ 　　°

☆ Prompt  // Decorating Cupcakes !^

₊˚⊹♡ SUMMARY ♡⊹˚₊

Tsukasa baked cupcakes but Nene had to bail at the last minute, so he called his friend! (Gender Neutral reader; written platonic but can be seen as romantic)

┊ ┊⋆ ┊ .┊ ┊⋆ ┊ .┊ ┊⋆ ┊ .┊⋆ ┊ ┊

You’re walking peacefully in the neighborhood, humming a small tune under your breath. You were currently walking to your friend's house, Tsukasa.

He’d given you a call around 15 minutes ago about how he needed help decorating some cupcakes for an event or something like that. That’s what you got from him and his short spew on call.

You walk up to his door, but before you could even attempt to knock, the door flew open, showing off the happy go lucky spirit, Tsukasa. "Here you are my wonderful assistant! Just on time too!”

You wave with a smile. “You asked me too, so I couldn’t leave you hanging.” 

“Thank you!” He nodded with contentment and waved you inside, closing the door after you entered. “I baked strawberry cupcakes, but Nene had to cancel for a last-minute event!” He sighed with disappointment but it was quickly changed to excitement. “Welcome to the original start of my dazzling career!”

“I'm glad I have the privilege of being in such estate.” You hum with bliss, following Tsukasa to the kitchen.

You pause in the doorway, feeling an intense dread for the project. The first thing seen was what seemed to be over 100 cupcakes on the kitchen island?! ‘No wonder why Nene bailed!’

“It seems a lot my remarkable assistant! But if you help me- a future and bright star- you can take some home of these delicious cupcakes once we finish the mission!” He grins as he runs to the fridge to grab the icing. It seemed to be pre-bagged white frosting… He must have done it last night or something. 

He passed you a few and you set up on the island. “As long as I get some cupcakes at the end, sure.” You look back at the cupcakes with a newfound determination.

Tsukasa grinned brightly as he cut the tip of the icing bag with scissors. “Let’s get icing then!”

 //////

Wrist cramping, you fell into a chair and sighed loudly. “My wrist hurts now.”

“You only did 20! I was even able to get more done!”

“20 is a lot of cupcakes!” Your eyes dart your attention to Tsukasa’s pile of cupcakes, all perfectly made with a bit of sprinkle on top. “How are yours so pretty?!”

He shrugged as he bit his lip, frosting another cupcake. “I used to make gleaming cupcakes with my mom in the past when she was free.”

You hummed softly, showing signs that you were listening to the blonde. 

“I can't recall doing it much though, maybe twice in total. I was always practicing my singing so it would became as amazing as it is today!” He said with pride, his eyes looking up, full of deterination.

“Well,” You grinned, standing up again, and grabbing another cupcake and the icing. “I’m so ready to beat you and make more.”

“I already have the head-start.” He said with a huge smile, already frosting more as he spoke.

You playfully stick your tongue out at him and begin icing cupcakes.

 //////

You sighed as you plopped back onto the seat, wiping your bangs back with your wrist slightly covered in frosting. “Finally! We finished!”

“And I won!” He loudly exclaimed, placing the icing bag on the table. 

A playful annoyed look slowly crept onto your face but faded quickly. “That's because you had a big advantage.”

Tsukasa smiled but sighed and sat down too on a nearby chair. “That wasn’t that bad though. A star must always be ready for future changes in schedule or difficulties!” Tsukasa said with his hand over his chest in a cocky, yet sweet way.

You smiled at his charisma and nodded. “Yeah!”

Tsukasa looked at the cupcakes closely before settling on one. He grabbed a cute-looking cupcake with pink, crystal sprinkles and passed it to you. “Here! My gift of gratitude from me to you!”

You took it without hesitation- craving this moment since he told you you could eat a few at the end.

You felt a sweetness in the cupcake, the icing overpowering the strawberry-flavored batter, but it still left a small hint of strawberry. “What did you put in the icing?” You asked as you covered your mouth with your hand.

“Sugar, vanilla… The basics. Does it taste funny?” He asked with a tone of dread.

“No no!” You say while waving your hand. “Quite the opposite actually. It tastes so good! Who knew you were such a good baker?”

“HA! As I say! A star is a star at everything! Acting isn't the only thing I’m good at!” 

You snort at him, turning away as he looks at you. “And I’m so funny too!”

“You wish!”

[whumppmuhw]

Whumptober Day 29: Bargaining

tw: master and servant, isolation, electric collar, controlling whumper, conditioned whumpee

"Sir, I hate it here."

"I don't see why. You have everything you need, and I don't have to punish you if you do well, which has been happening lately."

"I want to go outside, and connect with other people, and have a hobby, or something to pass the time. I've done so much for you that your demands no longer take up the whole day." Whumpee wanted much more than that, but they knew they couldn't have it all. So, they started small.

"Well, I don't see myself bringing in other servants - like you said, you're comfortably on top of the work pile. Going outside might be feasible, but it'd be hard to keep an eye on you. And as for a hobby, that would be fine as long as you would drop it as soon as I asked you to do something. What do you think?"

Whumpee's heart sank when they realized Whumper would continue to keep them isolated, but maybe they could work something out with the other two requests. "I could try to do yard work, and stay within the yard."

"Hmm, alright. Though I'd have to find a way to keep you on the property - how do you feel about an electric collar?"

"Ummm-"

"I say let's do it. That way we'll both be happy, right, Whumpee?"

"...Yes, sir."

"Good."

"About the hobby - may I take up painting? I used to do it all the time before...before I came here."

"I don't think so, that's a lot of materials I would have to get, and it would take up a lot of space. How about something else?"

"Reading? You have a large library, and I'm sure you're not reading all of those books all the time."

"Sure, but you'll have to get a book approved by me before you read it."

"Okay, sir."

"Is that good enough for you, Whumpee? I know you want to change things up, but you should be grateful for what you have already."

"I know, sir, and I am. Even without my requests, things are a lot better now than when I first came here."

"Good to hear. If you ever are ungrateful, Whumpee, I would hate to take away your privileges to teach you a lesson."

"Of course, sir. I promise I won't be ungrateful."

"What do you say for fulfilling your requests?"

"Thank you, sir, for letting me do the yard work and read."

"Do you really hate it here, Whumpee?"

"I...no. I don't, sir."

"Less hesitation next time, alright?"

"..."

"Whumpee?"

"Okay, sir."

"Good. After I buy and set up your collar, let's take a look at the yard."

[loreleismusings99]

Two-Body Problem

Mark Watney x reader

Grad School AU, (academic) rivals to ??????

No use of y/n

[Masterlist]

Not Beta-read, we die like Spirit and Opportunity.

CW: networking, Inaccurate depictions of organic chemistry, probably riddled with typos, but that's all I can think of. Please please please let me know if I missed anything and I'll add it to the top of the list

The reader and Mark are both PhD candidates at Northwestern and both happen to be GTAs for an o-chem/bio-chemistry class. They schedule and meet up on neutral ground(a library) to get some grading done together and some unexpected feelings creep in.

