#i love explaining it to people but it's better to just experience it
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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐔𝐬 - 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Eddie Munson x fem!reader
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Everyone is born unable to see color until they find their soulmate. You never gave much thought to it. You preferred to focus on other things, like your career. But the universe has a way of revealing its plans for you. Of course, humans have always been rather stubborn beings, and they don’t always listen to those kismet interventions.
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬: soulmate au (with a twist), modern au, angst (hurt/no comfort, the comfort comes in part 2), rejection (not from Eddie, you’ll see), artist!reader, rockstar!eddie, reader wears a skirt, reader uses she/her pronouns, background Ronance, some Cheerscops (Steve x Chrissy)
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.4k
𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
A/N: This part is more of a setup! Part two will get into Eddie and readers dynamic. This is my first full length since I’ve been back. It feels really good to be writing again. Also as requested, here are your complimentary tissues 🗳️ I hope you enjoy ♥️
There have been many myths throughout the course of human history that tried to explain the concept of soulmates. From Greece to Japan, tales have been told of two humans connected by fate. Either by soul or string, there is a profound bond that cannot be explained. Nobody really knew where soulmates came from or how they were created. You certainly didn’t.
All that was known was until you met your soulmate you wouldn’t see what they called color. You weren’t entirely sure what color was. You’d tried to understand it, you’d tried listening to people who had met their soulmate explain what it was. But their explanations never really made sense. You knew certain “colors” could be found in certain things. Like how apparently the sky was something called blue which supposedly was beautiful.
The world you knew, the world most people knew, was only in shades of black and white. Finding one’s soulmate was a rare occurrence that few had the luxury of experiencing. It was like winning the lottery, although some experts argued you had better luck with the powerball. Because of this you didn’t give your soulmate much thought. As wonderful as the idea sounded, you didn’t want to be one of those people who threw their lives away as soon as they turned 18 in pursuit of something so fantastical. After all, you didn’t need a soulmate to find love. Plenty of people had lived fulfilling lives full of love without ever meeting their soulmate.
No, you refused to get caught up in something so improbable. Instead you put your focus on your work and your friends.
Art was your calling. Most artists, unless they had found their soulmate, stuck to the monochromatic color scheme of black and white. But even though you couldn’t see the colors, you used them. Finding colored paint was not any easy task. With so few people being able to see the differing colors the market for it was almost nonexistent. But so was the audience for your paintings. The soul-matched, as they were called, seemed to flock to your work, always intrigued that as an unmatched you not only used colors, but used them for portraits of the matched.
It had started just as an experiment. Something you wanted to try for your soul-matched friends Robin and Nancy for their anniversary. Eventually word spread to the other matched, and you began creating commissions for them. It wasn’t exactly something you could make a living on with such a niche crowd but you enjoyed it, and you took other commissions in order to actually make money. But those portraits were your favorite to create.
Your best friend and roommate Chrissy was your biggest supporter. Even if she couldn’t understand how someone who wasn’t interested in finding their soulmate worked so hard for the soul-matched.
“Just think of where you could take your art if you could actually see the colors!” She said, sitting across from you at the little table you and your friends frequented at the local cafe. Your other friends Nancy and Robin were with you. Both of them were listening intently as you all enjoyed your usual brunch.
“I don’t think that’s a very good reason to try to find my soulmate. Shouldn’t I look for them for the sake of finding them?” You asked with a raised brow as you took a sip of your coffee, peering over the rim of the mug to her.
Chrissy shook her head with a slight smile, “Well…yeah. But how else am I going to convince you to try?” She retorted, making you chuckle. “Why don’t you want to at least try and find the one person you’re destined to be with?”
“How do you know its destiny?”
“Because it…because it is!” Chrissy huffed.
Ever the hopeless romantic, Chrissy had been looking for her soulmate for as long as you’d known her. She’d tell you in detail what she wanted him to be like. So much so that you wondered if Chrissy had already met him.
“Lay off her Chris,” Robin piped in. “She’s not interested. Besides, you don’t need to find your soulmate to find love. None of our parents were soulmates.”
“Sue me for wanting me and all my friends to find their perfect person!” She laughed.
“I think you can find your perfect person even if they aren’t your soulmate,” Nancy shrugged.
“Easy for you to say,” Chrissy scoffed. “You met yours!”
Robin and Nancy shared a loving glance, their hands entwining from where they laid on the table. Even if you never found your soulmate you always considered yourself lucky to know people who had. Watching Nancy and Robin fall in love had been a beautiful thing to witness. It made sense for anyone who had seen the way Nancy and Robin loved each other to want that same thing. You couldn’t blame Chrissy for craving such a thing. But that kind of love was rare.
“What about that guy you’ve been talking to?” You asked Chrissy. “What are you going to do when you meet him in person and he turns out to not be your soulmate?”
Chrissy froze, her big eyes staring at you. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat and the guilt from your words washed over you. “I’m sorry Chris I didn’t–”
“No it’s okay,” she shook her head. “You’re right. He might not be. If he isn’t I’ll…I’ll keep looking.”
You frowned at that, but didn’t say anything. For months Chrissy had been talking to and about Steve. She had “met” him through the dating app Soul Seekers, an app that claimed they could find your perfect soulmate with the help of their soulmate gurus. It always seemed like a scam to you, but you saw how happy Steve made Chrissy. Even if they hadn’t met in person. They stuck to talking on the phone and texting, never video chatting. They’d never seen each other's faces. It was by design, so that when the users of Soul Seekers met their supposed soulmates for the first time they’d get the full experience. But you worried for her. You didn’t want her to be disappointed when it turned out he wasn’t the one.
It had happened before and you wondered how many times it would happen before she gave up on love entirely.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
Eddie had never believed in any of the soulmate “bullshit.” He thought it was all made up, a fairytale that had been concocted to sell dating apps, regiments to help you attract your soulmate to you, and other various monetizations. He believed that these “colors” weren’t an indicator of fate. They were just a phenomenon that happened to some people.
They happened to him, once.
He’d traveled the country. He’d met thousands of people. Yet the one time he met someone he thought was his soulmate, she rejected him. Insisting that it couldn’t be true. Just as soon as the colors appeared they were gone, and so was she.
He tried not to think about her. He tried not to think about the colors of her. But every once in a while his mind slipped back to that place. To that bar. To that moment where his drink met her dress, their eyes locked, and suddenly the world around him changed. It only lasted for a few minutes. But those measly minutes were the most beautiful he had ever witnessed. Until it was ripped away from him.
So it had to be a lie. Otherwise the colors would have stayed. Otherwise she would have stayed.
He instead chose to focus on his music, his band. Corroded Coffin was finally starting to make a name for themselves. They were on a break from their tour for their newest album for a few months before they started their South American leg. In their downtime they stayed in Chicago. It was only a few hours away from their hometown, giving them a chance to visit their families if they wanted to without having to stay in the hellhole they deemed Hawkins to be.
As soon as they got off the plane, Jeff and Artie’s girlfriends met them both at the gate. The two girls practically lept into their arms. Eddie might have been a cynic when it came to soulmates, but seeing the way his friends lit up when they saw the people they loved most was enough to warm even his usual icy exterior. To him it was just further proof that soulmates were bullshit. Here were two of his best friends, in love and happy with two women that were perfect for them and yet there was still no color.
What truer love could there be?
“Looks like it’s just us Gare Bear,” Eddie said, slinging his arm over Gareth's shoulder.
“Speak for yourself Munson,” a deep voice spoke up from behind them. They both turned to see Gareth’s boyfriend, Paul. Pushing Eddie away, Gareth enveloped his boyfriend in a tight hug. Whispering affections to each other that Eddie couldn’t hear.
As the couples all reunited Eddie stood on the sidelines, watching their tender kisses and squeezing embraces. A front man on the stage but a bystander in life. He was the only member that wanted them to keep going. No stops before the next leg, just straight to the next thing. To the next show, to the next crowd. Forever moving. But his bandmates weren’t like that. They had put down roots in this city. They had found a home there.
Music might have been their life, but it wasn’t what kept them going.
While all the couples went to their respective homes to continue their long awaited reunions Eddie went to see his friend Steve. Having not seen his best friend in months, he was expecting to be welcomed with open arms. Maybe a celebratory beer. But then maybe he should have at least called first.
“Eddie, what are you doing here?” Steve asked when he opened the door to see the metalhead with his sunken tired eyes and a duffel bag slung over his shoulder.
“On break before the next leg,” Eddie replied as if it was obvious as he slinked past Steve into his apartment.
“Why aren’t you at your place?” Steve turned, watching as Eddie threw his bag on his couch and then went to his fridge to scavenge through it. Making himself right at home. As he always did.
“Thought I’d give Gare and Paul some alone time. I love the guy but there are just some things you don’t need to know about your bandmates,” Eddie chuckled as he started his search, looking for anything to eat or drink for his rumbling stomach. But his friend seemed to have a different taste then him, his fridge packed with fresh fruits and veggies. “Do you have any beer? Pizza?”
“Ed,” Steve sighed, exasperated. “I appreciate you stopping by and I’m really happy you’re back but you could have at least called first if you wanted to stay here.”
Eddie paused, pulling his head out the fridge and looked at his friend. “Do you want me to go?”
If there was one thing Steve knew about Eddie Munson it was that he had mastered the art of the puppy dog eyes. His big round eyes were designed for it and his mouth knew how to shape the most subtle yet perfect pout.
