#the imposter syndrome man. makes me nervous

[jichanxo]

re: senseific, i don't remember if you've talked about it, but i was a little bit surprised that it was sawa who suggested kitakata as an advisor for amasawa. yeah it's been 13 years, and in the game their relationship is not particularly hostile, but i still wait from her the "fuck that guy" attitude towards him xD speaking of (and this, of course it doubtly would be The Theme, but will you talk about their relationship or just mention that stuff happened and they got over it? or not at all?

you all know the drill ↓

Considering the outcome of the Kusumoto situation in sensei au, I don’t think her feelings towards him would be so negative. He mishandled the situation at first, sure, but he realised it was serious, and I think he did everything he could to make things right. Of course, effort alone isn’t enough to make up for all the awful things that already happened because of him, but it must count for something, right? Kitakata was willing to admit he was wrong, presumably apologised, took responsibility, put in the work. I think Sawa sees that. That he’s flawed but ultimately sincere and trying.

Her impression of Kitakata isn’t wholly positive – she’s levelheaded and sees his flaws very clearly, especially now as his colleague (he’s prone to mess and disorganisation, and I see him as being kind of lazy and inconsiderate at times in his day to day). He perhaps doesn’t deserve her respect, and Sawa is definitely the better teacher, but I think her presence helps hold Kitakata to account. She expects quite a bit of him, and Kitakata knows this, wants to be the person that she expects him to be. Kitakata’s wish to change and do better is sincere, but I think he might slip back into old habits if he wasn’t diligent, and Sawa’s presence helps.

She certainly expects Kitakata to at least hear a student out when they go to speak to him, and she’s known him long enough to notice him with a mystery novel or two. Why not ask him to help the mrc? ...well, I dunno. I’m not married to the idea. But that’s the train of thought.

I don’t know how in depth I’ll go with those two, mostly because I’m approaching the Sawa-Kitakata relationship from the angle of Yagami seeing that there’s something going on there, but not knowing exactly what. So for the most part, it’s not going to be something that’s spoken about outright. But their relationship is interesting and I think it speaks especially to Kitakata’s personal motivations and shortcomings in a way that can’t be done any other way.

#jitxt #kitakata sensei #i say this about everything but. damn i gotta write more of them #they're certainly not friends but i think sawa extends trust to kitakata on the things that matter #yeah he's an annoying colleague but if something really matters then he will do what he can to get it done #so their relationship is not so negative imo. at least in this au #excuse all the “i think”s. me when i'm nervous about having an opinion on anything in public #this is all sensei au specific anyway so whatever but #the imposter syndrome man. makes me nervous #and god forbid i'm speaking to one of the greatest kuwagami minds at the same time #reread part of the everchanging a few days ago and remembered how good it was. just fyi #i wasn't built for writing long fic (stares into the distance) but here i am.... #gotta push through the doubt and believe in my love of kuwagami #but yeah. something about maturity/immaturity that i could probably pull on here #i'm still not sure how that throughline is going to play out #the contrast between the well put together (mature) sawa and the experienced but sometimes fumbling (immature-ish) kitakata #even though of course. sawa is the younger one. idk i think there's something there

[lialacleaf]

A Touch Too Personal

Chapter 2

Summary: You had a crush on Ghost since you started working for Price in communications, but the gruff, reserved Lieutenant only acknowledged your existence on the job. That starts to change with a simple, thoughtful gift. Warnings: Fluff, Simon is bad at processing emotions, past trauma

Imposter Syndrome is often described as feeling unworthy of good things. There’s no basis for this feeling, it’s simply a learned reaction.

It’s exactly how Simon felt after you’d given him that blanket.

He’d never gone out of his way to do anything nice for you. Hell, he barely regarded you when he dropped off his mission reports, which he now felt badly about. Being in that stuffy little office was probably bad enough, but being disregarded entirely by the people who counted on you was probably even worse.

After his most recent mission, he’d actually been too nervous to see you, and sent them in with Gaz. He’d fully intended to deliver them himself, and profusely thank you for the gift, but he had gotten stuck a few steps from your door, and aborted the mission entirely.

He felt like such a screw up, which lead him to his current predicament.

“You wanna do what now?” Soap asked as he sipped his morning coffee in the break room.

“I wanna get her a gift.” Ghost said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Why?”

Ghost was silent for a moment, starring Soap down with his piercing gaze. “Just ‘cause,” he said stiffly.

“You mean ‘cause of your blankie?” Soap teased and Ghost’s eyes widened. “Ah man she was so proud of that thing, couldn’t wait to give it to you.”

Ghost felt his face grow warm beneath his mask. “Alright, yes. She got me a gift, it’s only proper I do the same,” he said stiffly. “What do you usually get her?”

Soap took a long sip of his coffee. “Nothin’ at all.”

Ghost glared at him. “What?”

“You heard me. She doesn’t do it for something in return. She does it for the smile, the hug, and the thank you.” Ghost felt his blood go cold. “You gave her a hug, right L.T.?” Soap asked.

Ghost stared at him for a second or two, before turning on his heel and rushing out of the break room. Soap simply sighed and shook his head.

He was awful. An Awful, stupid, heartless creature. He needed to fix this, and fast, otherwise you might never regard him fondly ever again, and such an idea was suddenly very alarming despite his general disinterest in you as of a few days ago.

You’d done something so sweet for him, and he’d responded callously. He didn’t deserve the gift you’d given him.

Now he was faced with the challenge of making things right, but he didn’t know anything about you. What was he supposed to do that would redeem him in your eyes?

Soap said you liked actions more than receiving things in return. He could work with that.

~

Your fingers clacked away at your keyboard as the sun began to set, casting an orange glow through your open office window. You were sulking, hiding in your office so you didn’t risk running into him at the mess hall for dinner.

You’d finished your work an hour ago, but you were hoping if you waited until the tail end of the meal he’d be gone.

You felt so stupid, like you may as well have painted a clown face on and paraded around base telling everyone that you were a joke.

It could have been worse, you tried to reason. He could have simply not accepted it. It would have broke your heart if that had been his reaction.

With a sigh, you closed your laptop and pushed it into your bag. You could sulk more comfortably in your bunk. There was no reason to prolong your suffering in your hard-backed office chair.

Your tired feet carried you back to your room as your mind wandered. Did you really think that the Lieutenant Ghost would take an interest in someone like you? You weren’t anything special. Not like him and the rest of 141. You'd been so mystified by him that your brain had completely thrown logic out the window.

When you finally arrived at your room, there was a small, tan sticky note stuck to your door, and your brow furrowed.

My room, 20:00 -Ghost.

You felt your stomach drop. Was he mad at you? Was he going to tell you off for inappropriately giving him a gift?

You let out a sigh, shaking your head as you opened your door. You were too tired to think too long on it and instead focused on stripping your work clothes off in exchange for a comfy pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt.

You didn’t feel like going to the mess, even though you were starving, so you threw a package of noodles into your hot-pot and called it a day.

You didn’t bother putting on your work shoes when you slipped out to meet your Lieutenant, and slid on a pair of comfy slippers.

You knocked softly at his door, feeling awkward as a group of soldiers passed you in the hallway. You couldn't help but feel as if their whispers were somehow about you as if you were now the butt of a joke.

You hated feeling so anxious, so out of place. It was as if the rest of the world was laughing at you while you, emotionally speaking, tripped over your own feet.

His door opened with a creak, and your eyes flicked up from your feet to stare at the balaclava covering his face, not quite meeting his gaze.

You both stood quietly as you assessed each other, until he moved from the doorway and gestured for you to enter.

“Rough day?” He asked, taking in your disheveled state. His eyes seemed to linger on your slouched shoulders.

“Just long,” you stated, glancing around the room. You paused however when your gaze landed on his bed.

His blanket lay neatly folded at the foot of it, and you felt your heart jump to your throat. It was clear that he had been using it.

“Price said you’ve been working overtime.”

You jumped at the sound of his voice, and the feeling of his hand on your shoulders and he pushed you to sit on his bed.

“There’s been a lot to do,” you said, situating yourself comfortably. A lie, but you doubted he cared about what you did anyway. Your work probably didn't seem very important to him.

He hummed in response, cupping your cheeks as he gazed down at you. You felt your heart stutter as his thumbs gently dug behind your ear, rubbing soothing circles all the way to your collarbones.

“Lieutenant?” You asked in confusion.

“Hmm?” He hummed, massaging your biceps with his large, calloused hands.

You couldn’t help but let your eyes slide closed. “What…what are you doing?”

“Making sure you feel appreciated.”

You felt your face heat up at his words as he pushed you to lay on your back, massaging your calf muscles, before moving to your ankles and feet.

Appreciated didn't even begin to describe what you felt.

"You do an awful lot for us. Wanted to make sure you knew we see it."

You felt floaty, a soft feeling blanketing your mind as the day’s stress melted away. You tried to stay awake, but your body felt heavy, the intoxicating smell of Ghost lingering in your nose as a result of being in his space, and before you knew it you were softly snoring.

Ghost watched you carefully, pushing a stray hair out of your face and running his gloved thumb across your cheek.

You’d looked exhausted when you’d arrived, and he was glad to see you resting, even if it was in his bed. He couldn’t help but chuckle as he scooted in beside you. The blanket was big enough for the both of you after all. You'd made sure of that.