AN: This is the first fanfic I've ever written; critique is always welcome and encouraged, but, uh, perhaps manage your expectations? Idk 😅 I'm not the best when it comes to creative writing, but there's a criminally low amount of fic for The Martian and even fewer fic centered around Mark imo. I might continue this into something more, if there's demand and if I've the energy and motivation 🤷🏾

Alright, I'll stop trying to lamp-shade; Enjoy, and thanks for taking the time out of your day to read this 💚💚💚

●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●

Wanna meet up to put a dent in the pile of grading I know you also have? 

The two of you exchanged numbers at the beginning of fall quarter out of politeness, but it was still surprising to see the notification from Mark’s text. 

Leaning back in your chair, you considered your options, the soft sensor schematic in front of you now fully abandoned after an hour of rearranging thermocouples and resistors trying to alleviate a stubborn inductive noise problem.

Mark had been a thorn in your proverbial side since the day you met him; well, night, to be exact—your blood begins to boil at the memory. You were engaged in cordial and calculated banter with a researcher working in a lab you were gunning for before being interrupted by someone exclaiming “Dr. Hernandez!” to your left. You blinked and the fragile connection you just began to form had crumbled as the attention of the faculty member in question whirled to the side and greeted a stocky and stubbly man who Dr. Hernandez introduced to you as “Mark Watney, one of my PhD students!” This confused you since his name tag clearly said, Plant Bio and Conservation and this was a mixer in the electrical and computer engineering department; “I’m working with him and a faculty member in my own department on developing novel ways of monitoring soil properties in areas in Illinois hardest hit by industrial runoff” Mark says with a smile that oozes levels of confidence and hubris only considerable privilege can spawn. He gives you a quick glance before saying, “which actually reminds me-” and steering Dr. Hernandez away from you. Now, this certainly stung, but it wasn’t anything that you couldn’t get over. No, what made this a problem was Mark’s uncanny ability to draw the room’s attention to him and his work, making it a just a tad difficult to properly network without having to entertain talk and conversation surrounding the department’s charismatic new wunderkind apparent. This combined with quite publicly challenging a design of yours for a class you two shared had firmly placed Mark in your list of worst enemies. Which, admittedly, might be a bit dramatic, but after some quippy and well worded critiques and suggestions to optimize a C++ script he’d written for the same class it seemed you’d made your way onto his hit list too, if department gossip had any veracity to it—so at least the feeling was mutual.

Which brings you back to your confusion at this new development in your communication with him; Mark hadn’t exactly jumped for joy when, in some sick reversal of the infamous two-body problem, the two of you got hired as TAs for the same introductory o-chem class. You exchanged numbers, but neither reached out to the other to host joint office hours, or to work together to get through the ever-growing pile of completed homework assignments that you two need to finish grading—in fact, this is the first time either of you texted the other since the first text you sent confirming your number as yours. Staring at your phone’s screen you weighed the pros and cons of saying yes; on the one hand, it’ll help the two of you get ahead on the imposing pile of work that had accumulated just in the first 2 and a half weeks of the quarter. On the other hand, it meant that you’d have to breathe the same air as your infuriatingly handsome nemesis for longer than you were required to. Not that he was your type. Absolutely not. He just… had an objectively strong jawline…. Choosing not to think too hard about that and reasoning that getting grading done was more important than your pride, you typed out a curt sure. See you at Galter in an hour? And waited for his equally as curt sounds good before getting up to go change out of your comfy, at-home garb and head out the door with your half of the grading pile and your laptop tucked away into your backpack.

You’re chewing the last bite of a pop tart you got, realizing you unfortunately forgot to eat dinner before leaving, and scrolling through Instagram when Mark walks through the glass doors leading into the Galter Health Sciences Library. Under a mild windbreaker, he’s wearing what’s presumably a band t-shirt but with a worn-out and unrecognizable logo tucked into his cuffed light wash jeans. He"s carrying a clearly well-loved canvas satchel with a Cubs patch sewn onto the front. His hair was artfully tousled as he ran a hand through it while he looked for you in the spattering of students who occupied the library at minutes to 9 on a Friday evening. When his eyes finally land on you, he looks taken aback, the carefree look wiped off his face for a moment before he smirks at you through an obviously clenched jaw. “Glad you didn’t decide to stand me up. You reserve a conference room?” You returned his tension-filled smirk with a smile resembling a sneer and responded, “Of course. We’re on the second floor.” You stood up from your seat and started walking in the direction of the staircase, looking behind you to make sure he was following you only to find him in the middle of a light jog to position himself on your right side.

“So, how’s the dissertation writing going?” he asks over his shoulder. Scoffing, you respond with an incredulous “How’s yours?”, hoping he pics up on your clear annoyance at being asked that dreaded question yet again. Wincing at your retort of a question, he concedes with a “Fair enough” And the two of you are plunged back into the awkward silence that permeates the sparsely populated library.

after finally finding the room you reserved(the library is like a maze, capable of ensnaring even the most seasoned of academics), you shuffle into the study room together and set up your computers and piles of homework to be graded before settling into a serene flow with Mark working quietly beside you.

after about thirty minutes, you look over to Mark’s pile and notice that his “complete” pile is, unfortunately, larger than yours, which ignites a spark of competition in you. You start to try to work through your pile faster and Mark seems to pick up on your haste.“Worried about falling behind?” he scoffs with a shit-eating grin, clasping his hands together in front of his mouth. “Oh, not in the slightest; just trying to optimize my time, I've more work to get back to, you know.” you say, smirking back at him but with a glint in your eye, tacitly challenging him to try to get through his pile before you get through yours.

The two of you actually make some substantial progress in both of your piles before you encounter one of the more difficult homework assignments your students have been assigned. You’re stumped by the multi-part problem at the top of the page, trying unsuccessfully to follow the student’s work in front of you.

“... You on homework 15 yet?”

“Yep.” you nod.

“... You have any idea what Dr. C is asking them to do?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Alright, just checking.”

Mark sits back in his chair with a thud and runs a hand down his face. you stand from your seat and move to the small whiteboard on the wall opposite where you were sitting and start to list out the knowns and unknowns in the problem statement. You can feel Mark’s eyes on you the entire time, following along with your work and your movements as you draw out the reaction being described in the first part of the problem. You get stumped at the end of the problem, trying to piece together the end products of the reaction. You hear Mark shift behind you before turning around to see him walking toward the whiteboard to silently walk himself through your work, nodding at each step you took. He picks up a marker and starts adding onto where you were stumped and you watch intently, absorbing what he’s writing. As he finishes the problem, you get the chance to actually get a look at him while he’s working; he furrows his eyebrows and you notice a small crease he gets between his eyebrows as they cinch together, and the faint spattering of freckles across his nose becomes apparent with how close he is to you now. God, he is so close-"that should be it? I think?" He looks to you with an indiscernible look in his eye; first, a hint of shock as his eyes widen--looks like he noticed how close you are too-- then something else you can't quite identify. It takes more effort than your willing to admit, but you eventually tear your eyes away from his and look at his work on the board. It all makes sense, you also note how messily he draws his diagrams of the assortment of carboxyl groups created by the process at the center of the problem(and it also takes everything within you not to smile at that, thinking to yourself, when did this start feeling nice???). "It, uh, it looks all good to me. And the rest should follow from this too." you utter awkwardly and turn to face him again. "Yeah?" His state of mind is still elusive to you, and he responds with an almost dazed sounding "Yeah."