“No,” He relented. “You can stay.”
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
A dashing smile.
Big kind eyes.
The face of a man you’d never seen before.
He kept appearing in your dreams. You’d see him amongst a crowd of people, but before you could reach him he would be gone. At first you assumed it didn’t mean anything. But then it just kept happening.
By the third night you needed to know what it meant. Most of the sources you could find online claimed that you must have seen him at some point and you didn’t remember but your subconscious did. But then you found an article from a few years ago from someone who claimed they had seen their soulmate in their dreams before they met them. You weren’t sure whether to believe it or not. There were a lot of things online about people claiming fantastical things about their soulmates, like one person who claimed that they astral projected into their soulmates home but they could never find it, or them, afterwards. So you chose not to dwell on it. Pushing it to the back of your mind where it couldn’t pester you.
A week went by and the dreams persisted.
You kept trying the age old trick of going back to that same dream every time you woke up, but it never worked. You couldn’t get his face off your mind no matter how hard you tried. He consumed your thoughts.
Usually, when you found your thoughts to be too overwhelming you would paint. But that only led you to painting his face. Over and over again. The contours and shape of it were etched into your mind. You struggled to paint or draw any other. Every brush stroke, every scribble, led back to him. You never showed anyone these works. Especially not Chrissy. Your friends would only pester you to go out and find him. It scared you. Putting faith in the universe in this way was not something you did often. You weren’t sure if you could trust it.
One day while you were frantically scribbling another sketch of him there was a knock on your door. You quickly tried to hide it all away, tucking it under other loose papers before you went to answer it.
Your friend Jonathan smiled at you as he stood in your doorway. He gave you a confused look as he took in your disheveled appearance, hair a mess and hands and clothes covered in paint and ink from when you were working on another project before you got distracted by that pestering face.
“Did you forget about lunch?” Jonathan laughed softly. He was very used to you getting lost in your work, often leading you to forget about plans.
“No, no,” you said frantically. “We can go!” You went to grab your shoes when he stopped you by putting a gentle hand on your shoulder.
“Do you want to clean up a bit first Picasso?” He asked, gesturing to your paint splattered overalls.
“Right, right. Come in, I'll be quick.”
As you dashed to your bedroom to make yourself presentable, Jonathan meandered around the small room you had turned into your studio. You never minded when he did it before. He often enjoyed seeing what you were working on. As he looked, he spotted something peculiar. Your sketchbook was under a pile of papers. It was usually out, always available in case an idea came to your mind. Assuming you had misplaced it, he plucked it from the pile. It was open to a sketch he hadn’t seen before of a man's face and as he flipped through that same man’s face kept appearing.
You washed up quickly, scrubbing your hands clean and changing your clothes into something that looked less like you had a fight with a bucket of paint and lost. As soon as you were done you went to find Jonathan. When you saw what he had in his hands you rushed over and swiped it from his grasp.
“Who is that?” He asked, jumping at the suddenness of your actions.
“No one it’s–” You sighed, taking a seat on a nearby stool as your fingers traced the drawn jawline. “I think it’s my soulmate.”
“Your soulmate? You’ve met him? When–”
“No, no I…I dreamt of him,” You looked up from the sketch to see Jonathan's perplexed face.
“You dreamt…oh. Wow. I didn’t know that was possible,” He shook his head in disbelief, striding over to look over your shoulder at the drawing once more. “He’s handsome.”
“Yeah,” You nodded. “But I…what if I’m wrong?”
“Then you’re wrong,” he shrugged. He saw your shoulders slump at his words. “Or you’re right! Can’t be sure until you meet him.”
That was what scared you. This strange man was supposedly your perfect person. The one your soul was matched to. But what if you weren’t what he expected? Your soulmate was the person who was supposed to bring color to your life. But what if your colors were too dull for him?
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
Eddie was only supposed to stay with Steve for a day or two while Gareth and Paul became re-acquainted. But it had been a week since he showed up at his place. Eddie wasn’t sure what would have been worse, going back to his apartment and having to witness Gareth and Paul’s constant canoodling, or staying with Steve and listening to him go on and on about the girl he had met on that stupid scam of a dating app.
He was happy for his friends. He was. Ecstatic for Gareth who coming out was a challenge for, and for Steve who dreamed of meeting his soulmate. But he would be lying if he said their happiness didn’t leave a bitter taste in his mouth.
He’d tried dating after her. But no matter how hard he tried he was never able to find anyone that clicked just right. He was still searching for that feeling from when he first saw the colors. That shiver that went up his spine. That thrum in his nerves that made his hair stand to attention, the line of goosebumps that climbed up his arm.
It was the same feeling he got when he performed. That rush was something he craved. Every night for the last few months he never went without it. Being without it now, even for a week, was difficult.
Steve noticed the way Eddie seemed to mope around. Strumming aimlessly at his guitar and staring deadeyed at his phone as he watched old performances online. He needed to get out. To stretch his legs, breathe some fresh air or something.
“Hey Ed?” Steve called out to him from his bedroom.
“Yeah?” Eddie responded, voice monotone as his thumb continued to scroll.
Steve poked his head out of his room, adjusting the collar of his polo as he approached the lounging man. “You want to go out tonight? I have a date tonight with that girl I told you about, I could use some moral support.”
Eddie looked up from his phone then, looking at his friend dressed in a nice shirt and his favorite jeans with his hair purposely tousled just right.
“You’re really meeting her? Tonight?” He asked surprised.
“Yeah, I told you. Remember?”
“Right, right but…shit. Okay yeah I’ll come,” Eddie quickly got up from the couch giving Steve’s shoulder a squeeze when he went past him to freshen up in the bathroom.
It wasn’t Eddie’s ideal way to spend a night. But he had seen the way Steve had hurt when these things didn’t work out for him. He didn’t want that for him, so despite his own apprehension he agreed.
What he didn’t see was the way Steve smiled softly to himself in victory, hoping that perhaps Chrissy had a friend for Eddie. Someone who could melt his hardened heart.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
Chrissy was freaking out. Her room had succumbed to utter chaos as she practically threw all the clothes she owned onto her bed in search of the perfect outfit. You, Nancy and Robin had tried to calm her. Offering her words of gentle reassurance. But her nerves consumed her. It worried you to see her putting so much pressure on herself. Chrissy was one of the best people you knew and if Steve couldn’t see that then it was his loss, and what a loss that would be.
“Which one?” She asked, holding up two dresses. You were sure you had already seen them, but you didn’t say that.
“Left,” You, Robin and Nancy all said in sync hoping she’d just pick one and be done with it.
“I like the right one,” Jonathan piped in. The three of you quickly turned your heads to glare at him, he stuck his hands up in surrender as he mouthed an apology while Chrissy turned back to her almost empty closet.
Chrissy had invited Nancy over to help her get ready and wherever Nancy went, Robin wasn’t far behind. Then when Jonathan learned the four of you would all be at your apartment, he tagged along claiming that his buddy Argyle was busy so he had no other place to be.
But knowing Jonathan, you knew he just wanted to be included. You were happy to do so. As long as he stopped, unintentionally, foiling your plans to get Chrissy to relax.
“Chris,” Nancy said softly as she stood from where she was perched on Chrissy’s bed. She carefully made her way over to her, putting her hands on her shoulders. “Why don’t I pick something out for you?”
Chrissy sighed in defeat and nodded, sitting beside you on the bed. She laid her head on your shoulder while Nancy looked through her closet.
“He’s gonna love you,” you whispered to her. “It’s impossible not to.” The corners of her lips rose in a slight smile as she hugged you from the side. “Maybe…” She lifted her head to turn and look at you, a hopeful gleam to her eyes. “Maybe you could come with me? Be my get out of jail free card?” She suggested.
“I don’t know…”
“Steve has a friend! He’s a muscian! It can be a double date.”
“I think it’s a little last minute Chris–”
Nancy cut off the conversation as she turned to the group, holding up a sleek off the shoulder dress. “How about this?” She asked.
“That’s pretty!” You nudged Chrissy.
“Yeah…” she said hesitantly. “But will Steve like it?”
“If he doesn’t then he doesn’t have taste,” Robin replied, grabbing the dress from Nancy and tossing it to Chrissy. “Get dressed so Nance can do your hair. You’re not the only one with plans tonight.”
“That’s my cue,” Jonathan rose from the bed and left her room so she could change. “Thanks Jonny!” Chrissy called out to him as he shut the door behind him, waving at her in acknowledgment. As Chrissy dressed, Nancy gathered what she needed to do her hair. You could still feel the nerves vibrating off of Chrissy. You didn’t want her to be disappointed if Steve turned out to not be what she expected. So, being the good friend you were, you caved.
“I’ll go with you,” You sighed.
“Really?” Chrissy asked excitedly, stumbling slightly as she tried to put on a pair of heels. “I’ll text Steve!”
You hoped you wouldn’t regret it. You didn’t understand why but you had a sinking feeling in your stomach about tonight.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
The bar was crowded, the scent of beer and sweat was heavy in the air. Some cheesy love song played over the speaker, the singer droning on about losing their lover. The two men sat in a booth with Steve facing towards the entrance. His eyes were trained on it as he anxiously waited for his date's arrival.
“Excited?” Eddie said teasingly as he watched his friend's foot tap incessantly.
“What if…what if I’m not what she's expecting?” Steve looked at him, his face twisted in worry.