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@abbyandersonsblkgf @berryjuicyy @ayanokomu @oreo-cream

@shuttlelauncher81 @whore-for-anime @hipvelociraptor @pokiona

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#simon riley x reader #simon riley #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you

[allthethoughtsandstuff]

the movie was ADORABLE and it was QUEER and it was CHEESY and HAPPY and SILLY and CUTE and I LOVED it and I have some THOUGHTS and im going to put them here bc idk what else to DO

bad reputation playing after cakegate into the intro credits was the most slay choice

alex is a bracelets man send tweet

the closet scene at the hospital was such a slay 10/10 alex looking like a pissed off little kid the whole time like yeah buddy throw ur little temper tantrum we love to see it

they didn’t say fuck enough times in this movie they said it so many times in the book wtf like you had the r rating already just use it why would you not use it???

the timeline is hurting my brain they’re shifting stuff around I am questioning reality

rip obtuse fucking asshole

TZP 🫶🏻

HISTORY HUH BET WE COULD MAKE SOME IM CRYING

why did we invent miguel he’s a snake literally for why was he there

while we’re on the topic of miguel I disagree with having alex have been w him bc I think it takes away from his complete obliviousness and his thus huge moment of realization w henry so I think we get less of an alex finding himself and more of an alex exploring this part of him that he already knew was there which isn’t inherently bad for a film or book but I just always found alexs discovery of his queerness and the resulting shifting/understanding of things from his past to be such an important part of the book for me personally like just with the rearranging of things he’s always felt but never noticed or payed attention to is very special and gets lost when you give him this queer experience that he’s fully aware and understanding of

zahra for the win

THEMS ON THE BALCONY WITH THE CROWD OUTSIDE THE PALACE IM SO GLAD THEY DIDNT CUT THE CROWD

ugh the yellow rose tie I’m crying

THE FORCED CONFORMITY OF THE CLOSET CANNOT BE ANSWERED WITH FORCED CONFORMITY IN COMING OUT OF IT SAY IT LOUDER FOR THE PEOPLE IN THE BACK IM FUCKING SCREAMING

okay so ur going to talk about alexs eyelashes but NOT give the line to henry excuse me????

“take the american with you” im dying at that

girl they called the election so fast ik things move faster in movies but here’s me knowing how LONG it takes in the book and the SUSPENSE and the ADRENALINE and then it was just over like that before you even know it like damn

uma thurman woman that you are 💗

so I was thinking ab when they do the new years count down and these random girls kiss alex and I’m like damn no what it’s supposed to be nora but you know what then I realized they just made nora into a sister figure for alex since they got rid of june so their relationship is and always has been 100% platonic

it was so slay of them to literally open the movie with alex being nervous and thinking he’s going to mess up at the wedding and get rejected like yes thank you for addressing this boys perfectionism and imposter syndrome head on from the very beginning this is the alex we know and love

putting alex and henry in the same room when they’re talking on the phone to each other was such a good choice I love it

they made this movie for the readers you have to know the LORE you have to understand how DEEP henry and alexs relationship is and you simply cannot get that in a two hour film but goddamn did they do a good job trying

#rwrb spoilers #alex claremont diaz #casey mcquiston #rwrb film #rwrb movie #rwrb prime #rwrb book #rwrb #red white and royal blue #taylor zakhar perez #nicholas galitzine

[zepskies]

Assistant Hottie

Pairing: Jason Teague x F. Reader (implied Jason T. x Lana Lang)

Summary: Jason Teague, Assistant Football Coach, meets you in the faculty break lounge at Smallville High. He tries to kick you out, thinking you’re a student. Technically, you are. Turns out, you both go to the same university. 

AN: So I know it’s about 20 years late, but I’ve been wanting to write some Jason Teague for a while now. There’s a very dated reference to iPods (remember this show was circa early 2000s).

Word Count: 2,600 Tags/Warnings: Implied love triangle (quadrangle?), fluff, tinge of angst, and a meet cute.

“Hey, Coach T!”

Jason turns his head, shooting Clark Kent a smile that’s just a little bit forced. He slows down in the busy hallway so the younger man can catch up.

Clark’s friends, Chloe Sullivan and Lana Lang keep walking, though the brunette glances his way. Her hazel eyes catch his.

But Jason focuses on Clark, who’s coming at him with all six feet and three inches of farm boy earnestness.

Jason has City Boy Charm in his arsenal.

“What’s up, man?”

Clark smiles. “Real quick, just wanted to ask you about the drills we’re running today…”

Eighth period is about to start, meaning just another hour until school ends, and another day of practice begins on the football field. Clark takes all five minutes between classes to ask his questions about how he can better move the ball, his throwing technique, how to better communicate on plays with the rest of the guys.

As always, Jason gives Clark the best advice he has to offer. Even a few months into this job, he’s still feeling a bit of imposter syndrome. He’s only a couple of years older than the guys he’s coaching, and Clark is looking at him like he’s got all the answers.

Newsflash, champ. I don’t. Jason smiles though. 

Because Clark is something else. He’s a starting quarterback of a game he’s never played before in his life. Head Coach Quigley thought it was steroids at first, but Jason had a gut feeling about the guy.

“He’s not a cheater,” he’d told Quigley. The other man had scoffed, rubbing his chin.

“Okay, Teague. If you think so,” he said. “…Make him piss in a cup anyway.”

Since then, Clark hasn’t given Jason a reason to doubt him, at least on the field.

No, his reasons for still being wary of Clark are more…personal.

“All right, we’ll workshop the rest later on the field,” Jason says, as the starting bell rings. “You’re gonna be late for class.”

“Okay, see ya later.” Clark nods and holds up a hand in goodbye. To tell the truth, Jason is a little relieved to see him go.

Instead of heading to his office, he makes a pitstop at the faculty break lounge for a cup of coffee. He could use a little pick-me-up, even if it is from a watery K-cup.

When he pushes open the door, he’s greeted by the familiar smell of stale roasted hazelnut and microwaved fish. Along with the wall-to-wall countertop and refrigerator down the end, there’s a small round table fitted with just three chairs.

Uh oh, he thinks.

You’re sitting there with a pair of earbuds in, nodding to your music while you make notes with a red pen. The contents of your messenger bag are half-strewn across the table, displaying a couple of notebooks and binders, different colored highlighters, pens, and a post-it pad.

Your back is facing him, so he has to walk around the table to get your attention. He hesitates, before he taps your shoulder. He’s never had to do this before, and he’s actually a bit nervous.

“Hey there,” he says. His lips quirk when you jolt a little. You stare up at him with wide eyes and the top of your pen resting against your lower lip. 

“Uh…” You remove your ear buds and hit pause on your iPod.

“Did you get lost on the way to study hall, or you just here for the coffee?” Jason gestures to the Keurig machine on the counter. “Hate to break it to you, but that stuff’s not exactly quality joe.”

You blinked at him. “What? Um…I mean yeah, the coffee’s ass. But it is free, I guess.”

Jason tries to reign in his smile. He cards a hand through his blonde hair and taps his free hand on the table.

“Uh, are you ditching class or something?” he asks. “If it’s history, I get it. Snooze fest.”

He makes a flatlining motion with his hand. Your brows knit together in confusion…but then you brighten.

“Oh, I’m not a student,” you laugh. “But good on you for trying to lay down the law, Coach Teague.”

Now it’s Jason’s turn to be confused. “How did you know—”

You point with your red pen, over to the yellow patch emblazoned on his red polo that says: Crows Football and Assistant Coach.

“Pretty sure you’re the one the cheerleaders are calling Assistant Hottie,” you say. Your gaze is wry and a hint playful.

He lets himself smile, albeit with some embarrassment. He points at you.

“And you’re…”

“Part-time teacher’s aid,” you reply. Your hands make a frame around the stack of papers in front of you, that Jason now realizes you’re grading.

Great. His face warms a bit.

“Sorry,” he chuckles, and points to the coffee maker. “Let me just mind my business.”

He doesn’t know it, but you subtly watch him with a small smile while he goes about said business. The Keurig eventually spits out more roasted hazelnut into his Styrofoam cup.

With his prize in hand, he means to leave you in peace to head for his office, but your voice stops him.

“You can sit if you want. I need a break anyway.”

Jason can admit, at least to himself, that he’s curious. (About you.) He goes over to the table and sits down across from you. His eyes unconsciously dart over the splayed contents of your bag, and you don’t miss it.

“Sorry,” you say, as you try to reign in the mess and corral things back into your bag. “I’m kind of an organized chaos kind of girl.”

“No worries. I dabble in that philosophy myself,” he says with a grin. “I’m Jason, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you,” you reply, giving him your name in return.

You like his smile. His long fingers are wrapped around the steaming cup. Meanwhile, the afternoon sun is pouring in from the windows behind him. It shines golden on his hair and broad shoulders, and makes his green eyes look warm.

Those eyes glance down and focus on a familiar badge sticking out of your bag. His brows furrow.

“No way. You go to Kansas A&M?” he asks. “So do I.”

You blink at him. “What, you’re still in college?”

He laughs and leans back in his chair, blowing out a breath.

“Okay, wow! A bit rude," he says. "Just how old do you think I am?”

You bite your lip in embarrassment.

“Second thought, don’t answer that,” he quips.

“I’m sorry,” you say, through a bit of laughter. “I guess we’re both reading each other wrong today.”

Jason shakes his head and crosses his arms.