The moment doesn't last for long though, as a soft knock sounds at the door, startling you both out of your joint reverie. "Hey, you guys are the TAs for o-chem this quarter, right? Do you have time to talk about the homework due tomorrow?" The two of you exchange a glance and invite the exhausted looking undergrad into the alcove.

After helping your wayward student, the two of you start packing up your now completed piles of grading in silence, the awkward air from the beginning of the night settling back in now that the distraction from grading was gone. The two of you are about to part ways at the entrance of the library when Mark stops you with a "hey," and says,"uh, so, I know we have this…whatever this is? Between us" He gestures chaotically back and forth in the space between you, and you raise an eyebrow at him. "But this is the most work I've gotten done in one sitting in a while. Would you, uh, like to do this again? Maybe? But at more reasonable hour?" Mark takes a defensive steps back, and this throws you off for a multitude of reasons. One, Mark is acting nervous, which is something you've had the pleasure of witnessing mabe once in your time being around him. Two, he seems to be genuinely asking spend more time with you. And, to be honest, after the silence between the two of you was broken, that was also the most productive you've been in a while. And it probably wouldn't hurt to actually collaborate with him instead of trying to compete with him. Just as you began to fear you were taking too long to respond, Mark pulls his hands out of his pockets and puts them up in the universal "I'm harmless" pose, "you don't have to, I just thought I'd ask-" "sure." You cut him off before he can try to answer his question for you. He looks at you with what can only be described as gleeful shimmer in his eyes and smirked again; this time, though, it didn't have his usual venom behind it. "Yeah?" He asks hopefully. "Yeah." You smile in return, it reaching your eyes this time.

[ceexb]

Errand runs with Hobie head canons

Summary:random head cannons of how I think it would be to run errands with hobie.

Pairing:Hobie x black girl friend

Words:740

Disclaimer:this is my personal view on how I think he would act. Also never claimed to be a writer

For songs sometimes i just put wtv song matches the story vibe.

-As the significant other of Hobie, whether it be as his girlfriend, wife, or best friend (since he's not one for labels, you take all three roles), but today you become his passenger princess during errands.

-I could see Hobie driving a van instead of a car,and I feel like the van would look so cool. something spray painted or what not.

-with tinted windows to hide from the pigs,12,or the ops (depending on what you guys call the cops.)And for when you guys wanna get nasty in the back.

-the back would maybe have like

A comfy setup of blankets and pillows.

-You don't even need to drive or do anything, to be honest. Your only task is to sit there, and look pretty. You have the privilege of adjusting the air conditioning or changing the radio station to any song you desire and readjusting your seat.

-I can just picture you and Hobie making stops at gas stations for snacks. You would keep an eye out while he discreetly takes some snacks and slips them into his pocket. You would engage in conversations with customers at the front as a distraction and politely hold doors open for people.

-The first time you both attempted this, you were frightened of getting caught, so he had to reassure you.

"Hobs, wait. I'm scared. What if we get caught? What if I mess up?"

"You won't, I promise," he replied, placing both his arms on your shoulders and looking down at you through his mask.

"Just do what you do best ...”

“Oh yeah ? and what is that” you curiously asked

“chat."

"Excuse me, sir... How's your day going? Isn't it a beautiful day?"

-Your voice trembles with nervousness, beads of sweat forming as you nervously adjust your collar.

-You engage in conversations with the employees at the front, discussing the weather or bringing up random topics to create a delay.

-Once Hobie has gathered all the drinks and snacks, he walks up to you near the door, tilting his head and signaling for both of you to leave.

-Before the employee even realizes what just happened, you two are already driving off, snacks piled up in the backseat.

-I imagine he would surprise you with a cute stuffed animal he found on one of the shelves and two large frosty drinks.

-You sit in the passenger seat, sipping your drink while he occasionally glances over at you, his attention mostly focused on the road. He smiles, and you feel happy and content, your tongue turning blue from slurping your drink.

"Blue raspberry and cherry, quite a crazy mix,innit ?"

"Just don't drink too fast, or your brain will..."

-Too late.you’re already gripping your throbbing head in pain from the cold shock of the ice slurpy.

-He’ll just be laughing out his damm draws cause he thinks it's the most funniest thing.

-One of the initial stops you two would make is at the car wash because Hobie's van is in desperate need of a wash and is practically begging for it.

-Hobie is a very clean person, and his van is usually in good condition, but he has been occupied with other things in the past few days.

-Instead of opting for the drive-through car washes, you both prefer to go to the self-service car wash because he believes the drive-through ones are a bit of a scam.

-He would lean against his van, watching you in your cute shorts and top outfit as you adjust and switch the settings on the hose.

"Shouldn't you be scrubbing?" You ask.

"I'd rather just watch you," he replies mischievously.

-Suddenly, an idea pops into your head—to playfully spray him with the hose.

-In an instant, he becomes soaked, water dripping from his wicks, and his shirt becoming soaked, with water falling from his face.

"Oh, so you want to be cheeky, huh?" he responds.

"No, Hobie, I was just playing," you say, knowing he's enjoys playing rough.

-Little did you know what you were getting yourself into.

-Before you know it, he retaliates by spraying the hose at you, water splashing everywhere, even making its way into your nose.

-From that point on, it becomes a playful water fight between the two of you, acting like big kids on a hot summer day.

-soaking and playing with the water not fully conscious of how much money it’ll be and the fact the vans bearly getting cleaned.

[cosmica-galaxy]

Idk what it is about me and giving the young player existential crises but i've got some more thoughts about that.

The air must suck absolut ass there, the player can't have a panic attack in peace without the air assaulting their lungs, or the lack of it. The lack of plants would also be a problem, since, you know, studies have shown that people tend to go insane without them. And lets not forget the plethora of new bacteria and diseases the players body would have to get used to. Uncontrollable outbursts leading to the young god tearing into themselves with their nails and ripping open wounds that would grant the bacteria a place to settle among tender flesh and blood.

Now imagine this from an outsider's perspective, your boss and self proclaimed god with the ego the size of Nevada's ever growing body count has given his spotlight to somebody else except him for once. Putting them on the four fronts of his people's devotion. And for the few moments of seeing them makes it clear of what a shell they've become compared to what your boss described them as. Their stature give oway their tired state, like the dark circles around their eyes weren't obvious enough. Matted hair vivid in coolers hangs loseley from their head. If this was the so-called god then you could only imagine how they were before arriving here, and that image was a much prettier picture.