“Then clearly she has no taste,” Eddie stated matter of factly. “You’re a catch Stevie. If you were into dudes I’d be all over you.”
Steve laughed, his body easing slightly. Eddie smiled at having provided his friend with some comfort.
“What is this girl's name anyway?” He asked.
“I haven’t told you? It’s Chrissy.”
“Wait, Chrissy?”
The bar door opened and Steve’s head whipped in the direction of it, no longer paying any mind to Eddie or what he was saying. Chrissy entered the establishment with you in tow. The skirt Chrissy insisted you wore was tighter than you usually enjoyed and you kept adjusting it, trying to make it more comfortable. You and Chrissy scanned the bar in search of your dates when your eyes suddenly landed on a familiar face and your eyes met.
The man from your dreams was right in front of you and then…
Colors.
Colors as far as the eye could see. Everywhere. They came to the forefront of your vision like ink bleeding into paper.
He smiled widely, both in shock and joy as he waved you over, “Chrissy!” He shouted. Chrissy turned to him and quickly made her way over, embracing him in a tight hug. He looked down at her confused, then back at you for only a moment before he brought his attention back to her. You hesitantly made your way over, your eyes strained on him trying to not get distracted by just how colorful the world had become, and to not give away how it had changed.
Chrissy introduced you to Steve but you couldn’t hear a word she was saying. You felt like you were drowning, her words gargling in your ears as you looked at the man before him. The same freckles and moles you had been drawing incessantly were now within an arm's reach.
But he was looking at Chrissy.
“Your eyes are so…wow,” he breathed. Chrissy blushed, you saw the color rising in her cheeks and you couldn’t help but stare as it did.
“Thank you,” She said softly, her voice syrupy sweet as she looked up at him in adoration.
You felt like you were going to throw up.
Eddie was just as frozen as you were, staring at Chrissy. The girl that had made all the colors disappear. He always wondered if he saw her again if they would return, but they didn’t.
She met his eyes and her body stiffened as recognition swiped across her features.
“I can’t believe it’s you,” Steve was grinning so widely you thought his smile would split his face in half.
Chrissy shook her head, trying to snap herself out of it after seeing Eddie’s face again. “I know! It’s so good to finally see your face!” She responded gleefully.
“No I mean…the colors,” He gestured around them, but Chrissy only looked at him in confusion. Then his eyes widened in horror as he realized and he turned to you.
“You,” Eddie pointed at Chrissy. He didn’t want to believe it.
She was here. Right here in front of him, and she was Steve’s girl. The same girl he had been gushing over. The same girl that had brought his friend so much happiness.
Steve looked to Eddie, begging for help with his eyes to his friend. When it clicked for Eddie what was happening he returned that same look of horror.
“I-I don’t understand,” Chrissy frowned.
“The colors,” Steve said. “I-I can see them.” He stared back at you and you felt as though you couldn’t move. You couldn’t breathe.
“Colors? What–” Chrissy looked at you then, and it all snapped into place.
“Yeah the colors. You remember those don’t you Chrissy?” Eddie snapped.
“What are you–” Steve started to say but you cut him off.
“Okay everyone just…just stop for a minute please,” You pleaded. You needed to get your thoughts together. It was too much. It was all too much. The three of them all looked at you, as if you had the answers. But you didn’t. You were just as baffled as the rest of them.
“What does he mean you remember the colors?” Steve looked to Chrissy.
Her mouth opened like she was going to say something, but it closed quickly.
“Chrissy and I have met before,” Eddie explained. “Last summer in Miami–”
“Eddie please–” She begged, but he continued on.
“We saw the colors. I thought we were soulmates. But apparently I wasn’t good enough for her, and they disappeared.”
“No that’s not–” Chrissy sighed frustrated. “Yes we met. But we’re not…it was just a fluke. If it wasn't, the colors wouldn’t have disappeared!”
“What is he talking about Chris?” You turned to Chrissy, confusion and pain laced in your words. In all the time you’ve known her she never told you. She was always looking, searching, hoping, to find her soulmate. But she already had.
“Look, remember when I visited my aunt in Miami? Well I met Eddie there and I thought he was it. But it didn’t…it didn’t feel right. Your soulmate is supposed to be your perfect person and he’s not—“ she cut herself off for a moment and as you glanced at Eddie you saw the pain in his eyes as she spoke. “—and then the colors went away so I knew that it wasn’t true.”
As the words left her mouth all Eddie heard was that he wasn’t good enough. He wasn’t right. He was too imperfect. Too loud. Too brash. Too opinionated. Too weird. Too much and simultaneously not enough.
Steve looked at you then, “Do you see them?” He asked. You could only nod, not able to meet your best friend's eyes any more.
Chrissy’s face twisted in hurt as she looked between you and Steve. Her best friend and the man she had fallen for. Soulmates.
“Hurts, doesn’t it?” Eddie asked Chrissy, his voice laced with disdain for her.
“Shut up Eddie!” Steve snarled. He turned back to Chrissy and took her hands in his. “Look I…I don’t care,” he began, his face softening as he looked down at the woman before him. “I don’t care if I don’t see the colors with you. These last few months I…I fell in love with you. I love you. I don’t care what the stupid universe says, I want you.”
They kissed, and it burned you. Like a fire poker straight out of the flames, stabbing through your chest, piercing your very soul. All those years of not even entertaining the idea of finding your soulmate and yet you did, only for him to choose someone else. It was unheard of. Nobody who actually found their soulmates rejected them...right?
You didn’t even know Steve. But having your worst fear come true right before your eyes made your heart snap in two.
Your colors weren’t bright enough for him after all.
You couldn’t stay there. You couldn’t watch them together. So you ran. Chrissy called your name, but you didn’t hear her.
Steve turned to Eddie only to meet his friends stare, icy and cold. “Eddie–” he started to say. But he didn’t want to hear it. So he turned on his heel and left.
Eddie didn’t go home. He wasn’t sure where he could go. Steve’s place was out of the question and the last thing he needed was to be around the lovebirds Gareth and Paul. Instead, he found another bar. He sat in the corner, alone, and drank away. Getting lost in the bottle in hopes of forgetting her face, Steve’s face and even yours.
The pain in it reflected his own and he wanted to erase the memory of it from his mind. He wanted to eradicate all memory of the colors, of that feeling, of the time he believed in soulmates and sought his own out. He was young and naive then. He’d never make that mistake again.
By the morning he would call his manager and ask him to cut the break short. He’d be back on the road and out of this city. Far away from the messy disaster it had all become. Far away from all talk of soulmates and fate and colors. He’d disappear into the music for a few more months.
Only this time he hoped he could stay gone. For good.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
You had walked for a block with your arms hugged around yourself. Not sure of where you could go, you sat on the curb. Cars whizzed by you, but you paid them no mind as tears poured from your eyes. The pavement was cold and scratchy under your thighs as you hid your face in your hands and cried.
He didn’t want you. You should have expected it. He wasn’t yours, he was Chrissy’s. You didn’t even know him.
So then why did it burn?
As you lifted your head up from your hands and wiped your tears you looked around at the bright night of the city before you. The colors were gone. Just as quickly as they had appeared they were gone again, and your sobs filled the silence of the night.
𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈𝐈 →
Thank you for reading! I hope I can keep this writing momentum going. Reblogs and comments are appreciated and cherished! ♥️
Special thanks to my Nibs @paybacksawitch for beta reading this for me, ily thank you for always being so supportive and talking me down whenever I get too in my head about things.
I do not give permission to have my work copied, translated, reposted on any platform, or put into any AI programs.
Dividers by yours truly
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Hi taglists!! I missed you guys 🥹
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More spoilers for EarthSpark.
Okay. Let's talk about the Chaos Terrans.
The Good
Spitfire was the only one of the two I'd seen before watching the new episodes, so I was really worried that all of the Chaos Terrains would just be Dark Versions of the existing cast. It was a relief to meet Aftermath pretty much immediately and realize not all of them are recolors.
Nice of them to explain why the Chaos Terrans were different from the regular ones.
Honestly, the bodyswapping episode might be my favorite of the batch. Which is a bit like choosing the best of the worst, but I honestly kind of like the trope, and I appreciate that it wasn't played for comedy at all. I also really appreciate that they kept the VAs matched with the bodies instead of the characters, because one of my least favorite things about bodyswap stories is when characters keep their own voices. The VAs also did a really good job of playing each other's characters, even if the dialogue itself was painful at times.
Aftermath immediately adopting Spitfire as his sister was cute.
I liked Spitfire initially. She was a bit young to be so apathetic (girl, you've been alive for five minutes, where's your joie de vivre?), but compared to Aftermath just wanting to destroy stuff, it was a relief that not all of the Chaos Terrans were going to be like that.
The Bad
The moment Twitch got chosen to go on a mission, I knew Spitfire was going to be jealous and that was going to define her character from then on. And then she started going on about being superior to Twitch, and yup. Just a standard Dark Version with a superiority complex. Again, you have been alive for five minutes, you shouldn't even have a frame of reference to understand superlatives yet.
On that note, love how the Chaos Terrans just pop into existence and know things instantly. And can scan an altmode and transform within seconds of coming online, while the regular Terrans took days, weeks, or months to even figure out what they wanted to be. Glad we're chucking the worldbuilding in the trash along with the characterization.