“No, no. It’s fine,” he says airily. “Lest I be any more presumptuous, can I ask what year you’re in? Major?”

You concede with a nod, but you’re still smiling too hard.

“Secondary Education. Junior year,” you say. Jason’s brows raise with his grin still in place.

“Okay, a future teacher on our hands.” He leans forward. “As it turns out, I’m actually a sophomore.”

A year below you. You bury your reddened face in your hands, though a giggle still bubbles up.

He doesn’t let you stew in your misery for long though.

“Eh, it’s okay. Don’t feel too bad,” he says. You hear the smile in his voice, and you peek out at him from between your fingers. “I’m technically a year behind. Transferred from another school so I could take this job.”

Once again, your eyes widen as your hands fall away from your face.

“Oh, yeah? I assume you play football, but I’ve never seen you on the team…”

Jason’s smile turns playfully cocky.

“I don’t play anymore, but I’ll have you know, I was on track for the NFL.”

Yeah, for about a minute, comes a dull reminder in his brain.

You rest your chin in your hand as you meet his smile. “Okay. You definitely have the face of a guy who almost went pro.”

Your voice lowers at the end there, impersonating every “dude bro” you’ve ever met who thought he could throw a ball across a field.

“I’m serious.” Jason laughs, but then his eyes dim a bit. “I played for Metropolis U. Tore my rotator cuff, and uh…that’s it. Scrubbed. Had to start over.”

You dim along with him. “That sucks ass. I’m sorry.”

He snorts, almost spilling his coffee. “You’ve certainly got a way with words.”

“But you feel better for me calling you old, don’t you?” Your pen taps on your lip, and his eyes are drawn to the gesture.

He also notices your eyes, the shape of your face, the shade of your hair, the black Fleetwood Mac shirt (with a ripped V hinting at cleavage). It doesn’t exactly scream T.A., but you’re pretty.

Beautiful, really.

He tries not to notice that too much.

“Maybe a little,” he allows. He smiles behind a sip of his drink. It’s getting cold, as he forgets to actually drink it.

“My parents sent me to college to be a lawyer,” you confess. It perks his interest with raised brows. “Like my mom, and my uncle, and his father before him, and so on.”

Jason’s smile is back. You consider that a small triumph.

“I sat in one class. Intro to Business Law.” You shudder at the memory. “Jason, I wanted to bludgeon myself with the textbook. And it wouldn’t have taken long. That thing was the size of a Dostoyevsky novel.”

Jason laughs, even though he doesn’t know who Dostoyevsky is. It does unearth a distant memory of his 12th grade English class (he barely passed that one).

“So, I decided to disappoint them,” you say ruefully.

That, he understands all too well. He raises a finger at you. “Hey, a teacher’s respectable. But I happen to be an expert at disappointed parents, so you’re in good company.”

You smile, small but genuine. Jason counts that as a win.

“What’s your major now?” you ask.

“Sports medicine,” he replies, but you both hear the lack of enthusiasm in his voice.

Your head tilts, and your eyes soften. Not with pity, he thinks. Maybe with understanding.

“You could find something else you’re actually passionate about,” you say.

Jason bites the inside of his lip, sets his cup back on the table.

“Sure,” he says.

His lackluster answer is telling, and he can’t even think of a joke to inject into this moment to lighten the mood. (He even disappoints himself there.)

“Look, I get it,” you say at last. “You probably ate, slept, breathed that game. Like that’s what you were put on this earth to do. And I know you must’ve been good. Because the fact that this school hired you while you’re still in college is amazing.”

He meets your gaze steadily. 

Your smile brightens. “But I’m sure football’s not all there is to you.” 

That touches him. Warms him even, though he’s reluctant to let it. 

“We just met, and you’re already sure about that?” he remarks. 

You shrug, gesturing at his cup. “Well, I’m sure that you probably have crappy taste in coffee. I’m broke as hell, and even I don’t drink from a Keurig.” 

Jason laughs. If you only knew that he’d spent his summer in Paris, sampling some of the best restaurants and cafés in the world without even looking at the bill…until his dad cut him off. Needless to say, he’s had to refine his tastes.

“What kind of teacher do you want to be?” he asks, instead of getting to all that.

Your brow arches. “You mean what subject?”

“Yeah. What, like physics or something?”

“Ew. God, no!” 

“What’s wrong with physics?”

“Too much math. I’m shit at that shit,” you reply. 

“Okay. No to the sciences.” He laughs and rubs his chin, squinting at you. “Let me see if I can guess.”

You gesture widely. Go ahead.

“Not economics, I’m thinking. Too close to business,” he teases.

“Business law,” you correct. “But you’re actually right about that.”

“Hmm, history?”

“It's interesting, but it’s also rigged,” you say. “Only the victors in society get to dictate what gets remembered. Just look at Columbus Day. What a sham that is.”

Jason allows that with a nod and a smile. “All right, what then? Algebra? Geometry?”

“That’s math, remember?” you reply, with furrowed brows. “Besides, I don’t like mixing letters and numbers. It’s not sanitary.” 

He chortles at that. You’re a little ridiculous, but he kind of likes that.

“Okay, how about English?” he says.

Your gaze flicks up to his. A small, growing smile. 

“What makes you say that?” you ask. 

“Process of elimination?” he says. His smile curves. He saw your little reaction. “But I don’t know. I get the feeling you’re a hell of a lot smarter than me. The way you’re talking, all quick as a whip… Like I said, you’ve got a way with words.”

You laugh a little. “Oh, do I?” 

Jason’s brows raise expectantly as he leans back in his seat again.

Well, then? that move says. “Am I right?”

Your head tilts, and you answer the unspoken challenge in his eyes. You raise a finger and pull out one of your notebooks and you take up your red pen. You tap the top of it on your lip, in what seems to be your habit, and you begin to write on a clean piece of paper.

Your hand moves with purpose on each word. Jason watches you in curiosity. Though when you realize he’s staring hard at your paper, your free hand forms a wall against his probing eyes.

“No cheating,” you reproach.

He scoffs, but he waits for you to finish.

Finally, you tear off the piece of notebook paper, fold it up neatly, and you slide it over to him.

“What, are we passing notes now?” Jason can’t help but joke, even as he opens the little gift. “I thought we weren’t in class, Professor.”

You shake your head. “Just read it.”

He starts to, and his smile grows. He glances back up at you. “You wrote me a poem?”

“Just a little haiku.” You gesture at him to keep reading while you start to pack up your things. The alarm bell just tolled for the end of class, and you have another job to get to.

Jason’s eyes lower back down to the looping scrawl of your handwriting. His smile deepens into a smirk.

Assistant Hottie

You flatter me, see through me

Smarter than he thinks.

He stares at your words for a while. He rereads the last line a few times.

By the time he looks back up, your bag is packed and you’re standing, ready to go. You smile at him.

“See you on campus,” you say. “I also work at the Writing Center, if you ever need a spruce up on your essays.”

“Can I get you to rewrite my history paper?” he teases.

“Make an appointment,” you counter, still with that smile. “And we’ll see.”

You leave the faculty lounge, and Jason feels a suspicious jolt in his heart.

Something he immediately feels guilty about. 

Because the real reason he came back to Kansas is to continue his summer fling with Lana Lang, a senior at Smallville High. 

Well, to him, it’s not a fling. He used to think it was as close to love as he’s ever been. Recently though, he’s been getting the sense that she’s still hung up on her not quite ex, Clark Kent.

That’s not even the most complicated part.

She’s 18, and Jason’s barely 20, but their relationship could still one day be the reason he loses his job…

And maybe, any chance he might have of being friends with someone like you.

AN: Lol no shade to my sciences, history, and math people! Just creating a character. Let me know what you think! 😉

And if you liked this...

Read the Sequel!

Check out "Miss Professor" to continue reading. ❤️

Smallville Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Jason Tag List:

(Includes "Everything" tags + "JT" tags.)

@sleepyqueerenergy @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @ades106 @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @brianochka @branj19 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @globetrotter28

@charmed-asylum @waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @mrsjenniferwinchester @jc-winchester @fromcaintodean @deanbrainrotwritings @jackles010378 @akshi8278 @rachiem4-blog @waters-2567 @jessjad @sweettimelady @iprobablyshipit91 @leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @lokigirl666 @xiphoidbones

#Assistant Hottie #Jason Teague #jason teague x reader #jason teague x female reader #jason teague x you #jason teague fics #smallville #jensen ackles characters #jensen ackles #lana lang #smallville clark kent #clark kent #zepskies writes

[bunni-v1]

Congrats for 500 followers! If it’s alright, could I have A, G, J, K, P, and S from the sfw prompt list for Idia? Thanks!

🍓Thank you so much! I'm happy to have so many people who like me so much! This event is good practice for me too, and a breather from the intensity of the fic I'm writing right now. (I'm more excited to write for Idia than anything else, he's just so silly, you know?)

A - Affection: Idia is quite a nervous wreck when it comes to affection, that's for sure. Up until getting into a relationship, he thought the couples that were all mushy-gushy with each other were gag-worthy. However, now that he's in a relationship he's desperately craving that same kind of touch. He's like a feral cat, you've gotta coax him into it, and once he's into it he won't want to stop. Seriously, if you catch him at a good time he's so damn clingy. Lays on top of you, have you sit in his lap while he games, cuddles up to you during movie marathons, smothers you in kisses, all the nasty stuff. He'd rather die than be seen doing it in public though.