Now, i'm gonna be fair, Phobos isn't dumb, he's an egomaniac sure but he didn't rule as long as he did without a reason. Everytime he tries to help the player when they are in their most harrowing state they lash out, or worse, flinch. Phobose hates the idea that he might be causing them harm, and to further add injury on the wound the only ones that seem to get the privilege of being in their presence are his two top scientists. One of which he already held disdain for doubles as a result. But he can restrain himself, for his god. If those two can postpone the steady decline of the young gods' health then he can proceed with figuring out a way to get them back home. For his gods sake.

But, what if they can't go back, what if (for whatever reason) they just can't go home, all of that work, all of that effort, for nothing. Their whole body feels heavy, it drags them down till they are a pile of imobile limbs. Now the tears start to fall as their silent cry soon turns into sobs of despair. They scream, claw and thrash at what they can get their nails on, clothes, floor, skin. It isn't till they start bleeding that someone tries to help them, a mistake. In reaction to being held, the young god latches onto the person's hand with their teeth, hard.

Hofnarr and Jebus (who were there at the request of the player) view the failure of the machine as not only an incompetence with the Auditor but the agency as a whole, if they can't help the player then who can. and duse they go back to being the players rock, emotionally, physically and psychologically, because there seems to be no one better than them. Though that begs the question, is the Auditor's inability to help because of their lack of power, or because the employee doesn't have something the player has? Was it the players absence of the project that led to it falling, and what would happen if they were… Perhaps they can't go home but that doesn't mean they can't go to other games…

Listen, I'm just saying, I think Minecraft would make for some great therapy, especially with a shaders pack installed.

Yeah, I think Nevada would be very hard on a young player and such...or just humans in general. Since we aren't made to survive such harsh environments! That would be such a challenge for all of the madcom bois to try and combat. It's easy to fight something physically, but fighting something mentally or emotionally is a totally different story!

[kwlsn]

After spending some time at your place, Hina finally went back to her place before her curfew while Emma sat down on your bed with your plushies, watching you working on your last task from cram school.

There was a pile of work on your left that Hina brought after she informed the teacher about your condition, stating that the teacher shouldn't be allowed to be this strict towards a barely recovered patient as she gave them to you.

"The winter wasn't as hard as before, I think it'll be okay for us if we go to the beach this week."

Emma hummed, kicking her legs in the air while looking at you for some approval — knowing Toman would only listen to Mikey, who only listened to you like a siscon maniac.

Though, she believed that you never realised it since three of them were infatuated on taking care of you — a pure girl, oblivious to every kind of harm in this world thanks to both of your elder brothers.

Whenever Emma felt jealous when Mikey or Shin paid more attention to you, she would always remember how hard it would be for you to be in this situation — remembering how disheveled you were when they brought you to the hospital, no sign of life in your eyes.

"I love you, y'know that?"

"I love you, too, Emma."

You looked at her with a small smile, knowing how hard it was for her to speak her feelings out and appreciate this chance she took to tell you about her real feeling.

Sitting on your bed, you took Emma's hand in yours and gave it a light squeeze of reassurance, feeling that this whole situation was probably due to what happened during the festival.

You knew she had a soft heart — which was both her weakness and strength. She was the only one you could rely on whenever you needed a bit of moral support or shoulder to cry on, a sister who would never leave you alone during your darkest hour.

Slacking off in the lounge with ¾ of your lower body underneath warm kotatsu was for sure a privilege you would never be able to let go — especially during winter.

Grampa was making a grilled mochi and put two tangerines beside it on top of his small hibachi, enjoying a comedy sitcom with you that had been gaining some popularity lately.

"Brat."

"Yes, Gramps?"

Instead of his usual strict tone, Grampa called you in a tone that reminded you of a mother trying to soothe her crying baby — as if, there was something he hid away from you.

He took one of the tangerine and peeled it carefully with his calloused fingers, putting the peel inside his favourite tea as you ate the sweet orange in delight, carefully reading the fine lines between his brows and dark spots on his hands.

Instead of continuing his sentence, Grampa was silent for the next thirty minutes and opened his mouth after the show ended, turning off the TV then scooted closer to you.

"I'm sorry,"

"I failed to be a grandpa, I failed to protect you from all those bad people..."

He wrapped his arms around your shoulder tightly and even if he didn't show it, you knew he was worried this whole time and had a lot of things to take care of at the same time (especially after what happened to you) took a toll on his slowly fragile body.

Grampa kept getting old and staying in Shibuya was nothing but facing a life full of danger — it wasn't worth it, you know it yourself.

After a small talk and a bit of reassurance, Grampa thought it would be the best if you live away from here — of course, they would come once in a while to visit (which would happen a lot, he reckoned).

He had asked Shin beforehand to find you an apartment nearby your school, hoping these would be a perfect place for a new start for you once you entered the school year again.

After checking out a couple of promising candidates, you landed your choice on a newly built apartment complex that required you to walk only for twenty minutes to school.

"Apparently there's a market, too, nearby this complex and the station didn't take more than thirty minutes by walk."

You hummed in thought, looking at him after stating the reasons for why you chose this place and hoping he wouldn't be angry at it as a smile crept up to his lips.

He called for Shin right away, asking for him to help you pack up your belongings as your winter break would end soon in a few weeks, giving your shoulder a light squeeze.

"Brat, make sure to tell me if you don't feel uncomfortable there or wanna go back here, okay?"

You answered him with a small grin as Shin showed up at the front door — left hand holding a couple of empty boxes for you and right hand holding on a sellotape.

Even though Shin could get pretty annoying for you once in a while, you started to think about things you wouldn't be able to do with him anymore.

There'd be no more Shin taking you watching him working at S.S Motors or buying fresh peaches in the summertime — asking for an apology with a box of your favourite meal for breaking your favourite eyeshadow or sneaking out from house when it was 2 AM with Manjiro.

It would be a core memory that you would never forget — the big brother who was both caring and annoying, ready to burn the world for you.

"Shin..."

"Yes, kid?"

"How's life with the Black Dragon — are you still with them?"

Shin raised his head to see your eyes, there was a hint of both curiosity and doubt — he didn't know what made him unsure about you but he almost knew right away that it was a test ; to see if he was lying or not to you.

He couldn't tell you that he was still in the gang — actually, scratch that, he couldn't tell you he was still the head of Black Dragon. He already made a promise to you and started a better life, one with less fight and contributed a lot to the society.

"Heh, y'know, Waka and Benkei would drop by once in a while at the shop — telling me about how kids around wanna actually learn about one thing or two from them, making sure they'd make no mistakes or things that don't align with what we believe. Well, 'used to' for me."

He let out a small chuckle, making a smooth exit and succeeding in getting you off his back as he helped you fold your clothes carefully, fearing that he'd ruin the white lace on your favourite shirt or cute DIY chain you made with Emma as an accessory for your skirt or short.

The sky started to turn into a warm shade of blood orange while the last box was finally done before he moved it away, stacking it on top of another box and writing 'misc' on it.