Seriously, though, what is it about the Chaos Terrans that makes them just understand everything the moment they come alive? I can accept it from shows like G1 where new bots were built and programmed, but the Terrans are birthed spontaneously and have no knowledge whatsoever. I could kind of overlook how quickly the triplets went from zero to sixty because the plot needed them to catch on fast, but these kids just start at sixty. I hate it when characters with literally two seconds' worth of experience are just instantly able to hold conversations about things they've never even heard of.
Why, exactly, did Spitfire have to scan the drone? Even if she was too heavy for Twitch to carry, Twitch could have just caught her and slowed their fall enough to land safely. They had plenty of time. This entire "I'm you but better" thing was completely avoidable (unless Spitfire chose to scan the drone afterward, but at least then Twitch wouldn't have brought the misery on herself).
How did the cast manage to go a year collecting shards before a Chaos Terran happened? If high velocity and water are all it takes, how did none of the shards land in bodies of water immediately after the Emberstone was originally shattered? How did most of them not end up in the ocean? These things should have done like Lilo and Stitch and spawned aliens everywhere.
The Ugly
Wow. We're really doing the Evil From Birth thing, aren't we. Really doing the "they can't be redeemed because they were born bad" thing, huh. Congratulations, that might be the single most irresponsible message you can put in children's media. Nothing says "some people are born different and that's not okay" like making a pair of literal children irredeemable because of the circumstances of their birth.
I hate the fact that I knew Aftermath was going to die almost as soon as he was born. I mean, the shard was in his spark, there was no way anyone was fixing the Emberstone without removing it somehow. Same with Spitfire. Yeah, let's not only make them evil from birth, let's kill them because of the thing that made them different. Let's doom them from birth to have their organs harvested. Forget the mutated creatures, psychological violations, and all the other horrors going on in EarthSpark, this might be the darkest thing that's happened in this series. Y'know, that and the pair of them being slaughtered onscreen.
What was the point in them even existing. What lasting impact did they leave on the series, apart from being Starscream's moral event horizon. Unless the writing gets way better in the next batch of episodes, no one is going to miss them. No one came away meaningfully changed from having known them. And of course, the Emberstone is dust now, so their deaths didn't even matter ten minutes later. They died for nothing, and I would be surprised if they even come up again outside of condemning Starscream for his actions.
I didn't even like the Chaos Terrans as characters, and I feel so bad for them.
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Existing as an autistic person trying to communicate with neurotypical people is an exhausting experience.
The idea that what is said isn't what is meant is utterly exhausting. That idea has been harped over and over into every autistic persons experience. You're constantly looking for the meaning in what people say. Cause with neurotypical people, it's never JUST what they say. They could ask you to clean the kitchen, and you're expected to know that that means sweeping the downstairs as well.
Something less talked about, though, is how people apply that to you. You say something, and it's assumed that you MUST be implying something else. You mention you're hungry? You MUST be asking for food. You could ask a neurotypical person a question and they'd answer a completely different one.
"What time are we leaving?"
"Oh, the event is at six"
They will respond to what is perceived, and no amount of repeating the fact that you don't have alternate meanings will change the fact.
They perceive rudeness this way as well. Because not only do they expect you to notice when they're upset- and they don't even tell you, they hint and expect you to get it- they'll be upset about the meaning they interpreted from what you said. You could say something about loving cats, and from that they would assume you said that you hated dogs.
That barrier is hard enough to get over. Because trying to explain the concept that you mean what you say, and nothing more, seems foreign to neurotypical people. Because what they say has 50 different meanings, and they want you to understand and react appropriately to them all.
And EVEN IF you manage to get past that barrier; there's tone to contend with. This one is an absolute beast. Because you could say all the right things. You could say everything politely, with all the correct hidden meanings and body cues. But if you don't use the right intonation in your voice, it's still a disaster.
You could say "yes, I'd love to help you." And it could be considered rude because of the inflection.
And what is a person supposed to do about that? I practice my voice, how I'm supposed to ask questions and interact. I did that for HOURS each day when I was younger, practicing for interactions.
It never worked. I am still, unfortunately, extremely tone deaf. Deaf deaf too, but I especially can't tell tone. Both when I use it, or when someone else uses it. It's caused me to be in bad situations, patronized and made a pity party because I was autistic. But it's also caused me to offend people, by not using the right words or inflection. And still, practice doesn't help. I'm not better at it. A tone that works one sentence might be seen as condescending the next.
And how is one meant to fix that?
Autistic people can work as hard as they like. They can work their whole life trying to approximate a neurotypical person. And they'll still be off. They'll still be just not human enough to be normal.
I wish I was human enough.
#actually autistic#autistic things#autistic experiences#autism#autistic spectrum#neurodivergent#neurotypical#sub human#this shouldn't be a shared autistic experience
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Just wanted to hear other people opinion about what they thought of the new storyline for wuwa.
(If you are unfamiliar with the old/cbt1 storyline drama here's a reddit post that explains the whole thing: https://www.reddit.com/r/WutheringWaves/s/YBEuZ7jhC5)
Long story short I have been hearing people saying they prefer the old storyline when in reality the old story wasn't perfect. Sure it had good moments but it doesn't make up the fact the Rover was still being disrespected even after all the quests they have done for the people.
Considering the fact that Kuro games had 6 months to rework the whole story before their release date it make sense why the story is rushed both in the main story and Yinlin story. There were things that felt like they could've explained better and revise here and there but there were moments where I didn't enjoy the mainstream (Scar, Jiyan and the Battle of Jinzhou were my favorite parts).
My biggest issue about this whole conversation is that people keep bringing up Genshin and HSR storyline. Now there is nothing against these two stories as they are quite in their own way but what I hate about this comparison is that Hoyoverse has a total of 8 games (one of them being a dating sim) so they have alot of experience in making lore meanwhile Kuro Games only has a total of 3 games. This is unfair comparison if you ask me.
Another issue that I have is that most of the lore that Genshin and HSR that you want to know about isn't main story but from the side quests. These sides are so long and info dumping that many players just skip through everything or don't play the quest (Aranana quest is a prime example)
Now I don't know how true this is but as of right now Kuro Games are still working on all the bugs and issues that players are facing but they are still hiring writers to help with the story. If this is true we might have to wait for awhile for the story to be more clearer and better.
But that just my opinion I love the game I think the story could use some work but the game just got released two weeks ago so it hard to decide what will happen next and how the story goes.
i dont have anything to add bc i share the same thoughts as you. the story is a little weak but all the things considered you just mentioned, i have patience and hopes it gets better (since some ppl just looooove comparing hoyo and kuro; gnshn wasnt perfect either, inazuma was a mess before they had better writing for sumeru and i dont even wanna start with what the fuck ever was the luofu story but they COOKED w penacony and belobog). some sections like scar and the final battle was pretty cool
anw im tired of ppl comparing gnshn/hsr w wuwa too thats why i just dont bother reading those comments or replying
#i had smth to say abt my worries for future wuwa stuff but i feel like its a different topic so i deleted it off#reply#long post
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As a writer and a romantic, I am surrounded by love. Whether I read poetry, write my own, or read my romance novels, I can’t escape falling in love. I spent most of my teenage and young adult years believing I would only ever experience love vicariously through my friends or the media I consumed. I never knew I was worthy of love or attention. I wrote about it, read about it, witnessed it, and yet still felt like I would never be able to experience it. I hated this. For years, I lived on the sidelines, envious of everyone around me. I loved love, and I still do. But I hated never being able to experience any of it for myself. The soft glances or the smiles only the two of you understood. Then, I met him.
Every writer always talks about “the first meeting.” What they felt when the love of their life first entered their lives. Maybe the world went quiet, or perhaps they locked eyes, and their heart stopped. I’ve known of him for a long time before I officially met him. I figured we’d cross paths every couple of months, maybe have a conversation here and there about what’s going on in our lives. Nothing more but a friend in passing. My heart was intrigued while my brain did everything possible to undermine how much I wanted to get to know him. I could sit and write for hours the thoughts that entered my brain when I knew I’d have to see him, the random nerves I could never quite explain. I hoped every time I saw him, the meeting would go better than the last. I won’t be so nervous this time, or I’ll make him laugh with a quick joke. My insecurities got the best of me for a while, and I realized I wouldn’t see him for a while, so what’s the point of trying? But something in me refused to let this one go.
I knew I fell in love with him because being with him never felt forced. I didn’t have to pretend to be someone I wasn’t from the first time we ever hung out on our own. The moment he smiled at me; it was like an unspoken way of telling me that he was someone I could be safe with no matter what relationship we would ever hold in the future. I knew I fell in love with him because his arms around me felt like another extension of me instead of something suffocating, when hugging him felt like going home. When he laughs, I get angry at the world for depriving me of that laugh for years. When he speaks to me about his interests, I would choose to listen to him for hours over my favorite songs. When he looks at me, I don’t just feel like I am loved. I feel like I am the definition of love.
My whole life, I was told that hating me was easy while loving me was difficult. Because of that, I thought everyone was hard to love. People have their flaws; I know I have many. They can be mean, selfish, and complicated. Everyone complaining to me about their boyfriends made it seem like loving them was a chore. But loving him feels easier than breathing. They say when a writer falls in love with you, you can never die. Whether I get to have him forever or for a moment, may my love for him be immortalized anyway.