G - Gentle: Believe me or not, Idia is very gentle. Yeah, he's sarcastic and sharp with other people, but with you he's different. I mean, he's still... sarcastic and sharp, but it's playful and light. He's having fun and he's trying to make you smile, and that's his form of being gentle. If you were ever really hurt by something he said he might just have to end it all. Seriously, it would make him feel so bad, that he'd be groveling at your feet for weeks. Physically, however, I'd say he's gentle but really clumsy. He treats you like the most expensive piece of jewelry in the world, but he also has accidentally almost suffocated you under his weight at some point.

J - Jealousy: Idia is the most jealous man you've ever met. ("You know other men?") He's got an inferiority complex mixed with imposter syndrome and depression, leave him alone. He's not going to force you to stop hanging out with people by any means -- in fact, he's kinda jealous that you have so many friends in the first place. Still, he huffs and puffs and pouts about how much better they would be for you and how much happier you'd be with them. Again he won't act on anything unless he REALLY felt threatened. Like, if Vil ACTUALLY made a move on you? Game Over, Idia is running from his room to intervene.

K - Kisses: Just like everything else, Idia is an AKWARD kisser. It's not his fault he's so anxious, okay, he's doing his best. Idia's specialty, however, is lazy kisses. You know, the ones where you just lay next to each other early in the morning (in his case, late at night), and just kiss slow and easy, like there's nothing else more important. Those are his faves. Speaking of, he LOVES to kiss your cheeks -- you're just so cute when he catches you off guard. It's the same for him, your little surprise kisses on his cheeks may send him into a heart attack, but he does love them so much.

P - Patience (how easily angered are they?): He has a temper, that's for sure. While it's rarely ever directed at you, it can be kind of scary to see him rage. I mean, his hair literally turns orange and flames up -- and damn is it hot when he's angry. Still, his temper only really applies to things like games or tv shows, rarely would he ever have a reason to aim it at you, unless you destroyed his limited edition merch or something.

S - Security (how protective are they?): Idia is a VERY protective person. He's been through a lot, and he's lost a lot, now that he has you he won't be losing you. He texts you constantly throughout the day to see how you are feeling, and what you're up to. If you're stressed, you are always free to come to his dorm and raid his room for all the comfy blankets and yummy snacks you need. He also literally keeps an eye on you from the campus security feed -- if he sees someone bothering you, either he or Ortho will be there within seconds to ensure you're happy and safe. On the other hand, you standing up for him and making him feel like he's worthy of your love and all the good things he has is all he ever wants. It's all he needs.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #x reader #bunni's treats 🧁 #idia shroud x reader #idia shroud

[honeybcj]

What’s ur opinion on Trans James Potter?

trans james potter you say? buckle up everyone because i have a lot to say about trans james. he’s soooo dear to me. he’s always on my mind. (honest to god james potter eats away at my mind in the same capacity as barty does i literally have a side blog 👁️👄👁️ peep u all finding out i have another blog……..) anywho! the king of trans james in my most humble opinion belongs to mar ( @messymoony hi love i’m smooching ur noggin ) he writes trans james in a way that makes every nerve in my body feel like it’s on fire while i simultaneously bash my head against a while and sob hysterically because i’ve never loved a man more. i need to protect that man with everything inside me. one thing that i think about a lot is the fact that james is the kind of guy to come out later in his life—his partner is trans, and he’s always been so supportive of the trans community. it’s not until he dives further into the exploration of his own gender identity, after years of being with regulus, when he finally starts putting the pieces together. he’s subtle at first, not really fully expressing himself. he even toys around with different gender expressions and identities whether that be dressing more masc-presenting, getting his first gender-affirming haircut (can confirm he stared at himself in a mirror for half an hour and cried because he felt so good about himself), feeling out they/them pronouns to see if that fits him best, but ultimately he feels most confident in identifying as a man and using he/him pronouns. it’s rocky at first, not because he doesn’t have support. he’s nervous because he’s loved his life one specific way for so long, and there’s a sense of imposter syndrome. it isn’t until one night when he’s spending quality time with reg when he breaks down completely, crying his eyes out because he’s kept his truth hidden for so long. he pours his heart out to reg, softly admitting, “i would prefer it if you use he/him pronouns for me.” reg is all teary-eyed, wrapping james in the tightest hug possible, reassuring him that he is so proud of james for opening up to reg and feeling comfortable enough to be his true, authentic self. to me, it’s really important to see representation for trans people who don’t come out until much later in life. one of my dearest, dearest coworkers always talks about how she wishes her identity was seen more often portrayed in media, and when it comes to james’ character and who he is, it’s so very fitting that he would be the kind of person that doesn’t transition until later in life. (also potentially because my coworker is a james gal as well fjskslla) but overall, trans james potter is my beloved, my dearest and sweetest. i adore him with everything in me.

#han’s asks #james potter #trans james potter

[welcome-back-to-hoimycraf]

Mumbo was having an awful night.

Well- not really. It was actually quite nice on the surface; Jellie snuggled up against his side, Scar humming softly to thaerself in the kitchen, the sweet scent of baking cookies wafting throughout the room. Honestly, it would be a great night under normal circumstances! Only, these weren’t normal circumstances. Tonight, Mumbo would tell his partner that he’s nonbinary.

He’d realized this about himself about two months ago. The subject of imposter syndrome brought up to his therapist turned into a discussion on identity, then self worth, and finally circled into him making a rather important discovery. Of course, Mumbo immediately had to tell Grian, making the avian the only other person who knew. And now he was going to tell the other most important person in his life, Scar, as well. He still felt a bit silly, being twenty-eight and only now figuring out a core aspect of his identity, but he couldn’t change things now. 

His leg shook with nervous energy as he stroked Jellie’s back. Her purring was helping, if only slightly. He appreciated it nonetheless. Honestly, he wished he could be Jellie right about now. No worries about gender or coming out or losing your partner or anything like that. Lucky, he thought as he glanced at her contently sleeping face. 

“Earl gray or chamomile tonight, my lovely mustach-ioed friend?” Scar’s voice called from the kitchen. Well, would it even be a call if the man was standing five feet away? 

Mumbo flushed a bit at the compliment even though he’d heard it a million times and counting. “Chamomile, please.” He could probably use the relaxation it would grant him if his distressed mustache twirling was any proof of his mental state. 

The nymph leaned over the back of the couch where Mumbo was lying to flash him a handsome smile. “Coming right up, beautiful!” And as quick as he appeared, ny were gone. 

The taller snickered at that, though his chest filled with warmth. It was weird, how much he liked to be called more feminine terms over masculine ones once he’d done all that thinking about his gender. Though, he found that he didn’t mind the want for change.

The tapping of Scar’s forearm crutches brought him back into reality. He looked over to where the sound was coming from only to find a steaming cup of tea already being handed his way. He sat up and provided a quick thank you before taking the saucer, Scar leaning down to place a small plate of warm, gooey white chocolate macadamia nut cookies on the coffee table. Mumbo breathed in the frankly delicious smell of the freshly baked goods. He always loved the other’s cooking (and if his sweet tooth could have a say in it, he loved the sweets best). 

Mumbo glanced to his right where Scar was settling next to him on the couch with their own cup and plate of chocolate chip cookies (he never liked white chocolate much), resting their crutches on the arm of the couch. Jellie took the opportunity to immediately leave her comfy spot for Scar as xae sat. 

He let out a mock gasp. “Traitor! Betrayal of the highest order!” 

Scar just rubbed her head and giggled as she made herself comfortable in their lap. “She just loves her father, she can’t help it.”

“I’m, like, her other par-” Mumbo cut himself off before slipping up, “father!” He cringed at the use of the term. It seemed like ever since realizing he was nonbinary, every masculine term hurt worse and worse each time it was said. 

If Scar noticed anything wrong, she didn’t show it, only waving his hand in playful dismissal. “She’s like this with Cub, too, and she’s known him for almost as long as me. Don’t worry about it.”

Mumbo huffed in fake offense, picking up a cookie and holding his hand under it in an attempt to not to get crumbs all over his sweater while he took a bite. “Foh my goodnefss, dese are delicess,” he mumbled through a mouthful of dough and chocolate. 

Scar giggled and swatted him lightly. “Don’t speak with your mouth full, it’ll teach Jellie bad manners!” They gasped, pressing her hands to Jellie’s ears (which the cat quickly slipped out of).

They bickered lovingly back and forth for a bit before a comfortable silence passed over them. Well, it might’ve been comfortable if it didn’t bring Mumbo back into panic mode. He was at a crossroad. On one hand, they were having such a nice time and he didn’t want to ruin it, but on the other, if he didn’t tell Scar, he’d hate their time spent together for the rest of his life. He never wanted to hear the words man, or dude, or sir, gentleman, or fellow, or Mr. ever again. So, really, there was only one option-

“Mumbo?” 

“Huh?” The mustached asked, jumping slightly. How long had he been calling him?

Scar titled faer head. “Are you alright?”

Mumbo let out a strained laugh. “Yup! Never been better!” He gulped. That wasn’t very convincing. 

The nymph was just giving him a look of concern and Mumbo sighed. It was now or never, he supposed. “L-look I…” he trailed off before taking a deep breath and gathering his (albeit, very small) courage. “I have something to tell you.”

The other looked a bit distressed at the words, but urged his partner to continue. 