"Kid, we're done here now. I'll have the truck take em over tomorrow."

He took out his phone, sending a quick message to Waka as you lay down on your bed, feeling exhausted with the excessive amount of your belongings.

Shin, who didn't like it whenever the table was incomplete, encouraged you to stay away while the dinner would be done in fifteen — though, he was pretty unsure, too, since Emma would be home late today.

"I'll cook tonight, how about that?"

"Uh, no, I still wanna be alive..."

"This brat!"

The dinner was finally cooked by Shin — much to your dismay.

He cooked around five packages of noodles, a bunch of chopped veggies and tomato before he added a mixture of egg a few minutes before he turned off the stove.

"Shin, is this edible?"

"Kid, do you not trust me?"

You looked at him with a pair of puppy eyes, trying to beg for him not to give you that and instead make a quick run to the store to buy your favourite lunchbox — alas, your look got mistranslated by the older guy as he gave you extra veggies and topping your bowl up with two onsen eggs and tempura.

"I thought you loved me, Shin."

"I gave you two onsen eggs."

"Meat?"

"Those are beef tempura."

You poked it with your chopsticks a few times before taking a bite, hoping the taste wouldn't ruin your taste buds as Shin looked like someone who could actually do that as a form of his favourite torture method.

After a while, you started to taste a savoury grease taste coating inside your mouth when the crunch melted on your tongue — a combination you never expected before that could be achieved by Sano Shinichiro.

At the other end of the table, Shinichiro watched you eat his cooking with a faint smile; feeling his efforts on joining cooking class for housewives these past few weeks were finally paid off the time your doubt turned into a smile.

Thanking Shin for his cooking, you began to collect the dirty dishes and told him and Grampa to go sleep as you would wait for Emma and Mikey until they returned from who knows.

After drying out your hands, you walked to the lounge and slid the door open partially; letting the cold crisp air enter as it hit your face, enough to keep you up before a slow, heavy step caught you off guard.

"Shin!"

You looked up as he offered you a small smile before draping a thick blanket over your shoulders and sitting inside the kotatsu with you; a box of his favourite cigarette and lighter from Waka were splattered over the table.

As if it had been expected to be like this, he took a puff before holding it over your face when he caught you staring at him smoking; looking like a deer caught in headlights as he placed your hand on your tight.

"Wanna try?"

"But, I don't, y'know."

You stuttered, earning a chuckle from him before he took the blanket off you and rested his cigs away, placing you on his lap before wrapping the two of you with the blanket back.

"It'll be easier like this."

He hooked his left arm around your waist to keep you close as he took his cigs back for you, not wasting any second before he told you how you were supposed to inhale it and then exhale it slowly while making sure the smoke wouldn't linger inside you too long or you'd cough.

Unfortunately, you weren't gifted in understanding him so the time he put it between your lips; you ended up coughing.

"As I thought, a baby isn't supposed to smoke."

He gave you a cheeky grin when you hit his chest for making fun of you as he looked at you with a half-lidded gaze; finding your lips started to look a bit too enticing for him.

The way you sat on his lap, getting all cosy and snuggly when the winter wind started to get too much for you; cheeks and nose getting red and cold as your hands covered them, hoping it would actually do something to them.

As the door was within his reach, Shin closed it almost right away and brushed your hair away, making sure you felt warmer now when he raised the temperature inside the kotatsu.

"I love you so much, Shin. Thank you for keeping me company here."

You looked at him with a small giggle, hiding it away as you knew Shin would follow you and exaggerate the laugh; only for him to actually return the smile, one that rarely he wore.

The room kept getting warmer despite the cold winter air and dark lounge, solely depending on the heater for some light as Shin cupped your cheek; drawing random shapes on it with his thumb as he got closer.

"I love you, too, kid."

As a rush of adrenaline began to pump up in your system, you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him closer; deepening the kiss as both of you had taken the forbidden route, one both of you couldn't turn back from anymore.

The start of this misery was finally started when a certain faux blond saw his beloved siblings were kissing each other; a pair of star-crossed lovers who had broken the shackles and now cursed by the star to live in nothing but ill-fated throughout the time and space.

[unbidden-yidden]

Okay so I feel like I may be swinging a bat at a hornets nest here, but please hear me out. I'm asking this genuinely and hoping for an actual discussion on this.

This is an excellent and insightful thread that I'd ask you to read in full first because I am writing this after reading it; however, this is definitely part of a larger conversation on tumblr so it's not a direct response to just this post. Also that thread is so long already and OP seems pretty done with it, so I don't want to blow it up (again.)

---

At what point does someone stop being culturally Xtian? Is there a threshold past which someone has actually done enough unpacking of Xtian ideas and assumptions to ever escape it? Do you have to literally join another culture to overwrite Xtian culture? Does that, by itself, actually even fix it?

I guess what I'm struggling with here is this: are we talking about a behavior that people engage in, and can therefore escape by not doing that behavior or thinking in that way anymore? Or are we talking about a set of privileges that one cannot ever truly leave behind?

If it's the former, then I think it would be more appropriate, more accurate, and more respectful (especially to survivors of Xtian religious abuse) to describe the behavior rather than the person. Because at the end of the day, this person, no matter how obnoxious - and trust me when I say I've been on the receiving end of this obnoxiousness and sometimes outright antisemitism plenty - isn't a Xtian* and isn't necessarily defined by this behavior. It's one thing if they define themselves by a bigoted behavior - a self-identified t//erf is a transphobe by their own definition, for example - but people whose identity is otherwise neutral are not, as a person, a/an [x] based on this particular example of their behavior. So if this is the case, perhaps saying "[x] thing you said comes from [y] culturally Xtian idea that is antisemitic," (for example) would be more productive and lead to a better conversation than simply saying "you're culturally Xtian and need to stop speaking over us on [x] issue."

This is also important because anyone can make culturally Xtian assumptions, even if they've never once been Xtian in their lives. Do you know how many Jewish-from-birth folks I've had to help unpack culturally Xtian ideas and internalized antisemitism that they were putting out into Jewish spaces? Especially (but far from only) assimilated Jews? It's not only a non-zero amount, but it comes up frequently. Because I've spent the last several years unpacking my own cultural Xtianity and intentionally assimilating into Jewish culture, thought, and religious ideas, I am hypersensitive to the intrusion of Xtian normative ideas and am able to explain the difference from personal experience in these conversations.

On the other hand, though, that brings me to possibility #2, which is that this is a privilege that is being described. If we're talking about the set of circumstances that one grew up with and the cultural assumptions one has baked into their emerging personality from birth, then I'm still, as a person who is now Jewish, more culturally Xtian than someone who was raised an atheist by atheists. My hard work over the last several years does not change where I came from, no matter how much I sometimes wish I could overwrite my past. I not only grew up as part of the privileged religious majority (and since I am white and was part of a mainline protestant denomination, I really was at the top of that pile) I still, to this day, know Xtian texts and religious practice and assumptions from the inside and can therefore speak to people who are coming from that place in a way that others without that privilege typically cannot.