#writing#excerpts from my writing#writers of tumblr#journal excerpt#writings#quotes#literature#dark academia#dark acadamia aesthetic#love#love quotes#writers block#writers#writers on tumblr#writersoftumblr#scriptwriting#my wrtitng#writeblr#writers and poets#writerscommunity
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After you told Kakashi exactly what you were thinking of him, you still expect nothing to change with his behavior.
But for once, the man listened.
Catching up faster with the chapters than intended, so here is the next one.
Thank you for all the comments on the last chapter, it really makes my day to see that people still follow this fic despite the long break ^^
Hopefully you guys can have some fun with this chapter as well :D
~ X ~
“Kakashi, could we speak for a moment?”
From experience, he already knew this wouldn’t be good. Kushina had that special look on her face: eyebrows pinched together, a forced smile on her lips, and one of her hands was balled into a fist, ready to gently bonk him on the head and remind him that no matter how much taller he was than his stepmom, her disappointment in him would always hurt more than the little contact of her knuckles against his body. And he also knew that the only reason Kushina restrained herself from instantly giving him a lecture was the fact that they were still in the middle of the open office, with everyone working around them.
Well, not everyone. Automatically, Kakashi looked over to her desk. No one was there, personal belongings had vanished as well. The bad feeling deep down in his guts worsened. Did she call out for today?
He nodded at Kushina, only to look back at the desk. That one desk he always tried to keep in his peripheral vision whenever he entered the office. No one there, still. Of course not, but…
“Kakashi. Now.”
He hadn’t noticed how Kushina walked ahead of him, towards her office. Too captured in wondering where you went. But, measured by the anger radiating from his adoptive mother, he would find out soon enough. He followed slowly, throwing more tentative glances towards the empty desk as he did so.
“What the fuck,” Kushina hissed as soon as the door of her office closed behind Kakashi, “did you do now?”
“Nothing.” Albeit true, the truth still burned like acid in the back of his truth. “What happened?”
“Your coworker came in and wanted to take some personal time off. She looked like she cried her eyes out”, Kushina said, eyes hard and the lines around her face as sharp as a knife. She gestured towards the chair in front of her desk. He followed the silent command, knowing that resisting any further would only lead to a bigger “talk”. The woman didn’t sit, but stood with crossed arms behind her desk, torching his very skin with her eyes. “So, again, and better be honest right now: what have you done, Kakashi Sakumo Hatake?”
For a very short, dangerous moment, Kakashi considered just keeping his mouth shut. What would Kushina do; throw him out?
But then his mind cleared. Yes, Kushina wouldn’t throw him out, but take the appropriate steps on the road of being thrown out. An official reprimand could be very possible, after all the other times he objectively caused trouble to the day-to-day operations, and especially after the last few weeks. The dinner had been his last chance to get off scot-free, and he thought he managed. But he…
I fucking forgot.
“I…” He started, only to pause. This was harder than he imagined it to be. Admitting how much he actually fucked up. “I know the entire point of the dinner was to explain and apologize to her for my… immature and quite frankly, despicable behavior-!”
“No sweet-talking your way out of this one.”
“Okay.” A short nod, then he pressed forward, all the while his fingers wrung themselves into the hems of his sweater. “I may have… forgotten to do one of the two things.”
Kushina sighed; a long and heavy one which made Kakashi wish he would have not said anything at all.
“Kakashi… This is above anything else you have done so far.”
“It wasn’t deliberate!”
“That doesn’t matter. You…” His mother shook her head, a few red strands which had escaped her high ponytail wiping around her head. “No matter what happened today, I have to write you up. It’s more than well deserved at this point.”
Kakashi’s stomach sank. That really had to be expected. “Okay.”
“That makes now two write-ups…”
“Wait, two?”
“Yes, you had one lying around from an incident a few years back with Anko.”
“But she said she would try to retract it?”
“Well, apparently she didn’t,” Kushina clapped her hands together, “and I, for one, am really happy that she didn’t. Two write-ups equal to a mandatory training course in office communication. You know the drill.”
With a low sigh, he waved it off. “And what else?”
“If you don’t know what else you are supposed to do to make things right between the two of you,” Kushina shook her head, the disappointment so clear on her face that it hurt even looking at her, “then I have failed you as a parental figure.”
~ X ~
It should have been a telltale sign to just stay at home when you entered the office and the first thing you saw was Anko leaning against your desk. She was obviously waiting for you, her usual trench coat hanging loosely around her frame and arms crossed over her chest.
“Morning.” Without another word, you pushed past her, around the corner of your desk, only to drop your stuff onto the table. Quickly, your eyes flitted over the surface, as it was now second nature to you.
No note. Another sign that staying home would have been a great idea.
“So…” Anko didn’t look at you, as her eyes were scanning the area around, sharp and attentive to every little detail. “Who needs to be beat up?”
“No one.”
“Bullshit. Doesn’t matter anyway. It has to be Hatake.” Only now, the other woman pulled out her usual resting bitch face. Honestly, Anko was one of the people who could look meaner than anyone without even trying. “Just give me a hint, and he’s done for. High time he gets a bit of a beat down.”
“Oh, really?” You clicked your tongue. “Unfortunately, as tempting that might be, casual violence in the office might be bad for me. And for yourself, of course.”
“Some things are worth the consequences.” Anko smiled; a promising yet dark grin, with way too many teeth showing. “Besides, Hatake also bullied me a bit when I joined, but I made clear to him that he’s out of his league if he keeps that up.”
“Do I want to know?”
The other woman thought for a moment. “Probably not. I also kind of signed something to not talk about it in detail.”
“This makes it much worse, honestly.”
“Oh, not for me.” Anko grinned another feral grin, smug like the cheshire chat. “For the brat.”
“The term “brat” certainly fits him,” you mumbled more to yourself, before grabbing your planner and a pen. “But as I said, he doesn’t need to be beat up. Thanks for the offer, though.”
“Anytime.”
According to the weekly planner in your hands, another weekly meeting for the entire floor with Minato was about to happen. At the thought of sitting yet again in a room with Kakashi and knowing that he knew he finally broke through your shell was torture, but you were an adult. An adult had to face their problems, no matter how much one wanted to run back home, crawl back into their bed and rewatch some childhood cartoons for comfort.
It will be fine. After today, after meeting Kakashi again and having to look into his face, it will be alright that you ripped him a new one. He will never speak about it, I will surely not ask him about it, and we can stay silent about this ordeal — like adults do.
Another deep breath in, with your planner clutched into your hands, then you pushed the door open, with a fake smile plastered onto your face.
Your eyes scanned the conference room, jumping from seat to seat. Once, twice around the table, but there was no silvery mop of hair in sight. Was Kakashi not present today? Maybe he was out sick? Or meeting another client?
“Move.” Anko whispered harshly, before pushing past you. Damn, you had blocked the door and didn’t notice how long you actually scanned the room for Kakashi’s presence. Quickly, you followed the woman, sinking into a chair by her side, all the while trying not to be too anxious about the door opening more and more. Every time, you tried not to look like a deer looking into the headlights of a rapidly approaching car, and you had the distinct notion you failed, measured at Anko’s stifled snorting at every single one of your reactions.
“Relax,” she leaned over when the door opened for the fifth time, spitting Gai into the room, “if Hatake isn’t here already and didn’t enter with Gai, then the chances of him coming into the meeting sink into the Mariana trench.”
“Are you sure?”
“At least 99% sure. And for the 1% off-chance…”
“You put one less spoon of coffee into your cup. I swear, whenever you make the pot for our lunches, the coffee smells like it could peel the tapestry right off the walls.” A weak smile crossed your face at Anko’s grumbled explanations that she needed her coffee that strong.
The door opened again, and again, your eyes flittered over to check on the newcomer. It was Minato, folders under his arm and looking as busy as ever. As you watched your boss get settled, your entire body relaxed, little by little, nerve by nerve. Maybe that meant Kakashi wouldn’t come in today. That would be a gift from the heavens, to not have to face him just one day after the… incident.
“So…” Minato coughed weakly, capturing everyone’s attention easily. “Let’s start with our meeting. I know we’re a bit ahead of time, but I have a scheduled phone call right after this meeting, so it would be beneficial to keep everything short and concise today. I see you, Gai, and yes, I have the potential gym memberships as work benefits still in the back of my mind. No need to worry there.”
As Minato droned on about technical details, your mind started to drift off. In your current project, you weren’t the lead, not even the second lead. So, you could space out a little bit, jotting down haphazardly, unreadable notes and nod absent-mindedly when the others nodded as well.
As your mind wandered, your thoughts inevitably turned to the notes on your desk. Since the entire fiasco with Kakashi started, you barely had time to breathe. Trying to find out who the note writer was who left you such thoughtful scribbles on your desk had been totally out of the question.
Who could it be?
I already crossed out Kakashi due to his handwriting, which doesn’t match with the handwriting in the notes.
I’m going ahead and also crossing out all the people who I know are in committed relationships.
Automatically, your hand with the pen started to write. Letters formed on an empty page of your planner, first slowly, but growing more and more determined.
Minato. Kakashi. Iruka. Asuma. Gai. Genma. Anko. Shizune. Kurenai. Kushina. A complete list of people you were working with on the marketing team. Quickly, you scratched out Minato, Kakashi, Kurenai and Kushina. Minato and Kushina for obvious reasons, and Asuma and Kurenai were obviously smitten with each other, no matter how hard they tried to deny that. And Kakashi’s handwriting didn’t match the notes, so he was also off the table. Which left you still with quite a sizable list of possible secret… note writers.