Mumbo cleared his throat. “I’m nonbinary,” he blurted out quickly, just to get it over with.

Scar blinked in shock. “Oh,” she paused before leaning closer and resting a hand on Mumbo’s arm. “Wait- is this what you’ve been so nervous about all night?”

This time it was Mumbo’s turn to be shocked. “What do you mean- I’ve been perfectly normal and not anxious!”

The nymph gave him a deadpan look. “Mumbo, we both know that’s a lie.”

He let out a sigh of defeat. “Yeah, but- So you’re not…. mad at all?”

The man looked appalled at that. “What? Mumbo, I’m trans, why would I be mad that you’re nonbinary?”

Oh, right. He kinda forgot that it would be hypocritical of them. “I don’t know, maybe because I’m your partner?”

Scar’s expression softened and he cupped Mumbo’s face in his hands, which he couldn’t help but lean into. “You know that doesn’t matter to me. I love you, regardless of what your gender is or what pronouns you use.”

A wave of bittersweet relief washed through him and Mumbo couldn’t help when tears welled up in his eyes. He wiped them away before they could fall and took a shaky breath. “Thank you.”

His partner took his hand and kissed the back of it, helping him wipe his face. When Mumbo opened his eyes again, Scar was already handing him his (somehow still warm) tea. “So, do you have a new name or pronouns you’d like to go by? I could help you pick some out!” He suggested, almost bouncing with excitement at the prospect.

Mumbo chuckled softly as he took a sip. “Sadly, no,” with that Scar playfully deflated, wiping a fake tear from his eye, “I still use he/him and go by Mumbo. Though, I would like to drop the masculine descriptors- if that’s alright.”

“Of course it is!” Scar clapped his hands together with glee. “Oh, I’m so happy you’ve told me! Are you ok with feminine ones?”

The taller shrugged. He figured a change of pace would be nice. “Sure, I don’t see why not.”

The builder cackled mischievously and Mumbo briefly regretted his answer. “I can’t wait to introduce you as my girlfriend.”

At that, the mustached burst out laughing. “We’re not even dating!”

Scar only grinned smugly. “They don’t know that. Just me and my beautiful queer-platonic girlfriend have to know.”

Mumbo flushed a bit more as they giggled in sync. The nymph pressed their foreheads together and squeezed him around the shoulders. “Love you, Mumbo.”

He couldn’t help but embrace the warmth filling his chest as he hugged Scar back. “I love you, too.”

#fanfic #my fanfic #hermitfic #hermitcraft #hermitcraft 9 #hermitshipping #kinda #mumscar #redscape #mumbo jumbo #goodtimeswithscar

[oh-austin]

going method, part three (austin butler)

summary: you're playing priscilla presley in the new elvis biopic, when your co-star asks you if you would like to date him during the filming of the movie to better understand elvis and priscilla's relationship.

word count: 2,695

authors note / warnings: mentions of medication, imposter syndrome, parental passing and mental health struggles! another going method part up!! I'm so glad you all like it so much, the love and feedback I have been receiving is unreal <3 if you would like to be added to the tag list send me an ask and I'll put you down! unfortunately it wouldn't let me tag some of you which is really frustrating, so I've popped a line through the ones that didn't work :( I hope you all enjoy the third part of going method!

series masterlist / previous + next part

────── ∘◦❀◦∘

You knew that Austin was busy, he was the star of the entire film- but for the last four days you feel like you had barely seen him. 

His trailer was always empty when you went to put his lunch in his mini-fridge, some days the meal from the previous one still in there. You were beginning to worry about him. You wondered if maybe you had been coming on too strong, if he could tell your feelings were starting become a little more real than just acting. You couldn’t help but worry that he was avoiding you. 

Whenever you did manage to see Austin, it was only for filming a scene together. It was hard to act in love when you were so nervous that he was beginning to doubt your relationship. As fake as the romance was, your friendship was just as important to you. 

Filming your scenes together wasn’t completely terrible. Austin would still talk to you as normal, but never as enthusiastic- he seemed flat with you. A man who once gave you such warm smiles was able to make your chest cold with regret and doubt. 

When Baz yelled cut Austin was always whisked away too quickly for you to catch him. He would kiss you on the cheek and go off to wardrobe, makeup, his trailer- you couldn’t keep up with him. He was always on the move, always working. Always doing something.

At the end of the fifth day of barely hearing from Austin, you decided that you would have to go out of your way to find him and figure out what was wrong. The thought of the possibility of confrontation with Austin made your throat close with anxiety and your hands sweat a pathetic amount. 

You already looked at the call times earlier in the morning, you knew that Austin finished a few hours after you- he usually did. You waited in your trailer, not wanting to distract anyone from doing their job. You ran lines, you watched interviews with Priscilla and re-read the first seven chapters of her book. Soon enough you knew they would have wrapped for the day and Austin would be heading back to hair and makeup, ridding himself of Elvis for the day- but never fully. 

You headed to his trailer a little while after, wondering if you might beat him there- you knew how laborious it was to take off the prosthetics when they were filming 70s scenes. There had been many nights, you sat there whilst Austin was getting them taken off.

Austin’s trailer was the closest to the doors of set, yours a few more back from his. You spoke to Tom in passing, but he could tell you had somewhere important to be, so he didn’t keep you. For that you were grateful. 

You knocked softly on Austin’s trailer door when you arrived. There was no answer. You knocked again, waiting before slowly entering. 

It was empty. Austin obviously not done in hair and makeup. The trailer looked untouched from when you left it today, the salad you had done for him at craft on the countertop where you had left it at lunch time. You opened the door of his mini-fridge, the lunches from two previous days were sat in there. You wondered when the last time Austin ate was. 

You sat down on the couch to wait for Austin, but your eyes couldn’t help but wander around the trailer. There were stacks of books about Elvis on the kitchen bench. Another record player was set up with King Creole on the needle. A mountain of tissues adorned the bin near the kitchenette and there were two boxes of medicine opened on the counter. 

You tried your best not to snoop, you really did- but you were worried. One was just a box of ibuprofen, the other some melatonin for sleep. Your heart rate slowed at the normalcy of the medication, maybe you were worrying about nothing.

You knew that wasn’t the case when you saw Austin.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Was the very first thing he asked you. In that moment you knew his distance had noting to do with you both, but it was him. He looked tired, exhausted. His beautiful blue eyes were dull and his face pale. This wasn’t your Austin, but the shell of a man who had no more to give to what he loved.

“Oh my god, Austin,” You couldn’t help but rush over to him.

“What’s up? Are you alright?" He was still worried about you. He looked like he could collapse, but was still worried about you.

“Are you?” Your voice got louder involuntarily, “What’s going on with you? Where have you been, I feel like I’ve barely seen you. Are you okay?” 

“I’m alright,” He shook his head with an excuse for a laugh and shuffled past you, “I’m not feeling well, but I’m alright. Probably just a cold or something,” He sat on the couch and took his boots off. Austin was a great actor, but he was not a good liar. 

“Please don’t lie to me right now,” You took a deep breath, trying to stay calm because you knew that he needed it. But a sense of frustration was beginning to grow in your chest as his lack of care for himself. 

“Y/N, baby. I just have a cold,” He held up his hands, trying his best to convince you, “Been trying to keep you well, mamas,” He chuckled.

“No,” You shook your head at him. He grew concerned at your change in attitude, you could see right through him. “Don’t ‘mamas’ me, that’s not going to work,” You crossed your arms, “You’ve been avoiding me all week, you look like shit and you’re lying to me about why,” You crouched down in front of him. The gaze in Austin’s eyes shifted, as if the facade he was fighting to keep up had dropped. “Tell me the truth, Austin,” You asked, “Please,” You begged, “I’m worried about you,”

That was all he needed to hear for his heart to break. It was as if another person had came in and replaced the man who sat before you. Austin’s head dropped into his hands with a sigh, soon his breaths turned into crying and them into sobs.

“I can’t think straight,” He cried. You grabbed onto his legs with your arms, trying your best to console him from where you were. 

“Talk when you’re ready,” You nodded, “I can wait,” 

And you did. 

As Austin cried, you moved to sit next to him and let him cry into your chest. He sounded tired, he felt heavy. You held him as tight as you could for as long as he wanted, prepared to do it for as long as he needed.

When Austin finally spoke, he said “I don’t even know who I am anymore”. Even then, remains of the southern drawl still coated his words and suddenly, you knew what was wrong. “I just-“ Austin looked up at your with red eyes and a tear and mucus stained face, “I love this movie so much, and-“ He panted, “And I want to give it everything that I am, but I-“ Austin stopped for a moment before crawling back into your arms once more- “I don’t even know who I am anymore, and how can I give my all when I don’t know what it is,”

Your eyes welled up with tears as you listened to him speak. “Would you like me to listen or give you advice?” You asked softly, “Tell me what you need, okay? I’ll do my best,” 

Austin was quiet for a while, the only sound that could be heard in the trailer was his jagged breaths and sniffs. “Y/N?” He asked, his head buried in your embrace.

“Yes, Austin?” You sniffed.

“Would you maybe just hold me for a little while longer?”

You let out a teary laugh as a response, “Of course I will,” You nodded. You rested your chin on top of Austin’s head, placed a kiss on his hair. You honestly weren’t sure how much time passed in the silence as you sat together, but you waited. Your hands stayed cradling Austin, one of them holding his head close to your heart, the other held his back and gently rubbed it back and forth.