That is still true, years after I finished converting, never mind started the process of de-Xtianizing my culture and worldview. Yet, I've never been accused of being culturally Xtian in discourse on here, and I feel like anyone who would do more than say, "hey - [x] particular thing you said seems to be coming from [y] Xtian assumption about the world. Can you clarify what you mean and/or maybe this is something you need to address?" is likely to get yelled at for how they are othering me as a ger. Even if what they're saying is true! Because it would be disrespectful to point it out by just flatly telling me I'm coming from a culturally Xtian place and need to put a lid on it.

So I guess I'll end by posing some questions for discussion. I am genuinely interested in people's different responses to this.

Is it possible for someone who has left Xtianity to no longer be considered culturally Xtian?

If so, what would it take for someone to reach that?

If not, why not?

Does the answer change if the person is an atheist/areligious/non-religious full stop, versus someone who has replaced it with another religion?

Does it matter what that new religion is? Must it have longstanding culture behind it, such as Judaism or Hinduism, or can it be a new and/or eclectic religion, such as many neo-pagan religions, Satanism, new age religions, etc.

What do our answers to these questions say about how we view and treat atheists, followers of new religions, and gerim?

Part of my concern with how we talk about this besides just the interfaith piece, is that it also gives Xtianity a whole lot more space and power to control the conversation about religion and interfaith discourse than it necessarily needs to, as well as sometimes starting a weird purity rabbit hole to try and get away from the "taint" of Xtian ideas. I'm just not sure we want to cede that much control, but obviously at the same time we need to be able to name Xtian privilege and the thoughts, behaviors, assumptions, and discourse that flow from it, so I'm not sure what the right balance here is.

(*For purposes of this thread I'm only talking about people who are not religiously Xtian, even though obviously Xtians engage in this behavior plenty and are the privileged religious group in the US.)

[allamericansbitch]

Everything I've learned about Matty Healy has been deeply gross to me. I've liked Taylor Swift on and off throughout the years. And always liked her art. I don't call myself a Swifty because I don't agree with or defend all of her behavior. But I do follow her and know a lot about her and the fandom. So I feel like when I'm being critical of her, it's from an informed place, yk? But I see all these creators on Tik Tok, who aren't even fans, responding to this just for the content, and either saying things about her that aren't true, or responding with plain misogyny. So while I am just as troubled by her association with him and disappointed in her lack of vocal support for abortion rights and trans rights, I'm also concerned about people not being critical about the WAYS they are choosing to criticize her. Yes, she is very privileged. She and her family before her have benefited from capitalism and she makes being "a good business woman" part of her identity. She's benefited from this system. She surrounds herself with POC and queer performers on tour but then makes then share a stage with a bigot. She speaks out for social justice the loudest when she's effected by it, when the size of the platform she's worked to achieve and the values she's monetized in Miss Americana give her a responsibility to do more than that. (Tho I have my own opinions about celebrities not being the best demographic to be activists). All of this and more is worth approaching with critical thinking. But when people who only know surface level stuff about this and about her throw out misogynistic dog whistles like "she's Never been discriminated against" (she's been SA'd in her work place. That's definitely discrimination). Or she's "playing the victim" (a woman can make mistakes without being a calculated manipulator). Ultimately, while the situation is very different to 2016, I just don't want to see the same misogynistic dog pile we did back then. Where everybody that was already against her because they aren't comfortable with women being sucessful or talented jumps on top of valid criticism and dilutes it with bad faith vitriol. Ultimately I do want to see her showing the overt support at her concerts for the LGBTQIA community with her words as well as continued actions. Artists like Lizzo, Harry Styles, Panic! (back when they were touring), and so many others are speaking at their shows specifically about anti trans and anti abortion legislation and waving our flags. When people say it's a safety thing, I don't believe them because these other artists are doing it. Even if that's the intention, the effect is that space is being held at her shows for homophobes to buy a ticket and feel comfortable there. Again, I don't think celebrities make good activists. But I also think inadvertently catering to homophobia and racism goes against her stated values and I'd like her to address that. And for god's sake stop bringing Matty Healy on stage.

Asking anon jic somome wants to send me a death threat for not having the "right" thoughts about this.

yes! this is very well said and i agree. sadly there's always gonna be people who are just flat out sexist and will see the valid criticism she's getting and decide to join in their not-so valid narrative riddled with sexism and misogyny. the water always gets a little murky with these things.

this situation is 1000% different from the 2016 situation because that was powered by misogyny and the act of using her as a scapegoat for people's anger during the election, it wasn't really about her as a person but more of what she represented to people- which was a rich white person taking advantage of their privilege and not speaking on anything or using their platform for good. And I think the label they gave her as ‘always playing the victim’ was very aggressive for the time because while she had her moments, generally she wasn’t doing that and like you mentioned was a victim of many things.

However now I feel like we are very much inching too close to that and it’s making me nervous due to the amount of people who took that stance back then in 2016 and being like ‘I told you so! She’s playing the victim again’ because tbh I can totally see it being spun that way.

And to the great point you made about how bad people can feel safe at her shows, I’ve seen a few people point that out as well. I saw a video of someone who went to a show, saw people singing yntcd and then saying homophobic things in the parking lot after the show. I also understand the idea of her not speaking out as a safety thing… but her not speaking out makes others also not feel safe at her shows. Their safety is also important and, by Taylor not speaking out, she’s providing a space for them to feel threatened.

[spectralsleuth]

HELLO - love LSoW! I'm curious as to if the boys being dumb rich celebrity kids will play into their schooling experience?

Mikey offering to buy his friends' snacks at lunch period like that meme where the lady says "it's one banana, how much could it cost? 10 dollars?"

I think Mikey would be more likely to be the kid who brings in food for everybody than buy lunches- which is its own kind of privilege itself!

It probably starts out with him bringing Japanese lunches to school(nothing fancy bc Yoshi can't cook anything fancy) and some kids maybe trying to tease him? The way that kids do about other kids lunches. But instead of letting it bother him he decided to start bringing in enough for everybody, and it stops the teasing real quick.

Yoshi, helping Mikey make enough onigiri for his class: And you didn't just fight them why? You know I'm fine with you boys fighting in school-

Mikey: This is better. :)

Mikey's that kid at school that has a lot of friends very effortlessly, and being mean to him just makes you feel like an asshole. Otherwise they have a pretty weird school experience; Leo filming movies, Donnie and his... projects. A lot of stuff I'll cover, but normal celebrity troubles. I think people underestimate how normal celebrity students become among a student body. When you see someone in class every day, often multiple years in a row, it becomes really easy to see them as normal and every day.