Thinking of them as secret admirers is… weird.
The door opened once again, and you jolted up, violently ripped out of your thoughts. Your eyes widened as you saw Kakashi walking in, without his usual nonchalance, but carrying two large boxes stacked on top of each other with an annoying sense of elegance around him.
“Sorry for being late,” he dropped the two unremarkable white boxes onto the table, “I had to take a detour because of a black cat crossing my way.”
“Sure.” Minato raised an eyebrow at the boxes. “A birthday I forgot?”
“No, just high time I’m doing something like this.” When Kakashi spoke, his eyes flew over to you, and you found yourself transfixed. Just a mere moment, not longer than the time it took to blink, and yet, this dumbass of a man had you shaking in your chair with anxiety. What did he plan now to humiliate you?
Instead of explaining things, Kakashi opened one of the boxes. Beside you, Anko leaned in to peer over the rim, but subconsciously, you were leaning backwards as if the man just opened the lid to a basket filled to the brim with snakes.
Though, the smell of bread, freshly cut vegetables and fried meat reached your nose instead. The other people in the meeting started to cheer, obviously enjoying the fact that Kakashi got them some free food, but you were merely puzzled.
“I got everyone something to eat,” the man said, arms crossing over his chest and slouching forward, “and I also brewed some fresh coffee for everyone already. It’s in the break room.”
Minato asked the one question which burned on your very soul. “Alright. What kind of spirit possessed you to do this?”
“I…” The man paused, his eyes flickering downwards. “I realized that I have been a terrible colleague so far, to several people in the office.”
“And that has nothing to do with that…” Minato ended the sentence right there, but Kakashi nodded.
“The communication seminar I have to attend is due to my actions. Yes, partly. But mostly because,” he breathed loudly in, “Because my behavior caused something I’m not proud of. So, I want to sincerely apologize. To everyone, of course, but especially to a colleague I treated more than unfairly during the last weeks.”
Again, his eyes found yours. Every muscle in your body went tense, anticipating and yet dreading the next words out of his mouth. But he didn’t talk to you directly, half-smiling which showed an adorable dimple on his cheek, but turned quickly to the others. “I’m asking not only for forgiveness, but for your willingness to work with me while I better myself. I can’t promise anything, but I’m ready to go forward. This,” he gestured towards the breakfast-spread, “is just a small show of my gratitude for bearing with me for so long.”
The dull cheer of the other present people echoed in your ears. You blinked in quiet confusion, trying to not lose your mind.
Kakashi, apologizing publicly. Kakashi, bringing breakfast for everyone in the office to make up for his assholery. Kakashi, looking at you with those dark, dumb, pleading eyes, as if he was trying to convey something.
What does he want?
Obviously, as Minato also still had to take his business call, the seriousness of the meeting quickly dissipated. The others quickly indulged themselves in the breakfast, grouping up to snack away and some even walking up to Kakashi to talk with him. Thankfully, no one noticed that you stood up, grabbed your notebook and left the room. Not even Anko, but she was too busy eating her unexpected sandwich than to notice. You couldn’t blame her, they smelled delicious. But you just wanted — no, needed — a few quiet moments to collect your scrambled thoughts.
The floor with all its running PCs but no humans around had a bit of an eerie feel. Yet, the silence was exactly what you wanted. Gently, you placed down your notebook on your desk, eyes scanning across the surface for a by now more than welcomed bright-yellow note. But nothing; no little pick-me-up or cheerful comment about the day which would distract you from the adult-task of having to possibly change your opinion about Kakashi Hatake.
No, I don’t have to change anything.
He apologized in front of the entire office.
And? He didn’t specify anything, didn’t clarify. He could have made this entire show just to appease me.
Why couldn’t you just worry about the identity of your secretive notewriter? Instead, you had this absolute trash fire on your hands, constantly having to worry if you were going to be fired because of badly hidden nepotism or if Kakashi wanted to bully you out of the office for good.
You sighed weakly, only to shake your head. Again, no time to worry about this. You had to start work, and maybe, maybe, you could worry about Kakashi a bit more in the evening, when you were back home. First off, though, you would take a little bit of an advantage of a free coffee pot as well as an unoccupied kitchen.
Like Kakashi promised: when you entered the break room, the rich scent of freshly brewed coffee greeted you. But not only that, he had also prepared a kettle. The metal of the kettle was still hot as you touched it, nearly singing your fingertips off.
And just as you inspected the damage, the gentle rap of knuckles against the wooden door frame made you look up. There was Kakashi, like he popped out of a dark corner of your mind to haunt you. In his dark-emerald-green pullover and black jeans, he looked as casual and comfy as always, and as he leaned there, his unruly hair fell into his face like he came straight out of a shampoo commercial.
How unfair. Why does an asshat like him have hair like that?
But even your thoughts weren’t as frustrated and angry with him as before, as in the last days, as yesterday. Like you couldn’t bring up the energy anymore to hate him properly. With a weary sigh, you leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed over your chest and trying very hard to look into his eyes without flinching.
“So…”
“So, yeah.” Kakashi shrugged weakly as he leaned casually against the frame of the door. “I’m owing you a private apology.”
“Great. Get started, then.”
“Ouch. But I deserve that one, no questions asked. What you didn’t deserve, though, was my attitude towards you.” There was no small glint in his eyes, no laughter on his face. Just honest sincerity, and you had no idea what to do with it. So, with your face like stone, you just listened to him.
“I apologize for how I treated you. I acted like a child for no reason at all. You deserved better than that, and still deserve more. I can only hope you will forgive me one day, and even then, you’re not obligated to do anything.” One of his hands came up to scrub through his hair, only to burrow itself back into the pockets of his pullover. “I’m sorry for being an absolute asshole in the first place, for treating you like an intern. I’m sorry for being overall an antisocial asshole. And I’m sorry for not giving you this apology when you actually needed to hear it.”
Finally. After all the weeks of worrying, of being angry, and tired of having to worry, you finally had a real, honest, sincere apology. One which sounded like Kakashi actually meant it. Slowly, you nodded, paused, then nodded again.
“Yeah”, you said, “that’s… that’s great to hear. Thank you.”
“Do you still want to work together on the Akatsuki-Project?”
“Of course.”
“Good.” Kakashi straightened himself out. “If my behavior bothers you again, please instantly go to Minato and Kushina and write a complaint. Do not come to me to ask me to stop, just go to them directly.”
“Never had anything else in mind.”
“... Good. That’s… good.” Though, you couldn’t help but believe that Kakashi hoped for just another answer. Too bad. He wouldn’t get another one, not on this particular matter.
After a long moment, Kakashi nodded again. “Alright. Anyway, sorry for keeping you here.”
“Well, it was kind of worth it. To finally get an apology, at least.”
“So…” He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets, shoulders drawn up and peeking through the strands of his unruly hair. “Anything going on today?”
You paused. What kind of question was that? Were there any deeper intentions hidden within those words which you couldn’t decipher? Or was he mocking you, thinking that now as he apologized already, he was off the hook for any wrongdoings on his part? Or, last but not least, were you overthinking yet again and trying to find a fault where there was none present?
“You know…” you breathed in, “just work. Nothing else, pretty much.”
“Oh. Okay, okay. Sorry, that was a stupid question.”
“Don’t apologize too much, it’s going to wear out at some point.”
“I don’t know about that one. Anyway, good luck today. If there’s anything you need me for, you know where to find me.”
Again, you nodded. Slowly, deliberately, and still trying to gauge if Kakashi was serious or not. You just couldn’t really grasp the man and his character, if he was serious or more of a jokester. Maybe something in between, with a bit of social awkwardness.
Nevertheless, it was hopefully now over — for good, this time. Maybe, you could now focus on your work, on trying to prove yourself, and potentially even on finding out who wrote the little notes and left them on your desk.
~ X ~
Kakashi was in the middle of staring at the still empty page of his notebook, all the while twirling a pen between his fingers, when Minato walked up to his desk. The man waited for a second, drilling holes into Kakashi’s soul, only to rap his knuckles ever so gently against the wooden surface.
“Knock, knock.”
“Who’s there?”
“Your boss.” But Kakashi knew the tone Minato had swinging in his voice: all soft and mushy and unbearably proud. No, that wasn’t his boss talking with him, but his step-father. Only after a look around, he dropped the small book onto the table and gave Minato his entire focus. “What’s up?”
“I had a talk with Kushina yesterday. About what… she talked to you about.”
“Yeah. I figured that much.”
“I honestly didn’t know if you would do something about it.”
“As I just proved, I can do something about it, and I can do it properly.”
“I didn’t question your commitment, just your… awareness.”
That was probably the kindest possible reminder to not overdo it that Kakashi ever received from Minato. Kakashi sighed, but fell silent. Even when his boss was also his adopted father, he himself always had asked to never be treated differently to his colleagues, and now he paid the rightful price for declining just a little bit of nepotism.
“Nevertheless, I’m glad you managed to find a way to rectify the situation, for everyone involved. Very smart move to bring breakfast for everyone.”
“I learned from the best.”
Minato smiled a thin, weary smile, nothing more than a quick uptilt of his mouth. “Don’t overdo it. Still, I’m glad. Now, keep up the good work, I’m expecting big things from the Akatsuki campaign.”