You thought about speaking first, not sure if Austin wanted you to- but you thought that maybe it was want he needed. “Austin?” He let out a meek hum in response, “I know we haven’t known each other for that long, but I think I know who you are,”

Silence once more. Austin sat up after a long pause. He looked distraught. Face red and eyes to match. He wiped some snot from underneath his nose, then wiped some tears from his face. You could never have imagined seeing him so vulnerable.

“I know you’re kind and the most dedicated person,” You couldn’t bring yourself to look at Austin in this state, “Not only to your work, but to the people that you love. You’re smart, very well-spoken and you love making other people smile,” You continued. “I get why everyone who works with you loves you, you’re addictive. The way you speak to people makes them want to hear everything that you have to say, think,” You shook your head as you played with your hands. “And I’m really proud of you for working so hard on this movie,” You finally broke away from looking at your hands to meet Austin’s gaze.

“But there are so many things that I’m not proud of you for,” You admitted, “You don’t eat during the day, you don’t listen to your body. You’re so entrenched in another man’s world that you don’t pay attention to the one that you live in,” It was hard to speak with such negativity, but you knew he needed to hear how concerned you were. “You never take breaks, you’re always moving and you never give yourself a second to relax. You’re a very talented person Austin, and I know you want to get this perfect for him, for Priscilla and Baz and Elvis’ family- but you need to slow down. You’re going to burn out,” You shook your head again, tears beginning to fall again, “You’re going crash and we’ll all have to watch it because you don’t slow down”. 

You took a deep breath before grabbing hold of Austin’s hands, bringing them up to your mouth to kiss them. Austin let out another sob as you watched him, “You are Austin, not Elvis. You’re two different people and I know that this is what you want- I know you want to get it right. So, no matter how hard you fall into this hole, I promise I’ll do my best to pull you back out of it; but you need to take care of yourself,” You cried, “Please,” 

Austin began to nod as he cried. It didn’t take long for him to fall back into your arms, “I’m not him,” He whispered, “I’m Austin,”

“Yeah, you’re Austin,” You nodded, kissing his head.

“I needed that,” He sobbed, “I needed that, I needed you to pull me out and I’m sorry”. “I’m so sorry Y/N,” Austin cried harder than he had before, but you felt like a weight had been lifted from his chest. “I’m so so sorry,” 

“Don’t apologise,” You whispered into his hair, “You’re very special to me Austin, I can’t watch you do this to yourself,” 

“I promise I’ll be better,” Austin held you tight, “I promise you,”

Austin soon fell asleep in your arms. You weren’t sure how long you sat there for, but you knew that you had to move Austin into bed. You tried your best to coax him from his sleep, after a while you managed to wake him enough to move him into his bed. You pulled the blankets up over his chest and tucked his side in so he wouldn’t get cold overnight. You were thankful he had changed into a t-shirt and sweatpants before leaving wardrobe so you knew he would sleep comfortably. 

You filled a glass of water and put it next to Austin’s bed for him in the morning before picking up around the room for a bit. You stacked away the records and books into a corner, trying your best to seperate Austin from Elvis. Reminding him subconsciously that he is only a part of Austin’s life, not the entire thing.

You looked down the trailer to see Austin sleeping soundly. It was the most peaceful you had seen him in a long time. It was comforting to see.

You set yourself up on the couch, worried to leave Austin alone incase he woke up in a panic again. You didn’t have a blanket or pillow, but you didn’t mind. Sleep soon came, dreams weren’t far away- in between the two were thoughts and worries about Austin. Austin, not anyone else or anything else. Not the Austin on set, or Austin in a glitzy costume, but the Austin that sat with you for hours on the living room floor. That was the real Austin, you promised yourself that night that you would always do your best to remind him of who he was. He deserved to know.

─── ∘◦❀◦∘

When Austin woke up, he felt lethargic. His eyes were sore, his chest was heavy. Memories from the night before came flooding back as he laid staring at the ceiling.

He was lucky to wake up before his alarm, means he had a moment of peace and quiet to himself- a rarity these days. Austin laid for a little while longer before getting up.

Y/N laid curled up on his couch, her hands tucked under herself to keep warm. Her words filled his head, he was so thankful someone was able to get through to him. It was days like yesterday that he missed his mother, the only woman who was ever really able to bring him back down.

Austin smiled softly before crouching down and running his hand over her hair. "Y/N," He whispered, "Baby, wake up,"

You stirred from your sleep, your eyes fluttering open. "Hey," Your voice was tired and quiet, "Morning,"

"Morning," Austin's hand running through your hair could've lulled you back to sleep if he didn't keep speaking to you, "Mamas, you gotta get up- we've got shooting in an hour,"

"I don't wanna get up," You sighed. Trying your best to stretch out your back, you sat up straight on the couch. Austin winced as some of your joints clicked.

"Baby, why didn't you sleep on the bed?" He shook his head in disbelief.

"I thought you might want some space when you woke up," You whispered, rubbing your eyes. "Couch wasn't bad," You shrugged.

"This thing was made in the 80s and feels like it too," Austin raised his eyebrows at you, "Now who's lying?"

You shook your head with a smile, "You're funny,"

"Hey," He whispered to you. You looked up to meet his gaze. Two pairs of tired eyes looked at each other with the utmost respect for the other. "Thank you for last night, that was very nice of you," Austin nodded, "I really do appreciate you a lot, you know that right?"

"I appreciate you too," You smiled, "And because you appreciate me, you're going to eat the lunch I make for you today, right?" You crossed your arms, leaning back on the couch.

"Mamas, I will eat everything you send my way," He held his hands out for you to grab. Austin helped you to your feet. "I've still gotta eat what's in the fridge,"

"Yeah, don't think I'm forgetting about that," You pointed at him, making your way to the door of the trailer.

"I wouldn't expect you to," Austin laughed. As he watched you walk out of his trailer, he realised that you were a sight that he would be happy to appreciate forever.

─── ∘◦❀◦∘

@rainydayz101 @sammybutler @klizzie93 @rockerchick05 @fanatics30 @sh-aniah @little-rythmix @austinsrealgf @hallecarey1 @catertotshitposts @abloversblog @inkpot-winters @adrientte715 @gabrielajimenez77-blog @butler-trouble

#Austin Butler imagine #austin butler #austin butler one shot #austin butler x reader #Austin Butler series #elvis 2022 #austin butler drabble #austin butler fluff #ab going method #celeste writes fics

[nebula-award]

rottmnt headcannon time

Nov 5, 2023: This is from Jan 11, 2021 btw!! Old old old headcanons but I still like them

Raph 

(Head’s up- almost everything I headcannon on the big guy is me projecting)

-Genderfluid/Genderqueer (thanks sascha) Panromantic Demiromantic Asexual

-He’s the least educated on LBGTQIA+ terms (that honor goes to Leo)

-This kinda caused him to go through a sexuality crisis and for a while he thought he was aroace like Donnie until Leo helped him out with understanding the aro spectrum

-He has social anxiety. It’s a moderate case- little on the extreme side. (Let me project)

-He has separation anxiety (extreme case)

(-It’s kind of implied in S1:21A, but) I imagine Raph lost Splinter and his brothers in NY when he was little, and since then he’s had nightmares and fears of losing his family or waking up one day and they aren’t there. (Time to write some angst :D)

-Very introverted (unless he’s in a fight, then he pretty talkative because he’s more confident)

-Dyslexic (Donnie’s the one that helps him if he can’t understand a word)

-He tries really hard to finish the book he’s reading but either gets too bored, forgets about it, or reading it gets too hard (if it’s the third option he’ll try to read it again bc he doesn’t like quitting)

-ADHD (inattentive type)

-Chews on his mask tails (I love this headcanon so much and I do the same thing with my hair)

-Overprotective (like if you lay a hand on his family, you’re probably going to die by his hands)

-Loves food, like anything with tons of flavor.

-Not a fan of clothing. Even with clothes measured to fit him, he won’t wear them. He’ll do it if it’s needed for a mission or for something of importance.

-He’s a decent cook. Not as good as Mikey, but the family enjoys his meals.

-The only thing he can’t make is popcorn (He’ll always accidently burn at least one bag)

-Developed a minor dissociative disorder and his anxiety became more extreme when Leo became leader

-Tried to learn German (He’s not the best, but the words are easier for him to understand)

Donnie

-Nonbinary Aromantic Asexual

-Doesn’t mind he/him but prefers if people used they/them

-Ambivert (More of a introvert)

-Hates physical contact

-But LOVES compression. Every blanket he owns is weighted, his battle shell is a pressure stim, loves hoodies because of how heavy they are (Projecting, projecting)

-He has depression 

-Perfectionist

-Slight OCD

-When Donnie cooks, he’ll spend hours in the kitchen and no one is allow in. (It doesn’t taste good after either) (He’s better with machines)

-Knows a good of ASL (American sign-language) and JSL (Japanese sign-language) He studied ASL more than JSL because they live in NY.

-Learned some German when he helps Raph study the language, and French when he was helping Mikey, Leo taught him some Spanish

Leo

-Bisexual Gray-Aromantic Demiboy (Prefers neopronouns)

-He has imposter syndrome. He doesn’t feel like he’s doing enough for the team and copes by trying to seem overconfident. (This also plays a factor in his becoming leader as he feels like he doesn’t deserve the role)

-He has a dissociative disorder

-Extremely extroverted

-ADHD (hyperactive)

-Red/Green colorblind (hence why blue is his favorite color) 

-He’ll usually go into flight mode and freeze if he’s in really bad danger (the brothers have tried to snap him out of it) then he’ll joke it off

-Jokes are his comfort (Kind of cannon)

-NEVER LET THIS MAN INTO A KITCHEN. The last time he cooked, the lair almost burned down.