On the subject of money;

Yoshi is very very wealthy, and only getting wealthier since he is also working full time at the dojos on top of filming new movies. But outside of certain accommodations for the boys (soaking pool, full sized townhouse, LAWYER FEES, expensive lamps, etc) I think he probably lives relatively simple. He's probably lost a lot of his taste for fame and fortune, after the Nexus. he's the kind of rich person who would pay for your hospital bills without a thought, but he simply wouldn't think to do it, or see it where it's needed. Social warrior he is not. He is just a rich old(ish) man with little turtle kids.

Xander is his personal assistant on top of nanny, so the boys all pick up being cheap and thrifty from him. Even when Xander has the credit card, if he goes shopping for the Hamatos he brings coupons, supermarket flyers, etc. They'll go to three separate stores to get the best deals. I think Leo would love this the best; he gets very good at math as a kid, sitting in the grocery cart with a calculator and seeing how much they save while Xander piles in groceries around him.

AGAIN sorry this took so long to answer I got shy!! :') I hope this isn't too long either. But these asks are so good and are making me think.

[ashxketchum]

Sharing a TyHil snippet (that was originally supposed to be a collection of Mayblade 2023 prompts) for fun! This particular piece is far from over, I have at least three more scenes plotted out for this, but at the same time I think the current part is also very read-worthy so I'm just dropping it here until it's finished!

It's a sequel to a Rich GirlxPoor Boy AU oneshot I wrote earlier. So the premise you need to know is that Hilary is from a super duper rich family but she doesn't fit into her social circle very well. Tyson's mother runs a catering business and he often helps her out when she's understaffed, which is how the two end up meeting at a New Year's party. This snippet is based roughly 3 months after their first encounter.

Happy Reading!

[post divider by @/cafekitsune]

A typical birthday party in his circles involved a lot of dancing and eating, but here the guests were seated around tables in groups, reminding him more of a wedding reception. He figured the birthday girl was the one sitting at the table placed right at the centre, surrounded by a flock of other girls, presumably her friends. Of course, the girl in the centre was dressed the most glamorously out of everyone present, covered almost entirely in sequins. Even with all the shiny makeup on, she didn’t look younger than twenty to him and it put the whole changing the menu last minute thing into perspective, as Tyson was expecting it to be a little kid’s tantrum. No wonder Mariam’s mood had been soured. Quickly digging through the bowl of smooth gelato in his hands, he ran a bored eye across the rest of the hall, he’d expected to see more things he could make a mockery out of, but as far as rich people parties were concerned, this one was very conventional.

His brows furrowed when he watched the birthday girl receive a present from a newcomer, which she immediately handed over to a maid who was standing behind her to add onto the gift pile. The table that the gifts were arranged on was barely a few steps away from the girl and yet she couldn’t bother to get up and keep it herself. Privilege sure made people lazy, Tyson thought to himself, having licked the bowl clean from the gelato, he decided he’d had enough of watching the snoozefest. He’d make sure that his mother gave him written proof that she would pay him back for all the manual labour he did today and then head back to his dorm, maybe even think about preparing for an important match next week.

Just as he was about to turn his back to the view of the party, the maid behind the birthday girl moved yet again, this time farther than one table down, and a very familiar face came into view.

One that he’d been hoping to run into for a while now.

The bowl from his hand almost slipped as his eyes widened at the sight of the girl, the brunette he’d met while working for his mother on new year’s eve, three months ago.

Once he spotted her, it was hard for him to look away.

Unlike possibly every other girl in the room, she was the only one dressed in a plain top and skirt, which made her look more alluring between all the glitter and sequin that surrounded her. Her wavy brown hair was flowing freely behind her back, just a few strands falling loose in the front and framing her face perfectly. She wore a disinterested look on her face as she sat with one elbow resting on the table and another holding a glass of champagne still full to the brim, not bothering to speak to any of the other guests that were sharing the table with her.

But what made Tyson’s face break into a huge grin was the thick book that lay next to a plate with a half eaten cake slice on the table.

There was no doubt about it, she was the same girl Tyson had so boldly kissed at new year’s eve.

The memory of the kiss was etched into his minds for various reasons, but the one that ate away at him the most was how he should’ve apologised for his impulsive actions right away. That’s what one of his closest friends Rei, who was currently his mother’s number one sous chef, had given him a lecture about as soon as that party ended since he’d witnessed the whole thing go down. Rei had very cleverly pointed out that the girl could’ve raised a complaint against him, or even worse his mother’s company, which would not be good for their reputation in the business.

He’d sat and thought about his friend’s words carefully, and keeping in mind the girl’s shocked reaction, Tyson realised that he had indeed messed up pretty bad. But luckily for him as days and weeks passed without his mother every receiving a complaint from the hosts of the party, he felt relieved. He was still, however, concerned about finding the girl and apologizing to her. That was one of the reasons he found it hard to turn down his mother when she asked him to help with something she was working on this side of the town, a tiny hope igniting in his heart that he may just run into that girl again.

And while at the beginning of his day he had assumed that luck was not on his side, Tyson now understood that perhaps all of this had just been a grand scheme played by the forces of universe to get the two of them to reunite.

Having made up his mind, he quickly scanned the kitchen. His mother and Rei were very busy taste testing the main course and discussing improvements they could pull off before it needed to be served, Mariam was still busy taking into account all the dessert they had on hand and Mao was negotiating with the hotel staff about the broken cutlery. If Tyson was to slip out of the kitchen, now would be the perfect moment.

Positioning himself behind the door as he waited for the exact moment when one server would enter while another exited, Tyson looked over his clothes. Even if he did make it out of the kitchen unnoticed, he’d have trouble not being the odd one out since he wasn’t exactly dressed according to the theme. If Rei knew what he was doing, Tyson would surely get pulled aside and thrown out the back, but this was a risk he knew he needed to take today to not let this chance slip out of his hand. The consequences was something that he could deal with later.

Grabbing the perfect chance as the door opened, Tyson slipped in between the two servers, hiding behind the one heading out with the full tray and stepping into the event. A nervous excitement filled him as he made sure to not let himself get too far away from the guy he was using as a cover, and his mother’s employee did pass him a suspicious look but Tyson shrugged him off with a reassuring grin, motioning in the direction of the table where the girl was seated. The tall guy made an expression which clearly stated that he didn’t get paid enough to care about this as he took Tyson’s advice to move towards her table.

Tyson couldn’t completely avoid making eye-contact with a few guests who frowned at his appearance and whispered amongst themselves, but when the lights in the hall suddenly dimmed and the birthday girl took to the stage with a mic in her hand, he knew that he’d made the right decision by slipping out. The girl requested everyone to stand up for her performance, making it much easier for him to blend in, though he did not appreciate her grating voice blaring out of the speakers all around the room. The guests took their sweet time in getting up from their seats, but the birthday girl wouldn't be demotivated and she kept tapping her foot on the stage, refusing to start till everyone was standing up.

While his attention had been turned to the stage, the space around him became crowded as more and more people stood up and he lost sight of the server he had been following around. Cursing under his breath he widened his eyes as he searched the now dimly lit hall for the brunette, careful about not moving too much till his eyes adjusted to the dark lighting, He was able to spot her plain brown hair after a few minutes of searching and with a relieved yet nervous feeling in his chest, he made his way towards her just as the intro to a pop song begun to play.