And that, Kakashi pondered, was the biggest problem. Expectations. The expectations Minato had in him, the expectations everyone else had in him, the expectation Kakashi himself had in his work and skills and creativity, were the problem. What to do when he would fail all the expectations?
Minato had long left the desk when Kakashi wrote in big, fat letters the word “expectations” into his notebook. Another twirl of the pencil around his fingers, and he went to work. Sometimes, one had to force oneself just a little bit to get some results.
#kakashi hatake#kakashi#hatake kakashi#kakashi sensei#reader insert#reader#self insert#historicfailure#freakypseudwriter#naruto fandom#kakashi x reader#kakashi x self insert#kakashi x reader insert#kakashi hatake x reader#kakashi hatake x self insert#kakashi hatake x reader insert#kakashi x you#kakashi hatake x you#hatake kakashi x reader#hatake kakashi x self insert#hatake kakashi x reader insert#hatake kakashi x you#naruto fanfic#kakashi fanfic#modern au#office au (kind of)#also on ao3
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zolu is maybe one of the easiest ships i've ever liked. they're dating, except when they're not, they're best friends even when they're kissing and they're still captain and first mate when they aren't. they hold hands, they hug. they have sex. they don't.
Luffy can hold Zoro's katanas and Zoro can hold Luffy's strawhat and no one bats an eye. one says "You're so cool!" and the other says "You're strong" and it's just another way to say "I see you, this is why I follow you/this is why I trust you". it's not seeing each other for a long time and still knowing how the other's steps sound like against wood and sand. the captain runs and the first mate follows. it's always "Zoro and the others" and "Where's Luffy?"
if they're just friends, if they're something more, if they don't have a label for it, at its core, it's just about how they get each other. they understand how the other's mind works. however you view them, it doesn't erase they fact that they love each other in a way they don't love other people.
#zolu#on why i love zolu#seeing the hate its gotten on its own tag#i figured i'd put it on my two cents#i am aroace and i do hc Luffy as aroace#the same for Zoro if i'm honest#but the thing about this hc is that not only it isn't canon#but is an actual spectrum#what really made me pause was that the argument was that zolu was an “icky” ship bc of how they viewed Luffy as aroace#i would have prefered they just said they hate the ship#it makes sense as i do too hate ships without reason sometimes#but it was how they seemed to view aromatic/asexual people that fucked me up#both orientations are spectrums#the way i see it and experience it isn't the same other people do#giving this label and then saying it only woks on one way is disrespectful to the many people that fall under this umbrella#it isn't as simple as saying “aromantic folks can't experience love” and “yeah ace folks all find sex disgusting”#everyone is different everyone has different views and it's about finding what fits *you* personally!#sorry for the rant on tags i just wanted to get it off my chest#i've seen more people explain it better and break it down more coherently#and i'm so so glad to see so many big brained people ready to communicate on why that take just wasn't it#one piece
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I think what I personally really enjoy about AroAce Rudyard is that I know, in my heart, that he would not ONCE spend a single thought thinking he was broken. This man is fully convinced everyone else is just being unnecessarily weird, which really resonates with me, who also spend like 22 years of his life not even considering the possibility that there's something "wrong" with me and that everyone else is simply a little overdramatic over love and sex.
#i know it's a different experience for everyone but besides like one or two little 'oh god this will affect my adult life' realizations that#i only had once i REALIZED i was aro and even then that was less a 'this is problem with me' and more a 'this is a problem because of other#people's expectations#anyway Rudyard Funn i love you sgdhsgshdh#love looses#rudyard funn#wooden overcoats#i think if like Georgie tried to explain being aro or ace to him he'd dismiss it too#he'd be like that's ridiculous georgie#he might think about it some more later tho#who knows#younger me thought he was simply a better person for not being silly about love and sex like#and that's very Rudyard#(and i have since grown and realized that I'm not a better person I'm just aroace)
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The last couple hundred years have seen society, especially wealthy, western societies, increasingly distancing themselves from the visceral, immediate experience of death. Death is to be hidden and shunned, grief to be pushed aside and made brief. This has been made possibly by improvements in health care, but also by the ever-growing emphasis on the nuclear family and the greater space between people and the sources of their food.
On a smaller scale, as we've had more space to store belongings - as homes have grown and the number of people living within them have decreased - it has been easier for people to acquire and retain belongings over long periods of time. This has led to phenomenon where people buy things they absolutely adore...and then do not use them, as they have the space to store them and they've grown afraid of the damage that will be done to their things if they use them.
Though the second is of course on a smaller scale, the lose of a beloved object still involves a grieving process, and therefore is a less severe analogy for the loss of a loved one.
I posit that the two phenomena are in fact that same phenomenon: that a fear of loss of all kinds, the limiting of space for experiencing loss in our lives, and a dissipation of the skills that enable one to grieve loss in a healthy way, have resulted in our current culture where it is safer to ignore death, and safer to preserve our favorite objects unused, than it is to risk loss.
In this essay, I will...
#unforth rambles#idk my wife's favorite pair of slippers died this morning#and i mentioned i was still mourning my favorite pair of boots that i wore out about a decade ago#and my son was like ??? so I explained and he was like oh that's sad#and I thought about katherine who died earlier this month and how weird grieving for her has been#and how little experience i truly have with grieving#and idk i just ended up here because i'd rather use a thing then grieve when it's gone#then just not use it#but i know a lot of people struggle with that#and it got me thinking that in a way those small grievings help me better know how to process#the bigger grievings from the loss of a loved one#idk maybe this will help someone#more likely it'll get five notes and then disappear into my blog past lmao
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DIANA x ALBERT WESKER / template.
#mine.#pair: ewskers#oc: diana#click for better quality ♡#posting this before i start changing more things lmao but yes i went nuts and made my own psd from scratch... don't look at me#changed ages to birth years cause of how much time passes in the story!! and also gives cheeky fc for you hehe runs away#the checkboxes make me scream like he almost had a clean sweep it's so funny. and he could've had one more i'm not even joking. cause their#first kiss was technically both of them... like idk how to explain this but they were already standing close then diana moved even closer#and was tracing his jaw and such and they were just lingering while holding eye contact but he was the one who actually closed the distance#so i mean... yeah. she was just about to and he beat her to it!! but diana made the move to get them into that position in the first place#is what i mean. i just couldn't give him more it was already too hilarious lmao#can't tell if i like the lil icons but i can't doodle so peace and love on planet earth but yes i'm happy with how this came out hehe#clueless levels are cause they are clowns <3 i have a lot of thoughts about all that but yes they both take hints in some aspects but i#think they both have trouble telling if they are genuine or not or if they are misreading the situation or whether something is romantic or#not (unless ofc it's over the top and ridiculous. ahem. excella. cough. explodes her with my mind) but yeah hit him with the tism so he's#learnt how to read people very well as he's gotten older but i think when it comes to actual just genuine like wanting to get to know#someone and not just someone wanting to get in his pants he seconds guesses it a lot. and diana's all stems from being rattled by her past#experiences oughguhh and i mean her not actually having experienced proper feelings for someone until him lmao but she's got trust issues#also there were so many tropes i could use (thank you to bestie elliot for helping me finds names of things) but i had to do i got you a#drawer specifically because that moment has such a special place in my heart!! like i need to finish the wip where i talk about that cause#it makes me so silly i'm not even joking#anyway omg i hope the mentions work because doing this on the legacy editor after copying the html for beta one because the image just#didn't want to work in the beta image for some reason rip
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do u like solas in a straight way or a gay way??