-Speaks nearly perfect Spanish. He picked up a few words when with Señor Hueso leading to him asking the Hueso to teach him Spanish. (He was a surprisingly fast learner.) He has a harder time reading Spanish.

-Loves singing songs in Spanish

Mikey

-Gay, (still haven’t decided a gender but I’m thinking agender, trans, or boyflux)

-Bites/chews his nails when his nervous, excited, or overstimulated

-Best chef award goes to him

-He’s the one that’s always trying something new

-Not a fan of learning languages. (It’s just not something he enjoys doing) With that said, he can read a fair amount of French, yet he can’t speak it as well.

April

-Omniromantic Asexual

-She’s a choir and theatre kid

-Introduced Leo and Donnie to the theatre world 

Mad Dogs

- They all are nearly fluent in Japanese and English. This is mainly because Splinter wanted them to learn a few languages and even encourages them to learn more.

- the turtles base their ages off April’s age (16) and who Splinter claimed the oldest and youngest to be. 

-They throw a Karaoke competition in the lair sometimes. (Leo is the reigning champion as always) 

-Leo and April bond over singing and sing duets all the time (No one in the base complains) 

-Leo and Donnie like to sing “Confrontation” from Jekyll & Hyde ALL. THE. TIME. 

-Donnie and Leo aren’t allowed in the kitchen. 

-Leo and Raph learn to co-lead

-Whenever Raph is having a (social) problem he’ll either go to Leo or April for help

-Splinter used to call them by the color of their marks Donnie was purple, Mikey was orange, Leo was red, Raph was green. (And I’m going to write a fic later I swear) (NOV 11, 2023: I DID WRITE THAT FIC)

#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #tmnt #headcannons

[ohtobeascruntycat]

what are your thoughts on ryunosuke naruhodo

*cracks knuckles*

He is THE man ever! genuinely one of my favorite characters ever! I love his small black coffee with blueberry flavor shot energy, just a simple regular man who has something wrong with him!

This man has zero self-preservation especially when it comes to the people he cares about. He loves his family and would do absolutely anything for them; he committed treason for Gina and he barely even knew her! And speaking of Gina, she is really just the exact kind of person he needed to meet at the time. Like he's still feeling guilty about Megundal and even after Souseki he's still questioning whether a lawyer should trust his client and here comes Gina whom he KNOWS lied, but he's still willing to believe in her and finally really understands what Kazuma meant about believing in his client.

And just his whole arc that is spread out so well across the two games and the fact that he clearly struggles with imposter syndrome the whole way through. He sees himself as just Kazuma's substitute for so long until he finally realizes that being a lawyer and finding the truth IS what HE wants to do and not just because that's what Kazuma would want. The "I'm not doing this for you" line isn't just about him getting over his idolization, but it's also about Ryuu finally realizing what he wants! I honestly see that line as the climax of his character arc and it makes me so insane.

Also he's just. So funny and tactless. I love his stupid little internal quips and when he does shit like march into Barok's office and roast his interior decorating with Iris while the man is standing right there. Also he makes no sense like why is he terrible at kyudo but great at yabusame. He makes fun of Herlock and doesn't really like him at first, but also immediately gets SO into the Dance of Deduction. He's so underwhelming but manages to learn British law in the span of a month well enough to become a competent lawyer. At that point, he's even more of a prodigy than Kazuma. Also he like clearly gets so nervous around people of authority, but when it comes down to it he WILL go for the fucking throat.

He may look like a stick of room-temperature butter, but he is so important to me. I love him so much <3

#angomay #ryuunosuke naruhodou #dgs #tgaa #dgs2 spoilers #dgs spoilers #hi may im sorry but you unleashed the ryuuckoning #this is all over the place and honestly i could say more but this is enough #ryuunosuke my beloved #just some guy of all time

[puppygirl82]

I tend not to over share much. I am a relatively private person so sharing this is a huge step for me because I struggle with being vulnerable but I think maybe it's time.

I have spent so much of my life worried about how much space I took up in the world. Trying desperately to make myself as small and unnoticeable as possible. I learned early on that people are cruel and trust can easily be misplaced. So I closed myself off and in the process I lost myself.

I am a big person, with big emotions and sometimes, more often than not, that makes people uncomfortable. I let other people's discomfort control who I was, what I did, or more so didn't do, what I said and so on to the point that I never got the chance to find out who I was. I spent so much time being who everyone else thought I should be, who society told me I should be, that I never got to have those experiences most people had growing up. I missed out on so much because of fear. Fear of judgment, fear of being endlessly teased by my peers, fear of rejection from my loved ones, that now, I'm 40 and just beginning to allow myself to let who I am come out and meet the world.

The great part is I still have time to do it. I can still be who I am unapologetically. I can wear the clothing my 16 year old self wished I had. I can buy the things that make my strange macabre heart flutter. I can indulge myself in everything society told me I shouldn't.

Society dimmed my shine because I was different. I wasn't the traditional body type, I wasn't conventionally attractive, I wasn't interested in the traditional. I was however interested in the stange and unusual, I took up more space than most, I exist outside the social norms and that was simply unacceptable.

Now I get to undo all that and remake myself into someone I like looking at in the mirror. Trying to learn to love the face and body staring back at me. Some days that's the hardest part of existing but knowing only I can fight for myself. No one can save me from my own mind but me.

I can be open about my mental health struggles, my self doubt, my paralyzing fear of abandonment. Knowing that the anxiety within me, my dark shadow following me through life, just waiting for the smallest trigger to come along so it can scream "I TOLD YOU SO!" so loudly in my head that at times I can hear nothing else. Knowing that inner monolog of how much of a failure I am isn't going anywhere, all the voices in my head telling me that everyone would be better off without me is just my brain lying to me. Trying to trick me. But also knowing that I am trying to obtain the tools to manage it in a healthy way rather than a toxic one. I can admit that I have days where the sun physically makes me sick and I want nothing more than to not exist. But those day pass and I have days where I see beauty in thunderstorms and tranquility in darkness and joy in madness.

I can acknowledge that I am somewhere on the spectrum and things that I never understood about myself, finally make so much sense now. Finding out as an adult why loud sounds and bright lights are so overstimulating. Why crowds send me into a panic, why simple textures and smells can make me gag when others are unaffected. Knowing my fidging and restless and unfocusedness came from somewhere. Why I bust out singing the most inappropriate of things in a snappy tune just to release the nervous energy because it has nowhere else to go. Understanding that my brain simply just works differently than others.

Giving myself to grace to know that even though I fell hopelessly in love with a man, I still prefer women and that does not invalidate me. Struggling with imposter syndrome rearing it's ugly head on a near daily basis but understanding that it's just my mind playing tricks on me. Allowing myself to admit that I am demisexual and not being ashamed of it.

Pride month is about so much more than just celebrating our sexual freedom. It's about finally have a safe space to exit openly in a society that has tried it's damnedest to snuff out the whimsy of the world. Pride month is about acceptance, openness and compassion just as much as about pride. I am happy to be part of such a beautiful colorful community.

With all that being said Happy Pride month to everyone in the alphabet mafia. 🌈

If sharing this little glimpse behind the curtain helps anyone, in any way to feel even a little bit better, accepted or understood, than my job is complete. However, if you are reading this and it makes you upset or uncomfortable in any way, well you know where the unfriend button is and I encourage you to use it. 😉

#Pride #mental health #autism

[aphroditestummyrolls]

Hello hi

I am seeing a lovely man (cishet) that I really like seeing. He is kind and patient and open minded. It makes me nervous to talk about my gender with him, but he’s only made me feel better and more at ease about the whole thing.

I’m non-binary.

I really like him and want to see where this goes, but sometimes I feel like??? I’m “betraying my gender”??? Or wonder if this makes me “less” non-binary???? Am I a poser or a liar or an attention seeker??? When I talk to him, I’m telling him the truth— my non-binary-ness is in my clothes and my hair and my occasional binder and my switchy pronouns, I don’t want to make any permanent changes to my afab body. I don’t want top surgery (most of the time lol) and I don’t want to go on T. I don’t believe that a masculine-coded baseline should be necessary for androgyny, I don’t want to look like a man. I want to look like a weird goddess or cunty art project. Im not a man or a woman, I’m just some guy, and a babygirl, and neither at all.

I realise logically that only I can define my gender and if anybody ever tried to gatekeep that from me, I’d throat punch them. But… am I queer enough? Does staying in my “feminine” body and dating this cishet guy and looking to the outside world like a het couple invalidate my queerness?

Regardless, I really like him and I’m gonna take it a day at a time. If we were to stop seeing each other, it would be because he didn’t want to see me anymore— I’m invested in this. He’s wonderful.

But, the gender imposter syndrome? AH.