The birthday girl began to sing, her loud and a little bit unpleasant voice filled the whole venue, drowning out any other sound that may serve as a relief to the audience’s ears. The only reason this made Tyson glad was because no one could hear the thumping of his heart as he neared the brunette, fists balled at his sides in an attempt to control his excitement. His plan was simple, he would tap on her shoulder, wait for her to recognise him before he apologised and then walk away. If things went well he might end up walking away with her number, if they didn’t she might call security to escort him out of this party he wasn’t invited to, either way Tyson felt he was playing a fair game. So when he arrived at the girl’s table, he just took one deep breath in preparation before he lightly tapped her shoulder, putting on his most confident smile as he watched her turn around in confusion.

To be honest, Tyson had expected her to take some time in recognising him since their encounter had happened almost three months ago. He was sure that she was the kind of girl who went to many such parties, who had a busy social life filled with new faces, who by now might even had made a boyfriend or two and had already forgotten all about the strange bartender who stole a kiss from her at new year’s eve.

But when she turned, startled by his sudden presence behind her, even in the dark her garnet eyes shined bright as they widened taking in his appearance. Her pink lips parted in a silent gasp of surprise and a cautious hand flew to cover her mouth as possibly the memory of their last meeting slipped into her mind. She tried to take a step back but bumped into the chair that she had been sitting in a while ago, deciding then to press herself against it as both hands clasped the chair’s top hilt tightly and her lips pursed together as fixed him with a look of dumbfounded surprise.

As grateful Tyson was for her being able to remember him right away, watching her reaction did make his heart flutter all the way to his throat and he had to swallow a loud gulp to keep himself from doing something stupid. The words for his apology had been on the tip of his tongue for days but now that the moment of truth was here, all his brain could think about was how pretty she looked in person and how his imagination over the last few months hadn’t done her looks any justice.

With the streak of luck he’d endured the whole day, of course in the next moment the birthday girl lost her breath a minute into the song and decided to end her performance abruptly, receiving a modest applause from the audience as the lights in the hall were suddenly switched back on.

A look of panic crossed both of their faces as they realised that now everyone on the brunette’s table and a few more people who sat around them were staring at Tyson with curious eyes, whispering among themselves wondering who he was and how he’d gotten in without following the glitter dress code for the party. Tyson tried to keep a calm expression on his face, he knew that if he got caught now it would hurt his mother’s business irreparably. He had to think of an escape route, if only he had thought about his plan more carefully and borrowed an apron and a tray from one of the servers, he would’ve saved himself the embarrassment of getting caught like this. Despite all of it, he was sure that if he could get just a few more minutes to canvas the area, he would be able to pull himself out of this mess just fine.

The girl, however, had different ideas.

He was almost impressed by how quickly she got over the panic of being seen with him, a complete stranger at this party, by people who were possibly her close friends. Her ruby eyes that had shined bright with surprise just a minute ago, now bore a triumphant sparkle as her lips curved up in a gloating smile. Tyson barely had any time to react as she reached forward and looped her arm with his and stood next to him with her shoulder pressed tightly against his arm.

“I told you guys he was just too busy to show up on time,” she said sweetly as she turned to face all of her friends. The birthday girl had stalked off the stage and joined the gang of onlookers, pushing her way to the front to get a better look at Tyson, since he had managed to steal the attention away from her for a few moments. The snivelling look on the birthday girl’s face didn’t seem to bother the brunette, her grip around Tyson’s arm only tightened as she spoke the next few words with such a vindicative tone that even he was ready to kneel down in front of her.

“I am so glad that I finally get to introduce my boyfriend in person to all of you.”

[myneurodivergentlife]

I couldn't bring myself to vacuum, so I bought the smallest, lightest vaccum that i could. I may still not vacuum as much as I should, but i know it won't hurt me to do it.

I eat a slice of bread when I can't bring myself to cook.

I wipe myself with baby wipes when I can't shower.

I put my hair in a low ponytail when I can't brush it.

If I'm sweaty, but can't shower? Baby powder works wonders.

Can't wash the dishes? I just put them into a neat pile in the sink and it makes me feel good enough that it lasts me until I feel good enough to do them.

House smells? Wax warmers.

Can't remember to feed animals? Automatic dispensers. If your extra fancy, get the electronic ones with times on them.

I fill up a small jug of water that I just leave on the counter. Whenever I see my animals water bowl empty, I just use the jug so that I don't have to bend over and pick up the bowl or water fountain.

I have my dishes either sitting on an open shelf or in a cabinet right by the sink, so that all I have to do is put it there, no reaching up or walking around the kitchen.

Can't sweep the whole house? Don't. Pick one mess, or one room, or one corner of a room and just sweep anything you can reach into a pile. Don't move furniture, don't go underneath tables just whatever you can easily reach. Sweep it into a pile. If you have the energy to pick it up, go for it, if not, that's cool too. The space already feels and looks better. Also, please invest in a broom dustpan with a handle so you don't have to bend down. Also, I sweep sitting down where I can. If I'm sweeping next to my bed, I'm sitting on my bed. If Im sweeping by the couch, then im sitting on the couch.

Hate brushing your teeth? Me too. I sit down and watch YouTube when I brush my teeth. If I don't have something to rise my mouth out with becuase it's dirty or I'm out of disposable cups. Water bottle. I replace my toothbrush often with something new so I want to use the new thing. I use non mint toothpaste made for gum disease. I use the softest charcoal toothbrush I can find. Does it scub the plaque like I really need? No, but it does make it so I'm more likely to use it. I use kids mouthwash. My mouth is too small, so I use children's toothbrushes.

I can't fold my clothes or hang them up, so what do I do? I throw my clothes into bins in cube organizers. I only serperate them by vague categories. No folding, just tossing in. I don't care if I dig around to find the right top, becuase it's all just thrown in there anyway. And I just sit the bins on my bed and watch t.v as I do it.

When I can't get out of bed? I bring something I love to me. I have a rolling cart with all of my paint supplies. do I end up with paint on my bed and couches? yep. Does it make me feel like I accomplished something on days I couldn't get up? Also, yep. I keep books by my bed so I can always read something I love. I keep deordorant and baby powder and my hair brush on my night stand so that I am always near it.

Don't do the things that your supposed to every day? Me either. I try to make it pretty and use things I like. I know it's not an privilege that most people have, but if it is an option I highly recommend it. I got a cute water bottle, so I would drink more water. Got a glass carafe so that I would use mouth wash. Got fancy dish washing equipment so I want to use my new stuff. I got my dog a pretty collar and leash, so I'm more tempted to walk her instead of just letting her out into the yard. I want to make my shower and kitchen so aesthetically pleasing that it makes me want to be in them. I watch pretty aethetic videos of people doing chores to inspire me.

Sorry for the long rant, these are just things that help me that I want to remember and hopefully can help someone else. I'll add more as I remember them.