spoiler alert: everyone I like is in a queer way
double spoilers: if someone likes me, it's also in a queer way
Also, I don't care what game mechanic/character creator binaries allow, Solas absolutely does not care about gender
#make it gay#lethalhoopla answers#when you're outside the gender binary you automatically cast on everyone caught in ur orbit#for ur consideration: preVeil corporeal was more of a suggestion than a rule and elvhen could live forever#there is no way in hell spirit-loving Solas would even cotton that hard onto gender#tbh i don't know how to explain it to you if you've never questioned your gender identity but you get even one step removed from#considering physicality to determine gender and you're in The Soup#The Soup is daunting but also the best come join. it's cool if u walk away still feelin like the gender u were assigned at birth#u just unlocked Better Gender. Cis Plus#meanwhile I haven't left the soup and am in fact A Being and That's It lmao#...... but yeah i like Solas in a queer way and view his potential romance as such.#like. i need to make it clear - in case you're just Young and don't have as much experience to have found things like this-#a lot of queer people aren't spending their time nitpicking identity specifics. gender and romance are messy and thats part of the beauty#attraction is not clear cut and u can try to get specific all you want but there'll always be ppl who 'break your usual rule' or whatever#i figure solas is just. attracted to who he's attracted to and that's it#i figure he literally grew up before it was even perceived as a thing to *care* about - ppl might have types but that was it#....... this has been lethalhoopla gender and sexuality 101 hope u had a good time XD
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i hate how obsessed ive become to this show but god i cannot help it
#the bun talks#you dont understand#its a mixture of it being the perfect balance of kid wholesomness and angst#and the nostaliga of when i was a kid watching athf and had the thought of what if shake actually tried to be a good person#coupled with the fucking amazing voice actors#the lovingly featured representation and doing it in a way to really make you think#my bf and i were talking about how its basically WOY if wander and hater actually had a non-toxic relationship#this is the first kid show ive been obsessed with in years since MLP#and scratch and mollys relationship mean the world to me#i feel for scratch in that when i was younger it was really hard for me to accept that people outside my family cared about me#and i feel for molly cause deep down i wish i was as optimistic and outwardly friendly as her#and i have her kinda child like naivity that theres always a chance for things to get better#ive even had thoughts of kinning her at this point and maybe i want to? i dont know#the new ep related to me so fucking much i know its an experience that a lot of mixed race kids have but. it really really spoke to me#i really relate to her in ways that i cant fully explain. maybe i do kin her. i kinda feel like i already am#and finally like#im. so fucking in love with scratch. SO fucking in love#i live and die hard for characters like him. so upset at the world but finally gets the love he needs.#hes so fucking cute too and snyder does such a good job with him. hes very close to my heart already.#definitely fits the category of f/os that are short. vioent. and grumpy. but just really want attention#and that coupled with his lore and mysteries and the potential of what he really is its just.........#god i love him so so so so fucking much#im embarrassed cause i mean its literally just a kid friendly and a lil more likable MS but. im pretty sure thats another factor of it#cause obviously shake was one of the best parts of ATHF and yeah hes funny on his own#but my child brain back then was like. 'man i wonder what would happen if he was nicer'#and now i have my answer. in the form of him being a cute blue blob that befriends a girl who helps him open up#and its so nice that the show doesnt rely on secondhand embarrassment or making certain characters feel miserable for a gag#its#its just. such a fucking good show#and if it gets cancelled im genuinely gonna have a breakdown
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i think i'm the perfect family gathering babysitter bc i LOVE hearing people just go off about whatever topic and children LOVE doing that
#i saw my 6 year old cousin today for the first time in like 4 years#so this is the first time shes seen me and has a brain that can remember people. and im already probably her favourite cousin#she had SO much to say and she kept explaining and showing me so many things and we were having the time of our lives#she kept following me around and my dad had to move seats bc she wanted to sit next to me when we had cake :')#also im not opposed to the idea of having children one day (its just most probably not possible for me bc id rather die than get pregnant#and im not going to support adoption industry)#but every time i babysit any of my young relatives im like 'hm. do i want kids'#but anyways no one is entitled to having kids so. i am more than happy to just babysit and be the fun older cousin#aaagh im in such a good mood :')#leevi talks#i was at a cousin's graduation party and i cannot believe i was allowed to be there like. as myself#i wore a suit and got called by my real name and saw my great grandma and everything#there was a lot of family drama about me being trans but its all bc of my mom and im not going to get into it but its just.#all these years i never thought i could experience this#i thought literally no one but my dad would support me#but turns out that literally everyone but my mom and her dad love me#agh ok now im actually crying from feeling so loved#happy pride it gets better
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ur post abt the roommate. wow the audacity of white ppl never fails to amaze me. they rlly only perceive the world through their lens and think if someone hasn’t established themselves in their community they’re a nobody. u had to find out abt kanye west due to a white woman prevalent in ur community? what does that say abt u more than anything? it’s so funny how they rlly think poc success relies on whether they’re relevant enough to white ppl. it makes me understand now why a lot of them will be obsessed with and hype up artists like tyler the creator, since 90% of his audience are white. i experienced this first hand at one of his concerts earlier this year.
It def changes the narrative a lot, but I'm also white and I was really shocked, too. I knew it was possible, but I never really thought someone would be so blatant (and intentional, too) in their cultural deafness and blindness about a topic that's not only easy to understand but also... important?
Like... idek know what to say. The fact that there are (white) people out there who have never had to challenge their worldview, even with different styles of art and music... to the point where distinct history, at the very least, isn't even remotely important? Or considered at all?
Not only does it touch upon what you say about it reflecting poorly on them (which, BIG FACTS) but also... you wonder how that's something to even defend or take pride in. It's pure stupidity... and overall just hard to watch, someone having the nerve to so wrongly but confidently have opinions about a topic they never even bothered to learn about.
And exactly as you say about TTC, too. We were just talking in one of my education classes, about how culture can be alienated at the exact same time society starts to accept it. Like, who is truly benefitting from making something mainstream? Not that this is inherently/automatically bad, per se, but when art, music, food, etc, becomes popular at the expense of the people who made it and who it was made FOR... what's really going on? Definitely nothing mutually beneficial, that's for sure... and ESPECIALLY not if this version is the only thing shared, valued, and understood of the culture.
Like Kanye West at the VMAs vs. the impact of his entire discography, for example.
(though it's funny, I said to my roommate, "haven't you heard about stuff like this in passing?" and she deadass said "no."
What. The. Fuck.)
But yeah. People will really value one famous white lady who makes nothing but mediocre love songs about her own life over popular and meaningful expressions of black experience... and then say they aren't racist.
It is depressing. Lol. But thank you for this! I agree + appreciate the insight SO much.
#some ppl don't realize im white so i just had to put that out there in case if changes how comfortable u are with me#but i agree with everything ur saying#and i'd love to be like. oh its not that white relevance determines poc popular but that white ppl dont realize theres anything else...#but idek if i believe that#my roommate seemed pretty confident in her answers#i really had to explain to a full on adult that all music is valuable because it offers different things to different people.#and even i was stunned like... i feel like people and parents always says try to understand that everyone has had a different experience#growing up#and it's often clear now that im an adult bc. obvs we have different backgrounds#so for her to just. throw away the significance of rap. and even just. refuse to acknowledge how it sits in society#i was shocked#that she could so easily disregard something so important#and the fight was huge too#not screaming but arguing abt a lot of stuff#and her telling me taylor swift was a better song writer than kanye bc xyz#how can anyone say that??????????? even if u like her... u just cant act like that or like his music isn't smart and important and iconic#esp since like...#ugh you already know im sure. i just need to walk it off LOL#or move out lol#after i left she started the fight again and i had to walk away all over and now she's probably even more mad#but no im not gonna say taylor swift is good even if i haven't listened to a full album#and that doesn't mean i know nothing about the subject#oh well#good night to u anon ily#sorry if this was a stupid response#caitie answers#popcul
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wanting to be happy about george’s pole/first potential win while simultaneously knowing exactly the kind of *bs that will come with it if he does win tomorrow
*and by bs i mean the very specific brand of racialized bs against lewis bc if george gets a win this season before lewis (which he’s entitled to ofc) and i have to read more comments about george dominating lewis again i’m going to throw myself off a cliff
#tw racism#vibes for this weekend are all over the place i cant explain it#i want george to do well i want him to be successful i dont ever wish bad on him ever#but if george wins tomorrow im turning my phone off i cant do it lol#love george its nothing against him bc hes just doing his job but like its already started lol#and we already went through it at the beginning of the szn and im too tired to go through it again#and like i think the conspiracy theories that merc are intentionally sabotaging lewis are dumb honestly like i disagree respectfully#but at the same time it feels like the celebrations of george's success usually end up coming at the expense of lewis???#lewis who's beared the brunt of the set ups and experiments#while everyone salivates over image of george coming out above lewis#to a point where its much more insidious than the other way around#bc when george does well/better than lewis its not just regular hate and slander and annoying stuff its#'lewis is psychologically inferior' and 'lewis can't handle competition' and 'lewis is getting dominated by his white teammate'#the implications of him getting a win before lewis and how people will use that against lewis in a kind of violent way is scary#and i know that so many people are waiting for george to beat lewis and get a win this szn before him#so i dont know if im comfortable with george getting a win tomorrow#unfortunately#im rooting for lewis first always#i promise this isnt george slander i love him pls#just#this sport as an institution is really shitty#idk the vibes in ef won are really rancid rn#my fucking god this was a really long way to say maybe im a hater and i just want to see lewis win#hungary22
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i NEEED to be more annoying about being mixed race in public i keep forgetting how dire it is. sometimes i point out stuff in like visual culture classes about like a magazine cover with a biracial model or something and it blows peoples MINDS because the whole class forgot mixed people were real
#sometimes im like nooooo i shouldnt be too loud about it people find it annoyinggggg sometimes#but then i remember. if i dont. my white peers. i love them i do they're ready to learn and they do a lot of thinking#once you point stuff out. but by god you need to point this stuff out first LOL classmates put a lot of care and thought into all kinds of#issues but HOO baby. race is a BIG blind spot for a lot of em hfkjdjdkfh#i just get surprised is all. i didnt realize how little the average non-mixed-race person thinks about this stuff#i like to call myself whiteboy. because i think thats funny. its my internal monologue. but also i am not actually whiteboy#and i forget the real whiteboys (gender neutral?) dont know much about mixed issues hjskasjfkd#oh speaking of i guess as a quick primer: i should probably mention. i tend to call myself mixed race#just the terminology i grew up with. but in most professional and academic settings i'll use biracial or multiracial where applicable#or when referring to people who are not myself or someone i know prefers the term mixed#i dont know why i like the term mixed. maybe its just easier to say and explain LOL but yeah#not everyone likes the term mixed race so its usually better to call someone biracial or multiracial if you dont know#multiracial identities are vast and can be vastly different. one persons experience is much different from anothers#my experience is different from my older brothers and we have the same parents and look pretty alike#and our experiences are different from like. my biracial cousin who grew up in the US#and all of us have different experiences than the only other multiracial classmate ive had in years#really the best thing is to read stuff written by multiracial people. books articles blogs. watch video content#theres a lot to learn constantly even if youre multiracial yourself! lots of people on this earth. but it can be fun!#interesting and fun to connect with others by listening to their stories and experiences!
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