#gender stuff #in my little brain on my little hamster wheel #this is a ramble if you’re gonna be a dick I WILL throat punch (block) you

[weepingwitch]

man nothing makes my ego bigger than seeing the ppl in my cohort chat all commiserating about feeling nervous/imposter syndrome/scared of the work/etc. like we're just reading things and writing about them that's the easiest part none of this is actually real it's just thoughts!

reading pdf pages and having critical thoughts on them is like eating or breathing to me at this point.

what would this author say in response to this other authors argument is just like. how i fundamentally understand things and concepts

[redheadbigshoes]

Hi! I have a legit question: Do you think someone's sexual orientation can change during their lifetime?? (And just so I'm clear, I don't mean "conversion therapy" or an “off/on switch” or anything like that!)

When I was a teenager, I thought I was bi: crushed on boys, but mostly fantasized about intimacy with girls. But years later, after a head over heels/gave me stomachaches I was so nervous/I wanted to be her everything crush on a female coworker lol, I slowly came to terms with my lesbian identity. I remember feeling lots of imposter syndrome because I didn't feel I was gay since birth like so many stories I'd heard from other gays/lesbians. Bisexuality was even more frowned upon back then, and I remember really NOT wanting to be bi. But I waited for the "other shoe to drop" on crushing on a bunch of guys which, aside from a couple "comphet crushes" (a married guy who was "nice" to me, and a male coworker who paid attention to me that all the other women in the office thought was hot) never really happened. I sure started crushing hard on women though! Lol. And after a breakup with my only boyfriend, I remember craving a relationship with a woman at the time.

Now I'm older and legit feel like I can't stand the idea of being with a man. My long term partner is a woman, but even if we ever broke up, I see myself seeking only women or other sapphics. Sure, I find a few men (mostly on TV, from a specific demographic) attractive, but I don't feel anything when I see them in the wild, even the good looking ones. I'm only questioning myself after now seeing all the updated discourse on lesbianism, and want to make sure I'm properly communicating and naming my identity.

I feel like I went from “secretly bi" to "publicly identifying as straight but suppressing my physical attraction to women” to “lesbian” without looking back. It could’ve been comphet, I’m not entirely sure. Do you think it’s possible for sexual orientation to shift like this though? I think Ricky Martin said something about genuinely having loved the women he used to date, but he stands firmly in his gay identity today.... I can somewhat relate. Anyway, thanks for your thoughts!

Hi! I think 99% of the time people’s sexuality doesn’t change, what happens is that most of the time people are bisexual but their preference can change and make them think they’re either homosexual or straight. Bisexuality can be a fluid identity, a lot of bisexuals can change their gender preferences over time, but I feel like those preferences just change, not that they actually stop being attracted to a certain gender. This also goes to aro/ace people (imo), their amount of sexual/romantic attraction might change over time but they’re still in the aspec.

Also when it comes to gays and lesbians who used to identify as bi before they figured out their identity, it’s not that they once were actually bi, they just took more time to figure out their lack of attraction to the opposite gender. This also goes to the opposite situation: someone who used to identify as gay/lesbian but later started identifying as bi. I honestly think they were always bi but they just had a heavy gender preference that made them think they weren’t.

I’ve seen some people bring up a situation where there was abuse and trauma involved and that trauma made them stop being attracted to a certain gender or made them be attracted to a certain gender. I’ve never been through anything like that, and though maybe that person’s sexuality could’ve actually changed, I think what happened is that after that trauma they suppressed their feelings towards a certain gender, and maybe those suppressed feelings made them realize their attraction to another gender (that attraction was always there but never really explored).

Idk exactly what Ricky Martin said, but maybe that love for the woman he used to date isn’t sexual and romantic, there’s other kinds of love that do not involve sexuality. Maybe he just really cares about that woman and he loves her platonically, but was never sexually and romantically attracted to her.

#stephanie answers #anon #long post

[foggysirens]

Hey, about your imposter syndrome post.

As I see it, it really doesn’t matter how bad you think you are on fandom spaces, there are no consequences for being a good or bad fic writer. Just do your thing and best case scenario people will like what you wrote, worst case, people will not. Literally doesn’t matter at all, people (including you) are just having fun, if it’s not fun anymore, and it’s causing you stress, maybe looking into other hobbies can be a healthy alternative, but there is no reason why it should not be fun.

Save the imposter syndrome to your workplace or college where it can be weaponized by your mediocre male peers as the capitalist God intended lmao

hey anon!

i absolutely agree with you! fandom is something that should absolutely be fun! writing fanfiction is something that, if it’s a hobby you partake in, should be fun! i’m well aware that in the scheme of things that this is all just for fun, that fandom is for fun and fanfic isn’t all that serious. and as i said in the tags of my original post- fandom is fun for me. i get great enjoyment from blogging about my silly little shows and talking about the characters i love. but sometimes, and i think some fellow creators here will agree with me, as much as you love and enjoy doing something, putting things out there for others to see can make you feel a little anxious. can make you feel like an imposter when you see so many great works of art and fic out there- or when you see big fandom discussions and discourse that aren’t all that fun. i don’t think that means i should quit, or stop or find a new hobby- and that’s on me if my original post i made it sound that bad, like i haven’t been feeling awesome but, as i said, im still enjoying fandom. because i do agree that sometimes taking a break from fandom is for the best. it’s all for fun and yes, untimely fandom and fanfic is something you should do for yourself first.

my biggest issue is that i let my anxiety and insecurities get the best of me sometimes. even with things that are just for fun, because writing is something i care about and i get in my head. it’s my favourite hobby and sometimes when you care about something, no matter if there are any consequences or not for writing anything good like with fanfiction as you said, you’ll get nervous or anxious, because you’re still sharing something you made. worked on and put time into. and it’s easy to sometimes compare yourself to others, even in a more easy-going, fandom space, and feel a bit down on yourself. we are our own worst critics sometimes.

but thank you anon really, i didn’t mean to go off on a rant because i really do agree with you- i do. it’s good sometimes to remind ourselves to not take ourselves so seriously, especially with fandom when you can get caught up in things so easily, but it’s also a mindset that you have to grow into. work at. to just chuck your anxiety and insecurities out the door, even when logically you know they’re silly, but sometimes it’s not that easy. and that’s just brains for you. i wish i could just say fuck it like you suggested, and i hope one day i will. for now, i will, as i said, work on it and just try to remind myself to take it easy and chill.

and honestly? id rather my imposter syndrome be towards my writing ability and fics, cause ill be damned if i ever let some mediocre man make me feel that way lol

#mj.chatter #long post #anon #ask #answered

[yourcaramelfairy]

Imposter Syndrome

I typically shy away and try my best to stay out of situations where I feel like I will be uncomfortable. But then I took this new job and I knew that it would push me out of all the comfort zones. But it wasn’t supposed to be this heavy, this is a work from home job. But now, here I am, sweating through my sweats in anxious anticipation as the flight got closer and closer to Hawai’i. As I got closer to meeting my coworkers for the first time ever. After faking it til I made it. 

Now, here we are. Can I continue to fake it until I make it? Will all of my coworkers see me as the fraud that I feel like?  Why am I so scared? So anxious? So nervous? Do I not deserve to be here? Or maybe I don’t believe that I’m in the right place. 

I did a pull before I left this morning. Pulled from my goddess deck to see who I could call out to, who I could talk to when I’m not feeling myself. I got Aeracura. Goddess of blooming. And I saw it as a great sign. I saw it as a way to help guide me through my breakthrough with my coworkers. To help me get out of my bubble and blood into what I know I can be. I had hope. 

But as the plane gets closer and closer to the destination. I’m more aware of how I’m sweating through my hoodie. How I can smell myself, even though I was in denial, thinking it was the man in front of me. I’m sitting here freaking out and doing my breathing exercises to calm down. But, the tears are still stinging behind my eyes. 

I felt anxious days before this. Probably why I was so slow at finishing up packing. Because like I kept saying, this all felt so surreal. Growing up, I knew we weren’t struggling but I also knew that we were vacationing at home in Nola while my friends were taking actual trips. Me getting excited to skip school for Mardi Gras, but sinking into my seat when people talked about the places they went overseas. Loving the fact that my mom married into the military, because I’d be able to brag about being a military brat, regardless of only ever being to Louisiana, Texas or Florida. My first time further north was moving because of my stepdad. 

And I still hate conversations about where I’ve been. I judge myself because I don’t have the same experiences as any one else. And I know I know, everyone has their own experiences. But have you ever been on the receiving end of a stare from somebody who is finding out you haven’t been anywhere before. They say with great exasperation “oh, you’ve never been xyz” or you should go to xyz, like I can pick up and easily move. Have you ever been on the receiving end of a “you’ve never had a passport before?” The stares, the questions, the feeling like you are being reduced to where you’ve been and not for who you are. 

I’m so anxious and tears are stinging and I’m freaking out more and more. I’ll try my best to be strong when I get around all these people that I feel like a fraud around. I’ll try not to shrink myself down so that I won’t have to answer questions that might reveal who I am. I want to be proud, I hate not feeling proud of how far I’ve made it. I need to stop reducing my own feelings. I need to stop reducing my experiences because they don’t add up to anyone else’s. 

But it’s not like I can turn around now. Definitely can’t run away. I’ll just have to smile and continue to fake it until I make it. Work on my breathing exercises. Work on writing my feelings down as the hit. Letting myself feel but not letting it overwhelm me…but damn would I kill for something to take the edge off…at least I know that alcohol takes me out of my shell…let’s just hope I stay responsible and don’t let my secret out. 

And time slowly counts down and down and down, as we get closer and closer and closer, and my pits have turned into waterfalls…